Category Archives: Poetry

Egg on My Face

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Egg

I was reading the egg-cyclopedia for an un-egg-spected egg-sam when an egg-cellent and egg-stravagant thing happened.  An egg-splosion of egg-normous proportions occurred so I used it as an egg-scuse to egg-splore.  I was preparing for an egg-sotic eggs-hibition on the egg-loo while performing an egg-speriment on the egg-spansion of egg-sercise.  I wanted to egg-spand my egg-straordinary and egg-stensive egg-splanation when I thought of an egg-sample.  Nothing is too egg-streme of an egg-splanation.  Remember it’s important to egg-ercise your brain and go to egg-stensive lengths to egg-spress yourself in egg-stremely egg-citing ways.  Always be egg-sact and egg-spand on egg-samples so people get egg-cited about your topic.  That way they will be sad when you egg-sit and think you’re an egg-spert on everything.  Being egg-spressive with your egg-splanation is egg-istential to being an egg-sperienced person.  It’s egg-silarating.  There will be an egg-samination later so pay egg-stra attention.  If you egg-sist for an egg-ceptional eggs-change you will feel egg-uberant and will therefore egg-sist for a purpose.

Happy Easter!

Countdown to Meltdown

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mindless mind trip

running, spinning

out of control

mind mess

need less excess

panicking, sputtering

no body knows

where it will

stop and where

it will go

mind on a free fall

bending, breaking

doing all of this

has my body shaking

mind mush

Meltdown

My Best Friend

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My Best Friend

Grandpa, you’ll be my friend ’til the end.

I hear your name on the wind.

Grandpa, I love you now and I loved you then

I wish things could have been . . .

People used to criticize and scold you.

All I ever wanted to do was hold onto you.

I always felt I could understand you

and even if I couldn’t, I didn’t judge you.

I felt you deserved whatever you wanted.

Even if I did not agree.  It was not me.

I wish you were still here.

I’d tell you I love you more.

If not – what is love really for?

I need to talk to you.

I need to smell your aftershave

when I kiss you goodbye.

That smell is a lullaby.

You taught me how to ride my bike.

We never even had a fight.

You were always there for me.

You tried to teach me right from wrong

and sometimes even a little song.

Is it wrong to feel so sad?

I wouldn’t want you to be mad.

It’s just that when I think of you I well up inside

and feel like I want to hide.

Why aren’t you here when I need you most.

When you’re gone I feel so lost.

Sites to See Potpourri

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Some cool things I have found on my travels . . .

Miniature Artists Books – I love miniatures and books

Elephant with books

Elephant with books

Making paper with seeds – good Spring gift

Yoga sleep pose – from the Yoga Journal

Stereomode site – for whatever mood ails you

Tile Coaster DIY from The Cottage Home

The 99% – not the 1%, but the 99%

feel more better – If you want to feel better go here

the jealous curator – speaks for itself

Lists of Note – lists from all walks of life

Let me know what your favorite “go to” site is right now!

just yesterday

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Just yesterday

She was two

Oh how the time flies

I remember the birthday,

the fireworks, the beach

and the butterflies

Next was three and it’s

like a blur

and four came but

was overpowered with

Dora the Explorer.

Now we’re at five and

she’s getting away.  Fleeting

moments I wish would all

stay.  I know it’s normal

but I don’t want to go with

the flow.  Sometimes

I just want that little

baby who cried all

night and realize

it’s a fight I’ll never win.

Gotta let her go to Kindergarten

and walk up the stairs with that

backpack – so grown up.

I know I’m lamenting and

I’m really tired of the sassies

and things she says as she

passes.  Why is it so hard

to let go of time, when it’s

all that’s been on my mind

sometimes.

cherished chairs

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Race Antelope Chair 1951

Race Antelope Chair 1951

I am totally crushing on chairs right now. I guess it’s not a new obsession. As I survey my basement for things I’ve long misplaced, it’s chairs I need to move to get to a certain place. The old ones can be especially heavy. I’ve collected a lot of antiques over the years and the one item I can’t seem to get a hold on is chairs. There’s an Eastlake, an Eames; to me they’re all a dream. Think of all the stories they could tell if only they could talk; of times by the fire or even darning socks. Do people darn socks anymore? Anyway, chairs is the focus of this post and feel free to post a chair of your own if you dare. In a rhyming mood today I guess.

Eames chair

Eames chair

To see super cool furniture go to Race Furniture.

Hans Wegner 60s chair

Hans Wegner 60s chair

Might have been Freuds chair

Might have been Freuds chair

Arne Jacobsen Egg Chair

Arne Jacobsen Egg Chair

Vange foldy chairs

Vange foldy chairs

Respite from spite

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Spite, however slight,

will surely slight

the ones you love.

Remember this the next time something bothers you.  Instead of saying something out of spite, even something light, refrain.  The payoff will come back with great might.

The Work of the Shepherd

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Our Priest gave a very interesting sermon back in April and began by talking about how his father used to put their names on all their belongings so they wouldn’t get lost.

The message is we can never get lost from our Shepherd because we are sealed or “marked” with the holy spirit.

“Be the Church!” is what he said.

When you see someone on the street who doesn’t look like you remember they’re “Not the Other, but the Brother”.  We are all intertwined.

Sealed with the Spirit

Indeed we are

healed from within

was why he bore the scars.

Why did he do it

for people like us?

For people who

are not happy

but go around and fuss?

He did it for us.

It’s hard to believe

why a God so great

would choose that

as a time to celebrate.

You see, he knew, and

he tried to tell others,

why he was here

and what he’d discovered

but we didn’t understand

like sheep on the land

and went on living

in sin as we do.

In my bed awake

at night all alone

I think how

the savior bought me

and what I did for it

was nothing –

seems too much to bear.

God says sleep my

child because there’s

work to be done.  Fields

are ripe for harvest and

many are to be won.

Witness to others.  It’s one of our greatest gifts!

If not me . . .

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If not you then me.

If not me then who?

A vicious cycle

of things needing

done.

One becomes two

then three become

a ton.

Mountains of things

but not enough time.

All I can think about is

hitting rewind.

Play it back slowly.

And then understand

why changing a light

bulb is much easier than

asking a man.

LOL

Going on six

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Five is what she’s going to turn.

My stomach does a double roll.

Kindergarten is next

then she’s counting the days until

she’s six.

What will I do when she’s gone

and I am not with her each day.

How will I play when

Lucy Grace is away.

I will become an adult

again.  I will become

old and wilt.  I remember

I’m her mom and that

will never change.  I

can be there at every age

and every stage

and I can be me too.

I will take this time

for me; for in a way

I will also be free to be

me.