Tag Archives: short fiction

Born Blind

books and glasses

Born Blind

We’re all getting mucked down
and spun up, revolving planets
’round our problems, belivin’
that there’s never been enough
worry like what we’ve been tasting
of,

blind as the day we were born, we’re
deaf as fools to boot, turning cold
shoulders to the men who wrote about
just what we’re going through, and
actin’ as though our lives are
something that’s never been
done before.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Well, it’s the middle of the week and I thought that maybe we could all do ( me included) with a little advice. Think of this as an A is For Public Service Announcement, of sorts. It all happens to us, and I’m not immune to this. Something happens in our life and we get this funny lil’ idea in our heads that it is something so great or terrible that’s it’s never happened to anyone one before. Of course, upon having a little sense knocked back into our heads, we’d remember that it is just about impossible to find ourselves in a situation where another human being actually hasn’t been before.  So, especially for those times we find ourselves in trouble,  I kindly recommend rememberin’ that this has all been done before. Once you realize that, it’s easy to go and pick up a book on history, to see what people have done or, better yet, find yourself a nice book of philosophy and take some advice from Plato, Aristotle, or Seneca might just do you some good in the end.

Well, I’ll stop being long-winded now, and I hope you find your week is fast on the down slope, and that your weekend isn’t too hard to see on that horizon.

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Infinitesimals

man and his dog

Infinitesimals

It’s all those small things
you’ll never notice,
those courtesies commonly used,
it’s the ‘hello, how are ya’s,
and all those ‘how do you do’s,

it’s the smiles freely given
and the late evening nods
of the head, and all those
strangers simply passing,
extending themselves without
words ever said,

compliments without conditions,
and wishes without desires,
it’s all the things we’d
never count that help us
pass the miles.
__________________________________

Happy Friday, folks. It’s finally here and I’m sure we’re all ready for it. Hope you enjoyed the words above and, even more so, I hope you have enough of those small little things to make your day just fly by. I swear it’s the kind compliments and the small smiles that keep me going around here, and it’s nice to stop once in a while and appreciate them.

Here’s to hoping your weekend is long, your drinks are cold, and you come out fightin’ on Monday.

Bitter Whine

wine cork

The Bitter Whine

Mornings like this
make me wonder
why I ever gave
drinking up,

why I traded in
my shot glass
and took up
a coffee mug.

I shoulda joined
the band at the bar,
I could have been
famous, drinking
whiskey all the time,

but I had to go
and get educated
and now, all I ever
have to drink
is this bitter whine.

___________________________

Mornin’, Folks. It’s Monday again, isn’t it? I’ve tried to ignore that fact myself. However, it’s there all the same and I hope you enjoy this short little crude rhyme and it at least gives you a lil bit to smile at as you start your week.

As for myself, I think I’ll have a bit of chateau de suck-it-up, and try my best to make it through the day 🙂

Dreams

long stairwell

Dreams

Dreams,
they aren’t cheap, kid,
and they’re gonna cost
every damned thing that
you’ve got to give,

And that’s a fact,
You can bet you’re life
on that, and if you’re smart
that’s exactly what you’ll
do,

cause if you don’t,
well, what the hell else
is there worth holding
out for but those aspirations
on which we thrive?

See, in this world, you
either live and give
them all a little somethin’
to talk about, or simply
die and pass quietly
out of the world’s
mind.
_________________________________________

Well, it’s finally here folks; it’s Friday. Hope you enjoy the little diddly of a poem I posted above. Just sayin’ that there isn’t really a whole lot more to live for than your dreams and highest aspirations. Making your mark on the world and all that. If you can’t tell, I like those little momento mori’s, those little ‘don’t forget we don’t last that long’ reminders.

Anywho, here’s to hoping that your weekend is long and rejuvenating, and that Monday finds you rearing and ready to take it face on.

Fold

Close the game,
face down on tables
you lay prostrate,
more saying you submit
rather than lose.

Hell of a way to go,
so flat your tail cant
even squeeze between
your legs, where everyone
knows it should be.

Obsequious and positively
a mess, I’d rather be
knocked down any day
then opt to go out
belly up.
_____________________________

You know, it’s worse to see someone just plain give up rather than lose. Sad, but frustrating at the same time. Least to me it is.

Anywho, I know it’s Monday again, isn’t, folks? I try to ignore that little fact and keep my spirits about me. Here’s to hoping that this nasty little day passes quickly and uneventfully by, and that you enjoyed the words above.

You

You

You

There’s no stopping it,
no shadow dark enough
no cliff to drop it
from that’s depths will
keep it down,

it’s a sort of brilliance
that knows no bounds
except those self-imposed
upon it,

a rough stone rolled
but now, polished,
outshines the stars and
promises to tomorrow that
there will be something
more if they have
anything to say about it

an ambition that drowns
all the rats who try
to cast their sinking ships
atop it,

a fierce fire
that burns and seers
the grasping vines of
those who dare to say
no to its kind,

a force forever reaching
sinking its self into
the annuls of history
and refusing to give in
to this world, its misery,
and avowing never
to back down without
fighting that good fight –

all these things in one,
I have found a living inspiration
by which to live my life.

_____________________________________

Happy Birthday to him to whom my words will never do justice.

Cadence

To this rhythm I walk
saunter, sulk,
across canvases that boast bulk
noise, talk ,
strange chatter that throws me off
hinders, halts,
sturdy steps that seldom stall,
stagger, fall,
off a path that to my heart calls
resounds, enthrall,
diverting my meter from the common throng
rights, wrongs-


–  if you don’t dance to your own music
someone else will  make you sway
to theirs. 

_______________________________

It’s short. It’s simple. It’s Friday, folks. Got a little ‘gotta walk your own path’ vibe going on up there. I like the way the poem flows itself, even though I haven’t pounded it out completely as it really just came to me this morning. Anywho, I hope you enjoy and hold onto that weekend. Grab it with both hands and use it as a shield against the coming week!

Hitting On All Sixes

I’ve got a morning to
get myself together
an hour to refit the glue,
to look at the sun,
take a deep breath in,
and refuel,
because, come nine,
I have to be ready for anything
and anything is exactly
what they’re bound to do,
and amassing less than
hitting on all sixes
simply won’t be enough steam
to carry me on through
this day that’s pacing in
front of me, just dying
to see me lose.
________________________________

Mornin’, folks. It’s Monday again, I know. Somethings just can’t take a hint that they’re not wanted. Despite this nasty little reoccurrence, I hope your day still turns out fine and that you’ve gathered enough strength to go out it again.

The Royal Judiciary

The Royal Judiciary

The Royal Judiciary

The typewriter sits
sizing me up
leering at what it
has to think is so
young,

With piercing black bleachers
full of conspicuous keys
an alert and sternly
jury convening in on
me,

to see if I’ve got
what it takes to
tap them to the rhythm
of a good solid
yarn,

weighing those against
me who, before me,
have gone.

___________________________________________

So I’ve got this old type writer that sits across from the foot of my bed on a dresser by itself and, well, sometimes I just have this feeling like it is watching me. Gigantic black Royal that used to belong to my great grandmother. It might just be my insatiable urge to personify things, but there’s a sort of has this air about it like it is weighing in on me. Well, enough for me to write this little diddy about it, anyway.

Thanks for reading and I hope your Tuesday speeds by and the rest of the week is quick to pass!

To Each Their Own

853004_78162070

To Each Their Own

Here,
in the darkness willing,
where dreams grow weak,
and hearts weary,
I am home.

There
is music in this misery
stories to be told,
and adventures to be had
even when alone.

Anywhere
there exists mood there
to you’ll find a muse
only waiting for someone
to call their own.

_______________________________________

It’s true. I mean, take a good look at E. A. Poe and see what I mean? If there is one thing I have learned in life it is that everyone has their own way of life, and to just live under the banner of ‘to each their own’.  Basically I follow under the principle that people can do whatever floats their boat as long as they don’t rock mine.  Simple, right?

Anywho, happy weekend, folks, and I hope you enjoyed this one!

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