The Gazeebo

A Poet's Place

The Gazeebo: Stuck with Raw Emotion

Hey ya’ll!

Haven’t updated in a while and in order to attempt to change that for the future, I’m going to add more posts like this one where I’m just monologuing, with no poems.

Anyway, lately I’ve been just stuck with no creative ideas like I usually have for my poems. Instead, I’ve been writing pieces that are just pure, raw emotion without any true poetic qualities. So, basically I’m hoping that with the changing of the seasons, ideas will start flowing again. Much the same way my rose bush is beginning to grow again 🙂

The piece I’ve been focusing the most of my time on isn’t even something I’d post on here if it did have some true poetic qualities (it would be considered a rant poem by the way); the subject is much too personal and destructive if the person that I’m writing about saw it. So, instead I’m going to show it to a few select people and allow my family to do the same.

Otherwise, life is going pretty good. I’ve been taking an acting class and my confidence has risen substantially, though I’m noticing myself fall into the same rut as we’ve been doing improv. I’m well aware that it’s due to the new things we’re doing and me feeling nervous trying to figure it out while in a scene in front of people, and I know I’ll eventually get used to it in some way – it’s just gonna take me some time. Otherwise, in my accounting class, I’ve kind of conquered the basic premises of what we’re doing and am catching on extremely quick, and in my piano class I’m just learning more and more every week so I’m happy 🙂

Which in relation to being happy, I’ve been on the upswing of the depression roller coaster and I’m hoping I stay here 🙂 It’s been longer for me being happier than usual, but I ain’t complaining; just hoping that I don’t relapse and start going down again – it’s no fun!

As far as other life stuff goes, work is going alright though I genuinely wish I was getting paid more due to financial stuff for the sort of near future – I’ll expand on that at a later date as it nears.

Anyways, I think that’s all about me, but here are a few words of wisdom:

For you writers out there, find something to inspire you and write about it – if it doesn’t come out that great the first time, then at least you have a draft to work on and creative juices flowing to hopefully write more 🙂 For the rest of you, still find something that inspires you and aim for it as you go through your every day – just knowing that there’s that something waiting for you will allow you to get through the day and accomplish everything you set out to 🙂

That is all and have a good one!

J.McD.L

March 22, 2013 Posted by | Your Lungren Originals | , , , , | Leave a comment

The Gazeebo: Roses are Like Grandchildren

Except for the fact that, for the most part, the gardener expects that he’ll outlive the rose.  Of course, there are those sad and tragic moments where a gardener might die early in their life or the moments where the gardener has lived to a beautiful old age and dies peacefully.  But regardless, that rose is cared for and nurtured by both the bush that it came from and the gardener, who was the one to find its initial self just as a wee little bud.  Through the gardener’s care, that little bud turned into one amazing bloom, colorful and beautiful as ever.  The gardener knows that this rose needs to break from its parent bush to allow new ones to be born, and so it is put into a vase with that cool refreshing water to live out the rest of its life.  But, even though it did live a beautiful life, it’s always a sad day when a rose dies.  I mean, those last few days are it just losing all of its petals; it starts one by one, but soon two by two till the day you go to touch it and you unintentionally pull the last one from it.

And that’s the end of that.

Man, it was one sleepy Sunday.  We went shopping today though; I got some frames for a couple of drawings I did in an art class back in high school, as well as some new clothing for tomorrow’s follow-up interview.  I so hope that I get this job; if /once I do, I’ll be able to have more of a chance to get a car and then be able to visit some people I really want to see! 🙂

Now onto the poem; this one was written while visiting my property.  It was another self-portrait I had done that blew away and got caught under a tire, getting tire tracks on it.  I thought of a little bit of symbolism due to some of my past of being made fun of.  So, here it is; just know that I’m completely fine now 🙂

Tire Tracks on Route 23

Started as a creation by the hands of man,

a smile gleamed as sunlight shown on

eyes, a shadow darkening the forehead, ver little

hair the man, its creator stroking

what was there.  Destiny, a plan for it to be born from

nothing.  Loved all the same, as it was in that

little room.  Years passed I, the creator watched as

I lived through its eyes.  People say that sticks and

stones are the only things that hurt, it’s a lie

for those words that we say bounce off the rubber

and land elsewhere like glue, cut the deepest.  You

can see scars and bruises but you’ll never

experience the tears that run down red cheeks as

it tries to close its eyes and pull the covers over its

face as the moon sits high.  You’ll never find its hiding

place on the playground as it draws smiling faces in the

sand, nor will you find the branch it sharpened but

never used.  No — you’ll see a smiling face at its

birthday parties as all its friends eat cake.  It’ll

look back on the photos at the faces, bored and wanting

to be elsewhere.  You’ll see anxious children wanting

to continue to play, not to take pictures.  But that won’t

matter for years later it’ll be free, it’ll leave

you and then come back home.  It’s something new,

those scars making it stronger, more beautiful

than ever, tears will fall no more.

But, I was talking about a different creation —

a depiction of it.  This started the

same by my hands but this had

a different look before the wind gods decided this

wasn’t finished.  Stained by grease, graphite

smeared, this is tire tracks on route 23.

© Jesse McDowell Lungren


Tire Tracks on Route 23

June 12, 2011 Posted by | Your Lungren Originals | , , , | Leave a comment

The Gazeebo: 3 for 2 on 7

Hey again!

Well to start, I guess I’ll just say that I think I did pretty decently at my interview today at Borders.  I was kind of nervous a little driving there though I will have to say that it was probably a little due to the fact that I was driving the route there after only looking at a Google Map.  But, all in all, it went well – got there early, answered the questions to the best of my ability, kept eye contact.. you know – all the good things you should do for an interview.

On another subject, does anyone know a good way of getting rid of little bugs that like to eat leaves and sit on the buds of a rose bush?  Lately, I’ve found a lot of little green bugs on the buds and a few little black gnat-like bugs chewing up my leaves and such.  I’ve tried spraying my bush with soapy water (a trick that my mom told me), but it doesn’t seem to be helping too much.

Now on to the poem – this one I wrote while in my class at the University about a picture of my dad playing horseshoes while we were visiting some of my mom’s side of the family.

Horseshoes

My father – he’s caught in mid-motion.

He’s in the midst of swinging –

The extension of his arm caused by

a mere reflex of pulling it back,

Ready to release.

It’s his first shoe of his turn,

the other still in his left hand.

I can see the tension of his arms,

As his eyes try and focus on the target,

About to fire, to let

that metal U shoot out of his hand.

It was often the game of men,

the test of strength and aim –

I had been a boy just beginning

in the trial of my family;

My father, uncles, and grandfather

were the judge and jury.

But, it was escape from reality –

Just listening to the ring

of the shoes on the stake,

As if instead it were chimes

on a windy day.

June 7, 2011 Posted by | Your Lungren Originals | , , , , | 2 Comments

   

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