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Showing posts from March, 2014

Cold Day at the Roundhouse (Blogophilia 6.7)

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Grey skies and a stiff breeze off the river greeted Hart as he left the building.  "Another nippy day at the Roundhouse", he thought as he took out his lunch. A strapping young man made bigger by the work on the rail cars, he was glad for a short break. Even at sixteen, he was known as "Big Man" for his 6 foot 8 inch frame and hard shoulders.  He'd only been working at the rail yard for a few months and Jack. Gilligan , the Foreman  had moved him from Boilerman to Switchman when he found out he could read. Most of the men didn't even know their numbers, much less whole words. It wasn't that hard of a job. The Locomotives would pull into the Roundhouse, where other Switchmen would detach the couplings and push the cars back into the yard. Hart would then pull the rail switches to allow the cars to fall in place in the pattern required by the Yardmaster. Because he was such a strong kid, he was able to wrangle most cars where they needed to be. It

In A Bad Starbucks (Blogophilia 5.7)

Barista faces me La belle fille sans merci Greasy hair tucked sloppily In a standard issue green cap Slappable face sneers out "What will you have?" It could be any Of the cloned places Providing Pizza, or chicken, Or sandwiches. A very small cog Trying to control The human seasons. Just a drop Of the Java Jive To kill an hour Before a meeting Leather chairs by the door Invite me to stop Three chord blues Piped in from the corporate office Settle fragile nerves That meeting can wait. 

Remember When (Blogophlia 4.7)

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No story this week. No poem. Maybe a rant from an aging fool. Aristotle is quoted as saying "Happiness depends on ourselves." What did he know, he deliberately poisoned himself to avoid treason charges. When we were young, we were told all things were possible and then warned there would be consequences if the actually tried that. And as we grew older, we found out our elders were right. And we grow more risk adverse as more and more information comes in, all of in the form of cautionary tales of what can go wrong. But, some of us push through the fear.  Bernie Marcus started as a Pharmacist and found out he liked the front of the store more than behind the drug counter. He pushed on and learned all he could about retailing.  Along the way, he met a thin accountant named Arthur Blank in Los Angeles. Together, they became a threat to their boss and got fired. They pushed through the fear of financial ruin and moved 2400 miles away to open a new Hardware concept

Turmoil (Blogging Lounge #5)

Turmoil, huh? You want the latest war on the news? Or the pudgy woman cowering beneath the hand of her partner? Or the child in the next room crying in the closet, thinking she is next? Or any other human failing that we can come up with? Nah.  I'd want to join in and that's too much work. 

Gossamer Wings

Gossamer wings with a velvet touch A slip of a faerie in my sleep Silken umber curls draping across my chest. Where have come from Flying in from the night? Sadness drifts away With the waning moon Knowing more than you should Knowing less than you need You leave Love and doubt in your wake.

A night at Calibogue. (Blogophilia 2.7)

Hunter moon throws satin light Across Calibogue Sound Lighting the empty table Cardboard cartons, fortune cookies In crumbs on painted surface. Slips of paper laid carefully One says "It's all in the stars" The other "My favorite holding Period is forever". A lipstick stained glass Sits next to a plain one Silk dress laid carefully Over the chair. Barefoot prints leading to water. The man puts his camera away. The job is done Client will be pleased.  

Dear Chris. (Blogging Lounge #4)

Dear Chris, Yeah, it's me. The future. Thought you would never hear from me, eh? Thought I didn't exist past 20? Well, you were wrong. The world didn't end and you didn't kill yourself in a blaze of glory like you thought you would. Oh, I know. "Live fast. Die young. Leave a beautiful corpse.". Yet, you never would qualify for the last one. Yeah, you are blotto from the graduation parties now. And you (half heartedly) have enrolled at college for the fall. You remind me of the kid in the song "Captain Jack." At least I can tell you that heroin is not in your future. But everything else is. Thing is, if you would just relax and not let so much get to you, you would be so much better off. The voices in your head? Oh, they are still here, but I still ignore them. They never have good advice. Loosen up and take more risks. And ignore that whiny drunk woman on the couch. All she wants is for you to join in her misery and do nothing.