What the Heart Wants
Story20 total reviews
Comment from Phyllis Stewart
I lovvve this. I was a tree climber in my youth... another little monkey like you. When my mom couldn't find me, she'd look up into the trees in our yard, and there I'd be, on top of the world. Ah, to climb a tree again. But I can barely climb the stairs. One question:
They don't even notice the stars anymore. I share secrets with them.
WHo is THEY? Who doesn't notice the stars? You should make that clear. Use a noun instead of THEY. Otherwise, perfection! :)
reply by the author on 01-Mar-2016
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I lovvve this. I was a tree climber in my youth... another little monkey like you. When my mom couldn't find me, she'd look up into the trees in our yard, and there I'd be, on top of the world. Ah, to climb a tree again. But I can barely climb the stairs. One question:
They don't even notice the stars anymore. I share secrets with them.
WHo is THEY? Who doesn't notice the stars? You should make that clear. Use a noun instead of THEY. Otherwise, perfection! :)
Comment Written 01-Mar-2016
reply by the author on 01-Mar-2016
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I used to climb trees in roller skates. Duh. Well, "they" is the proverbial they, all inclusive them, the people who don't get him, try and stop him, put him down and are against him. Just the general usage that isn't specific. Maybe it should be as you say. I'll think about it. It starts out with "they" too though. Wow, what an awesome review. And from one of the very best and most favorite writers. Yep, I'm pretty pleased. :)) mikey
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Thankss for the clarification. Next time say PEOPLE instead.
I used to climb trees in roller skates. <-- LOL! You were born a nut. :)
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Oh yeah. People. I swear, the right answer looks so obvious when its sitting right in front of you. I never would have thought of that. DUH!
Comment from Pantygynt
I think this is almost a prose poem, it is certainly poetic prose. On the subject of aging - at 74 a subject close to my experience if not my heart this lilts along like a piece of poetry while telling the tale in a prose form. A clever piece of writing that I thoroughly enjoyed reading.
reply by the author on 01-Mar-2016
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I think this is almost a prose poem, it is certainly poetic prose. On the subject of aging - at 74 a subject close to my experience if not my heart this lilts along like a piece of poetry while telling the tale in a prose form. A clever piece of writing that I thoroughly enjoyed reading.
Comment Written 29-Feb-2016
reply by the author on 01-Mar-2016
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Delighted you enjoyed this. It's about as close to what I want to write as anything I post. This is what I write for myself. Your endorsement means a lot. Thanks so much, mikey
Comment from Spitfire
I'd call it a commentary or philosophical piece. As a literal piece it's confirmation that our soul doesn't realize our body can't do certain things. We TEACH the soul (had you fallen)
On another level, I see the soul taking the body on a journey to get in touch with a spiritual dimension. It is fulfilling but painful when those near you don't understand the 'language.'
I'm taking a class in psychic mediumship spiritual awareness. It's so wonderful to spend two and a half hours one day a month with like-minded people.
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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I'd call it a commentary or philosophical piece. As a literal piece it's confirmation that our soul doesn't realize our body can't do certain things. We TEACH the soul (had you fallen)
On another level, I see the soul taking the body on a journey to get in touch with a spiritual dimension. It is fulfilling but painful when those near you don't understand the 'language.'
I'm taking a class in psychic mediumship spiritual awareness. It's so wonderful to spend two and a half hours one day a month with like-minded people.
Comment Written 28-Feb-2016
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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That sounds like a really awesome class. It certainly has given you some cool insights on this piece. Thanks a bunch, very enlightening. Wow, a six from my mentor. I've graduated. Well, until you catch me napping. HA!! mikey
Comment from Ric Myworld
Fiction or reality, who says they can't be both and the same. Just because we make something up, doesn't mean it can't come true. I mean, life its self is a fairy tale. Your story reminds me of the time I climbed a 150 foot water tower in a college town not far from where I live. We set on the walkway looking out for many miles. After smoking a joint, our buzz made everything even better. The wind, stars, and planes flying past. It was a wonderful experience. Then, it was almost 3:00 in the morning. Still a little drunk, the buzz wearing off, and it was time to climb down. That's when the paranoia set in. My head was swimming, my friend puking over the side. It was all we could do to hang onto the hand rails. Me the tough guy, afraid of nothing or no one. I couldn't even stand to pee without swaying in the breeze. Soon the tower was encircled by flashing lights. Police cars, fire trucks, and the paramedic vans lit up the whole city as people gathered by the hundreds to see two idiots stuck on a water tower. We weren't trying to commit suicide as the authorities thought, we were just afraid to climb down Thanks for another of your fine metaphor readings that brings back memories, some I would like to forget. Great job. :-)
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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Fiction or reality, who says they can't be both and the same. Just because we make something up, doesn't mean it can't come true. I mean, life its self is a fairy tale. Your story reminds me of the time I climbed a 150 foot water tower in a college town not far from where I live. We set on the walkway looking out for many miles. After smoking a joint, our buzz made everything even better. The wind, stars, and planes flying past. It was a wonderful experience. Then, it was almost 3:00 in the morning. Still a little drunk, the buzz wearing off, and it was time to climb down. That's when the paranoia set in. My head was swimming, my friend puking over the side. It was all we could do to hang onto the hand rails. Me the tough guy, afraid of nothing or no one. I couldn't even stand to pee without swaying in the breeze. Soon the tower was encircled by flashing lights. Police cars, fire trucks, and the paramedic vans lit up the whole city as people gathered by the hundreds to see two idiots stuck on a water tower. We weren't trying to commit suicide as the authorities thought, we were just afraid to climb down Thanks for another of your fine metaphor readings that brings back memories, some I would like to forget. Great job. :-)
Comment Written 28-Feb-2016
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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That's a great story. Write it up and post it. Awesome. Use the same style you used right here. They'll eat it up. We love stuff like that. HAHAHA! You can lie and say you flew off like Superman and they had to rescue your lame buddy!!!! mikey
Comment from Gloria ....
Mikey, I would call this an allegory or a parable using metaphorical presentation.
It's adeptly told because you have utilized ancient symbolism including the might oak or Celtic Oak. The oak is considered a mystical storehouse of wisdom embodied within its towering strength. Its expanse to be honoured for its endurance similar to people who age and still maintain innocence and wonder of youth and faith in those things unseen.
And the lady who stays behind climbs up the tree to be right with you but only when the others can't see. She might be the metaphor of the magical heart.
It's a beautifully written story and only the stars know the secret. They glitter in response.
Gloria
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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Mikey, I would call this an allegory or a parable using metaphorical presentation.
It's adeptly told because you have utilized ancient symbolism including the might oak or Celtic Oak. The oak is considered a mystical storehouse of wisdom embodied within its towering strength. Its expanse to be honoured for its endurance similar to people who age and still maintain innocence and wonder of youth and faith in those things unseen.
And the lady who stays behind climbs up the tree to be right with you but only when the others can't see. She might be the metaphor of the magical heart.
It's a beautifully written story and only the stars know the secret. They glitter in response.
Gloria
Comment Written 28-Feb-2016
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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I'm pleased you caught the symbolism of the oak, no one else did although I thought it would still work well without that factor anyway. I hope the human aspect comes through either way. Allegory or parable rings true to me. Thanks so much for that. I'm often stymied as to what to call these things as the choices available aren't close. Letter and diary? No. I truly appreciate your insights, Gloria, they are rare. mikey
Comment from nancy_e_davis
I don't know what to tell you either Michael.
We are all looking for approval and fulfillment.
Will we find it in the stars? We are alone,
but we're not. I feel what you are saying, but
I don't know what you are saying. So I am strange too.
xxx Nancy
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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I don't know what to tell you either Michael.
We are all looking for approval and fulfillment.
Will we find it in the stars? We are alone,
but we're not. I feel what you are saying, but
I don't know what you are saying. So I am strange too.
xxx Nancy
Comment Written 28-Feb-2016
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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Strange is good, I hope. LOL I think we're all probably in the same boat and that's why we keep writing, trying to find answers. Thanks so much. mike
Comment from Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
I thought this was really lovely, Mikey, and I think the metaphor most definitely is you. To reach the top of the tree, how wonderful, I can only get half way up, but I will persevere and one day... That amazing painting, that ocean on stars, that incredible universe you can see all from the top of the tree. You did it, now it's my turn. amazing poem, Mikey. xsx sandra
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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I thought this was really lovely, Mikey, and I think the metaphor most definitely is you. To reach the top of the tree, how wonderful, I can only get half way up, but I will persevere and one day... That amazing painting, that ocean on stars, that incredible universe you can see all from the top of the tree. You did it, now it's my turn. amazing poem, Mikey. xsx sandra
Comment Written 28-Feb-2016
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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Thanks so very much, Sandra. Of course you'll reach it, no doubt whatsoever, getting in the tree is the hassle. :)) What a wonderful review. So very appreciated. mikey
Comment from Barb Hensongispsaca
Its a metaphoric you...lol
And there is not doubt while they are talking about the crazy Mikey...there is also admiration and love at the same time...how do I know?....well...
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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Its a metaphoric you...lol
And there is not doubt while they are talking about the crazy Mikey...there is also admiration and love at the same time...how do I know?....well...
Comment Written 28-Feb-2016
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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Hi, Barb
Are you up this early or are you nuts like me and not asleep yet? Hahaha. Are they talking about me? Yeah, I knew it ... jibber jabber jibber jabber ....
Thanks so much, love. mikey
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You're the best and an excellent write, dear friend. As for me? Did I miss the night?
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Naw, they cancelled it. :))
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OH thank goodness, I thought I was losing my mind...or getting it back...let me see...
Comment from Rosalyne
Hi, Mikey.
Your story/memoir is beautiful, facing the challenges of getting older, but not willing to allow it to hold you back. You see the beauty of life, the stars and the world around you. How involved some are into only themselves, missing out on all there is to see. You showed how wide a view you do see. Being different is good! Paper cutouts are so boring. :)
Bye
Rosalyne :)
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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Hi, Mikey.
Your story/memoir is beautiful, facing the challenges of getting older, but not willing to allow it to hold you back. You see the beauty of life, the stars and the world around you. How involved some are into only themselves, missing out on all there is to see. You showed how wide a view you do see. Being different is good! Paper cutouts are so boring. :)
Bye
Rosalyne :)
Comment Written 28-Feb-2016
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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What lovely words to hear. I'm pleased that different is good, I'm certainly that I suppose. Thanks a million, mikey
Comment from Realist101
This is what they tell me I write. Vignettes. ? Lovely Mike. I can't climb anymore of course, but sure used to. I loved it. And I look at stars now and just bawl like a fool because they let me waste my life. No...it's not their fault. The fault in our stars. lol! Don't stop loving the stars. Don't ignore them either. :) S.
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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This is what they tell me I write. Vignettes. ? Lovely Mike. I can't climb anymore of course, but sure used to. I loved it. And I look at stars now and just bawl like a fool because they let me waste my life. No...it's not their fault. The fault in our stars. lol! Don't stop loving the stars. Don't ignore them either. :) S.
Comment Written 28-Feb-2016
reply by the author on 28-Feb-2016
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Yeah, I see 'em up there and I'm plotting ... biding my time. Ha! I'm so pleased you liked this. Vignettes, cool that sounds like an apt description. Thanks so much. mikey
