Poetry, The Written Word

Comments Off 01 September 2018

old couch

How old are the
Pens and Pencils
we use
and
the ones
we toss

What can we ask
friends who
do not understand
the questions
we wonder about

The middle of
my couch is
now
uncomfortably
caved in

It is going to bother
me
more and more

Then
Finally
maybe Friday or
the Friday after that
I will
buy a new couch
with no money down

Poetry, The Written Word

The Show Tonight by T.W. Snicket

Comments Off 15 August 2018

Staring at you, staring at me

The Show Tonight/Inside Sailing through the Night

 

If you Messes

Weren’t here

And the Band

Didn’t show up

I would be home

Wishing both

Of those

Things had happened

Pages of Prose, Poetry, The Written Word

We hiked over my limit I think

Comments Off 11 November 2017

santee

Reading is Fun

Laughing is Fun

Smiling is Fun

Silence is Fun

Awkwardness can be Fun

We all want life to

Be a simple

Handshake with the world

Saying

I am here

I have time

I am ready

Are you Ready

Ready

To Smile

To have fun

To be yourself

Forever

 

 

 

Poetry, reins

The Eugene-Gate Files: A Dream Sequence

No Comments 01 September 2015

We rented a rundown banquet hall on the other side of town for my farewell party and made it on a Monday from 2- 3:15pm in hopes that nobody would show up.  Just in case I sent my stand in.

I was in the back alley behind the Family Dollar enjoying a case of Stroh’s with Randy; the one arm pretend Vet that’s been in every branch of the military and been in every war from the crusades to the gulf conflict when he retired citing irreconcilable differences.  That’s when I got the call of a lifetime.

My neighbors, Anthony and Allie, bought me a stretch limo for my drive West.  They thought it would allow me to bring more of the sentimental items I love so much.  They couldn’t have been more right; I crammed the shit out of the limo.  Another surprise was they equipped it with a GPS attached to a Web link so everyone could see where I had been.  The best part was I could log in and drop pins to let people know the places that I stopped, what I did while I was there and what I didn’t like about it.  If it wasn’t for my fear of losing moisture I would have shed a tear.  Besides my hickory handle hatchet it was the best gift I’ve ever been given.

The trip was going great.  I stopped at the glass museum in Corning, NY and the spoon factory just outside of Dayton, OH.  As I crossed the Iowa border into the picturesque backdrop of Nebraska I noticed a car speeding up behind me.  It soon crossed the double yellow lines and pulled up next to me.  It was Anthony and Allie and they had diabolical looks on their faces.  Allie pulled out what looked like a controller for a remote car.  When she started fidgeting with it my limo started shrinking.

Before I knew it I was wedged between the steering wheel and all of my sentimentals.  The limo was now smaller than a Smart car and Allie had it spinning out of control.  When it crashed into the corn stalks there was a Michael Bay-like explosion and I was burning inside the condensed limo.  It was then that I woke up and looked around.

Everybody Loves Raymond was on and I couldn’t have been more thankful to not be in Nebraska.  I ate another slice of pizza, finished my Dr Pepper and went back to sleep.

Poetry, reins

A Glimmer of Light Through the Black Sun

No Comments 01 September 2015

Devastation can lead to triumph
Bad intentions, good intentions, no intentions
Can all lead down a dark road if not carefully monitored
It’s what is done when the road is at its darkest that makes the difference
Hopefully someone or something will provide a pinhole of light so the next step can be found
Hopefully that pinhole opens up to deep blue skies
And the road is easier to navigate
Not without time and effort

 

Reins.

Poetry

Wednesday Poem of the Week: Pain and Stretching by T.W. Snicket

No Comments 04 June 2015

SeatedHamstringStretch02

Pain and Stretching by T.W. Snicket

As the back goes so does the brain
but
If you could deal with pain
with no precautions
well then what
pull your eyeball out and look at it with the other
decide you do not need those toes

Pain makes us
Pain is sometimes a simple walk
other times a broken heart
Pain is missing a girl who
Maybe does not exist any more
Pain is thinking that is true
Truth is pain can be a hard pill
Truth is pain can mean a trip to your Old Doc
Or Shrink
Sometimes it can be the same affliction.

Maybe stretching  is the key.
I am hearing that.

We do all technically stretch. During this life we’ve grown up and down.
From nothing to life to work.

Fuck that word. Work
Sorry. I got off my train of thought.

Stretching
Ya that is it
Stretching is living
Stretching is life

And it is a beautiful and sometimes
hard to deal with situation

But maybe
and just maybe
We need to stretch ourselves again

Our imaginations, our dreams, our goals, our PHILOSOPHY

Epicurus
Satre
Plato
Dylan
Thompson, Hunter S.
Bukowski
Marx

These men had ideas on how to live.  Not how to live in the world
that you just so happen to be in.  But your own

Living in your own world.
Deliberation must be had
And after said deliberation
Conclusions

Maybe those Conclusions have to do with your current, past, or unknowable future

Maybe I did not deliberate enough tonight
and just maybe

Just Maybe
It is a Johnnie Walker Black Night.

Poetry, The Written Word

Tent in Process

No Comments 21 May 2015

That’s obviously a woodpecker in the distance
More closely, I have no idea what kinds of birds I’m listening to but they’re loud and they’re fond of today’s sunrise.
As I walk it is evident that black flies will accompany me on my travels
A constant battle of me versus them which was getting old, especially with the terrain involved.
As the summit approaches the slight wind to the east keeps the swarms away and allows for a peaceful beer.
The descent begins and the amount of hatched larvae this season starts rearing its ugly head.
Fuck these little fuckers.
The trail down was dry…and great because dry means fast.
The only downside was hoards of agitated flies
It wasn’t until I was driving home that I realized how many  bugs had taken liberties with me.
With each scratch I’m reliving the glory of every step.
Give me as many bug filled miles as you can dream up and I’ll check them out.
Thank you

Poetry

Wednesday Poem of the Week: The Dance by T.W. Snicket

No Comments 11 March 2015

drunk-dancing-jpg

The Dance by T.W. Snicket

Grounded but

the movement is

Fluid

She drinks like

a sailor

but holds it together well

She may be doing Cocaine

She may be Bipolar

But tonight

She is a Star

Poetry

Wednesday Poem of the Week: A night in Jackson Hole by T.W. Snicket

No Comments 25 February 2015

jackson hole

A night in Jackson Hole by T.W. Snicket

Singing Whistling
doing drugs
She might very well be my next
Ex Wife
Smells great but I can Not
Put my finger on the
Scent
Wow is she making me
Crazy
I need to do something to
Impress her
Quick Tim Grab me that wig

Poetry

Wednesday Poem of the Week: A Boat by Richard Brautigan

No Comments 11 February 2015

richard-brautigan

 

A Boat By Richard Brautigan
O beautiful
was the werewolf
in his evil forest.
We took him
to the carnival
and he started
crying
when he saw
the Ferris wheel.
Electric
green and red tears
flowed down
his furry cheeks.
He looked
like a boat
out on the dark
water.

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