I am not a poet. I have a beat. I have an attitude.
I have been beat ~ down
I have been lifted up ~
I have placed my weight so far out, that I hindered my chances ~ a brief encounter
stalked by an engagement of force that left me
waiting for breath
I am not a poet.
I
I have the power, within myself, to change. My mother use to always say, “a leopard can’t change it’s spots.” It made me feel locked into my life’s patterns; to the most negative aspects of my psyche.
I had to have help realizing that, I am not a leapord, and I can change. As it turns out, I am a turtle.
In my last writing, I posted my previous life’s commentary, in a short and incomplete manner. I have a plethora of questions going around a race track at a syrupy slow pace. I tell me self to not think. It was too much for me, so I found a positive image and slapped it on the page. Continue reading This is Not a Dress Rehearsal
Guilty!
Phantasmagoria ~ noun
a sequence of real or imaginary images like those seen in a dream
We create our realities. That’s what “they” say.
Act as if it already is. Continue reading Peace, Love and Harmony
The only pictures I have are in my head.
I was hanging out at Jax Beach.I remember where I was on my birthday, because I had the thought, more than once; 25 is a quarter of a century. And like only the young can do; I believed that to be a long time.
I was thin, with long, wavy hair. I was on a spree of sorts. T was the drug of the day. Continue reading When I was 25
Life can be confusing. I re-play the tapes and ask myself, have I done the right thing? In the end, I let it go. The questions with no definitive answers, become a dark, cavernous maze. It’s a waste of time. Or is it? How do we learn, if we don’t question? Continue reading Is it the way in ~ or the way out?
Word Press inquires, do I want more traffic? My answer to them is no. There is plenty of hustle and bustle in the world, and my blog is off the beaten path.
I am a like a “broken record”, an antiquated term from age, old technology.
I’m busy seeking serenity. You can find it deep in your heart and under the nearest shade tree.
Find it now, or find it later.
Highway 90
Traveling through Georgia, in a rusted Toyota, I had the chance to stair out of the window for hours. I saw a lot of what people call nothing; fields and trees, old barns and dangerous looking machinery. The Willacoochee River makes me think of cotton-mouth moccassins and the silence of canoes.
But when I saw this car, I saw a ferris wheel and dart games, the drive in movies, and a drag race. There was a chocolate covered ice-cream cone at the Tastee Freeze, drive-thru.
Daddy Let You Mind Roll On ~
*In the back x-tra cab, I had my Canon and a few lenses. But I walked down an embankment, smelling the stench, of a rotting carcass, with my iPhone 4 in hand.
*Instagram might take days.
*Why be in a hurry, to go nowhere.
Fish Eye Farm 