Do Old Men Have Souls?

Do old men have souls?
Why do they gather in coffee shops
Talking conversation chit chat
Stocks and winnings
Stocks and losings

Wandering

I'm driving but I'm not the driver
Snaking streets hidden cul-de-sacs
Getting lost or getting around?
Palm trees and hibiscus
Garbage barrels, old jalopies
and pickup trucks
Windows rolled down
The air is warm, soft and  humid

One eye blink, two eye blinks
Curvy New England neighborhood
Big old oaks and maples
But icy, dark and gray
My gut aches; I feel cold
and a deep longing like homesickness
melancholy, fever

Give me the wheel!
I can no longer sit as a passenger
But I don't know where to go.

What dreams will come tonight?

What dreams will come tonight?
I hope the kind that guide and teach.
Last night I was a reluctant actor
Who nonetheless accepted her role and performed.

Today's Scribble

(Inspired by travel and recent news)

Southwest Airlines blow-out sale
Everything must go!
Fuselage, seats, overhead bins
Passengers, pilots, crew
Don't miss out
forget Delta and Jet Blue

Wanna get away?

A Spoon on the Counter

Posed

And fixed among clutter

No fork or knife beside

Round face slim body with subtle curves

Tucson memorial service

"But what we can NOT do is use this one more occasion to turn on each other."

- President Obama

Another Wednesday (Part 3)

Another Wednesday is here.

Yes, it’s trash day

pickin’ up poops.

No rain this Wednesday.

Everything is frozen

including the poops.

Firm, icy pudding-pops

are December treats

given to me

from the dogs, with love.

I am lucky, indeed.

‘Tis the season…

…to turn on every light in the house at 4 pm because the sun sets at 4:12 pm.

…to wear 3 pairs of wool socks because my feet are frozen sculptures with toe-shaped icicles on the ends.

…to go to bed at 8 pm because it feels like 11 pm because it’s been dark for four hours already.

My Ocean

I enjoy talking with my Ocean.

I say hello; tell her she’s beautiful.

She responds or doesn’t

But we coalesce.

Another Trash Day

It’s Wednesday again.

I like the cleansing feel of a Wednesday

Because it is trash day

But once again

I’m picking up dog shit

In the rain.

Lesson in Mindfulness

My beautiful, inspiring poem...

If you maintain intense focus
on the Patriots game
wide screen HD TV
be sure to glance at the side table
when returning your wine glass to its
resting position
Lest you will experience smashing
and crashing and splattering red
action happening not on the turf
in your HD screen
but upon your couch and carpet
and wood floors, too
Then you miss the game
whilst cleaning your mess
stupid, oh stupid You.

Trash Day

Nothing is more delightful
than collecting dog shit
in the rain.

Enemy

I have no greater enemy than myself.
When Ego is in control –
or blinded by the illusion of control
Spirit suffers in silence.
Suffocating in a black
windowless, doorless prison
Spirit patiently but painfully waits
for Ego to wake up from her nightmare.

Pernicious Post

The perfect prefect in our precinct was perturbed by the prurient priest who pursued a prenup with the previous pervious person of purported purview of preliterate, promiscuous peoples in Persia. 

Flapping

Just writing, simply writing. Your movement, flapping of the hand to the wrist to the elbow and the shoulder. You are writing with your whole arm. It seems your entire body is writing itself onto the paper. Arms and legs flapping, you are alive in the room and alive on the page.

Paraskevidekatriaphobia!

Happy Friday The 13^th! What, not so happy for you? Are you one of the thousands of people across the globe stricken with Paraskevidekatriaphobia? I didn’t make up the word; it really exists. It means “the irrational fear of Friday the thirteenth." Apparently, once you learn how to pronounce the word you’re cured! So get practicin’!

Pig (Part 2)

It seemed the weightless movements of this pig in the air was the only motion in the classroom. I must have been staring at the floor from the shelter of my cap’s brim for quite some time because when I looked up again, the spectacle had changed.

Pig

A life-size molded acrylic pig hovered inches above our heads. Its technicolor pink gave the naive form a humorous tone but no one was smiling. The swine’s mouth was open – would it vomit or scream? Its blank expression suggested neither but I wasn’t sure.

If My Blog Was a Dog

Yes, I’m beginning to grasp at straws. But when the The Funk wraps its black-gloved hands around my neck and chokes the breath out of me, I must use whatever means necessary to…to…produce something.

•      •      •

If my blog was a dog, life would be different – my life, of course. Not yours, silly. Yes! I’d be inspired by…the Adorable, Irresistible, Cute and Ever-faithful Bloggie Woggie!

Blog? What Blog?

So, why haven’t I written on my blog in three weeks? Following are the top five excuses – er – reasons why I haven’t blogged.

5. I stubbed my thumb reaching for my coffee mug so I can't hold a pen nor reach the space bar, thus making it impossible to write or type a coherent post.  

4. YouTube videos are just too much fun. 

3. I have been diagnosed with a not-so-rare disease called "Procrastinatis Avoidus Resistitus" 

2. My brain is sore so I'm giving it bed rest and heavy meds. 

1. No one named Uncle Frankie is forcing me to blog.

Okay, so none of the above are entirely true. (Except for maybe the diagnosis). I’ve been occupied with some time-consuming freelance work which is a good thing, buh-lieve me, but I haven’t had much “free” time. Or I haven’t made the time, as they say. Really, it’s all about balance. Balance is what I seek and balance shall be the topic of my next post. (Stay tuned.)

Meanwhile, if someone could tip Uncle Frankie about my aforementioned disease, I just might recover from the stubbed thumb, rise out of bed, get off the meds, tune-out YouTube and…write?