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?

One generation builds so that the next can enjoy life and the children of that generation from this lap of luxury can destroy.

This is the cycle.

Repeat or break?

I tell her bullshit does not baffle brains.

That tears 😢 don’t make lies come true.

I know these standards can be high…

On narrow roads with clear view.

Maybe I should just shut up.

And let her find her way.

Maybe this is how it is.

In a world that’s gone astray.

Tolkien’s Night

I forgive you!

Not because I am so spiritual or high and mighty; noooo!

And I forgive you not because I believe that you are more sick mentally than you are evil… and yes I do think that this is true.

I forgive you because I know that my forgiveness will bother you.

The Terror came in midweek and sat upon the shore.

In the space that lies between, the beauty and the roar.

The strangers came to take me to a land so far away.

Nor one of them said for sure the time, they’d return for me someday.

There’s a distance in the whispering, that can’t be heard by some.

It’s quiet and it’s haunting with the soft beat and a hum.

It’s all that I hold on to when the madness comes around.

And I’m swimming in the waters where parts of me have drowned.

There’s nothing to be taken that is not of life or light.

Worth any more than spit or gold; it’s courage for the fight.

Sometimes when I’m sleeping they are reaching out somehow.

There’s so much more that I don’t know… and all we have is now.

Society is bracing itself once again for the onslaught of business created by the  least celebrated occasion of the year… Fathers Day!

I am sitting in the shade and scattered light of a the garden outside my home that my neighbor ‘Ivan’ has annointed ‘The Garden of Evil’

I can appreciate this holiday if for no other reason it is at the very least a reminder that I had a father and that it wasn’t like I was told as a kid…

“You weren’t born… you were jerked on a stump and hatched in the sun.”

There is no calculation that I have seen That can determine the reactions of People who do not get their own way.

If you want to know who are dealing with… just say no to them. Say no without explanation for maximum Strange.