The naked truth about Cheetos, leaving me sweating in my birthday suit. Playing, "Olly olly gluten-free," with a bag of Cheetos. Waiting for my dip to come in with the evening's fries. With catsup on the side, dripping into my beenie weenies without an in...
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Musings Stories
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.
Jerry Lee Lewis has the juice but where has Tabasco gone for my redeye gravy and memories turned to shade on a stone beneath bones of the Magnolia Pluckin' the ol' gitfiddle of one's life with death's obituary and a Dr. Pepper and leftover dreams of sad s...
A bushel full of my eye. In fields of autumn and the cornstalks. With the shadow of the cider mill and the glowing meadows among the pumpkins. Giving inspiration as the wind's calliope dances. Seeking antiquity's faith and salivation. Based on Philosophy...
The Other Side
The underside of Mardi Gras is a sight to see.New Orleans. A city of many beautiful colors, parades, and traditions. It is rich in historic homes and buildings. It is known worldwide for its lavish street festivals and outstanding performers. It's known for its grand celebration of the Mardi Gras hol...
In my hand, the sand shaker and the utensil which I scribble. In the throat of the dark, I sleep in the inkwell. Hearing the footfalls of voices. "This little piggy, he brings a fork..." From the shadow space of bedlam's widow. Now a hollow shell on the p...
Listening to Chuck-will's-widow singing the same song of loneliness as nightjars pulling at my heart when I should be sleeping with the cruise of the night and dreaming of my rocking horse with a wink from mom's eye sailing off in a wooden shoe listening...
Away from the carbon dioxide and the clatter of the city and the citizenry sleepwalking. Away from the mainstream and their need to know. Now breathing fresh air from the manifolds in the trees. No rabbit hole to hide in or Johnny B. Goode in Police unifo...
Ashes Away
An ode to special friendHair of coal Eyes made from chocolate Lips soft as feathers Body adorned in tats of many colors Everything capped off with occasional piercings This is how I see you in my dreams Through eyes blinded by your beauty I see the light of your inner self shini...
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The Beach Beckons Me
Will I let a little cool breeze keep me inside?After days of fog and overcast skies, the sun shines brightly today. The still-chilly air doesn’t bother the tourists, but I’m content to view the beach from my window. The water, so rough and wavy yesterday, is calm and serene to gaze at today. Occasiona...
From the larder of my portmanteau. I address the coming of the beast. Rocking the wooden horse, wearing shoe lifts from Abercrombie & Fitch. Beating a brass spittoon with a gewgaw in the asylum of my mind's cabaret. Scratching at my feet of raven clay, ta...
I had a dream last night. It was a silly dream about a class reunion. I couldn’t remember my classmates' names and they were trying to make me guess. I went to get my yearbook to help me. I remembered all the classmates who had died and I thought for a mo...
Geez, I Wonder Why
Snowmobiling for gullible dummies…“You know the trails? You have GPS?” Done and done. On that fateful day, I broke one of my cardinal rules: Do Not Ride With Strangers. But we were new to the area. He wasn’t. He had GPS. We didn’t. Sure, just like everyone else, my iPhone had Google Maps....
In the lazy daze days of Junebugs, swinging on an old used tire hanging from a tree. The dust would kick up from the dried red clay. The Peanut Man would come along, singing something about, "Old fools..." My shoestrings were full of knots, but I paid it...
The woman whose name I can't say, for anonymity is the golden rule. But you may know a friend like mine. Her ex had broken her heart, but not before wearing her down, not unlike a pair of Worn tennis shoes, so dingy that you wrinkle your nose while Smelli...
On boulevards of broken dreams where the sidewalk ends touched again by memories only to end as a fantasy with a broken heart and wrinkle nose from the incense, I suppose, knowing how this symphony ends on boulevards of broken dreams