Waiting for my SIM

A new phone I’ve got,
Which cost quite a lot,
For no doubt it was not,
Bought on sale.
The chances are slim.
The prospects are grim,
For my SIM being in,
Today’s mail.
Should I call to say,
Is my SIM on its way?
Can you send it today,
Without fail?
They’ll hear my plea,
Maybe feel sympathy,
But alas, it will be,
No avail.
And I’m feeling glum,
For again nothing’s come,
And my SIM travels on,
Speed of snail.

Necromancer Needed!

New beginning,
Or farewell tour?
Truth is, we’re not really sure.
Seems neither of us can decide,
If we’re here for good,
Or for the ride,
And since we have no necromancer,
It’s a question only we can answer.

Cynics & Sceptics

The cynic blinks
Says this world stinks
Thinks we’re better off without it,
The sceptic simply winks and says
“I doubt it”.

Here are some interesting facts about the number 37…

…in honor of it being my 37th birthday. 🙂

“It is a prime number, the fifth lucky prime, the first irregular prime, the third unique prime and the third cuban prime of the form.”

Now, I know what a prime number is but I have no idea what the rest of that stuff is. I’m especially curious about the “cuban prime” and find myself wondering if it’s Numero Uno de Cuba, Fidel Castro?

Probably not.

“It’s the normal human body temperature in degrees Celsius.”

Very useful information, indeed.

“New General Catalog (NGC 37) is a lenticular galaxy located in the Phoenix constellation. It is approximately 42 kiloparsecs (137,000 light-years) in diameter and about 12.9 billion years old.

Here’s a picture of it:

Here’s a closeup of something really far away

37 is also:

“The number of plays William Shakespeare is thought to have written (counting Henry IV as three parts).”

“The [former] international dialing code of the German Democratic Republic (aka East Germany)”

“Kevin Smith’s Clerks’ Dante Hicks’ girlfriend Veronica’s number of former boyfriends with whom she performed fellatio.”

(Thanks, Wikipedia)

FLYSTRIP

f
l
y
s
t
r
i
p

sticky strip
long and yellow
no slip
fly catching
death grip
they land there
unaware
last stop
to nowhere
but watch out
for your hair
in the
f
l
y
s
t
r
i
p

Negative Memories

Stuffed in envelopes
and shoved in boxes.
Buried in a cemetery
of negative memories.
Imprints exhumed
of forgotten flashes
and long lost positives.
From the negatives
emerge resurrected images.
Like headstone rubbings
reminders of something
that once lived
but is now dead.

Still the Same

In one week now,
Or slightly less,
I will be thirty-seven.
Although I feel,
The same as when,
I was only eleven.
I’m still that child,
Withdrawn and shy,
And awkward and unsure.
Still wondering,
Am I good enough?
I’m just as insecure.
I thought by now,
I’d be more cool.
More bold, more confident.
But alas, I’m not.
I’m still the same.
But I’m okay with it.