New Poem: "Three 3's this Morning"

Three 3's this Morning...

Three, what is special about you?

Especially on this early morn
For 3 was the only number
on the face of my clock
When I gave into the band of three.

Three cats, one old, and two young
Relentless, until their goal is reached.
The oldest with his head next to me
Starts his motor, as to say its time,
While Mr. Peanut begins to trill and talk to me.

But the real artist at waking me,
My special little buddy, you see.
Trapper wakes me, using his own special way,
With a full body massage as he walks, and kneads
Up and down  the entire length of me.

I may not be a mathematical whiz
But I do remember that when
The number three divides then number one,
The answer produced is an eternal one.
A decimal point, followed by three's reaching for the sun.

Like the endless 3's, and their quest for the sun.
My three cats don't stop until they have won.
Won what you say?, Why to get their human's
Butt out of bed, For they think it is high time they got fed.
Not food for there is plenty. No...they want a treat from me.



copyright January 30, 2016
Richard Nurse
All rights Reserved

Time to... Series - Essay # 2 - By: Richard Nurse

Time to …

A series of essays on letting your creative side take control’

Essay no. 2- Time to be Proud

The decision to write and published under my own name, was a major step for me. I would no longer be hiding behind a pen-name, but would be now be taking full and complete credit for my work, be it positive or negative.  Along with writing under my own name, I also made the decision to reach out to a different market and in a new genre for me. I did not know what the genre would be, for like so much of what I write, it simply flows out of me. 

The story that escaped from where ever it had been hiding in my sub-conscious became my first International Crime Drama “Murder in St. Luietz” (Guns – Stilettos & Money).  A story that takes place on a fictional tropical island, and not only involves the islands police force, but agents from the United States, and wet work specialist from the Russian mafia, all because a US Senator changed his vote on an appropriations bill, suddenly bringing an end to Gretchen’s grand plan. I decided to Market it exclusively through Amazon, along with a paperback edition through CreatSpace.  I will be the first to admit, that I am still a starving author, but I am proud of its solid reviews, and 4.25 rating. 

While “Murder in St. Luietz” was going through its editing process, I decided to head off in a different direction.  I had a large number of works of poetry, some of which had been published on blogs and others that had never been published.  I decided to break the book into four different sections, and include both poetry and prose. Many of the poems were inspired, by my experiences with dealing with the sudden addition of my mother-in-law, as a member of our household.  As I put the book together, I made the decision that nothing was going to be excluded from the book.  The title for the book is essentially a statement of its contents.  “Words from the Heart” A Collection of Poetry and Prose became the title before the poem “Words from the Heart” was written. The assembly of the parts of the book inspired the title poem.  Published on June 24^th of this year, both through CreatSpace as a paperback, and Amazon in digital formats, I am quite proud of the book and that fact that all of its ratings have been five stars.

A third book also managed to find its way out of heart and mind.  Inspired by a long series of tones that came out of my police scanner one night, as the 911 Center, took total control of the communications channels to put out a system wide broadcast.  This one happened to be to officially announce the retirement of a captain, from the Sheriff’s Department, but the idea formed, and I began to write about a similar series of tones from a 911 Center in a fictitious city. My newest book, “Out of the Chaos” which will be released digitally September 15^th,  was born that night, and simply flowed out of me.

As usual, when I write, I did so without knowing what was going to happen next until is showed up on screen of my laptop.  Somewhere along the way, the book evolved from a police drama, to a romantic police drama, as the principals began to realize that a special connection had formed between them.  Once again I have had the book published as a paperback through CreatSpace, while with this book; I am not limiting it to Amazon. Instead it will be released through Amazon, Smashwords, and Google Play at the same time.

As I said in the beginning of this rambling, that it was a year without plan, and a year with both intellectual and physical creative accomplishments. There is one physical accomplishment which I accomplished that I am extremely proud of.  For a number of years we have had a covered porch behind our garage that we love to spend time on.  However, over the last couple of years, the number of mosquitoes in our area has slowly made our porch unusable, first in the evenings and then with the dampness from our heave snowfall during the winter, and a wet spring, it became unusable with having a fan going at high speed.  After having a new floor poured in the late spring, it bothered me greatly not to be able to use the porch, because of the bugs.

 

In mid June, once again forced off of the porch in the early afternoon, I went up to my office and began to draw up different concepts to screen in the porch.  Over the next week, I measured and created drawings and a list of materials required.  I told my wife of my plan, and then order the material necessary to construct the frame of the porch.  Phase one essentially of the project, that I managed to complete, prior to our departure to Chicago, for our trip with our granddaughter.  Upon our return from Chicago, I began Phase two, which including finishing the lower inner and outer walls, and hanging the door.  Phase three, consisted of constructing 14 custom built frames, and then making each into a tight screen, and fitting it into its assigned space.  While I did the construction and built all of the screens, my dear wife painted and caulked, and then painted some more.  The project was completed by the end of July and we have been able to sit and enjoy our now bug free porch. Our feral cat pride, also enjoys the porch, and quickly adapted to their cat doors, and have, to this date, not bothered climb the screens.  When I finished the porch, I knew that I had done a good job, as I had kept hearing Mike Holmes voice telling me to “make it right”, while I worked on it.  However, when the roofing contractor, whom I had hired to replace our roof and gutters, which had been damaged during the long cold winter, came up and congratulated me on a great job, and asked I wanted to build another one at his house, I knew that I had truly done a job to be proud of.

I don’t know what the rest of the year might bring, for like the beginning of the year, I have no true agenda, with the exception of being a dealer in a two day glass show as part of our antique business, S & D Antiques.  While my wife has a full agenda, as she is booked through most of September, October, November and December, by various institutions and agencies, to present her lectures and talks on Art and Architectural History, to senior citizens, who have not lost the desire to learn. 

I am definitely proud of what I have accomplished this year. For a year that began with no agenda or plan, I can now hold three books in my hand, which were all begun and published this year. And what at times, is the best of all; we can now sit on our porch, and actually read a book or write one, without slapping mosquitoes constantly.  I’ve been doing my best not to write this is verse, but I am slowly loosing that battle:

That’s the Plan

Since, I just realized that,

I just might actually have a plan, 

That might produce something quite grand.

My plan is so simple, all should understand

To let my left side take control,

And go where ever it wants to go.

I’ll let the characters take the lead,

Become their Marionette dangling over the keys

Let them take control, move the wires and string

Making my fingers dance over the keys.

I’ll let each character, write what they please

And what part that they play.

Then I’ll take their story and read it through

And decide just what to do.

Tweak a little here, and add a bit here

Talk with the characters, when I need too

Letting some add to the story

While others just might have to go.

So that is my plan, just plant a seed

Then sit back, and see what will grow.

Now if the truth it to be told,

I’m not being bold, for it’s how I love to write.

So I am willing to wager, more than just a bit;

That my next story will flow, as the characters tell what to I write.

Copyright September 17, 2015

Richard D. Nurse

A New Poem: - "Impressions, Inspired by the Impressionist"

Featuring a New Poem

By: Richard Nurse

The Antique Poet

Impressions, Inspired by the Impressionist

A day filled with Renoir, Degas, and Monet.

A day filled with colors, of every shade and hue.

Sometimes vibrant, other times sublime, and subdued.

Dependent on which painting, your eye is drawn to.

There is one exception, for on a wall there are three

Where not just the colors, shades and hues,

Emanating, from these amazing three, Dances, by Renoir,

Together again, as they once had been before, now on the wall before me.

My senses are alive, not just that of the mere sight.

For as my mind lingers over, all three, and then each,

Sounds begin to emanate, from each before me

Joined by the fragrances my mind expected there to be.

To the right, two dancers, in a club in the city.

Smoke lingers thick in the air, muddled with the fragrance of wine and beer

One couple dances, while other couples cuddle or talk.

Her cheeks flush with color, painted there by food, fun and drink.

To the left, again two dancers, alive in the night.

Rough wooden tables, tree limbs and leaves for a roof,

Resplendent with bottles, some up, but most down,

Music from a fiddle, that even boisterous laughter can’t drown.

Ah, but in the center, such elegance and grace.

No cloud of smoke, just perfectly clear, richly scented air.

No distortion of the beauty, shimmering in silver; silk, satin and lace

With an aura and fragrance, that once, only royalty bore.

The “Ah!” moment for me, on a day brimming with so many.

Thank you Mr. Barnes for your wonderful collection,

And your vision to blend; form, shape and function.

Surely, the perfect way, to start, an art museum day.

Followed by a hand in hand stroll, down a tree canopied way,

Then up ‘Rocky’s’ steps, not running, but walking all the way.

To the Impressionist Show, thank you, Paul Durand-Ruel

For you never wavering love, of this oft rejected, new crazy art,

Now so loved by the world, many, which personally touch my heart.

To be able to sit and commune, not even noticing the others in the crowd.

In another hall, waiting for my eyes to behold; ‘Lautrec, Rousseau, Surratt, and more.

Yet the three dance works, by Renoir, would grip my heart this day.

©August 28, 2015

Richard D. Nurse

The Antique Poet

Scent - A poem inspired by a kittens reaction

Scent

Oh scent from where did you come?

Fear and terror fill me now,

Memories of hiding and climbing over stuff

My eyes still closed I couldn’t even see.

My cries of hunger and pain go unanswered,

No licks, no mews, not teat to suckle,

No siblings with which even to snuggle.

Cries of loneliness linger unanswered.

Oh wait what do I smell, it is coming so near.

I lie and tremble, knowing not what to do

Hunger finally over comes my fear, I cry out.

And feel a soft loving tongue, not unlike my mothers.

Washes, licks, mews, but her teat are all dry

I stumble toward the other scent, this one heavy and strong.

my legs is all bent, which makes it hard to walk.

This other scent, senses I have something wrong.

One sniff, and I cower before him,

His fur is coarse and stiff, not like my mommy.

Hers was soft and fluffy, like the one who licked me,

Not like this one who shuns me, and swats me away from him.

She is carrying me now, hang limp, don’t cry,

She is nice this one, not like him who trots at her side.

She lays me on stone, oh wait I smell food,

Not from her, but from a pile in a bowl.

She nudges me up to the bowl, I hear him growl,

Does she mean to give me his share, now I’m truly scared,

She growls back at him, and keeps nudging me to eat.

He gives way to her, know he needs her to eat.

I see her eat some, and give it a try,

It smells and taste good, but hurts my little teeth,

I’m not ready for dry. I know she is trying to help me,

But I’m thirsty, oh to be able to suckle a teat.

Suddenly, a new scent arrives on the wind,

Knowing that I can’t run, she carries me away.

I never saw what it was, and on her I don’t sense fear,

She pauses by a pond, pausing to show me how to drink.

Then carries me back to the woods,

And lets me lie by her side.

She is warm and soft, and licks the film from my eyes,

I begin to see what I smell, and let out a cry.

He is big and rough, with a stripped tawny hide,

He looks at me like he wants me to die.

He knows I’m not able to live in the wild,

Yet the older mommy, likes me right at her side.

During the night, mommy leaves to go hunt,

And as soon as she gone, he puts his mouth over me

I think I’m going to die, but instead he carries me away

Back to the food bowl, where he drops me to lay.

He leaves my side and goes up high, It’s either eat or die.

Before the sun comes up he noses me to see if I’m alive,

And then is gone, without even a lick good bye.

I know that when the food is gone I will die.

But I didn’t die, I’m alive and here with my family today

That two legged scent rescued me, fed and bathed me,

And are my Mommy and Daddy today. Then why do

I smell that scent, on him and my two best friends.

I can’t help myself as my fear and terror fill my brain,

I flatten my ears, and rare back to fight,

for I Know he is here to finish,

 what he didn’t do that night.

But all I see are friends around me,

Mommy, Daddy, Grandma, Tom, Pip, Dusty and Sweet Pea,

All looking very concerned about me.

Tom and Pip come to check on me, but they were by the smell

Wait the smell is gone, Daddy is back, his hand is clean,

My hackles come down,  no longer looking for something to fight.

I check all the others, yes the smell is gone, my home is clean,

I hope my sleeps not filled with bad dreams tonight.

Because Munchkin would much rather play than fight.

© January 12, 2014

All Rights Reserved

Richard D. Nurse

RDN

The Circle of Life

A Title I believe has been used a few times before

“The Circle of Life”

Isn’t amazing how the circle

 Of life always seems to go on.

For each one lost;

Another one is found.

Or in the case of Street Fighter,

 Five new ones into view do bound.

For on that sad day

We had to put him down,

Mommy, his companion,

And friend to the end,

Brought out their babies

For their first view of the world around

 Five little balls of fur, all fuzzy and round;

 And pointy little tails; just sort of stumbling around. 

She fed them in the open for us to view,

Her gift, a thank you, and show of trust

For years of caring and loving by us

For her, her children, and her mate by us

What a sight to see, for in the five will be:

One mostly gray, another one tawny,

 And again a brown tiger with cute white paws,

However, the two that I think, Are the cutest of all,

Are 2, four-legged cotton balls

With black spots, randomly scattered about

Just a coincidence

I think not my friend

She knew how bad he was hurt

For she stayed by his side.

She showed us their babies;

For us remaining by their side

Who will take over the pride?

At present, I do not know.

I have to put my faith in mommy

To watch over the pride

For unlike Street Fighter

I cannot always be at her side.

By:  Richard Nurse

©August 22, 2014

Introduction

Introduction:

I guess you can still live the dream life in America.  Althought maybe not as easily as the great generation did.  Being a early Boomer myself I have found the wonders of being retired.

I have two new careers to keep me occupied, and my mind vital and intact. Or at least I think it is.  I actually retired later than I had planned oh so many moons ago, but earlier that I actually figured as I matured.  I reached the dah point, as I call it, in 2010, when my wages were to be frozen for at least two years, and if I took my SSI early, and my State retirement at that point I was working for free.  Thus why work is a world of stress, for no monetary benefit, so I gave my heart and mind a present and retired.

The best career decision I have ever made.  My life, health, and all around well being improved, and I was able to dive into the antique business I had begun ten years earlier, as my retirement career of choice, and enjoy the fun.  Along the way, my second retirement dream began to come to the surface, as I began to write once again, as I had off an on for years, only now I had the time to let the words just flow.

Five novels, 14 short stories and two books of poetry, published under a pen name, instead of by me.  Modest royalities do flow, and it is a pleasure to see someone purchase the stories written by the other me.

Now it is time for me to slip into the open. I have two poetry books on Amazon right now, and one is actually free for the next five days.  As you might be able to tell I often write in verse, and poems about my cats seem to often come first.

You will learn about them, if to this blog you subscribe, for they fill my life with joy and my mind with inspiration.  I hope you will enjoy my blog as it grows, and through here I will tell you as new stories grow.

Richard D. Nurse
RDN