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Musings

Our Musings category focuses on speculation, reflection and deep thought, covering everything from self-contemplation to humorous views on life in general. This is the place to submit your thoughts on spiritual matters or philosophical subjects and to share your feelings on any topics you’ve ever pondered or wondered about.

1

Gold Ribbons

I remember the window of the sun. I remember the peeling paint on the picket fence. I remember when the sun never winked until noon. Then came the summer rains as a spark tore the blue and umbrellas dripping rainbows. I remember little Lord Jesus and the drummer boy. Most of all, I remember my granny's sewing box and gold ribbons of when she was a young girl.  ...Read On

2

Dust Motes

This is how I come to love the dark in writing. Without a map. Now comprised of Trappists and interesting people. From my bookshop's Rolodex. It started with a fascination. Then withdrawing from my insomnia while stroking my black cat. Now I am living in the dark aware of my proclivities to steep my tea with a bit of truth. There is honesty in the dark when a shadow is my muse. It started...Read On

3

Charlie

I remember. "Get Wildroot Cream-Oil, Charlie." To slick back my hair, in a duck style. It was the rage, as cooties slipped in the grease. I remember my mom's bonnet hat pins. I remember Little Lulu in the comic strips. What happened to the ashtrays in cars? I remember fried chicken on Sundays after Church. I remember my little puppy dog. I remember playing Red Rover with my friends. Where...Read On

5

No More Lum 'n Abner

I lost my youth when the radio died. No more Lum 'n Abner, sponsored by Frigidaire. I miss the static. Where have all the furrows gone, when planting potatoes? Now just a wrinkle in memories, buried in rows.  Where has the sawmill gone that cut the lumber? Now but a gate with peeling paint and a rusted hinge. But I remember Tom Sawyer. No more milk in glass bottles.  Where are the strings...Read On

1

The Bridge

Crossing the bridge of embers burned. Where have all my ghosts gone? On a night painted with snow. So silently my mind drifts to when we were but young lovers. Spanning memories of our lagoon, when we were like dolphins. So in love. Where has the calliope of music gone?  On the midway of our love's blessings. Crossing the bridge of embers burned.     ...Read On

0

Blue Eyes Daisy

In latitude between Autumn and Spring. As the shadow of the solstice kisses me goodnight with your smile in profile. Bury me lazy, with your blue eyes daisy. Feed me breadcrumbs of memories in the solemn of my oak portmanteau. Beneath the lights, of when we were young, as the trellis grew red roses. When the world wasn't so crazy. In latitude between Autumn and Spring.  Bury me lazy, with...Read On

1

God's Pilot Light

Darkness is my pilot light. Slipping the bonds of twilight. Letting dreams come to me, as I listen to the evening bells. No dreams too far, to touch my star. That embraces the truth of who you are. A winter's solstice, closer to God.  Slipping the bonds of twilight.  Darkness is my pilot light.   ...Read On

1

Dreaming

Do we ever stop dreaming, will the sun melt,  where does night go when the moon sleeps,  are there rainbows, when the clouds cry, do we ever stop dreaming, if the felt-tip dries?    ...Read On

0

Spewing My Coocoo With Algorithms

Night bears witness, with the dark of the eyesores. Dripping from webs of pale cataracts. In silence as the oysters of rainfall. Like a mist. An invocation of madness to my mind's pendulum. With metaphors of rum, done right, and the profane jesters for poet's daily bread. In my hand's deformity as I dot my I's. Before the ink dries and coagulates. As I cork the bottle of rum's night...Read On

10

How Much Is The Doggie in the Window?

How much is the doggie in the window

 

3

An Open Letter: Arte's Thoughts

I'm just a visitor, but even I can see what's wrong here.

Dear Humans, You're all so weird! Sorry, let me start that again. I've been on your planet for 35 years. I've witnessed some things that I wouldn't want anyone else to, yet people do. I've seen the world through the eyes of a baby, growing up to become an infant, child, teenager, and finally adult. When I was a baby, things were simple: Cry for attention, sleep most of the time, play for...Read On

13
Recommended Read

Letting Go

 

5

Always dream

Dreams from the past How things were Of what could be What will be someday Promises to keep Always have and always will Nothing will change Dream and believe The magic Should and will be...Read On

0

Shadows Of

Raining down shadows of cypress leaves. The bog's clock, tick-tocks dark souls, I have known. Paled as heaven's tarnished pewter, walking through the wickets of Hades. As the cicada imps screech, from my mind's journal. The lights wink out as I sleep, a dreamer of dreams. Raining down shadows of cypress leaves. Reaching out to bury me, as the siren's of autumn gives me new life. Caressing...Read On

What Is Life All About?

How I learned a new perspective on life.

Eons ago, when I was young, I lived in submarines. For someone who loves the mountains, it was a silly place to be. I was in an unhealthy space, and close to a nervous breakdown. I spent a lot of time wondering what life was all about. In the end, I decided it didn’t matter. I did, however, come to a conclusion. When I am near the end, and am asked, ‘ Have you done the things you wish...Read On

0

Waiting

Without the sun there would be no raining silk  living and breathing in the gospel of my soul  in the silence of raptures of God's shadow  on the bright side of the rainbow far from the dark of past memories  waiting for the chariot to carry me home.  ...Read On

0

Yesterday

Yesterday a butterfly, on the fly today the rain of Spring, April brings then came the rose, with a scent of you touching my nose without arms, just two wings.  ...Read On

2

Best Fauntleroy

Particles of death lay beneath stone, of gristle and marrow. Chiseled with reference to. In my slippery state of being bones. Wishing I wasn't alone. Two percent bleach, with a bottle of Red. Butterflies between my teeth with a condiment of being Dead. Dressed in my best Fauntleroy, with the devil in my phone. Connecting me to my widow, beneath another stone....Read On

1

COVID-19

Slowly the curtain comes down, dark rises over catacombs and ossuaries of bones  regurgitating the dialysis of my death  as the tallow drips my impending journey awakening a moth of my sinning quill  across the barren lands of COVID-19.   ...Read On

2

Puppeteer

The imps of twilight light upon a broken stitch  of life's hypocrisy and death's sewing basket the thimble be mine and thread be strife like a puppeteer in Hell from gothic shell two steps from Sodom and Gomorrah pulling the strings of Armageddon shaking the salt.     ...Read On

5

A telling off

I got told off today. Not unusual at all, really. The little person who told me off has not long turned two, and already she is quite the character. I made the observation to one of my colleagues that she ought to be a teacher when she's older, as she's quite bossy.  I really do enjoy the company of this child. I like all the children I teach, of course, but she and I have this rapport...Read On

3

Shadow Of Gertrude Jekyll

It was a melancholia of the rose, and thorns of my dark compose. With a spiritual ardor of love on the cusp of mysterious. In shadow of Gertrude Jekyll paling to a night shade. As my pen drips it's nectar with a damask fragrance, from the atomizer's mist. Warming me with a kiss beneath the pantomime moon. With a breath of life's refresh. Climbing the trellis at twilight, paling to a night...Read On

9

My Truth is Lonely

My Truth is Lonely. I imagine yours is, too. Mine can’t be shared; I suspect the same for you. Truth weighs heavily upon its owner because Truth destroys. Only fools say “Just tell the Truth. It’s the best thing to do.” Revealing a Truth always harms someone it seems. Typically Someone I know. Someone I love. I suspect the same for You. Is Truth measured by the amount of harm it causes?...Read On

3

Snot-Nosed Frat Boys

How some people are just rude.

When I started college at Ohio State, I was living in an apartment with two of my older brothers. My third year of college, I had to move into the dorms. When I moved, I had more social opportunities with women. So, I would ask a girl out on a Friday or Saturday, to one of the High Street clubs for some beer and dancing.  More often than not, when I was dancing with my date, a snot-nosed...Read On

9

Fore!

The worst word in golf. I know, it’s part of the etiquette of the game, but it’s the part we all hate to shout or hear. It’s one of those things in the arsenal of golf, like mulligans and do-overs and foot wedges. Once the dreaded “Fore!” has been uttered, golfers all over the course scramble for trees or wrap their arms around their heads and do the “ants-in-the-pants-dance” like they...Read On

8

This Day and Age

I remember attic fans in the summer and radiators in the winter and if you backed into it trying to get warm, you burnt your ass. I remember linoleum floors. Stovetop percolators. Gas stoves you had to light with wooden matches. I remember glass bottles of milk with cardboard stoppers on the porch. Wall phones with 15-foot cords hanging in the kitchen. Screen doors with long springs...Read On

4

A Goodbye Letter to a Good Friend

All Relationships End in Great Tragedy.

Right now I want to rage as only another redhead can understand. We have only known each other for a few weeks but I think we both felt a connection. I tried to keep myself from becoming too emotionally attached to you too fast but I guess I failed miserably. I woke this morning and I got the message of your passing from your aunt, feeling stunned, and I can feel the...Read On

5

How to Have a Merry Christmas (or any holiday).

Don’t get upset at imperfection.

I discovered the secret to having a Merry Christmas long ago. It was Christmas Eve 1993. I stopped by my brother Gene’s home to drop off the presents I had gotten for my nephews, John and Nic. John was 9 years old and Nic was 7 years old. It was about 7 pm and I was invited to go to Midnight Mass. I enjoyed the time before mass playing with my nephews.  I had just been dumped by my long...Read On

8

I Am Imperfect

I am imperfect. Made of torn flesh and broken bones. Dreams crushed like stone to gravel and hope wasted on the likes of me.   Once an Alpha dog now relegated to solitaire howling. The younger man in the mirror looks back at the older man he now is and remembers the halcyon days of youth.   Aching muscles lift a decrepit body to bear armor one more day. For each day risen is...Read On

9

Enemies and Allies

Individuals are always vulnerable to betrayal.

Medieval times or modern times, knight or soldier, one's word must be believable, and one's actions must follow. It can define you as an enemy or an ally, a friend or a foe. Time and modernity has not changed that measurement of trust. Man or woman, boy or girl, trust can be a treasure. Honor is a gift to yourself. The abandonment of an oath results in loss to both parties. First felt...Read On