Fried potatoes with fresh baked meat –
Let us give thanks, all excluding the regretful vegan.
Thanksgiving isn’t our holiday, but since a larger part of the world gave thanks yesterday, I thought of chipping in with this piece. I’ve tried a different version of the Landay, and though I’ve broken a few rules, it was fun.
Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving.
National Blog Posting Month – #Day28
Born in Atlanta —
To a Swedish mother
And a Welsh father.
Started speaking when in Moscow,
Set little steps in Morroco.
Landed in an Irish high-school,
Passed an English junior-high.
Built an American corporate,
Lived with a Canadian model —
Married to a Mex dancer,
Fathered a confused offspring —
And died rootless — the nomad.
My response to this week’s Weekly Writing Challenge. I didn’t want to go with anything serious, and so I came up with this little poem-story of a nomad to add to my collection of Flash Fiction. Also it’s National Blog Posting Month – #Day27
“Code is poetry,” reads confused marketeer.
A 6 word story for my collection of Flash Fiction. In case “Code is poetry” sounded familiar – it is, here.
National Blog Posting Month – #Day20
Everyone’s buzzing away
rushing to and fro —
Looking to surpass bees.
Damn you, Monday.
It’s Monday, and for once, I’m busy working. What do you know, miracles happen!
National Blog Posting Month – #Day17
So you can imagine my thrill when I stumbled upon this little poem.
Dust If You Must — Kassie Webb
Dust if you must, but wouldn’t it be better
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed;
Ponder the difference between want and need?
Dust if you must, but there’s not much time,
With rivers to swim, and mountains to climb;
Music to hear, and books to read;
Friends to cherish, and life to lead.
Dust if you must, but the world’s out there
With the sun in your eyes, and the wind in your hair;
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain,
This day will not come around again.
Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
Old age will come and it’s not kind.
And when you go (and go you must)
You, yourself, will make more dust.
Such a simple thought — spend time doing what matters — yet so full of meaning.
What do you guys think of this poem?
National Blog Posting Month – #Day12
The Chaos Within 