cup's bottom swig

Delicious renditions of swirling colors and lights delight.
Hailing winds of song prevail in the mornings sight.
Wishing stars to move through my summer moods, solstice to appear, nights laying beneath the blanket of, sparkles and flesh.
A conundrum, a must, a do, a want.
Hallelujah for answers and unexpectedness.

Gray

The sun barely shone through the window this morning. My craving for coffee was great. I listened and thought long. I reached into the innermosts for somehow to express what is in my head right now. What to say? What to say? I think what I want to say is that we all have been hurt. What we do with the hurt makes us or breaks us. Some of us become teachers, learning from our sadness, and caring the weight and being stronger for it. Others wear the hurt like a suit of armor and never take it off again. My armor is being shed. I feel good again.

Inside and Out

Today is mother's day. I don't have to look at the calendar to know it. I can feel it hanging overhead. I am several hundred miles north of my mother. I can probably guess what she did this morning. I can see her saunter down the hallway, getting up for something from the kitchen despite her ailments. She's probably enjoying warmer weather than I, and she might have stepped outside for a smoke and watched the dogs saunter about as well. I sent her a card. It was put out with the post on Thursday. I'm sure it didn't make it on time. The card I picked up at the bookstore. It was a simple card. On the outside of the card, a black and white photo of woman's hands holding an array of buttons. The inside of the card was sappy, I liked it. "She taught me how to love the simple things....."...something to that affect. And I do enjoy the simple things. Coffee on Sundays, sleeping in, lounging, updating this blog, thinking about a corresponding photo for this post. I played with a large mason jar of buttons my mom had when I was a kid. It was one of my favorite past times as she sat sewing. I'm happy to have found that card to remind me of these things.

la luna

Little rant, green eggs and ham

Weird On a Plate

"I did not move for furry cakes.
I did not move for ham bakes.
I did not move for a straight cloak. I did move to find hope.
I say, is that weird on my plate?
I didn't order this!
You can't make me taste it! I will never like it. It looks funny, it walks funny, it looks happy. It looks mildly great.
Well fine. I will just try a little. I will eat it with some toast. Okay just a bite. Don't push me. Here it goes.
Mm, hmm, ah...hum. Yes, yes! Yes I declare. I moved here for this. I ordered this! This tastes good. It feels right. Right as rain. Right down to my soul. I embrace this face. This marvelous taste!
Mmmm, mmmm, mmm. May I have another plate? Give me some more weird on a plate!"

About the nature of women

I was trying to think of something terribly witty to say about the nature of women. But I don't have the words. Mostly I utter the word "crazy". So I searched for inspiration. Here are a few quotes that did it for me. They are all good, but the last one makes me smile.


"The reason novelists nearly always fail in depicting women when they make them act, is that they let them do what they have observed some woman has done at some time or another. And that is where they make a mistake; for a woman will never do again what has been done before." - Mark Twain

“How can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being.” -Oscar Wilde

“Give a woman an inch and she thinks she's a ruler” -Unknown

"A woman can say more in a sigh than a man can say in a sermon." ~Arnold Haultain

....The two women exchanged the kind of glance women use when no knife is handy. ~Ellery Queen

"Next to the wound, what women make best is the bandage." ~Jules Barbey d'Aurevilly

"A pessimist is a man who thinks all women are bad. An optimist is a man who hopes they are." ~Chauncey Mitchell Depew

"The rarest thing in the world is a woman who is pleased with photographs of herself." ~Elizabeth Metcalf

"There is a special place in hell for women who do not help other women." ~Madeleine K. Albright

"A man's face is his autobiography. A woman's face is her work of fiction." ~Oscar Wilde

"There's something luxurious about having a girl light your cigarette. In fact, I got married once on account of that". ~Harold Robbins

"Women keep a special corner of their hearts for sins they have never committed." ~Cornelia Otis Skinner

Bye and Bye by Bob Dylan

Bye and bye, I'm breathin' a lover's sigh I'm sittin' on my watch so I can be on time I'm singin' love's praises with sugar-coated rhyme Bye and bye, on you I'm casting my eye I'm paintin' the town - swinging my partner around I know who I can depend on, I know who to trust I'm watchin' the roads, I'm studying the dust I'm paintin' the town, making my last go-round Well, I'm scufflin' and I'm shufflin' and I'm walkin' on briars I'm not even acquainted with my own desires I'm rollin' slow - I'm doing all I know I'm tellin' myself I found true happiness That I've still got a dream that hasn't been repossessed I'm rollin' slow, goin' where the wild roses grow Well the future for me is already a thing of the past You were my first love and you will be my last Papa gone mad, mamma, she's feeling sad I'm gonna baptize you in fire so you can sin no more I'm gonna establish my rule through civil war Gonna make you see just how loyal and true a man can be

I want cheetos

See, I was a vegan for about three or four years. When my significant other and I had a tiff I would run to the comfort of cheese. I have been eating without the vegan monkey on my back since late September '07 and tonight I looked to my pantry for some Cheetos. But there aren't any so instead I sit here and listen to George Lopez and drink my Mirror Pond and consider the thought of running tomorrow morning before the sun comes up, but instead I will rest my poor knees and be happy that I can see a Saturday and relax. Maybe low-impact yoga would be better? Gotta go, remembered I have a crunch bar in my backpack!

Death

Eyes Fastened with Pins

How much death works,
No one knows what a long
Day he puts in. The little
Wife always alone
Ironing death's laundry.
The beautiful daughters
Setting death's supper table.
The neighbors playing
Pinochle in the backyard
Or just sitting on the steps
Drinking beer. Death,
Meanwhile, in a strange
Part of town looking for
Someone with a bad cough,
But the address somehow wrong,
Even death can't figure it out
Among all the locked doors...
And the rain beginning to fall.
Long windy night ahead.
Death with not even a newspaper
To cover his head, not even
A dime to call the one pining away,
Undressing slowly, sleepily,
And stretching naked
On death's side of the bed.

-Charles Simic