Taking what life throws at me one pitch at a time
🎼
Every time I bake
Every move I shake
Every step I make
Every walk I take
I'll be limping badly
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Some decades better
Some decades later
Every painful patter
Every other step matter
I'll be limping badly
🎵
That's the walk I've walked
Forty five years now
Looking for the next place
To stream my consciousness
🎶
As long as I inhale
I shall continue to inspire
Inspiration
Hold on to the aspire
To soak in the
Aspiration
Living with the knowledge
That my unreasonable
Expectations
Have often led me
Down the path
Of irrational
Exuberance
As long as I can
Stay immune from efforts
To yuck my yum
Until I expire
Expiration
On my last exhale
My current yearly aspiration is to write a ….
Be there in a
Just a
Wait a
In a
Gotta a
Be back in a
Second
A primary lie
To the penultimate lie
It'll only take a
Minute
That's why my preferred unit of time is
Shakes of a lamb's tale
Oh, you mean that time. Not to be confused with this time, out of time, Miller Time, or Hammer Time. Not to mention Morris Day and The Time.
It was a different time
So excuse me while I take this time to do the ramble. I miss the arbitrary reckoning of big hand is here and the little hand is there; as opposed to the empiricism of the digital display. Or the solidity of everything happening everywhere all at once hypothesis. Times arrow. Time slip. How many times has this happened before. Déjà-vu all over. So many hypotheses, so little time. Or too much time? Time is what you make of it. If you spend that much time counting, or making time, it may leave too little time for anything else.
Do you remember the past?
Do you remember the future?
Forget it!
But there is always time for Pink. But which one is Pink this time.
Time for me to give my brain a time out.
P.S. as a child my mother would talk about punching out of work. I imagined a first fight everyday at the time clock to leave the factory. 🕓
Caught in a web of vendetta;
The fly knew more struggle.
More enwrapped.
This sort of spider wanted one recourse.
His narcissistic reflexology squeezed this way.
More dough for him and his.
Less for you and yours.
“Stay cool.”
Said the spider with a wheeze.
“It’s for your own good.”
the anatomy
of an anomaly chops
reality norms
to tiny pieces spread out
on life's charcuterie board
It has been
My experience
When the people
That own the straws
Make us all
Draw straws
Everybody draws
The short straw
Except for them
That will be the way
Until the final straw
Is drawn.
🎶
I'm called Little Dilettante
Dear Digital Dilettante
Though I could never tell why
But still I'm so dilatory
In social media purgatory
Stream of consciousness blogger am I
I've haikus for Mondays
And tankas for Tuesdays
From prompts kind people provide
I post them in mornings
To shake up my wake up
Then on with my daily survive
🎶
For her “Can You Tell a Story In…” prompt today, Esther Chilton has challenged us to tell a 40-word story using the words curl, potion, robin, unicycle, and bombast.
With reckless bombast, Robin rides a motorized unicycle. Crashing into a bowl to join a birdie bathing bacchanal, which Robin hadn’t been invited to. A party where illicit potions were being served that would curl their little dirty birdy feet.
A Scroll Threw Life 