Early Morning

Outlines in memory foam lie

with tales of

nothing in common, no

communal tacks of occupation

to bridge the gaps between

one’s hatred of bouncing balls

or his miscomprehension of a muse—

traveling flames set fire

to the stability of solitude’s sanctuary;

coast by coast

they’re split down the middle

of history rounded out by

earth and water

the beating blood of birth—

and for all that

it’s we, it’s we, it’s we and

“Your child, your decision”

that hangs a rope about them.

Time, Decisions, and Opportunity

William Murray, Lord Mansfield. Care of Wikimedia Commons.

Consider what you think justice requires, and decide accordingly.  But never give your reasons; for your judgment will probably be right, but your reasons will certainly be wrong. 
~Lord Mansfield

Opportunity is a bird that never perches. 
~Claude McDonald

The flower that you hold in your hands was born today and already it is as old as you are. 
~Antonio Porchia


Just thoughts

Photo by (and copywrite) Greg Laychak.

It is a long hall we walk,

Reflections of decisions

Hung in windows,

Rain-spattered and sun struck

The stains of time rolling down

Like tears, never wept

In the dawning

When other voices rang

Rhythm, rhyme, reduced

Where they set us yet to roam.

Everything is painted now—

Just thoughts.

To Whom it May Concern


Quite the rest for me

Put far from mine own hand

A tourist in a foreign land.


May invoke a wait;

Still, not quite the range

Or any real sense of change.


Quite the instance;

Do what you will

Any need fulfill.


Is quite random

But worry, worry

Leaves the future quite so blurry.

Decisions, decisions.