IMPROMPTU PROMPTED BLOGGERISH

I FEEL A POEM COMING ON --- BURP!

April is the month to write poetry.
If you write a poem you can show it me.
If I ever do.
I'll show it to you.
But it might be so bad you'll throw it at me!



Whenever I have a bad day I hope to come home to an empty house.  Because the badness can usually be attributed to other people.  I do keep a multitude of animals outside though.  I talk to them after resting.


3-16-15  through  3-17-15

A story which I think of as a reconciliation between Ayn Rand and Karl Marx entitled "The Butler Did It"  will, I hope, eventually appear in my port.


I'm listening to an NPR interview with Barney Frank.  I always admired him, but I didn't realize he was such a fascinating man.  I have to listen more closely.


Nothing makes a difference, but any action makes a change.


Reality is an infinity of multiplicity within the singularity.
A multiple, duplicitus diversity, compressed into unity.
A multiversisitude of lines, all ending right where they start.
Time, for me, is a straight line, transdimensionaly connecting every future to every past intersecting at my present.
If forever was the same as neverI would spend my time right now.
If blue was blew, unhappiness would be a moth in the wind.


An early memory.  I'm in a movie theater with my mother and paternal grandfather, (and possibly other relatives), a newsreel playing on the screen.  My grandfather has me stand on my seat and yell - Harry Ass Truman.  I must have been 2 or 3.  Back then, in my family, it was a sin to be a democrat.  My mother used to tell me about, brag about, be proud of the fact,that she and her friends had a party to celebrate the occasion of Franklin Roosevelt's death.


Finished Book:  The Daughters by Consuelo Saah Baehr and  The Shelters Of Stone by Jean M. Auel