© 2008 -- 2011 the Grandpa at The Word Mechanic. All rights reserved.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Think about it

I came across this little gem of wisdom today on a listserv I'm on.

The moon is more important than the sun. That's because the moon shines at night when it is needed.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Worth visiting

Take a look at CARCINOGENIC POETRY. I think whether you write poetry or simply like poetry, you might find it interesting.

Friday, June 10, 2011

"I drink champagne."

Does anyone know how to motorize a piano? I don't play any wind instrument other than a harmonica, but S suggested we join this band to expand our circle of friends. 

Enjoy.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Now

I've been struggling with the idea of later

and how there comes a time
when you have to stop putting it off and say,

this is later.
This is the time you've always said there would be
for whatever has to happen now.

At first it felt sad.
But today I came back to poetry
and knew I should have abandoned the idea of later
a long time ago.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Cats and Dogs

My sister-in-law sent this to me a while back, so I thought sharing it would be a good way to get back into the blogosphere.

The Dog's Diary:


8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!

9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!

9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!

10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!

12:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!

1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!

3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!

5:00 pm - Dinner! My favorite thing!

7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!

8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!

11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!

------------------------------------------

The Cat's Diary:

Day 983 of my captivity.

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates my capabilities. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. Jerks!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage. Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow, but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released, and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird must be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now.