My Mother and her generation said it best.

“If you don’t have anything nice to say then don’t say anything at all.”

My generation say or maybe it’s just me…

If you don’t have anything nice to say then shut the fuck up!”

Bill reminded me again today about the damage of disparaging comments…

There’s a time to be self centered.

Happens when you’re a child.

There’s a time for your rebellion.

All is new and you are wild.

There’s a time to be a hero.

There’s a time to be a Dad.

And these times to be your father.

Are the best I’ve ever had.

The Distance overtook us.

Was a blessing mixed with time.

Those feelings all subsided

Except the lying/judgment/crime.

I don’t dwell unless I’m writing.

Even then the words just flow

I could search here for forgiveness.

Sad but true and I don’t know.

The stars were all but hidden, we could see the Harvest Moon.

The greyest clouds, a pale blue, the sun an orange balloon.

Was quiet in the meadow and no city screams to hear.

There is something sweet and silent in this changing of the gear.

There are wonders and they happen, right before our eyes.

Now I’m tired and I’ll go to sleep cause that would seem so wise.

Her voice has not gone silent.

With this distance I can’t hear.

She’s yammering somewhere to someone.

About something, let’s be clear.

A story about a victim.

A heroes journey with a cause.

And an abusively bad bastard.

Who can surf above the laws.

She can speak with such conviction.

And for for sure those will be tears.

Don’t feel bad, she’s fooled the experts.

A practiced art for tired ears.

Some people think I miss her.

I never learned to be that tall.

Truth be such admiration.

For such bold impudent gall.

Rumble in the alley bout something that should have been.

Not saying there was a witness but you really should come clean.

They love a rise from fall now, just keep it trimmed and lean.

They are handing out forgiveness to the parties that come clean.

Your Daddy was offended, not being made Parade Day Queen.

Your Mama has had enough now, she is about ready to come clean.

I’m disgusted and disguised now, I am Batman on Halloween.

I just sit in brooding silence, there’s zero chance I will come clean.

“What a great idea… Do you know what this place is missing? A box of shit in the living room! Let’s get a cat.”

The sentence was death by boredom. The virus spread the earth.

Madness rained down upon them. Like some monsters giving birth.

They handed out free money. The kind that makes you soft.

And nearly jumped out their skin. When someone smiled and coughed.

Then Dylan put out an album. With a song called Murder Most Foul.

That sounds as disgusted as I feel. Like the purging of a bowel.

I’ve learned to take the blessings and take them as they come.

He is at another level, a bit too much for some.

Kafka said, ‘That he felt ashamed when he realized the world was a costume party and he showed up with his real face.’

Shame? Really Kafka…

To have such insight I would have felt such glee to have finally figured it out!

Shame for being honest seems like such a villainous stance. Shame for not joining the herd?

Incredible observation Kafka 👏

Not buying your shame though.

The toast was not burnt I swear.

The cream was fresh and chilled.

The rosè was a vintage fine.

And no goblets were broke or spilled.

Somehow I just woke grumpy.

From my king size goose down bed.

I probably owe apologies.

For something or other I said.

Sometimes there’s no reason.

For my less than kind retorts.

It doesn’t mean that I don’t love or care.

It just means I’m out of sorts.