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the thought of death is an uneasy thought
in my case it's a ****** nightmare

on the 16th day of May, 1967, Mr Youngblood took his 6th grade class to the playground as he always did, every Tuesday after lunch. The kids spread out to their usual positions. Some played catch with Mr Youngblood. A few, like Roger and me went to the basketball net and several played on the monkey bars, both of which were part of the big asphalt square. Just opposite this area was the soccer field and then some good distance between that and the Middle School. Lots of open space for a bunch of suburban kids to have fun. The Sun was bright and the wind was light and the temperature was right around perfect. We had been playing for 10 minutes or so when the wind picked up and clouds seemed to move in out of nowhere. We all thought it must be a storm coming...and it was. A distant laugh froze everyone. At first no-one saw him, but then we all saw him at once. He was walking across the soccer field towards us, long deliberate strides with long thin legs that seemed to bend once slightly below where the knee should be and again slightly above, making each stride awkwardly horrifying. Where he came from is a mystery as there was nothing but open land behind him for several hundred yards. He was tall and lanky and as he approached us, I noticed that his face was contorted and discolored...a pale, almost painted white and he had jet black hair combed back, long and greasy. His lips were thin and black and his eyes bloodshot and almond shaped. He wore a black suit, a black shirt and candy apple red tie. He looked like a mosh-up of Curry's Pennywise and Ledger's Joker, only I would have traded for either one of those ******* right now over this guy, ten to one. He came to the edge of the concrete square. Johnny ****** his pants and Charlene fell from the monkey bars, landing awkwardly on her left side and causing a compound fracture, her radius protruding from her skin leaving her hand dangling like a dead fish. She did not scream either because she was scared it might draw his attention or she was going into shock...or maybe both. He took two more steps forward and then began laughing as if he'd just heard the funniest joke he'd ever been told. His teeth looked as if they'd been replaced with shark's teeth. I swear there were rows of them and his mouth stretched inhumanly wide. His laugh slowly winded down to a snarl, and he gave a long look to each one of us, as if he was burning the faces to memory. And then he spoke..."You children just go on having lots of fun! Well, except for you Johnny...didn't your Mom just rip you a new *** for ******* your pants at Grandma's? shame, shame!" And Johnny was off...tripping twice before he got his feet under him. "You run home and ...Ha Ha Ha...oh my...change your pants, you pathetic little ****!" Mr Youngblood picked up Charlene and started to carry her inside. By this time her pretty pink dress was soaked in blood. The freak addressed him. "Nice man...but you can't save them. In a few days they will all be mine." He laughed again and every kid ran for their lives back to the school. I was the only one who stayed. To this day I'm not sure why. He turned and walked towards me slowly. "What have we here? The little man isn't running with the others. Are you not afraid Billy boy? Afraid for your life?"...and he leaned in close...close enough that I smelled a foulness that cannot be described. "Because that is what I'm here for...your life!" "Who are you?", I asked... and with that his dark black and pointed eyebrows raised and he straightened up. "Who am I...Who am I? My, my the boy has a backbone. The nerve to question while others lose control of their bladders. Well, I'll tell you who I am, child. I am God's worst nightmare. I am every ***** little secret thought you've ever had. I am evil in all it's forms wrapped up in one little package and sent to collect the souls of the innocent. All of you here today will be mine tomorrow. Roger will fall down the stairs off of his front porch and break his neck. Charlene will die from infection due to that nasty little accident and Becky will be hit by the school bus Thursday morning. That will be most nasty! Almost a decapitation. I won't bore you with the rest, but they will all die. Hmmm...you know what Billy... I like you, so I'm thinking, perhaps...yes, I'm going to make a special offer to my new special friend. I won't take your soul until you die from natural causes. What do you think of that idea? At that moment, when your family is gathered round your bedside after suffering that...well, maybe you don't want to know the details... you will see a bright light...but you won't be going towards the light Billy...at that moment I will place my hand on your shoulder and that light will slowly fade into darkness and we will meet again, and you will become my apprentice. So, what do you think of that, Billy? Do you want to be my apprentice, or do I **** you now? Come, come...I haven't much time!" I tried to answer, but my mouth was as dry as cardboard and I could only manage a weak gasp. That laugh again and he turned and walked away in the same direction..."I'll take that as a yes. Remember, you are mine upon your death, Billy boy!" The wind died and the Sun appeared again.
By the end of the week, every child on the playground that day had died...exactly as he stated they would.

And now you know why, even in my darkest days, I never, ever contemplate suicide.
this story was prompted by a Joker bobblehead I found in a collectibles store that is creepy as hell - I think I will make it my annual Halloween post!
10.2k · May 2016
A most insightful man
George Carlin's wife died early in 2008 and George followed her, dying in July 2008. It is ironic George Carlin - comedian of the 70's and 80's - could write something so very eloquent and so very appropriate. An observation by George Carlin:

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to ****. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.

Remember to spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.

Remember, to say, 'I love you' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

And always remember, life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by those moments that take our breath away.
after some research...it appears this may not belong to Mr. Carlin...so forgive me for not digging a bit earlier. Especially, my sincere apology to George!
9.0k · Dec 2017
a momentary smile
in this age of vanishing dreams
and crying ghosts
I find myself drawn again and again
an undying connection
to this work of art
so out of time upon its creation
as to be an endless fascination for me
so unlike the artist
this suffering soul
who's immense love and anguish
for the less fortunate
coupled with a talent too immense
for one man
created a burden that weighed upon his shoulders
and his heart like a million captured tears
then once upon a beautiful dream
or perhaps just a clever thought or a baby's smile
a brief respite from the pain
he created the contradiction of his lifetime
as if to say to all that may come to know him
through what history dictates
'You see...I was not crazy!'
and The Smoking Skull
was born
I have some connection to this painting that I cannot explain...perhaps that is my skeleton in a past life...(grin)
8.7k · Jul 2018
sting
a honey bee stung me
not because I disturbed the remnants of his hive
or stepped on the flower he sat upon
I watched puzzled as he struggled on the ground
after burying his sword in my arm
thus sacrificing himself
in honor of his brothers and his queen
you see
he was the last
he had no voice to tell me of their fate
the destruction we'd wrought
on this docile creature
this creator of sweet nectar

the sting was brief and I brushed it away
and continued on
as we all do when only temporarily impeded
unaware
the sting about to come
we have no idea
8.6k · Aug 2016
brown shoes
Home bound after work
near 12:30 am
just a few minutes from checking my email
then retiring
as us old folks like to call it

from the North side of route 7
at a slight angle
there and gone in half a second
was the biggest meteor I've ever seen
if that's what it was
so big that I slowed and listened for a boom
but nothing came
I have no idea how far it went before touching down
but this isn't about the meteor
this is about the fact that when I got home
and thought about who I would tell...
there was no one that came to mind
I've seen so much crazy **** in my life
that the stories have grown old
even the new ones
I breathed life into a dead woman one morning
then faced the fact that I couldn't save another
hit by a truck on my way home
just after midnight

on the day before the great Russian meteor
I saw 2 objects in the sky on fire
and not moving...
in broad daylight
I've been touched and spoken to
by spirits or ghosts or phantoms
take your pick
I saw 3000 people sacrificed in the name of what?
and as a child I witnessed a president murdered by those supposed to follow him
I've grown to see the young know nothing of that last President who actually had a vision and a spine

and when I quietly leave this life
there will be little to note...
a brief glance
of my obituary
by a few sad souls

I often think of a quote I heard as a young man
by a comedian; George Gobel
who was on the 'Tonight Show'
Dean Martin and Bob Hope were also on that show
and unknown to George, Dean was flipping his cigarette ashes
in George's drink as he was telling his humorous stories
this caused the laughs to come out of sequence...and finally a confused George said; 'Did you ever feel like the world was a tuxedo and you were a pair of brown shoes?'
8.2k · Jul 2018
forged
forged in the likeness of you
the whisper meanders in my memory bank
it dances softly on a burgundy velvet glove
that covers my wrinkled hand
it visits me in deepest dreams
and speaks in hushed tones
of the infinite days ahead
when we shall once again dance together

forged in the feeling of you
I live each day like the last
holding onto the past
like a cat with a captured bird
not allowing it to die
waking to the sounds of winter winds
and old favorites on the radio
the ones we listened to together
so many years ago
those years that forged a love so strong
that I rarely blink twice
without the thought of you dancing by
12/2006 slightly revised
7.0k · Mar 2017
undying
these shallow glimpses we share
as days grow long
the scattered thoughts swirl and bury themselves
in crevices of this old house
to be re-awakened perhaps
when we are many years gone
what can we salvage of this eternal bond
while the Sun buries itself behind the Oak
that we've watched grow from the kitchen window
since the days when our hair was thick and dark
and the smell of fresh cut wood was present
what words can I say to bring tears to your eyes
tears that would come from but a glimpse
that shouted my fervent love
we are captives of our timeless, undying, unwavering hearts
yet all that remains of this diminishing soul
would disperse like the final slivers of light
should I lose you
5.7k · Jul 2018
from a distance
can I fall in love with you
from a distance
from an angle
from a smile caught in time
feeling only that which derives
from your voice
your words
your soul that travels these many miles

can I trust the toys
that allow me to know
some of you
filter out what I don't care to see
hiding behind that glow

can I fall in love with you
from a dream
that brings you here to stay
beyond that dreams end
04/07 - revised
5.6k · Jun 2016
the dig
I am prey to the unyielding Sun
here in this open field
void of shade
holding precious pieces
untouched for 140 years
200 acres of Virginia farmland beneath my feet
where bullets flew
where strong men screamed
and the soil looked as if it had rained blood
death can come quickly or painfully slow

A soldier rips the Eagle breastplate from his chest
and throws it to the ground where I am standing
and here in the sweltering heat
of a calm June afternoon
I pull it from its resting place
no longer shining
140 years removed
from the failing heart
beneath it
re-post
5.1k · Jan 2018
everything I touch
and there you are
walking into another lost dream
your whispers and gentle smile
touching the memories  
I hold dear

like the dream
our time was brief
you turn and walk away as you did
40 years ago
you wanted more from me
another day
another week
and perhaps I would have realized
that I truly loved you
but we know how cruel time can be
and I let you go

I awaken to your image
fading quickly
and I decide to find you
maybe to ask forgiveness
maybe to beg

but I am too late
and you have left me
only to be found
in my dreams
in my sorrow
We make decisions in our lives that may seem of little importance at the time, only to realize the immensity later. like the song...I let her go... I looked for her again recently, only to find she had passed away in 2009. A punch to the soul that I will never fully recover.
3.1k · Aug 2022
sleep
tears drop from a thousand eyes
and wash the sidewalks clean
of filth
of blood
of desperate cries
gone silent with the dream
darkness lights the alleyways
where life is cheap as rust
needles lay in greasy puddles
rats feed on the crust
deeper we fall
into nightmares awoken
speak not of this if you live in the light
there are tears enough for that which is broken
just close your eyes
and sleep at night
2.5k · Sep 2023
turn around
have you ever talked to a ghost
I have
have you ever looked death in the face and survived
I have
have you ever contemplated joining the dead
I have...many times
yet I relinquish those thoughts
once I consider
I would just be adding pain
to pain
turn around
thank you Neil
2.5k · Mar 2017
dark waters
my dark waters stir
turning the moon's placid reflection
into a chaotic dance of broken light
echoes of churning
deep water
saturate
and raise your foreboding laughter
up and over the old well's lips
but you will not awaken me
to burn this nightmare into my core
rather I shall sleep into dawn
awaken to a silent Sun
you once held my heart below these waters
but unlike all those that followed
I survived you
you may impose fear in the heart
of a wayward toad
or other spineless woodland creatures
but I sleep well
immune to your frozen tears
inspired by the song 'Poltergeist' by Banks
https://youtu.be/2WaA8rYCKFo
2.1k · Jan 2017
Freewill
Freewill

Rush

There are those who think that life
Has nothing left to chance
A host of holy horrors
To direct our aimless dance

A planet of playthings
We dance on the strings
Of powers we cannot perceive
The stars aren't aligned
Or the gods are malign
Blame is better to give than receive

You can choose a ready guide
In some celestial voice
If you choose not to decide
You still have made a choice

You can choose from phantom fears
And kindness that can ****
I will choose a path that's clear
I will choose free will

There are those who think that
They've been dealt a losing hand
The cards were stacked against them
They weren't born in Lotus-Land

All preordained
A prisoner in chains
A victim of venomous fate
Kicked in the face
You can't pray for a place
In heaven's unearthly estate

You can choose a ready guide
In some celestial voice
If you choose not to decide
You still have made a choice

You can choose from phantom fears
And kindness that can ****
I will choose a path that's clear
I will choose free will

Each of us
A cell of awareness
Imperfect and incomplete
Genetic blends
With uncertain ends
On a fortune hunt
That's far too fleet

You can choose a ready guide
In some celestial voice
If you choose not to decide
You still have made a choice

You can choose from phantom fears
And kindness that can ****
I will choose a path that's clear
I will choose free will

Songwriters: GEDDY LEE, ALEX LIFESON, NEIL PEART
I was inspired to post this after reading 'Choose' by Pamela Rae
1.9k · Jan 2016
battle scars
Battle scars of lives once known
have come to haunt my waking life
I clench the wheel but waves have thrown
my modest journey into strife
clouds pelt rain from mighty storms
that rage relentless on endless seas
thunder rolls and figures swarm
the mountains dark and void of trees
the wind and rain like needles cold
submerge my desperate plea for light
the day now distant, faint and old
like a child's balloon drifts out of sight
there is no place for memories here
the waking life will pay the cost
seas are littered with those that fear
the echoes of the battles lost
'let's walk to the ocean'
said the passing clown to the mime
it's quite a long way
expressed the mime
'yes it is?'
the clown replied
mime frowned
and they began walking...
clown in his big floppy red shoes
mime improvising as he went

at the edge of town they ran into a juggler
on the corner trying to pick up a few coins in his cup
clown asked the juggler if he'd care to join them
in their walk to the ocean
juggler said 'why not, things are kind of
up in the air for me right now'
they headed west toward the coast
clown had 5 boxes of Mike and Ikes...every flavor
in his red scarf on a stick
mime had plenty of slim jims
this would keep them fed until they reached their destination

several hours into their odyssey
a storm approached
a lone well drawn pine provided refuge until the storm cleared
as well as a snack and chance to learn of each other's journey
to this point
clown had done many things throughout his life
in pursuit of love, home and family
but he had failed in his search for a life he always dreamed of
and now this face of heavy make-up and big red nose would
hide the fact that he lived a life of constant sadness
mime had been a singer and worked for years to perfect
his craft... dreamed of making it to the big stage
but he refused to sing what they wanted him to sing and even though he had amazing talent, he was refused time and time again
becoming a mime would mean he'd never be reminded of the beautiful voice he possessed
juggler was a star pitcher known for his amazing fastball when he graduated college and was only days from signing a contract with the Yankees when a car accident damaged his shoulder so severely he lost his fastball
he juggles to keep his arm in shape in case his fastball ever returns
juggler asked clown why they were headed to the beach
mime was interested as well and produced the perfect look of inquiry
clown stood up...tossed the red scarf on a stick full of Mike & Ike's over his shoulder, brushed himself off and replied...
'why not?'
no idea where this came from
1.8k · Jan 2023
twilight
and so I search
again
it is still there
fading
unnoticed
into the otherwise glowing abyss
this incredibly beautiful
incredibly lonely universe
this dying star
from eons past
a silent twinkle of light
if we happen to be looking
but the cries go unheard
1.7k · Jan 2022
Gatekeeper
I wish to know your dreams
Gatekeeper to imagination
at the doorway of consciousness
you hold the key
for so many years I have followed you
into the cosmos
to return enlightened
a better man
join me on this final journey
guide me to the other side
take my hand into forever
came to me in my dreams
1.7k · Sep 2018
without a tear
what is poetry
without a tear
for the dying embers
the distant cheer
for a truth now lost
in chaotic bliss
the magic hidden
within a kiss
the whisper of love
only lovers hear
what is poetry
without a tear
9/15/18
1.7k · May 2018
spirit chaser
such a thin line separates us
the living from the dead
the spirit that is free
from that which is bound
I have felt your gentle touch
and heard your whispered plea
I sense your presence
across the open seas of time
are you my love from a distant past
a kinder world
a quiet life?
I have come to believe that you wait for me
there
just across the line
just beyond the fray
where spirits dwell
oldie - revised a bit
1.6k · Dec 2015
Immortals
I entrust my dreams to a silent hope
that they will someday find their place
in this, a past or future life
same smile on different face

I entrust my thoughts to travel time
to land where there is need
a sense of calm
a flash of joy
where nothing grows
a seed

I entrust my love to peer across
the synchronistic chain
to spy it's true immortal mate
hearts join like tears and rain

I entrust my soul to find a home
in this universal plan
lives re-written
searching for
the key to understand
1.6k · Jul 2022
shoreline
their lights are dim on the horizon
two ships headed East
soft blue glow barely seen
from this vacant shoreline
random stars begin peeking
through the thinning cloud cover
in the remaining bit of light
ghost ***** scurry about
free of human interruption
the white crest of breaking waves
glimpses in the darkness
this is when the beach awakens
this is when I am at home
breathing the life of the sea
my favorite spot
1.6k · Feb 2016
delicate dream
I refuse to surrender my delicate dream
that arrives with each rising moon
words come to play in a new color scheme
like a dance, the rhyme writes the tune
a connection I trust is somewhere made
when I share with the sad and reclusive awake
how the Sun is alive when observed from the shade
what a difference a thought can make
1.5k · Jul 2018
abyss (repost)
the wind that howls in the deepest night
is a comforting sound
the dog that moans in the earliest light
is a soulmate found
I abhor the thought of wistful bliss
of nervous laughter unprovoked
I slip into my warm abyss
this sea of pain on which I choke
I wade in pools of sought despair
while punks seek out their mothers
I dance on floors of rotted wood
and sing to ghosts of lovers
I find it my salvation
to document this pain
to analyze the demons
and revel in the rain
perhaps one day I'll leave this place
and walk into the Sun
to share the light of happiness
content my deed is done
whole new crop of oldies I discovered. (revised) I will mix old and new.
1.5k · Jan 2016
a playground scene: 1967
the thought of death is an uneasy thought
in my case it's a ****** nightmare

on the 16th day of May, 1967, Mr Youngblood took his 6th grade class to the playground as he always does, every Tuesday after lunch. The kids spread out to their usual positions. Some played catch with Mr Youngblood. A few, like Roger and me went to the basketball net and several played on the monkey bars, both of which were part of the big asphalt square. Just opposite this area was the soccer field and then some good distance between that and the Middle School. Lots of open space for a bunch of suburban kids to have fun. The Sun was bright and the wind was light and the temperature was right around perfect. We had been playing for 10 minutes or so when the wind picked up and clouds seemed to move in out of nowhere. We all thought it must be a storm coming...and it was. A distant laugh froze everyone. At first no-one saw him, but then we all saw him at once. He was walking across the soccer field towards us, long deliberate strides. Where he came from is a mystery as there was nothing but open land behind him for several hundred yards. He was tall and lanky and as he approached us, I noticed that his face was contorted and discolored...a pale, almost painted white and he had jet black hair combed back, long and greasy. His lips were thin and black and his eyes bloodshot and almond shaped. He wore a black suit, a black shirt and candy apple red tie. He looked like a mosh-up of Curry's Pennywise and Ledger's Joker, only I would have traded for either one of those ******* right now over this guy, ten to one. He came to the edge of the concrete square. Johnny ****** his pants and Charlene fell from the monkey bars, landing on her left side and causing a compound fracture, her radius protruding from her skin leaving her hand dangling like a dead fish. She did not scream either because she was scared it might draw his attention or she was going into shock...or maybe both. He took two more steps forward and then began laughing as if he'd just heard the funniest joke he'd ever been told. His teeth looked as if they'd been replaced with shark's teeth. I swear there were rows of them and his mouth stretched inhumanly wide. His laugh slowly winded down to a snarl, and he gave a long look to each one of us, as if he was burning the faces to memory. And then he spoke..."You children just go on having lots of fun! Well, except for you Johnny...didn't your Mom just rip you a new *** for ******* your pants at Grandma's? shame, shame!" And Johnny was off...tripping twice before he got his feet under him. "You run home and ...Ha Ha Ha...oh my...change your pants, you pathetic little ****!" Mr Youngblood picked up Charlene and started to carry her inside. By this time her pretty pink dress was soaked in blood. The freak addressed him. "Nice man...but you can't save them. In a few days they will all be mine." He laughed again and every kid ran for their lives back to the school. I was the only one who stayed. To this day I'm not sure why. He turned and walked towards me slowly. "What have we here? The little man isn't running with the others. Are you not afraid Billy boy? Afraid for your life?"...and he leaned in close...close enough that I smelled a foulness that cannot be described. "Because that is what I'm here for...your life!" "Who are you, I asked" and with that his dark black and pointed eyebrows raised and he straightened up. "Who am I...Who am I? My, my the boy has a backbone. The nerve to question while others lose control of their bladders. Well, I'll tell you who I am, child. I am God's worst nightmare. I am every ***** little secret thought you've ever had. I am evil in all it's forms wrapped up in one little package and sent to collect the souls of the innocent. All of you here today will be mine tomorrow. Roger will fall down the stairs off of his front porch and break his neck. Charlene will die from infection due to that nasty little accident and Becky will be hit by the school bus Thursday morning. That will be most nasty! Almost a decapitation. I won't bore you with the rest, but they will all die. Hmmm...you know what Billy... I like you, so I'm thinking, perhaps...yes, I'm going to make a special offer to my new special friend. I won't take your soul until you die from natural causes. What do you think of that idea? At that moment, when your family is gathered round your bedside after suffering that...well, maybe you don't want to know the details... you will see a bright light...but you won't be going towards the light Billy...at that moment I will place my hand on your shoulder and that light will slowly fade into darkness and we will meet again, and you will become my apprentice. So, what do you think of that, Billy? Do you want to be my apprentice, or do I **** you now? Come, come...I haven't much time!" I tried to answer, but my mouth was as dry as cardboard and I could only manage a weak gasp. That laugh again and he turned and walked away in the same direction..."I'll take that as a yes. Remember, you are mine upon your death, Billy boy!" The wind died and the Sun appeared again.
By the end of the week, every child on the playground that day had died...exactly as he stated they would.

And now you know why, even in my darkest days, I never, ever contemplate suicide.
this story was prompted by a Joker bobblehead I found in a collectibles store that is creepy as hell
1.5k · Feb 2016
the bluegill and the sunfish
....and so they swam together
the Bluegill and the Sunfish
respectful of one another
surviving each other
sharing the moths and flies and grasshoppers
that i provided them
taking turns snatching each from the surface
in their 10 gallon pond
that sits on a table in the corner,
serene
one day I mistakenly added a 3rd
and together the Bluegill and the Sunfish attacked,
plucking one eye of the stunned little Perch
'If you wish to view us swimming together
whilst you contemplate another pathetic poem,
do not add a 3rd to our happy little pond
unless you plan on getting a larger pond!'
it was difficult to understand them through the bubbles,
but I got the message
I had no room for a bigger pond
so I let them be
I took One-Eye Perch back to the big Pond and released him
I hope he's still not swimming in circles
for many months they gave me much pleasure
I'd watch them chase each other through the sunken tugboats
and fake sea plants
seeing their surprised, then angry looks
when they'd bite down on a rubber worm I'd toss in their pond
only to eventually laugh about it
very often they'd come to the corner closest to the tv
and watch 'The Simpsons' with me
One day I realized that they had grown too big for their little home
and I sadly faced the fact that they must be returned to their birthplace;
the Hill High Pond
the next morning I gathered up Bluegill and Sunfish in a small bowl while they slept
I paddled a canoe to the middle of the Pond at daybreak and awoke my friends
at first they seemed confused, but it quickly dawned on them where they were and what my plan was
I gently lay them one by one into the clear, calm water
as they swam away slowly
turning to wave their little fins in both goodbye and thanks
a Carp the size of Moby **** appeared from below and made a quick snack of them both
a tear welled in my eye as I stare dumbfounded at the unsettled water
a Catfish that looked remarkably like Fred Sanford
stuck his head and whiskers out of the pond just long enough to say;
" Ain't that a *****!?"
I paddled reluctantly back to shore
where I spotted an old man fishing from the edge
apparently he had witnessed the entire episode
"Years ago I got friendly with a tuna I'd caught in the Black Sea
came home one day just in time to see his tail hangin' outta my cat Charlie's mouth
first rule of the Sea, son
Never get attached
they'll just break your heart"
...and so goes my tale of Bluegill and Sunfish
a tail of two fishes
1.4k · Sep 2018
so this is Christmas
so this is Christmas
and what have we done
war is still blazing
while we burn in the Sun
glaciers are melting
our coasts disappear
it's 70 in December
and we're full of good cheer
our country is wasting away at the core
the doctrines set forth
don't exist anymore
we ignore mass genocide
in poor countries but leap
to right all the wrongs
where there's oil to reap
when the rich do their drugs
we're so sad for their disease
when the poor do the same
they are lowlifes and thieves
with all our technology, our knowledge, our toys
millions still starve
deck the halls girls and boys
and while oppression occurs
every minute, every day
we idly stand by, disregard, look away
we turn on our TV's
and bask in it's light
Merry Christmas to all
and to all a good night
12/06...revised...first 2 lines are from the John Lennon song of the same title...another artist who I believe was laid to rest due to his outspoken views on war. I know it's a bit early...but I dug it up and decided to post.
1.4k · Mar 2018
Redneck Wedding Toast
I wrote your sweet name in the glistening snow
I drank too much beer and just had to go
it's your weddin' reception
and I thought Fred should know
that I nailed you last week in my 86 Volvo
Good thing I drank that 12 pack of Schlitz
cause the beer ya'll servin'
gives me the sh-ts
I know it's a tad sloppy
but if I get on my knees
I may **** icicles
cause my doodads'l freeze!
Now the world knows that the ****** did lie
will ya cross the 'T' Billy Bob?
I done ****** myself dry
Happy Honeymoon Fred and your two timin' *****
Don't forget to tell him 'bout Bubba and Frank?
Burp! ....somebody catch me!!!
very oldie! all in fun
1.4k · Feb 2018
sweet dream
Voice calls gently in the night
mind awakens lucid flight
gazing from Orion's shores
Angels open dreamscape doors
shadows cross the face of Mars
lovers count the falling stars
Sun evokes a gentle breath
to mark another twilight's death
awaken dreamer to morning's light
dreams rest silent til birth of night
oldie re-worked
1.4k · Feb 2022
Wheat Fields of Arles
I gaze the wheat field
gusts of wind erupt and impede to the very end
crows take flight towards the blood red Sun
he calls them back
rests his weary hands and tired eyes
before the long walk into town
his silhouette fades as I awaken
to view the captured image that hangs
from my wall
the perfect lucid dream
1.4k · Nov 2021
waiting on time
I manage to walk a few miles every 2 or 3 days
in a failing effort to loosen the muscles
and ease the soreness of bad knees and a dissolving spine
we no longer discuss when it will happen
but rather when did it happen
exactly what day did the line go straight and then turn downward
ever so slightly
there is some comfort in having friends with the same affliction

I am pulled back to the Ocean
drawn like an addict to the smell
every group of gulls
riding the shoreline
every hour slowed

I feel energy there
as the Sun lowers
as the children and fisherman return home
as the whispers of those gone before me
are carried by the ocean breeze
old age
1.3k · Jun 2017
a poet's death
how faint his final cry
how frail his last goodbye
plays on low as he drifts away
'song of the sandman lullabye'
he wraps himself in memories
he finds a dream and falls
the music on a constant loop
makes its way down hollow halls

morning light now finds no breath
the pen's ink soon to dry
his final words
his quiet death

'song of the sandman lullabye'
1.3k · Jan 2016
the poet returns
In the haunts of a shadow he dwells
unseen
so as not to surrender his stoic vision
unheard
eyeing his subject with cat-like secrecy
prowling among the broken souls
absorbed in the sorrow of the hopeless
destined to report on the status of pain

from his silent pulpit
to silent eyes
the poet returns
to affix a smile
1.3k · Jan 2016
heritage
In the fragile hands of my little girl
who knows not the agony of my years
nor realizes the joy she provides
the balance her innocence brings
she holds a picture
framed in red oak
figures in black and white
posing beneath a gray tree
which no longer provides shade
on a hill no longer there
she talks to them in almost silent whispers
those who were gone before knowing her first breath
those I miss so desperately
she sets the picture back in it's place
and for a moment looks achingly sad
'tell me about them Daddy'
she says
1.3k · Jun 2022
lettered olive
I took to the shore my final day
my final few hours
the Sun was low and the breeze had a coolness
though it was blistering hot earlier
I was watching an osprey returning from the ocean
a sizeable fish in it's claws
the beach was sparse this late
I relaxed and enjoyed the sounds and sheer beauty
of the Outer Banks
from my left I heard a light gasp that startled me
as I hadn't noticed her approaching
she spotted a lettered olive
as the sea gently lapped the shore
it was rolling back towards the next wave
but she managed to grab it just in time
a look of delight crossed her face
glowing like the Sun itself
'Nice find' I said
'those are tough to come by in that condition'
'they are my favorite'
her eyes sparkled blue and her auburn air
tied in a bobble hung far down her back
'nice to meet someone who still appreciates
the beauty of a sea shell'
I was hoping for a name but one didn't come
instead, she looked up
sent a gaze that ignited not shivers
but an energy down my spine
'If only everyone knew the beauty that lives here
It's nice to meet another who sees as well'
I started to respond, but she turned and continued down the beach
her white kimono lightly lapping with the ocean breeze
appeared to be from a time past
I turned my attention briefly to a group of pelicans
playing 'follow the leader' just above the waves
I could not let her go
I gathered enough courage to continue this chance meeting
but when I turned, she had disappeared
impossible
we are no less than 50 yards from the path off the beach
I just saw her less than 30 seconds...
I called out...but felt foolish
I tried to gather my thoughts
a light voice...or thought came as the breeze quieted
my name is Eve...
I walked the shoreline until it became too dark to stay
bewildered...I bid goodbye to the ocean and turned to leave
something caught my eye in the sand
amongst the thousands of shells on display
there lay a beautiful, perfect lettered olive
I will hold onto this one
just left the beach...always prompts a story
1.2k · Jan 2017
The Battle of the Wilderness
I never hear them when they speak
only hours later
in the painfully lit basement of my home
with earphones and patience
do their words reach me
such was the case last October
I was driving through Wilderness, Virginia
for the first time and happened to pass
Saunders Field and caught sight of the plaque
that stood at the bottom of the hill
and a trail that led into the woods
where the fierce skirmishes took place
it was a bit chilly and windy
and the road nearby was busy with passing cars
not an ideal place for an EVP session
but I felt compelled to try
and walked the edge of the woods
then a short portion of the trail
I asked many questions directly to anyone
who may be listening
'How many souls perished here?'
'Are you one of those souls?'
'Did you suffer?'
'Why do you stay or visit this place?'
as usual, I heard no voices during the 18 minutes
of questioning
however, the presence was undeniable
I was not alone here
this I knew
on the way back down the hill to leave
I reached out one final time;
'I have about 20 seconds left, so if you'd like
to say something, please say it now'
again I heard nothing, turned the recorder off
and departed

it was several days before I could return home
and review my recording
but my curiosity as always
grew stronger the longer I had to wait
I was disappointed as I began to listen
nothing heard as each minute passed
only the whisper of wind and cars
until I came to my final question in those last moments...
'I have about 20 seconds left, so if you'd like
to say something, please say it now.'

'Leave me under the ground........human'
I have been spirit seeking for about 3 years now after an experience with a spirit that completely hooked me on this phenomenon. I own numerous evp's and video recordings and will continue and increase my participation in this field upon my retirement later this year.
1.2k · Dec 2018
what's in a smile?
oh, the damage to be done to this soul
should the smile be evasive
elusive
feigned
why so unwilling to risk
if the smile not be immediate and sure
and without doubt
i have lost so many
to doubt
i am unwise in the ways of love
convinced that the connection i feel
is a false sign
that you are just being kind
to a lonely soul
what can i do when i fear my words will push you away
rather than pull you in
short of a whispered  'i love you' from your lips
i remain as lost as a glance in the dark
1.2k · Aug 2017
the foxcroft tree
my God
this tree
it fascinates me
it is alive I know it
it whispers when I pass
and bows in recognition
proud and hovering over the drive
like a gargoyle over the city
always there
always watching
a reminder that there are ghosts
that shadow us
that wait for us to notice them

and now the tree is gone
toppled onto the road
and removed
like an old soldier
that served well
but just fades away
all but forgotten

now I am gone
after 11 years of watching over this property
brothers of the night
we were
it has taken a piece of me to it's grave
what a wonderful coincidence to discover that when I look up  
one of my two favorite words
threshold
it is linked to my other favorite word
phenomenon
but my life is laced with coincidence
my third favorite word
they happen daily
like itches

for instance,
today I did a wikipedia search for Ezra Pound
because my poetry student daughter fell in love with one of his pieces
I find that from 1945 to 1958
Mr Pound was incarcerated at St Elizabeth's Psychiatric Hospital in Washington D.C. after being found incompetent to stand trial
for treason against the United States
my father worked at St Elizabeth's hospital for 30 years
including the 12 that Mr. Pound was a patient
my father, who kept his poetry hidden in a little black book

I have a vision of him
young at the time
enamored with the 60 plus year-old poet
seeking him out and finding him
resting outside at one of the tables
enjoying the simplicity and intricacies of nature
and perhaps they have a chat about poetry...
my father having a chat with Ezra Pound
70 years before his granddaughter falls in love
with one of his poems
a poem already written and filed away somewhere in the memory of a once beloved poet

threshold: the magnitude or intensity that must be exceeded for a certain reaction, phenomenon, result or condition to occur or be manifested.
“nothing happens until the signal passes the threshold”
Many thanks to Jamadhi verse, who's poem 'Threshold' ispired this piece and to my daughter Jenna who discovered Ezra Pound
1.2k · Mar 2016
The Final Walk at Auschwitz
The footsteps come
and he knows
though his throat is dry as dust
and his body ravaged
he knows
it is his turn
eyes sunken and glazed
give no hint that this is welcomed knowledge
he clings to the energy of memories
that somehow remain clear
his life unfolds in thought
the cry of his firstborn
the warmth of his only love

the footsteps come to a stop
he wonders if this staunch, stone face of the soldier
that now stands before him has ever known such love
he is able to get to his feet and accepts no help
he nods to the living corpses that remain
vacant of hope
awaiting their turn
outside he manages to raise his eyes toward what little Sun
finds its way through the dense cloud of humanity
it seems to give him strength
he mutters 'vergeben ihre seelen' as he makes his way towards the showers
the soldier hears
pauses for just a moment
and continues on
vergeben ihre seelen (forgive their souls)
1.1k · Sep 2017
fade
everything begins to fade
ice melts in the Sun
the delicate heart will seek the shade
when tears of lost love run
they drip into the stream of sorrow
that carry them away
lost at sea come tomorrow
when the moon submits to day
1.1k · Aug 2018
Library - 1862 - 1916
ah! the title catches your eye
just enough Sun sneaking through
you have arrived
where few have ventured
take hold of these pages
and turn slowly
so as not to allow the dust
to choke you
yellow corners and broken binding
only serve to add
to the moment
alone here
discover the dreams
locked away
in this forgotten room
wipe your spectacles clean
for the light is dim
and the air is thick
pull up the chair that has awaited you
these many years
absorb these words
for here you can think
here you can feel the story
share with me your thoughts
my soul knows yours
my dormant heart reborn
the air stirs as you turn that first page
read for me my kindred spirit
let me hear your whisper
echo down these solemn halls
06/07 - revised
1.1k · Sep 2018
vanquish
and in the days that are now few
nights hold old dreams
hope is a vanquished relic
the attic fills with
the memories of moments
that can never be renewed
or recaptured
I crave the flashes
of a long ago lover's smile
her touch, her whispers
accepting the ache
that shadows these moments I summon

I will not let them pass so easily
I will hold dear the gift of love
the gift of life
upon my return
and in the days that are now few
I speak with ghosts
10/2007 - kept 1st 2 lines and totally revised the rest
1.1k · Apr 2016
edge
i skirt the edge of reality
yet i remain sane
for i know it is there
and should i dare
decide aware
that i should re enter where
dead eyes stare
where mother's bear the weight
of their children's pain
and pray that rain will keep them safe
away from sin
stave the devil let the Lord settle in
which direction do i take
is it life or something like it
where's the line between real and fake
give and take
love and make
love
bless me father for I have sinned
i have walked with the dead and scorned the living
i have sacrificed life for my true soul is giving
to those that reside on the other side
the spirits taken from flesh and blood
from life and love in fire and flood
i speak to them in darkness true
they know me in this in-between
where space from life to death is seen
i hear their voices
i see their light
in the comfort of our trusted night
allow these few moments to remain
for they find comfort in my pain
1.1k · Jan 2016
The Finer Lines
In the finer lines of my Mother's eyes
where backroads lead to secret tears
much is spoken when one explores
the map that etches those many years

expressed in smiles and subtle stares
when the world is harsh and cruel
calm washes through your tested soul
that stings of ridicule

in the finer lines of my Mother's eyes
life's riches are retained
and the wells that feed her loving child
through those eyes are sustained
1.1k · Jun 2016
it's just the wind
I can see it all so clear
as the wind from the oncoming storm
ravages the trees on the Northern side of the mountain
as if trying to uproot them

I gaze from above on Bear's Den
as Connor Brooks tries to finish the mowing
on his 40 acres and Molly's cries for him
to get inside before dinner gets cold
echo upwards in waves
beautiful waves

The Village Market
serves the last few customers
before closing up for the evening
Birdman, Mike and Fuzzy,
all friends since high school
are stopping at the Horseshoe Curve
for a glass or three
while discussing their shared memories

and of-course
Sarah...scurrying to get the clothes off the line
before the downpour
unaware her every sensual move is being watched
by the unlucky poet
who didn't quite grasp the moment
and reap the harvest
that lay there awaiting his attention
so many years have passed


timing never was something that seemed to fall my way
always seemed to be a day behind
realizing what I should have done
the day before
most things you get over
most missed chances eventually dissolve into the blur of life
like a bruise

Sarah never dissolved
never blurred

she hesitates for a moment after picking up the basket of clothes
as if she heard a far off voice call her name

it's just the wind
1.1k · Aug 2018
slip silent
slip silent into the mist
a darkness lurks
behind your kiss
your smile now vacant
scaring me
slip silent into the sea

turn slowly out of my hold
your warming skin
has now gone cold
your dreams elusive
floating free
slip silent into the sea

I'm drowning in these unseen waves
the darkness pitch
as pauper's graves
the love that breathed new life in me
slips silent into the sea
2005
1.1k · Sep 2018
Spitzler
I begin my walk
on the circled asphalt path
behind the old Lutheran church
founded in 1790
the crickets chirp
a defiant roar
as I descend upon their quiet space
clouds are dark and a bit threatening
are they spirits taking form above me?
mistral winds on a windless day
seem to gather and fuse into words
sentences
held for a moment...clear
then lost to fuzzy and distorted whispers
'They are here...'
'Isaac'
'Listen to me...I must ****'
'I have an angel'
'power'

before departing
I stop at a headstone
I'm not sure why
but I attempt
to pronounce the last name of this departed soul
3 times
on the 3rd try I am interrupted by a young boy
who corrects me with the proper pronunciation
I turn at the gate and advise the spirits
that I am leaving
a friendly 'okay' came back to me

my God
I have walked in the living room of the dead
upon review of my 20 minute evp session in this cemetery, I came upon more than 30 anomalies including several direct responses. I have been doing this since 2013 and have never approached the level of activity I received on this walk. The response I got when pronouncing the last name on the headstone and being corrected...may be the one most fascinating evp I have ever captured.
1.0k · Nov 2018
down the valley
it left one night
when the wind was unusually heavy
and the air was biting cold
it is brutal this high
in late December

I felt it go
making it's way down the hall
and lingering at the door
for an unusually long period of time
I cared not that the snow was deep
and the wood was thick
the whispers of your fleeing love
could not be heard above the deafening roar
of Winter in these mountains
I stopped to listen or to see something,
anything between the gusts and the landing flakes

I had been gone an unusually long time
as you watched from the bedroom window
by the time you made the call
after finishing your coffee
the tears had long since frozen to my skin
and my pleas had long since echoed down the valley
11/07/18
1.0k · Mar 2017
in the rain
I'm covered in the stain of my own past regressions
I'm buried in the pain of old and new obsessions
I'm crying out in vain, can you hear my confessions
I'm smiling in the rain to hide these tears
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