I would rather stay in love and walk away
Than let the burden of time
get in the way of a good fantasy
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Happy Birthday Bradley
Now 13
I remember once apon a time
in 1968
When I was where you are now
Age wise at least
You have been blessed
With a life full of promise
Discovering them is the life challenge
But, at 13 just heed this
There is always someone there
Looking out for you
Sometimes far and sometimes near
And sometimes both
Whether you are just born
Or 105
Mentoring never ends
Some or all of the faces change
But the message stays the same
There is always someone there
Sometimes the hardest challenge of them all
Is accepting this reality
May you never Feel the need to know
Otherwise
I remember once apon a time
in 1968
When I was where you are now
Age wise at least
You have been blessed
With a life full of promise
Discovering them is the life challenge
But, at 13 just heed this
There is always someone there
Looking out for you
Sometimes far and sometimes near
And sometimes both
Whether you are just born
Or 105
Mentoring never ends
Some or all of the faces change
But the message stays the same
There is always someone there
Sometimes the hardest challenge of them all
Is accepting this reality
May you never Feel the need to know
Otherwise
Saturday, December 5, 2009
old fat uppity womans theater
Old Fat Uppity Womans's Theater Presents
Scrooge
A story of how old fat uppity women deny 12 children
the use of the Cobre Valley Center for the Arts theater
Brought to you by the Copper Cities Community Players
Scrooge
A story of how old fat uppity women deny 12 children
the use of the Cobre Valley Center for the Arts theater
Brought to you by the Copper Cities Community Players
Saturday, November 21, 2009
rebirth
Today is the beginning or year 54 of my life,, this becomes important to me only because memory from my past, a belief of what will be. has passed. At about the age of 16, I determined that by age 53 I would be living in a half way house. A house for the mentally slow, the infermed, the old, the mentally incapacitated. When I was growing up, there was such a house at 59th ave and Northern in Phx, On The south west corner of 59th, facing east. How I knewmy life would end there is beond me now, but the thought has weighed heavily for many years. So now that I have reached the age beond that premonition, I feel reborn.
I write this to myself as a reminder of the joy I feel turning 54.
I write this to myself as a reminder of the joy I feel turning 54.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Waiting
Enjoy the wait, hold valve in anticipation. When you do, the event, or lack of becomes equal to or lesser than the wait.
free stuff
This morning the free food "Commodities" truck arrived in my town. Most of the people waiting for the distribution of food drove nice cars and trucks.
war
We didn't have a widespread homelessness before the "War on Poverty"
We didn't have the drug problems before the "War on Drugs"
Now we have a "War on Terror"?
We didn't have the drug problems before the "War on Drugs"
Now we have a "War on Terror"?
Saturday, September 12, 2009
who what when where why and how
who what when where how and why game
who... name
what....doing something
when,,, time
where....location
why...reason
how,,,method of doing
game,
first person say the first line who,, answer
second person say the first line, the answer and the second line what, with answer
third person say the first line who, with answer, the second linewhat, with answer and the third line, when, with answer
forth person say the first line, who, with answer, the second line,what, with answer, the third line, when, with answer and the fourth line, where, with answer.
the fifth person say the first line, who, with answer, the second line, what, with answer, the third line,when, with answer the fourth line,where. with answer. and the fifth line, how, with answer.
very tough to do
who... name
what....doing something
when,,, time
where....location
why...reason
how,,,method of doing
game,
first person say the first line who,, answer
second person say the first line, the answer and the second line what, with answer
third person say the first line who, with answer, the second linewhat, with answer and the third line, when, with answer
forth person say the first line, who, with answer, the second line,what, with answer, the third line, when, with answer and the fourth line, where, with answer.
the fifth person say the first line, who, with answer, the second line, what, with answer, the third line,when, with answer the fourth line,where. with answer. and the fifth line, how, with answer.
very tough to do
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
life or something like it
Speed killed my Momma
Alcohol my Dad
My uncle raped me when I was 9
Someday I am going to be President
This is America
and everybody is allowed
Michelle, age 11
I don't work as well as I used to
some parts only have memories
a young friend in his 50's
says he is going to get me
a hooker when I turn 100
ah, the enthusiasm of youth
Carlow, age 95
Thie kids are all grown
with kids of their own
all moved away
My husband passed away
suddenly last year
I thank God he planned for the future
I grieved as long as I needed to
now it is my time
that handsome yound stud of 60
sure cuts a mean rug
his karaoke is pretty good too
wonder what else he can do
Marge, age 72
21 and drunk as hell
in the middle of the desert
just my last 6 pack and me
my 45 will see to that
Jim, age 21
Alcohol my Dad
My uncle raped me when I was 9
Someday I am going to be President
This is America
and everybody is allowed
Michelle, age 11
I don't work as well as I used to
some parts only have memories
a young friend in his 50's
says he is going to get me
a hooker when I turn 100
ah, the enthusiasm of youth
Carlow, age 95
Thie kids are all grown
with kids of their own
all moved away
My husband passed away
suddenly last year
I thank God he planned for the future
I grieved as long as I needed to
now it is my time
that handsome yound stud of 60
sure cuts a mean rug
his karaoke is pretty good too
wonder what else he can do
Marge, age 72
21 and drunk as hell
in the middle of the desert
just my last 6 pack and me
my 45 will see to that
Jim, age 21
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
here and there
Once upon a time there were two great lands. One was called Here and the other There. The people from Here and the people from There didn't know the other because between here and there was Nowhere. That isn't to say that there weren't speculation in the land of Here that someplace else exists and same to be said in the land of There. And, there was mythology about the lands past Nowhere, but no one in the land of Here or There believed in mythology, and there was the great expanse of Nowhere just outside Here and There.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
human ownership
I saw a person walk across my path, a worker at the company next door. It immediately struck me that he was a worker, following orders, not the owner of those idea. I believe the walk of a man who owns his ideas is a man who owns himself, and it shows in his walk, his carriage and his demeanor.
the land of weew
Once there was a land called weew, where every body spoke weew, that was the only sound anyone had ever heard. There was an occasional weew weew, and every once in a while a weew weew weew, but not very often, for that was reserved for either being terrifies or elated beond reason. The language of weew doesn't translate well in words, but worked very well for all the people in the land of weew.
Then, one day out of the blue, a visiter arrived. All the people of weew were vary curious of the stranger, for they had never seen a stranger before. The stranger was a mistified landing on this strange place for all it know was its own kind and all these people were making funny noises it had never heard before. So all it could do is let out a sound in its own language, WHOA. This cought the people of weew very off gaurd, for they had never heard anything like whoa before. So they gathered around the whoa weew weewing for they were very exited, and the person from whoa was whoa'ing for it was very exited.
It was at that very moment that the person from whoa had a wonderful idea on how to communicate with the people from weew. Music. Music is the great communicator. So, with plans he really hadn't thought out very well, he communitated to the weew people that they should weew in a unique style, and it would whoa. The first real communication between the people of weew and the people of whoa when something like this. If you pick up on the song, you can add inflection where you think it should be.
weew weew weew whoa.........
weew weew weew whoa
weew weew weew whoa
weew weew weew whoa..........
weew weew weew whoa o
weew weew weew whoa o
weew weew weew whoa o
weew weew weew whoa o o o
that is the basics of the song. And so, with one small gesture of friendship and song, the people of weew and the people of whoa began a long happy friendship.
Then, one day out of the blue, a visiter arrived. All the people of weew were vary curious of the stranger, for they had never seen a stranger before. The stranger was a mistified landing on this strange place for all it know was its own kind and all these people were making funny noises it had never heard before. So all it could do is let out a sound in its own language, WHOA. This cought the people of weew very off gaurd, for they had never heard anything like whoa before. So they gathered around the whoa weew weewing for they were very exited, and the person from whoa was whoa'ing for it was very exited.
It was at that very moment that the person from whoa had a wonderful idea on how to communicate with the people from weew. Music. Music is the great communicator. So, with plans he really hadn't thought out very well, he communitated to the weew people that they should weew in a unique style, and it would whoa. The first real communication between the people of weew and the people of whoa when something like this. If you pick up on the song, you can add inflection where you think it should be.
weew weew weew whoa.........
weew weew weew whoa
weew weew weew whoa
weew weew weew whoa..........
weew weew weew whoa o
weew weew weew whoa o
weew weew weew whoa o
weew weew weew whoa o o o
that is the basics of the song. And so, with one small gesture of friendship and song, the people of weew and the people of whoa began a long happy friendship.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
Art Gallery
Art gallery, snooty salesman, pensive artist who has been talked into selling a block of wood with his name on it as art.
Product., Block of wood., one block of wood., That is the whole show.,
It is a GRAND opening., opening night,. All the lights in the gallery are dim except the one on "THE PIECE". That is what it is called, "THE PIECE. A single block of wood, signed by the artist. An unknown backwoods country boy who likes to create stuff. His last piece, "A CHILD'S TRICYCLE" sold for $200,000 Dollars. It has been a steady progression of the slimy NY art dealer to promote this county stoner's stuff as art and push it on the buyers as desirable and valuable.
The NY dealer found this bumpkins stuff in the front yard of his home somewhere in the south, weeds growing around them. The dealer paid a modest sum for the first 10 pieces of junk, 50 Dollars. The artist was dumbfounded at the NY dealer, fool and all his money.
But, the dealer came back for more. The country boy, being no fool, decided he would get over on the dealer and charge 15 dollars a piece for what he made. The dealer was too smart for the young artist and would not take less than 20 a piece, and he had to get all that was made at the time.
As you can probably guess, the dealer was getting more and more for the your budding artists work, getting wealty very quickly, and couldn't get enought of it to satisfy demand.
So, back to the opening. Al the media was there, to catch a glimpse of the reclusive artist they could only imaging creating what they considered some of the finest new works to come out of the 20the century modern art movement.
The artist, standing quietly in a corner wearing his Sunday best that didn't fit well, a bow tie and tennis shoes, respectfully greeted the wealthy guests as they were introduced to him. None of the guests believing for a minute that this bumpkin could be the man responsible for the creations they so eagerly sought. But they played along, knowing the dealer was well respected in the NY circles and could be known to play such a hoax just to enhance the experience of what was to be the art auction of the year for any new artist.
One piece, all these people all the money. The rube thought his piece of wood might bring 2 or 300 dollars, thinking all these NY rich people senseless, by the way the talked murmured about the possiblilities for "THE PIECE"
As the auction started, Mr. country boy artist was dumbfounded as the price rose to 500. he thought dollars, the dealer knew to add zero's. No sense upsetting the apple cart. At the end of the auction, and after all the people were gone, the dealer reluctantly paid the young artist what was owed, 50% of the sale. $250 Dollars went into the pocket of the artist, and he got on the bus for home. Always he will tell the story about the dumb art dealer he got over on forever, and the NY big shots who paid way to much for a piece of wood not big enough to be used for anything anymore.
Product., Block of wood., one block of wood., That is the whole show.,
It is a GRAND opening., opening night,. All the lights in the gallery are dim except the one on "THE PIECE". That is what it is called, "THE PIECE. A single block of wood, signed by the artist. An unknown backwoods country boy who likes to create stuff. His last piece, "A CHILD'S TRICYCLE" sold for $200,000 Dollars. It has been a steady progression of the slimy NY art dealer to promote this county stoner's stuff as art and push it on the buyers as desirable and valuable.
The NY dealer found this bumpkins stuff in the front yard of his home somewhere in the south, weeds growing around them. The dealer paid a modest sum for the first 10 pieces of junk, 50 Dollars. The artist was dumbfounded at the NY dealer, fool and all his money.
But, the dealer came back for more. The country boy, being no fool, decided he would get over on the dealer and charge 15 dollars a piece for what he made. The dealer was too smart for the young artist and would not take less than 20 a piece, and he had to get all that was made at the time.
As you can probably guess, the dealer was getting more and more for the your budding artists work, getting wealty very quickly, and couldn't get enought of it to satisfy demand.
So, back to the opening. Al the media was there, to catch a glimpse of the reclusive artist they could only imaging creating what they considered some of the finest new works to come out of the 20the century modern art movement.
The artist, standing quietly in a corner wearing his Sunday best that didn't fit well, a bow tie and tennis shoes, respectfully greeted the wealthy guests as they were introduced to him. None of the guests believing for a minute that this bumpkin could be the man responsible for the creations they so eagerly sought. But they played along, knowing the dealer was well respected in the NY circles and could be known to play such a hoax just to enhance the experience of what was to be the art auction of the year for any new artist.
One piece, all these people all the money. The rube thought his piece of wood might bring 2 or 300 dollars, thinking all these NY rich people senseless, by the way the talked murmured about the possiblilities for "THE PIECE"
As the auction started, Mr. country boy artist was dumbfounded as the price rose to 500. he thought dollars, the dealer knew to add zero's. No sense upsetting the apple cart. At the end of the auction, and after all the people were gone, the dealer reluctantly paid the young artist what was owed, 50% of the sale. $250 Dollars went into the pocket of the artist, and he got on the bus for home. Always he will tell the story about the dumb art dealer he got over on forever, and the NY big shots who paid way to much for a piece of wood not big enough to be used for anything anymore.
Waking up
Like looking through a straw
at images-real and dream
seemingly on at a time
floating by-crisply and individually
all together and separate
easy and fluid
my mind taking all the time it wants
to begin a new day
allowing me along for the ride
between two worlds
while looking through a straw
or a funnel
at images-real and dream
seemingly on at a time
floating by-crisply and individually
all together and separate
easy and fluid
my mind taking all the time it wants
to begin a new day
allowing me along for the ride
between two worlds
while looking through a straw
or a funnel
Friday, May 29, 2009
cool
Cool Arizona morning
sometimes the early fog on the brain in the morning can't be lifted
even by the soft morning sun
as a yellow leaf cross the path
a slight chill on the fingers
the traffic is soft and easy
I should think how blessed I am and I do
but it is still cold
there is still a fog on my brain
I am still in traffic
sometimes the early fog on the brain in the morning can't be lifted
even by the soft morning sun
as a yellow leaf cross the path
a slight chill on the fingers
the traffic is soft and easy
I should think how blessed I am and I do
but it is still cold
there is still a fog on my brain
I am still in traffic
love affair
Imagine a picture of an old man
standing by a grave
you know it must be his wife
although you don't know who he is
or who the grave is
he is probably thinking of all the times
they loved and hated and the differences
the forty or fifty years of life they spent together
the best years and now he is alone
and he is talking to her
his lips may not be moving but he is talking
to an image that perhaps only he sees or remembers
of a time that may very well have been
the very first time the met
or the very last
standing by a grave
you know it must be his wife
although you don't know who he is
or who the grave is
he is probably thinking of all the times
they loved and hated and the differences
the forty or fifty years of life they spent together
the best years and now he is alone
and he is talking to her
his lips may not be moving but he is talking
to an image that perhaps only he sees or remembers
of a time that may very well have been
the very first time the met
or the very last
food
Eating at a Mexican food restaurant the other day
I was struck by the worst case of quesadilla guacamoleism
you know, I like to die before I could get home and take care of it
I wish they would market something for that
I was struck by the worst case of quesadilla guacamoleism
you know, I like to die before I could get home and take care of it
I wish they would market something for that
Clouds
Sing oh great clouds in a vibrant tenor that only you understand
and only you can sing
sing forth oh great clouds train down on us
I am always amazed that concurrently you can have clouds
with tens of thousands of foot of billowing immensity
and at the same time wisps of clouds
that are barely worthy of the namesake of cloud
billowing in such a nature that they threaten to be and yet
seem to have a twinkle
if they had an eye
that says they know all along that they are not yet
but they could be
I love it when I spot something new in life
today I see clouds that look like northern snow clouds
ready to bring in winter, yet coming from the south
moving at such a rate
you would swear they were race horses
racing to get north to find their destiny perhaps
multiple layers of colors as sunset approaches
the imagination can't fathom yet
exist in reality for all to see
wonders never cease
and only you can sing
sing forth oh great clouds train down on us
I am always amazed that concurrently you can have clouds
with tens of thousands of foot of billowing immensity
and at the same time wisps of clouds
that are barely worthy of the namesake of cloud
billowing in such a nature that they threaten to be and yet
seem to have a twinkle
if they had an eye
that says they know all along that they are not yet
but they could be
I love it when I spot something new in life
today I see clouds that look like northern snow clouds
ready to bring in winter, yet coming from the south
moving at such a rate
you would swear they were race horses
racing to get north to find their destiny perhaps
multiple layers of colors as sunset approaches
the imagination can't fathom yet
exist in reality for all to see
wonders never cease
dogs and children
Have you ever thought to get into the mind of a dog as you watch
loping intently in a straight line over a dirt patch from one empty space to another
thinking of what the heck is this animal doing, where's he going
surely the dog moves as if it is on a purpose from God
as much as any human
heading from point a to point b
of course we could turn that around and say if that is true
perhaps we are no greater than the dog
for although we strive with purpose and intent
moving always moving, knowing where we are going
at least in our minds
have we no less criteria than the dog?
There is a dog in a pickup truck
with its head hanging out the side
yelping and catching the wind and barking at the breeze
I think what if adults did that
think of the joyous splendor
children do it, children allow
their heads to loll and the laughter to fly
with out any consequence
dogs do it, children do it
perhaps we should try
loping intently in a straight line over a dirt patch from one empty space to another
thinking of what the heck is this animal doing, where's he going
surely the dog moves as if it is on a purpose from God
as much as any human
heading from point a to point b
of course we could turn that around and say if that is true
perhaps we are no greater than the dog
for although we strive with purpose and intent
moving always moving, knowing where we are going
at least in our minds
have we no less criteria than the dog?
There is a dog in a pickup truck
with its head hanging out the side
yelping and catching the wind and barking at the breeze
I think what if adults did that
think of the joyous splendor
children do it, children allow
their heads to loll and the laughter to fly
with out any consequence
dogs do it, children do it
perhaps we should try
The worm farm and fertilizer company
Started in 19aught and 8, The Worm farm and fertilizer company has grown from Grandpa's passion for the best worms to a worldwide internet sensation rivaling and competing head to head with the plastic worm industry and all its lobbyists in Washington. But of course you already know that. What you may not know about the sizing and grading of worms at the Worm farm and fertilizer company, you don'[t need to know. We have already figured it out. So, you want 3 inch dangly untanglies by the dozen overnight, consider it done. Or the special genetically engineered quarter pounder for cat fishing the large ones? Over night to you with thier own food, thank you. Here is a little secret not all may know.... our worms are so good, some costomers like them barbecued. But don't tell anyone. Find us on the web at www.thewormfarmandfertilezercompany.com, and dig in.
We're all going to heaven
I got Jesus on my belt buckle
Alla on my hat
Buddha in my back pocket
My Zen is going flat
I'm gonna get to heaven someday
Got all my ducks in a row
I'll bring a six pack
You bring the joints to go
And we're all going to heaven
Yes we're all going to heaven
And heaven's just 6 feet underground
Feeding worms and feeding insects
Enriching dirt for trees to grow in
Jesus sure has a way of getting round
Alla on my hat
Buddha in my back pocket
My Zen is going flat
I'm gonna get to heaven someday
Got all my ducks in a row
I'll bring a six pack
You bring the joints to go
And we're all going to heaven
Yes we're all going to heaven
And heaven's just 6 feet underground
Feeding worms and feeding insects
Enriching dirt for trees to grow in
Jesus sure has a way of getting round
I try to let you know
How I feel about you
I interpret by your actions
How you feel about me
I see the universe of difference
I just can't seem to reconcile them
You have always tried
To correct my viewpoint
Making it more reality based
I don't listen
Instead
Choosing to hear only my heart
The heart hears no truths
Sees no reality
Only listens to itself
So years go by
You keep telling me I'll find someone
I keep telling you
I already have
How I feel about you
I interpret by your actions
How you feel about me
I see the universe of difference
I just can't seem to reconcile them
You have always tried
To correct my viewpoint
Making it more reality based
I don't listen
Instead
Choosing to hear only my heart
The heart hears no truths
Sees no reality
Only listens to itself
So years go by
You keep telling me I'll find someone
I keep telling you
I already have
Thursday, May 28, 2009
funny watch
What would it be like to find a watch that ran backward? What would you do with it? A backward running watch that made time run backward, yet everything else seemed normal, like time was running forward for everyone except you. What would you do with the gift, and is it a gift or a curse?
This very thing happened to George Money. George is a40 something, has been married to his high school sweetheart for 25 years, works as a middle manager at the local Piggly Wiggly in produce. He has a nice, simple unadorned home 3 miles from work. His wife just started back in the work force after aising the kids and getting them off to college. Her name is Peg and likes her hyphenated name. Her maiden name is Moore, and forgo her career in advertising to raise children. All seems perfect to George and Peg Money. Except for the daydreams.
We all have them, and George and Peg Moore-Money were no different. George saw himself on the stage, and in high school everyone though he would go on to NY and be a great one on Broadway. George has a beautiful soothing tenors voice, and his classmates thought he was a natural at acting. Peg dreamed of herself in a high rise office commanding power in the advertising industry like no woman before. How real life takes hold us and puts us on the path we take.
Now George found this watch while walking home from the supermarket one day, in the pouring rain, because his car had broken down. He noticed that the watch wasn't only very beautiful, but ran backwards. Looking closer at it, he read the inscription "Ask and you will find the answer to your dreams".
As George thought this out, he came up with all the possible realities that could have been for him self and Peg. What if I had only?. To many questions to run though the brain in the rain, although George liked the rain very much.
George thought of how he was an actor, in community theater, and a good one. How he sang in the choir at church, and loved that. George thought of Peg and her dreams of conquest of the advertising world, only to think of how everyone anywhere Peg Moore-Money went, wallets opened up. PTA, Little League, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, High School band. Everywhere Peg went, she was a force not to be denied. When she was the fund raiser for a project, the project got funded. Period.
So. walking in the rain George did the only thing he could possible do. He closed the watch, admired its beauty once more, and tossed it into the storm drain. In his version of the world, George thought he and Peg already had lived their dreams come true.
Just then, Peg drove up, just close enough to startle George, who was lost in thought.
This very thing happened to George Money. George is a40 something, has been married to his high school sweetheart for 25 years, works as a middle manager at the local Piggly Wiggly in produce. He has a nice, simple unadorned home 3 miles from work. His wife just started back in the work force after aising the kids and getting them off to college. Her name is Peg and likes her hyphenated name. Her maiden name is Moore, and forgo her career in advertising to raise children. All seems perfect to George and Peg Money. Except for the daydreams.
We all have them, and George and Peg Moore-Money were no different. George saw himself on the stage, and in high school everyone though he would go on to NY and be a great one on Broadway. George has a beautiful soothing tenors voice, and his classmates thought he was a natural at acting. Peg dreamed of herself in a high rise office commanding power in the advertising industry like no woman before. How real life takes hold us and puts us on the path we take.
Now George found this watch while walking home from the supermarket one day, in the pouring rain, because his car had broken down. He noticed that the watch wasn't only very beautiful, but ran backwards. Looking closer at it, he read the inscription "Ask and you will find the answer to your dreams".
As George thought this out, he came up with all the possible realities that could have been for him self and Peg. What if I had only?. To many questions to run though the brain in the rain, although George liked the rain very much.
George thought of how he was an actor, in community theater, and a good one. How he sang in the choir at church, and loved that. George thought of Peg and her dreams of conquest of the advertising world, only to think of how everyone anywhere Peg Moore-Money went, wallets opened up. PTA, Little League, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, High School band. Everywhere Peg went, she was a force not to be denied. When she was the fund raiser for a project, the project got funded. Period.
So. walking in the rain George did the only thing he could possible do. He closed the watch, admired its beauty once more, and tossed it into the storm drain. In his version of the world, George thought he and Peg already had lived their dreams come true.
Just then, Peg drove up, just close enough to startle George, who was lost in thought.
Intro to Owlism
It seems that everyone now is blogging so I might as well get with the program. My Grandmother saw me as an Owl. I don't know how, because I never had a lot of contact with her. But as the years progress, I find either I have grown into the role or she was a very wise woman indeed.
To notice the relationships between everything, how life fits like a crossword puzzle and how it is all connected is my forte. Which is a very self polite way to say, I sit, and watch, everything.
So, with an Owls eyes and a passionate heart both connected to a middle aged single man, I blog
To notice the relationships between everything, how life fits like a crossword puzzle and how it is all connected is my forte. Which is a very self polite way to say, I sit, and watch, everything.
So, with an Owls eyes and a passionate heart both connected to a middle aged single man, I blog
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