Titanic

Remember all those throes upon the slanting deck. Place yourself where you are placed by destiny and behold the craven acts of others, the heroics of some and take your measure upon the stage about to sink beneath your feet. Strike out, survive and live to tell what life meant when life sank unsinkable below the inexhaustible waves. ♠

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Song To The Moon

Tell your people you love them. Once long ago I rode through the night and the radio brought me this message in a song. Dvorak’s Song to the Moon from the opera Rusalka. I cannot play it for you here, but when I heard it then the message came clear. Tell your people you love them. I called my sisters. I told them to do what I had heard. Soon thereafter our parents passed away. First one then the other. Tell your people you love them. Listen to the music and do not hesitate. Do not hesitate to lift your voice in song, for sooner or later the music will stop for you, for them, for us and the empty stage will give no further satisfaction to the audience when once the concert is over. Tell your people you love them. Perhaps they will listen. Perhaps they will reply. In […]

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I Stopped For Green

There I sat, waiting for the light, absorbed in me. Oh the thoughts, the uninvited guests to my morbid feast, the unwelcome sons of bitches that have spoiled so many parties I’ve tried to throw, the bullies of my soul. I looked up and realized the light had gone to yellow. That means I stopped for and sat through the green. Silly me. I drove off smiling, chuckling, then laughed out loud. I wonder how many times I’ve done that in my life. Silly me.   ♥

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Comrades

Old friends, the time has come for us to part. I’ve worn you out, for all the times I’ve worn you out there working. Toes scuffed down to safety steel. Paint splattered on your desiccated uppers. How many laces did I break? Soles worn through completely like mine from time to time and me still standing on my own. We stood so much together, dizzy heights and mucky depths, laces wrapped twice tight around my ankles, knotted with a double bow. Adieu. Take your rest. You’re no good to me anymore. But I am good for something yet and I will do what I must do today. I bought myself a brand new pair of boots. ♠

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Horizon Line

I come to where I started, ‘neath night and day travailed between the stars and earth, a birth canal of freedom into a world known only to the Maker and to me. I stand now where I started upon bended knee, not in subjugation, but in homage to all I’ve seen. This line, this commencement, this necessary portal must be opened, must be crossed until I once more stand before an unknown world and venture forth. ∞

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Bookish

They all stare down and twiddle their thumbs, tap with their fingers and bow their heads in prayerful homage to the screens they hold, the little electric heart and souls of existence. I hold my book, my silent paginated friend, all energy within and no batteries or power cord required. I prefer the leather and the binding, the words unfurled for me across the centuries, the ancient text without text messaging. ♦

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The Road Home

It lies there before me. The road home where I have been and never been before. The path to adventure, wonderment and glory where I know every inch and footfall and lead habitual ways. It lies there before me on a globe so vast I reach where I began, yet always new, like love, like life, always there before me. ♥

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Winter Tree

“Enjoying the sun?” “Yes sir, I am.” Moments before I saw a barren tree adorned with a single star, atop the otherwise barren branches. There I sat, a calm day, a reason to rest and Christmas as it were blazing devoid of any other ornamentation. We spoil ourselves with decorations, tinsel and lights and then one way up high as though the others weren’t enough. “Enjoying the sun?” You bet I am. Today it’s all I got. ƒ

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Ice Chimes

Ever notice? Wind chimes beneath the eaves resemble icicles on this winter day. In a burst of enthusiasm, you know, artistic fervor and all that I went and took a whack at the icicles, thinking they might yield a version of aeolian harp, albeit frozen and sound like wind chimes. Just my luck. They merely shattered. Curses, foiled again. ƒ

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SAD

I’m sad because you don’t love me. You’re cold and grey and barren toward me. All the emotions you lavished have gone. I’m afraid to take a single step for fear I’ll slip and fall lower still in your estimation. When will it end? This cruel resignation? Seasonal affective disorder notwithstanding, without you Spring offers no happy ending. ♥

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