Trying to convince the world
That something should exist
Is akin to hurling lightning bolts
While keeping a closed fist.
The true value of a thing
Can never be judged by another,
Hence the reason for the saying,
“A face only loved by your mother.”
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Do or Die.”
http://ift.tt/1wZC50LShelters and havens,
Protection from the tempest
Safe harbors to rest
Oasis in the chaos
Whilst in the eye of the storm.
http://ift.tt/1KmWZknThe loud thud of the motion marked the passage of time.
The minute hand moved one step closer.
I didn’t want this to end.
Another minute gone.
My breathing slowed.
The seconds ticked.
My heart raced.
Everything now
and yet…
Nothing.
Goodbye.
http://ift.tt/1AbfUcgA voice in the darkness calling out toward me.
A voice the beckons me home.
Or is it away from home.
It beckons none the less.
There is light in the darkness, a warmth in the cold.
I linger too long, holding onto the void.
The voice fades into the darkness, muted by the noise of nothing.
And alone I stay.
Stuck.
Afraid to move.
Without choice, without hope, without fear.
I am full of emptiness.
Apathy is thy name.
http://psibrone.wordpress.com/2014/12/29/of-opinions/Secret Santa, Secret Santa, bring me my gift.
Make it so heavy that it’s hard to lift,
Wrap it in paper, stick it with a bow,
Under the tree is where it should go.
On Christmas day, I’ll grab it up quick,
And tear open the package with just a flick,
Revealing the gift that’s hidden inside,
“Just what I wanted!” knowing I lied.
And just remember this part, don’t forget,
We all agreed on a boundary, preset,
You can’t spend more than the ten-dollar limit,
Ok, fine, spend twenty, just never admit.
http://ift.tt/1x0EY5ESomewhere in this stack of life,
I made a list and checked it twice.
It was a list of things to get done,
A so called ‘New Year Resolution’.
I sat and added thing after thing,
The list was long and full of hope,
A lot more awesome, a little less dope.
I held my list up high and cried,
“I’ll do it this year, that’s no lie!”
Then placed it down and started to dance,
This year my life was not left to chance.
When I stopped, the list was not found,
It must have blown away while I danced around.
A sad look found its way to my face,
I slouched my shoulder, slowed my pace.
Then a grand thought occurred to me,
“Who needs resolutions? After all, they’re silly.”
http://ift.tt/1AzSHSjI’m a man of resolutions, the few I make each year,
Promises I proclaim,
Intentions very clear.
I’ll start to enjoy my life, I’ll get more sleep,
I’ll even lose some weight,
These promises I’ll keep.
These New Year’s professions, hopes said to the wind,
Then comes January second,
And the resolutions end.
http://ift.tt/1ARqh4hChristmas time is hear again,
And holiday cheer fills the air.
Christmas Eve Sarajevo by TSO
Plays on my Pandora station.
Stockings hung on the bookshelf
With names turned out but one,
Ornaments cracked and shattered,
While the tree lies on the floor,
Thanks to the cats.
http://ift.tt/1wOEG1FI don’t know who I am anymore,
the mirror lies to me when I look
I don’t know who I am anymore
My innocence the world took,
Huddled in a ball on the floor,
Knees pulled tightly to me,
Huddled in a ball on the floor,
Screaming out “Just let me be.”
I don’t know who I am anymore,
The masks are stripped away,
I don’t know who I am anymore,
There is nothing left to say.
Given the ability to do what I want,
With no thought to extravagance or to cost,
I’d find myself wanting to just end the day,
Cause in my head I would just get lost.
No, seriously.. I wouldn’t even know where to begin…
http://ift.tt/1z2VS3bNerd, geek, dork and dweeb,
Names used to call me,
But not like most,
I tend to boast,
At least it’s me they see.
http://ift.tt/1zFXAH0THE NIGHT BEFORE THANKSGIVING
Tis the night before Thanksgiving and all through our house
No turkey is baking; I feel like a louse,
For I am all nestled, so snug in my bed;
I’m not gettin’ up and I’m not bakin’ bread.
No pies in my oven, no cranberry sauce
Cuz I give the orders, and I am the boss.
When out in the kitchen, there arose such a clatter
I almost got up to see what was the matter.
As I drew in my head and was tossing around
To the bed came my husband, he grimaced, he frowned.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
He scared me to death and I thought, “Here he goes!”
He spoke not a word as he threw back my quilt
And the look that he gave was intended to wilt.
So up to the ceiling my pillows he threw
I knew I had had it, his face had turned blue.
“You prancer, you dodger, you’re lazy, you vixen
Out yonder in kitchen, Thanksgiving you’re fixin.”
But he heard me explain, with my face in a pout:
“I’m just plain too tired and we’re eating out!”
From my buddy over at Mikey’s Funnies, well worth the look to see what else he does.
http://ift.tt/1rvTht5I’ve been writing poetry for a very long time. Mind you, none of it is really all that good, at least not in my opinion. Add to that fact that I have this really weird way of creating songs out of nothing (a trait my wife calls ‘songing’ (yeah, I don’t get it either)), and you end up with this weird mish-mash of strange songs that get song (way out of tune) to the melodies I hear on the radio or tv.
Except for this one time.
I’m not sure when it happened, but it was sometime around my daughter being about 3 years old. She was a ball of fire, always on the go, always quietly planning to do something. That was one of her scary traits. With our son, we always knew he was doing something wrong because he would make a ton of noise doing it. Our daughter however, when she got quiet… you could almost guarantee she had some nefarious plot she had cooked up and was in the midst of trying to take over the world.
Sleep, sleep was something I am sure she deemed for the weak. We could always tell when she was tired because she would wind up, get very chatty, then take a breath and pass out. But I digress into the memories.
As I was saying about the badly tuned singing, I would periodically come up with some stupid silly song and it would just become the song for the moment. I once rewrote the Barney song when my son decided that crying was how he was going to accomplish getting sympathy. It went something like this:
I’m okay, you’re okay
Lets all have a happy day
No more crying, no more fuss,
Lets not be a grumpy gus.
Okay, it went exactly like that (I was trying to save my own dignity, at least what little I think I have left), and as I said, not the greatest (but what do you expect, I seriously made this up on the spot that day). To this day, when one of our children decides that pouting is the answer, it is not uncommon for my wife (or I) to break out in this song just to torment them. Parenting privileges, am I right?
The reason I say all that is because there is one song that has stuck with me since my daughter was about 3 (yep, I’m finally getting back to that part of the story.. rabbit trail much?). She was dressed up in a cute little jean dress, she had her hair up in a ponytail, white sandals and she was just raring to go. For some reason, that just hit me as inspiration, and I imagined her all grown up, and I came up with a little song. No, I won’t record myself singing it, as I do believe that would classify me as a distributor of a weapon of mass eardrum destruction, so for now, the world is safe. However, it has a country feel to the tune and the lyrics go like this:
Blue jean dress and her sandals on,
Hair up in a ponytail and she was gone,
Turning heads all around,
Breaking hearts across the town.
With hair of gold and eyes like the sea,
I just wish that she could be,
If only for just one more day,
Daddy’s little girl.
Needless to say, I was singing that in my head as I typed it up. I’d give you the tune, but unfortunately I am not gifted with such ability (my children however probably could). Years later (or maybe months, it’s all timey-whimey) I wrote a few more verses or chorus or… I don’t know.. lines? I don’t recall them, but they are written down somewhere in one of the many books I started using to write my stuff down.
So, I think I am done embarrassing myself today… but rest assured, there have been many other songs I have made up, none of which you will most likely ever hear (be thankful), and I’m sure as I grow older and grandchildren become part of my life, there will be many more silly songs with Lar… Todd.
Oh, the torture those children will suffer from my voice.
http://ift.tt/1tcxNkdThe fridge called out to me, beckoning through the dark night.My hunger needed to be satiated, ice cream would set things right.I padded down the hallway leaving every light undone. Entering the kitchen, my prize would soon be won. Quietly I stepped, one step in front of the next, til finally I stood on the verge of the apex.My final step would prove fatal to my cause, as upon the cat I stepped and he swiped with his claws. I cried out in pain as tears welled in my eyes, my wife would now know my cheating from my howls and my cries.
http://ift.tt/1tGfqJzDrowning in a sea of people
Surrounded by life, but dead inside.
Alone in a crowd
Alone.
Smiles on the outside,
Ever reaching, never connecting, cut off…
Isolated…
Abandoned.
Who will go the extra step?
Push past the fluff and get to the hurt.
Shackles hold fast,
Pulling me back.
Can’t reach out,
Too afraid.
Held by fear.
Rejection.
Who
will
rescue
me?
http://ift.tt/1zbdpcsI did not write these, but re-posting them because I do enjoy good Haiku’s.
The Web site you seek
Cannot be located, but
Countless more exist.
——————————————–
Chaos reigns within.
Reflect, repent, and reboot.
Order shall return.
——————————————–
Windows crashed again.
I am the Blue Screen of Death.
No one hears your screams.
——————————————–
Yesterday it worked.
Today it is not working.
Windows is like that.
——————————————–
Your file was so big.
It might be very useful.
But now it is gone.
——————————————–
Stay the patient course.
Of little worth is your ire.
The network is down.
——————————————–
A crash reduces
Your expensive computer
To a simple stone.
——————————————–
Three things are certain:
Death, taxes and lost data.
Guess which has occurred.
——————————————–
Having been erased,
The document you’re seeking
Must now be retyped.
——————————————–
Serious error.
All shortcuts have disappeared.
Screen. Mind. Both are blank.
From Mikey’s funnies
http://ift.tt/1pBmGRB
It started innocent enough.
I spotted her from across the room.
That red headed girl. She made me feel like Charlie Brown. (Who am I kidding, I was Charlie Brown.)
Somewhere along the way, she showed me I could be Westley, but to win her, there would be sword fights, pirates, murder… true love. (it didn’t sound like such a bad story). Then, I left, just like Westley, to find my way so that I could make something for us.
Somewhere along the road, I think I might have gotten a little lost, but, there she was, back home, my anchor to reality. I wanted so desperately to be somebody, to be better than the dork and nerd I had come to be (btw, this was way before that was the in thing…WAY before). I wanted to prove to the world that I had value, that I was special, that I could do things they only dreamed of.
I never noticed I already was that to her.
She made me believe. Believe in something I never believed in before.
Myself.
So, I asked. She said yes. I said when, she said now. I said “I’ll hurry home.”
War started. I was delayed. But, war can’t stop true love, it can only delay it by a day.
I stood there. She walked in. All in white, me in Navy blue.
I said “I do.” She said “Me too.”
The kiss.
She has never completed me, that’s not her job (That belongs to God alone). But, she is the best compliment I could ever ask for.
24 years ago today.
Like a blink as I look back. A blink filled with tears.
As with all good stories.. this one is
Too be continued…
http://ift.tt/1tWrIOWThere once was a man born first,
But he suffered from a great thirst,
With nary a thought,
From his brother he bought,
And sold his namesake for a curse.
http://ift.tt/1AvhcwP
