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A visit to my teacher's house,
While he's talking,
I wounder where the ducks go in winter.

Been expelled,
Better go to the dormitory,
A rage of jealously,
I attack my room mate,
****** nose, hunting hat
Back to front,
I head for New York.

Booking into a hotel,
I dance with three girls,
Pay for their drinks
And off they go,
The elevator guy,
Offers me a girl, I agree,
she knocked at my door!
But I'm a ******, you see,
So we just talk.

I decided to go home, to see my sister, don't want to see my parents, so
I silently enter, go to her room,
She's sleeping so I wake her,
"Why are you home?"
I tell my tale,
"Dad will go crazy!"
Kids tell it straight,
I tell her to meet me later, at the
Museum, off I go, without a sound.

Waiting for my sister,
Watching how people act,
What happens when we grow up?
Most are phonies to me.
I see my sister, so carefree and real,
Do you want to ride the
carousel?
She's so happy, as we arrive,
Picking her favourite horse,
Time to take a ride.

So I'm just busy here watching the wheels
Go round and round,
No longer riding on the merry-go-round,
I'd had some dark thoughts
About what to do next,
But this song came into my mind,
And I just had to let it go,
I'll take my sister home,
Tell mum and dad,
Start a new school
Life ain't to bad.
Sometimes I write poetry
most times it writes me.

Showing me things 
I need to see.

Things I need to acknowledge
to be a better man.

Not to change the world, 
but to change what I can.

Most often times
it's a change in me,
A reflection of a man 
I don't want to see.

Sometimes I write poetry,
most times it writes me.

And the more that I write
the more I'll like what I see.

And maybe someday
if I write well enough,

The man in the mirror
will smile back at me.
Today, early on a
Saturday morning, I'm
trying a little trick I
learned from Bukowski.
I put on some classical
music and I am trying
to write.
Beethoven's 5th in C minor.

I sit in my favorite chair and
watch my black cat lie on the
back of the loveseat and
watch the snowfall.
She looks triumphant,
but it could just be the music.
The philodendrons that hang
around the house and the
bamboo plants seem happier, too.
There's no hope for the palm tree.

Well, the main thing is that I put the
pen to paper, and Beethoven,
my cat and you came along for the
ride.

Maybe the cellos, violins, and
trombones will fertilize my
creativity.
Now, my other two cats have joined
the fun.
They wrestle by the heater and laugh at
all the fat, rich *******.
I just did a podcast out of Vietnam.  It was cool.  Here's a link.
https://www.facebook.com/ondra.nemcik.75/videos/1031040335582922

Here is a link to my brand new poetry reading I did on You tube.
everything’s complicated
everything’s a struggle
have you noticed?
it’s a psychological horror
is this feeling the ‘adult disillusionment’ I keep hearing about?

I mean, things work, if you sit on them like an egg—
if your mother things along and helicopter a result.
I mean, what do people do who don't have
my resources and sunny disposition?

I get America’s increasing paranoia but I think that it's *** backwards. Even if someone's were out to ‘get’ you, no one actually cares about doing their job anymore. There's just so little competence around, that the dysfunction feels intentional. And because you need something and you’re helpless, you can't help but feel targeted.

But I think I figured it out, so let me elucidate—they aren't giving YOU bad service, it isn't personal—everyone is getting bad service, two pieces of chicken in the box when you ordered three, five day delivery when you’re clearly paying for two, failure’s become routine—endemic.

My go-to phrase has become, “What’ll it cost?” (the answer, usually: twice as much) “Make it so,” I say, swiping something with my Apple Watch, and suddenly, everything works!
.
.
A song for this:
decide to be happy by MisterWives
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 03/29/25:
Elucidate = to make something clear and easy to understand

My ex-navy stepfather always says, “Make it so,” it’s an old navy phrase that means, ‘proceed’
I
I
I have Everything
Yet  I have Nothing….

I think I control
Yet I Follow.

I think …….
Yet …..
The house is getting on in years, I know it needs a few repairs,
And I won’t deny there’s dust in every room.

But I still can’t calm my fears they’ll use The Bomb to sweep the
   stairs,
When really all that’s needed is a dustpan and a broom.
Attempting humor in the midst of disaster.
In the light of Easter morning
The stone remained unmoved.
Unsure of what to do at first, we waited
Then we tried to push it clear—
It wouldn’t move.

We watched throughout the afternoon,
Most left by by three, a few remained—
We didn’t hope, but didn’t leave.
By six the sun was setting,
When the darkness reached the stone
The day was done and we were weeping—
And the stone remained unmoved.



3/25/2024
The basic image has been in my head for over 50 years, although my response to it has changed.
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