Notes to you. < some may get it, some may not. I don't really care either way > There are things called articles. Like "a", "the". Use them. There are things called collective nouns. They don't have plurals. "Computer code", "apparel", "hardware", "software". Commas are useful things, if used properly, like in this…
Now is the season for death. A death that will bring life once again, but for that life we must die now. This is the season for love. A love that will take you further apart, but for that love, this love must die. The present is doomed. The past misunderstood. The future?…
TBT apparently there is such a thing. "Throw Back Thursday". Well I'm throwing this out there again in the hope that someone will understand it.
It was a hectic day at home, I was going about my work when all at once my dome went abuzz with the need to shirk and compose what I call a pome. And here, it, the pome, is, if this were a song this would be a bridge. The parking lot was…
So - I need help. Yeah, Yeah - I know! It seems the nose job 18 months ago didn't quite take. And as things stand I may have to go under the knife again. That was depressing - so I took me aside and wrote down this song. I just can't finish it…
Mistress in white and blue,my posts don’t excite you,my status provokes no comment.You give me the news and the homilyand updates from the family. I have you on the laptop,I have you on the tablet,I have you on the phone,I have you in the office,I have you in the house,I have you in…
Books have given me hours of enjoyment over the years. On a recent visit to Barnes and Noble with a colleague, who was on a quest for his afternoon latte fix, we paused to review a table piled high with gloriously bound old favourites. Jules Verne, Lewis Carroll and Mark Twain were represented…
When I think about you When I dream about you I feel my heart go still I feel I’ve had my fill If I think about you If I dream about you I’m wasting my time Just blowing my mind So let’s just call it quits Let’s just say goodbye You’ll find happiness…
Looks like poetry is playing second fiddle to personal reflections. Interesting that. Readership has increased, comments mostly restricted to a closed group on Facebook. And those comments, coming, as they do, from college friends and acquaintances, tend to be not very gushy, which is an understated way of saying they make sure I…
The boy on the beach in Goa Cried please bring me some more Beer if you please At twenty five rupees Here's my mug, please pour! or Further delay I will abhor! or Alcohol has not yet reached every pore! or Write your own line, you bore!