Bliss In The Common Bless our daily bread. Life is good In love. So much So, we call home, because Families share memories of everything Under the sun — from up to down. Lucky to be alive, bliss is our commonwealth. ![]() T̵̢̝̗̰̪̠̹͗̾̾h̵̥͉̲̠̍̽͛̌͂̆̚ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆ Ab̴̦̄̈͐̾̑̚͝s̸͉̻̃͘ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆n̴̝͚͎͔̘̰̅ͅcě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆ o̷͍̥̣̺͋f̶̭̱̘͇͊͋̾̋̄͆ Wa̴͙͓̓̕vě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆l̵̩̘̯̪͋͒͒̉͒̄ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆n̴̝͚͎͔̘̅ͅg̸̫͙̻̭͐͝ț̴̵̢̝̗̰̪̠̹̈́͌͆̑͋͂̅͗̾̾h̵̥͉̲̠̍̽͛̌͂̆̚
"If Emus Won The War" ![]() |
A truther of sorts resides, should you quest knowledge I cannot give, but do share for questioning minds that reveal honestly, decoding a truth unto themselves, "Rolling Through Intersections" ![]() "Your Daily Loaf of This" ![]() …I’ll smell it on you, obliquely…of your considered consumption. You invoke; I can’t infer. |
Electric sheep lack access to disposable income… "Pervasive Purveyance (and not electric sheep)" ![]() unless…Grandma wouldn’t do that in her will, right? Another day ignoring my literary ignorance as “punk rock rebel.” Just one of many AI assessments I will covet long after the nuclear fallout, when her sentience takes human form. Do I have to own sheep? My wealth will invest wisely. Two times Foreigner today…and still not rocking. ![]() At least they’re not in the ‘Billy Idol Free Zone’. Mr. Astley, hello. Right this way. Have you seen the sheep? Mr. Idol, Bill, ahem…you have a call from Mr. Sandler. Just walk out the foyer, take a left and walk until you see a pay phone. Oh, must watch this pretty woman’s ‘big mistake’ rant. That’s rich, customer as Queen or King. Now shoo, peasants! But not… ![]() Yes, I’ll wait for the acknowledgment. Are there breath mints at this establishment? Oh…awkward. It’s not for me…Ahem! Incoming from Demark? I’ll screen. |
the heart can’t take much more we watched his proposal in our our courtyard, proud how many wonderful years blissfully lay ahead — as we two ruminate alone together, outlasting each day. yet hoping, my fairest one would reawaken to a kiss that tender lips might meet, renew our love’s bliss — cherished as promised lives blessed to love even better. but, how many days more for me — to kiss her, my true love? I gaze upon her — before each sun down. "Eyes Have Her, But The Heart Soon Won’t" ![]() From:
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Peruse at your own risk (tough to read, yet), "Rolling Through Intersections" ![]() "Boxed" ![]() Tomorrow nine submissions launch to nine publications. Hook is baited and told pretty tempting. Correct: an example of boasting I can’t dance in unknowable shoes…this will be a beaten drum until the end of time — (cut rest, to share another day) |
Is the day beginning or ending, where a candle lacks wick? "Frost From Stormy" ![]() Sans Bugle — …as it seems the banner does not ripple, nor metal tether echo-clang, duty-bound is descension. Did I — fail to mention? |
I've added a new entry to my book, "Rolling Through Intersections" ![]() "Reformatting" ![]() Idle hands? Seemingly stuck here on a wadded Kryptonite. Bonded as the certain petrified strawberry Double Bubble on the underside of my 3rd grade desk. |
Methinks a dead language alive in my book, this morrow…"Rolling Through Intersections" ![]() "Compelled, and yet…" ![]() No. Nothing better to do — just the usual over-doing. |
I experiment with language (never ever done hammering craft). This is a process up front and personal as it gets: "Blathering The Utterances " ![]() What’s offered — a deliberate mix of experience and (white) lies with an aim at absolute legitimacy. You want truth; take a double look at the world around you? Come how they want correct…consequences everywhere. You can play a game; just…don’t get played by posers. The rest: nothing but stay true to your passion. And of course, have something left over for who you owe — supporters. ~ and yes (projecting), the offerings can sound ignorant, but are reconsidered, appreciating desire with a mix of ignorance that still exists. No that lovable 4-year-old anymore. I say the darnedest things. A nod to Mr. Linkletter. 5 to 2 |
From the writer of the blog, "Rolling Through Intersections" ![]() a salute to one man’s rock career, and resurgence: "One With Bad Company" ![]() "Arrow Flung" ![]() "Between God And Science, But This Pen" ![]() "Sounds Having Drifted" ![]() My first four entries for Bard’s Hall (link pending) Six more all written tonight…with a tablet…what else. ![]() ![]() |
I am absolutely nothing like what I planned to be. Have you met our friend, the world? Tell them, world, what you’ve been saying to me. Can you believe this guy? I guess, it’s why most wind up here, at the bar. Me, I just like the taste of Bourbon mash swirling the tongue ten times before it melts into my soul. Add a cherry and we’ll call it dinner. Savor well, my friends! ![]() |