Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
When I say I’m alright
I might just be okay
But there could be such a heavy load
That it takes too much to say
You can look for clues in my face
These things usually leave a trace
But what’s going on in my inner space
Is really not in play
I need time to process
To evolve an understanding
Of where I’m at and who I am
After this last round of changes
So when I say I’m alright
I might just be okay
Then okay, I could be miserable
I just don’t want to say
Watch the spiral
Sigh and mourn
Think about all that’s happened
Since the day you were born
Remember the places
Where you visited and stayed
The people you played with
The ones who led the way
And the music that you knew
How you sang and played along
Never quite realizing
That time would soon be gone
You lived like it was forever
Sometimes you still do
Thinking about the past and future
Wondering about what is true
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
Michael Seidel, writer 