Can sift through the what-ifs, the could have beens, the should have dones, the turns not taken.
Here I sit, humiliated by failures, understanding that I am just another dandelion blowing away in the wind. Still, determined by some spark to make meaning and special-ness to my miserable existence. I have the same right to happiness as anyone else.
Slog, slog, slog along,
scraping enough coins together to pay the bills, scraping enough friends together to capture the echo of some magic camaraderie. Despite my strings being yanked by many powerful entities, I can resist the powerful jerks long enough to take in the view, exhale, and say, "wow. look at that."
Before the next yank forces my hand, as usual. So little power, so little time, so little...understanding of it all. It just is, and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. Frustrating.
Still, it was a pretty good weekend. That is the most anyone can ask for, to have a good time with friends, spontaneous, enjoyable moments. Transcendent moments. To be cherished for sure.
*yank* - sigh.
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
I made it in good time, and entered the trail,
pace steady and smooth.
What was that? A raindorp? Two? Three?
Many drops soon fell, a steady shower,
turning to a deluge at times.
I was stuck.
Too far to turn back;
take shade under trees somewhat,
press on ahead – maybe it will stop!
But alas, no such luck.
I made it up to the University overpass,
finally turning around to head back
the (now wet) way I came.
Getting more soaked by the minute,
What a perfect experience for an
eccentric middle-aged writer to enjoy.
Riding a bike in a summer rainstorm –
like a kid again. No matter –
Youth still lives inside me,
appreciates that exhilaration of
flying down a street soaking wet,
trailing water streams off bike tires,
clothing, pedals and even hair.
What watery summer joy,
to abandon all care and press on;
I see a
stream of car headlights coming,
do they see this apparition on wheels,
laughing and pedaling through sheets of gray?
How jealous they must be. Poor things.
Thank goodness I made it back without wiping out.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Caravans of campers caper about,
jockeying for the best spot around.
Livestock trailers sprout like weeds,
get herded into enclosures with ease.
Lots are roped off, and signs pop up.
“No parking during State Fair” or
“Park here - $5.00 all day.”
Two and four-wheeled vehicles swarm the area.
The noise, smells and excitement build to
a crazed crescendo of happy confusion.
Crowds come in and congregate in celebration
of animal excesses and caloric confabulations.
For ten days we can forget the toil and sweat,
uncertainty and concern, the numerous fears.
Spend, eat and play with no thoughts past today.
Another fair is here, don't be glum, yell Hooray!
And no other shoe will drop until it is over. Enjoy.
Sunday, August 09, 2015
Forgive me my trespasses,
as I forgive those of others.
Please keep me awake for the sermon,
not allow my gaze to stray to attractive parishioners.
Please help me pay my bills,
help my bladder hold firm,
keep my eyes on the road and my hands on the wheel.
Forgive me for verbally stepping on people,
protect me from their anger and retaliation.
Please change my personality, Lord,
to one palatable to everyone
so I can stop looking over my shoulder.
Take me away from here and put me
somewhere in the 24th century.
Make me artificial,
not an abomination...
Put me where life is near perfect, Lord,
so the litany of complaint in my head
will cease, and perhaps I can finally,
relax and be happy and at peace.
(tongue firmly in cheek)
Monday, August 03, 2015
Silly little flea,
why are you riding on me?
You can fly free,
how errant can you be?
Once I thought myself free,
now I'm but a beast of burden;
providing transport for a flea,
know I'm slow, beg your pardon.
Soon I tire of this little game,
swat the interloper with my hand.
Not very true was my aim,
now it circles round, makes to land.
Quick I slam the fridge with backhand!
Killed the bugger, life is grand!
(Ow, I hurt my hand.)
Sunday, August 02, 2015
Give them a look-see. Thanks!
Experimental Tales www.createspace.com/4973862
The Osmotics www.createspace.com/4661301
Mirror Worlds www.createspace.com/3633147
A Strange Enterprise www.createspace.com/4281639
Future Property www.createspace.com/3859469
Shadow Intersection www.createspace.com/4113022
“Hot down, summer in the city”
Goes a popular song.
Dog day heat oppresses;
time to cool down
take a dip in waters
blue or brown,
river or aquatic center.
In big towns and small the pools are full.
Short sleeves, tops down,
Motorcycles and bicycles explode
onto city roads.
People are out, everywhere.
Sweat, heat, sun and sizzle;
what we long for in winter,
we begin to despise by late summer.
But we endure, and our reward comes.
Refreshing fall cool spells
spoil us all again and we are
ill-prepared as usual
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Apparently there was some kind of ruling by the European Union. So here is my semi-official notice to any readers across the oceans: Google and Google Analytics may place cookies on your computers. If you wish,you can certainly go to your Cookies folder and delete these after reading this or other blogs. There should be some kind of official Google notice on this matter as well. But this is a simple, mainly textual blog. Any cookies would probably be related to ad-tracking. Again, try and locate the "Cookies" folder on your particular computer and delete them if you do not want these on your machine. Thank you.
To progress, we must regress.
Drop back to simpler technologies.
Backwards is the new forwards.
We here in the US get it –
if only the other 90+ percent
of Earth's people
would get the same 'clue.'
Here is hoping they do,
and we keep getting it too.