Is It True?


And things have fallen and the pattern is made, Finally a chance to read the way. An all new language it is to me, Learning the lingo will be a challenge at least. Peacefulness and privacy, so hard to find, can at last be had ; I will soon figure out if it is what I need. So long ago ,memory barely serves, I believe I used to thrive. Questions asked no more, get behind the wheel and roar, not a soul sitting beside to tell me no more. With nothing left to prove, and nothing left to lose, For awhile again I can just be me!

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Feelin sorry


I stood and watched while the world burned. Thinking to myself the while, that Listening and Commenting, and attempting to assuage the pain inflicted upon the innocent, I was doing the best a man could do. I stood  and watched the world burn. Somehow, some way, something else it seemed I could do. Some profound statement I could utter perhaps to pull the good together.By reaching out to those who would hear, thinking to gain some insight, I found that while Many there are who communicate and raise voices that can be heard, too few I’m afraid versus those living in fear of retribution from profiteers, fanatics, and stubborn regimes possessing closed minds and preferring the status quo,while silencing the tongues of the meek and the mild, so still I stand and watch the world burn. Perhaps my impatience impairs my ability to see a light at the end of the tunnel, after all mortality remains the only thing we are given, and the life of one man is incredibly short in the course of history.  Yet, I cannot help but feel guilty, while standing here, just watching the world burning.

Moving on


I do not quite know where I am going again, but I know when I land all will achieve the balance we need. Change can be good, and it will be for me. There will be new horizons I have not seen.The new owners of this resort, you see, after four years common sense they could not see. City folk with a purse full of cash, just could not help showing their ass. I know they will put the blame on me, But trying to help them more I just cannot see. Ownership to them is the pride, caring for guests and the property was my pride. I kinda, sorta wish them well, then again I wish they would go straight to hell.Now I understand that comment was rough, but they do not really know what makes this place go, and I know when we are gone, they will see that it’s tough. Once I get where I am going I will be free of this place, that has taken all my time for over a decade. Like some prisoners I am told miss their former abode, and the regular pace that dictates ones life, I feel quite confident I will be sitting square in the middle of my saddle; I will be going somewhere!                Within the next week I will probably be off the “air” for a few days till I can get reconnected so to speak. Keep your eye on the screen. I will return!

What a Trip


All along the hallway that stretched until the horizon cut it out of view, the portraits hung beside the doors, against walls of a pasty hue. Slowly treading along that hall while viewing the images along the way, a pattern seemed to reveal to me, a plan behind it all. A twist here and there upon a doorknob or two, revealed nothing but an inclination toward privacy. Some semblance of sense the paintings now began to make. On one side of the extended hall most figures resembled me or others in my family, no pattern could be distinguished upon the opposing wall. Twenty years walking it seemed until the opposite images made sense being the mates chosen by family in the branches of the family tree. Doors began opening beneath the hand that plied the knob, and revealed a bit at a time, of times long gone but remembered still as stories in the family blog. Further away the end of the hall came slowly  into focus, and noticeable now  one could realize the unevenness of the doors, and peeks inside revealed strangers to me that blended into the other side, the features folding themselves into members indeed of my family! Happily now, the steps came quicker, peering behind the barriers became much more fun to see. Viewing the family of memories exciting now to remember. Then curiously, espied on the floor instead of hanging near a  door ; Closely I bent down and the photo was me, the trap door opened and I fell, screaming into eternity!

I TRIED


I think the ugly writers block finally slid  out of my way. The attempt for now to leap into the foray. Words battling for their place in line, Ideas lying to get out of my mind. Poetic license shall set me free, and help empty my aching head of excess inventory. Not being responsible for what flows out of the bursting dam holding everything in, nothing is not fair game. Such a bold start and the flames already burn low. Maybe bursting, indeed was too large a word; used early in this rhetorical theme, and while the dull ache my head still holds, eases as the minutes go by. That block in my head still ain’t gone away, so from that fiery start, I’m just going to bed anyway.