Tuesday, February 26, 2008

A Post For Two

I owe two people a response.  Mike from rambling stuff tagged me to produce a list of seven odd things about me.  My wife, over at the Corner of Insanity and Chaos posted a poem that I have the match to, so I will be posting that today.


By the way, I started a new blog, The Natural Inquirer.  It is a science blog.  If you think of anything you want a thorough scientific or logical investigation of, just let me know, it will be my pleasure to give it a treatment.


Ok, I was tagged to present you with seven weird or odd things about me.  The challenge will be limiting it to seven. :)



  1. Probably the thing that shocks people the most, when they find out, is that I have been married four times.  My first divorce is the result of just not knowing what I was doing.  Poor communication coupled with egocentrism left us frustrated and after five years she wanted to leave.  Wife two and wife three had affairs while I was on military deployments and eventually left me for other men.  Wife four is stuck to me like a booger.  No matter how difficult I am, she shows no signs of wanting to leave me.

  2. When I played, I could play the clarinet exceedingly well.  But I could not read music to save my life.

  3. I am now a stay at home dad.  Take it from the perspective of a 20 year disabled veteran, raising kids is a real challenge.  A very satisfying and rewarding challenge.  Stay at home parents deserve a lot of respect.

  4. I've had a great opportunity to 'get around', mostly due to military necessity.  I might forget a few, but I have been to many states in the United States, Canada, Mexico, Wales, England, Denmark, Belgium, Luxembourg, France, Spain, Germany, Sardinia, Kuwait, Turkey and Israel.

  5. My wife is a whopping 16 years younger than me.  Fortunately, I am so immature that you can barely tell.

  6. I had an opportunity to home school my two oldest kids using the most awesome program ever, called Connections Academy.  If you have kids, check them out.

  7. I have four biological children and four step children and two step grand children.  And, I dated one of my step daughters...before I met her mom.


Ok, enough weirdness.  Now for some prose that goes with a poem that my wife recently submitted.  Her poem is Song of Love. My matching prose is called Pink and Orange Carnations.


Written 21 July 2003,


Pink and Orange Carnations










.
   Pink and orange carnations, arranged in a bouquet.  Thoughtlessly delivered to a door without a name, they were nearly discarded.  Where did they come from and what do they mean?  There was, at least, a stanza from a poem on the card.

   Watching the sun rise
  Bathed in golden hues of
   Pinks, and orange,
  Colors you gave me.


   There have been many dark and lonely nights.  Nights filled with tears and remorse.  Nights filled with longing and dreams, for a better day filled with love and happiness.  Night after night, the darkness weighs down, crushing spirits and dimming the glow of soulful fires.

   In sadness or misery, in a hurry or just plain inattentiveness, lonely nights run into lonely days and the sunrise is often ignored.  But each day is blessed with a sunrise.  The phoenix reborn from it's ashes.

   That new sunrise every morning promises a fresh start.  The rebirth of hope.  It presents a challenge, to make each night's dream today's reality.

   So, what do those pink and orange carnations mean?  They are a message, whispered reminders across the miles, there is a new sunrise.  They are a hand, gentle and caring, wiping away those tears.  They are a fresh hope for brighter days and happier nights.

   Who are they from?  They are from a messenger of love.  An engineer of hope.  An architect of dreams.  They are from me.



Powered by Qumana


Monday, February 25, 2008

A Good Surprise

I am going to treat you to two surprises with this post.


The first is my new blog, The Natural Inquirer.  No poems.  No stories.  Just the facts.  There is something there for you now, but finish here first then go check it out.


The other surprise is about my ex wife.  She wasn't too much in to me writing when we were together, but that didn't stop her from being a source of inspiration after she was gone.  I think this is the only piece I wrote about her, in response to a letter she wrote me.  I will include the letter she wrote me too.


Written 22 June 2003



Thorns and Roses


You wrote to say you want me back.
You miss me, my touch, my scent.
All the things you had given up,
when you called it off and went.

I'm fianlly ready to be the wife
you've always wanted me to be.
I'll give you love and affection
and do all those wifely duties.

Then, reminding me of the time
when our first son was born.
Awake for days to cut the cord.
I got to hold his tiny form.

I was very proud and happy
when you gave birth that day.
Two more times we were blessed.
Each child was a rose bouquet.

But our problems never ceased.
The past was full of sorries.
I never lost faith or hope,
and tried regardless of worries.

Counselling failed to help.
It was another excuse to fight.
There were several affairs,
until you met a new Mr. Right.

You decided to get divorced
and threw away our shared life.
Tired of me and our children,
you wanted to be another's wife.

You tempt me back with offers,
promises and haunting poses.
But you were just the thorns,
and I already have the roses.


I'm pretty sure that is all I wrote about her.  Now her mom, I could write libraries full of demonic poems about that lady. The Oxford University Press might have something to say about my use of the word 'lady' but I claim poetic liscense.  Poets can mangle any word.


Now, in case you forgot, check out The Natural Inquirer.


Powered by Qumana


Sunday, February 24, 2008

Purify My Love

Having a really good friendship is the perfect foundation for a long romantic relationship, but not all really good friendship should go there.


Written 21 June 2003


Purify My Love


You’re a sweet and charming friend.
A wonderful woman and confidante.
I was there for you sometimes,
And you for me when I needed it.

There was always some attraction,
but it never hurt or got in the way
I never had complaints about my looks,
while your a beauty and sexy too

We never tried to make a go of it.
When you were in the middle of one,
I was between romantic relationships.
I never thought to try waiting.

Then there was a moment when
we both felt a lonely need.
An emptiness, a hurtful void,
and we shared something more.

Now one of us feels desperation,
while the other wants their friend.
We both want each other's love.
For one, it's twisted with desire.

Touch my face, it's still me.
I want to be your close friend.
I'm sure if we embrace and talk,
You can purify my love again.



I see that some people have multiple blogs.  I am thinking about starting a science blog too.  It's nice to see your thoughts solidified into writing.


By the way, my wife is getting into programming.  I'm very proud of her.  She tries a lot of things and always shows talent as long as it holds her interest.  Keep an eye on her site for when she decides to show us examples of what she is doing.


One last thing.  I haven't actually been bringing too much interesting things to the 'net, but you have all been so supportive and friendly.  I appreciate your comments and your efforts to make me feel at home in the blog community.


Powered by Qumana


Sicko

I was way too sick yesterday to even think about the computer, so no blog entry.  I hope you all arent to disappointed.


I have decided to make it up to you all with a nice poem about how I feel when my kids are gone visiting my ex wife.  Fortunately, she hasn't felt like seeing them for four years, so I don't have to go through this too much.



Written 20 June 2003


You're Gone And I Miss You



I run my hands through the sand
warm and gritty, I like how it feels.
Raising it up, the grains fall like rain
to reveal your favorite Hotwheels.

Your gone and I miss you.

I finally did some laundry today
It was piling up and long overdue
I found Power Ranger underwear
and some of your missing socks too.

Your gone and I miss you.

Your favorite show came on.
Watching it was our evening fun.
We fought and you chose Pikachu
And I always choose Charmeleon.

Your gone and I miss you.

Dr Suess and dinosaur books
are the ones that I had read.
Does anyone read to you now
when you lay down in bed?

Your gone and I miss you

When I stop to think about us,
the life we have and things we do,
I know that when you are gone
that you must miss me too.




Powered by Qumana


Friday, February 22, 2008

The Guy You Want To Hate

The Guy You Want To Hate...


Not me. I am the guy you do hate. No, I am talking about Maddox. I really wanted to hate him, but I think I am pregnant with his baby!


His site, The Best Page In The Universe, is that offensively spewed humor that you can't stop reading. Some of it is funny for being so wrong. Some of it is funny for being so right. All of it is funny.


I found the site through Mike's blog Licensed To Blog. Well worth checking out.


For our poem today...it is a sequel. Remember me sharing Do You Still Love Me a couple of days ago? Well, this is the continuation of that poem.


Written 19 June 2003


Do You Still Love Me - Her Reply


So what does it mean
Your feelings haven't changed?
Are our plans still on
As we had first arranged?

Well, I've been thinking...
First let me say it's not you.
Kelly, You are really great,
But is our vision true?

I can't be the girlfriend
that I want myself to be.
You deserve so much more
than a less than perfect me.

I still have these feelings
for other's out of the picture.
I know their gone and done
but it makes a volatile mixture.


But I...I mean, Wait!
It's ok, you don't fret.
For you, I'm still a girlfriend.
But, for me, I don't know yet.

To me you're just a fantasy.
Superman, my man of steel.
Maybe someday when all aligns,
we can make it something real.


And here is a photograph of my cell phone after this real phone call. Phone call was real, the actual wording was different. Poeple don't really talk like that. It's called poetic liscence silly. Speaking of poetic liscense, the tear on the phone is fake. There was a real one, I wiped it away, then decided it would be a good addition.







Powered by Qumana

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Cheesecake

Cheese cake is the yummiest food. I like all kinds.

I got really hooked on cheese cake while in Germany. There was a truck that drove through the streets like an ice cream truck, only they sold breads and pastries. My girlfriend at the time surprised me with an assortment of breads and a slice of cheese cake from the truck one day. I've been hooked ever since.

While there are many kinds of cheese cake and many ways to make it, the best cheese cake of all is the one made with love just for you. A few years ago, while I was serving in the military, my wife made some cheese cakes for me to share with the folks at work.




Maybe my wife will share her recipe on her blog.

How about an old poem?

I actually really like this poem. I will say more about it afterwords.

Written 19 June 2003.

Perfection of Imperfections

Why has a frown
furrowed your brow?
why doesn't a smile grace you lips?

Oh, my dear, it's me!
You don't know.
I'm crooked or big or have wide hips.


I find you pretty,
No, beautiful and sweet.
Really, you're a gorgeous sweetheart.

I've had boyfriends.
More than just one.
Seems a lot, you think me a tart?


We have all looked,
in the most unlikely places,
for true love, our heart's desire.

You are my perfection.
A jewel tempered with
the heat of your soul's great fire

You might only see flaws,
when your view is too narrow,
and see yourself in such small sections.

Sublime beauty is created,
Nature's own transformation,
with a confluence of exquisite imperfections.


I really like the message of this poem even though I have to admit I didn't think of it myself. I got the idea from a gem merchant named Fred Feldmesser. He wrote about how nature crafts the most beautiful and valuable objects by imbuing them with imperfections.


It is an essay on gemstones, which I do not have a professional or hobbyist interest in. However, I have an interest in about everything because you never know where you will find wisdom.


Powered by Qumana

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Don't feel much like chatting

Not much feeling like writing much.  However, I will not forgo my obligatory piece of prose from my past.


Another poem about the waning long distance relationship I was having.


Written 18 June, 2003.


Do You Still Love Me



We find a special someone
A person we like to see
Feelings grow stronger
You express feelings to me

I love you Sweetheart
I love you too
Click.

We continue to explore
Who we are every day
My feeling grow richer
There's always more to say

I love you very much
I love you
Click.

I can tell you didn't like
Some show of jealousy
You say your feelings didn't change
in manner most pleasantly

I love you, Sweetie
Love ya
Click.

We broached a new subject today
history you've never known
Your feelings are quite the same
maybe they've even grown

I love you and sweet dreams
Mmmm. You too.
Click.

Now I would like to hear,
the next time you want to say
you're feelings haven't changed,
Just what are you feeling anyway?

Hmmm?
Goodnight
Click




Powered by Qumana


Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Emergency Post

I don't remember what the emergency was.  I only wanted to post one post a day.  Really.  But life is outpacing my writing speed.


Anyway...I wanted to post something and decided it couldn't wait till tomorrow.  I came to the computer and discovered to my horror that a keylogger was running on my computer.  The Ardamax Keylogger.  It was not in stealth mode or hidden in any way.  I did not install it.  It wasn't there earlier.  I installed two pieces of software today and fear it was installed by one of them.


I installed Microsoft's Visual C# Express Studio.  I installed it on my old computer without a problem.  While I do not put it past Microsoft to spy on me, I don't think they would use a third party program to do so.


The only other software I installed was Qumana.  It is the editor software I am using to write this post.  This is the most suspicious suspect.  It is decent software and it is free.  I don't yet have enough information to determine if it's install is the culprit.  I have asked Ardamax folks to tell me how to uninstall their software.  It is stealth and I can't easily find it on my system.  Once I have uninstalled it, I will reinstall the Qumana software and see if the keylogger is reinstalled.


While I do like the Qumana editor so far (my last post only required one tweak to get it right), I cannot in good conscience suggest it to anyone if it is installing a keylogger.  I'll update you when I know.


EDIT:  Qumana is safe.  And I do recommend it for editing and posting new blog entries.  The culprit was a stock market web site I went to.  Shame on them!


So, what in the heck was so important that I needed to add another post today?


Oh yeah.  Emergency stupidity warning.  You read some news and think, this is too stupid to be made up.


For want of $60, California may loose it's claim of being a green state and turn into a gray state.


A homeowner planted redwood trees in their yard.  A few years later, their neighbor installed solar panels on their property.  Now the trees are shadowing the panels.  The solar panels are a hefty 10KW system that provides all the power they need.  They say they do end up paying $60 a year for their power.  They want the shade gone.


Guess who is in their corner?  The government!  There is a law that says tress cannot block solar panels.  The couple with the trees can be fined up to $1,000 a day until they fix the problem.  It went to court and a judge ruled in favor of the solar panels.  The fines were waived, but two of the trees have to get cut down.  Because, as we all know, plastic and metal is better for the environment than trees.


Don't believe me, check it out here.


While I am here, how about a public service announcement?


A while back, I was reading on a scientific forum about the technical wonders of a new dish washing soap called Dawn Direct Foam.  One pump should do a full sink of dishes.  Sounded wondrous and the forum owner tried it and said it was truly great.


I gave it a try myself.  I still have half a bottle of it on my sink.  Truly, it is a technical marvel.  They managed to make one foamy pump of detergent last for a full sink of dishes, depending on how you do dishes.  The technical marvel is solely applied to foaminess.  It is cheating.


To compare, they started doing something to your meat a while back.  Not all meat, but most likely the meat you buy.  They prep and package it in a carbon monoxide environment.  The carbon monoxide binds to the red blood cells like oxygen, but it sticks much better than oxygen.  The result is that your meat stays pinkish red for far longer than it normally wood.  It is easier to move such fresh looking meat.  It is cheating.  The color of your meat now means nothing to you, but you think it does.


Back to foam.  What we all associate with detergent foam is it's ability to fight greasy grime.  You are being tricked.  Dawn mad scientists have found a way for the foam to last long after any grime fighting as ceased.  Not only does it do a poor job of cutting grease, but it is very difficult to rinse off.  The foam just persists and persists like the energizer bunny, but without doing anything of substance.


I went back to my Ajax.  It is a great dish detergent, cuts thru grease like a chain saw and rinses clean quickly.


No writing for you this post.  You already got your daily dose. :)


Powered by Qumana


New Editor, Long Post

Hi Folks,


I am trying a new editor, called Qumana. I'll give it a try and let you know how it works out. The defualt editor is driving me nuts. I've been trying to get this post to look right for hours.


I added a new blog to my blogroll. Blogroll, sounds like it would be yummy with cream cheese or sweet and sour sauce.


I added Mike's blog. I enjoy reading what he has to say and anyone who reads me might enjoy his blog as well.

EDIT: I added one mother like all others weblog. After reading just one post I was hooked. Witty and a great writing style.


Back to Mike. He recently mentioned some stuff about gun control, so I thought I would comment on that. I did some research about gun related crime (because of an agenda driven and possibly biased statement by Noam Chomski) and I think that the information would be informative for anyone interested.


Written 15 August 2007, some facts may not be current.


Whenever you can identify the advancement of an agenda, it is clear that the underlying facts need to be examined.
For example: Noam Chomksi states that American crime is not off the scale except when it comes to gun crime. But high gun crime is a feature of America.
Curious, I had to look at the figures myself. It was not made easy because the obvious conclusion is that gun regulation will limit gun crime. Gun regulation varies by state, so while it might be useful to compare 'American' statistics to other countries, it is also useful to compare statistics from state to state to see how gun regulation is affecting gun crime.
First thing I noticed is that gun regulation does indeed seem to correspond to gun crime. Not the way you might think. The states with the highest gun related crimes like Washington D.C. also have the highest regulation. States like Alaska and Virginia that have very little gun regulation also suffer the least amount of gun crime.
This does not say anything at all about whether regulation affects gun crime however. It could simply be that regulation follows crime and D.C. has not had a sufficient amount of time for the statistics to catch up to the figures.
A comparison to Canada might help, as it has more stringent gun controls than the average U.S. state. The figure show that while crime is higher in Canada overall (7+% compared to 5+%), gun related crimes are indeed fewer. But again, if we take into consideration that not all areas of Canada have the same regulations and crime inputs, we find that some areas have more gun related crime. But overall, there may be evidence of gun regulation and crime reduction being linked, but it is too close to call.
A look at the UK gives us even better information, for they have had strict gun control laws for a very long time. Oddly enough, their crime reporting web page says that gun crime has been on the rise every year. And while they proudly remark that gun related crime is actually very low (.5% of all reported crimes) it actually compares unfavorably with American statistics (.3%).
Interestingly enough, gun crime is becoming such a problem in the UK, some gangsta wannabes actually field mock handguns because they cannot reasonably source a real firearm. Overall, the facts and figures seem to only indicate one thing about gun regulation. Criminals don't really care about regulations.


Well, I know that I have already posted a lot, but let's leave on a brighter note. Another piece of prose that reveals bits about me.


Written 18 June 2003


Boys Grow Up To Be Monsters


I love my mommy so much
why does she always cry?
I want her to be happy
I would give anything a try.


"I want to tell you a story,
so come here my little boy.
You've seen me cry and fret
because daddy treats me like a toy.”


He doesn't play, but is not mean.
Daddy is so nice, I thought.
He takes me out on his dates,
and it's nice to be brought.


"Daddy shouldn't go on dates
with anyone but me, my son.
He says bad things but also
it's everything that he's done."


"Men don't love and appreciate
women the way they are.
They never want the woman they have,
just the one they see from far."


"Their children are treated
like a pestilence they detest.
The won't cook, clean or help.
They just come home and rest."


"They don't talk or think
or really feel for their mate.
They learn to say whatever
is needed to manipulate."


"I love you dearly, son,
this knowledge I try to foster:
You'll grow up to be a man,
then you'll too be a monster."


I heard this spiel several times
from age of nine through fifteen.
The monster leaves me full of guilt,
no matter how good a man I've been.


Parents often do the most damage when they don't think about what they are doing at all.



Powered by Qumana

Shame on me

I don't really feel sorry for myself. I don't have any regrets and for the most part I am pretty happy about most things. But I do let my disability excuse me from doing a lot. My knees, ankles and feet are all pretty messed up and I can't get around well and I'm usually in a decent amount of pain.

I feel ashamed of myself when I meet or hear of someone who has it worse than I do. As vets know, the VA is not what we would wish it to be. Government support of disabled vets could be better. I haven't seen a doctor or gotten medication in over a year now. On the one hand, who knows how much better shape I would be in if I was able to afford a doctor and medication. On the other hand, it goes to show that I can survive without. So why do I keep sitting on my butt? I guess I just need to see that it could be worse to know I'm not in as bad a condition as I could be.

As far as my writing...I am going to keep shoving the old stuff down your throat till I am out, then I will write something new for you.

This one was written while maintaining a long distance relationship

Written on 17 June 2003

Your Kiss

Where is your kiss?
I feel phantom lips
graze my cheeks like butterfly wings

I reach for you
and I can feel you
your skin singing to my fingertips

Your warm breath
caresses my neck
as my head rests on my folded hands

your soft voice
whispers in my ear
telling me your love is near

your divine embrace
bringing it all together
is two thousand eight hundred miles away

My head was literally resting on my hands as this came to me. I didn't even feel like writing it down. My girlfriend at the time was not overly interested in my poetry. I didn't write it for her, but to share my feelings with my friends in the only way I could adequate express them.

It is like that quote from Vladimir Nabokov (not exact quote as I couldn't find it with a quick search)
I think like a genius
I write like a distinguished man of letters
I talk like an idiot.


If anyone finds his real quote, please post it and I will fix my blog.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Brrr.

It's cold today.

Today's prose is an ode to two left feet.

Written 17 June 2003

Can't Dance
You move with such grace
Twisting and turning
You glow, a smile on your face
And leave men yearning.
But I can't dance
Worse than two left feet
I stand in a trance
Even arms missing the beat
But I love the way
our hands frolic and touch
Wanting it every day
I can never get too much
My tongue salsas and dips
with passion and heat
caressing sensuous lips
Your taste is so sweet
Even our feelings entwine
and seem to move as one
in a waltz most divine.
I hope that it's never done
But, every Saturday night
you move with men and flirt.
jealous tears dim my sight
I can't dance, and I hurt
I considered skipping this one, as it is not very good. But that would be cheating. I wrote it, so you get to read it. :)

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Civilian life sucks

I spent 20 great years in the military. I have become accustomed to a certain quality of life. Not a wealthy life, but a great life. The military is built on a foundation of mutual respect and military communities are close and friendly.

While in the military it might seem trying at times, but after leaving the military you realize that even the lowest times were great.

The apartment complex I live in now is managed by the worst harpy I have ever met. I've only talked to her twice and it is such a horrible experience that it gives me stomach aches and I avoid contact when possible.

On top of all the common dealings I've had with people who are perpetually miserable, disrespectful and completely selfish, now my car has been broken into and the radio stolen.

But enough of that. I have more writing to share. :) I won't tell you what I was thinking about when I wrote it, that would give away the surprise.

I will give you a warning...it is sexually suggestive.

I wrote this on 17 June, 2003

Impulse

Soft and silky smooth
Beneath my hand
I bend in to kiss
and draw in your scent
I can't resist
and take you in my hands
I pull you to me
Cup you and feel you
twist you and pull you
For hours, in my arms
Now on my lap
Hair through my fingers
and on my chest
Drawing near now
I know the end is close
but I don't want it to be
Finished, satisfaction
mixed with doubt.
I stand behind you with
My arms around your waist
We purview what we have accomplished
and you softly say
"You call this a french braid?
You need more practice."
Once again, I take you
lovingly into my hands...

See...a little trick. Not about what you thought. But when you love everything you do, your life is filled with passion.
I hope every one's weekends are going great.
~Kelly

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Two for the price of one

Today, you are all in for a treat.

My son, Zachary, read my post from yesterday and decided to write a poem commemorating mommy's birthday. He honored me by asking to post it on my blog. So, you get his poem plus another oldy from my past.

First, from Zachary, written on February 14, 2008

February 19th

I awake in the soft morning
and I see birds soaring
in the sky ever so lightly
that's barely the beginning
I go down stairs on February 19th
taking light steps
I step to make a noise
not on purpose
there is a surprise
but I won't tell
but I can tell you one thing
it's a celebration.
I happily indulge his reading and writing. I remember when he was in first grade. I was teaching him. He was so timid about reading, fearing that he would not do well. Not only did he shock himself that year, but he surpassed all my expectations and blew the lid off of Idaho's standardized testing, having tested as a fourth grader. It was the highest the test could register.

Now for myself, who did not do as well in school. :)
Not a poem today, but a philosophical musing. At the time, I was a single father of three and took a long look at my life, at how 'on track' I was and how effective my focus was. This piece of writing sums up my conclusion.

Written on June 16th, 2003

What Are Heroes?

I just wanted to be a hero. All my life, I wanted to do something spectacular. Be someone that no one else was. I wanted to have an impact on people that would be felt their whole lives.

But, I was growing up. No superpowers manifested. I got a job, and then another and then joined the military. Then I had a girlfriend and another and then got married. It wasn't long before I had children and my life was so full. Then a divorce and I didn't have time to even think.

My dreams of being a hero where just that. Sly little dreams of a sleeping mind. I didn't even have time to fantasize about it when I was awake.

Instead of curing cancer, I was kissing boo-boos and lavishing ouchies with Spongebob band aids.
Instead of wearing tights and having a utility belt, I dressed in a uniform and marched off to work.
Instead of slicking back my hair and singing rocks songs, I cranked up the stereo and sang along to Barney and Veggie Tales.
Instead of being a rocket scientist and creating teleporters, I was helping my kids with their math homework.
Instead of being a suave, muscle bound actor in the latest action flick, I was the too-white, love-handle toting creature from the depths of the swimming pool.
Instead of a rich multi-millionaire, I was the guy struggling to put a roof over our head and food on the table.
Instead of racing formula one cars around a track, I was creeping along neighborhood streets, watchful of children and pets darting between cars.

Somehow, I managed to drift through my entire life missing every opportunity to amount to anything. I know what kind of heroes there were. I wondered which ones my kids looked up to the most. I called them in and asked them. I knew the most popular names, and all the cartoon heroes to boot. I watch all the same TV they do.

Three little toddlers marched on in. "Kids, who is your favorite hero?" giggles. Lots of giggles and bouncing. "Duh," started my oldest, Zachary. They all pointed at me and said "Daddy is!". Hehe. "No, babies. I mean, who is super! Who do you think can take care of anything? Who can make the world safe? Who knows everything and can do anything?" "Daddy can!" Bouncing and zooming commenced. Three kids piled high on my lap and gave me big hugs.

You know what? I am a hero. I didn't just become one type of hero. I became them all. And I had the greatest impact on the most important people in the world. Who says dreams don't come true?

I remember writing that. I wonder if I asked them today what their answer would be?
Edit: My formatting is not sticking very well. I am doing my best to relearn HTML so I can fix it, but you might catch some ugly or at least some odd formatting occasionally as I fix it up.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Let's get this party started

I'm not really interested in blogging. I'm not one to flow with the crowd either. So why I am writing a blog now? Because my wife told me too. :)

I don't have any great wisdom to pass on or incredible experiences to share. I'm not sure what to write. I think I will post some of my writings. A few years ago I started writing stories and poems and I think I will share them with you all (whomever you all may turn out to be).


Here is a poem I wrote on June 15, 2003

An attempt at something romantic


Tormenting Visions of an Angel


Ethereal beauty, her bright face
The long flowing auburn tresses
Arms poised for a warm embrace
and ready with teasing caresses

Her genuine warmth radiates
while saddened shadows haunt
A charming spirit fascinates
as a sweet, kind soul does taunt

Half lidded eyes a dreaming
do see me as I gaze in wonder
She is open to me it is seeming
But who's spell is who under?

Does she see the worn humble shell
of a man used and nearly empty?
Can anyone who knows of her tell
if her vision of me nears 20/20?

While I do harbor patience, devotion,
warmth and love, the stormy passion
has been tempered by abused emotion.
Now spring rains are more my fashion.

I am struck numb and indecisive.
Should I withdraw or maybe pursue?
If it were your hearts missive,
which do you think you would do?

I do so wish to see her smile.
To kiss away her tender pain
(Oh so much has burdened her awhile)
Till only happiness will remain

To Be touched by her sleeping breath
And hold her till she has no doubt.
I would know her love till my death.
I'd gladly seek to end loves drought.

It makes me smile to read this. I am so transparent. I was divorced and my state of mind shows. I refer to her genuineness and kindness while I speak of my poor abused self and my doubts.

I will post something else tomorrow. Maybe we will see not only development in my writing, but emotional development as well.