Monday, September 17, 2007


He felt it still burn
Like a buck knife stuck under the ribs
The years stacked on top of the scar
Could not stop the throb that came
In quiet moments, alone, again
The promises, the looks of hope
All those kisses, the sweaty summer sweetness
Skyrockets in flight and all that
Yet, she left him there
In the junkyard of his heart’s obsolescence
Loping in a meadow of new love
He went to the movies alone
Masturbated, cursed himself as he came
The ensuing rust from tears got old
After the blood dried he forgot the kisses
The days holding hands during TV shows
The obligatory receptions and sorry family dinners
To love, honor and endure, yes
The years have past, the levels achieved
He smiles at friends, looking cool
But, he still waits for the miracle
The soft water to make it clean again

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Fair Quote of 2007

"....this mop, you can give it to a four or five year old child and then adjust the handle upward. The mop actually grows with the child!!!"

Friday, September 07, 2007

"Meadowbrook Nursing Home" by Alice N. Persons

Meadowbrook Nursing Home

On our last visit, when Lucy was fifteen

And getting creaky herself,

One of the nurses said to me,"Why don't you take the cat to Mrs. Harris' room— poor thing lost her leg to diabetes last fall

—she's ninety, and blind, and no one comes to see her.

"The door was open.

I asked the tiny woman in the bed if she would like me to bring Lucy in,

and she turned her headtoward us.

"Oh, yes, I want to touch her."

"I had a cat called Lily — she was so pretty, all white.

She was with me for twenty years, after my husband died too.

She slept with me every night — I loved her very much.

It's hard, in here, since I can't get around.

"Lucy was settling in on the bed.

"You won't believe it, but I used to love to dance.

I was a fool for it! I even won contests.

I wish I had danced more.

It's funny, what you miss when gone.

"This last was a murmur.

She'd fallen asleep.

I lifted the catfrom the bed, tiptoed out, and drove home.

I tried to do some desk workbut couldn't focus.

I went downstairs, pulled the shades,

put on Tina Turnerand cranked it up loudand I danced.

I danced.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Kabir poem 14th century

"Friend, hope for the guest while you are alive. Jump into experience
while you're alive. Think... and think... while you're alive. What you call
salvation, belongs to the time before death. If you don't break your ropes while
you're alive,you think thatghosts will do it after? The idea that the soul will
join with the ecstaticjust because the body's rotten--that's all fantasy. What
is found now is found then. And if you find nothing now, you will simply end up
with an apartment in the City of Death."