Lost in the great ether of WordPress. It probably was more like saved by the great ether. I worked for an hour last night writing a new blog entry. Pictures and everything. I should’a but I didn’t SOS. That is “Save Often Stupid”. That is an axiom from the old days of the 80’s of dealing with more finicky and memory challenged computers.
My blog was brilliant. I even used the word – pontificating. I’ve been waiting months to use that word. I could have gone on for hours justifying its use. After the entire entry was lost, I realized I could not recreate it with the same punch as the original. I really couldn’t remember half of what I had written so brilliantly. So I have found another writing axiom, which is “If your new blog entry is accidentally deleted and you can’t remember more than half of what you had originally written, then the entry probably wasn’t worth reading anyway.” (that is really too long for an axiom, it should be “if all is deleted then screw it!”).
Such is the life of John
I once knew a man in blue jeans that rode wild horses,
sang loud songs and drank cheap sour whiskey.
He went to his grave in a suit that he had never worn
as we listened to music he had never heard
and we toasted his life with thin stemmed glasses he never drank from.
I once knew a man who taught me to climb mountains,
to talk to strangers and to use my hands to fix broken things.
He died not from a high fall or from a miss-tied rope
but silently in his bed alone with swollen joints and sore stiff knuckles.
and a failing broken heart that could not be fixed.
I know a man who writes words and sweet poems,
loves his home and strong family
and lives to fly high into the light evening winds.
When he dies, we will surround him with his sweet family
We will read his tender words and verses,
We will cast his ashes into the light evening winds.
Posted: July 20, 2014 in free verse, politics
Although the cause is scattered for all to see
The same questions are asked
as if expecting different answers
from black knit covered mouths
and missing black boxes
that still can not explain the insanity.
But resting in chairs with shoes still tied
and socks untouched are quiet voices
still clinging to appointment books,
stuffed animals and round trip tickets.
Mistakenly gone because of a miss-taken invisible route
Caused by ignorant men made lethal
by a bristling over-reaching world.
Posted: July 17, 2014 in Everyday Life
“Wranglers are the only acceptable jeans. Lee jeans are scoffed at, and if you wear Levi’s, you are a dude. Cowboy hats, straw for summer, felt for winter, black hats are for wannabes. The belt buckle, you can determine a cowboy’s level of achievement by his belt buckle. So basically, cowgirls can look at the cowboy’s buckle all she wants but the cowboys better be just stealing a glance.”
That’s how a friend in Woodward, OK described the proper cowboy rodeo attire. He also mentioned that they like driving Chevy Silverado pickups, any year, any condition, as long as it has a hitch for their horse trailer. He didn’t mention cowboy boots. But everyone knows that those athletic shoes made to look like cowboy boots aren’t allowed on the fairgrounds.
I learned this a couple of years ago when I was sent to Woodward, OK to work on some telephone equipment. After I arrived I found there were no motel rooms in town or in the surrounding areas due to the rodeo being in full swing. That didn’t surprise me, having once lived in both Woodward, OK and Dodge City, I understood the significance of the event. So I had to spend the night in my Toyota Tundra, with no cowboy hat to cover my eyes, wearing Lee’s jeans with a belt buckle a cowgirl wouldn’t take a second look at.
Since then I have acquired a Silverado pickup and through the month of July, I have kept the proper attire stashed in the truck in case I have to make the better impression at the front desks in the motel lobbies. July is rodeo month throughout Oklahoma, Texas and Kansas.
And all of this time I thought you could tell the experienced cowgirls and boys only by how well they negotiated the arena’s bleachers.
Such is the life of John
Posted: July 13, 2014 in Everyday Life
I am noticing something. The cell phone, I’m sorry, they are called smart phones now, are getting bigger. Remember when they were shouting the praises of miniature electronics. Now they are approaching the size of the early PC Tablets. How do ya make a call using those huge things.
So I have decided to join the lunacy where it counts. I am resurrecting my jumbo sized calculator and my man-sized TV remote control. I’m tired of losing track of my remotes. And I’m tired of using my smartphone’s virtual and physical keypad keys as an improvised calculator. My fingers are way bigger than what they accommodate.
As the picture shows, both of these beauties are of the size that makes them the most usable and UN-losable gadgets of the home. Yes, they are both totally functional plus the heat they give off can keep you cozy and warm while watching those old late show movies on those cold winter nights.
I feel that from the time that the earth was no more than a smoking swirling ball of hot mud my course was set.
Oh I do different things each day and make decisions whether to turn right or left eat high fiber low-fat or suck up liters of caffeine rich watered down CO2 induced sirup while deciding to say Hi how are ya brother or just fuck you but my course is set from the time I wake up from my miserable sleep at 3 am until I pull off my shirt pants and socks and crash into the tight sheets of that motel room mattress all the time trying to believe life is comfortable the food is good and I will live forever. A middle class chump working my 10 hours each day pulling together a living trying to impress the man just earning that lucky dollar I wish I could stuff into every birthday card I keep telling myself I will send each year. Just waiting for the day I will take my last breath crap my pants and be carried out feet first just to go up into a blast of white smoke and poured into a brass urn with a screwed on lid. The final screw.
What else do we do?
( to learn about E, read About)
Posted: July 9, 2014 in poetry
Tags: free verse, writing
Where it begins
the sentence the verse the thought
the hesitant ink
pressing the pen hard to the corner of the page
scribbling to get the letters flowing
The first w the h the e then r and e
Words from stuttered syllables
of rhythm, of near rhyme
a pause here …. a space a new line
A moan ….. a sentence is spilled
and a thought is born