Posted in Writing Challenges

Without Further Ado (And Editing) May I Present…

 

Michael Jackson wrote a song about ‘Remember the Time’ and the Stones had an early hit named ‘Time Is On My Side’. Jim Croce sang a beautiful ballad called ‘Time in a Bottle’ while the Chambers Brothers sang a heavier version of ‘Time Has Come Today’. Remember when Jim Croce died and some talk show had his widow singing one of his songs and she cried though the whole thing? I remember thinking ‘insensitive’ and ‘sadists’. Had he left a baby behind too? Those days most people were high. Strong argument for how it dulls the brain, wouldn’t you say?

 

The time is 4:51 a.m. The muse doesn’t discriminate when it comes to time. It seems it’s time for me to write in Times New Roman font (har – I know, it’s a stretch). Luckily I fell asleep early without movie to lull me, trick my eyelids to close. Although there are 24-hour grocery stores, when there’s more light in the sky, when daylight cracks its lids for me to see its promise, it’ll be time for me to go shopping. Good thing too – when I open the fridge moths fly out complaining the ketchup, mayonnaise and ranch dressing aren’t very talkative. Make no mistake, I’m not a ranch dressing person although bacon-ranch makes it more tolerable, but my grandson is. He calls it sauce and dips pizza, chicken sticks, fish sticks and occasionally french fries in it – yuk – but he likes it. My spell check says it’s time to redline french fries for capitalization. Should I? It’s a name but nothing formal. Now if I were speaking French that would be different. Hmm.

 

According to physics and postulated by Einstein and his fellow scientist-geniuses in IQ, time doesn’t exist. We’ve got past and future but the present fleets by us and we’re never in the present but in the past. True. We don’t have time to say it’s gone before it’s way passed. Time goes by faster than the speed of light, faster than space travel. I live in the present – not. Man made time to chop up the day for profit, to get us to school on time. Maybe big business was the angel that was cast out of heaven, fell to earth, and that’s when time began. Gives a little kick to the saying ‘learn from the past’. Guess we don’t have to go too far back. Then again if we sit too long and think, we’ve just made ancient history.

 

How am I doing so far for a person who was at a loss as to what to write about time?
Dial 1-800…
Like those bumper stickers that ask how we like the driver’s driving and give a number to call. While driving isn’t the time to start pressing buttons on a cell, and if we don’t like the *@#!!^* person’s driving we might be more apt to take the time to yell out the window.

 

Remember times of innocence
Were we ever?
Just born
What I call fresh from God
Sure we were
We’ve acted in innocence too
Though it may’ve turned into ‘my bad’
Still can

Remember the time we went to Florida
And sailed the glass-bottom boats?
Remember when I bought cans of sunshine
Could I have been any more of a touristy-Yankee from NY?
The very reason the sunshine was canned
(Partly heartfelt
Sharing southern warmth)
Was for times like this and people like me
I don’t mind

…Time

 

___________________________________

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “time.”

 

socs-badge

http://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/08/15/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-1614/

 

Posted in Fiction & Poetry

Days Of Flatmates Passed: Burn Notice

 

Flatmates moving out
Don’t be helpful I think
But I thought too late
As I gathered up the pile
Of lesson plans and homework
Stuck together with spent prophylactics
Happy I was wearing my utility gloves
These I’ll discard, get a clean pair for dishes
I sighed
As an empty contraception packet
Slipped from between
No easy feat
For it I mean
Getting through passion’s gunk
Don’t want to imagine how lessons were planned
Into the trash with the last of the homework
A mental command
Good luck with your grades
But the floor is clean

 

I can’t help but muse
She doesn’t want children
Still she could have been more careful
Insect repellant was missing
Flyswatters too
Sarcasm it’s true
Plastic wrap could have been handy
In a number of ways
And large rubber bands
That caused me to laugh
Like when someone dies
Credit is given
For something not earned
I know nothing of her man
Didn’t want to
For health’s wellness and wellness’s health
This should be burned

 

I’ll have to say when my time has come
To move out too
I’ll miss my bidets
The Europeanism of temperature control
At least they have them
In this place where I am
Not European per se
Not Asian exactly
But I guess cold water freezing hemorrhoids
Is punishment from above for still being human?

Or is it humane?

So ends sublime thought as I peel my gloves off
Using a biohazard technique
Keeping quarantine clean
For my sake for certain
Possible infection at bay
Now where’s that disinfectant spray!