Way back in the long ago, before the World Wide Web, before everyone and their grandma had a computer, before facebook, before hashtags and domain names, before trolls were really a thing, before all this… I was… well, maybe you can say I was a late to the game pioneer… on Compuserve. It was the mid-90s, and was married and a bit lonely, as my … Continue reading Like A Migration Back In Time, From Avians To Pachyderms, Goeth I
so, I was all set. tea made. idea almost in reach and I was sideswiped by a friendwith Pika’s sister in towand her best bud Poppy ugh. so. we kvetchedok, i kvetched he can’t talk much brain injurysodrank beertold me I reminded him of Margaret Thatchereventuallyafter some timei guess that’s kinda a hard one to mime– which maybe I deservedas I was expounding on the … Continue reading a short poem not about plants
It happens so innocently, couple drinks on the porch with friends, the night gets chilly, you go inside, turn the music on. Hey, you say innocently, what you want to listen to? AC DC, they say. Ok. After a few songs, old rock songs, one thing leads to another, and they all start to say the same thing. One song after the other, all the … Continue reading So, I Guess Lynyrds Off The List For Awhile
And, so we danced. We danced all Saturday night, and into the early morning. Then we slept in my bed. Well, not only slept. I awoke, did my morning routine, made tea, gave some plants some water, and he slept. Mumbling strange, incoherent things, as I snuggled up with him again. And he slept some more. I woke him up again, made toast, he had … Continue reading “Look For Me, Somewhere Down That Crazy River”
This one I’ll admit I find a little embarrassing and was hard to choose, hard to admit to, truth be told. This post is rather indicative of the rest of that year though, given the broken arm, and off work, I had little to do with myself but write haiku and obsess over this thing or that; this is one of those things. At the … Continue reading The 52nd: the girlfriend on retainer
I find that writing can be little like catching fastballs, or like me not catching them at all and watching them wiz by. I sit here sometimes and have all these words inside, jumping around like those weird Mexican jumping beans you used to be able to get at the corner store, but they just die or pass on perhaps to someone else, maybe those … Continue reading All The Things I Haven’t Said
Is it a picture, Within a picture, again? And, does it matter? In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Monochromatic.” Continue reading the monochrome frog
Well, how bout that, I suppose I will just have to sit here and watch these clouds drift by on my own. Plans fell through, and he has to work. That other me would have been sad. He’s threatened to come before, so I half expected it. Still though, point being, I’m OK with it. Actually, perhaps releaved, a little. Perhaps old lovers should stay … Continue reading when cancelling isn’t necessarily a bad thing
It slithers in the door, drifts across the old wooden floor, floats up through the sheets I lie upon.Thoughts come unbidden to my mind – I can’t remember his voice, I’m forgetting who he was, the words he would say, the engagement of those last days before death finally had its way. Tears streak my cheeks, and grief once again pays a visit. It was … Continue reading I Am Forgetting Him
My wish for today To laugh, to smile, with a friend Just because I can. In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Lucky Star.” Continue reading three wishes
What moves me today, tis a soft breeze, A shady nook, a good book. That butterfly that dances by, the sound of cicadas on a mid-summer night. Perchance, i may be flirting with a new lover, while life flows, it drips, it floods, it enlightens. But that day, within the first month of new grief, opened new vistas of possibilities. And so, born that day … Continue reading What was left in Pandora’s box?
I realized the strangest thing after ditching D3, I was happier. He began as a Crossroads Man, and that I fear he shall remain. Perhaps a lesson? Always. Everyone they say you meet is in some way a lesson…if we choose to see it that way. My sensual Leo nature purred, and I learned somewhere along the way in my travels that I’d gained a … Continue reading With Blind Faith And A Bohemian Heart
“She turned to the sunlight And shook her yellow head, And whispered to her neighbor: “Winter is dead.” ― A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young Continue reading Out And About In A Meadow
by PaulaB 