Rain squeezed in cold form
slides down heights of stone and steel.
Bright rays bend hues true.
(Today's haiku was written by my dad. My dad appears courtesy of Interscope Records.)
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Being a synthesis of one writer's two favorite pastimes: writing and avoiding writing.
If you're good at something, never do it for free.
"Why a writing blog, Steve?"
"It's not a writing blog."
"But you're a writer."
"When a chef pours himself a bowl of cereal, is he cheffing? This isn't for real. It's a place to play. A play blog."
"What kind of writer uses the word 'cheffing'?
"The kind that has a play blog."
"It's not a writing blog."
"But you're a writer."
"When a chef pours himself a bowl of cereal, is he cheffing? This isn't for real. It's a place to play. A play blog."
"What kind of writer uses the word 'cheffing'?
"The kind that has a play blog."
1 comment:
Very good! Now we know where Steve gets his talent. I was hoping for an introspective on turning the big 3-0.
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