Category Archives: Uncategorized

Attempts at Fibbing Friday, Sep 4, 2026

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For Fibbing Friday, Sept 4, 2026 the assignment is:

1. Battlecruiser – Someone addicted to viewing divorce courts
2. Bread and cheese – A deconstructed grilled sandwich.
3. Cows and kisses – A cowboy’s check list for the weekend
4. Dicky dirt – transcripts of Nixon’s impeachment
5. Lady Godiva – The wife of  a noble snorkeler
6. Mork and Mindy – Mispronunciation of of a chop and a popular dance of the 30’s and 40’s
7. Daisy roots – Li’l Abner’s wife’s scalp when she didn’t have time to her monthly touchup.
8. Dustbin lid – A popular hat style in the Dirty Thirties
9. Peckham Rye –  to attack one’s sandwich with small appetite
10. Ruby Murray – Bill, of Groundhog Day and Ghostbusters, when embarrassed.

Here is the link to the prompt: https://pensitivity101.wordpress.com/2026/09/04/fibbing-friday-4th-september-2026/

Pull Up A Seat Photo Challenge

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Here is my house guest Julie and friends pulling up a seat at a friend’s party

Welcome to The Numbers Game 134. Today’s Number is 751!

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Welcome to “The Numbers Game #134.” Come play along. Today’s number is 751.

To play along, go to your  photos file folder and type the number 750 into the search bar. Then post a selection of the photos you find that include that number and post a link to your blog in myNumbers Game blog of the day. If instead of numbers, you have changed the identifiers of all your photos into words, pick a word or words to use instead, and show us a variety of photos that contain that word in the title. This prompt will repeat each Monday with a new number. If you want to play along, please put a link to your blog in comments below.

Here are my photos. Click on photos to enlarge and move on to next photo. Anxious to see yours!

La Manzanillo Mixed Media
Bon Voyage, Rebecca

A Wedding Haibun for dVerse Poets

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The wedding was simple, but wonderful with surprise guests showing up from every stage of my life: childhood, college, Australia, my former students from Wyoming, poet friends, friends from work, all my family from three different states, Bob’s kids and friends and even one lady I’d never met who flew to California from Wyoming because she thought it sounded like fun. Ha. I’d sent out the invitations as an announcement, but everyone came. Guess they had decided this was never going to happen and they had to see the evidence for themselves. 

Her past and present
wed as she was wed to him
as old loves met new.

We were to write a Wedding Habun for dVerse Poets

Giant PHotos of Trump go up on Federal Buildings Across Washington–One 8 stories Tall!!!

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Hey, this is Adam Schiff.

Investigators in my office uncovered the contracts behind the banners of Donald Trump’s face now hanging on federal buildings across Washington — the largest of them eight stories tall at the Department of Health and Human Services, with “America First” printed beside it:

MS NOW: Adam Schiff sheds new light on Trump’s taxpayer-financed banners in D.C.

The American people paid for every inch of it, and we have the receipts. $114,000 from the FAA. $39,000 from Interior. A third check from the Labor Department.

The list goes on and on.

Congress long ago outlawed spending taxpayer dollars on propaganda and self-aggrandizement, and an eight-story-high Donald Trump head certainly qualifies.

Because I spent years as a federal prosecutor, and I know a pattern of intent when I see one. In every country where democracy gave way to one man, the faces went up on the government buildings first. Not as decoration, and not even as vanity — but to teach the people who paid for those buildings a simple lesson: all of this belongs to him now.

And yet not one of those buildings belongs to Donald Trump. They belong to the American people, to the taxpayers who funded them. We were never asked, and we do not have to accept it.

“Moonshadows” for The Sunday Whirl Wordle 772

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Moonshadows

The moon casts silver shadows across my pebbled way.
Stones echoing the velvet recesses where they lay.
My heart follows no compass as it weaves its random path.
No drone marks its progress or charts its vagrant math.
A clipped leaf dries upon my chest where it has been thrust
and slowly, in the evening wind, turns from green to rust.

For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 772  the prompt words are:
velvet compass echo random rust silver shadow pebble stone drone clip dry

Cracking Open the Content Time Capsule: Vice Detection, Aug 30, 2016 Replay

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Mini-Bottles-517x218jdbphoto                

Vice Detection

Don’t you have to love the fellow
with ice cream on his diet Jell-O?

And the friend with heart of gold
who likes her painkiller freshly rolled,

or that occasional slip of tongue
that tells us how her husband’s hung?

This little “fuck,” that little “damn,”
the door that’s pulled closed with a slam––

the flaw that nearly escapes detection
that proves that no one is perfection?

The truth is, that though friends revere us,
faults are what really endear us.

Although piety is nice,
I’ll take my goodness spiced with vice!

For the What/When/ Where We Watch CFFC Challenge

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In a restauraunt, at the beach,
our camera’s always within reach.
Sky or water, heads or tails,
not a single photo fails
to tell a story, be it true
or some untruth once told to you.
I care not if it’s false or true
–what its inhabitants might do.
Just pick a picture, then tell me
whatever story you may see.

For the What/When/ Where We Watch CFFC Challenge

Compulsion to Rhyme II

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Thanks, Mom, for all of those early rhyming sessions

Compulsion to Rhyme II

By now you’ve read my oeuvre once or twice before.
It’s bulging out of file cases, stacked upon the floor.
It’s quickly filling up my blog and straying to the media.
Soon I fear I must compose my own encyclopedia.
It started out a habit but soon became compulsion.
My housecleaner surveys my poems with undisguised revulsion.
Spiders live within the files, cats use them for their beds,
so they serve grander purposes than cluttering up heads.
Perhaps someone could stop me with a cudgel or a gun,
but lacking that, I fear that when my final poem is done,
my heirs will have to market my oeuvre by the ton.

For Blast from the BlogII. A ryhme from Aug 29 in 2018.

A Different Perspective

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A Different Perspective

Still standing close,
each on our own side of this terrible rending,
how can we see things so differently?
This little flap of skin
you keep pulling open
wants to close.

This is how cancers start—
this worrying and worrying of an old injury.
My darling. Leave it alone
and let us heal.
This is only a biopsy
of our changed love affair.

If it is cut out of us,
it will be by your decision;
and no number of late-night arguments
will ever change that fact.
What you need to remember
the next morning,
you will remember.

If it were up to me,
we would still be friends,
but if you need an enemy
to console you in your actions,
I guess I must be that too.
I always was a figment
of your imagination.
Believe that
if it makes this easier for you.

For Poets & Storytellers United: Perspective