I don't know about you, but I have often wondered... Where the heck is the Brady Bunch House? (I used the word 'heck' out of respect for all the wholesomeness they bring into my life on Sundays...) I thought it was in Eagle Rock. I found out it is in Studio City. (You know, I watch… Continue reading Where is the Brandy Bunch House?
What is Poetry? You know, I never really analyzed it officially, like this. Although, I always did think it carried deeper meaning than everyday experiences. But, that isn't true, because poetry speaks about everything within bounds and without. I never thought I would be moved to write so much of it as I do now.… Continue reading What is Poetry?
We love who we do as so many of us do; for paying homage to the losers. Fading away into the Netherlands we will do. we remember not, because we must have done so time and time again. Upwards and outwards feelings dissipate far away gone someday, sucked into consciousness from whence we came unveiling… Continue reading Paying Homage to the Losers
Went to a shrink about thirty years ago. Barney who had a PhD. I really liked him, he was a great guy. He was also a professor at USC or UCLA. I don't remember which university. Anyway, he told me I was a Putzer (I guess he should know what a putzer was, being he… Continue reading The Eyes Have it
You might think you walk alone. Yes, you are exactly right. you do. you always have. You do walk by yourself as I do. But, we don't walk on the same path, only the same direction; like east, west, north and south. But, we two do walk alone with the many, with the few with the… Continue reading Walking Yiddish
What about praise for the putzer? He never gets his due, he only pays tribute. Things get done sooner or later. Or, they simply don't. Why not tomorrow instead of today? The problem with the world is deadlines. In construction there's always deadlines. The sooner you get the job done, the sooner they don't need you,… Continue reading Praise for the Putzer
An old man walked up to me and asked for ten dollars. I asked him why he needed it. He said he was retired and on a fixed income needing money for a prescription or some kind of medication I couldn't understand the name of. (what costs only ten dollars, these days, especially prescribed drugs?… Continue reading Ten Dollars
'Can I help you?' the salesperson asks... 'Yes, I think you can!' you reply. 'Well, what can I do for you?' 'Well, it's kinda' hard to put into words,' you say as it is so obvious you are holding the floodgate of tears back because he sees your teary eyes welling up. He's looking at… Continue reading Can I Help You?
la difference, that's how it goes... (women are the glue which bonds societies' fabric) We all work those jobs we do best and it does show a face familiar which has always been ordained long before we were put here. We've come prewired for tasks so separate although undivided it be that, different never gets things… Continue reading La Différence!
Poor unhappy soul, (you haven't found where it is hiding, but be reassured, it's there, because they found him and gave him a good hiding...) whatever gets you through your weary day... Is OK, for you somehow made your way home staggering as you do now dwelling for a short while in your creaky thrift… Continue reading Sitting Under the Poetry Dome