Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Paul Vinent Cannon wrote a short poem, “Choices”. I find it perfect for these times and the TACO Regime. I attempted to reblog it but WordPress’s magic fizzled. So I have a link but also lifted the poem and posted it here.
An American Cinquain (2-4-6-8-2)
Choices
Silence
sometimes bidden
sometimes so moralised
well sometimes I just cannot be
silent.
Copyright 2025 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon
All Rights Reserved ®️
Hope you’ll visit his blog and enjoy more of his poems and observations. Cheers
Call up all your relatives,
Friends and enemies, too,
Joni Ernst says we’re dying
And there’s nothing we can do.
Fire off the nukes and rifles,
Set off the poison gas,
Joni says we’re dying,
So come on, get off your ass.
Eat what you want,
Drink as you feel,
Forget about taking all those vaccines,
Medicines,
And pills.
Don’t worry about crime and punishment,
What are they going to do?
Joni Ernst says we’re dying.
You know it must be true.
So stop saving for the future,
Or growing all those crops.
Stop making those payments
To banks and other slobs.
Don’t worry about paying taxes,
Nor going to work a job,
Joni Ernst says we’re dying,
Looks like it’s over and done.
Some Light
Tell me all your secrets
I’ll share a few of mine
We can talk and have coffee
Or maybe a glass of wine
You can tell me about your first love
And what you do for fun
About your first kiss, about your last love
And how that came undone
We can walk together under stars
Mention all the past
Or remember funny movies
And laugh until we cry
We can shake hands before we go
Or maybe kiss good night
I’m not looking for that much
I’m just searching for some light
~ m.w.seidel
The lazy river waters silently glide by
Bird wings catch light and flash as they fly by
Time drifts slowly as the day goes by
Thoughts and plans meander as ideas come by
New memories and hopes form as life passes by
Other times and places are recalled with a soft good bye
April 12 of 2025 begins with a sense of rain. Clouds loaded with grays and blues swell over the western pines and ridges. It’s 42 F. Rain serenaded us through the night. We’re dry for the moment but the wind carries a wintry stick, and humidity puts a clingy wrap on us. The high for today will be 58 F. This is Saturda.
As I loll in bed and think about dreams, I consider nesting a little longer. It is Saturda. I was busy yesterday.
Fresh reminders bolt in from the awakening neurons. It’s Saturda. Green Bag Day!
Checking the time, I relax. There’s plenty o’ time before the scheduled pickup of the bi-monthly emergency food bank donation. But I’m awake and energetic thanks to the momentary panic whipped up when I remembered that the green bag must go on. I get it done, just because.
Papi is again at a loss. The ginger cat was adjusting to warm and sunny naps among the bushes. Now, this stuff again, this wind, this rain. The cat comes to the door and gives me a look to come back in. “I know,” I tell him. “You don’t want to come in. You want to follow your nature and remain outside. But you don’t like the wind.” A wintry glance passes from the cat to me as he drifts past. Once inside, he breaks into a quick trot into the dining room. A grooming sit commences. This is what I had in mind all along, he projects in that way that cats do.
The cat is right, though. We were being groomed for nicer weather. Whatever plans involving involve the outside that arise today, I’ll need gear to block that wind. With that thought crossing the finish line, The Neurons begin chanting, “Block that wind, block that wind.” The Neurons can be an irritating group.
Clive’s Tuesday Tunes 246 was about music about dreams and dreaming. He offered a solid Dream Five. After listening to them and remembering, I woke up this morning with Heart singing “These Dreams” in the morning mental music stream. According to the wiki thingy, Martin Page and Bernie Taupin wrote this song. Stevie Nicks passed on it, but Heart went with it. Released in 1986, the song is about living another life while sleeping at night.
Today’s video offering features a different take on the song. Alison Kraus is on lead vocals with Heart’s Wilson sisters offering backing vocals.
Coffee is wending its way past my lips and down my throat, past the epiglottis and down the esophagus to finish its journey into my stomach. Papi has gone back out to see if the weather is any better yet. With coffee’s encouragement, I’ll hit the news. Hope your day is full of things which make you sing, dance, and be happy. If not those, may nothing kill, injure, or sicken you. I know; it feels like I’m hoping for a lot in these times. But we gotta keep hoping.
Cheers
Winter blahness continues its hold here in Ashlandia. Yeah, it’s a low key sprinter day. Cold rain pelts the world. I know it’s cold because I stepped out to call in Papi, aka Butter Butt. Butter Butt refuses to accept that it’s bad weather outside. He heads out there as if there is nothing wrong, and then darts for cover and huddles. Fifteen minutes later, I check on him and he sprints in. After three episodes like this, he finally announces, “I’ve decided to stay inside today,” and curls up like he’s ready to read a good book.
Papi never looks up and see the ominous layers of clouds. He only knows that the wind is blowing, there is no warming bit of sunshine to be found, and rain is splattering beyond the porch. Those clouds tell me it’s going to be a cold, wet one, and we’re not discussing beer. Temperature is holding at 37 F but never fear, it’s gonna crowd the low to mid forties before beginning its late afternoon descent back into the mid 30s.
This is Sunda, March 16, 2025.
Locally, we’re cheering on the Southern Oregon University women’s basketball team. Undefeated, they’re progressing through the NAIA championship seedings. We’re hopeful that they’ll take a national championship. I hope I haven’t jinxed that by putting it in eprint. The fates often get irritated with me and end whatever makes me happy. Maybe it just seems like it.
Today’s song is in honor of MAGA America. News of tariffs being levied on the U.S. in retaliation for tariffs PINO Trusk put on others, along with stock market drops and growing unemployment has The Neurons playing “Love Hurts” in the morning mental music stream. Although covered by Cher, Jim Capaldi, the Everyly Brothers, Emmylou Harris, and Roy Orbison, the song in my head today comes from a group called Nazareth. Nazareth is a Scottish hard rock band. I knew their work and songs like “Hair of the Dog” and “Broken Down Angel”. When they released “Love Hurts”, I was taken back. Yet, it works. Well, for some.
Anyway, “Love Hurts” was put into place because every time complaints about being fired from a job, falling stock prices, cut benefits, or dissatisfaction in general emerges from MAGA land, PINO Trusk quickly reassures them that yes, there will be some pain, but they’ll be great in the end, so great, you won’t believe it.
Coffee is consoling me again. Hope your day goes well and features some pleasant weather. Here we go, one more time, eye on the clock. Cheers
Sunshine richly soaks Ashlandia’s end of the valley where I5 climbs into the mountain pass between Oregon and California. But this Twosda finds it a chill morning. 42 F, the sun is pulling us out of the mid-thirties trough where we spent the night. Like yesterday, our high will eye the 60s; I saw us at 64 yesterday at my place.
This is Twosda, March 11, 2025. Although spring is closing on us, a winter warning has been issued for tomorrow. That’s wholly in keeping with expectations. Before reading of that warning yesterday, I applauded the spring but then reminded myself that winter likes to make one last, dramatic March appearance in our area.
The Neurons are treating me with “Only You Know and I Know” in the morning mental music stream. Dave Mason penned the song, but Delaney & Bonnie had more of a hit with it in the U.S. I had the Dave Mason original in mind this morning. Comes solely out of thinking about PINO Trusk and his sneering as he ‘makes dramatic announcements’. That’s how the mainstream media often portrays him. ‘Trump Makes Dramatic Announcement About New Tariffs on Canada’. I’ve seen the first iteration and the rest of this song and dance is tiresome. But you and I know how much of his grandstanding is done to keep his base’s attention; he loves it when they thrill over his words, swoon over his actions, orgasm and gasp over his power and prophecies. Never mind that many of his words are lies, his actions are bullshit, and his power is right out of the dictator handbook.
But you and I know. Those of us with some smattering of understanding about history and politics know. Smattering to me is that you learned about these things in junior high or high school, but also that you understood and remember it. PINO Trusk’s base often does not.
Anyway, I enjoy this video of Dave Mason and his group performing a rockin’ rendition of the song. Hope you do as well.
Coffee is purring away in my innards, restoring some of my faith in my existence. Hope you have a royally awesome day. Here we go. Cheers
Floofbun (floofinition) – Prosifloofic poetry and prose that is about animals or relationships with animals. Origins: Japan, 17th century.
In Use: “One of the earliest recorded floofbuns is ‘The Trail of Shedding Fur’, written in 1784 by an unknown author about their floofs, while a more recent celebrated floofbun is ‘Floof Traveler Floofbun: 1999’ by Ima Katt.”
Michael Seidel, writer 