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 then  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 !

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.

Aint that Special


I know that I am special because there are hundreds of thousands of stars in the skies and a few of them are mine. Now do not get me wrong I did not “make” them and hang them in their respective spaces and I certainly did not purchase them in either a big box store or on the ‘net. They simply appeared to me on deep dark nights when the emotions of life overcame me and I called out for someone to hear. They appeared in the evening as the sun settled down as if to look in on me before I drifted off into slumber. They announced themselves by finding cracks and shined their light around the curtains of my mind and brought with them a sense of warmth and concern and peace. I know that I am special because somewhere along the line, I was gifted the ability to see them and recognize them for what they were! Mine, especially mine. Heartfelt thanks for all my Stars.

Happy holidays !


I really do not know if this is the proper season for this discussion but it is on my mind ; so before I forget about it, I open with [ “our baser sensibilities ” ] !

Humans will try to breath anything .  If you do not believe this, just try not to !

We will try to drink anything ! If one does not think so, one should look around in the bars, in the fields, in the homes, in our cars. I do not say this bodes well for the human race.

People have tried to eat every substance on Earth ! and probably a few things from beyond !  How else would we know what poisons our system?

EVERY body thinks about sex. Even when the chaste deny, when the bohemian acts, when the ignorant wonder, when the school children experiment, with or without shame; in the oceans, skies, caves,cars,houses hotels and barns, people think, wonder, dream, philosophise and talk about it. There is no escaping the world without having had some sort of thought, misgiving, aspiration or repulsion, reaction or proaction to sex! So that having been said, I am back off to bed and try to recover my dreams.  Good night !

from the tip of my tongue


yes my dear i can hear, yes i will for as long as i am this i can promise you for as long as life lives and lovers give this i can promise you

of course i can see why do you ask and of course i will for as long as i am asked and that i promise you

is that your hand, yes i thought so, feel alright  why yes you should know that i can promise you and it will last for as long as you ask, every one feels and that much i can promise you

the taste of honeydew and the love on your lips why should i not be able to savor the flavor of love from now until the ends of the earth, it is certain this i do promise you

the scent buried in my mind of honeysuckle and sunshine is embedded deep in side what is that you cant think that i could not yes the promise remains

follow yes do not tarry rather hurry the light is growing dim and your voice seems mute though the promise is given the smell of love and the sweet taste of us  why the bitter hurry now i promised you are you coming where are you  come on now i promised

 

threehundredandsixtyfivedaysandsomehours


I have carried with me for the past few days a feeling that I was forgetting something.  I have been checking my pockets, Searching through my pickup, Looking in my drawers, [ My dresser drawers ! ], etc.  Today I realized that one year ago I dreamed up a name, filed a password and wrote my very first blog.

One year in the life of a man is a very short time so making a big deal of such a minor event seems to me a bit pretentious. So why is it that as I write these words, right now , my eyes well with tears and all the memories of the blogs, and the feedback and the sharing, overwhelm my senses ?

Could it be that the folks who have read me, communicated with me, disagreed with me and smiled with me are really REAL people ?

Thank you all from the depths of my very soul for inviting me and my ideas into your den. I refer to the blog as my den for here I am free to acknowledge my every whim, to vent my every frustration, to match hearts with some of the most giving REAL souls I have ever had the pleasure to meet.

Fellow READERS, and I say this because anyone who writes must therefore read, Thank you all for sharing your feelings, thoughts , fears and celebrations with me ! I am a better person for having met you all .

BTW    I do not intend to go anywhere that I cannot climb into the ‘net, so You will all have to put up with me for the forseeable future. [or not] Damned philosophy!

 

Happy holidays


I find myself looking forward to the coming holiday season with fantastic expectations demurred by the experience of experience. [ I only wrote that bit because I could. Poetic license is really cool ! ] Really, I sense a sort of gathering of the human spirit I have not before experienced, a sort of grasping for straws, but with the realization that the straws are within reach. Could it be that the monstrous acts around the world of late have succeeded in accomplishing a goal always dreamed of , but never reached in the memory of mankind; a simple united front against the powers that strive to tear societies apart in search of their own malicious goals?

I do strive to be a poet of sorts, a philosopher of a kind, if you will, and I think I am generally the eternal optimist over the long haul. [ though that bit of me MAY have been overshadowed by my anger as witnessed in some of my more recent posts ] So, what do I perceive the holidays to bring?

More atrocities and crimes against human kind, tempered with a continuing groundswell of people, determined to live lives, solidified in their inherent strength and abilities to overcome any forces intent on ruining the lives of the many in favor of the “privileged ” few , and a warm breeze of comfort and solidarity once the tempest is past. [ All right, perhaps not THESE particular holidays, but relatively quickly inasmuch as the world remains a very large place]

Patience IS a virtue, but the consensus may be that the time for patience is waning, and the time for the peace loving folk of the world to stand and be counted is drawing near.  May the holidays bring peace to the peace loving peoples and strife to those who wish to witness only division .

May God bless us all !   [Not just a few!]

A bit of imagination


The filtered sunshine dropped around like raindrops falling to the ground while the leafy canopy high above, waved hellos to those far down below and breeze blown willowy boughs shifted the buds toward and fro, breaking the light into glowing dots that seemed to rain onto the forest floor.

I searched all through that wonderful day, wandering past leviathans of stalwart oaks, wading bubbling streams so aching feet could soak and not hinder my passing while looking for, I knew not what; though I understood recognition would come to me when perchance the object sought would reveal itself.

Evening fell like a velvety curtain over the transforming sky while the crescent moon and glittering stars took their place against the background of deep dark space and made my shivering soul feel a little bit less alone. Plodding along and taking the trek slow, reserving my energy cause  my destination clearly still was not known.

Just before dawn-break , after clambering down a rock strewn fall , by the gathering pool of clear, chilly streams a magnificent, paint horse idled by on the gravel edge, looking more out of place than even I felt. The muted snort and muffled whinny as I softly approached told me that the equine majesty did not mind my stopping or company.

After drinking full of champagne from the mountain lake, with giddy feet and light headed gait my wandering led me away from the hills till the forest I left behind. The coarse, green grass spread before me then and time stretched her arms so that I could not recall when the mounted patrol crossed over a hill and shouting stampeded straight into my path and the thought suddenly occurred to me that my lengthy journey would soon be past..

So running now, desperation eating my mind, and the sedges pulling at my legs while I tried to race away from my persuers, the time seemingly slowed for me but not them, and near I was to passing cold out when I heard from behind a victorious shout and I fell to the ground and looked around, expecting my doom. I saw the horsemen roping the steed of the stream. Unbeknownst to me a follower he was and the riders retrieved their property.

Foolishness flushed my hot, reddened face, so to escape the feeling I began to race, nay fly,across the verdant prairie, seeking now nothing but space and wind in my hair and a feyness lingered in the crisp morning air. Then the well opened beneath my shoes and forward pace turned into a deep dark place.

Falling took forever it seemed with the time now playing tricks on my sanity, and when by chance I could look up to the rim from which I had fallen, the sun faded from before my very eyes and the moon peered down into the shaft and followed me with a splintering laugh, so I turned away and saw below licking flames crawling the side of the hole, and screaming full throated I was when I woke in my bed;sweating, trembling and hot.

Weakly peering about the room, I quickly assayed my situation was quite normal with my wife and our dog sleeping deeply in the evening gloom. I grabbed up my robe, then poured a stiff drink and stepped out he door so that I could clear my mind and think of how silly it seemed to feel such a dream, and finally smiling I turned back to my house but in the corner of my weary eye; by the pond near the shadows stood a magnificent, paint horse!

My Room


My room of lifes’ floor lay covered in carpet and rugs scattered

Whole and tattered, yet soaking the warmth from the door,

Where I stand looking out to the street,

Hoping for friends, or wishing strangers to meet!

My entranceway respects all who enter my place,

Till I determine how much humaness they wear on their faces.

Walls covered in drapes and highlighted by hangings greet all the souls,

And soak up the heat radiated from warm, caring folks.

I bask in the glow of the smiles and the laughter

Left after, the people have gone back to from whereever they came.

The couches recall long, all the pleasant repose

And comfort I glean when I recline back on the pillows,

While gazing to the rafters and roof made of leather

Below where soft cobwebs catch dust rattled down by evenings thunder.

My cozy hiding nest though can get very cold

If the draughts brought in by frigid , hard feeling asses

Cannot be warmed by the candles left by the masses.

So, no matter what my overall vision,

I stand at the door guarding my comfort, my warm, glowing prison!