Has your band begun to rust? On February 23, 2010 by bodhitsattva. She has more to accomplish. A cat on a ledge. Spent on the rug,. Although she must be neat. Why is it that I,.

You walk with the sun and it lights up your ears. I wish you had stopped me from shaving your mullet. I sheared away summer and the slugs came for their share. I know that they congregate still, in the cold yard. To nibble on your fallen curls. I imagine hiding in your warm conch, where the sun shone for all of August. And where it will find me to play orange inside my eyes when I am finished. Hibernating for your hair to regrow.

Putting a bit of tech into teach! June 12, 2014.

My life, pressed down, shaken together to make room for more, running over, and poured into your lap. I dance when I see you. Old phantoms in the windows. New flowers on the kitchen table. I love you more than apple pie and. I dance when I see you. You wear new shoes old and people watch.

Prose, poetry, fiction, and rambles from people with a bit too much time on their hands.

Wit, humour, verse and rhyme, covering news and events of our time. Are you feeling sad inside. You cannot see the light? Sometimes you feel so out of reach,. Like a needle in a stack,. One grain of sand upon the beach,. A pebble in a crack. Open up your tired eyes,. You have your silver lining. Serendipity will pick you up,. Like a penny off the ground.

Art may be nothing more than the invention of cadence, a reasoning of chaos. It will use anything, just anything, to loop itself around us, and around us again, and around us once more till it finds its way in. Everything has changed, except this sound the soil beneath my feet. I could close my eyes and still know I was back in the desert. Alone or with friends, m.