Category Archives: Peter’s Writings

Things Peter writes for his own benefit, not necessarily intended for or made available to the general public.

Plans

Purposeless motion is chaos
That ends right where it began
Wasting both time and effort
When expended without any plan

Planning gives sense of direction
Providing a goal to achieve
Setting a clear objective
And something in which to believe

But plans have a transient nature
That shift with the altering tides
Changing the traveled direction
Till my plans and future collide

And the end point I had longed for
Falls victim to what must be
So sadly I concede defeat
And forcefully subjugate me

Satan’s Laugh – Part 6: Transition

Previous: Part 5 – Saying Goodby

“Colonel Harwood,” the technician said smiling and standing up as Jim entered the small room, “I’ve got the final one here.”

Jim limped towards a chair stuck in the corner and dropped himself into it before taking off the temporary prosthetic he’d been using. It was getting more comfortable as the stump hardened up and he got used to using it, but it was still unpleasant. The phantom pain was getting to be less of an issue as well so long as he was busy doing something.

“I’m getting better with these things,” Jim … Read the rest

Satan’s Laugh – Part 5: Saying Goodbye

Previous – Part 4: Rehab

The airline had arranged for wheelchairs, but both had refused. They were still capable of moving under their own power, and they were determined to do so. Instead, they sat patiently on the plane waiting for everyone else to get off before carefully picking their way down the isle on crutches. Emerging from the jetway, Jim first and K9 right behind him, the small crowd parted silently to reveal a small formation of veterans who rendered a salute. Jim balanced his weight on his remaining foot and returned the salute without saying anything. He hadn’t … Read the rest

Satan’s Laugh – Part 4: Rehab

Previous – Satan’s Laugh Part 3: First Steps Home

The nightmares had returned as the sedation was tapered. They had morphed too. Now it was Sammie and Leslie who were being tortured or killed. And now that he wasn’t the focus anymore, he didn’t wake up at the climax, but continued dreaming until the horrifying image of his wife or daughter’s corps shook him awake. Sometimes the bad-guy took the shape of a rotund drunk Navajo who cackled mercilessly over their dead bodies, smearing their blood on his own face like war paint.

Jim had come to fear sleep, and … Read the rest

Meditation

Clear and open my mind I'm told
But nature abhors a vacuum
It refills faster than I can empty
Flitting from thought to thought
As I banish them one by one

Grab a meditative thought
A gurgling stream to fill the void
But it won't remain without effort
So I fill in the cracks and crevices
With thoughts that defeat the purpose

Meditation is deliberate boredom
I don't know how to do that...
I seemingly never really can
Shut my mind to constant work
Without falling asleep