...monuments given and absorbed, forever ours, registered in eternity.
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Often less than a trickle, that creek was a haven of life to us kids.
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make any move you can - we all soon disappear.
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Today I went looking through my writing archives to find something written on or near this date in the past, and I found a poem written about 24 years and a week ago. It’s not particularly great nor too profound, but it does connect me with an important moment going even further back, to a golden day spent with my grandfather, Urban Lee Ridings. The day was sunny and warm, I remember, and I must have been somewhere around five or so. Grandpa instructed me to go and shake his money tree, and I could still walk you right to…
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In November of 1998, Beth and I were living in our Barrington Way townhome in Glendale, California, which hosted us and our cats nicely enough through a very exciting and challenging time. Going back to Arc of the Poet, that was our critical California move in the so-called “Fame and Fortune” era. While I was extremely thankful at that time to have landed on the staff of Crest National in Hollywood, my film industry dreams were still very personal, and I pressed on to the best of my abilities on every front. Externally, I continued to “swing for the fence”…
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The Perfect Record by Roger Darnell
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By the time I’d reached age 28, when I wrote this poem, I had come quite a distance in my sense of how I valued other people’s ideas. I had many individuals I respected deeply, but at the same time, an ever-expanding list of those who had given me counsel that I did not trust, believe nor identify with. And based on my growing list of personal achievements, I was coming to a place where I felt I could sort out these differences pretty effectively for myself, and maybe also provide some signposts for others. This is something I’m proud…
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Proud moment here: Amelia’s original poem has been published in the 2012 poetry collection “Talented” from the America Library of Poetry. She is letting me publish it here, too. Enjoy!
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I wrote this poem just a little over twenty years ago… a day before my 26th birthday, and a few weeks before Beth and I were married in Greenville, Illinois. It’s quite amusing to me that I mentioned feeling like I was 46, as that’s the age I am now; for the record, it feels very different than I guessed it would at that time. The good news is, it’s even better than I expected.
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Thinking back on my life 20 years ago, I have to say that today seems so much simpler. I wrote about that key personal era in “Arc of the Poet Part 6,” and although I think it makes for interesting reading, recalling those days is rather bracing for me. I had so much to prove to myself and the short list of others whose opinions really mattered to me, and although I was confident in my strengths and abilities, I was unsure about so much more. While I had come very far with the gifts provided by my family, as…