Taking what life throws at me one pitch at a time
tiny dust bunnies
under my bed bred into
one big dust devil
A little contemplation never hurt anyone.
Sure.
Go ahead.
Be contemplative.
Think before you move.
Look before you leap.
Stick your little toe in before you dive in.
Overthink.
Second guess.
Doublethink.
Double down
Third down
Fourth and long.
Monday morning quarterback.
Enough contemplating.
Now do something
Even if it’s wrong
Doing is better than not doing anything
Or is it?
Let me think about that for a while.
atop my mesa
working the crowd in my head
theatre in the round
After a decade and a half of performing out in the wilderness, I finally dragged myself off the rocky mesa stage. I had distanced myself from the urban delights of big city life to perform at suburbia’s theatre in the round. All in service of another’s dreams; only to find those dreams were not their dreams either. That was quite the emotional cul-de-sac indeed. Acting within the proscenium provided by the urban streets brought focus to the dysfunctional script being followed, so together we took our final bow. Flipping the script. Freeing us up to chase down another booking.
Hello everyone! The prompt for today, 17th August 2024, is “cul-de-sac”. Write a post including the prompt and share with us via pingback or leave the link in comments section. Happy Saturday! Punam
RDP SATURDAY: Cul-de-sac
Do I remember the past?
Much of the past I think I remember has been told and retold and written and filmed and televised and reworked to put forth an agenda. Mistranslations, both malicious and innocent errors, misrepresentations due to the transience of human perception, and the ability to represent it using common though imperfect languages , leading to more mistranslations and misunderstandings;usually put forth by people that are certain they know better than anyone else. The past I do remember while I was paying attention was also delivered by institutions with an agenda, but I have personally witnessed a thing or two leaving me to make up my mind with the understanding that I know what I know until I know something different.
Do I remember the future?
Well that hasn’t happened yet. Or has it?
What I do remember is futuristic prognostications of things to come. What might be, what could be, and what should be. Some have actually come to pass, or at least reasonable facsimiles of them. I am fortunate to have lived long enough to witness things that seemed quite futuristic and wondrous in their time quickly passed into obscure obsolescence only to become humorous internet memes. But still most of those futuristic things were indeed stepping stones to the marvels of our present day. Yet many of those futuristic ambitions have been left on the ever growing trash heap of history.
As for now, I think Charles Dickens wrote it best
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times
I wonder how that translates into other languages. Perhaps, everything is okay until it isn’t.
In the meantime, remember
Green-stone, Go. Red-stone
Stop. Yellow-stone. Slow. Every
body must get stoned
The word for today is Futuristic! Flying cars? Androids that look and (good god no) act like humans? Travel to distant worlds? Or here on Earth, maybe, peace and ecosystems in balance? Photos, Artwork, Poetry, Short Story… Then link to this page. Please tag your post “RDP” and “Ragtag Daily Prompt”. Finally, don’t forget to […]
RDP Friday! Futuristic!
Kindling of A.I. origin
Falsehoods flame the main
Fan with boughs of balderdash
Smoke blinds a cache of cash
Murky waters mottle and schmooze
Senseless seekers still abuse
No amount of abluent cleanse
Will wash the historical lens
Cause where there is confusion
Money will be made in profusion
trickle to drizzle
downpour to monsoon gushed down
twixt lush fertile swale
Happy Monday!! The prompt for today is FAN. Create a post using this prompt. Photos, Artwork, Poetry, Short Story…the options are limitless and then link to this page. Please tag your post “RDP” and “Ragtag Daily Prompt”. Finally, don’t forget to read all the other wonderful posts. Need help with the pingback? You can find […]
RDP Monday: FAN
talk to text keeps us
talking not typing staving
off wind deficit .
When everything brings joy
Nothing does
When nothing brings joy
Everything does
I’m beginning to realize I enjoy contradictions. How realize and realise are the same word, just different spellings. Oh, what a slap in the face to the spell correctors of the world. Oh, what joy I found in how many times I had to correct the spell correct to get it to realise that I typed what I typed because I meant what I typed.
Very happy Sunday and the Ragtag Daily Prompt is realize. Sol Duc came to a realization this morning. She realized that the buildings around us are houses and that different people and pets live in each one. Why do I think that? She went up the walkway to our neighbor’s house and sniffed all around. […]
RDP Sunday: realize
Something I heard in
Grammar School still sticks in my
brain. "That'll learn ya."
Hardly Socratic
Often idiosyncratic
Sometimes bureaucratic
Can be dramatic
To overblown panic
Then in full tilt manic
Confused as Satanic
With a hint of tannic
Just erie Shamanic
No need to get frantic
Busboy asks patron,
"How long have the Olympic
Games been going on."
I reply uninvited
Two thousand five hundred years
A few chuckles from
the room. Then busboy says ,"I'm
sorry ma'am, what were
you saying?" My dates may be
off ,but I crack myself up.
The word for today is Dialogue. We need to talk. (haha) Photos, Artwork, Poetry, Short Story… Then link to this page. Please tag your post “RDP” and “Ragtag Daily Prompt”. Finally, don’t forget to read all the other wonderful posts. Need help with the pingback? You can find the instructions on the Ragtag Community About page.
RDP Friday! Dialogue!
Monday morning meaning has gone through many permutations through my days. From hope to dread. Trepidation to turpitude. Triumph to terror. Always a turning point highlighted by a calendar infused post industrial revolution angst about gain and loss, productivity and projections. The get some ethos of our time.
No longer just another day of existence, it was a morning where I stepped back into the world of commerce and played the role I had chosen, or was chosen for me, out of necessity to earn my daily bread by hook or by crook; as was glorified on the entertainment platforms and corporate shill magical moments; to make me want what I had been shown to really really need to be happy.
Yes, and I helped. Daily blur, became weekly blur, folding into yearly blur, cascading down through decades of blur. Just make it through another day so I could make it stop.
The good blur. The productivity blur. The compensated blur. The blurry blur.
Then I got a new role and worked evenings and weekends. Friday afternoon became my Monday morning, with all the same alchemical needs. Only later in the day, and frankly with much less stress. It was just a job and no longer a career. I could cruise on through the five day cattywampus week, with only daily task mapping to keep my steps to a minimum, and as a result, the pain to a minimum.
Now, with those calendar deadline days behind me, and aging into the time of life that medical care could not bankrupt me; I have distilled Mondays down to their essence into this haiku.
Sort
Monday morning sort.
What to do? What to read? What
to post on my feed?
Amen
So I’m sitting at my desk which is nowhere near as nice a desk as the RDP prompt desk picture, and with nowhere as nice a view as the said desk has. Instead I will regale my RDP friends with the stale crusts of my week of #haikufeels prompts instead.
SECRETE
watch the vile bile
ooze out that a nation tried
to secrete away
COMB
Comb over? Not me.
Back of head solar panel
keeps me charged all day
HOPE
I have lots of hope
The cynic in me says nope
My hope on a rope
ARCH
time to wake up now
arch my back, reach for the sky
the good morning stretch
ROLL
let the hype roll on
foolish twaddle cash spew, no
hobgoblin minds changed
FUSE
Never confuse a
fuse with a circuit breaker.
Result would shock you.
JOURNAL
my journal entry
was this; "pulling the bestial
towards the celestial"
I realize
I have to reconcile
all the bounced emotional checks
that are stacked up
in my past
like planes
making a final approach
to O'Hare airport
on a holiday
having landed
I meander through
my conscious concourse to
where they have been placed
on my baggage to-do list carousel
to circulate around procrastinations drain
till the last possible moment
as overdraft fees take their toll
on my psyche
An absence can be
Painful Scarring Horrendous
Or very welcomed
I sometimes plug my haikus into this graphic engine to see just what it makes of my words and to give me insight into the world we are making aided by A. I. output. The results can go from sublime to horrifying. When I plugged this haiku into the engine it produced such disturbing results I chose not to subject the world to this A. I.’s algorithmic nightmares. After four batches of nine results it finally gave me this one, in my opinion, usable option. The first set was produced by entering a more user friendly woo woo trope, but even that put some A. I. darkness on display.
me
I also sometimes wonder how my words are skewing the data set.
