“First Words,” by Daniel Holland
If I write about cavemen, do I need to go to a library?
Or can I just say the caveman’s first two words?
Fire. Wheel.
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“Measuring Life,” thoughts by Daniel Holland
How to Measure Life is measured by a watch and a ruler. By the way, what time is it?
Scratching our Heads, Why? –by Daniel Holland
Why do we scratch our heads when we can’t figure something out? Are we simply buying time? Signalling that we are clueless? Or, do we think we’ll shake our brains a bit, and the information we are looking for will fall out?
Learning to Crawl and Talk–by Daniel Holland
LEARNING TO CRAWL — When I was little, I liked crawling and was able to crawl really fast. All the big people towering over me kept trying to get me to walk and stand up. The only time I would stand up is when no one was around. Crawling was my favorite way to get…
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Hey Man, this weird thing happened yesterday down at the vegetable stand I own. When they fertilized the field in back of my stand, the field flooded. The water rushed into a hole in back of the cabbage bin. Man, was I bummed out when I saw that! I didn’t want to throw away the…
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I put my mind in a time bottle. Watch the particles of brain matter funnel down the sand trap called Time.
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Perched on the end of faded green roughened seesaw. Roughened by sand poured over the board. I went up and down, then suddenly stopped. Stopped in midflight by a girl child turned woman. She said, “Here I am!” with her eyes. She made the sand feel solid.
“Measuring Life,” thoughts by Daniel Holland
How to Measure Life is measured by a watch and a ruler. By the way, what time is it?
Scratching our Heads, Why? –by Daniel Holland
Why do we scratch our heads when we can’t figure something out? Are we simply buying time? Signalling that we are clueless? Or, do we think we’ll shake our brains a bit, and the information we are looking for will fall out?
Learning to Crawl and Talk–by Daniel Holland
LEARNING TO CRAWL — When I was little, I liked crawling and was able to crawl really fast. All the big people towering over me kept trying to get me to walk and stand up. The only time I would stand up is when no one was around. Crawling was my favorite way to get…
“Invasion of the Cabbage,” a comic story by Daniel Holland
Hey Man, this weird thing happened yesterday down at the vegetable stand I own. When they fertilized the field in back of my stand, the field flooded. The water rushed into a hole in back of the cabbage bin. Man, was I bummed out when I saw that! I didn’t want to throw away the…
“Time Bottle,” a poem by Daniel Holland
I put my mind in a time bottle. Watch the particles of brain matter funnel down the sand trap called Time.
“She Saw,” a poem by Daniel Holland
Perched on the end of faded green roughened seesaw. Roughened by sand poured over the board. I went up and down, then suddenly stopped. Stopped in midflight by a girl child turned woman. She said, “Here I am!” with her eyes. She made the sand feel solid.
“Measuring Life,” thoughts by Daniel Holland
How to Measure Life is measured by a watch and a ruler. By the way, what time is it?
Scratching our Heads, Why? –by Daniel Holland
Why do we scratch our heads when we can’t figure something out? Are we simply buying time? Signalling that we are clueless? Or, do we think we’ll shake our brains a bit, and the information we are looking for will fall out?
Learning to Crawl and Talk–by Daniel Holland
LEARNING TO CRAWL — When I was little, I liked crawling and was able to crawl really fast. All the big people towering over me kept trying to get me to walk and stand up. The only time I would stand up is when no one was around. Crawling was my favorite way to get…
“Invasion of the Cabbage,” a comic story by Daniel Holland
Hey Man, this weird thing happened yesterday down at the vegetable stand I own. When they fertilized the field in back of my stand, the field flooded. The water rushed into a hole in back of the cabbage bin. Man, was I bummed out when I saw that! I didn’t want to throw away the…
“Time Bottle,” a poem by Daniel Holland
I put my mind in a time bottle. Watch the particles of brain matter funnel down the sand trap called Time.
“She Saw,” a poem by Daniel Holland
Perched on the end of faded green roughened seesaw. Roughened by sand poured over the board. I went up and down, then suddenly stopped. Stopped in midflight by a girl child turned woman. She said, “Here I am!” with her eyes. She made the sand feel solid.
This is such a direct thought, Daniel….going right to the source. Also, I enjoy the rhythm of the piece. You have an inquiring mind. It seems you often set up your pieces with a question.