Kim's Creative Writing Corner.
A creative writing smorgasbord.
The taste of green
is rainwater and dirt,
like that of a cucumber
fresh from the garden.
The taste of green
is crisp and refreshing,
like a salad in
the dog days of summer.
The taste of green
is sweet droplets of
kiwi juice running down
one’s chin.
The taste of green
is the bitter aftertaste
of lime, clinging to the
taste-buds.
The taste of green
is a deep inhale
after the grass
has just been cut.
Kim Sealock
7-21-19
How can I be an outcast
in a group of people, where
we all have something in common?
Though I managed it.
Standing in the corner,
taking it all in.
The young and the old,
the ones that want to be there,
and the ones that would rather be reading a book in their den.
The ones that look the part
and the ones who make you wonder why?
I stand and observe,
wondering why the staff
are the only ones talking to me?
The lights lower, and I join the group to see the show.
I enjoy the show lonely in the middle row.
Swaying and singing along.
Walking back I wonder,
do I illicit a don’t talk to me vibe?
Do I love
being alone that much,
that other people can sense it?
Drinking in the hotel bar,
the place where lonely people are supposed to meet.
I make eye contact,
people instantly
advert their gaze.
I smile a shy smile,
relishing in, the fact
that I like to be alone.
Kim Sealock
7-6-19
Nostalgia burns the eyes
as it plucks one’s heartstrings
to a familiar tune of a forgotten melody,
that gets stuck in our heads,
and we hum along
though we don’t know the words.
At first, one’s stomach sinks with the news
that things are changing,
and the realization that leaving home
is permanent this time.
We forget the tight embrace community has
until it comes together,
to wish us good luck on impending journeys,
and to help us up as life knocks us down.
We forget our impact
until someone presents us with a life touched
by our kindness and a smile.
We forget that people care
until we see it,
gifts of farewell for remembrance,
the cracking voices,
the miss you’s, the thank you’s,
the welling of tears in the corners of eyes.
Nostalgia hurts
even when it’s feeling better
because we can never relive the past,
only remember it
as it gradually fades into nothing but a memory.
Kim Sealock
4-18-19
“Do as I say,
Not as I do!”
It’s the new philosophy of the world.
People publicly shame
while committing the same.
Caught!
“Do as I say,
Not as I do!”
Mistakes make us human,
though we are shunned
by our neighbors, our families, people we considered friends.
Cause we did as they do
And not as they say.
Honesty is the best policy,
though we are taught to lie
between fake smiles.
“Do as I say,
Not as I do!”
Some watch and judge,
though a higher power
tells them not to.
“Do as I say,
Not as I do!”
A parent teaches
the New Generation,
though they fall into the same.
It’s the new philosophy of the world.
“Do as I say,
Not as I do!”
Kim Sealock
1/7/19
I only hear you
when I’m sleeping.
A whisper.
A laugh.
The light of a smile,
between dreaming consciousness.
That is where you exist,
in my heart,
and in an oak box
under a stone
that labels you to rest.
Yet here you are,
calming my ever-critical mind,
chanting me into serenity.
Grasping yet letting go,
whispering farewell.
Kim Sealock
1/4/19
Kim's Creative Writing Corner. 