Into the edge
Of the forgotten tomorrow.
Faster than the
Flights of dreams.
Come my heart.
More powerful than
This vacant, dusty
Fantasy. Enrichment
Filled senses
Collapse into
Mindlessness.
I dig computers
Lessons learned about life; pearls of wisdom I’ve gleaned through pain, failure and honest reflection
Into the edge
Of the forgotten tomorrow.
Faster than the
Flights of dreams.
Come my heart.
More powerful than
This vacant, dusty
Fantasy. Enrichment
Filled senses
Collapse into
Mindlessness.
This week continues
Finish yesterday’s missed stuff.
Little creation.
As today is World Poetry Day, I offer up this contribution:
Shall we celebrate power?
Speaking conscience to the brutal.
When nothing else can resist.
Words sharper than swords?
Or those words capturing love?
That exquisite, maddening
Sensation. Delightful, painful,
No greater sorrow, or pleasure.
Poetry, indefinable, glorious
Mystery. Savor this moment
For soon we shall recommence
Our most divine torment.
I shall explore life
It shall implode within me
Now only myself
Intense dizziness
Micro brutality wins
Sunlight climbs mountains
I sit, awaiting
The unique joy of week’s end
Such tranquility
I SO want to be able to do this:

The amount of fitness growth needed is hard to imagine. But, hey, who knows? I think it’s doable, just whether I have the gumption to pull it off. Still, I find it inspiring.
I SO want to be able to do this:

The amount of fitness growth needed is hard to imagine. But, hey, who knows? I think it’s doable, just whether I have the gumption to pull it off. Still, I find it inspiring.
Now, the week’s center
Mystical place of balance
Sunlight drifts forwards
I consider myself a western Washingtonian, even though Mr. Ron Rudd might not.
“If you weren’t born in Seattle or the Northwest, you’ll never be one of us.”
Though born in Rhode Island, my parents were born in Washington, as were all my grandparents. My father and his mother were born in Seattle. Next: my parents met at UW. And I was supposed to be born in Seattle, but my timetable was a bit off-kilter. The family was in Rhode Island as my father attended the War College. So, I guess if I must be disqualified from “one of us” status, I’ll accept the consequences of my father’s service with pride.
Deeper: why do I consider this place “home”? Well, the biggest reason was that we always called it home. Flying out to Seattle was always “going home to visit grandma” (sorry grandpa, but it was always “to visit grandma”.
Lastly, this is the place we moved when my dad decided to retire from the Navy. And where I’ve lived the vast majority of my life here. Lastly, there’s the simple fact I love it here.
Please note: I’m hardly offended by Mr. Rudd. Actually, I find him quite witty, and the piece is quite clever. It did give me pause to consider, though. Which is worth a heap of oysters, shucked by hand along the Edmonds beach: my happy place.