Temporary humor post

A stranger was seated next to a little girl on the airplane when the stranger turned to her and said,
‘Let’s talk. I’ve heard that flights go quicker if you strike up a conversation with your fellow passenger.’

The little girl, who had just opened her book, closed it slowly and said to the stranger, ‘What would you like to talk about?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said the stranger. ‘How about nuclear power?’ and he smiles.

OK, ‘ she said. ‘That could be an interesting topic.
But let me ask you a question first. A horse, a cow, and a deer all eat the same stuff – grass – . Yet a deer excretes little pellets, while a cow turns out a flat patty, and a horse produces clumps of dried grass. Why do you suppose that is?’

The stranger, visibly surprised by the little girl’s intelligence, thinks about it and says, ‘Hmmm, I have no idea…’

To which the little girl replies, ‘Do you really feel qualified to discuss nuclear power when you don’t know shit?

Matured

I’m not gonna lay you down easy!
Your fall will be hard with great shatter!
You’ve given me nothing but worry.
To be done with you, is all that will matter.

Your blood runs no more, its stored far away,
seems your insides grew empty and hollow.
With your craggy arms broken and cracked
and your heart, has dried empty and shallow.

I’ve watched you not grow to this point.
Your wasted and the slowly demise.
The vermin inside has taken control,
within you they have taken up shelter.

I know you cant cry, as I add up the days,
since I’ve watched your eminent death!
Watch out below, we will watch as you go
You old ugly Red Oak with no breath!

10/07 OD2
Image by Lightworks

Old Age by Edgar Guest

I used to think that growing old was reckoned just in years,
But who can name the very date when weariness appears?
I find no stated time when man, obedient to a law,
Must settle in an easy chair and from the world withdraw.
Old Age is rather curious, or so it seems to me.
I know old men at forty and young men at seventy-three.

I’m done with counting life by years or temples turning gray.
No man is old who wakes with joy to greet another day.
What if the body cannot dance with youth’s elastic spring?
There’s many a vibrant interest to which the mind can cling.
‘Tis in the spirit Age must dwell, or this would never be:
I know old men at forty and young men at seventy-three.

Some men keep all their friendships warm,
and welcome friendships new,
They have no time to sit and mourn the things they used to do.
This changing world they greet with joy and never bow to late;
On every fresh adventure they set out with hearts elate
From chilling fear and bitter dread they keep their spirits free
While some seem old at forty they stay young at seventy-three.

So much to do, so much to learn, so much in which to share!
With twinkling eyes and minds alert some brave both time and care.
And this I’ve learned from other men, that only they are old
Who think with something that has passed the tale of life is told.
For Age is not alone of time, or we should never see
Men old and bent at forty and men young at seventy-three.

~ Edgar A Guest

My three picks for the Kentucky Derby

My Premonition

4:10 am

“Yeeeeah?…. alright I’ll pick you up in about 15, 20 minutes, let me take a crap and find my friggin’ license, you make coffee yet?”

“Yep and the bacon’s on too.”

“Jesus, Cole! Do you ever stop fuckin’ eating? I’m still stuffed ! See ya in a bit”

I had to get rid of last nights grillins; Springtime fishing is a endless bounty of freezer stuffers and we had a great time at our local honey hole yesterday. The smallmouth bass were hitting anything we threw at ‘em and Cole was just itching to get an early start.

My guts were a little uneasy after all the food we cooked last night and I was in no hurry. I gathered up my tackle and found the license laying on the floor of the gazebo. It must of fell out of my pocket when I finally collapsed in front of the fireplace.

I was jarred awake around 1 am to the sound of thunder and made my way inside to
finish off the dream . . .

It was a good one too!

All I remember was a carton of Moonpies, a six pack of Cokes and a muddy Jeep ride with some tight jeans and a clean white T. . .

Cole lives down a twisting lane, fenced on both sides, so it was easy for my groggy eyes to blindly follow the gravel path. I realized not far along though, that it had rained pretty good last night. I hit a couple of puddles and got my ass wet, without having the doors on the Jeep.

I smelled the breakfast as I pulled up to the brightly lit house and had to dodge
Bruiser and One – Eye, Cole’s coon hounds. Who instinctively start howling
when they hear the Jeep coming half a mile away! They go into that mode when its dark out, regardless whether we’re going or not.

“Find your license?”

“Yep, Got coffee?”

“Sure do, grab a seat, ya want toast?”

“Sure, I ain’t in no hurry. The roads gonna be wet as shit, it poured last night. Andy’s field is full again”.

Cole slid a plateful in front of me and set his down. Then went and grabbed our coffee.

“Gonna have to lock the hubs in to get down to the river. It’s gonna be sloppy for sure.
You’re gonna have to take the tractor to your drive, it washed out again down by the cedars.”

“Damn, think I’ll need more gravel?”

“Nahh, just a brushing’ll do’er” . . .

“Maybe pull some in from the lower edge.”

“Thanks for the eggs”.

“Sure, there’s more bacon if ya want.”

“Nah, I’m good…ya ready?”

“You kidding? I cant wait to start casting, that was a ball yesterday.”

“Sure was! Well lets git goin then.” (I grab the bacon.)

We locked the hubs in and pulled out, Bruiser and One – Eye followed along,
till I could hear their howls diminish, like they always do.

I didn’t have the fence to guide me any more. So it was a little harder to see
especially going down through the wooded trail.

All of a sudden an owl came swooping down from my left! Scared the shit out of me!
(didn’t think I had any left) and when I ducked, I pulled the wheel to the right,
that sucked us downward into the gully, I nailed the gas and the mud started to fly.

I knew I had to keep from getting stuck in that ravine. Well, I cut it back to the left again and she started to climb back up out of a certain mire. When all of a sudden,
I saw an old dead fall, with it’s outcropping of branches headed right for my grill!

Still in threat of sliding down into the deep ditch, I had to keep going.

The screeeeeeeching of metal and wood brings cringes to me as it rubs its way along. Snapping and popping as the brittle twigs break free from the trunk.

I managed to save us from going into the ravine. But in that quick instant a branch had reached up into her innards and rendered us immobile. I imagined, it had popped the Z Bar off of the clutch.

Well, I shut her off and climbed out. Kicking and grabbing sticks and twigs, cussing and growling.

I hurriedly got the hood cleared off and opened it up in fear of the battery shorting out or a broken gas line.

Nothing was injured inside the engine compartment. I sighed a little sighhhhh of relief.

So, the next thing was to crawl underneath and look for the Z Bar to try and pop it back on.

I’m on my back under the front end and the water is starting to soak my shirt. I holler out: “Cole bring me the flashlight. It’s in the glove box between the seats!”

I yell again, “Hurry up I’m getting wet!”

Suddenly I feel a hand on my crotch, I clang my head loudly on the metal undercarriage and scream out, “WHAT THE FUCK !”

I clamber on out from underneath the Jeep and there stands Cole:

With a Moonpie and a Coke, in a white T, and his fat ass tightly encased in blue jeans!!!

~Outdoors2 5/08

this is another story written for a “Twisted Tales Challenge” @ Redbubble

Saddles Sore

I’d let you go.
untouched unseen
Faded dull,
became your sheen

With lack of heed
your jeweled patine
tarnished
green
by envies course

We shared this view
As longed for each
To blush
again so soon

To strip you down
with oiled scents
callous hands
massaged back
Smooth

Though done before
caressed and buffed
Polished
once more
to all your splendor

We’ll let them know
We share this
Bond
By winning
First in show

~Outdoors2 5/08

The Perfect Day

Have you ever woke to that perfect day?

The one where everything beforehand has been tediously planned,
all the details scrutinized, checked off and gone over thrice!
The only thing left to do the night before is relax, chat about the
upcoming events and get a good nights rest, for the trip ahead.

Trust me, this was “That” day. We woke to the smell of the
timed coffee, the birds calling their splendor to the new dawn.
The sun, just starting to rise over the lake. Suddenly the alarm
breaks the stillness with the Neil Young, put in to listen,
as we rolled around last night.

Signaled, we rise and prepare for the day ahead.

Ambling downstairs, I think of last minute details, such as
the windows and doors locked up, all the powered electronics
off’ed and phone calls to the others to see if there is anything,
anything at all we could have possibly forgotten. Quickly the bagels
go into the toaster and the cream cheese taken out to soften.
Wallet is found, purse set to the ready.

Ah! Toilet paper!

Everything, just as planned!

All the little miscellaneous little do-dads gathered in our arms,
we head outside and dump the burdens on the front seat.
After an observant walk around, we both Jump in and ready
for this, so needed getaway.

Buckled up and all set, I turn the key.

The alarm goes off!

It’s raining hard,….. and Like a Hurricane, is Blaring across the Airwaves

I reach over and touch your back, So starts another, Perfect Day

Originally posted as “The Trip”, for a Twisted Tales Challenge…Here

Mid Morning Ride

With a swift crack of the crop

He neighs as he rears and hoofs come down hard.
Pounding the ground ‘thump’ with a thunderous bolt.
Faster than the grasshoppers among Timothy grass.
Yah!! She yells and he bucks a wicked once.

He continues his stride longer and faster
as she grabs his mane tighter with screams
Yah!! Yah!!
to where they are headed is with out a care
but the ride is the limits, if limits were there

Faster!, Faster!
Till all bristles are straight. As if a paint brush
quickly readying to stroke virgin canvas
This portrait of ecstasy is done by a master
The clods that he scours, fly by in a flash
the few that have circled are on their way back

Yah!! Yah!!
He jumps in his canter, as he’s off on this dash.
She pitches to the left as the gritty balls fly,
then back to the right to avoid her sweet sighs.
The river ahead will clean them up well!
The moisture of sweat slipstreaming her thighs.

He slows to a trot,
As the river is thick, overflowing its banks.
She releases his cape in a unparalleled quench.
He kneels down as if bow, then her legs cast away.
They shiver the calmness, after this ride of midday

~Outdoors2 5/08

FIRE BREWED

Chili ’s not made with all measures of which,
But dashes of that and handfuls of this.
Big chunks of onion and plenty of sauce,
Squeezed to extract and steeped in the rue
Tomatoes chopped up and and pushed in to stew
Add cumin not spooned but shook with a shake
The most cayenne also that your stomach can take
The mushrooms are thrown from the woods to the pot
Just a half jig of ‘basco, to get her plenty hot
So slice up the sausage and grind up beef too
This brew will be ready in an hour or two
Still the true test will come as it sits and melds sin
Tomorrow’s guarantee? You’ll have to stay in…;P

~Outdoors2

Of Rituals and Man Hugs

We gather at Joe’s on a crisp October morning, Coffee for most. Beer for some. The `man’ hug shared among the core. We chat about what chainsaw needs sharpening, who has the percosets (for laters back relief), the deer in the field, which log pile to start on and who’s position is who’s at the splitter.It starts out with three or four `supervisors’ (usually the beer drinkers) directing the mass confusion and stumbling around trying to help the roughshod process turn into a smooth running, orchestrated production. After the initial burst of enthusiasm things settle in and each finds their own spot among the group and accepts the designated or perceived position that needs their filling. The day wears on as we each relinquishes the worn out soldier from the strenuous task they, too, had taken over from the one before him. Lunch brings a long awaited break from the chore that we never prepare for. Moaning and groans, bandages replaced, war stories told about the log that almost… the finger…the toe! All smile at the mornings accomplishment. Each knowing the necessity to keep the winter stoves stoked will cost these little scars. Break time passes and few head off to football practice, the tree stand, shopping whatever other life deed needs to be done this fall day. Besides, wearing oneself out from each years ritual. The core continues on..a well tuned, greased machine is all that remains now. The rhythm goes unbroken as switching eachs’ task, is a premonition known far in advance, before failure in this chain of events. The last pile dwindles quickly, as the remains are cleaned up and every odd piece is put through the mill, Finding it’s fate eventually on the stack. The field is scanned again for the evening feeders, the saws gathered up, stray files found, Tailgates put up, a pat on the back and the final Man hug given.

~Outdoors2 5/08

Thanks, Rachel …be whole now

From Where ?

Been There !

I’m from the oceans
or is it the seas
could be the valleys
a deep side of me

I’m scattered on plains
cast far across rows
or is it the prairie
where my soul blows

I’m born out of springs
trickled from earth
might be the rivers
which I am birthed

I’m an ort of granite
from mountain so wide
but soft as the magma
deep down inside

I’m bayous and swamps
a quag to be mired
stalled to a halt
mossed beauty admired

I’m wherever You are
You’re one in the same
whoever you are
whatever Your name

Care not where
nor what you were then
Who you are now
means more than you’ve been

~ RRS ~ Outdoors2 4/08

the day we went cycling
in the hot summer sun
the wind on our skin

I fell
sat there crying
you came to kiss my bruises
I tried to stop you at the scratches

you looked at me
and kissed them anyway

that day
a garden bloomed
in my heart

I still smell
the flowers

~*~

De-N

My Fast

If I was coming off fast
and my love of it, was pure
The best of the best
would be…
what I wanted for sure

Each of us has our own
So to recommend isn’t fair
just get what you’ve been missing
I just know that you’ll care

The test of time will have taken
it’s toll on your tongue
If only you knew
of what my fasting is from

Mine wasn’t Chocolate or Honey
tho sweet it is true
My restrictions were of
the wonderful tasting of …You

~Me

~~~*~~~

All Four

When new life emerges
and blossoms abound
the crisp leaves the air
with warmth of the ground

Come birds and the worms
the gnats and the bees
long summers drag on…
then the  falling of leaves

Cold… wind driven storms
with icicle’s and chill
four seasons all pass
as our world is not still

© ~RRS, ~Outdoors2

Artwork by…Kuryosity

Trove

Treasures saved
and stored for time
dimmed tho dark
still buffed to prime
allow all locks
to be undone
with each key
two hearts as one
Upon opening
of ones chest
Shining jewels
shall show their best

©~RRS, Outdoors2 3/08

a Tree and a River

a Tree and a River
Role reversals as they grow

The need for each other is always there, Always supporting the other whether the water is brushing the roots or not. The River gives life to the Tree with it’s nourishment and the Trees’ root strength confine the River to its banks. When the River swells the Tree may topple, But certainly clinging to the banks with the tiniest threads for self preservation, knowing if it is plucked from the earth and cast off it is nevermore. The Tree stays close enough to the source of nourishment so it can still survive with minuscule effort and care from the River. Still the Tree holds on, not to succumb to the torrential waters as they erode away the slopes. Then through time, refreshment and reflection, the Tree starts to rebuild, renew with a rebirth. Not as it was. But stronger now that it’s previous branches take hold the silt and burrow to grasp deeper. Still fully aware this very well could be it’s last chance, For another storm of greater intensity would surely carry it to the tangled jam below. With nothing but confusion among its mass. Slowly the Tree will grow strong again with the fulfillment of its need from the River. As the River stays within it’s course and strays not from its channel with the myriad of the Trees new growth, expansion and strength.Till the damn Logger comes and shreds all hope

~RRS, ~Outdoors2 2/08

Winter doldrums

It was there on the carousel when it was ready to start
but the switchman had to leave and she jumped out of sight
I sat on my pony and waited till dark
I was all by my self only one in the park

She never came back and I thank as I sat
Wondering where I could find the golden ring at
It hadn’t come round for a day and a half
as I sat on my pony still trying to laugh

I sit and I wait for the gears to engage
its that ring on the hook I so wanted to hold
But the park has been closed now for a month and a day
So i just sit where I sat waiting for someone to play

~RRS, Outdoors2 2/08

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.
–Mary Oliver–

Over You

2 Years

17-Feb-’09

Art by… Brian Duey

Six Word Story

With out You

We are Not

~Outdoors2

Astral Court

Moons beams dance and bound
around a sky as dark as ink
and Venus watches in dismay
the fool in her new mans ways
Mars turns red with bitterness
as his love casts her glow astray
Saturn turns and rolls away
for fear of rings bent matter
Uranus bows and cracks a smile
to all the ones who care
Earth becomes the friend as is
they all know his pull is there
but, Jupiter jumps across the lines
as his size is one to flatter
Neptune rinses off his brow
to see the show in view
Mercury hurries to meet with Pluto
before he goes astray
the Stars are twinkles of alls eyes
alluring and shine they may
the Sun! well she stays hidden
as not to ruin this knights Day

~RRS, Outdoors2, 2/08
~~~*~~~

Simple Math

An easy way to add just one
add you to me and find the sum..

1 + 1 = ♥
~R

Not, Just a Field

Not, Just a Field

Just a field that most will see
so much more than grass for free
Just some blades they may view
gentle sways of graceful you
Just stalks grown withered and dry
ag-ed strength longs sprig and spry
Just some fodder filling space
curves of smiles, wave ‘cross your place
Just laying matted without care
the tangled look that draws me here
Just stored seed cased in it’s shell
this field of dreams will cast it’s spell
It’s Just a field that most will see
It’s Just much more than that to Me

It’s Just a field that most will see

~RRS, Outdoors2 2/08
~~~*~~~

Sisters

My tears of joy your smiles bring
always as we meet

Our love is all eternity
tho’ cloaked and ever sweet

Forever knowing you are near
so even if not there

As sisters share a way to tell
For you,
I’ll always care

~Dad

~~~*~~~

Artwork..Pierre-Auguste-Renoir

Bowl full of roses

A Bowl full of Roses

Pink brings gentle meaning
to Lavender’s ‘magination
Yellow is the base for
Orange’s inflamation
White’s the One, it’s Pure
But Red is…
Love for Sure

© ~RRS, ~Outdoors2
~~~*~~~