how far can you go
trying to get away
go beyond reach
from that heartbeat
wide smile greet
most amazing treat
now torture of the worst kind
better be blind
then look at the lie
created to suit need
being endearing to all
still unable to get away
broken heart, soul sway
perhaps death will bring relief
long forgotten belief
that there is good around
kindness still abound
love could be found
unless being luckless
destiny utter feckless
soul so reckless
goes ahead, dives in a ditch
heartless never flinch
takes a knife, cuts all veins
happy memory lanes
dishonest tyranny reigns
passion lost, ruthless gains
soul runs miles, fortitude wanes,
unable to stop, this fatal drop
and falling airborne me!
CELEBRATE MOTHER’S DAY WITH A FREE AUTOGRAPHED COPY of Life Begins When The Kids Leave Home And The Dog Dies.
Winners of three autographed paperback copies will be randomly drawn from those commenting on this post within the next week.
Happy Mother’s Day!
A Mother’s Day (CAUTIONARY) Fairy Tale
Once upon a time (and we’re talking LONG time), there was a poor Mom named CinderBarb, who married her academic-gypsy prince and moved to Illinois, where CinderBarb began to look for a castle. She soon found that in central Illinois, castle basements came in two forms—finished (floors) and unfinished (not so much). Unfinished basements had exposed plumbing and wiring, dirt (or, in some newer castles, cement) floors, and regular floods. Finished basements had…
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Yesterday, when I was thinking and doing random crap in NYC with my excellent friend Jeanette, I said to her, “‘Random Crap’ is the title of tomorrow’s blog.”
That was not totally random crap on my part, because Jeanette and I had both noticed this Random Crap bag in the window of a random NYC store.
Here are some random thoughts about “Random Crap”:
- Through our lives, we accumulate a lot of random crap.
- Many of our thoughts are random crap.
- We worry about a lot of random crap.
- This blog could conceivably be renamed “The Year(s) of Random Crap.”
- Some of the random crap in this blog is not as random as it might initially seem. For example, I deliberately took my first two photos yesterday for non-random reasons.
Those are two worry dolls I found as I was cleaning out some random crap from my bag before I…
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An interesting story about QUIET A MOM
My mother was not a regular kind of mom. This confused me a lot while I was growing up. Other mothers made cookies, kissed boo-boos. Hung out with the other mothers in summertime. Swapped recipes. Watched soap operas.
My mother didn’t bake anything, much less cookies. She was a terrible cook because she hated it. She was an unenthusiastic housekeeper and the whole “huggy kissy” mothering thing eluded her. She didn’t watch soap operas, loved the Marx Brothers and MGM musicals. She never graduated high school. She read voraciously and constantly. Especially about science and space. She was fascinated by quarks, black holes, and antimatter.
She never kissed a boo-boo; I don’t remember her kissing me at all. She wasn’t that kind of mom.
She had no interest in gossip, recipes, or cute stories about anyone’s kids. She wanted to talk about politics or the space program and which nations were so hopeless they needed a complete redo…
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