I’m a Screenwriter

Image result for old movie camera

I haven’t posted here in almost a month, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing. Rather, I’ve been writing more than ever.

A movie studio has asked me to be a part of its creative team developing original content for television and the big screen, To that end, I’m currently 50 pages deep into a screenplay that will begin production in 2020, the production of a major motion picture.

For now, this blog, generally a poetry blog, will record my adventures in the movie industry.

Needless to say, I am terribly excited!!

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Paradise

I’ve been busy, a good busy, but nonetheless, time has not been my own. Today, I was able to claim a bit just for me.

Image result for sparrow painting images

Paradise

Just a moment
to taste

a morning’s air,
a breath sweetened

by the shadows
a sparrow ferries

across the yard,
above a clutch

of dandelions
still burdened

with bulbs of dew,
and know

the next moment
is yours.

Pipe Smokin’

This piece is inspired by a painting I discovered on Facebook,  a scene representing a slice of JRR Tolkien’s Middle Earth. And yes, I do have a pipe. Perhaps I’ll puff a bit of peace today.

Pipe Smokin’

Tis’ best, my lad, to find a soft splay
of earth where, in a day’s time,
both shade and sun discover time to unfurl.
Perhaps beneath an old tree
that understands the values of sittin’,
of swallowin’ all the silence the air dare offer,
Once settled in a spot, puff up a sweet tobacco,
somethin’ nutty, with a taste of honey and berry,
and set that perfume swirlin’ up that tree
like a garland of white flowers,
so tasty, like cookies bakin, the tree
might stoop down askin’ to filch
a puff or two – on your pipe and peace.

Breakfast

I’m hungry.  This is simply a piece that describes what I’d like to eat right now. Can one write a poem simply about food? Well, I tried. Does it work?

Image result for homemade bread still life

Breakfast

Honey softens
the warm bread

steaming
on the painted plate,

flowers
and a green vine

twisting through
the scattered crumbs,

the sticky splotches
of gold.