A juggling technophile shares personal stories, challenges, humor and perhaps some political commentary.
Amateur scribblings often over rhythmic, rhymey, shallow and too Freudian.
I hold you my son
And I cry
For I cannot give you all the world.
I watch you my daughter
And I cry
For I cannot give you all my time.
I teach you my son
And I cry
For I cannot give you all knowledge.
I guide you my daughter
And I cry
For I cannot prevent all your mistakes.
I set you free my son
And I cry
For I cannot protect you all the time.
I love you my wife
And I cry
For I cannot give you a better life.
And I cry
Tears of joy
For all of you give me such happiness!
You come into this world alone
Yet in the company of others.
You live your life alone
Yet in the company of others.
You die alone
Yet are mourned in the company of others.
Why can the heart not be alone
But yearn for the company of others?
My entry for Problogger’s 6th giveaway is:
iBlog for iMust
I met a guy from Oz
Tim Miller his name
Of SpyJournal fame
We have never met in person
But are friends all the sameSee I was trying out
This fad call blogging
Tim said its more than a game
Blogging is not a fad
It’s here to stayPeople make a living
In this digital world
Publishing their own word
Tim advise, “Check out problogger
A site by Darren Rowse.”Problogger showed the way
Follow these rules
And you can make your pay
In the comfort of pajamas
Sitting at your computer all dayI have yet to make a dime
But Darren must be doing ok
For it’s Problogger’s birthday
And good ol’ Darren
Is giving $54,000 away
Remember, they just needed a poem with the word "problogger" or "Darren" in it. The poem did not have to be a literary masterpiece although there are a couple of gems! At the time of this post, Darren Rowse and Lara Kulpa had 416 entries for their iPod giveaway which includes 4 iPods and 1 iPod makeover. You still have 4 hours to enter.
My stomach hurts. My back and neck hurt. My mind aches. My soul bleeds. I look back hoping to see how far I have come, only to realize, my journey has just begun. I thought they paved the road ahead of me. Perhaps I left the path. This thicket is prickly and dense and makes me long for a second chance. The easy road is over there. No path goes that way. At the end, I wonder if I will look back to realize my journey has just begun, or realize, instead of seeking pain, I should have had fun.
Old Rumpleskin Red
Fell on his head
When he tripped on the crap
Left on the steps to the stair
It would not be a story
Lest be it so gory
He died with his head
In the liter box
The cat was displeased
Torn between where to pee
Use the head
Or the clean laundry?
Ol’ Red caused a quandary
For it was his job
To care for the cat pee and poo
No one else knew what to do
They thought long and hard
About Rumpleskin Red
On how to give a funeral
To this man unexpectedly dead.
He stunk to high Heaven
Of ammonia and rot
No one wanted to touch him
Or explain how he died
So he was buried in the yard
With the box
The cat
And the crap.
Fin.
—–
Discarded lines (the outtakes have you):
Twice in his life
Red’s luck had his head filled with crap
Once metaphorically
And once by the cat.
Suddenly it dawn
A solution to all problems
What to of Ol’ Red, his pet,
And the mess on the stairs
My Joy cannot beat Misery
Our Stress weighs too heavy
Stealing away the Happy.
Our Days are filled with constant pleasures
Like firecrackers, numerous, small, quick.
The Suck is like a Nuke
And evaporates all positive energy.
It is all Wrong.
Losing my Fight.
Ultimately we are responsible for our own destinies
Outside influences and circumstances can beat us down
But we choose between happiness and sadness.
We can wish happiness upon others.
We can gift happiness to others.
But we cannot force happiness upon anyone.
I made the mistake
I lived for me.
What folly!
I lived for thee.
I breathe in
The air you exhale.
I am indebted to you
For the honor.
I live a life
Planned.
Altered.
Unstable.
I cannot let go
Things are right.
Twisted around
Mind fight.
I die
Still alive.
No afterlife
Spirit is gone.
I lived.
Never free.
Trapped.
Slave, of me.
Through early morning fog I see
Visions of the things to be
The pains that are withheld for me
I realize and I can see
I try to find a way to make
All our little joys relate
Without that ever present hate
But I know that it’s too late
The game of life is hard to play
I’m going to lose it anyway
The losing card I’ll someday lay
So this is all I have to say
The only way to win is cheat
And lay it down before I’m beat
And to another give a seat
For that’s the only painless feat
The sword of time will pierce our skin
It doesn’t hurt when it begins
But as it works it’s way on in
The pain grows stronger watch it grin
A blind man once requested me
To answer questions that are key
Is it to be or not to be
And I replied, “Oh why ask me?”
I wrote a haiku
While I slept it was very good
I woke to forget
Today, as you raise your hand to the driver that just cut you off, think
Choose to raise that middle finger, or give a friendly wave
Today, when the children learn that a whole roll of toilet paper won’t flush, think
Yell at them, or give them a hug and tell them it is ok to make mistakes
Today, when you miss the deadline again, think
Self-flaggelate to no end, or focus and get it done
Today, when your loved one snaps at you in stress, think
Sulk away and be hurt, or smile and give a hug
Today, think
Because sometimes tomorrow never comes.
The game of life is hard to play
I’m going to lose it anyway
The losing card I’ll someday lay
So this is all I have to say
The only way to win is cheat
And lay it down before I’m beat
And to another give a seat
For that’s the only painless feat
Wednesdays are Lost
Work is Lost to the children’s needs
Lost as a taxi service
Preschool, preschool, high school, STAR
Time Lost to the kids is precious
On Wednesdays I am in paradise, Lost
In the island of my mind, I am Lost
Lost in self-flagellation and meditation
I so look forward to Wednesdays
My favorite times have always been Lost times
I would not trade my Lost Wednesdays for anything
Best of all, Wednesdays end with Lost
“I can’t do this all on my own. No, I know, I’m no Superman!“
I want to write
But today I’m not quite right
So I’ll remain quiet
And ramble only in my brain
