26 December 2011

Sundown Out On The Town

Sundown Out On The Town
24 December 2011

I drove with friends over the bridge 
To Coronado. Below the ridge
We parked on Pomona and walked 
Past the Boathouse to City Hall 
Where we admired and talked
About the photography stall
Of yesteryear's Tent  City.
The fountain had organic styling
With hexagonal and itty-bitty
Cut rectangular tiling
Morphing into curved metaphors.
We crossed the street and
Passed thru Coronado Shores
To reach the beach sand. 
The low tide was out very far, 
Exposing a broad promenade.
We strolled down the sand bar
Watching the breakers cascade 
Down the shoreline. Next we 
Admired house styles amid
Decorations on the way to coffee. 
As we sipped our hot liquid,
We chatted and took in society.
Back out on the street with bravado
We went to a jewel of the local variety
Known as the Hotel del Coronado. 
There we admired the Christmas tree 
In the lobby, then went downstairs 
And outside by the ice skating locality.
On the west of the rink instead of chairs
We found a bench to sit on as time went by
For the sunset. From a cloudless sky, 
The sun leisurely sank into the ocean.
Back inside we listened to a chorus 
Who were dressed in Dickens fashion.
The holiday lights were decorous 
Against the darkening sky.
People taking photos had to ignore us
As we interrupted passing by.

After all was said and done,
The scene I give first place
Was the natural majesty
Of watching the sun
Going at its own pace
Sinking into the sea.

23 December 2011

Physique Mystique

Physique Mystique
20 December 2011

Following my propensity
And the immensity of intensity
To utmost sensation density
And release of body tenseness
Easing stubborn resident stress,
So I  support and express yes
To the complex 
Natural reflex
And savor sex.

12 December 2011

Bucolic Frolic

Bucolic Frolic
10 December 2011
The occasion was the holidays,
The group was Finest City Squares
For a party at P, B and J’s.
Invited were lesbians and bears.
The hosts were genial and pleasant,
Their condo tastefully decorated
And welcoming to all who were present.
We munched until we were sated
On hors d’oeurves, fruitcake,
Nuts, chips, soda and wine.
Also, the coffee, cheesecake
And cookies were very fine.
Cross-stitching was displayed
And Christmas stockings that had 
Been personalized and handmade.
Carols on the piano added a tad.
The large tree in the living room had
Medallions designed by Wedgewood
And the Metropolitan Museum fad.
Also, pierced ornaments from Waterford
And Lennox, plus a strung popcorn 
And wooden cranberry garland.
In the other room a small tree was reborn.
Above the crocheted skirt and stand.
The ornaments had a duplication of stylization
Shoes of high-healed variation and inspiration.
We were told by way of narration information
That the proliferation, ostentation and veneration
Was a cause of irritation, indignation and protestation
With possible subjugation or mitigation
By reputation litigation, defamation
Or character assassination,
Which was the motivation for the instigation
And machination of a stipulation
Leading to the cessation and limitation 
On the replication, infestation and inundation
Of more such creations and simulations
Causing indications of jubilation
And peace on earth integration.

08 December 2011

Thief Motif

A tale well told bears retelling in a different setting.
Thief Motif
originally by Alfred Noyes 
7 December 2011
The wind was a torrent in darkness among the cedar trees,
The moon was a ghostly countenance upon a cloudy breeze,
The road was a ribbon in the moonlight crossing the range of pasture land,
And the train robber came riding—
The robber came riding, reaching a ranch house by the Rio Grande.
He'd a ten-gallon hat on his head and a bandana at his chin.
He'd jeans of faded blue denim, and a coat of fine buckskin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his calf.
And he rode with a merry jingle—
His spur rowels a-jingle—
His rein bits a-jingle, with an easy chuckle and a cheerful laugh.
Over the ground he clopped and jangled into the dark barnyard.
He tapped on the shutters with his lash, but all was locked and barred.
He whistled a tune to an upper window, and who should be waiting there
But the cattle baron's blue-eyed daughter—
Elsie, the cattle baron's daughter—
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long blond hair.
Down in the dark old barnyard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tom, the cowhand listened—his face was white and peaked—
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like moldy hay,
But he loved the cattle baron's daughter—
The cattle baron's blue-eyed daughter;
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say:
"One kiss, my lovely sweetheart. I'm after a prize tonight.
I shall be back with the railroad’s gold before the morning light.
Yet if they press me sharply and harry me through the day,
i'll be in view by moonlight,
Listen for my cue by moonlight,
I'll come to you by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
He stood upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burned like a brand.
The sweet blond waves of perfume came tumbling over his chest,
Then he kissed its skeins in the moonlight
O sweet blond mane in the moonlight!
Then he tugged at his reins in the moonlight and galloped away to the west.
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon.
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
When the road was a slender ribbon over the dusky range,
The vigilante troops came riding—
The sheriff's men came riding, up to the baron’s grange.
They said no word to the cattle baron; they drank his beer instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed.
Two of them knelt at her casement with rifles by their side.
There was Death at every window,
And Hell at one scary window,
For Elsie could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.
They had bound her up at attention, with many a sniggering jest!
They had bound a rifle beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. But she heard the robber say,
"I'll be in view by moonlight,
Listen for my cue by moonlight,
I'll come to you by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."
She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands until her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, time crawling when nothing occurs,
Until, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold on the stroke of midnight,
Strenuously struggling with all her might! The gun trigger at last was hers!
The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest;
Up, she stood up at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast.
She would not risk their hearing, she would not push her hedge,
For the road lay plain in the moonlight,
Bare across the terrain in the moonlight,
And the blood in her veins in the moonlight, throbbed to her lover's pledge.
Tlot tlot, tlot tlot! Had they heard it? The horse’s hooves, ringing clear;
Tlot tlot, tlot tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The train robber came riding—
The vigilantes perked up at the tidings! She stood up straight and still.
Tlot tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger traversed in the moonlight—
Her rifle burst the moonlight—
Burst her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.
He turned, he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head over the rifle, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn did he hear it, and his face grew grey to hear
How Elsie, the cattle baron's daughter,
The cattle baron's blue-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his pistol brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his cravat
When they shot him down in the roadway,
Down like a dog in the roadway,
And he lay in his blood in the roadway, out on the sagebrush flat.
And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly countenance upon a cloudy breeze,
When the road’s a ribbon crossing the range of pasture land,
The train robber comes riding—
The train robber comes riding, reaching a ranch house by the Rio Grande.
Over the ground he clops and jangles in the dark barnyard,
He taps on the shutters with his lash, but all is locked and barred,
He whistles a tune to the upper window, and who should be waiting there
But the cattle baron's blue-eyed daughter—
Elsie, the cattle baron's daughter—
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long blond hair.

07 December 2011

Clothespress Distress

Clothespress Distress
6 December 2011
I’m in a bit of a pickle,
In a perplexing stew.
You bet your last nickel
I’m unsure of what to do.
Going out, I’m preparing;
A dilemma I’m giving air
As into my closet I’m staring,
Wondering what to wear.

02 December 2011

Wishin' on a MIssion

Today I rhymed more of my great-grandfather Jesse N. Smith's journal.

Uncle John remarked that himself and his
Brothers had always desired that a son
Of the family should be an educated whiz.
For that purpose they sent their one
Youngest brother Stephen to be educated.
However, he died in early manhood.
He wished me to remain and be matriculated
In school here. I greatly desired, if I could,
To get an education, however, I preferred 
To go upon the mission. When I told him 
About my resolution, we each were conferred
A Patriarchal blessing. According to my whim
We proceeded on our journey southward 
With one horse team, one ox team an’ 
A few cows. At Payson which, we were assured, 
Was then the nearest settlement to Parowan.

30 November 2011

Nerd’s Keywords

Nerd’s Keywords
29 November 2011

My online wealth manual highly preferred
Using AdSense for money earned
A search of the US for the last year returned-
Top Searches: facebook, how to, you
Weather, craigslist, lyrics, games,
But no personal or celebrity names.
Rising Searches lists minecraft, wells fargo
Netflix, translate, amazon, facebook.com
But doesn’t list TV shows or a sitcom.
Poems was a popular search in Arlington,
Texas; Phoenix, New York, Atlanta,
Los Angeles, Chicago, Washington,
Dallas, Houston and Philadelphia.
Poetry was searched in Chicago, 
Washington, Philadelphia and Dallas;
Also in Seattle, Atlanta, San Francisco, 
New York, Houston and Los Angeles.

28 November 2011

Come Hither Weather

In southern California the air usually flows from the ocean to inland. Periodically in the fall, the air flow is reversed from inland to the ocean. Such a condition is called Santa Ana. Air from inland areas actually blows over desert regions so is warm with very low humidity. That condition happened yesterday and inspired today's poem.

Come Hither Weather
28 November 2011
It’s much too nice to stay
Inside. The temperatures say,
“Come outside and play.”

24 November 2011

Take Myself Off the Shelf

Take Myself Off the Shelf
23 November 2011
What a miracle it must be
To be me, really me!
I have a great ancestry,
An impeccable pedigree
With heroes in my family tree.
That’s why I must be 
The very best of me,
And follow my passion of poetry
As an expression of a higher me.
That way my life can serve to be
A guide to those who follow me.
What a blessing it must be,
What a gift it must be!

21 November 2011

Great-Grandfather's Journal

This morning I worked on rhyming my great-grandfather's journal, Jesse Nathaniel Smith. Here he talks about the first winter in Salt Lake City.

Most had not been able to purchase a supply
For a year, then freight it across the plains
And mountains with scanty means, having to rely
On weak teams and frail wagon trains.
I was just at an age when my appetite
Was very keen, but there was no other way.
We put ourselves on rations; food being tight,
About a half a pound of flour per day
Without any vegetables, but a little beef,
Sometimes none, and milk from a cow.
I herded cows the whole winter without relief.

18 November 2011

Possibilities and Limitations

English is a wonderful language full of possibilities. Wiktionary has over two and a half million English entries. Although many words are science and industry specific. Sometimes I think English never met a word it didn't like. Many foreign words have been imported whole. That means many rhyming possibilities.

However, in composing poems, periodically I've come across a word that's hard to rhyme. The Complete Rhyming Dictionary edited by Clement Wood on pages 117 & 118 gives a short list of words that don't rhyme. I've spent the last few months going thru my rhyming dictionaries culling words that don't rhyme or that rhyme with only one or two other words. In other words, these are words to avoid. They can still be used in poetry, just not at the end of the line to rhyme. My hope, dear reader, is that you will help me add words to or delete them from my list. Here's a sample of common English words that don't rhyme: agent, also, ancient, bogus, bozo, budget, bulb, citrus, country, damage, delta, eighth, else, film, fortress, gospel, govern, helmet, hungry, icon, iron, joyful, junior, kiln, kingdom, liquid, limit, market, memo, naked, ninety, object, office, poem, polka, questioned, quotient, refuge, riot, sahib, sculpt, temple, topaz, ulcer, unit, velvet, visit, width, and wolf.  For the complete list, you can contact me by leaving your email address in the comments or use Facebook or whatever works.

16 November 2011

Allegory Story

Allegory Story
16 November 2011
The accuser
Of the abuser
Was a loser
Whose blues
Was a ruse
To make the news.
Don’t confuse
Outward success
And public address
With inner mess.
Celebrity tabloids
Are full of factoids
And celluloids
About a star’s erosion
And career corrosion
With an implosion,
Who’s standing halts
When behavior results
From character faults. 

14 November 2011

Visualization Affirmation

Visualization Affirmation
14 November 2011
Who’s that handsome dude in the mirror
With a golden earring in his ear?
Life is better this year.
Still wishing for money up to here,
But visualizing crystal clear 
Many sources, never fear.
From a product’s premier
Forging ahead in a career.
Also imagining someone dear
Who is loving and near.
Enjoying health and cheer
With many a peer
While traveling from here
Like the jet set tier.

13 November 2011

Following Breadcrumbs

Initially they didn't look like breadcrumbs from the universe. My email was hacked this week while I was on my computer. The reason I knew was from all the bounced emails. On advice from a fairly computer savvy friend, I changed my email password. To to that I had to log onto the AT&T site using the same username and password that I use to pay my bill. I have a Mac and just click on the mail icon to read my email. Once in a while there will be a bar across the top of an email saying the computer thinks a particular email is spam. While I was in my account changing my password, I noticed emails in the spam folder.
Several years ago I joined Toastmasters to learn how to respond to impromptu questions. At a couple of their events I heard Darren LaCroix speak and even went to his Humor Bootcamp. Later Darren did a webinar with Lynn Rose where she introduced the WOW Factor. WOW standing for Without Walls, meaning speaking fearlessly. Last spring Lynn did a webinar with Wendy Robbins who wrote the book, "Why Marry a Millionaire? Just Be One!" Then over the summer Wendy is a series of webinars with all kinds of movers and shakers, from thought leaders to cutting-edge technology. Since I'm on my computer for hours at a time anyway, I was looking for a way to make money using the internet. From Wendy's interviews I connected with more people sharing free ideas and insights about living more abundantly. Okay, I did spend money Jim Kwik's memory and reading improvement series. See my video about improving memory.
Meanwhile back at the ranch, I had also bought into uQast but stopped hearing from them and figured they probably took my money and ran. I don't have a vindictive personality to go chasing after them, which just would have been good money after bad. But when I accessed my email differently, there were emails in the spam folder. In going thru those "spam" emails I was able to reconnect and revitalized my learning curve.

10 November 2011

Obstinate Magistrate

Obstinate Magistrate
10 November 2011
The county fair judge 
Wouldn’t move or budge
From his decision on the fudge
In spite of the bribery nudge
And characterization smudge.

09 November 2011

Metamorphosis Process

I took Jack Random’s “All Around You” and rhymed it.
Metamorphosis Process
6 November 2011
When I die, fold me naked, brother,
Into the dark flesh of the earth pile;
No coffin fortress against my mother,
No formaldehyde lip stitching denial 
Of the soft machinery of life’s assault.
Let the gentle sex of the probing root
Trail downward along the white vault
Of my cathedral bones’ strong suit.
Let the holy orgy of the earthy sod
Fill my domed skull with the resurrected
Gentle loving of the worldly clod.
Then each year fold me unprotected
Back into the warm flesh of creation
And I will become the loving planet.
I will spread my spirit on the wind’s reverberation.
I will have eyes of green rose granite.
I will have blood in the splashing sea tides
I will have a consciousness of grass,
And I will have arms under all the hillsides.
Arms vast enough at last, landmass
To hold all my children by the platoon.
From my warm bed I will be the sun's lover
And a magical brother to the moon.
I will trail sidelong and downstream cover
And I will be in the food you consume
Alive in all the fruits that abound,
Awake in the fall of each cherry bloom.
Once dead and in the solid ground, 
Now immaculately starting to leach
I will be there when you’re going
To burst the veiny flesh of a peach.
I will be all around you silently knowing,
This is my body bursting for your sip.
Take, eat and pass me with cants
From hand to hand and lip to perfect lip.
Let my name dissolve with my substance 
But when you drink the blood stew
And eat the smooth flesh of plants,
I will be alive, awake and all around you.

04 November 2011

Gratitude for Latitude

My friend James Kent publishes an online newsletter for his family & friends. It's called Ohana News. Each year he asks for contributions for his Thanksgiving Issue.

Gratitude for Latitude
4 November 2011
This year I’m grateful to get a pension
Meaning no alarm clock (That I savor.)
Which greatly reduces my tension
And contributes to each day’s flavor.
I’m glad of the serendipitous discovery
That chocolate, blueberries and walnuts
Improved my short-term memory
And boosted my brain out of its ruts.
I’m thankful to be in San Diego County
For the weather, Balboa Park, beach,
And mountains; meaning so much bounty.
I appreciate having friends within reach,
To socialize with gay men who
Think along the same lines as me,
Enjoy the same activities as I do
And add to my felicity.

02 November 2011

Latecomer Summer

Latecomer Summer
2 November 2011
The weather was just too nice
To write poetry and stay indoors
So I thought about it twice
And played hookey by going outdoors.
I called my friend, Billy Bob
To see if he wanted to go to the park.
It was his day off from his job.
We went to the local landmark
And saw koi fish in the reflecting pool,
Grounds with flowers ad nauseam,
Avoided a student class from school
And took in the Timkin art museum.
While crossing back over the bridge
I spied an artist with his tripod
Painting, standing out on a ridge,
So I trotted over to his sod.
It was truly an afternoon 
Filled with beauty and art.
It seemed to end too soon
When it was time to depart.

31 October 2011

Incantation Vibration

Incantation Vibration
29 October 2011
Hello handsome, the hand motion beckoned.
The glint in his eye indicated his thought.
He was much friendlier than I reckoned,
Much closer intimacy was sought.
Exchanging energies thru word and touch,
Sending signals of whispered encouragement,
Hoping the stimulation wasn’t too much,
Implying consent by humming contentment,
Raising energies by stroking the magic wand,
Stirring the sex cauldron ‘round and ‘round,
Creating a strong man-to-man bond
Letting a complex connection be found.
Touching skin to skin, from hip to lip
Looking into his eyes and seeing his soul,
Nipple stimulation was part of the trip
To the magical moment of orgasm whole.
Then lingering and surrendering to the feeling
That is uplifting and spiritually satisfying
Holding each other gently for healing.
This shrine’s ministration is sanctifying.

29 October 2011

Baby’s ABC’s

Inspired by my nephew's baby, Monson.

Baby’s ABC’s
28 October 2011
A is for applesauce that’s easy to eat.
B is for beans which for Monson’s a treat.
C is for car which he’ll drive before he’s thirty.
D is for diaper that gets changed when it’s dirty.
E is for ear to hear everything.
F is for fork to give food a fling.
G is for grandmas of which he has two
H is for house with a roof and windows, too.
I is for ice that comes out of the fridge.
J is for joke to release tension a smidge.
K is for key to unlock the house’s front door.
L is for love that can’t be bought at the store.
M is for Mommy, center of and my life’s anchor.
N is for nurse, her job, for which we thank her.
O is for oven where she does her baking.
P is for potato fries that she likes making.
Q is for quilts to snuggle under.
R is for roses that fill us with wonder.
S is for shoes, easiest to lose of all clothes.
T is for toes that Monson uses to pick his nose.
U is for umbrella to keep dry in the rain.
V is for video to watch and entertain.
W is for work where Daddy has spoken.
X is for x-rays when bones are broken.
Y is for yogurt which when frozen, you lick.
Z is for zipper to change clothes real quick.

28 October 2011

News Snooze

Here's another non-sensical poem.

News Snooze
28 October 2011
He was a sort of ripsnorter
Stationed at police headquarters
An on-the-spot, at-the-scenes,
Real-deal TV news reporter
Disclosing athletic supporters
Are lost in washing machines.

26 October 2011

Wedding Redding

Every day I try to devote a couple of hours to poetry. My latest efforts have been going thru my rhyming dictionaries (yes, Virginia, there are books with lists of words that rhyme) and finding words that either have no rhyme or have limited rhymes with only one or two other words. I understand that English has over a million words in it. It's like English never met a word it didn't like. In spite of that some common words don't have rhymes: angst, budget, emblem, orange, silver. In any endeavor it helps to know the possibilities and limitations. This is a just-for-fun poem.

Wedding Redding
26 October 2011
In a marriage, who wears the pants?
What makes life more glorious?
According to my maiden aunts
The husband needs to be uxorious.
They only listen to their sycophants
For which they’re notorious.

24 October 2011

Hard-Won Dry Run

When I went to the Affirmation conference for gay and lesbian Mormons in September, one of the speakers was Joanna Brooks at the Kirtland Temple. Yesterday as I was driving home from dinner at my nephew's, I was surprised to hear her being interviewed on NPR. Today there was a new post from her blog. Someone had written in asking about going back to church after a period of inactivity. This poem is a response to her blog.

Hard-Won Dry Run
24 October 2011
Here’s a plan for your first time going back.
Pick a chapel where two or three wards meet.
This maximizes chaos and minimizes flack.
You simply go into the foyer and have a seat.
There you can watch the toddlers running,
The Primary girls sharing stories and gossip,
The young men bettering each other’s cunning
And parents doing their best to worship.
When you’ve had enough, as you please
Get up and leave. No harm, no foul.
Most chapels are built with entries
On both sides in the back. When you prowl, 
And people are filing in, you join the tide 
To collect a program. Then continue 
Across the chapel and out the other side.
The flyer will have information about the who
And what of ward events. You now know
About potlucks and campouts, activities
That let you mingle on your status quo
Without violating your own proclivities.
This poem was made by a guy
Who hasn’t attended in years,
Is once-burned, twice-shy
And understands your fears.

22 October 2011


In an earlier post, I commented that each day has its own flavor. Today's flavor is walnut. To clear space in the freezer I took out some walnuts that had been in there for a couple of years. The walnuts came from a tree in my twin's backyard. When he first moved into that house, we could leapfrog over a broken branch in the grass. Now it's a tree twice as tall as the house and drops walnuts each autumn. Anyway, a couple of years ago I harvested some walnuts. The walnuts with hulls I just put in the garage. The walnuts without hulls I put in the freezer. Yes, Virginia, walnuts have hulls and shells. They're doubly protected. When I got around to them, the nuts in the garage had withered and were worthless. The nuts in the freezer were still good when I shelled them today. Today's imponderable: "If the walnuts have never been cracked open, how does the mold get inside?"
Today I also posted a video on YouTube talking about walnuts and brain function: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_huqszlUlzs

21 October 2011

Published Online

One of my poems got published online: http://bestnewpoems.com/whos-values/#.TqECqBzthZc

20 October 2011

Three Events

Just before I fall asleep, I review what I want to do the next day, what I think my schedule will be. Some time ago I realized that each day has it's own flavor. Today proved that the future is unpredictable.
Early on men came with machines and jackhammered out the sidewalk half-way across my driveway. The backstory is a previous owner (I've been in this house for six years) planted a ficus tree in the parkway. That's what the city calls the space between the sidewalk and the gutter. Anyway, the ficus tree was starting to raise the concrete of the sidewalk creating a tripping hazard. Also it was big enough to block a speed limit sign creating a traffic hazard. And it was growing into the power line creating an electrical hazard. A couple of months ago, I went out one day and the tree was gone; cut down by the city. They spray painted colored arrows on the sidewalk. Bruce put a notice on the fridge yesterday so I had parked on the cul-de-sac side of the house and was able to get out and about. 
Bruce collects Pulsar watches. The were the first digital watches sold to the public. As with any product, some breakdown and don't work any more. Bruce had been exchanging emails with a guy from Germany about the electronic modules inside the watches. Today that dude from Germany came by the house with his girlfriend. They were here for quite a while and wanting to be hospitable, I went out and picked up rolled tacos for lunch. Bruce trotted out the best watches of his collection including one with Florentine engraving and the "crown jewels" by Grima.
The third surprise of the day was the arrival of my book order. I now have copies of both of my poetry books. If anyone one wants an autographed copy, just send me $12. They're also available online: Uncle Al's Rhymes for Our Times and Uncle Al's Perverse, Gay and Kink Verse.

18 October 2011

New Doctor

The doctor I had been seeing in Point Loma told me that he was being transfered. I don't care for the nurse in that office. For me she comes across as loud and pushy. In July I had boil on the bottom of my foot and went to Urgent Care on Vandever. The doctor I saw there was gay but didn't have much personality. Today I went thinking that if the new doctor had the usual bedside manner, I would just as soon see the gay doctor with the closer office. The nurse took my vital signs then ushered me into the exam room. When she spoke about the new doctor, she smiled, really big. Finally the new doctor came in and immediately I could tell she had something they don't teach in medical school, a personality. So instead of using Donald Trump's line, "You're fired," I got to say, "You're a keeper."

17 October 2011

Sweat, Blood and Testosterone

Yesterday Bruce and I rented a U-Haul truck to move Terry's stuff from storage in LA to storage in San Diego. The backstory is Terry an artery to his stomach rupture back in May and went to the emergency room. Half of his stomach died for lack of nutrition so it was removed. But gangrene had set in and the toxins from the gangrene disrupted the functioning of his kidneys and liver. Finally Terry died the first week of September.
While Terry was in the hospital, Bruce collected money from Terry's friends to pay the rent. But you can't keep that up very long so we moved Terry's things into storage. Paying for a storage unit was cheaper than paying rent.
Of course moving furniture and boxes is a quick way to work up a sweat. There were a couple of hunky guys helping a woman move her china closet. Maybe my next poem will be about sweat, blood and testosterone. The wheel on the dolly broke, the china closet tipped and broke the glass. One of the hunks cut his hand on the glass. Bruce said, "If they had spent as much money on their educations as they spent on their tattoos, they would have MBAs."

16 October 2011

Self-Improvement Epiphany

Yesterday morning I talked with my life coach, Pamela Madsen. We talked about blogging and like topics. That evening I did a guided meditation asking "Who or what am I?" As I was eating dinner my subconscious surfaced with the idea that if I became really successful as a poet, I would become one of THEM. That stuck me as odd, considering that I've been an out gay man into BDSM for several years. Us and THOSE PEOPLE were initially undefined. As I thought about it, I realized my subconscious didn't want me to become one of the tabloid celebrities.  I  reminded my subconscious that I don't drink or do drugs. I also told the subconscious that although I had seen compromising photos of myself from Dore Alley, it had not impacted my career. I'm a long shot from having the paparazzi chase after me.
Previously, I has gotten a set of DVDs about making money on the internet. I had followed the first couple of steps then stopped. I think my subconscious had undermined my determination and efforts to make money. Have you ever had a similar experience?

14 October 2011

Who’s Values?

Who’s Values?
14 Sept 2011
The bottoms of my feet are wet
From gaps between the planks
And I have no safety net
Midway between the banks.
The risk makes me shiver,
Uncertainty bites my heals,
I’m floating down life’s river
On a raft of my own ideals.
From being headstrong
To the point of scrappiness,
I hope to find my own song
And foresee some happiness.