I hear you knockin'....

I've been practicing some of my stuff for a poetry slam.  I still need work getting comfortable in front of a microphone and crowd.

VI

Mirror, mirror.......

....on the wall...

Well, another Friday night and another evening of prepping my life for moving forward.  Hanging at the house doing chores and trying to get my shit together, listening to the radio and chilling out Shroomy style.  I am getting the regular barrage of calls from buddies trying to figure out what is going on for the evening and shooting them all down like predators in a singles bar.  Live band at the Watering Hole?  No, but thank you.  Latest movie release at the multiplex?  Not tonight, thanks.  Shoot some stick at the pool hall?  Not tonight, man, sorry.  You want some company, at your place?  I appreciate it, but I'll pass this time.

Just me in my habitat.  Nice to just unwind alone occasionally.

These are some of the things I'd like to do around my house...

and maybe a bit of this...

 

 

and I'd have to get a cat, which isn't likely, but maybe just so I could do this...

 

 

 

probably one of these instead...

and I wrote this recently...

One of Those Days

By stu pidasso

9October2013

 

I walk tenderly about her

For she is delicate today

I see it in her body language

I know what not to say

I know the little things

That will help to ease her pain

I pick flowers in the garden

Brought by the recent rain

I make sure the dishes are done

And I dust the up high stuff

I put on some Jack Johnson

As his music is not too rough

I light the sandalwood incense

And let the wisps flavor the air

Like a cat she might hesitate

So that I may stroke her hair

Her mood hangs over the house

Like gray clouds seeping mist

And at some point I know

That she’ll want to be kissed

If I ease in slow and steady

As she lays in the bed to think

She may let me paint her toenails

In her favorite pastel pink

But before I deftly brush

the polish on each nail

I massage her pixie feet

For an extended spell

One more day I sacrifice

The time I have at hand

In order to keep happy

The prettiest girl in all the land

For even with the occasional

Grey and foreboding day

A life time spent with her

Is better than the other way



 

V

Driven

I am having problems with my drive.  When I say "drive", I mean ambition.  My mind says "Run, get fit, loosen up and knock some pounds off the waist line", but my body says "No".  My spirit says "Yes!", but again, my body says "NO!".

 

I went to practice tonight, and I got some early running done, but my body started acting up.  Once I stepped out to get myself composed, I could not get back into practice.  I stood around and watched the younger guys getting their reps done, and some of the older players like myself were getting it done, too.

 

But my body is just not cooperating.

 

That is when my spirit started to wane.  Depression set in very quickly, and so I left.

 

We all have drive.  We all are driven by different motivations.  Some of us chase the dollars.  Some of us chase our dreams.  But we all chase something.  Even if chasing idleness is the choice, some are driven to do nothing.

 

I have got to stay focused on the things I want to accomplish.  Getting fit, getting educated, and being happy; or as I like to remind myself....mind, body, spirit.

 

I had the mind and the spirit tonight, but the body just wasn't going to happen easily.

 

I was about to say "I'll try again tomorrow.", but no!  I will try again tonight!  I will work on some cardio and stretching when I get home, before I go to bed.  For I AM the master of my fate.  I AM the captain of my soul.

 

Last year about this time I was focused on this.....

 

 

My lil’ Squeeze

By stu pidasso

26Feb2013

 

Won’t you hold up, please, my lil’ squeeze?
Can’t you see I’m pleading from my knees?
Do you really want to part company like this?
At least I have the memory of our kiss.

Ce, do you think this is puppy love?
Do you think we’re meant to somehow rise above?
Could you forget or at least forgive that big mistake?
I guess I can’t eat and also have my cake.

Cate, can you tell me why you cheated with him?
Was it thought out well or was it acting on a whim?
Did you just grow tired of our steady routine?
No problem, baby, I hope you enjoy your new scene.

Won’t you hold up, please, my lil’ squeeze?
Can’t you see I’m pleading from my knees?
Do you really want to part company like this?
At least I have the memory of our kiss.

Jessie, wait a second, are you sure you have to go?
Are you sure you don’t still have some love to show?
Are you sure I can’t carry you across that threshold?
No worries, my love will never grow cold.

Marla, why’d you have to pack up and go away?
Why’d you leave this lonely boy by himself to play?
Are you sure we can’t still be a happy family?
It’s okay, I’m getting used to heartache, you see.

Won’t you hold up, please, my lil’ squeeze?
Can’t you see I’m pleading from my knees?
Do you really want to part company like this?
At least I have the memory of our kiss.

Ce, do you think of me now and then?
Do you regret telling me about your new boyfriend?
Do you know that sometimes I still dream of you?
It’s alright; I’ve learned to be nobody’s fool.

Mary Jane, why are you still holding my heart?
Do you ever dream of our lives apart?
Does this life with me ever leave you wanting more?
At my house you’ll always find an open door.

Won’t you hold up, please, my lil’ squeeze?
Can’t you see I’m pleading from my knees?
Do you really want to part company like this?
At least I have the memory of our kiss.

And I was eating this...

 at this place...

 

What drives you?

IV

Blind date....sort of

This is a draft I had left over from a few years ago....

Let me start by saying that I was the typical high school teenager. I had low self-esteem and no sense of what life was about. I did not have the right clothes or drive the right car (I had no car for that matter) and I did not hang-out with the "in" clique. In fact, I am going to warn you all that I was raised more by my five oldest brothers than my mom or dad.

I feel that this has been a huge hurdle for me for the majority of my younger life (unlike now, where I realize I have life by the balls and am squeezing unmercifully). About the only thing I had going for me were my boyish good looks (thanks dad!!).

My junior year in high school, I was dating a girl that I had known since we were freshmen students. Annette was a lot like me. She came from a family that was not one of the hobnobbing clans from the north side of town. We always debated whose family was more dysfunctional (I see now that her family wins hands down). We were both used to hand-me-downs and sharing anything we had with siblings. She was (and is still) sweet. Unfortunately, I was full of the raging hormones with which most high school aged boys were inflicted.

I got hit up at my locker one day, by a cute girl that I knew from my geometry class. Christy was a sophomore and did come from the other side of town (but that matters not to the soldiers of hormone). She thought I was cute and funny and she said all the right things (I don't really remember what she said as much as that I remember that she was interested in me). So we made a date to get together and spend some time getting to know each other. That was my first mistake.

Well, the weekend rolled around and I made my way across town to where she lived. I stole up to the front door and rang the bell. Christy came to the door and let me in and we settled into the front room on the couch. To my amazement, she was home alone and was waiting for me to show up. Her parents (and siblings?) had gone out to see a matinee movie and we would be alone for a few hours. It did not take much for me to realize that she wanted to play. First we kissed. All the regular kissing moves and then two new ones (to me).

What transpired after that is not important (a lady never tells and a gentleman never asks), but let us just say that I got my feet a little more wet than I had had them before. Those wet feet turned to cold feet and I managed to talk my way out of doing anything that most boys my age were dying to do. That was my second mistake.

The rest of the weekend was apparently uneventful, because I did not suddenly take up journaling so I could record the unremembered memorable moment. But when I got back to school the next week, things had changed.

Somewhere in the five days of classes between Sunday and Saturday, Annette had a conversation with Christy. I, being the more than averagely dumb boy, didn't take into account two things. One, that high school is small and everybody knows everybody through somebody else. And two, these two girls might actually share a class together. That was my third mistake.

Well, they did share a class together and when Christy was telling her friends in class about the cute boy and what they had been doing and WHAT HIS NAME WAS, Annette overheard the whole thing. Needless to say, there was hell to pay, but that doesn't make this story go away. These two girls compared notes and decided that I needed to learn a lesson. So as I waited patiently at Annette's car for her to come out for our lunch date, I see both the girls walking up to me with smiles on their faces. Oh, I wish I had a crack or crevice or somewhere to crawl off to at that point, but no. I got to ride stuck in between the girlfriend and the girl friend. And it wasn't some nirvana setting where the three of us would go roll around in a pile of sweaty teenage lust doing things that boys daydream of, no it was hell. Torturous. Uncomfortable as all get out. They made me twist in my discomfort for the entire lunch period. I even got to pay for the lunches (fair enough).

But as fate would have it, I could salvage nothing from either one of them. I was never to share time with Christy again (not so much a problem for me, as she just didn't interest me as Annette did) and I lost Annette as a girlfriend for the rest of our school careers.  We ended up dating again (off and on for twenty years) but much later. And letting her go was my last and worst mistake.

Now I am back home, helping my mother, taking care of my house. I just moved home from Austin, Texas; where I had moved to be closer to my kids and to Annette. But when I got relocated to Austin, Annette broke the news to me that she was in another relationship and just couldn't bear to tell me (until I was standing on her doorstep).

Finis. Kaput. Over. Done. Bye-bye. Ciao. Adios, y vias con Dios, mi amiga. I swear all my love to my latest and best girl-friend ever, Mary Jane. I will stray no more, and always be true. I work as hard as I can so that I can go home to her waiting arms each and every night.

 

Lately, though, I have been up to this...

 

and this....

and even wrote this recently...

Ode to John

By stu pidasso

17Nov2013

We are all just temporary

Like the sighting of a garden faerie

Gusts of wind swept across the land

Bubbles chased by laughing child’s hand

We are butterflies and flutterbies

Sent to give smiles and heal cries

Spur of the moment lover’s lies

Whispered softly to fawning eyes

We are raging flames in bonfire

Fleeing skyward from funeral pyre

Sparkling morning dew on grass

Specters briefly haunting looking glass

We are the fading wolf’s midnight moan

cacophonous busy signal tone

smoke drifting from extinguished match

sea turtle eggs at beachfront hatch

We are melodic mocking bird song

Here for the time, but not for long

So do not live a life cautious and wary

For we are all just temporary

 

 

for this guy...

 

 

III

Curses...

That didn't last long...

I was sitting at the field waiting for practice when the call came in to the Shroomphone.  Someone was in need.  I found the nearest phone booth, changed into my caped avenger outfit and flew to the rescue.

Turns out they didn't need help.  They are just lazy.  Hey Shroom, I have some work that I'm getting paid to do and thought you may want to help me do it.

I do......for the last time.

I missed my workout.  My spirit is not in the shape I wish it to be.  But....at least I'm writing.

Here are some of the things I worked upon today...

Now to get it inspected.....

And I did this...

And last year I was doing this...

And I wrote this...

Brian’s 12^th Birthday Poem
Written by stu pidasso
19Mar2013

Usually when something is lost

Immediately, we know the cost

Of the thing or things we miss

Occasionally, though, it takes time

Like the slow build up of grime

On the neck of your brother, Chris

Sure, you shake your head in disgust

But I know, and you can trust,

Without y’all life would have no bliss

For now that Georgia has taken you two

I am left in Texas, sad and blue
And having you back would be my wish

So blow out your candles, Birthday Boy

I hope you get that wanted toy

But no matter know that you are missed.

Hug your brother, mom and dad

Know that thinking of you makes me glad

And you four will always be on my list

 

Of people I hope to see again

Like an old, long-lost, best friend

Who gets a fist bump, hug or kiss.

 

Back at work, too.  Another day, another dollar.

 

II

On your mark...

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Another beginning is upon us.  Today is the first blank page in a 365 page book, let's write a good one.  I have never been good about making resolutions or keeping them when I've made them, but if I were going to make one for this year it would be to improve my devotion to my own mind, body and spirit.  I will try to read, write and plan more, as well as to think more before I speak or act.  I will try to focus more time and energy to being fitter.  I will strive to be happier and enjoy life each and every day, and try to spread some of that happiness to those around me who touch my life.

Therefore; a blog post, a walk and stretch session (accompanied by some good music), and some time spent with lost loved ones and communing in nature is in order.

But first, about this time last year (since I missed posting so much of last year) I was helping to work on one of mom's bathrooms...

 

I was working on my own house...

 

 

 

and I was enjoying seeing some of these friends around my house...

 

 



 

and I was writing this...

 

 

How Do I Feel

By stu pidasso

11Feb2013

 

I feel like 4:20 just rolled by.

like I'm soaring through the sky.

Barrel rolling through clouds of white,

sky blue backdrop, man that's tight.

I buzz the ground this early dawn,

so close I can smell the manicured lawn.

Loop the loop, ride the breeze,

chase the wind through some vitek trees.

A pass down through Zilker Park,

and spook a dog that begins to bark.

I bank around Rock Island, at last,

and head for home zephyr fast.

Alit on front room sofa seat,

pass that jazoint my wings are beat.

I power walked 1.1 miles in 17 minutes and 40 seconds.  Then I stretched for another twenty minutes.  the sunset was gorgeous and the weather was nice.  I need to keep walking until I get the urge to start jogging.

 

I 

 



And from the old, new...

Another glorious day is upon us, and what we do with it defines us.  I post one old and one new to help give a clue of who I am, how I am and who I strive to be.

Every month I try (and am usually successful) to send my lovely daughter money to help with school and bills.  I like to wrap her gift in poetry so that , maybe, she will be smiling when she cashes the checks (and because she's my daughter and deserves to smile).

But why stop with my daughter, I should be striving to hand out smiles to any and everyone on a daily basis.  It is a staunch reversal in the manner in which I used to hand out cries like they were hot cakes on a cold morning.

Please, have a smile on me.

 

 

 

I wrote all of these while sitting in the hospital on the seventh floor.  I knew I would be sending my daughter a check and therefore I wanted to write her smiles.  I had to ask the nurses at a nurse station for some paper, which they gave to me.  I sat, I wrote, I thought and I looked.  As I worked, in came un viejo caballero.  He was the real deal.  Rough leather skin on his neck and hands, dusty old boots on his feet, working pants and shirt coupled with his weathered cowboy hat painted an amazing picture.  At that point I started writing about him, and then started writing haikus in Spanish.  As I composed, a young Hispanic secretary came in the relax on break.  I asked her what a few words were in Spanish (heart...corazon and love amor) and she told me and commented that I must be writing a love letter to a girl friend.  When I explained to whom I was writing, she fawned about how I was the sweetest man she had ever met.  She asked for and read my haikus and we parted after she gave me her phone number (big smile here).  After I finished writing all but the last haiku, I wanted fresh paper to perfect my handwritten poems upon for sending.  Off to the nurses station I headed, but on my way there I ran into the same nurse who had given me the paper to begin.  We spoke, I asked for more paper and then she noticed my hand written Japanese Haiku (my daughter is taking Japanese this semester and Google Translator is AWE!SOME!).  She asked if they were hieroglyphics and I explained about the daughter and the Japanese and the checks and what not.  AGAIN, I got the "awwwww" factor and "how sweet" and a "I wish I had a man like that in my life" reaction.  We parted with an exchange of paper, a phone number and smiles.  Two women, two phone numbers and two smiles all for me being who I am and doing what I do.  And then I sat down and wrote the last haiku.  I am who I am.  I do what I do.  And I am happy in my own skin.  We all should be so lucky.

 

My Favorite Name

By stu pidasso

13August2013

I heard

That word

Again today

It made me grin

And almost cry

It’s the single thing

I’ve been called

Which I’ll cherish

Until I die

This title, my friends,

Means much more

Than any words

I have to say

But I’ll attempt

To use my words

To explain how

I felt today

For nothing in

This world, if you please

Will break a man

Down to his knees

As hearing a small voice

Chime with such rejoice

This simple, light,

Beloved moniker.

It is a label

Oft reserved

Easy to earn

And quite deserved

By any man

Who has taken time

To love and guide

A tiny mime

As I’ve been known

To be addressed

In several dozen ways

Once, it was brown berry

Most often

It’s plain old Jerry

And once it was

Johnny Meg

Still it’s Shroom

The hooker of doom

I was known as

Andrew Evan too

My pseudonym

Was Mr. Pidasso

Also known as Stu

I’ve even been called

Uncle Fatty

But my favorite

By a long shot

Is just the simple

 

Daddy

Brick by brick...

Last post of the year, and by far, too few this year.  I will resolve to do a better job of consistently posting my musings this next year.  So what do I have to say this late in the year?  WHAT A YEAR!!  Daughter and son are healthy and happy, mom is hanging in there, I am making progress in every facet of my life (except one).  The job is going well, the house is coming along, the fitness is on an upswing, the peace of mind is co-existing well amongst all of my many multiple personalities, and my writing is steady in production (if not quality).  But by far, the biggest news of the year......my twenty year old son is planning on moving here to live with me.  Already the new year is looking rosy.  Bring it on, 2014, bring it on!

 

 

The tornado in my head has subsided (holiday tornado), so the only thing left to do is to pick up the debris and make something better.

If Only
by stu pidasso
23May2013

 

Torn within this world
twixt the life I love
and the life I lead
working my niner
to cover cost
of a shiner
and keep the thatching
over me head
showing up daily
to slave for the man
doing his bidding
as a hired hand
drawing and crunching
numbers and more
producing the plans
for rigs found offshore
and silently slaying
our beautiful Mother
if I could do so
I'd make it by other
ways and means
still counting the beans
that it takes to make these
damn ends meet
Let me tell you
it's no small feat!
but had I no worries
and if I were in
no dang hurries
I'd read literature
and epic poems all day
I'd write every night
from dusk 'til first light
about any and all
joy, lover or sprite
and the unseen things
that keep our minds
wandering and wondering
'bout just what it might
take to hold sway
over the powers these days
that choose the fate of our world
for all that I wish
is a smile and a kiss
and a tomorrow for
my strong boy and
my beautiful girl.

Missing In Actuality....

Yes, I have been lax in my duties of posting.  Yes, I have been running short on time lately.  Yes, I do have a few peeps that check in occasionally to see if I've done anything.  But, I have NOT been quiet with my quill and ink.  I have been writing, just not posting.

I have been lost in my beer (can you see the skulls in it?)!

That should be changing shortly.

And, although, I've been missing here and missing you all, I have not been missing in actuality.

Right on!  Write on!

And the winner is.....

Together

by stu pidasso

7Nov2012

Today brings the finish to another four years

Some winners and losers, some cheers and tears

We have the decision, it's time to compromise

Together we can stride forward, together we can rise

This nation can continue to grow and to show

That despite adversity we remain ready to go

Together we all can roll up our shirt sleeves

And march on united by common beliefs

Together we can rebuild what has been torn down

Together we can strengthen each city and town

Together we can feed our veterans and our old

We can replant our crops, we can weather the cold

Together we can educate all of our young

Together we can right the wrongs that are done

Together we can protect the ones whom we love

And our right to worship whom we think is above

Together we can agree to civilly disagree

Exactly what makes up each person's family

Together we can live and let live peaceably

Each paying their share by working honestly

together we can knuckle down and swallow our pride

together we can do our best to enjoy the short ride

together we can keep driving and shifting those gears

for the chance to vote comes again in four more years

As an added footnote (forgotten in the race of yesterday's pace), this was a dual assignment poem written using the three words offered at Three Word Wednesday and using the poem theme offered at Robert Lee Brewer's Poetic Asides Blog on the Wriers Digest site.

A smile washes over me like a short downpour....

Summer Shower

by stu pidasso

10July2012

I sweep away the dry Mudville dust

in my garden (it is so hot I cussed).

Aided by the rain, a gentle shower,

A cool refrain for a summer flower.

Zephyr fleeting, cools the bloom

upon their meeting in my green room.

I pause to ponder and wipe sweat from eye

when in does wander a lovely butterfly.

She flits and weaves up high and down low

and quickly leaves having kissed my shadow.

With butterfly and breeze, blossom and raindrop,

beauty chooses to tease this old man non-stop.

How to spend a lazy Sunday...

One of the necessities of life, food, they say is the way to a man's heart.  They might be wrong, they might be right, but if one knows how to cook, that person will always have friends willing to hang out and sample the end results.  Whether throwing together a simple salad (my sis-in-law, Mel, makes awesome salads) or cooking a seven course meal, Knowing how to prep, cook and serve a meal to others is a valuable set of skills to have.

Recently, I received one of my Texas Monthly issues and the best article in the magazine was about food....Texas food!  It had a list of ten dishes that any "self-respecting" Texan should be able to cook.  It even gave a tool list for the chef as a recommendation to obtain and with which to become proficient.

I have been practicing my cooking and grilling for a few years now and have achieved some wonderful results with my ribs, dove poppers and shrimp boils, specifically, and most recipes I've attempted, in general.  However, I was woefully lacking when it came to the dishes suggested by the article.  I can remember my mother cooking most of them, but I had very little experience serving, for instance, enchiladas.  Never done it.  Fried chicken?   Zero attempts.  Homemade chicken fried steak?  Never even crossed my mind to try it.  Brisket?  Brisket.  BRISKET!!  Only in my dreams.

One of my buddies has heard this story, and he invited me over to watch and help him cook a brisket.

The above slide show is his short story.  I hope you all enjoy watching this as much as I enjoyed the lesson.

Just For you...

Acts of Random Kindness

by stu pidasso

2May2012

Dancing through the supermarket
with wildflowers in his hand
pausing at each girl and woman
just long enough to land
he is sharing nature's bounty
one beautiful bloom at a time
he flits away just as suddenly
a joyous butterfly pantomime

He loves to stroll the neighborhoods
picking up Mother's paintbrushes
whisking them off to who knows where
to help elicit spontaneous blushes
he transportss his magnificent cargo
to those who seem in need
hoping to make this world better
by sowing happiness, seed by seed

Sing, dance

laugh play

the Smile Fairy

is on the way

Sprinkling flowers

this sunny day

in acts of random kindness

These kaleidoscopes of color
These gifts kissed by the sun
are little spots of wonderfulness
put here on Earth for everyone
No matter a person's emotional state
Scared, sad, glad, mad or confused
an unexpected "masterpiece of art"
is guaranteed to leave anyone amused

You, too, can be a Smile Fairy
and deliver good will each day
all that is required of you
is that you take a brief foray
out into this amazing place
which seems to slip the busy mind
and carry some of that color off
just to leave it once more behind

Sing, dance

laugh and play

the Smile Fairy

is on the way

sprinkling flowers

this sunny day

in acts of random kindness

It is what I do....

I am a weekend father.
It is a fate I made for myself.
I have a son and a daughter,
and I love both of them dearly.

My daughter and I talk rugby,
we talk music and we laugh.
I read the Harry Potter series,
not because I care about Harry
or He Who Shall Not Be Named;
but so I would have something
to talk about with her.
She steals my favorite music compact discs
and my favorite t-shirts.
She amazes me with her independence.
She has flown the nest
and she soars in the skies.
I smile every time her shadow crosses mine.

My father died ten years ago,
and I wish I could talk with him,
or ask him a few questions,
or solicit his advice on this or that.
He once said,
"How cruelly these tiny fingers
grip my heart."
But he is gone,
and the only whispers I get from him
are when I think of what he would do
in the situation I am facing at the moment.

My son and I don't speak much.
I text him in the midnight hours,
I write letters to him in French and Spanish.
I travel across Texas to see him,
just so that I can hug him or shake his hand,
and I enjoy putting money in his pocket.
I love him more than I think he realizes,
but he seems to be in his own world.

I would let them spend the night in jail
if they were arrested.
I would whip their backsides heartily
if they were to get caught with drugs.
I would take their electronics or books and hide them
if they were to get failing grades in school,
not because I want to punish them
or to see them suffer hardship,
but because I want them to succeed,
because I want them to know right from wrong,
because I want them to realize
that life and time and opportunities
are precious and come very rarely
to those who work hard and persevere
and almost never to those who don't.

But the most agonizingly painful way
in which I exhibit my love for them
is to wait for them to come back to visit,
without losing my faith,
my patience,
or my focus
on loving them to the fullest
my heart can manage.

So I wait.

I'm gonna dance during these holidays!

Loss is inevitable.

Over the course of my life, so far, I've lost plenty. I've cried over that spilt milk and then some, but the pain ebbs and life moves on as it is known to do.

Why the sudden urge to write about such a normal, yet depressing event in most every one's experiences?

Because Marley died.

I was channel flip-flopping between the Forty-niners/Steelers game and Marley and Me last night (that's an emotional roller coaster, right?!). I was riding that pendulum swing back and forth from sports enthusiasm to tear-jerking, Kleenex destroying and enjoying every minute of both. Marley, as a fictional dog, was one crazy beast. He was all energy, all heart, all love and all rolled up into one big ball of yellow Labrador. The movie made me think of my own best friend, Brutus

Once the movie got my mind reminiscing on Brutus, gradually, it progressed to other personalities that have graced my life. I thought of my dad, my kids, my ex-wife, a lot of my old friends and many of the relatives that I knew well or barely at all.

I've lost a lot and watching Owen Wilson and Jennifer Aniston, with their movie family, mourn the impending and eventual passing of a loved family member and pet just tugged at my heart strings. But this story line and their process of dealing with that loss as it is occurring is part of what makes the movie a really enjoyable movie (I am told the book is really good, as well).

There is a plethora of wisdom out in this huge world for dealing with those losses. Plenty of experiences have happened to help shed light on living life and rolling with the punches as we go. One of the sayings that comes to mind during last nights emotional moments, was that we shouldn't cry because what we had is gone. Rather, we should smile because what we had was there and we got the privilege of enjoying it. I smile because I got to play with my boy, Brutus. We got to hunt together and take trans-Texas road trips. We chased rabbits and played in the rivers across this great state. We endured injuries and rain storms; enjoyed having little "me"s and suffered through losing little "me"s, we spent time with my dad and mom, my ex-wife, and each other.

I rescued him from a mean person and, in a way, he did the same for me.

Brutus was my Marley, and now he sleeps under the front tree at my house, just as Marley sleeps outside their house in the movie.

This holiday season, I'll spill a little bit of love on his grave and I'll spill a little love on my dad's grave. I'll lift a glass to family and friends who, although they may have slipped from my life for the time, are there none the less. I'll hug the ones that are here and share a bit of cheer and smile because I know and love them.

Yes, loss is inevitable for every human; but how we deal with those losses is up to each and every one of us. Celebrate the lives you've touched and been touched by over the years.

I see dancing in your future....

Fortune Cookie Advice
by stu pidasso
14Sept2011

An omission of action can ease a tense situation.
Sometimes a step backward can be two steps forward.

I wrote this poem this morning to participate in the Wednesday Poetry Prompt at Poetic Asides with Robert Lee Brewer. I used the three words given at Three Word Wednesday and had some fun photo shopping the fortune cookie to meet my vision in my head. Usually if you prolong making choices in your life, life makes choices for you. This time it worked out for me. But I tell my kids to make their life the way they want it, not to take their life as it comes.

Possible edits to this post to come later today. Have a great Wednesday!

Weekend warriors...

The Ruck
by stu pidasso
1Sept2011

Muscles taut
sinews twitching
a Maori
dance of dominance
laughing sweating bleeding
all over a ball

He shoots. HE SCORES!!

Called Home

by stu pidasso
1Sept2011

With penetrated heart,
the hero did depart.
Dragged by valkyrie;
he mumbled,
"Thou art...
...beautiful."

Today's offering satisfies (in my mind, at least) the poetry challenges from three, count them, three different poetry sites. Check out Laura Purdie Salas' 15 Words or Less poetry exercise on Thursdays, as well as Three Word Wednesday and Wednesday's Poetry Challenge with Robert Lee Brewer over at Poetic Asides.

Per instructions, I had to write an "out of this world" poem using the three words provided (drag, mumble, penetrate) and use the picture above as a start point. I think the fifteen word "short" about a dying hero going to Valhalla covers all three bases. What do you think?

They're coming down like rain drops...

One of my nieces, as well as my daughter, is off at college now; away from home for the first time. She is a bit homesick and misses her mother badly. I am not sure if the kids realize that we, as parents, miss them as much if not more than they miss us.


Cheer up young one and embrace your future and the adventures it brings. Relax and take comfort that there is a safety net "under" you.

Homesick Blues To Lose

by stu pidasso

30August2011

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

and road trips taken home from yonder

give those loved ones reason to ponder

why their cherished must leave and wander.

But the safe nest is found too small

to hold your dreams and hopes so tall

fly you must though risk the fall

and return a later day to them all

For now, hold your weary head up high

remember that we all sometimes cry

and the time you are gone will slip by

as they wait to welcome 'morphed butterfly

For as Hugo wrote of butterfly and flower,

tested is each and every parents power

to wait patiently each week, day and hour

for their butterfly's return, like refreshing shower.