December 17. I almost missed it.

Seriously …. I almost did. If not for a reminder from Michael I would have forgotten about it all together. Such is the nature of life.

And that, I suppose, is exactly my point. Today is important. There is only one today. Don’t just forget about it. Make the most of it.

I invite you all, therefore, to provide your thoughts on this special day. Don’t try too hard – don’t waste too much of the day doing spell checks. Life is too short, sometimes, for correct grammar.

Here are a few thoughts of my own.

Tomorrow will be

In its way

Just the same as


What will be

Already been

All you see

Already seen

Embrace the truth

Don’t look away

Grab this moment

Come what may

Let the instant

Reign supreme

Today December


AND …..

Far horizon

Distant dawn

Watch today

As now is born

I see no reason

Hear no rhyme

That brought about

This place in time

Just hold it close

Don’t let it go

There is no other truth

To know

It’s happening

It’s now. It’s here

It’s just begun

It’s end is near

It’s that time of year. News of Jesus.

This is not mine. I lifted it from elsewhere. But it appealed to today’s mood ….


THE HEAVENS—Admitting that He almost couldn’t bear to look at those old speeches from his Nazareth days, the Lord Jesus Christ told reporters Monday that He was super embarrassed about all that stupid shit He said 2,000 years ago. “Man, I was into some really weird religious mumbo-jumbo back then; all those long-winded, preachy parables I told my apostles are just so not me,” said Christ of the multiple sermons He gave, many of which He now views as pretentious and overwrought, adding that He was only 30 years old and still learning how to be the messiah. “Honestly, if I had known that people were going to write down everything I said and turn it into the New Testament, I probably would have been more careful with my words. I deeply regret uttering any of that ‘love thy neighbor’ shit. I hated the inconsiderate assholes who lived next door. Man, just thinking about me blathering on during the Sermon on the Mount, I totally get why Pontius Pilate wanted to crucify me.” Christ, who described his many miracles as “cringeworthy,” also conceded that He was still pretty proud of that time when He multiplied those fish and the loaves of bread

December 17

Everybody I know is very excited about this year’s December 17. Last year the day was an absolute fizzer and I simply cannot allow that to happen again. All sorts of gift ideas have been popping up in my feed and I am still open to those ideas, of course, but Kate’s suggestion of poetry seems the most appropriate.

So I am gathering together a collection of poems as a celebration of the special day. December 17 and I both have a short attention span so these contributions should be brief and come in any form that appeals to the writer. I am not a big one for stifling creative minds by over direction so there is no real theme. Anything that would tickle the fancy of December 17 will be perfect.

My pal, Rugby843, notes that it is a day to tell someone that you love them … so run with that idea if you like (and you don’t even have to mean it).

It doesn’t even have to be poetry, really … it might be a drawing or a photo …. or anything at all, in fact. The celebration of December 17 should be an expression of artistic freedom – and of freedom in general.

I have no idea of what to do with any contributions, mind you. I don’t really know how they should be presented. Any suggestions in that regard would also be most welcome.

Mark your calendars

I have been reading, this morning, about the fact that December has started. It is a time, it would appear, for reflection. I’ve read a lot about ‘what a year it has been for me’ and I have read all about people’s achievements and about their personal growth over the preceding eleven months. Nobody seems to hold great hopes for December itself, though. They are already beckoning in another year. Sorry December. Please step aside and let us through.

The focal point for the month, to be sure, is towards the end and I suppose I can understand the excitement of getting there. But it must make a date like, say, December 12, feel a bit inferior and a bit pointless. This year I might hold a celebration of some sort on December 17 – in the name of diurnal equality.

My mother, incidentally, was born on December 25. What rotten luck.

But if I am to get all reflective myself then I’d have to admit to having achieved absolutely nothing so far this year. Based on form it is unreasonable to anticipate great successes in the next 31 days either. Last year was much the same. I have gotten a bit lazier and fatter, I suppose, but this is not so much an achievement but rather just part of the evolutionary process. I was discussing with a friend last night (over a glass of wine. Or two) the idea of devolution …. she was wondering if it were possible to go backwards in the process. She had noticed that those around her were growing gradually more stupid. She may have been referring to me.

The idea is a nonsense, as far as I can tell, for it assumes that there is a direction in all of this – some sort of destination for the great ship of fools. But there is no up or down, no east or west. Nowhere to go. So just relax. And stop trying to steer. We will all get there soon enough and when we do we will realise that there is here and then is now. We have already arrived.

But try to set aside a little time for December 17, just the same. Try to make it feel special.

I may have lied to you

There is very little that a man will not do to get into a woman’s pants. Don’t look away. Don’t pretend to be shocked. You all know that it’s true.

In the big scale of deceit I don’t think that a few exaggerations spoken in the name of love should ruffle too many feathers. Lies are just the male equivalent of lipstick. If it gets a bit smudged in the heat of passion then nobody really cares.

My friend Kate spoke on the subject (or perhaps she was speaking of something else … who can tell with women?) and I replied. I stress to you (that do not already know) that Kate is a close relative.

It would be improper for me to have such thoughts about her ….

My mission here will always be
Avoidance of reality
I cheat, I lie, I stand aloof
I fib, I falsify the truth
I make up stuff.
And I invent
The stories that I hope
You asking questions
Checking facts
Before allowing
Sordid acts
Upon your person
On your skin
Seeking passage
Deep within
Please don’t forsake me
Don’t reject
The falsehood
That I now project
Forgive my fiction
Let me stay
You are just like me

Romantically Foolish

I read a poem from Rory last night HERE which I found very moving entitled ‘Foolishly Romantic’. I have not reblogged it. You have probably already seen it, for he has a far wider readership than do I. If you haven’t read it then, of course, I commend it to you.

It is a very honest piece and I think it is supposed to be about his perceived shortcomings and failings (at the time … I note that it was written some years ago). In the end, though, I think it is about being human.

I was reminded, for some reason, of a quote from Kurt Vonnegut who says,

Kurt Vonnegut

“When a couple has an argument nowadays they may think it s about money or power or sex or how to raise the kids or whatever. What they’re really saying to each other, though without realizing it, is this: “You are not enough people!”

I take that to mean that, no matter how much you love someone, and no matter how much they love you, you will never be everything – so you will never be quite enough.

Anyway, this is a long winded way of saying that I responded to Rory, because I was moved and because I could not let it pass without response.
And because much of my own foolishness is the symptom of an overly romantic perspective.
I hope it says something to someone.
This is what I said; (the semi colon is for Judy54)

The sun descends
Behind a cloud
My thoughts of you
I share aloud
In whispers to
I know not where
Pretending that
You are still there
For in my thoughts
I give you life
And you will always be
My wife
However foolish
Be my dreams
I am a fool for love
It seems.