I feel like I could have or should have been able to predict my afternoon slide into a slump. A slump that has, somewhat intentionally, stretched into an evening slump with a glass of wine. I wish I could describe the feeling better. It’s a bit of a hollow feeling and at times a desire…
Category: Life
Go Birds
I grew up in the suburbs of Philadelphia. I spent most of my life living outside of Philadelphia. When people would ask where I’m from, it was easier to say Philly because nobody knew where Bensalem or Yardley were. My elementary school would take field trips into the city to the Franklin Institute which had…
A Good Week
It’s been a good week. Though it’s only part-way over and there’s still plenty of time for Chekhov’s hammer to wreak havoc: Every happy man should have some one with a little hammer at his door to knock and remind him that there are unhappy people, and that, however happy he may be, life will…
Wherever I Go, There I Am
In the day or two after referencing old results of personality tests which suggest that I’m a mediator of sorts who both seeks and brings calm and balance, my web stats reminded me of posts I’ve written that might suggest otherwise. Posts about my various anxieties (generally needing to be early and my discomfort over…
Happy Sunday Y’all
You might as well turn back now. This is one of those list/update posts. As in I’m not sure I have anything to say, but having spent a day in solitude with good music and good books, I feel compelled to say something. Lately, I’ve been listening to a lot of songs from the band…
Three Scenes in Paris
Last night I dreamt I was in Paris. I’ve never been to Paris, so the dream was full of what I imagine Paris to be and what I’ve seen on TV. I remember discussing pastries with a woman I met through a mutual acquaintance – a man who looked like a heavier version of the…
They Say It’s the Journey
No sooner did I finish writing my “Love Letter to Memphis,” I hopped in the shower and was immediately consumed by two or three thoughts: “home is always somewhere else,” “home is where other people are / home is with other people,” and “I can fall in love almost anywhere / with any place.” I…
A Love Letter to Memphis
For a year, I lived in Memphis, Tennessee. I moved there to be alone. I moved there to recover from a failed engagement. I moved there for the music and the culture and to feel something akin to roots. I moved there for a bit of self-discovery, re-calibration, and a fresh start. I had landed…
More of the Same
What’s the point? More specifically (but not terribly specific), what’s the point of this? All of it. Last night, my friend and I were talking about whether poetry could/should evoke emotion, like actually make the reader feel an emotion… or does it just approximate those feelings in the reader? I’m sure it happens, but I…
With the Camera On…
Last night I reconnected with an ex. We were shy at first. We were aware that we had been re-entering each other’s orbits, but had been avoiding getting in touch. Our circles had been intersecting though mutual friends and former co-workers. We agreed we should talk or have dinner or something like that. I don’t…
Regrets: We Have but One Life
A poetry account I follow on Twitter posts/hosts a “poetry thread” almost every day. The poet picks a broad topic and shares a poem that relates to or exemplifies the topic/sentiment. Other people share poems that also relate. I usually read the original post and poem and maybe one other one, but seldom dive into…
At Capitalism’s Bar and Grill
After my friends left and my pizza arrived, I had a heated discussion over economics with the couple sitting next to me. I’ve talked to this couple before (once) and I’ve seen them often. Like me, they’re Friday night regulars at the bar. The conversation began innocently enough – they wanted to know what I…