Tags » Altoids

Curiously Strong Mints, Indeed

While waiting on a checkout line the other day I did something I rarely do; I made an impulse buy. There I was, staring blankly at headlines I couldn’t care less about, only because there really was nowhere else for me to look. 1,006 more words

Chrisjgay.com

Real time

My thanks to a wildly abundant Universe for bringing distant issues back front & center, real time.

Issues that had fuzzed with time came roaring back into clarity, giving me – all of us – the priceless opportunity to respond differently than in the past.   516 more words

Mental Health

The 1980s called - asking for the Z80 Membership Card

The ’80’s and early ’90’s saw a huge proliferation of “personal” computers, spawning an army of hacker kids who would go on to hone their computing chops on 8-bit and 16-bit computers from brands such as Sinclair, Commodore, Acorn, Apple, Atari, Tandy/RadioShack and Texas Instruments. 387 more words

Classic Hacks

A is for Achalasia (Probably)

I am really so frigging tired of having something wrong with me all the time. Sometimes it just seems like all I do is go to doctors and do tests and take medication. 496 more words

Rheumatoid Arthritis

Yes, It's Good to Re-purpose Stuff!

Here’s a posting that doesn’t fit into any of my usual topics, but it’s the kind of thing bloggers write about a lot: re-purposing common stuff. 249 more words

Grab Bag

Guest Blogger: This sunflower wakes starved for light and rain’-S Francis

This sunflower wakes starved for light and rain.

Its shield edged with razor blades.

Its eye dried to spitting seeds.

Starved beyond satiate, dug up and burnt… 168 more words

Poetry

Mr. Militant Negro reblogged this on The Militant Negro™ and commented:

This sunflower wakes starved for light and rain’-S Francis

This sunflower wakes starved for light and rain.

Its shield edged with razor blades.

Its eye dried to spitting seeds.

Starved beyond satiate, dug up and burnt

Far from the compost bin, no utility to be found.

No better than a weapon that cannot harm. No worse

Than a flower that forgot to count its steps to the sun.

This soil wakes starved for rain and weeds.

Its womb dry like beached sand.

Proud rocks pulverized by a persistent tide

Into stubborn grains sticking to feet being cleaned

By the one needing to be saved. No nutrient to be found.

No better than a garden that died fallow

Suffering the relentless beating of a lonely sun.

The sun wakes starved for seed and dirt.

Its rays linger too long wanting to be expected.

Trapped under chemicals denied existence

Creates wealth inside a tomb we will all be buried.

The compost bin will not save us.  No hope to be found.

Nothing better than an apocalypse to redefine the vision

Of this sunflower now replanted starting to count its steps.