Lucita clearly wasn't a beauty.
Her grade school features were unrefined,
Awkward, plain, unattractive….
(I'm trying not to be unkind.)

Her classmates loved--as many kids do--
To find people's faults and then make fun of them.
Lucita's classmates tormented her;
I know because I was one of them.

I didn't say mean things about her,
Tease her or call her a horrible name.
My silence, however, made me complicit;
Because of my silence, I shared their shame.

How often are we silent when
We see injustice right before us?
Do we fear becoming involved
Or hope that the "evil" will ignore us?

History shows what happens to people
When others stay silent and don't speak out.
Only by standing up to injustice
Can real change come about.

Lucita didn't stay long at the school.
I think her family moved away.
I'm sure the kids found someone else
To taunt, belittle, pester, and flay.

I hope that for Lucita a happy,
Fulfilling life has been her reward;
I hope the once gawky duckling
Opened her beautiful wings and soared.

- by Bob B

So not to surface after a torrent aunt Lorrell  was buried nine feet
deep on a hillside in a rural cemetery next to relatives with headstones
of Pauline, Bebbe, Margaux,  and Bror—common French and Swedish names.

Our bodies are temporary blossoms; family history says
Lorrell had four *******, Bebbe a glass eye,
and Margaux webbed toes.

I await.

Writing is like falling in love; scary, stunning, difficult, amazing, big sweeping gestures, and falling from a plane... but it's worth it.

Oh! to live! the eternal present!
embodying fully the spirit
of a man in the moment.

I had to think twice about thinking twice which was twice the work for an old work horse and
if nature truly runs its course then of course it must be true that pondering on the imponderables is a noble thing to do.

You and I know
that to go around in circles is a total waste of time
but we do it all the time which wastes more time and not being one for waste or time I found it easier to go in a straight line,
not a flat line because that's something different.

Any dimension you like is the dimension that does it for me.

Space
lots of it even in the little bit of what I see and what is a galaxy anyway?
just another chocolate like the milky way or Mars bar which is not too far off the mark,
in an inn in the dark and so am I, where
a pint of beer and a pie is my cup of tea
(sounds a bit Alice to me)
confused?
I always was.

If you had to think twice every time that you thought
I'd think twice about thinking at all