Posted on March 6, 2011 at 9:28 PM |
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Dames and guns. Oh buddy, don’t get me started. They’re a lot alike. Smooth curves, form and function, enjoyable to fondle, and either can put a smile on your face. Ergonomics aside, without a firm grip and an minimum of respect, either can bitch-slap you too. With both, the bite is worse than the bark: stitches optional. And the scars, physical or emotional, they’re with you for the long haul.
I’ll admit I can’t live without either. I prefer the company of...
Read Full Post »Posted on January 11, 2011 at 11:05 PM |
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A few years ago I decided to take my two teenage boys up Big Fall Creek and show them the house I lived in when I was twelve years old.
"Yep. She's right around this corner, boys", I said, as we broke into a clearing alongside the road.
Where the old house used to set was nothing but waist high grass. The structure had long ago fallen sideways into a pile of bleached timbers, the shingled roof covered with a carpet of lush moss.
"That p...
Read Full Post »Posted on January 11, 2011 at 6:13 PM |
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.....and waves of unfiltered grain, with free bubbles for the children, a choice of donated organs, free of combat wounds, tattoos, piercings, and flu shots for all, (note that some restrictions may apply, or if you are pregnant, thinking of becoming pregnant, or thinking of getting someone pregnant, do not take orally, or apply to those non-solar exposed areas, rebates and registration fees, taxes, and photos may be required), unlimited shouting from any elevation above 1,000 feet, without a...
Read Full Post »Posted on January 6, 2011 at 1:46 PM |
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I pledge allegiance to the flags of the United States of America, Guam, and Puerto Rico, and to the republic and territorial pocessions for which they stand, nations under God, Allah, Budda, and various minority divinitive religions, indivisible, with liberty, cable and internet acess, and justice for all, including aliens and medical research clones.
Posted on October 22, 2010 at 6:17 PM |
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Liquid ambrosia entered through the time-worn pusshole, filling the tunnels with fluid dreams. Surging heat flowed along useless tissue, while bubbles blipped and blurped from the dying synapses last spark.
Posted on October 3, 2010 at 9:38 PM |
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Jason Saunders laid his small backpack on the dining room table and began a quick inventory. Satisfied with the contents, he stepped into the hallway where he could see his wife seated in front of the TV. “I’m off for my walk, Hon. See you later,” Jason said.
Muriel’s eyes never left the TV as her head tilted slightly towards Jason. “What, dear?” she said.
“I’m heading to the refuge, back in a few hours,R...
Read Full Post »Posted on September 23, 2010 at 10:26 PM |
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Peppe Mahldolvi walked a half mile each day to a bench located at the crossroads. Three separate roads leading from the Mahldolvi valley met at this point before continuing through the foothills to the port city of Sesimbra. He would leave his home each day around 11 am. Stopping along the way to visit with friends and neighbors, he would arrive at the bench in time for a lengthily rest and lunch. At ninety years of age, Peppe was in no hurry.
Peppe enjoyed this few hours e...
Read Full Post »Posted on September 18, 2010 at 9:55 PM |
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With one sheet of paper
And colored pencils too
I rely on memory
To draw a sketch of you
In just a few strokes
A faint ghost appears
An angel of beauty
That rolls back the years
Your hair gently flowing
With a hint of breeze
Ears, nose and chin are
Quickly drawn with ease
The smile I draw always
Brightens up my day
Lips full and lovely as
If it were yesterday
The eyes will say and tell...
Read Full Post »Posted on September 18, 2010 at 9:48 PM |
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I think of you
from time
to time
try to remember
way back when
how it came to be
what truly was
and of course
what could have been
That special moment
long ago
your smile
those blue eyes
my heart abliss
could there ever be
such a moonlit night
my heart throbbing
our first kiss
What if we could
roll back the clock
one chance to cheat
old Fathe...
Read Full Post »Posted on September 14, 2010 at 3:17 PM |
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Twas a sunny day
on the meadow
gathering wildflowers
between her toes
when the skinny freak
approached with
his ukelele
and crooked nose
He tiptoed through
her arrangement
singing a high-pitched
tune
until her ears
bled with crackle
and eyes atwinkle
began to swoon
She smashed his uke
upon both heads
and scratched
his eyes clean out
"Teach ya to
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