Laborious Poetry

From throngs of angry communists
who longed for Bar-B-Ques
we’ve been gifted something dear
though I’m not sure of its use
A “holiday” devoid of fun
Lacking gifts or songs to sing
ironic that on Labor Day
we sit home and do nothing.

Always be learning

We must be learning if we are to feel fully alive, and when life, or love, becomes too predictable and it seems like there is little left to learn, we become restless – a protest, perhaps, of the plastic brain when it can no longer perform its essential task. Dr. Norman Doidge – The Brain …

Going For a Walk

Most mornings around 6:00am I go for a walk in my neighborhood. I always thought I was getting out fairly early and felt a little self-righteous that I was the only one out and about. I figured no one else was willing to get up and get out early like I was. Then, this morning …

No More Sundays

For several months now I’ve been posting something to the blog every day of the week. I’ve made it a point to create something (prose, poem, drawing, photograph) new every day and share it. But lately I’ve been feeling like weekend posting is too much. Even something good like writing can benefit from a disruption …