always a work-in-progress

author’s note: Another spill.  Another bottle. WHEN I CHOPPED OFF MY HEAD Stuck in the rut of my own tiresome thoughts in desperation, I chopped off my head. Only to find that bean rolling after me everywhere I went. Try as I might, I could not lose my head. I can still hear that mouth in its brain rambling on and on and on. But with that head off my neck I can now hear my heart much more…

SPOILER ALERT: Yes, I reveal the ending—that enigmatic ending.  And I reveal much else besides.  But I left so much out.  So much good stuff.  This film has many delicious details. Many have asked: What is she trying to tell Marcello? The “she” is the girl who appears on the beach in the final scene of Frederico Fellini’s La Dolce Vita1… And Marcello is Marcello Rubini, a celebrity journalist…

author’s note: One night as a child, I saw the moon following our pickup truck. Then I decided: probably follows everyone around. CROW CRY MOONRISE Here’s a fable I wrote recently for you to enjoy and ponder: The cry of a crow came at the moment the tip of a gold moon appeared across the desert on the eastern horizon. So the moon believed it’d caused the bird to cry. And the bird was…

If space aliens visited my dreams, I’d probably look at them as a metaphor.  Notice I said “probably”.  If I kept getting the same dream and the dream seemed realistic, I might entertain other possibilities. Consider the story of Betty and Barney Hill…  After a trip with her husband to Niagara Falls in September 1961, Betty Hill endured the same nightmare five nights running.  Many people…

I no longer have a mole on my cheek. you tube channel © 2026, Michael R. Patton

author’s note: I write prescriptions for myself. KING KONG DANCES ON THE WINTER GRASS As I walk over this expanse of stubby brown grass I’m inspired by the morning sound of ice crystals crackling under my boot heels and for a few moments I become King Kong— I dance with my big hairy feet— pulverizing the cruel ice. Crunch crunch crunch. King Kong lets his inner child play and in so doing,…

author’s note: The house in the photo above is that house.  We never thought to take pictures of our own house, I regret to say. THAT HOUSE In a recent dream I returned to my childhood home. The belly of the whale— the cacophonous womb where I danced and wailed. For years I’ve looked back so that I might know that house so that I could move on. I’ve gone through those rooms so many…

author’s note: When a man hears angels singing he hears angels singing.                — Mary Oliver A LITTLE BIRD SINGS OUR SONG Listen to that tree on the corner of the street. Someone cries from the darkness of the leaves. No, not someone—a bird with a tongue like a whip stings me with its deep-blue nocturnal blues. But at least now I’m awake.  Now I can hear what I feel. Our hidden…

author’s note: As a boy, I was once told the Moon was made of cheese. From that point on, I ate a lot of cheese. TAKE A VACATION TO THE MOON I saw the Moon so close. So round.  So bright.  So milky. And so as before my heart lifted my arms to embrace that bewitching world. But this time, to my surprise I shot straight to the lunar surface. In joy I bounced like a boy filled with…

Peter Sellers said he wanted to play Chance because like Chance, he was a “blank vessel”1.  A frank admission, since the blank vessel of Chance seems pretty empty.  I’m talking about Chance the Gardener, the protagonist of the movie Being There2. At the beginning of the film, we see him in his modest room on the lower floor of an old townhouse in Washington DC.  He tends to the small walled…

I’m at the end of something. Consider the evidence: In one recent dream… I’m finishing up some creative work.  I wonder how important it really is.  In any case, I know it’s what I’m supposed to be doing right now.  So I’m going to continue until it’s complete. In another… As I work hard to finish a project, I argue with a man who sits nearby.  He doesn’t like how I’m doing the work. In a…

author’s note: “I can dig it, he can dig it, she can dig it,   we can dig it, they can dig it, you can dig it.   Oh, let’s dig it. Can you dig it, baby?”     — from “Grazing in the Grass”, The Friends of Distinction ELEVATING THE MOLE I’m here, in part, to gather information for a big knowledge bank— the same metaphysical storehouse all humans use when they need to deposit what they’ve…

author’s note: A decades of life reduced to a few lines. THE QUIET DARK As a fledgling adult, I preferred the cacophony: I thrilled to feel the energy of the loud proud mishmash of noise roiling in the public square. But soon the commotion infested my head and I wasn’t able to hear my thoughts and feelings clearly— a problem indeed when choices must be made. I was struggling to decide which…

author’s note: I guess I could have used women instead of men in the poem below. But men are more believable. WHEN THE MEN FIRST TRIED TO TALK Word had gone out across the land:    Men need to gather together    to express what they think and feel.    That type of deep cleansing release    will benefit the world’s mental health. In response to the call nine men in our small town sat down in…

author’s note: Maybe my family should’ve sung together.  We might have learned harmony. HOW THE FAMILY FOUND THEIR GRIEF In the backyard of the old house the willow tree grieved all day, all night long. But inside the house the family sang happy songs. Sometimes all day, all night long. Their music lightened many hearts. But while they played the willow weeped— its thin leaves drifted…

author’s note: Written after watching the 2019 documentary The Seer and The Unseen. THE MAGIC OF IMAGINATION One long-time resident can actually see the legendary elves who inhabit our island. This woman especially enjoys a quaint village she recently found in a shadowy stand of oak between two little knolls. Yes, I believe her stories because I can see the shine in her eyes when she tells…

I not only wake up from dreams, I also wake up in dreams… Such as this recent one: I wake up in bed in the middle of the night and discover the lights in the house aren’t working. A fuse must have blown.  Maybe a couple of them. Only one light remains on: a bulb shines down on a round dining table.  But that’s not enough light.  I know I have a box of fuses around here somewhere.  Just need…