Category Archives: humor

Levels of Intricacy

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There are three kinds in this world…

First, there are those who live simple, calm lives. They dress in subdued shades, can often be found in repose under shady trees, and if you listen carefully, you can hear them softly chanting peaceful mantras as they sway in the gentle spring breeze.

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Then, there are those who are more flamboyant, more vibrant. Their lives are more complex and convoluted, but they like it that way. They like the limelight… er, sunlight, and while they remain — for the most part — rooted in reality, you will often find them just bobbing their heads in rhythm to a tune only they can hear.

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And lastly, there are those “unique” characters who…

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well… you know who I’m talking about.

 

Which kind are you?

Weekly Photo Challenge: Intricate

Pink

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“Is he part Shar-Pei?” she asks. She hands my latte out the drive-through window. “All those wrinkles!”

Bella glares from the passenger seat, indignant at being mistaken for a male, let alone a Shar-Pei. Look at the pink collar, for Chrissake!

“No, she’s just a worrier, so her forehead wrinkles. Part boxer, part lab.” Part opportunist, waiting for me to set my drink in the cup holder between us.

A pink collar doesn’t necessarily indicate gender, I tell Bella as we drive away.

I know of a male dog named Pink. He’s black. He wears a pink collar. His owner, holding onto Pink’s pink leash, spoke of a prior pet dying of cancer. This is his tribute to the deceased pet. Pink doesn’t seem to care what color his collar and leash are. He’s comfortable in his masculinity. And he’s not a worrier like Bella.

I’m not going to worry either, I decide. I don’t want to get worry wrinkles on my forehead, lest someone mistakes me for a Shar-Pei and tries to collar me.

Bella is skeptical that that would ever happen. Her wrinkles unfold a bit as she stretches to lick the foam off the lid to my latte. You should worry, though, she tells me. After all, you think you’re conversing with a dog.

And next time? Ask for non-fat. My collar is getting a bit tight and I need to watch my figure.

Shar-Pei indeed!

Pink

Idle Reward

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I did not work to sow the seed,
or plant the plant or weed the weed.
I did not cause the rain to fall,
the sun to shine, the breeze to breeze.

And yet there wasn’t any need
for me to do such wondrous deeds
to bring about this paradise,
of brilliant blooms and lavish leaves.

Does it seem fair that I should be
the recipient of such majesty?
I let nature take its course, and
my reward grew exponentially.

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Reward

Forever Love

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Assignment #8. Prompt: drawer. Form: ode. Device: apostrophe.

I am cheered to see you again, though it was unexpected.
I had thought the drawer to be empty, 
opening it simply on a whim. 
Recklessly abandoned inside this dark coffin, 
you nonetheless thrived, 
gaining esteem despite my neglect.

Bold colors contrast with your diminutive size. 
A seeming contradiction between flamboyant style
and menial purpose.
I am not swayed by either extreme.
My attraction is not based on appearances, 
and I recognize that your inconsequential demeanor 
belies your true power.

More contradictions:
You await my direction, to do my bidding,
and yet it is you who holds sway
over my very basic capacity to communicate.
And though I value you, I must send you away.
Your potential cannot be realized 
while stuffed in a drawer.

So I'm letting you go with one selfish request:
Please do not return to me,
my “forever” postage stamp.

drawer

Breaking Glass with your Fingers

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Assignment #7. Prompt: Fingers. Form: Prose Poetry. Device: assonance.

It feels very powerful, breaking glass with your fingers. Of course you score it first, carving a crisp, clean line across the otherwise scratchless surface. The carbide steel cutter makes a sound like paper ripping, or a zipper zipping.

Is that cheating, to score the glass first? I mean, it’s not like breaking a board with your hand, where you don’t really care how the board breaks, as long as it doesn’t break your hand. It’s more refined, more defined, more aligned. You control the break, with your fingers. It feels very powerful, breaking glass with your fingers.

I did break a board with my hand once. Good thing my hand wasn’t made of glass. But I digress.

I learned that glass is a liquid, and so you have to make the break quickly, before the score line fills back in. How cool is that? You’re scoring glass, and it’s like parting the Red Sea. But you don’t get wet. I wonder if Moses got wet when he parted the Red Sea. I wonder if Moses could break boards with his hand. Probably. But I digress.

It’s not really a liquid, though. Glass, that is. I believe the Red Sea actually is. Liquid, that is. That’s why you can wash a window without it washing away. And you can break glass with your fingers without breaking your fingers. You might get a cut though, which would never happen if glass were a liquid. Although that could explain the red of the Red Sea. I wonder if Moses cut his finger while parting the Red Sea. Probably not.

It probably felt very powerful, parting the Red Sea. Just like it feels to break glass with your fingers.

fingers