AT A LOSS (or) LOSING EVERYTHING AND MORE

 

AT A LOSS (or)

LOSING EVERYTHING AND MORE

 

 

Financially unable.

Physically unstable.

Can’t get it done, 

Your number is one.

 

No subsidy.

No easement.

No Friday. 

No Payment.

 

 

Standing alone,

No home of your own.

Disparity wound,

No riches to sound.

 

Your wealth; aberration,

As most of a nation.

Reward is a ghost.

Few hoard the most,

And never will host.

 

No need to mind,

The rest left behind.

They’ll lose theirs too,

In moments too few.

 

You’re ahead of the game.

The loss not so lame.

They’ll gnash and they’ll weep,

Over treasure unfit to keep.

 

You’ll stand alone,

Poor on your own.

Nothing to share,

Commanding less care.

 

Losing it now,

Will prepare you for how,

For all, not for some.

A matter of minutes to come

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VALENTINE BLOG TITLES II

 

 

Again, instead of writing a blog today I decided to write another selection of ironic titles that I would use for a satirical Valentine blog, based on my past experiences and some recent impositions imposed on myself and other close friends. The following are a sampling of sardonic captions I have come up with. There were a number more that I failed to write down when I thought of them as I was contemplating this concept; they are floating around in the gossamer ethereality; perhaps they will return as this cynical collection develops.

 

Oh, and anyway, happy Valentine’s day.

 

The Blunted Edge

Passing Shadows

Lacked Reason

Worse Yet

That Was That

Clean Sweep

Lethal and Absurd

Angst and Misery

No forwarding Address

Double Negation

Reason Expelled

Departure Certain

Amongst the Chaos

No Soul To Be Seen

Poisoning of Wells

Conditional Prejudices

Menacing At Worst

Ignorance Matters

Curiously Limited

Warmed Over

Dividing Line

Party of No

Coded Rhetoric

VALENTINE BLOG TITLES

VALENTINE BLOG TITLES

Instead of writing a blog today I decided to simply write titles that I would use for a Valentine blog, based on my past experiences and some recent impositions on myself and other close friends. The following are a sampling of what I have come up with. There were a number more that I failed to write down when I thought of them as I was contemplating this concept; they are floating around in the gossamer ethereality; perhaps they will return as this collection develops.

 

Oh, and anyway, happy Valentine’s day.

 

Who Cares?

Word Awakening

Cruising Solo

Reposition

Cafe Refuge

Non Sequitur

Rearranging Dessert

Wordless

Freedom Cafe

Being On Top

Other Arrangements

Refuge Refuse

Pious Du Jour

Discharge

Wordy Discharge

Illogical Alignment 

Alphabet Soup Indeed

Non Kama Sutra

A Room With No View 

Downside Up

Spin and Run

Buddhist Grump

KNOWN TO EXIST

 

In the meadow where she resides,

Her grand solipsistic landscape

From where she taunts and chides.

Your resources bound by tape,

Hoarded, out of reach she hides.

Coarsely laughing non agape.

Favoritism, favorite sides.

She’s got hers, not to jape.

She’s got yours; besides.

SEEING RED

 

As the wood wavers to a winter breeze, and the sun sets on this cold romantic February waking, I entertain the second glass of ruby red valentine wine; as it sifts lower in my throat the Angus Die-Trinity Choir performs Barber’s Adagio – number four on the playlist, after, strings, flute and brass, while tears roil over both cheeks, lost, streaming into and onto my beard: I write now to clarinet; next the Tokyo String Quartet for over eight minutes, then, organ: without fail: the most confident and sincerely lovely evening I have enjoyed in some time.

A WINTER’S TALE

A WINTER’S TALE

Another dusting of confectioner’s glaze

Accoutrement to travelers daze

The holly’s frosting, icing pure

To warn careful touring, to be sure.

It arrived overnight

Soft delicate and white

Temperatures secure

Perhaps tomorrow there’s more.

The groundhog may

See his shadow today

If he does or not

We’ll take what we’ve lot.

February’s weather romance

We know in advance.

Some stay at home

Other’s left alone.

Winters will come

For all; not for some.

The pale it is near

Count them as dear.

FIFTEEN DEGREES

FIFTEEN DEGREES

 

Staring into the cold

Gelid air streams in bold

Rippled icicles form

But less than adorn

Red headed woodpeckers scorn.

 

Holly tree verdant

Against the mantle of white

Icy streams abundant

A wintery sight

The cloudless sky lending

To this bane bitter bite.

 

A well lighted wood

Promises temperatures should

Rise within hours

Lest there be new snow showers.

 

It is fifteen degrees

As temperatures freeze

Arctic air pushing and squeezing

Prediction not above freezing.

 

And out to the west

The forecast does jest

More snow on the way

Not tomorrow, today.