Perhaps you should sit quietly and think about what if…
Or at least open your mind to the possibilities
Now that you see what is available, you can take action
Determine how to make the changes needed to get there
Everything action leading to the next, but…
Remember all that action stems from the moments of silence.
Doomed to keep repeating her mistakes like some deranged version of Groundhog Day
Rachel kept trying to break the cycle
Except she never found a way
And so here she was again
Doomed to keep repeating her mistakes like some deranged version of Groundhog Day
Risking it all on a forty-footer
And as the basketball left her hand, the clocks went to all zeroes
Now it was now all physics, the skill was already committed
Google clutch, and it would show this shot if it goes in
Everyone waited seemingly forever as the ball bounced on the rim once, twice…
“Being a creature of the night, it is an obvious spirit animal.”
“Ah, so you identify as a skunk?”
“That’s not funny, Gordon. Do that one more time and I take back the spotlight.”
Dowsing for deeply hidden water
Realizing that there was no x to make the spot
Yet the glass I hold is demanding to be filled
“As I give you this certificate of competition, do you have anything to say?”
“What? Are you saying I won?”
“And why would you think that? You’re score placed you dead last”
“Right, but I still get a trophy? You know, for giving it my best shot.”
“Don’t be silly. Trophies are for winners. You get a piece of paper with your name misspelled on it.”
“Can I borrow your saber for a second?”
“Okay, first I don’t own a saber. Second, why?”
“Really want to open this bottle of champagne.”
“Know what, let’s go buy one. I want to see if you succeed or chop your hand off.”
Good char slowly developed on the wieners
Releasing their juices to drip onto the hungry flames below
It made a pleasing aroma to those gathered around
Leaving them to contemplate the communal feast they were about to partake
Loving the dog days of summer
Revealing each tear slowly
As the thought of you not being here sets in
It soon becomes a torrent, soaking the earth in front of me
Not that I noticed. I was lost in the emotional downpour
“And that’s when I asked about his heavy drinking past”
“Now that’s a new one. I never knew he did that.”
“Gonna confess, he doesn’t have one”
“Let me get this right, you asked someone about a past you know they didn’t have?”
“Everyone has a ghost, I just picked the wrong haunted house.”
Stories and photos from Scotland
A paper-cut survivor
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
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Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
Never Short On Words 