The Cheeseburger Perspective

“It’s music that makes people come together. It’s like this, if we see the world in cheeseburger perspective, if the world didn’t have any music it would be like a cheeseburger without the cheese. That’s what I think.”

These were the concluding sentences in a student’s essay about the power of music. To me it sounds like the end of a Mark Base blog post.

Spelled Spelled Spelt

Spelled spelled spelt,
May be spelled right.
But to me it looks unkempt.
Don’t mean to start,
A grammar fight,
But it’s got me all verklempt.

Does one say dreamed,
Or is it dreamt?
Depends on where you’re from.
The English prefer,
Their past tense teas.
But Americans like them none.

We’ve spilled.
They’ve spilt
We’ve barbecued.
They’ve grilled.
We’ve stood in line.
They’ve queued.

And spelt to me.
Is not a verb.
It is a type of wheat,
With high protein,
And often served,
As a tasty breakfast treat.

Slipping

Wind whipped,
Raw,
I saw you there,
Head tipped forward in despair,
Shoulders slumped,
The will to care slipping away,
And it hurt my heart,
But there was nothing to say,
So I held you.

Tedium

It certainly cannot be only me.  Granted, I do enjoy living in my bubble doing my thing, but I cannot be the only human being on this planet who finds certain people entirely tedious.

Maybe it’s middle age.  I have become very guarded about my time and how I invest it.  In the past, I had patience to deal with people.  Now, not so much.  Things should be simple, pleasant and even.  When things are not simple, pleasant and even, I find myself less willing to invest the time.  There is freedom to packing proverbial bags and moving on.

Anyone else feel this way?  I’m neither angry nor frustrated.  I’m just over it.

one day won’t do

i’ve got a womb
so it’s asssumed
i need a day
though i must say
one day won’t do
neither will two
what i really need
is a good deed
i need a fight
for equal rights
so keep your day
give us equal pay
and keep your cards
instead work hard
make them aware
just get out there
make it less grim
for international women

MASCULINITY

A tender virility,
That is masculinity,
Not soft without, hard within,
Nor soft with a hardened skin,
No, instead a careful blend,
Can stand tall, yet make amend,
Defend, but still listen near,
Lend a sympathetic ear,
Standing  fast when need be,
Protecting friend and family,
Not blindly, but with thought and care,
Loyalty that lingers there,
This is masculinity,
A tender virility.

Would Jesus hand out pamphlets?

Some advice would be so nice.
I could really do with some,
About what to do when the,

Jehovah’s Witnesses come.
They always come in pairs,
In order to outnumber you.

And catch you off your guard,
Big smiles for disarming you.
All politeness: “Excuse me, Ma’am.”

But have you heard the Message?
The Good News about God’s plan,
For you, nothing to fear.

It’s all written down, in
This convenient pamphlet here.”
Since they really are polite,

It seems wrong, a disgrace,
To tell them to piss off.
Shut the door in their faces.

Their eyes and smiles so wide,
Sorry, but your little faith is
Much too small for God to fit inside.

IT

Will it happen when I least expect it?
Leaving no time to dissect it,
Or reflect upon its meaning or its way?
Or will those around me seem to know,
Somehow see a shadow grow,
But never find just the right words to say?
Will I even be aware that suddenly it’s sitting there?
That where nothing was it slipped into the void?
Or will I be all overcome, wondering where it’s coming from,
Fumbling from relief to being slightly annoyed?