Always
Always for the correct candidate
Always for the correct referendum position
✔️
Tag: prompts
Puerile Diffusion
Adrift in a maze
Color chaos confusion
Sensation overload
Input puerile diffusion
Perception palpation
Dewey Decimal suffusion
Helping to decrease the daze
Yet never ceasing to amaze
Hoi Polloi
Fond memories of past Easter celebrations with my family, grandma, aunties, uncles, cousins, and neighbors. Entertained in the palatial family home that was built by my carpenter grandpa, who had long passed away by the time of my debut on the family stage. Guests greeted in the foyer which emptied into the parlour, which led to the dining room.
All very posh sounding. The foyer barely big enough to hold a freestanding coat rack which could hold four coats with proper weight distribution. If the front door was open…fugetaboutit. The parlour held a red sofa and two big mismatched chairs. One green. One brown. A round picture tube television in dark brown hard wood cabinet took up the rest of the available footprint. The dining room was packed with a floor standing radio with equally impressive wood cabinetry and a sewing machine in a cabinet built by my cabinetmaker great grandfather. When the table extension leaves were in; the squeeze around the table was tight for the typical middle age bulk of the era. Everyone packed in. Crowd spillage to TV trays in the parlour Teenagers at the kitchen table post preparation pandamonium. Children my age banished to card tables on the enclosed yet still chilly back porch. Talk about a full house. Oh yes, I forgot the salon, which was really the parlour after the feast concluded with it’s inevitable boisterous political crosstalk. Yikes!
Deluxe middle-class living in 1960 U.S.A. It was all in what you named the rooms. So instead of a front closet, front room, and fancy eating room; we had a foyer, parlour / salon, and dining room. Who could ask for more. That’s not even flaunting the carriage house where my grandmother resided.
Fakin’ It
As a pretender to many things and a product of a misspent youth; Achievement brought to mind a song that I and my garageband friends would play, much to the chagrin of anybody within earshot. Believe me that covered a lot of territory .
Fake it til you make it. A fine mantra. I learned many things playing in that band that served me well in my future achievements. But pretending to be a musician would not continue to be one of those endeavors.
So even covering such quality material, the real achievement was that we all eventually went our own way.
Mr D
Each daily revelation
Makes it abundantly clear
Evil is the root of all money
Racketeer pockets fill with prophets
Beckoning cannon fodder curtain call
To take a bow on the world stage
After dreadful dance with Mr. D
Spools
Only when they believe in me
Next
Daily writing prompt
Describe a phase in life that was difficult to say goodbye to.
Not a single one. Always looked forward to what came next; whatever that may be.
Whistling
Overwrought ambition
Battles fought
Battles won
Battles that need to be refought
Odds on favorite
Powers balanced
Daring unbalance
Until tipping points tipped
Red lines crisscrossing
Mutually assured destruction
Whistling past the symmetry
All my live long days
D.I.Yourself
Myself.
Seems that self help scaffolding has been up for as long as I remember.
Bump
Rubber Humbug Fairy Bumper
Seeing as that was the intriguing heading on the email sent to me from an unknown email address; I had to ask myself…
“Self, is this spam or an ad for illegal subversive pixie dust?”
“Or just a poorly executed tongue twister?”
A Scroll Threw Life 