Order of the Good Write

That Magic Feeling When the Words Flow. A Blog by Debi Rotmil


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‘The Devil’s Radio’ Shows Why Silence is Better

ghfield

Found on Google Search. Apologies for not crediting, but I couldn’t find who did this picture.

The Devil’s Radio – by George Harrison

Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip

I heard it in the night
Words that thoughtless speak
Like vultures swooping down below
On the devil’s radio

I hear it through the day
Airwaves gettin’ filled
With gossip broadcast to and fro
On the devil’s radio

Oh yeah, gossip
Gossip, oh yeah

He’s in the clubs and bars
And never turns it down
Talking about what he don’t know
On the devil’s radio

He’s in your TV set
Won’t give it a rest
That soul betraying so and so
The devil’s radio

Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip
(Oh yeah) gossip, (gossip) oh yeah
(Gossip) oh yeah, (oh yeah) gossip

It’s white and black like industrial waste
Pollution of the highest degree
You wonder why I don’t hang out much
I wonder how you can’t see

He’s in the films and songs
And on all your magazines
It’s everywhere that you may go
The devil’s radio

Oh yeah, gossip
Gossip, oh yeah

Runs thick and fast, no one really sees
Quite what bad it can do
As it shapes you into something cold
Like an Eskimo igloo

It’s all across our lives
Like a weed it’s spread
’till nothing else has space to grow
The devil’s radio

Can creep up in the dark
Make us hide behind shades
And buzzing like a dynamo
The devil’s radio

oh yeah
(Gossip) gossip, (gossip) gossip
Oh yeah, gossip I heard you on the secret wireless
Gossip, oh yeah You know the devil’s radio, child
Gossip, gossip
Gossip, gossip

Written by George Harrison • Copyright © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, The Bicycle Music Company, Peermusic Publishing


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The Current State of Things, By Bob Dylan 1974

screenshot-2016-12-21-22-20-20
Idiot wind
Blowing like a circle around my skull,
From the Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol
Idiot wind
Blowing every time you move your teeth
You’re an idiot, babe
It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe
I can’t feel you anymore
I can’t even touch the books you’ve read
Every time I crawl past your door
I been wishin’ I was somebody else instead
Down the highway, down the tracks
Down the road to ecstasy
I followed you beneath the stars
Hounded by your memory
And all your ragin’ glory
I been double-crossed now
For the very last time and now I’m finally free
I kissed goodbye the howling beast
On the borderline which separated you from me
You’ll never know the hurt I suffered
Nor the pain I rise above,
And they’ll never know the same about you
Your holiness or your kind of love
And it makes me feel so sorry
Idiot wind
Blowing through the buttons of our coats
Blowing through the letters that we wrote
Idiot wind
Blowing through the dust upon our shelves
We’re idiots, babe
It’s a wonder we can even feed ourselves


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“History Has Its Eyes on You”: Vote

good-old-things

I’m a first generation American, born to parents who each came to this country as refugees due to two separate historical events. My mother was Cuban and left when Castro threw her family out of the country. My father survived a childhood running from Hitler and found refuge in the US. Today, I voted for my kin and everyone who came to this country to participate in its democracy. I pray that goodness will prevail today. I believe this acrimonious election is the truest test of democracy and what our forefathers fought for.  Today, I voted in a senior citizen building in Los Angeles’ Korea Town, where 99% of the tenants were Korean. I’m sure those who were able to came down to vote. This is what makes America great. We are a community of immigrants. All of us. This country is and has always been GREAT.

So many fought for this right to vote. This was how I felt this morning leaving the polls.


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Writing About Synchronicity

morganlibraryceiling

The Morgan Library Ceiling

I was listening to an audio recording about signs from the universe and divine timing.

You know, those moments when you’ve just thought of a person and then you run into them.

You get an old, obscure song stuck in your head and you then you hear it on the radio.

You get behind a car with a license plate that says Jodie245, and you had just throught of your old friend Jodie about ten minutes before when you haven’t though of her in years?

In other words – synchronicity.

It’s been my experience that these incredible moments are meaningful signs of spiritual connection. Sometimes, my writing comes from these wonderful moments. That’s where the creative flow comes from.

So, the audio clip ended and I smiled to myself because I’ve been feeling in the flow. I clicked over to Instagram and randomly found a photo posted by Julian Lennon of his newly cleaned out garage. I loved the stonework on the floor and the artwork on the wall. He obviously has a lovely house.

And I thought – he made it alright after all, you know, despite his difficult childhood in the limelight, with a moody, distracted genius father and the acrimonious breakup of his parent’s marriage. Of course he became a successful songwriter and performer himself; yet, you know the ways of kids of the famous. Life can be difficult considering all the rumors about money or familial breakups.

Then a few minutes later, I got up and went downstairs to buy gum in our shop downstairs and “Hey Jude” was playing on the radio.

So, yeah – I believe in this divine timing stuff. I’ve had it many times in my life. How about you?

Writing Prompt: What fun moments of great timing have you’ve experienced? What amazing moments of synchronicity has crossed your path? This is good material. Write away!

 


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Writing About Plants of the Century

bertatheagaveplant

“Bertha” The Stalk Sprouting Agave Plant, so big I couldn’t fit her in frame.

Writing Inspiration: When you go out into your neighborhood – what do you see that inspires you? Is it the old lady who lives in 446? Is it the garbage cans that never get picked up, or the old tree that looks like it’s going to come crashing through the Wilson’s new garage? Write about it. Here’s something that inspired me over on Istagram, which I’ve copied and pasted here.  

The Agave plant – aka The Century Plant- waits 25 to 80 years to bloom a stalk that flowers seed pods to propagate the next generation. It blooms like this when it knows it’s ready to die. Its death is sped up by putting all its energy and nutrients toward the growth of that stalk which will stand for a year or more until it falls and its seeds penetrate the earth. You can see her flayed open base yellowing in comparison to the other younger, healthier green Agave plants around her base. Once it starts growing, it grows at a rapid pace – 6 inches a day – and can rise more than 20 feet.

I walk by this beauty every day on my way to and from work. Its story is a testimony towards beauty, dignity and legacy. Unfortunately Bertha – as I like to call her, although I’m not sure if a plant like this is male or female (likely male, I mean…look at that stalk!) – will likely come crashing down and shed her seeds on the sun roof of the Range Rover in the neighbors driveway.

Huh… Nature…am I right?