I decided not to follow, the path was to well worn.

The walkers were all burdened with a look of wrath and scorn.

Except for faraway daydreamers and yes there was a few.

As long as they didn’t smile to long at the not too happy crew.

It was difficult to leave them but I knew I could not stay.

There was no hugs or sad goodbyes, just ‘you best be on your way.’

I sometimes think about them or see one in my dreams.

And sometimes they all laugh at me and are busting at the seams.

It’s all joy now on the home front.

All the sadness has rained down.

The blue birds are all dancing.

Since Miss Drama has left town.

Now I’m not saying I don’t miss her.

Not saying that there’s no stress.

I am just thankful for the silence.

Enjoying the simple life, God bless!

Dennis Mantin

“All the wise men in the world, don’t know what it is like to be as ‘Thick as a Brick.” Sang Jethro Tull.

I do.

That plaque of being dumber than a door nail without the sense to shut up is reaping benefits nowadays however I wouldn’t recommend this as a model for successful living.

I knew you were lying and I didn’t give a fuck… What a rush!

One of my earliest childhood memories is from the back seat of a car peering into the blackness of the road being sliced by highbeams… Suddenly, out of nowhere, from the darkness of the country and the trees and forest was the lights of the city! Like a million diamonds shattering the empty.

The possibility of all those people! Surely some will be nice?

I had never before witnessed such a transformation; one second darkness, the next, millions of lights shattering that!

Anything was possible…

What a trip it has been.

There was no turning back!

Things are usually more complicated than a simple clichè.

Choosing an ideology wholeheartedly without proper investigation seems insincere at best.

I feel that way about atheists…

Such a thing to believe in nothing.

Seems empty to me.

I cannot wrap my thoughts around the existence of life without a God or Higher Power.

The light slices the darkness.

The blues are looking grey.

The gifts they keep on coming…

Here comes another day.

It’s raining in the valley.

Everything is getting wet.

Except her love for me, you see.

I tried but could not get.

It’s raining in the highlands.

I’m thinking in old song.

Even babies raised by wolves.

Know when they don’t belong.

The rains a distant memory.

Thinking about traveling to the coast.

I live sometimes just in my mind.

It’s the rain I miss the most.

We dined on tea and oranges.

On the sand down by the sea.

There were possible storm warnings.

That escaped both you and me.

The dingy left the harbor.

The sail snapped by noon.

The winds grew dark and heavy.

Under far too soon, typhoon.

They’ll be no more tea and oranges.

Or walks down at the park.

The dreamers dream is heavy now.

And faint hopes are growing dark.

When I was a kid in the 1960s, the farmers could be heard lamenting about a changing world that they feared.

Beautiful stone cobbled streets of small towns were replaced with “The Shopping Mall Generation!” AND cities grew. “Who would grow the food?” The farmers asked.

But did anyone see this coming down the pike? A generation so smart that they make money while they sleep?

A generation who became so important that not having children became for them, the best option. Which is probably the best thing since we can no longer determine genders…

I am not afraid. I am not in control. I am embarrassed… or am I entertained?