I hit the spot.
I marked it with a dot.
It's my spot—
An 'X' ringed.
A bullseye claimed,
filled with jet black ink—
Not a blot with rough edges that seep out,
but one with a sharp outer perimeter.
It's a point pretending it has a yard of space around it,
on its own plot of land, casting no shadows.
I shift a bit; neighbors start crowding in.
"Stop Right There!"
"It's my spot you're on!"
I feel the canvas moving under my spot,
or is it all the jostling moving me — page, plot and all?
Now I'm bouncing in a crowded jumping castle.
Dots blurring into one another.
Stippled footprints mark where spots once stood;
touching down elsewhere — here, there, otherwise.
I've lost the plot; I've lost my spot.
Just another orphaned dot,
set adrift, looking for a margin to belong in.
on a slate, forever being wiped clean.
I clamp down and dig in my heels.
Crampons bite into the ice floe.
Punctuation halts the slide,
puts its foot down—
my comma sheds its tail, and holds.
Smack in the middle
Of the road was a hawk.
Once the brakes were applied,
We just sat there to gawk.
It was standing astride
A dead squirrel, a meal
Which I guess to a hawk
Has a certain appeal.
Perhaps what it planned
Was to dig in and start,
But a bird of prey’s certainly
Cunning and smart.
So on seeing our car,
Talons did what they must
And that hawk flew away,
Leaving us in the dust.
We drove on to the store
To stock up on some food,
Glad that roadkill was not
On our list to include.
The push and the pull
can be so graceful
and then again, it can be rough
where we dig in and get tough
back and forth
we balance work life
and input
who is getting heard now
who is getting pampered
who leads
who follows
and then it switches
at the drop of a hat
Never know
what is up for the day
so many hills to conquer
and things that get in the way
motor on
expend energy till it's gone
and recharge
and let the other take charge
handing the candle back and forth
the safety and sharing develops
the caring intensifies
the daring becomes bolder
topics shift
as we go within
hopes and dreams
past and future
now and how
in and out
it's quite the parade
deep focus not a charade
real caring
heart on sleeve wearing
taking note of each other's state
not staying up too late
Never know
what is up for the day
so many hills to conquer
and things that get in the way
motor on
expend energy till it's gone
and recharge
and let the other take charge
and life motors on
just like this song
over and over
but I sense happiness too
deep release
peace
till we wrestle next with a thought plan or objective
then it's on
Some weeks are odd, with days off
of a normal routine
but.......the first day of the work week is
always a bit intimidating
What if we focused on the possibility of Mondays
Making the best of the situations you are thrown into
Ordinary is boring attitude prevails
Not thinking the worst and making it the BEST
Dig in deep, think things through and make a plan
Always find the silver lining
Yahoo, making it through, despite the situation
A person in the public eye,
When subject of a joke,
Has every right to mope or cry
About the one who spoke.
Yet we’re still a democracy,
Though maybe not much longer,
And things we thought we’d never see
Are here and getting stronger.
The freedom that we have to speak
And criticize or sneer at
Applies to even those so weak
Their enemies they JEER AT!
The ALL-CAPS ranting’s not enough –
The claws must dig in deeper
To prove to all that he’s so tough
Revenge will cut much steeper.
And so the toadies and the Court
Will seek some retribution
As ABC might cut things short
In hopes of absolution.
It’s bad enough when words are hurled
From One-I Will-Not-Mention
But now, with wifely wrath unfurled,
There’s double the attention.
The vibrant hum of passion spews from our lips, as our tongues tango
in the fleshy dance floor
of you’re gullet
The cool breeze freezes the salt to our skin
we speak louder to cover the crash of waves
and the squawk, of sea birds
My arm tangles around you’re waist,
and my fingers dig in to you’re precious skin
Hiccups of love
muddle my words
I lose my voice
in the new found abyss
of you’re eyes
The silence
smooth
sticky
warm
passion
Knives and forks being sharpened for the big event
Thanksgiving feast that is too come
Turkey’s everywhere on alert wanting to avoid the Ax
Their thought of escape from the oven to being stuffed
Always the main course
Turkey’s defeat
Planning on their retreat
Turkeys are leaving town
Planning places where they can’t be found
While others are being plucked
Victims of no surrender
Turkey score
It will be a soar
Households all united in their quest of the turkey serve
Knives and forks getting set to dig in
Turkeys are venturing to places to be free
The solution being flee
Turkeys want peace, rest and comfort
The Turkeys blame of the Pilgrim’s in what they started
They couldn’t leave wellness alone
Turkeys became full blown
Pilgrim’s, look what you done
“Turkey pig out”
It looked poetry
Was sculpted in his head
It was his only muse
And I liked that
I wanted to dig in there.
Thanksgiving Day being the same old routine
As a Turkey, it makes them mean
Fork and Knife
Turkey Find
Butterball type
Turkey ax
Dig in feast eat
Year after year same drill
The Turkey being the one to fulfill
Woo’s me no more
As Turkey Freddie says, he’s hitting the road
Greyhound bus bound
Inspirated and encouraged sound
Traveling away from Thanksgiving Day scene
No cutting on me
New horizons being the enterprising frontier
Vacation laid back
Sunny Florida
Embracing the Florida sun
Nothing but sheer fun
Soaking up the beach, and no thought of Thanksgiving among
Peace and tranquility
Refreshing reality
Other Turkeys can Gooble Gooble if they want to
Calm relaxing thoughts
Having no dive of the folk and knife
Making sure I stay lean
Let the folks at dinner tables be mean
Turkey Freddie will be working on his tan
Thanksgiving folks are not his fan
While cut shall be done on Turkey Freddie
Oven away
Busy on a getaway
Turkey Freddie eat won’t be seek.
Caverns of patterns,
Awaiting your return,
A cliff at every turn,
For you to fall and burn,
Slipping into your pattern.
It repeats until you discern,
There's a reason for concern,
Earning a new lesson,
Life is in constant progression.
Filling the cavern again,
With every little win,
Catching the pattern in motion,
Slowly filling through devotion,
Allowing a new path to open.
One that you have chosen,
A choice in the decision,
Thinking with precision,
Creating an incision,
Letting new patterns dig in.
Living consciously,
I see them repeatedly,
Caverns of patterns within me,
Created when I couldn't see,
Keeping me from being happy.
And I'm guarded,
like I'm wounded,
my first instincts,
are to find a hole,
dig in, seek ascendance
I wanna lighten my dark,
I wanna swallow the sun,
I wanna feel single; one of one—
I wanna spark transcendence
To feel the pulse of life in every sad heartbeat
So I fire the dreams where passion finds defeat
Flame fueled, flowing forever forgoing deplete
Phoenix rise singular; not to be repetition, like a parakeet
I amm incensed apalled; outraged as an intended blanket Un-law approaches its final stage.' where is the backbone?
Oh Victoria fair.' Is it truly lacking? What are you allowing?
Down there.' You seem only to loose.' And give away.? Yet
You have come to the point.' As to whats the point? All must say? Your lives are next.' And the very soul of a (once
Famous state) now WAKE UP BE BOLD!! treat this as you
Did ' the voice' just stand together its a simple choice.'
Stand for your elders who in con-vid died for your chidrden
Harmed.' Search for some hestro-pride.' Support the warriors there are many still 'dig in diggers' and hold your
Hill.! Speak the truth and honour all your brave fallen.!
Show the country and the world. That you are all; going
All in!
Not by covering clothes you warm your body
Just by looking the eyes you see you're cold
Fresh from the morning sun it feels like sunny
While the beamoning eyes wonders see you like gold.
There are things that false the weary eyes
Interpreting things as true in your own discussion
The long distant line you wish the horizon lies
Sometimes not acceptable in the age of public opinion.
Season may equites that the ground is full of snow
Never realizing that it's all land underneath
As you dig in its just a superficial force of show
The sky is using season to subdue and cover the earth.
How the world change abruptly, human life fast change evolution
From old wearing g-string to the modern wearing t-back string, my gee
From primitive invention to science and technology innovation
The fashion world is showing human life the age of innovative morality.
Christmas 1947
It was a time of deep poverty
with flour, milk, and margarine
my mother made porridge
put the pan on the table
said to her three children
dig in it is all we have
went to bed and bitterly cried
A child doesn't know it is poor
we ate the porridge and fought
about who was to scrape
the caramelized bottom of the pan
We, children with belly full
went to sleep, my sister on the
sofa, my brother and I on the floor
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