Please
explain to me…
Why is
Sarah Palin giving interviews while fishing on a Tuesday? Isn’t she supposed to
be working? Her resignation has not gone through yet, she’s still the governor.
My goodness.
TP
Exploring the Intriguing
Author: whodeanny
Please
explain to me…
Why is
Sarah Palin giving interviews while fishing on a Tuesday? Isn’t she supposed to
be working? Her resignation has not gone through yet, she’s still the governor.
My goodness.
TP
This is one of the poems about which I've received the highest compliments. I think
many of us can relate to it in our own unique contexts.
I walked from the kitchen
Slowly stopped and turned around
The gentle bubble of pots on the stove
Sounded warm and beautiful
Inviting, so I went back in
Watching the lid dance over my soup
I noticed the dry, hot smell
Of cumin drowning in the sweet
Black juice of the beans
I felt the smile on my face
And wondered how many times
My granddad stood smiling in his kitchen
With the cornbread beginning to brown
© Gayle Force Press 2003
Driving on the highway into Etobicoke
Hoping to find somewhere to get off
Finally the sign for Queens Land
© Gayle
Force Press 2003
Is it still in me
This pattern of love and sharing
That seems so distant
Those long days
And endless nights
Of comfort
Sometimes even consolation
I’ve probably burned the bridges
And some fine part of my own damned soul
Right alongside them
Leaving me on this barren plain
With only the dimming light
Of memory
Left here to remind me
© Gayle
Force Press 2002
I am excited to see this poem in Myths.
I saw you down the aisle
A row behind me and just
Past the middle of it
I noticed you because the two of you
Were leaned really far forward
So I think you saw me first
I’m pretty sure I hit someone
Or something with my elbow
Because when I noticed my arm later
It was puffy and sore
But all I could think about
Was finding you again
So when I left my seat
And grabbed you from yours
I didn’t care that intermission was nearly over
Or that your date,
Oh no, your husband!
Was waiting for you
All I knew was that I was
Suddenly desperate
And had to talk to you again
I don’t remember now
How we got to the street
Everything’s a blur
Until we reached the sunlight
And I could see up close
And feel with my own sweaty fingers
The face I’ve always loved
I cried so hard you tried to silence me
Though I wasn’t sad
Well, not only sad,
Also ecstatic and relieved
And your face!
Your face was still so welcoming
I couldn’t believe it
Then we talked and you told me of your life
And the gracious work you do
I had to ask because I didn’t know it
But what is your new last name
I suppose the joke behind it
Didn’t strike me as funny
No matter though
I just loved to see you laugh once more
But then your laugh became a song
And your voice was not your own
Instead I heard Roberta Flack singing
“Where is the Love?”
While you smiled and turned away
Setting out to silence the song
I’ll never enjoy again
I realized that turning around would be the admission
That I was now awake
With you again absent from me
And while I know I shouldn’t admit it to the world
At that grasping moment,
Just like now,
I couldn’t stop crying
© Gayle Force Press 2008
Mestizo mulatto hyphenated hybrid
Mixed up creole cultural mélange of meaning
As who we are and what we used to be pale
next to tomorrow’s endless postmodern possibilities of
Perpetual people driven progress
All the ‘I’s and ‘US’s can become ‘They’s and ‘We’s sooner
than YouTube presents the next
Macaca spewing hate monger would be divider
Who unites us in disdain
For his antiquated rhetoric of race,
Religion and righteousness
The 3 Rs that used to keep the South backwards,
Black folks scared and the rarely compassionate
conservatives
entrenched in their oh so corrupting power
The beauty of the remix
And the America it is frenetically remaking
Is that all the little boxes
Will mean the very same thing in the end
More empty spaces we can fill
Exactly as we choose
© Gayle
Force Press 2008
June 15, 2009
Raw Meat
Baby oil boys club? Instant winner.
I had not guessed Trump as the RAW
buyer. Good stuff.
The World title match is the one I
really wanted to pay attention to this week. They twice teased the Tower of
Doom spot. Super fun. This match was really innovative in terms of using clever
3 way spots. I particularly enjoyed seeing Edge’s Sharpshooter being disrupted
by a sleeper; it was great of JR to fix Grisham’s error as the difference
between a chinlock and a sleeper is vast.
That being said, JR confused me later.
Since when are Triple Threat matches no DQ or countout affairs? And Jeff Hardy
was trying to become World champion for the first time. Huh? What on Earth was
he talking about?
Generally though, JR has been in great
form the last couple weeks, particularly doing a great job of explaining Punk’s
motivation without seeming like an apologist. Grisham and JR are fighting over
small package vs. inside cradle. Not so cute. Funny but not so cute.
So in the last 10 days, CM Punk has
defeated Umaga, Umaga again in a strap match, won the World title over
Jeff Hardy, defeated IC champ Chris Jericho and now Edge, all clean! What an
incredible difference between this title reign and his first… BTW, Punk’s tape
spelled out MISAWA super classy.
Priceless hasn’t seemed to stick as a
team name for Rhodes and DiBiase so I think More Better should be the new name. The
only folks who’ve said ‘Great American Bash’ are More Better. How odd? Didn’t
someone give them direction on what to say? They were pretty awful but wow, not
to even get the memos. Ish.
Did Vince McMahon refer to someone
else as a pervert?
Both the WWE title and Battle Royale
matches were surprisingly short. Between that and the utter predictability of
RAW’s main event picture, is it any wonder so many folks are turning to
Smackdown instead?
TP
It seems bizarre to me that I had not noticed before but in watching Kurt Angle before his Summer Slam title match with Triple H and The Rock, his voice sounds way higher than it is now. I don't remember the transition or an injury that might have caused this but it seems different enough to almost be an entirely different person's voice. Peculiar.