J.J. Goodman: Writings, Musings and More

Whether rose or a name 'Tis all the same With me carried are you O'er shoulders so strong Or across arms so long 'Tis my devotion for all to view Though colors do fade 'Tis the memory made Of moments remembered so dear Though painful a time Results so sublime Help me to carry you near No need for a note Upon which I wrote Words t'was nervous to say For the script of my hand Now adorned in a band With me wherever I lay Some call me mad With these things that I've had Sketched and drawn and designed 'Tis my own choice to bear And I really don't care Whether you find me refined So ask not again Why on my body I'd pen Permanent pieces of art My expression is mine So if you care to opine Please stop before even you start You've now heard my tale Though my words have grown stale For many still simply refuse To accept what they see When they gaze upon me Me and my splendid ...

I know it's been a while… So I am reposting Part Five here. Part Six follows… _______________________________________ Part 5. [ Two weeks later ] Caitlin:            Hey. Josh:                It's ALIIIIVE!!!!! C:                    Shut up. J:                      You had that coming. * pause * C:                    I know. I'm sorry. J:                      I'm the guy. Aren't I the one who's supposed to disappear after, you know… C: ...

If I ruled the sky I would hide the clouds And scatter the winds The sun would warm us by day And the stars dazzle us by night And all our worries would blow away If I ruled the sky If I ruled the sea I would calm the waters And quell the storms By day we'd set or compass to the sun With the North Star's glow to guides us by night And all our worries would float away If I ruled the sea If I ruled the land I would soften the ground And help you climb every mountain Its radiating heat will warm us by day And its coolness sooth us by night And all our worries would roll away If I ruled the land If I ruled all the creatures I would give them shelter And they'd love in return The lark would serenade us by day And the lion guard us by night And all our worries would be chased away If I ruled all the creatures If I ruled only me I would give it my best And accept all my faults I'd hold your hand in the day ...

Sometimes all it takes is a simple gesture, whether a smile, a wink, or a fingertip glanced across the back of your neck, and you're done. You feel the sensation wash over you and course through your veins. You look into those eyes and you're lost, hoping never to find yourself again.   That's how it starts. How it ends you'll never know until fate decides the hour. So, dear destiny, how does it end? In Shakespearean triumph or tragedy? Are your lovers star crossed, or simply sorrowed?   Do they end madly in love, or mad as Ophelia's love would make her? Love is a fickle creature, spurred by desire and spurned by conspiring forces. How does it survive and flourish when faced with turmoil and turbulence? What is it that steers the ship clear of tempest and doldrums alike? Is it a steady wind or swirling breezes? What needs love, to persevere? A soft hand or heavy heart? Clearness of mind or energy of emotion? Perhaps a combination of all, or nothing. It is a...

If you listened to the stories, and believed in that sort of thing, all you needed to do to erase the past was to take a drive down Preemption Road. From what he understood, it was, legend aside, quite a nice drive. Preemption Road led from Main Street all the way to the interstate on the other side of the county, winding its way over and through the hills and along the river as it went. To him, though, that pretty much described every road in Vermont. What was so special about this one in particular was beyond his comprehension. Maybe it was the name: Preemption. As if somehow, just by driving its course, the road itself would preempt whatever decision, event, pain or problem you sought to forget. It was a silly notion, indeed, if not intriguing. He'd heard the stories since childhood but never felt compelled to investigate their veracity any further. At least he hadn't until that certain Saturday night. Grady Tillman was supposed to have been skiing but an upset stom...

Why is it that some things that have no real bearing on our lives affect us the way they do? Take for example, the use of the words "affect" and "effect." Something affects you, or has an effect on you. It does not "effect you." And though your improper use of the word affects me in no meaningful way, it still has an effect on me, i.e. it makes my skin crawl with grammar hives. [They're real. Look it up.] (Dude, does someone have a case of the Mondays?) No. Say that again and I will show you my fair, Jennifer Aniston style. [Name the movie, receive two credits against the demerits you will inevitably receive at some point in the near future.] I write this because two major events occurred this past weekend, neither of which should have any real effect on me whatsoever. My life is not particularly changed by the passage of these events, nor I am I affected in any physical way by what's occurred. Still, I feel affected just the same, and...