E.C. Walsh Blogsphere

I have some written notebook poems/commentary but frankly can’t remember for now if I have already posted them online. Sometimes I go on my outdoor porch, sit down and observe the sky, the landscape. and bird flocks. Other times I think of silly things. So just one new joke/poem today.

“Burp” by yours truly

Judge: “Sir Burpalot, you have been emitting a lot of loud and smelly burps from your mouth in public. Restaurant and store owners consider it a crime, trespassing, and really you should be tortured and do time.”
Criminal: “Your Honor. I apologize for telling police lies about the gas that passes from my mouth.”
Judge: “Next up, Sir Fartalot…

A few poems and two comments

“Reaching” by yours truly

Reaching out
(Over-reaching?)
Leave no doubt.
“I went too far,” –Aurora
“What’s this all about?”
Reaching.

“Scratches” by yours truly

Scars on my desk,
Things I confessed.
Only small scratches on wood.
We all have them
On our bodies too.
And in a way it helps me write
All night, alL night.
Flashlight.

“Nails” by yours truly

Pulling you off with my fingernails.
You know what it entails.
Hold onto the handrails
As you climb the stairs.
My stares. Meant just gazes, but they can lead to crazes.
I still love you.

Two comments

I don’t mind paying some money to publish. I am not Stephen King. Ha ha. But the annoying thing when you self-publish is you have to deal with so many companies: a publisher, a marketer, a website host, and some others.

I have said before I do not really remember Mass sermons well, even if they are good. This one seemed to be about Doubting Thomas again. What it is the difference between doubt and belief?

A poem

“Why did You Tear My Pants Off Again?” by yours truly

You have torn my pants off again.
It is quite rude and could make me nude.
Let’s not get crude.
Oh, lets not have a feud
Or be rude.

On the British inauguration and two bitter poems

A comment

I have watched a few minutes about Charles !!!’s inauguration. The crowns he and his wife wore looked a bit silly to me as an American. But a critic wrote once that Americans subconsciously want royalty, whether it was the Kennedys or even maybe now the Trumps.

“Anger Part Two” by yours truly

I have a can of some, whoop, whoop, whoop.
Do you want any?
Yes, I am angry.
Why do you think so?

“Ann Hedonia” by yours truly

Ann Hedonia was her name.
Anhedonia, a result of acute withdrawal.
Nothing pleases without the drug.
I will call ya, Ann Hedonia,
But I know I don’t own ya, Ann Hedonia.

Two poems

“Greybeard” by yours truly

At the tender age of 52,
I now have a full facial beard.
It is almost all grey
Except the moustache.
There is a lasche.
So I am now a “greybeard”:
Literally and hopefully figuratively.

“Coughing” by yours truly

Coughing and crying.
There is no denying,
But keep trying
And on truth relying.
Try Morrissey, not Pleurisy.

Note: Usually I prefer to write about personal stuff like art or romance, but sometimes I am tempted to write about public things like Afghanistan, Iraq, or Ukraine or US police brutality.

A poem

“Inhumane” by yours truly

“Being beaten, put in tight handcuffs, and left in a holding cell with no bed for days on end is inhumane. If you were telling jokes some in the public did not like.”
Bartender: “What if someone has raped a six-year-old?”
“I hate to say it, but it is still inhumane to treat people that way. The jail guard said just lie on the stone and sleep. Yeah, easy for you to say.”
Bartender: “Poor boy.”

Deadlines and a song

I have trouble with numbers and deadlines. I thought I was paying the rent on time, but the landlord said I was two days late. She still seemed to accept payment.

I may have said this on this blog before, but one of my favorite U2 songs is “Sometimes You Can’t Make it on Your Own” that you can find on YouTube. I said to a social media contact that I like it because it deals with son-father conflict.

Nothing much to say today

Had to deal with some finances today, and it kind of blocked creativity/productivity. I have also have had a bad fight with Facebook where they have blocked me from posting on my personal account, I think for telling rude jokes.

My older brother gave me the idea of sending shorter writings to magazines for publication as brief inserts. I have a pretty big stock of brief poems and jokes from this blog and social media. My brother is intuitive; I am more nerdy.

Two jokes and some poems

“How Soon is Now?” by The Smiths. Answer: about a nanosecond.

“Sorry, I am afraid we have to fire you. We shall use kerosene or gasoline and then a match, and it may hurt.”

“Still” by yours truly

Still Sunday, day of rest
At the behest of…
But it can cause unrest
When you think of the week,
What is left.
Don’t be weak or meek.

“Meditate” by yours truly

The lamps in my study are blown out now.
And the batteries in my flashlight
Have gone dead.
These days they only want to sell ones too small.
But the darkness helps you meditate.
Don’t obliterate, just concentrate.
.
And there is some electric light outside the study door.
Use the dark to meditate.

“Like” by yours truly

“The trauma is
I thought people liked me,
And they did not.”
“No, the tragedy is
You did not like yourself.”

Some comments and brief poems
(I will save the poems for tomorrow on second thought.)

Comment
Just re- watched R.E.M.’s video of “Imitation of Life,” which I think is a very good song and video.
Stipe is gay but as with many gay men has masculine aspects. I think the song is about weakness and strength. And how they play out.