I've just edited an item in my portfolio:
Every once in awhile I stumble across something in the dark, something I didn't even know was there. And after the typical (%$#T^+_!! of a stubbed toe, when I've calmed down and I'm over it, well then, comes the question what to do with it? Burnt offerings! To the comedy gods! (Or whoever it is who wishes to take responsibility for the darned thing...) |
| Followers? I don't have any followers! I don't even have any Leaders. But I'm not entirely unconvinced that this particular topic doesn't touch a nerve, spread a little salt upon a wound, invite a wince, a grimace, a groan, a moan, or any other human response in relation to the idea of somebody somewhere reading something you've written, for some reason. Beyond that, it's all as profound as Samuel Clemons' chosen pen name: Mark Twain. Which means in Mississippi Riverboat parlance - "deep enough." I've just edited an item in my portfolio:
Read it and weep, or laugh, or throw it a Bronx cheer, as the case may be. I leave you with an astonishing question: Can a review be reviewed? Cap |
| ..........and the walks off mumbling to herself bit was truly priceless. Best laugh of the day, so far. |
| I'll review this review question and get back to you, but not in a review. |
| I'm having a deja vu moment, sort of. But actually more of what happens when you play with language and it bites you back. Like when a review turns into a rear view. |
| A captain's hat turned slightly sideways, the clump of longjohn Silver boots, a portside shiffle shuffling stage left into a moonlight spotlight... while careworn valentines shift into dogeared forgetfulness, inside drawers and clipped up on bulletin boards..... A little late, with this one:
climbs out the basement window, heading for the nearest seashore....... |
| Well, it's a lot like a shuffle, but done to a six-eight beat just outside of waltz time, often attempted after a third glass of whiskey, and is known to mix real well with rice crackers and brie. Though some think it looks hilarious, it is known as the customary response on certain south sea islands....after losing one's balance 60 feet up a coconut palm. I wouldn't try this at home.....[wink] |
| Better late than never-- that's what has happened. Dreams finding new doors, grizzlies waking up from long sleep! The heart that thought it would stop or suffer more blows all accepted being late. Late is the culture though, across the globe, raising West's brow, but for once late is good, that's all we could--- be late than never. |
| A little bird lands in a faraway place all the wings folded in a feathered embrace while Freedom sings in jetstreams and dreams lie in foreign lands safe and sound the languages of love reside like scattered seeds within the ground to flyaway once more one day... to distant shores all in seasons' glad good time.... |
| There's the promise of warmth and burst of colours on the other side of Terra. A old Nightingale singing blues for hundred of eras For one who heard that music can distant be a villain? Dreams weaved in the words setting off a spell The journey back home is only to begin the journey to a new one she wants to call her home. |
| On why I chose Liberty as my new dressup (upon achieving a new jacket color.) Well, at first I was going to throw a Jolly Roger on my traveliin' case - went and had a look, decided not, then figured I'd just use my flag. All well and good, seeing as I'm a proud Canadian. Then I got to figurin' again....on how, since I was a boy, I've also been a proud North American. Then I got to fiigurin', how would the two most powerful and iconic images in my life....look, together? Not too shabby, I'd say. Lady Liberty, with all due respect, ma'am......you are one fine statue to look up to. You see, I was born a Libra, and Freedom has been the sustenance of my life. When I was a kid, I dreamed of freedom. When I was 16, I attained it.....and so became free to dream of something else. To forever after look up, and never down. Whether it's heaven, a flag, or a proud statue, my eyes are still clear. As Woody said, "These lands are our lands." |
| Hi CaptainMidnightSingforPhoebe Nice |
| I just had a horrific thought. Must be the mood I'm in today. It just suddenly struck like lightning bolts of redemption, straight out of a cloudless sky. The need to ask this astonished question: How many folks here WDC by phone? The existential dread is killing me............ |
| Well, ya see now, LinnAnn, I still actually write (sometimes) with an old IBM Selectric (belonged to my Dad) and then there's the scribblers and notebooks, the lino-pads, the foolscap, the favorite pens, the forest of sharpened pencils (for edits) and then the green-gray thick as brick rolls of blank newsprint (for songwriting.) And when I'm normal lazy, I just whang away at a laptop, just to feel like I actually might have arrived alive in the 21st century (not totally sure about that, though...) For the moments I sorely crave the tickety-tackety-ding! known, heard and loved back when Christ was a child - resides an ancient Remington of Great Depression vintage - but one must have the tactile strength of a concert pianist for that exercise. I just don't thumb well. My fingers get too lonesome for the keys. So yeah - maybe existential dread was just too strong an emotion to express - (but when you type 60-70 words a minute or more...) I dunno. How many words a minute do people "thumb?" |
| Well, after rambling around here for the last six weeks after being gone for six years (I was on Mars ...or was it Venus?) don't ask..... I've noticed something strange. (Walks all the way around, kicks the tires, looks under the hood, applies a screwdriver, then a wrench, wipes away a little grease...) Forums. Where have all the forums gone? (Whistles the tune quietly.....Where have all the Flowers Gone?) And the funny things that used to happen on the way to the Forum (let alone, in them.) Forums ( mutters and sighs) I miss them. You know - those great mad rousing hollering jousting twisting bundles of debates,disputes, ah - the roaring ecstasies of furious passions, the social noise, the wits and the bits of linguistic Olympian gymnastics, the agreements and disagreements, the arguments, opinions, foresights, hindsights, headlights, the afterthoughts and onslaughts....the pomposities, majesties and spendor'd posing of worded wealth. That stuff. Where did it go, in a public forum? It used to be there. I swear I remember. (I have a very scary memory.) Makes me feel just like a grouchy grandpaw. A funny thing did happen on the way to the Forum. I got there, and found out that it had been outsourced, offshored, downsized, and generally just boarded up and turned into a giant tattoo shop. (Which is all right for rose tattoos on the left shoulder of waitresses in a donut shop, but I hardly go there anymore.) I'm on a diet, and have to watch my figure! (no-one else will) A good rant.................................... is so therapeutic!!!! [wink] |
| Yes, Northernwrites, I don't disagree. Some of it does appear to happen in Newsfeeds.................. but not like the old rant and rave forums that were devoted to specific topics (often social issues.) A way of narrowing down the Mount Palomar telescope into something more of an electron microscope........... (leaving all those little bits of things that would stick between your teeth) and writing was the only toothpaste to brush them out with. I do participate in many public forums away from here........(and love them all to bits) but I wish there was more of it going on in this fair community! |
| Just wandered in and discovered Safety Dance. Oh my. One of my alltime fave videos. All that dancin' goin' on out there. I suspect it actually does make us safer. Therefore, I'm all for it! Especially if it's got a good beat, and you can dance to it. (I dance best with dogs and children) That's what helps me forget myself. |