Last man standing

We became those,

the last standing remnant of yesterday,

dinosaurs of our existence,

caught between a song and today

for there was nothing else

we could fathom.

We were born this way

so the beauty of each song had to say,

voices without faces

it just was the way it was

and we accepted it that way,

For there was no depth,

no stress,

nothing that got caught up in the way,

and we could sleep at night knowing

we were young

unique,

the last man standing

like the birches in the meadows,

peeling from the outside in,

the scent deep on the air,

we were just that

simplistic like a memory,

got caught in the way.

I sit here today,

the jasmine heavy on the air

like thoughts on the mind,

and tomorrow is yet another day

and it will be what it will be,

and somewhere within,

beneath the cuticle that’s torn,

through each bit of ache

we know it will regain

its strength again.

I know not always the right things to say,

I only can feel what flows like a stream-

slipping past the silent trees that watch

like the nightman waiting for drama,

nothing wicked this way comes

except that which we invite with open doors,

and closed minds,

time drifts down as the night has descended

and a sad country song plays on the disc,

why not me?

and I wonder,

why not?

Beginning and endings….(thoughts on a day)

Should I laugh or cry…

One of “those” days spent I say as a feisty cat bites my ankles,

Chalking one more up to a WTF moment of life,

Bike sold=two kayaks not depleting funds but yet…

Six tea bags, Luziane brewing yet another perfect pot,

Cooled nicely on stove, I pour into receptacle and boom, 

Into fridge for further pouring use…

Sigh….

Dog sitting by fridge freaking out as tea sprays from…everywhere….

One gallon of tea and what remains….

The rest fills every crevice in the two month old new white fridge…..sigh….

Hot day out, hubby in the pool comes in to help on swamping the floor duty,

Ready to cry…but watch a gonna do?

Cleaning every bottle and veggie in the fridge now sitting in tea….

Cat dislodged from room soon to be floored in pretty Pergo,

Decides this is the new place,

The middle of the fray, clean table now gritty….did I tell you I had just washed this…

And the window…

now I think it’s time for a beer,

Had enough, just one of those days

But tomorrow is another new fresh moment…

Don’t even ask me about the two lizards having sex on my sidewalk…

Usually they move, almost crushed them….oops…don’t mean to break up the party….night settles, dogs went swimming and I sit below a fan telling you of my day…hoping that your’s went better…do I need to tell you how hard it is to clean up 13 cups of tea from a new fridge? At least it wasn’t sweet tea…plain ma’am…not loaded….see, some good news. PS Sheldon….thanks for the new perspective…..much needed. Sigh…tea anyone? Another chore for tomorrow’s list…again….

What I’m listening to…reliving moments from high school: you tube it and enjoy…now onto a little Steve Winwood…higher love anyone? Yes she says happily…night folks,

Peace and blessings and no crying over spilt tea…..K💜

Baker StreetBy Gerry Rafferty

Winding your way down on Baker Street

Lite in your head, and dead on your feet

Well another crazy day, you drink the night away

And forget about everything

This city desert makes you feel so cold

Its got so many people but its got no soul

And it’s taken you so long to find out you were wrong

When you thought it held everything.

You used to think that it was so easy

You used to say that it was so easy

But you’re tryin, you’re tryin now

Another year and then you’d be happy

Just one more year and then you’d be happy

But you’re cryin’, you’re cryin’ now

Way down the street there’s a light in his place

You open the door, he’s got that look on his face

And he asks you where you’ve been, you tell him who you’ve seen

And you talk about anything

He’s got this dream about buyin’ some land

He’s gonna give up the booze and the one night stands

And then he’ll settle down, it’s a quiet little town

And forget about everything

But you know he’ll always keep moving

You know he’s never gonna stop moving

‘Cause he’s rollin

He’s the rolling stone

And when you wake up it’s a new morning

The sun is shining, it’s a new morning

And you’re going, you’re going home

On the fringe

I see the words

I taste them like a foreign rememberance from youth,

Like the bittersweet chips

That stretched surprisingly so far in comparison

To a melting chocolate bar.

They wallow around within the empty space of my mind

Running like wild horses without borders,

No boundaries exist to reign in

To gather close and capture

That which I search for.

I can see it in here

Behind eyes in the dark corners of this room

Listening to the machines move

Spitting oil on spinning tools

And it steals it,

That thought that got away from me,

And it toys with me,

Waving like a roadside blowup doll made of wind and air,

Taunting or mocking or just saying

Stop in and have a look see

And grabbing the attention away

From tasks at hand that I may have forgotten

On purpose or not

And this time is mine

And you can see where the time begins and ends

But here is an open space just at the edge

Blank and waiting

For the final escape

Unnoticed.

Slide off the edge and run

Keep moving and not looking back

Lest we see them coming to drag it kicking and screaming

Making it conform to the paper cut out doll

That fell off the wall

And slid away

Below a dust covered dresser

Amongst the dust bunnies and dog hair,

Fading over time

Unrecognizable or remembered when found,

Where did it come from

And what the heck is it?

So we toss it away

This little slip of nothing that no one wants

Till someone comes to claim it

And we then ponder

What did we do with that old thing?