You taught me to be a 'yes man'You ground me down like saltI once was full of questionsNow I ignore every faultYou taught me to be a 'yes man'You hated to hear 'no'So if you walk towards a cliffI'll just smile and let you go

0430 Military time, 8 year old Theo would wake up, clean up, put on his dungarees, and fill up with whatever Mama bought that week.  By 0515 get to the corner for the farm truck to come by. Everyone there was speaking another language, yet they came to know him well. Theo was from an old mold, they said. They all remembered starting work so young in "the Old Country." Some never spent a day in school. Life was to be worke...

Are the fireflies dead? I have not seen them since I was a child. Are they wounded? Are they leaving us like the butterflies? Do you think they are fallen angels or faeries? Oh, how they danced for me weaving living lightly through my fingers. Like the butterflies do they weave chaos in the afterglow of the Aurora Borealis? Have you watched two dance in a jar? What joy they brought me as a child. Like all faeries say a pr...

In sorrow we pay our deepest respect. There is tragedy in joy. Numb in endless ways. Find solace in bright stars. Find as the shaman say the face of your buda. The cost with out is one bright penny. Some play at humanity some ride the light. Tumble with me. See hope shine. Walk with these few words. Do a kind deed, perhaps. I know time holds us like a straight jacket. The earth does as well. Find a blue day and love it tr...

I don't want to ask any more questions. But I must to find piece. Yet  I don't understand. The pain. The rain. Or a baby's laugh. I can not understand how thick the plots can be. It saddens me that songs live brighter lives than poems. The longest day has the brightest night. The Strongest whiskey won't chase the most jagged afterglow. Women and men are broken bow and an ax left in the dirt and lost in the sand. It is a q...

Tarring trees and the tops of flowers. I never ment to plow reap or sow. God save the flowers from my heavy hands. My heart doesn't laugh anymore it is too hard to open bitter lips. Sealed with an urgent yet quiet kiss, they are frozen. I wonder if she passes me by on the street. I wonder if she truly was. Or was she the bitter metaphor of a strungout lovejunkey. Will you never sing or laugh again monkey? Revive your soul...

I was watching, amused, as two girls had a tiff over one of the activity boards. One of the girls stood up and made to walk away. The other girl said something I couldn't make out. The girl who was standing turned around, put her hands on her hips and declared loud and proud, "Don't care, grumpy bear!" then she stormed off in dramatic four-year-old fashion. That's a great line. I'm using that in any future tiffs or argume...

There're crawly things down there. Damp and dusty and moldy. Has to be done. Maybe a drain needs to be snaked out. Costs a lot. Maybe you're the only one can crawl through. Someone has to do it. Once, long ago, your dad was too old and you did the job. The last time you were older than your dad had been. But, still, you're doing the work. Doing dirty jobs that need to be done. Some have never had dirty hands. Not literall...

Coming from within the kids' bathroom I heard the unmistakable sounds of children laughing, a pause, some low sounds that I could not quite make out from where I was, then the loud sound of laughter once more. Walking across the classroom, the low sounds became clearer, as a picture was painted as to what the children were doing in the bathroom when they were supposed to be getting changed after having some fun summer wat...

How can I start this letter? My name is Walter Cole. I lived at 25 Maple Avenue, Greenwood Town, Maine. I’m not a native American, I moved here from Europe. Firstly, if you ever read this, go straight to the police. Of course, I know they won’t believe all this right away, but hopefully, they will start an investigation to reveal the truth. Down below, I tried to describe all that has happened to me as well as I could. It...

Growing up Ranch Chapter 9 Working and Exploring  Work. That four letter word we all grow to know eventually. Growing up "Ranch" meant that work started early in life and was intertwined with an element or curiosity that I will call "exploring". The line between the two was often blurred. Work was also so much a part of ranch life that it was something I looked forward to rather than dreaded. Getting to be part of the fam...

My Uncle Dave was an electrician by trade much like his father, my Grandpa Vernon. He retired from the power company and became a private electrician. One night we were in town for a visit to Grandma Mary and it came up a windy rain storm.Uncle Dave came in and sat down and related the following story. He had just been called over to “Old Lady ___’s.” She had lost power during the storm and had called Dave to get her ligh...

I work in childcare, a job I love and enjoy very much. No two days are the same and the children definitely keep me on my toes, but I would not change it for the world. I love my job. As you probably guessed from the title, this is just a little piece about the conversations I have had with the children over the course of my job. I was on the early shift one morning, and as I walked into the daycare centre I finished my c...

I suppose I am what many would call a left wing intellectual, although that is a much abused term. Certainly I have spent most of my life in academia and the laboratory, and by no means could I be called an artisan. However, although my parents were middle class — respectively a civil servant and a primary school secretary — I was the first in modern times to go to university. This was at a time in the UK when only 5% of...

Ah, there you are. Please do come in. Make yourself comfortable.Who are we? Well, we’re what you might call Senior Management – but never mind about that now. It’s not important, and all will be made clear in just a little while.See, you’ve been a real asset to The Company over the last few years, and we want to give you a reward – a reward beyond anything you could ever have expected. And yes, that requires that you be s...