IRideAMagicalLadle

“Repressing your emotions is not the same as dealing with them,”  the wise sage said benignly to me,  as I struggled to close my overflowing chest. Grunting in exertion, I gave her the side-eye and said;  “Pass me that rope would you?  I'm going to need a bigger lock.”

The rain started to fall,  tapping across my brow like the chiming of a piano's keys.    As it washes away my sweat I wonder,      will it take my worries with it?

“You lack conviction” the Villain uttered, and I believed him,   though couldn't tell you why.  I had the hopes and dreams, yet lacked the guts and grit to try, I even felt ambition's fever, burning brightly in my eye.  But through sloth and uncertainty, I felt the flames begin to die, I watched the hopes and dreams begin to sicked and disappear.  Pathetic covetousness replaced the gleam, that was once my pride, and even as I was I shrank back, in denial of my shameful hide.  I heard a world weary voice intone; “I lack conviction”  Damn its true then?  You weren't a villain but a guide?  Well w

There were ripples in the pond, that disturbed the lily pads just so. Was it from the fisher king, diving for his meal, or from a fish that swam too close, taking in the sky's view? Was it merely the wind, blowing north across, or was it a philosopher throwing pebbles, lost in gloomy thought? The ripples reached the rushes,   making music as they gently swayed, and I wondered; why can't I approached life that way?

“Oh no!” cried the mayor, “oh no!” cried the clerk,  “We've run out of Sassafras!   We've run out of Sassafras,   how could this calamity come to pass?” “Oh dear!” exclaimed the maid, shining up the brass. “How come?” piped the urchin, chewing on some gum.  Without our sassy Sass,  without our frassy Fras,  Doomsday will surely come to pass!

'Last will and testament'. No, as dark and grim as those words sound, I have seen too many of those to take them seriously. Oh maybe lawyers in their dusty studies surrounded by papers and ink imparted great importance on them, but not I. I, surrounded by bodies, rats, and human despair. Last will and testaments were for the rich, having lost control of their health, were frightened to loose control of their wealth. The poor and the dead had the rats, me and God.   “May the Lord have mercy on you”. I've heard that plenty of times, parents or loved ones whispering these words to the soon departed, the smell of purifying herbs and

Life is like a chasm, between the cliffs of Birth and Death, a canyon that goes on for eons.   Look there, it seems to be a bridge!   Marked 'Early Death'. It is like a toll bridge, the cost to cross the chasm so dear, a life-time mortgage really, but at a cost so high!   Surely there's another way?   So you're handed a coiled rope. How much is this? Oh nothing much, your blood, sweat, and tears, and possibly your best effort.   Wearily you take the rope,   and join the others making their decent,   slowly in their careful toil,   after all, there's still the other side to climb up! And after your perilous climb dow

After drinking too much strong tea, I went out into the garden. Dew speckled my lips, as I insisted on kissing every flower there, then I dashed back inside to write- chuckling. Imagining how cuckolded the humming bird would feel.

Rambling, gamboling lunatics, living by their sharpened quivering wits, spewing their inane foppish quips, I'd rather be cut to the quick- than deal with these rambling gamboling lunatics!