Archive for the ‘1. JGrace Musings’ Category
will outlive me.
are still the same size, but you
thickened, supple no longer. Our trunks
already home. Thirty years later, We have
and Mom is calling, “time to come in, but I am
I wake to step on clawing fingers of neighborhood boys,
the world, and sleep, for daring seconds, in trust up above.
then with hushed movements, as walkers pass, I sit atop
Potato chips and stolen cookies are a treetop feast,
stealthily down, to settle in strong branches.
fling me to exposed roots, so I slide
and I am a breeze. You threaten to
your branches sway wildly
and higher, till
leg up, boost
I jump, swing my
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There are some homes
you can never leave.
Their grass will always be greener.
You walk on floors
to the center of the earth.
The water from their taps
come from the spring
of your deepest dreams.
The trees have grown beside you,
and you know you would
never cut them down.
Is it my imagination, or are those palms
drooping lower? Edges of shrubs starting
to brown? Is this the way yards mourn?
Some houses you can never leave.
You move the furniture out
but the pieces remain, invisible.
and now your footsteps
across rugless expanses
Butterflies fly in and out,
They don’t live here anyway.
The patio, empty of furniture,
is a striped shadow of minutes
Draw the curtains over unmet dreams:
that book you never got
the lover who was once
in your bed
who never came back.
The house holds your orgasms
as they echos through empty rooms
looking for you.
Some houses you can never leave.
They come back to taunt you as you
look for a new house,
lovely and pale, but most inferior
with too much dust,
creaking and reeking of the past owners.
They are pale, mere shadows
of the real arches and posts
that drove your life home,
as you bustled in and out
without ever thinking
you would leave.
You almost wish you had burned it down
that time you charred beans
filled it with smoke,
and now you are alarmed
with every ounce of longing
as you close the door behind you.
You do not see but it is breaking,
ready to follow you
with wood and beams clattering in a parade
like cheerleaders urging you to find
and a steady spot.
You swing open the gate
but you too start
No wonder, the new owners
won’t feel at home.
Because your spirit has never left.
Imagine you have a square meter or two of space to bury preps, in your small yard,
what would you bury?
Let’s assume the worst; that you bugged out and in the interval the hordes came and completely trashed your house.
When you returned there was permanent economic collapse.
So what would you be sure to put in the ground, if you had to start all over
again, living from your hidden preps?
Here are some suggestions from various friends.
1. 10 ounces gold in 1/10th ounce coins
2. Three box pack strike anywhere matches
3. Med kit with anti bacterial creams, compression bandages, penicillin, etc
4. Folding knife, razor knife, gutting knife, and a lanskey sharpener
5. sleeping bag with water proof outer shell
6. 5 pair moisture wicking socks
7. Portable water purification system
8. 2 pair leather gloves
9. 4 rolls toilet paper
10. $2500 cash in $5, $10 and $20 bills
Who lived longest in your family or extended family or circle of friends,
and what did they believe help them live longer than most?
In my family two men lived to be 98/97 years old.
One told me his secret was that he took an enema every day for more than 40 years. He was never critically ill, only a slight case of arthritis and didn’t particularly eat healthily, unless you consider TV dinners sustaining. He did have a great sense of humor and also was a musician, a pianist. Supposedly playing and listening to music adds years too.
The other went against the sheeple back in the 1930’s and decided he wanted to eat “whole foods”. To the ridicule and dismay of his family, he bought his whole grains at the animal feedlot. Yes he lived longer than anyone on his side of the family. He was also a musician.
I know there is a lot of “info” out there about who lives longest, but I’m not sure I believe much of anything except personal accounts, so let’s hear them.
I’m aiming for at least 100.