Thursday, January 12, 2017
Friday, December 30, 2016
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Sometimes you just want to stick the perverbial pencil into your neck
Right into the coratid artery and let out all of the pressure that has been building up
Let the floodgates open to dance across the walls and the floor
Because it's been a really rough day
Because the wife said something that will stick forever bobbing up to the surface at inopportune moments.
Because the kids..
No, you must never include the children when contemplating your own weakness and failures
But the unfortunate thing about the perverbial pencil is that there are no do-overs
No pause button
No chance to rewind
There is no one to say, "hey look at what all of this might lead to. Let's maybe hold back a bit."
There is none of that.
There are no second chances here.
There are no rematches
Which is maybe why the perverbial pencil is nothing more than a warm up
Maybe that is why seldom is the skin ever pierced
Seldom does the blade dig into the wrists
Seldom does the trigger release the bullet
Because perverbial is a dress rehearsal
And the real thing tends to happen only once.
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
When choosing present I have a full proof plan strategy. I just think about what I might actually want you know things that interest me and then I'll try to understand why I want those things very simple you know now comes the hard part understanding that I am not the average person and that there are very few people like me. Therefore since so few people share my interest and my light and my dislikes I simply need to buy them the opposite of what I might want. This, of course, is not a foolproof strategy. There are people who do like beer and liquor and books. I know, because I work with someone. I also drink with some of them. Unfortunately those are generally not the people who I need to buy bread. Therefore, I just think of what makes me the most uncomfortable and then realize that someone else probably thinks that that would make a fabulous gift.
Saturday, October 22, 2016
Saturday, September 24, 2016
Tuesday, August 23, 2016
You may gently scoop me up into your arms
caressing my face
wiping the dust of sleep from my eyes
And I will turn slowly your face
warming mine like
the sun warms the earth each morning
your words will drift over me like
an early morning breeze moving up the sand
down the street
block by block
your heart will beat with mine
as we prepare to step together into the day