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Odds and Ends No. 32

I stared at this blank page long enough.
A lot going through my mind but not
getting through to the page, so I went

back to my openSUSE Tumbleweed
desktop and played a game hoping it
would jar something profound loose.

I just spit my gum out. She had a pack
on the counter. I had eaten a simple
sandwich, three radishes, and three

olives not caring if my stomach virus
and nagging cold go berserk. Maybe it
was the Dijon or my mild cup of tea,

but I thought a stick of gum would
help. It didn’t. It was like a burst of
sweet chemicals in my mouth and

in minutes turned to rubber that I
could no longer chew. That quickly
reminded me why I don’t chew gum

anymore. I thought the game would be
a great alternative to thinking. I was
wrong even though the pieces started

falling faster at Level 3. This is the
only thing I do right-handed as the
arrow buttons are on the right side of

the keyboard. Surprised I can play at
all. But by Level 6 I was still shaking
my head about events in Paris and

the ongoing anal political events with
North Korea wondering if world stupidity
would prevail. I couldn’t concentrate

any longer and crashed.

Score 1739980
Lines 61
Level 7

Respectable score even though I
feel like crap. Just as well. I believe
good writing (or art forms) are just

that: Good. Not driven by an agenda
or filled with hate, anger, abuse, and
the like. I came close to the edge up

there thinking of world events. Well,
I do have views, opinions, and yada
yada, yada. Many things. But rather,

the Apostle Paul told the Philippians,
“Finally, brothers, whatever is true,
whatever is honorable, whatever is

just, whatever is pure, whatever is
lovely, whatever is commendable, if
there is any excellence, if there is

anything worthy of praise, think about
these things.” She just got home. I
helped her in with a few things; decided

to eat a carrot. As I walked back to my
red desk, I asked, “Did you get your toes
done?” “Yes,” she said. Walking back to

her, I said, “I forgot to look; let me see!”
A beautiful Bougainvillea color. “Very
pretty!” Back at my desk, I wished the

carrot was a cigar because I don’t smoke
anymore. Not since 1976; but the desire
still lingers. Listen, I want you to have

hope, not fear. Hard to do in the chaos of
the world today. Paul continued, “What
you have learned and received and heard

and seen in me—practice these things,
and the God of peace will be with you.” A
carrot, cigar, or world news can’t top that.

Categories: Poetry

Tagged as:


Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)

I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)

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