The High IQ Haiku Collection

I’ve been thinking about creating new poetry in 2022. It’s been out of my league for a while now and I am excited to have in my sights again. One style has been my favorite more than any of the others. The Haiku offers a unique challenge, but there’s more to it than that: a great feeling exists when it’s done right, both for the writer and the reader.  Maybe it’s the way it brings nature and humanity together as they should be. Maybe it’s the way it makes the writer pack giant ideas down into a very small containers. And, the reaction when the tiny gift is opened and the reader gets to watch as the surprise opens and unfolds.

Rules?  Only a few.  17 syllables, three lines of 5,7,5, written about nature. mention something about a season, add in an anthropomorphic generalization, and you’ll be close enough to say you did it.  The magic is in how you present your idea.

But, the “Liberal” Haiku is one where anything can be written about in anyway. It’s fun to write and read.  Here’s a quick one.

 

Some Say: I’m a Hiaku Too,

If writing three lines,

Seventeen neat Syllables,

seems easy? Well it ain’t

 

 

 

But honestly, most of the liberal style of Haiku I’ve read doesn’t feel right. They seem to be imposters.  But, if done with enough thought and precision, I’m sure the feel of high poetry could be there.

 

 

 

 

 

Haiku Twenty Twenty-Two

From Page Number One
Haiku: Number: Two Zero Two Two
Thaddeus Maximus
__________________________________________
Whoa! And Wow Wee Wow
We’re all Willing Witnesses
To our Promises
We Are Constructs
Painful wrecks carefully chiseled
From God’s Own Image
Ring Ring Tinnitus
Musical Gift That Keeps Giving
I hear you, clearly
Click, Pop, Magic Knees
You are amazing, thank you
for everything
Patience, I see you
Growing, silently, But True
The things we will do
Gratification
The Great I… Always Me… Me!!
Get A Grip!! Grow Up!!
Elusive Story
My American Novel
I know you’re in there
Instability
Mental Chain Reaction
Chemical Spirit
Our Lives Read Quickly
‘Though Your Character Lives
Your Fable Will Fade
Great Shepard, My Lord
I am your littlest sheep
Please remember me.
________________________________
First Words Written in
the year 2022
Thank you for Reading

Thousand Acre Garden

That Garden, That Knowledge,

And Why We Keep Coming Back to the Table

For the first time, possibly the first time ever, we are all faced with a thriving 1000 acre garden of knowledge, topped to the brim, overflowing with information and teeming with teachers from countless colleges, and online classes. Any hobby, any subject, career or past time can be studied from anywhere in the world by anyone at anytime, at whatever pace suits best.

Any endeavor can be explored through pictures, books, and a myriad of multi-media. Lectures held either in person or remotely from over 70 years of archives can be attended immediately; language and location is no longer of any consequence.

Files of dedicated data are constantly compiled and stored outside of the normal channels of learning, the reasons for this ranges from professional, to corporate, to amateur. Every step breaking down every facet of any imagined interest into bite sized easily digestible portions ready to deliver. There is no limit to what a person can learn or where they can apply that knowledge after is is attained.

And, although this beautiful garden is a delicately designed, thoroughly thought out arrangement, perfectly planned with each lesson being it’s own individual intellectual treasure just waiting to be uncovered, this could not be further from the truth.

This garden is wild. The fruits it offers us is old and has appeared many times throughout past ages.

It is unkempt.

The fact that all this knowledge lies at the top layer, mostly exposed, or atleast easily accessible by anyone who is interested is enough to look must prove that this garden of knowledge is a natural phenomenon, like oxygen or sunlight. It’s certainly not something a human civilization or culture would created and hand out completely free for people to enjoy.

 

The seeds of this garden of knowledge were sown deep into the soil eons and ages ago by something set on the pursuit of educating and evolving a people and planet. This didn’t have to be planned by an alien race or an all-powereful deity.

This explosion of knowledge could just be part of a very simple primitive system.  Even the fundamental system that brought subatomic matter together, is the same that produced gigantic organic factories able to manufacture and pump out megatons of complex molecules into the universe.

Time and Gravity started with electrons and protons and grew into galaxies filled with stars and nebulae and planets, which in our case became a world filled with animals and cultures and who knows what else is to come.

All it takes is Time and Gravity and boom, you get everything we see, hear, taste, and think.

So, after eons, and ages, and ages of eons, Time and Gravity could be responsible for some very delicate and highly sophisticated factories that are able to pump out some very surprising results.

Maybe elements we call Language and Knowledge and Technology.

We know that many Mysteries and Secrets existed in the past and even still today.

At one time, not long ago, the formation of elements and the forces inside of stars was beyond the horizons of our imagination. However, we can now look in at atomic structures and out at astronomical structure and see science as just a fact of life.

 

Our history is just as elaborate and extensive as it seems to be. From the things Egyptians did to the things modern civilizations can not do, we are overwhelmed by the things we have forgotten. Just the magnitude of ancient truths we see, yet have no explanation for, should be enough to convince us that we are returning to a level of knowledge we once had.

Sea of Love

As We Cast Ourselves Onto The Sea of Love

Thadd Presley

Anyone who talked to, or knew anything about, those who went out onto the sea and over the horizon in search of the elusive dream, must imagine crossing that strange ocean and how it will feel when first they set their feet and plant their flag somewhere in the pristine sands. Stories told of warm beaches and  hinted about the many ways it changes a person’s life.  No one knew for sure what lied out in the depths nor could they name the island.  No one ever dared a guess as to what it would be to go there and no one thought to ask the best way.

It was enough, only, to have hope and strength enough to set off alone into the vast ocean with nothing but a small boat and excited expectation. Arriving alive upon one of the sandy islands with a face full of sun during the day and eyes filled with countless stars at night was more than most would ever acheive.

“I’m going to that place lovers go,” one young man burned into a small piece of leather and that was enough, that was just the way of it.  All the directions around the compass and all the destinations on the world map meant nothing if love didn’t set the wheel and drive the vessel.

No one took provisions or asked for a map, no first mate ever boarded with the explorer.  It was a lone voyage.  On occasion, there were a few words quietly spoken by some who cared to announce their departure, but it rarely surpassed: “Bon voyage.  If I don’t return just know I am happy and I did as I knew best.”

An endless blue sky sat above a never ending ocean, indistinguishable except for sliding wave or a floating cloud. Then, with a pull of anchor, onto the sea of love they went.  Just a hope and a prayer.

A Low-Life at High Tide

 

A Low-Life at High Tide

by Thadd Presley

 

Breakwater Town
Out on the prowl
A million waves crash with one sound
To a short, fat light house

East-End friend
Best of the best of times then
Out on the point
Just more of my kind
That chick was way out of joint
I was a low-life at high tide

The battery at dawn
A quick shot across the bow
Is this soul for sale
or is it a pawn?
For cryin out loud
It’s far too late for that now

Sudden movement of the crowd
Left with no soul of my own
Everything, not lost, is for a sale
For crying out loud
It’s too late to save me now
A low-life from a small town

No fool like an old fool
Super cool dude from the old school
I’ve been like this a long time
Lived my entire life at high tide

In Shades of Red

 

The focus of “In Shades of Red” lies solely on the words of Jesus Christ.

It serves to only highlight what Jesus said. You will find the books, chapters, and verse numbers of the Holy Bible have not been included. My hope is that the reader will have a greater a chance to hear what Jesus taught and to see what His life meant for the rest of the world.

 

In Shades of Red – paperback

To Learn Something about Anything

 

“The Willingness to Learn Something about Anything”

 

“Life comes down to our willingness to wonder about something and having the courage to know anything.” —  quoted from the Universe to Thadd Presley

When I contemplate original ideas and create art, I feel invincible. Absolutely nothing can measure up to the things I dream and bring into reality. Nothing can take away the emotions I release into the world as long as they truly come from my heart and mind. I’m not just another creative power of the universe. I know it comes off as weak and unimportant sometimes, but my power comes directly from the source of all things. The Creator entrusted me with certain creative powers and I use them to create my world and the worlds of those closest to me. What I create is both a gift from me to the universe and a gift from the universe to me, working in unison with powers and beings with no true description in our dimension. A gift from a society completely incorruptible and eternal granting the ability to bring forth lifetimes of timelines and fill them with beautiful experiences and powerful revelations that are only understood by those who have witnessed the unlimited capacity to love and receive love. It’s easy to love those who loved you first. It is all about love.

Then, there comes upon me a darkness, such times I begin to doubt my origins and I start to think that I’m not from a special part of the inner sanctum. I think that I’m just another sheep standing in the field and this field is just one field with many fields. I’m just here and no one cares. A field within many fields, a fold amongst many folds, just a sheep standing alone that sounds ad looks no different than the others. I think that I’m nothing but an animal. And if that’s not damning enough, I begin to imagine I’m are tagged, tracked, and controlled — not by a great Shepard, but – by a group of sheep who have put themselves in charge and guide me from birth to the grave. Nothing I do is a surprise to anybody or anything. Especially to those I have somehow landed in the higher positions of power concerning this world. Nothing I have ever thought is original or inspired by a higher reality. Every idea I’ve had has either been had by many, perhaps by all, who have come before me or has been planted in my head by other sheep. The greatest act of creation I could ever produce is nothing but an outcome from a watered down classroom process or a spasm of unrealized dreams and incomplete thoughts. Generations of manic and depressed men and women who lived and died never knowing anything concrete about reality or the true nature of life have had these same ideas, thoughts, and dreams and just like them I’m going to do nothing with them and if I did no one would care because they are busy trying not to starve or freeze to death. I begin to think: there is truly no new thing under the sun. There are no revelations left to be had by anyone. The best I can ever do is reproduce in some dramatic way the failures of those who came before me.

The only difference I can see, if any, that separate the sheep like me from the other sheep is this egotistical, vanity-driven, self-serving act of writing down my thoughts and ideas. Why do I do it? It’s vanity in its grandest state directed from a place of fear. I’m afraid of being forgotten, afraid of dying, and besides the fact that somewhere deep inside I must truly think that I am somehow different and my thoughts are in some way important enough to be remembered.  I am so afraid of being just like everyone else, I do my best to be different in just a way as to not be singled out, but to be looked upon for a moment and hopefully understood.

So, I continue to try and capture the beautiful ideas with elegant word play. If I can introduce a clever character with an interesting story to a reader than it must that I am different and can possibly make a difference in a life. If I can create intelligent story lines and bring pleasure to people, I believe I can offer them reasons to exist beside just being alive and miserable. If I can make the lives of the people in my head produce answers to the hard questions so often asked by the people in real world situations than perhaps I will deserve to be remembered by those who are interested in knowing the secrets of life and the world in which we live.

In many ways, I am a sheep looking to my shepherd for direction and safety. But, sometimes, I look down at my own hoof-prints and think they are somehow different from the countless others. Simultaneously, I realize that believing I’m different, and even better in some ways, than all the other sheep is maniacal and delusional by any measure. Yet, it seems true. I hope my vain-maniacal delusion is harmless. Perhaps, if I’m very lucky, my insanity might somehow be helpful to someone, somewhere. It is, after all, the only way I know of being part of the fold.

Sometimes, I think everyone wants to believe, or at least should believe, that their hoof prints are some majestic, cosmic Morse code that can only be deciphered by other genius sheep who believe in the latest prophecy. On the outside we are the same, but, on the inside, we all feel we are special creatures captured and forced to live this current life as a sheep. There must be something that drives us and connects us to others who create and live with a similar burst of zealous understanding. We look alike, we talk alike, we all cry alike, and most of us don’t like the fact that we are all going to die alike.

To all the others in the fold, I tell you:

If you want to think that you are special and that someone, someday might come across an ancient hoof-prints you left in the mud and try to decipher it? Then, maybe you are!  Ad maybe there is a secret code embedded in all of our hoof-prints, and maybe there is not, but the only way to know is to document every step with honesty and precision. For is every life is trying to teach us the importance of being alive and now to enjoy life, then we must live as if we believe that life comes from somewhere and we will one day return to that place with the stories we have to tell. The only thing we can do today is have a willingness to wonder about everything and courage to push through the towering inferno of ignorance burning around us and dare to learn anything about something.

Metaphysics? Is it Science?

I have been asked about the science of metaphysics many times over the last twenty years. One of the most asked is: What does the subject cover? But right behind that is: Is it about ghosts and spiritual world?

 

I don’t think it is about ghost and the spiritual world at all. It does have the reputation of looking into subjects that are unknown to other science fields. But, that is why we need metaphysics. It does look into the unknown.

The best description I can give about metaphysics is that it’s the science of finding the right questions to ask about an unknown thing.

Once the right question is found and it makes enough sense to have a logical conclusion, then that question usually becomes it’s own science.  At one time, gravity, the atmosphere, the lights in the night sky were all approached from a spiritual angle of questioning.  But, once some insight was gained, and many hundreds of years of thinking was accomplished, the right questions began to come into view. Quite literally into view, as with the telescope and the microscope, for instance.

 

So, is metaphysics finished.  Not by a long shot.  There is still many unknowns in the world. Such as. what is consciousness?  We still haven’t found the right questions to ask about that subject.  And there are many, many more questions about our reality that we haven’t yet found the right instruments or tools to get at them in such a way as to form questions.

Is there other dimensions? This question is much about Gravity, because in many ways Gravity is still a very invisible subject to our sciences. Sure, we can see it interaction on our reality and we can quantify the force, but it’s not the whole picture.  Much of what we know as the force of gravity is not interacting with the stuff we see. It is leading researchers and physicist to consider the possibility of other dimensions which might explain where the undetectable fraction of gravity is manifesting.

What is a dimension? Where is a dimension? These are the questions that metaphysics think about and work on until a better question is formed that might lead to actual answers.

Another phenomenon, which has yet to have the right questions asked about it, is what happens after we die?  From the accounts of many people who have actually died and had what is known as a Near Death Experience, we get have sworn statements and must take them seriously.

So, we search for the right questions. What do people see?  What is the tunnel and the bright light at the end of it?

Answers then flood in from the other sciences. DMT from the brain, some say. Jesus and God, some say? It’s just a hallucination, other say.  and we can get no further that that because for one we have no way of recording and observing the actual event. And we don’t know the right questions to ask the witnesses.

Sure, we can say what did you see.  But, crime scene investigations will show you that many people don’t know what they are looking at most the time. So, we have to find tools and that involves finding the right questions to ask, so that a science — and no one knows which one — can invent a machine or a measuring device that will bring back data and concrete evidence.

So, metaphysics in a nutshell is a science that looks for the best questions to ask.

See, science is easy. Anyone can do it.

True Freedom Needs No Audience

Sometimes, when I sit with a notebook, I pretend there is no one. No one who will read it. No one who will ever even know I wrote it. This way, I can enjoy the moment for what it is. I am a writer and I enjoy writing.
No frills. No pretentious thoughts of where the creation can go and the over-arching story the character will eventually fit into. For that moment, I seek only the thrill of being alive and free.
True freedom needs no audience.  This is an idea our young people have forgotten. More and more, every detail seems to deserve a place on a public timeline somewhere.  Social media is changing the way we create. And I don’t mean for the worse or that civilization is on the decline.
I’m only saying, it’s nice to write and create. No client needed, no deadline looming, nothing pushed onto the back burner to make room for it, it’s just life being lived as one would live it without instigation or worry.
A Life lived Free.
A new stories written only because I had the time to stretch my mind and allow it to be itself.  A relaxed look into the voices of the characters who have lived in my head since I was a teenager. All those people that have shaped me.
Who are these voices, exactly? I’ve taken their advice, enjoyed their exultations, and heeded their warnings for decades but now I have learned to quiet my own voice and allow them to hold the pen.  For the first time, I am the one listening. I am the one being entertained.
Freedom needs no audience, I wrote, but perhaps I’m the audience of my own freedom.  I can take my rightful place and simply watch the show unfold.

Introducing Carl Gaskin

 

In the coming months, our goal here at Fiction Weekly will be to introduce Carl Gaskin to the literary circles of the world.  Not only will we get to know the characters and the worlds created by his original fiction, but also through live readings where he so effortlessly brings his craft to life.

So, join me, my friends, as we close our ranks around and rally support for a new voice in writing, a true creator, and architect of the human experience. Help me as we get behind Carl Gaskin and lift the words and voice of this talented storyteller into lives and the hearts of readers around the world.

Thank you in advance for your responses.

Join us for this adventure.

[UPDATE]

you can now visit,  subscribe, and soon be able to submit your own writings to Carl’s Blog

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