Taking what life throws at me one pitch at a time
when we all try to
dance to a different tune
it’s best to spread out
Holly Roller was
disco inferno hot that
night on the dance floor
Every single day
M.A.A.A. works overtime
To Make America Ashamed Again
Melting of sense into nonsense
Messenger for the burning agony. The Red Book
Bees fueled by pollen
Transform nectar to honey
Oatmeal sweetener
more a rictus grin
than a smile when Congress makes
laws they do not read
Better to transcend.
A cherished life of chaos
Than to rewind it
popping p's
with each rant pant
thick mike screen
couldn't stop
each pent up pop
from booming
out the loud speaker
after a pint or three
went to the river
to take a punt
to a temp pont
to get across for
elocution lessons
Went out for a pint
Back to mine for a nice pant
Sweet pent up release
With a satisfying punt
Over a pont to a dream
Swaddled in cheap grace
Faux pious Senator shills
Her tooth fairy brand
a friend knows when two
bee there when they need two bee
and when not two bee
perpetuating
the mix up that messed us up
most egregiously
damn a waterfall
feed the patch work quilt of our
hungry power grid
adding to A.I.
mix misanthropic haiku
hoopla just for kicks
add misanthropic
haiku hoopla hijinks to
a.i. mix for kicks
Zero sum algorithm
Antisocial media
Syncopated holy hymn
Full frenzied feedia
Up on the down beat
Upbeat down with resolve
Lost in the repeat
Off center reality dissolve
Freaky Friday show finality
Still looking for #sum-one
To wrap up with banality
While just having some fun
Seems when I uplift
Reality windshear sends
A tailspin tomb tome
via Faceless
People are only faceless if you don’t bother to look them in the face. Nor do you need a Facebook page to have a face.
Face it
Finally I had a conversation with myself. I decided to confirm my reservation to give myself a real treat this week. I think I am on the verge of having a viable life once again. Although I am generally allergic to social intercourse, there are times that I look back with a winsome eye for days past. I know I can funnel my knowledge of winning some and losing some and no longer be forlorn for those chances that have slipped away. The brilliant light of epiphany that I see undulate before my eyes shows me a way to carve through the coming adversity. While once upon a time this prospect would evoke a certain amount of dread within my soul, sending me into a more static wait and see stance, today I will entertain a more joyous embrace of my fate and study the life enriching opportunities that such a loophole in my planned path has afforded my life to experience. This agile mind and resolve might shock those who thought of me as a more dull and resolute sort. Perhaps even make them blink a few times to view me reborn. So though I scan time’s horizon, I formulate no set strategy. I must be candid and admit to the universe that I am indeed late again on each and every one of these prompts. But I am glad I was able to …
Number one son was an aficionado of the Original.
Woe be unto him who tried to foist any New items on him. Perish the thought of Improved items as well. Same for Deluxe. Limited begone. Nope. He wanted the Original.
He was the purist goalie in the family. Try to get anything past him that was not what he considered original, from BBQ sauce to Kraft Italian salad dressing, and the howls could be heard to the Original high heavens.
Anything other than cheese and meat on a burger was grounds to ban that McDonald’s from his Original list. With an added Original pox upon the hapless server who served it up in such an Unoriginal fashion to him.
He was indeed the embodiment of the Original Sin.
He was a terrible consumer in training and the nightmare of all fiduciaries of our growth fetishistic enterprises and nation.
But after years in front of the television soaking in commercials, online Ad culture, and peer pressure he came around as all good potential productivity pods do. Now number one son wants everything new and improved in the world you can possibly imagine.
But since he is one of the Original Millennials he may be too late since the Original promise of trickle down has already been lapped up, swallowed , and sent elsewhere.
Maybe someone has an Original idea to solve this.
I haven’t heard it.
I have observed a lot of very Unoriginal silliness in between the TV commercials, Ad Banners, and pop up ads however.
So I hope he still only wants cheese and meat on his burger.
After all , it’s the Original.
Flattery will get you everywhere.
Flattery will get you nowhere
When you receive praise from a sycophant is it flattery or is merely living up to the job description?
You know.
Because you are so clever. Yes you are.
Who so clever?
You so clever.
Now can I get a LIKE?
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/flattery/
Please
I do. I do. I do
Especially when cooked over a charcoal fire. On a Weber. Propane just don’t make it.
But that is my mistake.
No not in the purchase of the propane grill. I only use it. But in choices I made decades before that caused me to end up eating steak rarely. Albeit for numerous economic, ecological, and personal health advise from the experts, textperts, and choking smokers.
Goo goo g’ joob g’ goo goo g’ joob
I’ll stop before further purloining, which would only lead to the inevitable resolution of, “I am the steak man….”
Oops I did it again. I misconstrued the one word Daily Prompt.
Oh no. I stole another song lyric. I hope this will not be mistaken for plagiarism.
Oops. My mistake again.
Oh if only crossroads were so simple. Right. Left. Forward. Or run home and hide under the blankets.
Then again there are intersections that occur, have occurred, are occurring, and will continue to occur in the eternity called now.
Kind of like this: *
Only with an infinite number of lines running through that single point we call now, continuing on into infinity and (for those of you that might be Buzzed) beyond.
So next time someone asks you to get the butter, just remember the options are endless. From explaining dietary implications of, as well as, the inevitable string theory of dairy products in general, oleo and the inherent sins of such marketing obfuscation and chicanery, reenactments from scenes in “Last Tango In Paris” aside, to the full inclusion of just acquiescing to their request in smug silence: try not to be what my pale imitation (as seen above *) of a Kurt Vonnegut illustration alludes to.
So just choose and know we are all just:
After all as my father advised when I was just a sprout, “Go do something even if it is wrong”
A Scroll Threw Life 