The Path of No Path

It is the right, and I believe the duty, of all who would call themselves good citizens, and most especially those of us who are curmudgeon-ly inclined to ask questions that are of a pesky nature. It is these heart of the matter, cut to the chase kind of questions that are often left unasked and or answered. Some of these you will have seen before. So, I am ... I am curious. Which countries would Jesus invade? Who would Jesus bomb? Which of your children would Jesus not educate? Whose civil rights would Jesus take away? How many forced labor camps would Jesus own? Who would Jesus torture? For what kind of information would Jesus decide that torture is appropriate? What would cause Jesus to invent water-boarding? Which Alter boys would Jesus fondle? For what reason would Jesus change the name of illegal kidnapping to Extraordinary Rendition? How many LBGT persons would Jesus beat to death? Whose insurance claim for injuries sustained from being raped would Jesus deny? Whose health care ...

The 3:14 to now(here) Words to the left, words to the right. Stand up, sit down; write, write, write! Pesky term papers turning my brain to soup. Grammar and vocabulary do loop-de-loop. Term paper complete. All the info she asked for. In one neat haiku. Would that it were that simple. (the above waku brought to you by Curmudgeon insomniacs Inc.) - From the mobile Curmudgeon via his trusty iPhone be | amazing

Rain Percussive rain. Loud! Stirs me from my nap. Gently. Soaring mind. No limits! - From the mobile Curmudgeon via his trusty iPhone be | amazing

A haiku. Melody The stream sings to me Joyful eddys spin with life Seated on the bank - Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

A close friend asked me to write something for them. This is the result. I rather like it. High Tide My feet see the line that separates the water from the soft sand  as I walk down the beach. Lingering yellow sunlight insists that I notice the horizon, but my thoughts are  elsewhere. Years ago walking this same beach we talked and laughed jumping over mounds of kelp. Cool water and sticky sand keep my feet directed helping me in my meandering. Water rises around my knees lunar cycles telling me high tide approaches shifting the sands beneath me.  Harvest Moon blending with 40 watt bug bulb and stars on the hotel balcony illuminate. Memories of times I cannot remember surface for but a moment only hinting at their mystery. Musky salt heavy breezes carry the laughter and footsteps of lovers walking beneath my room oblivious. Nearby a radio plays an  old Curtis Mayfield tune leaning back in my chair I prop my feet up on the rail. Does the Moon feel the pas...

Rainstorm on Meditation Hill Don’t get me wrong, I like rain. I like walking in it. To me it sounds like homemade Fajitas with peppers, onions and fresh spices sizzling in a cast iron frying pan. There is however, a particular kind rain at the Oregon coast, specifically in Newport Oregon, when wind and rain combine, such that, within a half a mile of the coast that it will rain in a curious sideways fashion. As if the world had been tilted ninety degrees. This horizontal rain has its own beauty, but after three straight days of it, I too was ready for some change. It was, after all, the second week of June. Nearly summer. I was jittery and jumpy. Though not a coffee drinker, which I know in Oregon, is just plain wrong, but nevertheless, it was like I was on my fifth double mochaccino. Whatever that is. I needed to get out of the house and fast! Backing out of the driveway I notice that the sun is just starting to break through the clouds and in the distance I see a double rainbow. Co...

Heart of the forest Surrounded by mist and Fae Wonder of the small - Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone