Write
Thoughts on writing from a poet's point of view...
Soft, Strong, Nice Day
2025.05.03
Saturday, May 3, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Prompts and sugar sweet get your read on and have a seat.
Ghos+ Time. O/
Hello, time to go.
On with our show...
...
Good sleep, soft and strong like my words. 😏
Sun's up already. The weather is a perfectly castable picture of a Spring day in New England.
Idyllic, soft and strong like my words. 😏
A nice to be read by you, how'd you do, good for you, entry today.
Nothing profound but respect and friendship. A good Let's go outside and do something, kind of day.
Grab a chair. Stick it in the yard. Place it in the park. Set it down near the lake shore. Sit. Crank up your cellphone's brightness. And read on.
Print would be nice. Not sure about how translating this journal to paper book pages would look, but there are stories on the way that lend themselves perfectly to sit on bookstore shelves.
Sort of.
I'm tweaking the novel around some.
Not the novel I write, The Novel itself.
Expanding the possibilities to meet our screen spoiled imaginations.
I handwrite my entries; I love a paper book, so no worries my page turning lovers, my paperback on the couch cup of tea dreamers.
"What are you doing to The Novel, Ghos+? How are you expanding it?"
-Devoted Inquisitive as Always Reader
It's better answered by experiencing it.
The idea is to keep the intimacy of a cover to cover read in an online experience.
Well, we'll talk more on it when I release it.
Until then, take care, write a practical entry, enjoy your weather whatever it is, and make wonderful your wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
We Are Also Directors
2025.04.21
Monday, April 21, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
Hey. O/
How's the day?
Have it your way?
No?
What you see is what you get, so change how you see what you're seeing into something good for you.
Redefine and rewrite the stories of the nouns in your life to better serve your idea of a good day.
You write the story of your own life.
Don't like part of your days? Edit it. Recast the scene. Reset the stage.
The whole world maybe a stage Shakespeare, but we are not merely players; we are also the directors of our days.
Don't like some of the people in your life?
Recast them!
Don't like where you live or work?
Redesign the stage.
About an hour till sunrise.
Spring cool is back.
A Dog's got to be fed moment looms.
Abe reminded me a couple of times already.
...
There's more to write; there always is.
Writer's block doesn't exist.
What we mean when we say, "I have writer's block," doesn't mean we can't, all of a sudden, not write.
It means we can't, at that moment, write that.
That being your intended piece.
You can always write something.
For instance: "Thought I'd write a few sentences. The 'project' I desire to write is stubborn. Thought I'd make a few sentences to remind myself I can. If I were to write something for the project, I'd go with this or that, perhaps a good place to start is..."
-Writer Now at Work
Adiós, Block. O/
Hungry dog.
Take care, set your stage, act your shoe size not your age, laugh like a kid at least once, and make wonderful your wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
A Noun Does Something
2025.04.19
Saturday, April 19, 2025
Good morning, The Wonder Fell Way.
How's the day? O/
Up, Up, and Away?
Sky high in daydreams, or feet rooted on the Earth, make sure you know your worth.
Live on purpose with purpose.
You got Life; you deserve it.
Enjoy your chance to shine.
Shine.
Inspiration in Ghos+ Nation!
On with the show...
...
Songbirds started.
Windows open warm kind of morning, first of the year.
Old dreams grow new dreams, stronger now wise.
Been-there-done-that living shows signs something worth doing, some new step towards a long forgotten dream, showed up.
Hope's staircase is in front of your seasoned self.
Get climbing dreamer. Spring sprung climb to the next rung.
Slow words morning so far.
Stubborn rhythm... daydreams of practical things where sentiments to share usually live.
Loud tweets and chirps, the birds are psyched for Spring.
Robins, Blue jays, Juncos, a Woodpecker here and there.
Too early for the Hawks and Falcons.
...
How to build a sentence... let's get back to basics.
There's the subject, we have to mention something.
There's the verb, the subject's got to be doing something.
So there's a thing doing something enclosed in a container starting with a Capital Letter and ending with a punctuation mark.
Sometimes there's something remarkable about the subject (noun), something worth mentioning.
Mention it. Call it an adjective.
Sometimes what the noun is doing (verb) is done in an exceptional way.
Make note of it. Call it an adverb.
Punctuation, let's not forget punctuation.
When the noun and verb make a point, or point to an event, we make a point.
We call it a period.
When we're curious about a noun's action, we use a question mark.
When we shout, we exclaim the sentence with an exclamation point.
Those are the basics.
A noun does something. The point of a sentence.
.
^Period.
What's up with the noun doing that?
?
^Question mark.
Wow! Is for Wow!
!
^Exclamation point.
Every word is a sentence if you shout it.
Everyone!
Even the poetry of the sky is a dull white-grey today.
Nice warm Saturday for nouns to do outside things, open windows, clean Winter out of the house.
Take care, grammar beware, and make wonderful your wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
The Song Playing in Your Car
2025.04.18
Friday, April 18, 2025
Good morning, The Wonderfell Way.
Hi. O/
Back again?
Good for you; good for me.
Glad to see we're on the same page. 😏
It's your life, take centerstage. 💃🕺
Away we go,
On with our show...
...
Welcome to The World of Dreams.
Hop on a dragon. Let's go for a ride.
Sunrise magic only happens once a day.
Get airborne. Get a front row seat.
Up in the air.
Away we go,
Up and up it's on with Our Dream Show...
...
"I believe we write about what we have to write about that day."
-Writer I Knew from a Longtime Ago.
I agree; I still agree.
It's rhythm.
Everyday and moment in each day, has a time signature, a melody and harmony to hear, take notice of and transcribe.
Even when the material is intentional: an essay, report, short story, news article, or poem, for example; they all have their own cadence.
That vibe is the sound of the day, the song playing in your car.
The words in a hip-hop hoop-dee go different in a Beethoven sedan.
Subwoofers set to earthquake tell a different story than the sky high treble of a symphony.
How's your music; how's you day?
Find your flow and dance it.
Two-step, tango, clubroom shake; ballroom, breakdance, for goodness sake.
For goodness: Let your goodness shake.
Soft comfortable sunrise.
The sky's queueing up conversations that start, "Hey, nice day today."
Take care, find your rhythm, feel your rhyme, and make wonderful your wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Ask a Ghost to Dance
2025.04.05
Saturday, April 05, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
Words and deeds, what feeds us all…
O/ Welcome back.
Sunshine find you yet?
Still on its way here.
Hope it finds you well.
On with the show...
...
Wow. Sometimes, at times, so much wants to be said.
A head on fire with so many dreams calling for a voice.
You start writing. Pick one dream or none, scribble some lines, remember you love this stuff.
"There’s plenty of other things you could be doing."
- Your Honest Friends
You love the work and the wonder of it, the way words weave witness to wishes and daydreams.
The way a song called a sentence sings in mind as your eyes sew the slants and scribbles of syllables into mindful measures.
A dream can touch a dream; a reader can read.
But only if the letters are set down to share.
Set them down. Share them.
Touch a dreamer’s dream with your storied dreams.
Ask a ghost to dance.
The written word shared is the spirit looking for a dance partner.
Thanks for the dance this morning.
...
The Princess Pata Chronicles continue…
Abe has a patch of the yard committed for digging.
He scratches dirt until he reaches the soft soil, tosses some behind him, then lays down on the comfortable mound.
He made his bed; he lies in it.
Yesterday he softly set The Princess down near the patch, scratched a new hole, tossed the soft soil into a mattress, gently lifted Pata with his teeth and set her on the new bed.
He walked his route around the yard, a security officer’s patrol, returned to his own mounded bed, softened the soil with a few scratch marks, walked to The Princess’ house, swept her off her plush paddled feet, placed her in his bed and laid down with her.
Lovers in the springtime grass watching songbirds sing new nests together in oak trees and pines.
A dog daydreams of love at a slow steady pace.
Abe dreams quiet introspective dreams under oaks and pines to find a definition of love suitable for a dog.
Important work, any act is only as meaningful as the meanings we bring to it.
Abe’s wise; he takes his time.
There’s more to life than speeding it up.
Take care, take a breath, prepare your dreams for Spring, and make a wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
To Convey You
2025.04.03
Thursday, April 04, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
O/ Hello. \O
Woke up laughing.
I do hope you’ve had at least one dream that’s worth waking in laughter to.
“What was it about, Ghos+?”
- Respectable Reader
“Bathroom humor. I’ll keep it to myself.”
- Respectful Ghos+
Hope all’s well with you.
On with our show...
...
Well timed The Sun starts to show, starts the show.
Sunrise is a day’s introduction music.
It’s a prelude, dude.
Went through some old entries on the site yesterday, fixed a few typos, updated some tags, and changed the header font.
Typos do happen, even with my flexible poet-ish grammar.
The posts are a one-shot thing:
Archaic slab ->Type up -> Disagree with the AI Editor’s suggestions -> Pictures -> Final Edit -> Tag -> Post.
All before/during breakfast.
AI for writing is best kept for after the first draft.
I keep the spell-check, grammar-check, and suggestions off.
They don’t help while drafting.
AI helps us frame a sentence, not write one.
Tell a poet how to shape a sentence and you might as well spit in our face.
To leave the checks and suggestions on as you write gets in the way of the rhythm of the piece. You focus on the correct way to say a thing and not the right way to say it.
Editing is always best done after the writing. They are a separate process.
To leave the checks and suggestions on while you write is to have a nagging teacher watch over your shoulder throwing angry wavy Christmas lights to point out your faults as you go.
Not a helpful happening for your best writing to come out.
Send the nag to the corner, say what you have to say not what others have said, then flip the Christmas lights on.
If they help make your point clearer, if they don’t disrupt the flow of the sentence, thank them and move on.
AI is the help, not the endpoint.
A reader is the destination; a reader is a person.
Suit your readers ear and curiosity best, make reading your work a comfortable enjoyable thing for human ears, not an algorithm... an imagination.
The idea is to get you on the page or the screen, and not who you’re supposed to be.
To convey you, not to convey expectations, to exceed them with your honest originality.
Some writing is dull, but that’s just genre.
You’re as much a part of a piece of technical writing as you are a poem.
Your one rule: Be clear; be clearly you.
Expression and not obedience is the aim of every sentence.
Always.
This rule holds true for AI prompts as well.
What you get back is always the reflection of how much human memory that particular application accesses, and has access to, in their server.
The best algorithms return from a limited catalog of record of humanity’s yesterdays.
The more we add to the internet the more AI’s reflection can tell us about our experience.
A good friend’s advice, one that’s known you for a long time, is always preferable to that of a strangers.
They’re more familiar with your experience of life and so help in a way with your best needs in mind.
A good friend is: A server of information about the world customized to serve you best.
Take care, add some flair, be fair, rhyme because it’s a fun way to say what you got to say, and make a wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
A Color by Letter Wonderland
2025.04.02
Wednesday, April 02, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
How’s the day? O/
Spring fun in the sun?
Work to be done?
Call it fun, get it done, and call it won.
Hope you’re well.
On with our show...
...
What about the place in between?
That space of time from a word set down to that word read.
Do you think these words placed in this place are like seeds in The Earth?
Did they sprout yet?
When you read them are they flowers or only stems?
Full bloom or just pressing through the dirt, their whole life to live?
Perhaps the stage of each word set down depends on the reflection you see.
Can you see the whole tree?
Just a sapling?
I’ve got forests for sentences; whole cities burst to life in each paragraph.
Do you read my intention with your attention?
It’s your expression of my impression you ingest as you read.
I wonder how you read me… what do you see?
I paint as clear an image of each moment as I can.
But my words are a color by letter wonderland for your paint, your brushstroke dreams.
We paint our days with the memories of the colors we see.
Red for me is not red for you.
For the whole spectrum this is true.
My words are the expressions of the colors I sense.
So are yours.
Our imaginations live and breathe and feast on rainbows.
Perhaps one day you’ll share your painting of The World with me.
Because your color red will never look exactly like mine makes the meaning and purpose of Art.
We can never measure the value of color, only experience it and share that experience.
You see and hear (music has color, too) your own color show and call it Life.
You ought to share it sometime.
Take care, realize you paint the air with every sound and stare of every word you choose, see your life is your masterpiece awaiting its weave, weave away and make a wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
A Bunch
2025.03.27
Thursday, March 27, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
¡Olé! O/
Up and at ‘em.
You got this.
Nobody is a better you than you.
Do your day proud, quiet, reserved or loud.
Do your best you.
Got out my motivational Ghos+ clichés to brighten your day and lift your spirit.
Hope all’s well. Do your best you.
Sunshine’s calling.
On with our show.
...
At some moment sometime ago, I looked at some book laying on some table and thought, “That’s just a bunch of sentences someone strung together.”
Chances are you’ve not had that thought. It’s a good helpful one.
Good helpful thoughts are a good helpful reason to have me around.
It’s a book: a bunch of sentences.
But, do this:
- Check your text message history as far back as you can.
- Check your online post history back to its origins.
A bunch of sentences.
A book called Your Life.
Watch your grammar.
Really.
Not in a stuffy-stuffy grammar gal kind of way.
No.
Your use of punctuation, even your emojis, say so much about you. 👻O/🌅
Staccato sentences with ‘quick emoji press sends’ added up, show a get-it-done life. Days spent in ‘go-go-go...’ an athlete with a daily planner text records look like that.
The more frequent your walls-of-text the more introspective you are, the more likely to be a reader you are too.
Chances are reading this means you’re the type of person with a good wall-of-text or two (thousand O/).
Hopefully you have a healthy mix of the two. There are staccato checklist tasks to do each day.
Dinner, laundry, etc. Care for you physical body stuff.
But there’s no reason to keep your physical body alive and well if you don’t have wall-of-text worthy meaningful moments.
If you’re a kinesthetically inclined person, this doesn’t mean sit-down and read a book (though it does wonders for your health).
No.
It is always better to dance than to run on a treadmill.
A dance is an athlete’s wall-of-text expression of moments.
...
Sun’s up.
By the window, Abe’s chin on the loveseat cushion… eyes open, fall, fall, slow fall… Awake! Just the wind, not a squirrel. Fall, fall, fall…
Me with dreams of what a life not spent fighting illness might be like.
How many words, deeds, and friendships never made?
What romance was lost?
What’s a world like where every spin doesn’t start with: Get well, then get to live.
Having won a war how to grieve one’s whole life lost to win it?
But the Sun’s up and it is wonderful.
Whoever, whatever, planned it that way; it is beautiful.
Maybe I gained what so many lost or never knew is required for a good life: Appreciation.
Remission, the word makes me laugh.
Like you have another chance to live your dream’s mission for a good life.
Here’s to my chance. O/
Take care, appreciate your time, and make a wonderful day.