Night Drive

A joy drive
Step in take a dive
Into darkness and things out there
leave that, for now, no you don't care
Below shaded sky and crooked moon
Baby, you'll be lucky if you're back by noon

The strong tall trees lay by this once curve
Distracted by night, tried to swerve
Over the embankment and into the lake
It's cold was bold for goodness sake
Sorry, it was the last of many night drives
Into our lungs the icy water took our lives

I Like Words

I like words. I like words that are fun to say, fun to write, fun to type, or even fun to hear. Actually, I like more then just words. I like phrases as well. I keep a few stocked up in my mental reserves so that I can whip them out at a moments notice.

Banana fudge cake Sunday is one such phrase. When I am at a loss for words I like to just throw it out there. It catches people off guard so well that it re-sparks conversation all by itself.

Good morning is another good phrase to say at any time of the day. The looks and reactions you get by saying good morning at three in the afternoon are just priceless.

Where were we is probably one of my absolute favorites. The way it sounds, how easily it flows off the tongue or fingertips. The words are so similar that it is just so much fun.

Cornflakes

I gave the lazy-susan one more spin, but came up with the same results again. Cornflakes. “Cornflakes and beer,” I say to the fridge as I pull it open for a cold one. “Breakfast of champions, once again.”

After pouring myself a bowl I flopped down behind my desk. I put my feet up and ate. It doesn’t taste the best but it’ll do in a pinch, and in a pinch was where I was. Between a rock and the proverbial hard place. It had been at least a month since my last job and funds were getting slim again.

A shadow moved across my office’s smoked glass door followed by a soft rapping. “Come in,” I said looking up from my bowl.

My spoon never made it back to my mouth, but my jaw decided to meet it half way.
She was stunning, absolutely stunning. An image that any G.I. would kill for to grace the side of his aircraft.

“I don’t know if I’m in the right place…” she started.

Flashing Computer Curser

Silence,
Nothingness,
FLASH
Whiteness stairing me in the face
Waiting to be filled
Wanting to be filled
Needed to be filled
FLASH
The emptiness is so bleak
The void needs to be filled
Filled….
But with what
FLASH
Text, words, letters, shapes,
Thin black lines would break up the void
Creating something…
Something interesting to look at
FLASH
Something other then the blank screen
FLASH
Other then the…
FLASH
Unforgiving…
FLASH
Blinking curser
FLASH

Father's Day

Cake nowhere to be found
That's not really it at all
The calendar says this is so, though
Odd posture, weird coaster, hard hand-shake?
Dogs yet asleep, seein' sheep
So be said, cotton's warm

We're doin' the best we can
Along the way, the manual,.
Well, that's not really needed
We're grown strong men
How 'bout that weather?
 So... it's been awhile?
Lawyerspeak, where's my file?

Bake Shop Baby

‘X’ Marks the spot
Right on the dot
Arms grasping not to let go
And only you know
The sound of sharpening knives
And the slicing deftly and so swiftly

Smells of sweat and toil
And clattering of pans and bunches of foil
Vagrants through the window and on the sidewalks
Chatter loudly and loosely with engines of cars passing by

Of melted butter and margarine
Your silken skin
Cold to the touch

With rhythmic breathing
A carefully knitted tank-top
Meets smooth conditioned hair
With coarse blue jeans you have flair
From out there, smell of whisky wafting in
And blending with the yeast...
Too busy, you couldn’t care the least

A single tossle of your hair
Sets the timer ringer buzzing
Back to work
With slams of clattering doors
And textures of dough and fleeting flours
Falling to unsightly, chaotic floors
Awhile ago, a different job, a different time

Like dough to bread
You moved on
Wandered, then vastly fled

Outside, a vagrant collapsed
Sounds of glass breaking
And smells of expelled acids
Oh well, your hair glitters in the light
Like smiling stars in the night
Customers come and go
With shouts, chatters and laughs

Sometimes the bread doesn't turn out just right
So the door shuts with – -‘Bah-Ding’
It can be quite a shuttering ring

A day in the life of a rising bakery
Budding and blossoming
Most prominent: French and Rye
So, prep for the next day
Vagrants left
And all is put away
It’s time to go
A look outside
test reside
The gleam of fast cars whizzing by...
Cross your heart, hope not to die

Spotted Cow

How now brown cow
You are so proud
With your milk chocolate coat
Shoulders back
Head up high
But yet
Something is holding you back
There is a deep dark secret
You hate your thick brown coat
There is to much pressure
For one of your breed
Life would be so much simpler
If you could just frolic all day
Just like those spotted cows

You know what word I can't stand? Blog.

You know what word I can't stand? Blog. I can't stand it, espically its use in current media. It's just a flash buzz word that someone made up and thought was cute, now everyone uses it. Your not hip and cool, espically in the news media, if you don't have a blog. Who really cares what you have to say anyway...

I also hate the name of that one minivan the Caravan. It's a car... No its a van... Its a CARAVAN!!! Shut the hell up. It's not cute and or funny...

Next question is: Why does an online journal make you rant? That is a question that I will have to think about long and hard and maybe come up with an answer some day...

Well, untill next time, this is your local bloger signing off.