When its time to relax…


From the port in my refrigerator door

The tiny particles of Ice shower my wrist

and the hairs tingle upright in their pores

And the cubes fall in with a tinkling sound

And fill the mason jar up and then mounds

To the top thenĀ  the frost laden surface gives way

To the brown spiced rum sprinkled over,

The liquor polishes and smooths the icy cold cubes

And waits in the bottom for the shower

bubbling forth from the ginger ale spout

whose bubbles and froths carry the spirits

about in this one pint container full of

refreshing delight

Till the nose hovers over

nostrils tickled with CO2 dew

And the lips gather the rim

and suction the brew over watering

tongue and the mouth rejoices anew.

And a hearty chuckle breaks through

As the mood rises oer the days strife!

I hope I know when enough is enough !

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Please,be Careful


Far below where the common-folks go
Are basements and caverns and holes
Barred and chained at the top
Meant to keep prying eyes out
For the safety
of the wives and children

But curiosity kills the cat
So crafty minds pick and pry
Try to loosen chains
and unlock locks
And attempt to peek
behind the walls
That forbid the seeing.

When the maelstrom rises
And dismay abounds
When the dust has settled
And order resounds
The clear eyed sleuth
Can then clearly tell
The abyss was secured
From below, from hell.

Horizons


So, I am sitting around on a Saturday evening, bored as a gourd with nothing constructive to do, so I flip through some you tube videos and settle on watching season 14 Most Fun American Idol and find myself smiling to the point of crying and I wonder WTF is the matter with me.
Have you ever 24 ? Been so caught up in all the negative you have surrounded yourself with for the past year that you finally lost the ability to communicate in a positive manner ?
So,it is with a sense of relief bordering on foolishness and patheticism, and having discovered a newborn sense of wonder and amusement, I now have found a sense of direction and the remembered feeling of joviality necessary to help guide me back to,
personability, if you will.

Anyway, this bit made me feel a bit better, and a little bit better is definitely better than a bunch of bitter ! ; )

Start Over


Ahh, the stroke of the keypad feels rusty. The rhythym of the letters does not exist as a beat, a count, but rather as a rush and a rest, a starting and stopping.

My point of view has shifted so imperceptively but so very definitely, I suppose there should not be any wonder at the confusion that exists in my mind. I mean it IS still from behind the same eyes and from within the same mind I compose but with the emergence of a new facet built into wall of logic from whence the ideas flow it seems that the pull of the current steers the flow of the words onto and over the banks of the old stream of thought and begins cutting new channels that guide the impetus of expressed ideas and mores.

It really seems odd to me that the realization of what physical health means to the thinking being should change so much how that being expresses itself. Having come to that point I cannot deny what is so obviously true….I am not the same man I was two weeks ago. And that being said, even though my main thoughts and outlooks remain the same, enough variance exists that expressing those feelings is equal to revealing the thoughts of a comparative stranger.

When one declares from a platform familiar and steady the power of the words reflects the stability of the platform and when the platform exists in a state of flux the resolve of the words seems unsteady even to the hand that wields them.

Enough of self-revelation, for now it is enough to have restarted the engine and having goosed the throttle a little it is enough to have committed these few words to paper, it is enough to have acknowledged a new beginning.

Oh ! really?


Out the door I bounced ( and I do mean bounced ! )
For my ankle the night before had apparently been trounced
It was swollen up twice its normal girth
It fairly seemed ready a new foot to birth !

But this fact to the story is secondary
Fresh air was on my mind; now I would not tarry
So off the porch and onto the walk I fairly flew
(fairly flew because my windmilling crutches ; new

Generated enough lift for me to enter the wild blue)
Till I settled down and found my steady pace. Whew !
Ambulation with some degree of comfort I had found
When the color of money shined from its hiding spot on the ground !

Wheeling about on my planted brace
I stood looking tall over that presidential face
And my smile grew large as I imagined
All the bootie I’d buy with the executive ransom !

Quickly then I pinned the note to the grass
Lest the morning breeze carry my quarry away, alas!
And bent at the waist while reaching full out
And compressed air from my abdomen blew out with a shout

And my fingers clawed at the empty air,
I could not retrieve it; it just was not fair!
I composed myself for a moment then
And considered my next best option.

Across the way, walking up the street, a likely young kid
With his mother this morning, could surely aid me in my bid
If I could somehow grab his attention…
“Hey Mister, Whatchya doin over there ?” it seemed that now my mission

Could soon be done with the aid of my new accomplice
“Young man can you please come over here ? There is something we can accomplish.”
“Now I will raise the end of my crutch and before the wind tears away with the cash
You will have captured it in mid flight and we will have the last laugh !”

No fault in the plan could the young man see
I freed the bill and he made the grab look easy.
He jumped up with a grin and ran off to his mum calling
“Look what the “gennelmun” give me !”