corncobconfessions

have found it quite interesting that those folks not prone towards gossip usually end up food for gossip; let the feast begin. home to 25 million people, Shanghai is, without argument, largest city on planet Earth. and, in same tone, most interesting. not to just poke and run, but poking for some has become such darn good fun just to poke and run with thumb stuck up a bun some days, feel this need to think. and on those days, usually nap until that need-to-think feeling fades into oblivion.  thorough and methodical in all things worthy. errors are for those careless and hellbent. careless is for those with reckless intend. and life moves on while world moves forward. passing through state of confusion, met a wolf, a huff and six incidents on way to ruff up six days shining with week of nights hiding. all this happens without use of hard drink or false hope on a string.  wheels just keep turning, don'

to compromise, or not  to compromise. to promise, or not  to promise. never get ahead or behind premise of surprise. backing into the fray, no sane game to play. to do little to nothing, nothing ever gets done; not ever achieved.  voice think with sleep sleep thick with dreams strawberries thick with cream sweet dreams thick with sweetness makes for dreamy tomorrows a little patch here, a little paint there; well now, this old place may very well be salvageable. then again, time will tell; and time does just that, time after time after time. timeless in one's revelry.  so afraid of disapproval, we commit great sins just to stay in good standings with those with no standings. what hypocrites' we are.  one should not venture far beyond one's own comfort zone; escaping possible dead zone where old poets go shoveling hot snow, and blowing hot and cold. just let me say: it's

humans need motivation. without motivation, humans stagnate. stagnation breeds madness. madness: burning, burning bright. what magnificence! sunrise! sunset! eloquence of such loveliness. ride high in spirit of the mind. then there are those folks either unable to read a map, or unwilling to read a map. no, much to simple, when something so simple can be turned into something so confusing and absolutely frustrating. maps show one road leading from point A to point B. following road makes it almost impossible getting lost. now, these folks use step by step, computerized directions and become hopelessly lost. it is at times like these, find it quite refreshing having a  good loud scream! look at a freaking map, people? cannot get any easier than that. okay, then, have had that scream. feeling much better.  retreating into one's self and finding comfort there is, indeed, greatest of all comfor

there are no accidents; only superficial incidents designed to look like accidents. don't ask how I know this; have been sworn to secrecy  by those in the know. piecing together fragmented thoughts long past days lost in a haze weeks, months, years lost seems as though entire lifetime languishing away in the past if he had known the roof would fall in, he would, then, not been under the roof when said roof did, indeed, fall in. then comes the question: what did she have to do with, if anything, said roof falling in? a petite little thing like  her, surely she had no infulence on roof falling in on him. he just went off deep end, and, gosh, he liked it there. he though: quite refreshing here. would have stayed there, but she pulled him out.  she, by no means, was not  done with him yet. no, sir, his punishment just starting. when his punishment complete, she'll take him back and throw him in that fabu

everything cosmic, weird and awesome, all mashed together in some fantastic ride though contentious mind warp. vanquish any thoughts ever surviving this ride.  squeal, just once, and world marks us down as squealers for rest of our natural lives, and any possible future lives. take a ride on crazy twirl.  if one cannot be positive, one should, at least be practical about being positive.  with an edge toward punctual. imagine this: thousand fireflies flying high lighting ways for old poets finding new inspiration.  have always had a knack for napping. doesn't make me lovable, doesn't make me likable, but sure as hell makes me happy, so a napping I will go.  ho, ho, ho.... it is wonderful; and then not so much so. but that's just life, is it not? wonderful can, and often is, a royal pain in one's rectal area, a pain hard to let go. 

a stolid silence. horrific turn of events, since silence requires vengeance, and vengeance and misery, team players in certain upcoming attractions not recommended for youngsters on the vine with parents out running wild. discipline, discipline, discipline. and without discipline, we face a very likely possibility  anarchy will run wild. and our liberties will fade into oblivion.  what will history say of us? of this generation? of this century? ignoring the obvious; obvious does not like being ignored, and will happily bite us the rear just to let us know: not smart ignoring the obvious, obviously.  can destiny be stopped? just what is destiny? a fabrication of lost and found, maybe. symbolism lost, then found, maybe. and then, enter in fate for a circus of profound reasoning as destiny circles around for another shot at life favoritism. the following poem is invisible. reason for this

some of us gotta write the crap; paint over it, making it somewhat presentable for the greater good. everything looks better with good coat of new exotic paint. will paint myself tomorrow; go out in public and impress folks. now, to choose an impressive color. there was a time accolades  were eagerly sought after. now, accolades cost more than and good accolade was ever worth. becoming completely unhinged for no apparent reason other than try something new. a bit perplexing, yes, and precautionary measures required; not to become forever lost, never able to return to a  somewhat sane, normal world in otherwise crazy scheme of things. Brad Meltzer-The Fifth Assassin in one's so called "golden years," so little remains to amuse one's self. and boredom is not a friend, and easily becomes a killjoy. one's usefulness has waned.  feelings of ineptness, incompleteness. many su