
Snapped in Mexico, months ago. What flowers are left are all covered in snow here in the bootheel of Missouri.
For Cee’s FOTD

Snapped in Mexico, months ago. What flowers are left are all covered in snow here in the bootheel of Missouri.
For Cee’s FOTD
Divided We Fall
As we bicker on the web, as we snipe and snooze,
soothing our hurt feelings with doobies or with booze,
our rulers are sequestered, each pondering on his throne,
deciding what new property to seize and make their own.
A chunk from social security, another bit from schools.
So long as we’re not educated, we’ll remain their fools.
Cut taxes for their cronies and let them drill for oil
in our nature preserves until we start to boil.
Record heat in one spot and fires in another.
Record snow and hurricanes. We drown or freeze or smother.
They are not going to notice these travesties and glitches,
for they’re busy in their counting rooms, counting out their riches.
What percentage earned today? What yachts to buy tomorrow?
The fortune that they earn today is mankind’s future sorrow.
If we stay divided, we play into their plans.
We keep each other busy as they work on their tans!
The prompt words today were snooze, property, sequester and percentage.
Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/11/16/rdp-friday-snooze/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/16/fowc-with-fandango-property/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/11/16/sequester/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/11/16/your-daily-word-prompt-percentage-November-16-2018/
Regrets
I wish I’d set the truth aside.
I wish instead that I had lied
when you asked the reason why
I didn’t choose the other guy.
I wish I’d said you’d won my heart
quickly, from the very start.
But, alas, I told the truth.
Blame it on my careless youth.
It was, perhaps, naïveté
that made me answer you that way.
I said you were my second choice,
then heard that quaver in your voice.
For all those years forever after,
I’ve recalled your bitter laughter
as you said you guessed you’d wait
for the type of girl who’d rate
you first when making her selection,
and thus began your swift defection.
After all these years, I’ll tell
that I remember very well
regrets I suffered at your leaving—
all those nights of futile grieving.
Watching as you met your wife,
had your kids and built your life.
Every few years at class reunions
as we all share our fond communions,
I’ll catch your eye and feel the spark
that goes unnoticed in the dark.
And every day, until I die,
I’ll wish I’d told that little lie.
The prompt: Write about a conversation you wish you’d never had. For Matt’s Daily Inkling prompt.
Photos may be enlarged by clicking on first photo. Click arrow to progress to next enlarged photo.
I must reblog Thom Hickey’s touching tribute to WWI soldiers. In particular, I was touched by this rendition of “Waltzing Matilda.” It is not at all what I expected.
In 1914 they came from the hamlets and the villages and the towns and the cities.
They came from the hills and the mountains and the valleys.
Farmers and miners.
Teachers and doctors.
White, Brown and Black.
They marched away from Home with smiles on their faces.
They knew they would be Home again soon.
Today it is exactly 100 years since the guns fell silent ending World War One.
The emotional, spiritual, pyschic and cultural cost of such a war is beyond all human calculation.
A cataclysm shattering hearts and minds.
Shattering philosophies and faiths.
Shattering nations and societies.
Shattering hopes and dreams.
Shattering comfortable certainties..
The toll in terms of deaths and casualties we can, in awe, to some extent number.
From Australia : Lieutenant Joseph Balfe from Brunswick aged 25 and more than 62, 000 of his comrades.
From Canada : Private Percy Bark aged 18 and…
View original post 536 more words
Mexico Memories. Definitely not a shot taken in Missouri, because this is what it looks like here this morning:
For Cee’s FOTD
Unsung
Life lived as a soliloquy with no sort of belonging
is a bell without a clapper—only motion with no gonging.
Life’s richer orchestrated from many different parts—
a plethora of loved ones. A symphony of hearts.
Love brings complications—a certain pain and mess,
and a life deterged of conflict sounds tempting, I confess,
but still a solitary life cannot be the best.
It lacks a certain melody, a certain flair and zest.
Every unsung melody is searching for a stage,
and a voice without an ear is like words without a page.
Only half of life can be lived behind a wall.
The sound of one hand clapping is no sound at all.
The prompt words today are orchestrate, belong, soliloquy and deterge. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/11/15/rdp-thursday-orchestrate/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/15/fowc-with-fandango-belong/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/11/15/soliloquy/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/11/15/your-daily-word-prompt-deterge-November-15-2018/
Purloined Passion
It was just a small hotel, the only I could find.
I felt lucky to find it, for I was in a bind.
I hadn’t planned to stop here, but snow began to fall
and I could not seem to see the road at all.
The walls were thin as paper and the folks next door
enjoyed one hour of passion, then tried for one hour more.
Both were very vocal in making their demands
about what the other should do with lips and hands.
Those classes in dictation I had to take at school
that I never thought I’d use now became a tool
to record their dialogue, and when the night was through
I took out my computer to do what writers do.
Every cry of passion, every scream and moan
although I cannot claim it for my very own
I can still incorporate in my coming story,
using strangers’ passion for my creative glory.
The prompt was: You’ve obtained a journal — one with a multitude of confessions inside, but you don’t know who this book of secrets belongs to. What do you do with it? Feel free to alter this prompt for your own purposes.
For Daily Inkling