The Pitch

It came as quite a shock
The day the music ceased to amplify

Radio turned to static
Streams all ran dry

Nature went on mute
Society missed the notes

Instruments untouched
Lyricist without anecdotes

Record players without needles
Cassettes all unwound

Walking through a wasteland
A world without sound

The silence is deafening
Quiet layed bare

No more distractions
When trapped in a soundproof lair

Reset the frequency
Fine tune the pitch

Scale back the noise
Allow harmony to exist

Image from-creepypasta wiki

The Now Know Row

I talk a lot of nonsense.

Sometimes I try to pass it off as fact.

How do I know that they know?

Yeah…thats the look.

Even Stella knows when I’m full of crap….

Eventually, I will learn how to pass off what I think I know to those whose dont think I know and then we will all know that I’m in the know….

Ya know?

What a strange word….

The Vault

Sifting through the memory bank
Of what was to what is

Deposits and withdrawals
Of what is left to take, nothing left to give

Overdrafts on promises
Checks bounce like an alibi

Looking back through statements
The teller handles the verify

Savings and expenses
Dollars and sense

Swimming with a lone
To not drown in mental debt

The Teething Ring

My siblings and I are at the age where we all have to keep tabs on our Mother.

She is over 80 now.

She lives with my younger brother in Colorado.

I live in Texas.

I have another brother in another part of our expansive state.

I have a brother in Vermont.

Lastly, I have a sister in the Big Apple of NYC.

Big family.. all spread out.

Yesterday, I received a text from my sister-

“Have you talked to Mom lately?”

“Yeah, I talked to her a couple of days ago… Why?”

“Shes kind of slurring her words and having a hard time with sentences…”

“Ok, I’ll check on her when I get off work.”

“Thank you. I’m just worried shes old you know.”

“Yeah, I got it.”


I get off work and call my Mom-

Me- hey Mom, just checkin in what’s going on?

Her- nothing just hanging out with your brothers daughters making cookies having a good time…

Me- your daughter called me and said you were having problems talking last time she talked to you. Is everything ok?

Her- Huh? I just talked to her this morning about going up to see her and to get arrangements set for flights and all. I was half awake when she called and didnt have my teeth in yet.

Me- You…didnt…have..your…teeth…in…
Ok. Shes a moron.

Family…sometimes I just cant sink my teeth into why they cant get all the information before jumping to conclusions.


The Show Me State

The road of good intentions is riddled with alleys and byways that lead to distractions.

I’m a show me dont tell me kind of person.

I’m also a pessimist.

My wife told me last friday she was going to start drinking alcohol again.

She showed me.

For the last week she has drank progressively more each day and started earlier each day.

Last night as I was 3/4 asleep she told me-

“I’m going to finish this bottle of wine and then I’m done drinking”

Show me….dont tell me.

Why the sudden change?

Not sure.

Could be the aid of friends talking with her about it…

Could be she probably wont have a job after today…

Could be the fact that I got angry with her.

Why did I get angry?

Thursdays we have the opportunity to spend a few hours with our grandkids.

My son drives into town, picks them up and brings them over.

When I got home from work, I asked if they were coming over.

She said slurringly that they were on the way.

She was drunk.

I told her to go to the bedroom and lock the door. I didnt want the grandkids to see her like that.

I then called my son. He declined to bring them to the house.

I’m proud of him.

My wife said she didn’t plan on getting drunk…..

She showed me that 2 1/2 bottles of wine between 1 and 5 will in fact ensure that she was drunk.

She also showed me that getting drunk was more important than spending time with her son and grandkids.

Show me dont tell me that I’m 2rong in my assessment.

We will see what happens.

The Cycle

The daylight releases its gentle hold
Into the waiting  arms of darkness

The warmth of the rays slowly choked out
By the grip of dusk dragged into emptiness

The flowers hold their breath
Leaves stop in vein

Pedals lose their color
Trees embarking in bane

Creatures of night awaken
To stalk their unaware prey

Howls in the distance
The pack having their say

The wind scurries through valleys
The rivers run without sight

The temperature drops, the darkest dark
Happens just before light

Sweat on the foliage
Sunrise peaks through

Another cycle of time
Brings hope anew

The Hate To Go Back

My life’s ever changing.

With that occurring I am having to change along with it.

My wife has starting drinking again.

I have not.

I am not used to being around alcohol anymore. I am having to get used to it.

To prevent myself from the possibility of ditching sobriety I have made a decision to go back to recovery meetings.

I dont want to go back.


I need to.

I hate to go back for all the reasons I left years ago….

The main one being it’s a God based program.

I’m not a believer in gods.


I need to.

I know the program works.

I need to remain sober.

My needs outweigh my wants.

Like I always tell myself-

“Either roll with the changes in life….or get rolled over by them.”

Cant post a picture…shhhhh they’re anonymous