creative writing, God, Life Experience's, Thinkr8

The Glory Of A New Day

A gentle breeze blows through the very top of the Palm tree. It is the first movement of nature that I hear. I sense a “Good morning” from the gentle wind of the Holy Spirit greeting me in this place of reflection. In the distance … for the entire story click
The Glory of a New Day – Welcome To My World!

You won’t regret it 🙂


Mystery? Nothing's Mysterious!
creative writing, Daddy, Poetry, Thinkr8

Mystery? Nothing’s Mysterious!

Can it be there are mysteries?
Yet nothing’s mysterious to me.
How do I know this history, not having lived it?
Perhaps we’ll see.

Psychic am I?
Daydream do I?
Clairvoyance be my curse?
Plain common sense?

Or do nightmares awaken to nurse a compelling thought in vicissitudes of man?

Source: Thinkr1

A Father's Ideologies
Author, creative writing, Father, Thinkr8

A Father’s Ideologies


Children today have lousy penmanship. They can print like hell, though.
We may become a nation of printers. {YES!!!} Someday,
some smart guy is going to say, “let’s teach penmanship in school.”
He will be famous as the first man to be drowned in a gigantic ink­well.

Then along will come his successor, a man with 4 college degrees but can’t write.
We are progressing at the rate of one ink-well every generation.


My life has been, since high school days, a series of ups and downs.
Often, I have wished for a life which would carry along at a steady relaxed pace;
and a minimum of anxiety and insecurity. But, I realize that,
if one is going to become an individualist he must always share anxiety and insecurity.

The reward is greater (as far as I am concerned)
in hitting at least one high spot in my life than working at drudgery year after year.

This is, I suppose, a. desire “to be” than a “never be”,
as far as accomplishments are concerned.

The big problem here is, that “to be” one must be a constant companion of
drudgery before he becomes, “to be.”

Then he must become a cauldron of anxiety and insecurity to hold status quo.

From Thinkr1: My Father – 1970 something.

Three Phases Of Life
creative writing, Life, Thinkr8

Three Phases Of Life

The City:

Cavern- like walls on sidewalks meet. As I tread my way on city streets-And I feel the rhythm of life complete; On my way to the delicatessen.
The streets are bright with myriad lights: And, my city is Thanksgiv­ing turkey. With cavern-like walls, where sidewalks meet, And people are its dressin’,

No Address:

My life is easy, as I flow freely; From place to place in steady diet. Of rolling along like a mossless stone, And tho’ life is like a helpless mish-mash through fevered cobbled cities and cool country quiet, I never regret the loss of the moss- ‘Ceptin along about Christmas.


I like the life in a house by the road; Where dim lights are and firesides glow. Like music from the strings of guitars.

For should I choose to pick my way thru humanities flow, I can always return to my house by the road; On the road that leads to town.

From Thinkr1: My Father