Cur lassitudine tuum animo, quoniam id est
- December 31
- IT Analyst by trade, cynic by experience, hopeless romantic by curse.
MY RECENT POSTS
- Easy Off pt5
September 29, 2013 10:09PM
- Easy Off pt4
September 22, 2013 06:32PM
- Easy Off pt3
September 21, 2013 03:46PM
- Easy Off pt 2
September 20, 2013 03:55AM
- Easy Off
September 18, 2013 03:06PM
MY RECENT COMMENTS
- “Spot-on analysis.
Unfortunately, since around
2005 the IT
November 25, 2013 06:03PM
- “>I picked it up with
sticky fromage fingers that
hold the gorilla
November 07, 2013 12:41PM
- “> I could see her
standing there, tending to
with arms akimbo and
November 07, 2013 12:12PM
- “Anchors at bay? or
in corn meal are
November 07, 2013 11:33AM
- “I came to see a food
And a temperance
lecture broke out.
(as a pie f…”
November 06, 2013 02:36PM
- MY LINKS - Ghosts of OS past 2009-2010
“What’s going on Penny? You said you needed to discuss some sort of private communication coming out of the Chinese Trade Ministry?”
… Read full post »
Yet they are both Myrmidons to their singular obsessions; for… Read full post »
"Ummm, honey? You're doing it again."
"You're mumbling, you know that's one of my pet peeves."
"Yeah, I know. I was recalling a discussion I had at last year's prayer breakfast with Rabbi Cahn."
"The one about the oven?"
"I told you?"
"Just in passing, so I went and lo/… Read full post »
tibia sobre hollejo frío
la hoguera que encumbre mis mercerías
un hálito de calor que disimula
el vaho de varón espejismo
mis labios acogen tu aliento
acullá tiniebla me conmueve un escalofrío
es la penumbra de tu alejamiento; se lleva
la fayuca que fue m/… Read full post »
I had flown her to where I was/… Read full post »
His wounds had metastasized into his much loved sister's words, written on the paper he was holding in his hands. Like the flesh that had been ripped from his body and left to desiccate in the sands of Iraq, he could see the effect that war also has on the people… Read full post »
Every once in a while the "invisible hand" of market economics lays a velvet glove on the market place of ideas. This thought occurred to me last night as I took to my habitual review of all things lame stream: cable news networks (what passes for… Read full post »
see green Spring shoots
under April snow? It is distant
not yet here to melt in warm breath
blue winter ice stretching at length
certain it will recede again
until then your walk in wooded
remembrance stills the blanching
of a pale hearth beat now glacial
beryl painted, the Castellana's s… Read full post »
I think Harry's Ghost is partially revealed in his latest post. The guy is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery and, you know the rest.
I remember feeling intimidated by the OC's for poetry that used to spring up here. Whatever happened to them by the… Read full post »
child's many paths knowing no set course
Four legs crawl and three slowly shuffle
Many birthed trails lie before a man's source
Kinder memories, light foot lad's verse
Silly song of youth, a nursery jumble
A child's many paths owned before setting course
Summer Sphinx in sand, you cannot immerse
Fr… Read full post »
Child of mine,
see my hide, calloused and rough
the mast has been lashed enough
Why do you join the picket line?
Writ large by you and yet, not thine!
your history is rough skin that you sluff
see how it abrades! chafes with a… Read full post »
(click the image to go to the editorial on Alabama's new immigration law)
Inconvenience transforms into "unintended consequences" that have to be changed.
. . . There have been reports that some international companies are having second thoughts ab… Read full post »
It got me to thinking about a documentary series from the late 70's by James Burke, Connections, and Episode 3: Distant Voices (youtube… Read full post »
Gypsy dancer, love in flight
Life is a dance and you hold on tight
fierce in your adroitness
Luck is in the chance
that sudden frozen stance
caught in a mid-whirl madness
Young girls, nesting gypsies
watch you with pliant eyes
the gui… Read full post »
The bed was damp and had drained their bliss sooner than they had liked. He drew his hand across his face, wiping the dampness away and as he wet his lips, he could taste her again; like champagne sweat, the pungent aroma the same as that from an/… Read full post »
The problem with rhetoric is . . .
It is an immovable rock in the hard place of absolutes: Dead Beat Tea Party Dads