Sick of it!

You can check out my website at www.RDLarson.com or you can read my stories FOR FREE after you sign up at www.bookrix.com or you can BUY my book, EVIL ANGEL at Fictionwise.com and at www.Mobipocket.com and at Amazon.com

I am sick of writing political blogs! Not writing any more.

I am not sick of dogs! I want another one! I miss Zippy! But I am not writing doggie splash any more!

I love to write so instead of links to what I've have up I am going to write about writing. Of course I might still let you know when something gets published or epublished. Everyone has a Kindle these days and I think I have at least five books at fictionwise that you can get on your Kindle.

But mostly I am going to write about being a writer and the pain it entails. Not one person admits it -- it is killing to be a writer and I am going to tell the whole truth about it. I love to write; I do. And I will never stop. But I guess I will confess some of the awful truths as I see them. I am going to rant and rave. So don't bother to read it. Oh maybe once in a while you will get some golden words but omg don't hold your breath.

Writing is hard. That is the first commandment of writing. It is damn hard and it is never easy. So before you write and tell me you want to be a writer, think about the hell it will put you through.

Remember the Shining? Remember Nicholson? He wasn't CRAZY -- He was a writer!

You can check out my website at www.RDLarson.com or you can read my stories FOR FREE after you sign up at www.bookrix.com or you can BUY my book, EVIL ANGEL at Fictionwise.com and at www.Mobipocket.com and at Amazon.com

Ok, since I last wrote here I am a year older. And not any wiser, it seems. I am not happy with the health plan as it has finally turned out. I supported for a long time, back to Clinton but the way this one was nit-pic and spun out, it's worthless. The real people who need health care are the poor. Get it? The poor and the poorer. The black, the brown, the white, the yellow and the red. The old poor and the young poor. The poor who work and can't afford health care. The old who are more sick than Medicare will pay for. The people who have only enough to eat and put a roof over their head. Do Americans get that? There are many poor people in this county. Bi-partison stupidity has cause it to fail again. The fools. Obama is a good president but he needs to make stronger waves. When the banks hit us with high interest why couldn't he do something? How about the members of the House and Senate? I'm disgusted. Imagine how Teddy Kennedy would feel? They all let him and his dream down. I'm sick. I may never vote again. This country is about greed and saying "hooray for me; the hell with you." The worst of the worst is the big businesses. Do they even really process food any more? I could rant for hours but I won't because it won't do any good. Thanks for nothing you biggies, you rich folks, you rich companies, you wealthy not paying taxes cretins, you good-for-nothing Republicans and Democrats. For the sake of the country, THINK!

I might get a new puppy but I still miss Zippy who died last January.

Birth of Winter by RD Larson

You can check out my website at www.RDLarson.com or you can read my stories FOR FREE after you sign up at www.bookrix.com or you can BUY my book, EVIL ANGEL at Fictionwise.com and at www.Mobipocket.com and at Amazon.com

The Birth of Winter

By
RD Larson

Never mind that golden leaf, the one that dangles
By a single spider thread.
Care not that the flowers have faded and bent.
Worry not that the birds have left forever.
Feel not the chill of wind from the north.
We are more, my love.

Never mind that the puddles freeze to silver
Below the dark and lofty firs.
Have no grief for the hunted stag on the run.
Wish not for the berries that grew so wild.
Bear not the loss of warm sunlight glinting
With dim and nameless fear.

Don't let the darkness into your waiting soul.
For listen to me,
I have the sight to see the future now for us.
There is more to come, more life to come.
For winter is not the death it seems to be.
Fear not, my dearest love.

The winter fire will warm you with it glow,
While I hold you close.
You will have your warm sweater knit of stories,
You will have your feet covered with words
and sonnets will hang with glory from your ears.
I am with you, my love, always.

When the tops of the trees cry in the hard wind
I will comfort you.
When the branches fall I will shield you safely.
When ice forms I will hold your hand tight
And when the snow falls we will delight.
For it is anew we celebrate.

I am your lover and you are my love, it's true.
Be calm for I am here.
Winter deals its deck when rivers roar and trees fall.
I will hide you in my arms and pester you with talk
of far away travels and sunny days on beaches.
I will coddle you, my sweet.

The dank smell of toadstools and mulch will hover,
In the midst the ferns
Snows will fall and melt and fall again.
The pious will pray and some will die,
But neither you nor I will join the others
We are earth's children.

As all living things huddle and wait for spring
We will sing and dance.
Many others will harken back to bygone days;
While others will slip into the dark to die alone.
Some like us will survive.

For winter is not the end of joy for those who love;
It is the season to celebrate!
Thanking those we love and want, we praise;
Scorning those who limp away and cry too loud,
Throwing caution to the wind we dance to music
made by our love.

And when the days get slowly longer we grin,
At the fears we hid away.
Wildly gay and running free, we drift
Like the last snowflakes, the last cold
Winds of the bitter north and east,
our heart swelling with joy and life
As we love one another.

Winter is the birth of dreams and cozy joys,
It is the blanket we treasure.
And the game we play again and again.
For winter is tamed by love and love
Foils all the fears of death and damned
As hearts swell in songs of happiness.
You are my beloved.