A.G.E's Joint

On the wall it sits Judging. Mocking All who look in. Vanity and curiosity Prompt Urge The view What do I see? Grey Wrinkled Youth that has fled But on the edge Vaporous Spirit Wanting to escape. The shackles of Care Want Jealousy Built over time Only when the shell Meets Earth Will it rise towards eternity. 

“Man, am I sore.  I have never in all my days seen anything like that.  What in the world got into those people?  One minute, I’m just standing here catching rays. The next I’m as naked as Eve in the garden.   Look at all the holes up here in my top.  That's where those crazies got the fronds. And if you don’t think that doesn’t hurt, you’ve got another thing coming.” “Anyway, earlier today I’m just standing here, well, I AM a tree after all. when I hear this incredible noise coming from down in the valley  It sounds like the village people got into the wine again.  And I ain’t wrong.  Here comes this huge mob up the sheep path yelling and dancing. I heard something about a big festival happening.  Most of the time, I don't care what they do.  Frankly, people are only good for dropping dates on, you know?  But the party was coming my way" “Boy, was it. Someone yelled; ‘There he is!  Clear a passageway for him!' The men started climbing me and started ripping

Sun rises High in the sky Gorgeous day A new day, Modern Modonna Takes her lover. She Takes it to the Limit , pauses Twists around Encompassing view Breath taken away. Spent Like the blossoms around them. Already in seed.

On Alana's Writercize blog she suggests taking a name from either a random name generator or a short story you are working on and list a number of characteristics for them.  I choose Kari Summers, who is in the Streetlights series that I've published on this blog and a longer story that I am editing. Kari is: An aging hippie Prefers long skirts Doesn't mind the grey streaks in her raven hair Drives an old VW camper Works as a bartender on occasion. Buys, sells and makes silver jewelry Has never married Has never had children Has no living relatives Took care of her mother through her final illness Has a reputation for being a "Death Angel" Questions authority Questions humanity Doesn't get along with other women, even though she has one night stands with them. Is something of a loner Smokes a lot of pot Drinks fairly heavily Lives in the house she was born in. Though she has traveled quite a bit, always returns to her Eastside Atlanta hom

Something you need to know about me to understand where my writing comes from, I am the child of alcoholics.  My Mother died at age 62, enjoying her ill health and large quantities of vodka.   My father lasted much longer. He was always a good breadwinner, but struggled nightly against the bottle.  I am the youngest of five kids and as such, became the target for many of my Mother's tirades.  I  was an "oops" child.  That is, the result of both of them angrily resolving whatever argument by having sex.  So, here I am. I had lunch with one of my sister's on Saturday and we started swapping war stories.  As we were going through the various binge sessions, I recounted the time I had the police called on me because I had "stolen" the family car.  I was a Senior in high school and we were living in an apartment on the North side of Atlanta.  I was the only child left at home by this time.  My Dad spent most of his time on business trips, so it usually was

The Attorney is in the room Blue and silver suit Gleams. The couple stares at him. They don't know where this is Going. Anger and betrayal Marked their lives to this Point. Tempers flare and desperation Builds In the room. The Attorney Waits. His skill is not the written solution, But the finality, As one picks him up and Fires. 

  Another hot Friday night at on the patio at Good Ol’ Days and we were at our normal spot on the patio.  The evening was warm and the beer was cold.  We had hung together since elementary school and now that we were in college, little had changed.  Friday and Saturday nights were spent at a table in a bar somewhere.  The fact it was the Fourth of July weekend just made it more of an excuse to down pitchers of beer and eat Flower Pot sandwiches.   The tab was on its second trip around the table, when the discussion turned to what everyone was going to do the next day.  There was going to be a pool party, but that didn’t start until later on.  Someone said  we should float on the Chattahoochee River.  And in the drunken fog, that sounded like a damn fine idea.  We had access to a couple of six man rafts, so equipment wasn’t going to be problem.  Transportation back would be.  But we would call someone when we got there.   Everybody agreed to meet at the boat landing at

In snooping around for what to write on, my eyes landed on Ice Water Castles .  I wasn't sure why this was speaking to me more than the others, but it was.  Then I remembered a little piece I saw on the Hotel De Glace (Ice Hotel).  A concept borrowed from Sweden, this Quebec landmark is open from January to March.  It has as much natural air conditioning as you can stand and one of the wilder bars in the western hemisphere.   You can be like Lady Godiva and prance naked in the snow out to the bubbling spa.  This would be without her horse, Aethenoth , who would surely stumble on the ice.  I'm sure those who actually try this have to contort like a circus acrobat to make it from the changing room.    You are cordially invited to stay there.  But I won't be joining you.  I live 2000 miles south of there and I  don't like cold THAT much. 

You join your hands in the spring of your lives. And as you walk through the summer and fall, Through planting and harvests, Through rain and storms,  Remembering they are needed to grow, May it be that in the deep winter of your lives, When you must part, You are still holding hands . Copyright Christopher Mitchell 1999, 2007, 2012.

Bar Old wood waiting For the next Customer On the rocks Glass Crystalline cubes Beckon to soothe A hurting soul Amber Liquid spills down Chilling the hammer Chasing memories Of Love lost like Eighty percent.  All alone Barmaid Takes pity And makes him Among her twenty.

Centaur Joe is getting old His forelimbs ache from the cold. She shuffles through the woods. He still doesn't care. Many suns and many moons. Have passed over his meadow. His centaur mate still grazes there. He doesn't know why. He stay close to his trees. Whil his mind travels far. He never fails to speak. He feels younger then. Centaur Joe is in reverie. The lioness approaches. He doesn't fear her. He knows it is his time. Centaur Joe is gone now. His mate weeps at the loss. The trees shed their leaves In honor of his passing

Choices Have Consequences Leading to more choices Making you have more consequences This is part of being an adult Teenagers can't Understand Consequences Make life complicated And we spend the Rest of our lives Wishing for  Simplicity

It’s a new Blogophilia season, and it is time for the meet and greet.  My name is Christopher Mitchell.  For years I used the nickname “Another Government Employee” (6 th house on right, off 9-27, PDK-Atlanta).    As the name suggests, I work for a Government agency.  Specifically, I work for our State’s Employee Pension Program.  It is my mission to assist my fellow worker bees over the life transition that is retirement.   These people worked for years to prepare for this.   How hard can it be?  The end of a career is as stressful as any other job change.  Think about the times you were laid off or fired from a position.  Did you have dreams of being on an airplane?  That you were going somewhere that you didn’t want to go?  And when you arrive at the new job.  Will they like me?  Can I handle the work?  Where is the coffee? The end of a career has the same problems.   The client is facing a set of parameters that they have never seen before.  My client list ranges from sc