______________________________________________________________________________________________

PROGRAMMING NOTE from the Author and Archivist


So obviously I just stopped blogging on this platform. I'll get back to it eventually. Or not. I'm taking a break from all social media. It seemed necessary for my mental health.

The last few years have been busy and … challenging:

- 2015 Happened.
- 2016 Let's call it The Lost Year. (Obviously words failed me.)
- 2017 about broke me. Literally. Mentally.
- 2018 was ridiculous, proving 2017 was just a warm up. (Good thing I was already broken so it couldn't hurt as much.#2018TrashCanFire I thought things were going okay, but maybe not?)

- 2019 was such a blur. I know there were highlights, but then stuff happened and carried into the next year...

- And then in March#2020 really took a turn. Who can even categorize 2020? Do we dare?


I kinda want a do-over of some of the last few years. But life doesn’t work that way.


So for now, I'm hunkering down. Regrouping. Trying to stay safe and sort some stuff out.


Stay safe everyone. Stay well.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Monday, July 23, 2012

Retroblogging: Dubious Childhood Poetry I

More entries from the "lost" archives of my youth. Not only did I think I could be an artist, but apparently, I thought I was a poet; though no good, and I just didn't know it.

I call these the
Roses are Red series. I cannot claim that they are any good at all. In fact, they are pretty awful. Sadly, later odes don't get any better. Enjoy? (Don't say I didn't warn you...)

Poems c. December 1982

Roses are Red

1.
Roses are red.
Tree bark is brown
I just got slapped
For an improper noun.

2.
Roses are red
Pansies are purple
Drink too much pop
And you're liable to burble.

3.
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
The chef caught his toe
And fell in the stew.

No comments: