Just felt like sharing...

Is It For Now Or For Always
by Phillip Larkin

Is it for now or for always,
The world hangs on a stalk?
Is it a trick or trysting place,
The woods we have found to walk?

Is it a mirage or miracle,
Your lips that lift at mine:
And the suns like a juggler's juggling-balls,
Are they a sham or a sign?

Shine out, my sudden angel,
Break fear with breast and brow,
I take you now and for always,
For always is always now.

The Worst Part

The small window of time with Mayan I was able to wrestle away from the grips of one's insecurity and desire to win a battle, today, on Father's Day, flew by. Seems every minute with Mayan does. Why should three hours be any different? Now I face the grim reality of not seeing her again for two weeks. I commence a series of business trips tomorrow that will ultimately bring me to New York, where I will meet Mayan and her mother as they arrive from their trip to Toronto which begins Tuesday. Mayan and I will spend a few days in NY before heading to Ohio on July 2nd. Though I will have plenty on my plate over the next couple of weeks it doesn't change how much I will miss seeing her and hugging her. It's that simple. I'm happy and grateful that she gets all of this life experience with visiting her cousins and grandparents in Toronto and getting to see one of her good friends who moved to New Jersey. But, I despise this part - the worst part of being a divorced parent; having to be away from your child.

Father's Day

"A man's children and his garden are both a reflection of the amount of weeding he has done during the growing season."  -unknown

I have never known a greater joy than being the father of this wonderful little girl. She is the love of my life and the cause of my proudest moments. Thank you Mayan Jade for making every day a Happy Father's Day. I love you, "Bug".

Warning: Radical Riffs To Come

The block is broken. I am writing. It has been far too long since I have put my thoughts into written word. No screenplays. No poems (not even the fridge magnet kind). No journal entries. Even birthday cards suffered the void of original thought. The reasons for this unintentional sabbatical shall most likely be explored in the pixels of this very tableau. Never-the-less, the silence, the hiding, the suppressing all ended in this moment. I'm not sure this is the proper forum to begin, but I must start somewhere and here I am. You have been warned.

You didn't bother when I was here
Don't be bothered when I'm gone
The path to Peace I'll walk alone
Without burden, without fear

Don't gather in my honor
Nor reminisce in my name
No flowers nor songs of somber
Ignore me just the same


 

please explain

Why do republicans want to help terrorists get weapons?

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/05/05/bloomberg-terror-gap-argu_n_564733.html

Monday Giggle

One day a fourth-grade teacher asked the children what their fathers did for
a living. All the typical answers came up -- fireman, mechanic, businessman,
salesman, doctor, lawyer, and so forth.

However, little Justin was being uncharacteristically quiet, so when the
teacher prodded him about his father, he finally replied, 'Okay...my
father's an exotic dancer in a gay cabaret and takes off all his clothes in
front of other men and they put money in his underwear. Sometimes, if the
offer is really good, he will go home with some guy and stay with him all
night for money.'

The teacher, obviously shaken by this statement, hurriedly set the other
children to work on some exercises and then took little Justin aside to ask
him, 'Is that really true about your father?'

'No', the boy said, 'He actually is a Republican Senator, but I was too embarrassed
to say that in front of the class.'