Whistling

Whistling…you either can or you can’t. There’s no middle ground. * * * I was about 10 years old when I first heard the question, “Son, what do you want to do when you grow up?” I knew without even thinking…. all I ever really wanted was to be able to whistle. It’s a tough …

too much talking

maybe it’s the age or the stage i’m in but it seems strange with so many words our messages remain muddled.   much said, volumes read, little solved. consensus cowers, dangles like limp laundry suspended on a back-yard clothesline.   constant chatter signifying nothing. everything, talked to death.   even Lazarus opts out, been here, …

Stranger by the Day

As if times weren’t already strange, they keep getting stranger. We’ve been living cooped up like caged animals, needing relief, finding little. We’ve hidden behind masks for so long that it’s become de rigueur, the fashion of the times. Not that wearing masks is a new phenomenon, just one for another reason.  We’ve sought escape …

Waitin’ Around

Have you ever wondered how much time is squandered just waiting around, for something, anything or nothing at all? Shocking! ********** What better way to pass a rainy Sunday afternoon than making up limericks?  Beats crossword puzzles. Here are a few from a brain of nonsense.   I’m waiting to see what’s about to go …

So Much Foam

Writers are a bit strange and different from normal people. You have to be a little weird to sit for hours in solitude, pecking at a keyboard and stringing words together on the white screen in front of you, hoping to make some sense of whatever it is you’re putting there. And nerve to disseminate …