He said he lost her in an ion storm
hard-hit on the portside in a Ceres high-orbit
a sudden flash and she vanished forever.
lost in space, out in the black, no one can hear you scream.
He said he lost her in a poker game
to a blue haired Antarean girl with a treacherous smile
a beautiful pirate queen who stole his heart
once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away.
He said: all we know is this: she’s gone.
she left us with nothing but stories of past glories
tales that fill the infinite expanses
in them, we chase the stars. We live on the edge of forever.
(c) T.L. Ryder
I am from that indigo moment before dawn
Boiled up from 2 parts sulfurous water
One part shining, frozen snow, and
a dash of good whiskey thrown in for flavor.
I am from the edge of the reservation,
From the side of the cliff that we didn’t fall down—much,
From the back corner of the library, where we
Read the books your mom wouldn’t let us take home.
I am from red-skinned people with black hair,
From white-skinned people with red hair,
From people who came here for a better life, and
People whose way of life was taken from them.
I am from Star Trek, Star Wars and Dune,
The Force be with You!
From the pleading of rosary beads at bedside,
From the glory of Father Sun bringing life to the world.
I am from flat bread, fry bread and sheep tail fat,
Boiled cabbage with bacon, greasy lima beans,
Sage cut from a bush in the prairie, fresh pronghorn stew,
Hamburger Helper and Tab.
(found this old thing from 2010 and decided to re-post it)
THEY say “Home is where the heart is.”
I have left a piece of heart behind
blue asbestos siding
THEY say “You can’t go home again.”
I drive by and find shards of memory
the blue is gone
new bay window
I say “Home sweet home.”
The ghost of once upon a time lives on
And yet. . .
Easter, about 1968. The picture window is gone but the house still stands.
The music is gone
There is beauty in silence
My empty heart sleeps
I wore out my welcome before I was born;
I will never play Kate to your Petruccio.
Adversity has been my most constant friend
You cannot teach things that I already know.
James Ward, A Farmhand Riding Side-saddle, Carrying an Urn.
Disapprove of me all you please;
Censure has always been my lot.
All those things you’d prefer not to remember
Are things for me too dear to be forgot.
Your outcasts do not always wither away;
Sometimes they flourish in alien soil.
And sometimes the ones you sought to destroy
Are the very ones you cannot despoil.
Dr. Phoebe says:
I have been thinking about something. You guys are awesome. Yes you–each one of you fellow bloggers–are AWESOME. I read your blogs and am constantly blown away by everyone’s life story… your writing… your adventures… your photography. So…I would like to try something to encourage even more connections…with me and with each other… 🌺 I want you to promote yourself! 🌺 And here’s how: ♥ Leave a few words about your blog (or anything else you want to share) ♥ Leave a link ♥ Share or re-blog this post if you think others will be interested. ♥ Take a moment to check out and support each other. ♥ Come back as often as you like this weekend. Feel free to leave your links multiple times.
via 💙 Meet & Greet: A Puppydoc Party! 💙 — Musings of PuppyDoc
“The orphan is one of those rare creatures that belongs only to herself. . .”
Source: Our Obsession with Orphans: A Short History from Jane Eyre to Annie