“Don’t ask her her age. That would be so rude!”
“As if. This is a new age, old man. Age is just a number now.”
“That’s a bunch of bull, and you know it. Ask it and be relegated to the dustbin of relationship history.”
“Everything you say tells the universe how old you are. What was it like to ride a triceratops?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll get to see for yourself when she slaps you so hard she sends you back in time.”
Vinyl jacket? Check.
Indigo blue Hawaiian shirt? You bet!
Nice pair of alligator slip-on loafers for the win.
Those corduroy bell bottoms would make it even nicer.
And the gold chains dangling added just the right amount of bling
Give me that fedora and the biggest feather you’ve got
Everything here might be old, but so am I so therefore it’s all…
What clothes you have on dictate how society views you
Even though they claim it’s what’s underneath that’s important
And that’s why he was going to his job interview in an old Nirvana t-shirt and jean shorts
Realizing that what mattered above all else was being the CEO’s son
Reaching down, she scooped up a handful of the deep dark soil
Old smells of peat and fertilizer mingled with aromas of earth and moisture
Overhead, the sun poured light down, saturating the field
The seeds there were snuggling underneath their cozy brown blanket
So many people wondered why she chose to be a farmer, but this was where she had her…
So many wires going here and there
More than what is needed right now, but you want to be ready for the future
Oh I know it can get confusing, but that’s okay
Keep track of everything right up here in my big old brain
Except I forgot and now the smoke alarm is going off. Damn!
*a semi-fictitious tale. There was no smoke in my case. lol
Cooking the lights out every night was her goal in life
Harvesting awesome flavors from every ingredient she touched
Extreme foodies would travel from halfway around the world to sample her dishes
Focusing on that dream, the six-year-old watched her mom boil water
The situation was very sticky that she found herself in
All the good intentions in the world were not going to help her now
Pushing the button, the last of her coins activated the slot machine
Everyone watched the miracle on the old grainy video when they pulled the …
Creating sagas out of pictures and words
Organized in windowed snapshots of time
Manipulating sounds silently through POW and SNIKT
It is an artform consumed by young and old
Capturing the human condition with characters who are more than that
So it was time to work, but he didn’t want to
How was he supposed to do this for the rest of his active life
If he waited until he could retire, he would be too old to do anything fun
F his boss and all the talk about work-life balance
The fact that he punched the timeclock and not his supervisor was a miracle
Been yanking on his face hairs since she was a wee little babe
Every day was a repeat of the last, and he loved every minute of it
And yet, one day she decided she was too old to do it anymore
Reaching for his own face hairs, he gave them a tug
Damn that hurt. It just wasn’t the same.
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
Sharing is Learning
AUTHOR
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 