Taking what life throws at me one pitch at a time
Considering how long life has been scuttling around on this heap of magma, lava, smegma, and other solidified forms of said substances: I need to know after which flood do you inquire. So I wrote this tanka instead.
Misunderstood bugs
Antediluvian ants
And what they hath wrought
Things my Uncle George did with
My Auntie Diluvian
From flood plain to astral plane, trying to keep my head above water.
Just like ant
🐜🐜🐜🐜🐜
afternoon stroll then
cabin repose succumbed to
proffered lily
Resources soiled
Bottled water and canned food
Air will be sold soon
Melancholia
Wafts over me
Scant evidence found
Searching the library
Fills me with
Vellichor
For my long lost
Manticor
I got a boulder
On my shoulder trying to crush
Me as I moulder
It's what I can do
As I try to mitigate
Sorrows of the world
I got a boulder
On my shoulder trying to crush
Me as I moulder
It's what I can do
As I try to mitigate
Sorrows of the world
Today I am radiating all that I have done leading up to today. In that way I can dissipate the cumulative and pent up vapors of the past to leave me cool and ready to receive the heat build up from the friction of entering another day.
the poll for the day
asked, "Do people care about
other's opinions?"
Behaving selcouth
Is so last century lad
Cut straight to uncouth
Hawk Skylark's selcouth
mood made the castle wenches
scramble for cover
Talked with an old friend
About species return to
Our sprawling city
As children there was
Few fauna to be found here
Not forest preserve
Not in our nearby
Neglected river and park
Just pigeons and carp
No longer the case
Deer, bass, and herons. Oh my
In friendly confines
Today on the El
After our talk I saw what
First seemed a pigeon
Perched on train platform
Until I saw the profile
Predator. Beak. Eyes.
Large red brown feathers
Plume and talons on display
Avian hunter
Urban red-tailed hawk
Scanning for her next repast
No pigeon is she
Her conspicuous instance
Went a long way to activating my agency
Making the world dirtier, meaner, and less safe
With every moment he soils that once prestigious office
Meanwhile
I couldn’t resist posting one of my favorite tunes for this prompt
Living on the fuzzy boundary of could've, should've, and would've.
I'm over my head
Taken the plunge and let go
Awash in living
tabula rasa
rebounding round my noggin
echolalia
peel the onion skin
lay bare layer by layer
hot tears tear my eyes
Do I sculpt karma
Or is it in DNA
Raven knows for sure
long blond animal
melody of our motion
to a band she loved
Biscuit the raven
frisky frolic memories
of my long blond muse
my older siblings
by nearly a decade would
taunt without mercy
using a made up slur which
would send me into a tantrum
It's meaning unknown
by all of us, even them
still wounded me deep
then parental discipline
ended their bullying glee
but they scribbled it
all over the basement walls
now etched in my soul
I'm forever an "oottsie"
whatever that may mean
scarred for life you say
perhaps, but I have my doubts
even a made up word
an "oottsie" I may be but
nobody likes a whiner
Out of my past block
I sculpt a possible me
Oh what shall I be
As the closing act on a sea
Of floating possibilities
Passion tsunami opportunities
When me and you were a we
Waning hormonal machinations
Eleventh hour oscillations
Karma brought us together
In the nick of time
Just under the wire
Our epic encores set us free
Want my nirvana
Seems like a nice place to be
Sounds just right for me
Oops. By wanting Nirvana
I missed the mark once again
Group decisions made
With the short straw draw method
Reality's brief
feel obligated
to oblige others feelings
but only so far
many considerations
easy to make a faux pas
Phrazez that Payzez
"Better you than me
The evil this world runs on"
The Antidote by Karen Russell
Very special moment and privilege to be able to think back on what I was doing a half century ago. Light on details but I sure remember the vibe.
If only I had Google Calendar back then .
I never forget to participate joyfully in the sorrows of the world
The Trader Joe’s parking lot bench with long ago May flowers
I opened my eyes
There were two shoes on the step
Put on my shoes
Went to work
There were no shoes on the step
After the accident
For many mornings
I opened my eyes
Put on my shoe
Took my crutches
Went to work
There was one shoe on the step
Everythings withered
For no additional gain
Long cold nights ahead
letting the day gain
purchase on my attention
as dreams slink away
Only my inner thoughts to watch
As I swaddle into an evening swatch
Although I may be bone dead tired
Dawns on withering conscious frame
With nothing to lose and all to gain
Additional input may be required
A frog on a log
Obsessed on a midair fly
Ribbit Ribbit (slurp)
A Scroll Threw Life 