Did I do it right, Shakespeare?

Come forth, forgotten words of old! I summon thee!

Call upon the great odes and bring them back to me!

What is a blank page to a writer, but a vent for all her thoughts?

So, I tell thee, pen in my hand, bow to my overflowing plots!

What ails thou, gray matter in my skull, that makes thee hesitate?

Thou ail me, brains! Rally at once! ‘Tis no time to meditate!

Get on with the story! Thou know how it ends! And stories don’t write themselves!

Foul thou are, Blocks of Writers! Thou can go F*** yourselves!

The Cycle Continues

Shouts and squeals of laughter are shattering the air in the living room right now. These are the sounds of a 4-year-old boy jumping from the couch onto his father, who currently has his older bother in a tickle trap.

The rescue attempt backfires as daddy quickly demonstrates his strength. Then both boys are pinned and positively howling as they are tickled into breathless jelly.

The time comes, as I knew it would, when the wrestling match stops abruptly due to a careless movement or an untimely jump, leaving the wrestler crying and rubbing one of his limbs.

A few moments later, after the hurts are kissed and the crying stops, it starts all over again.

The cycle continues.

 

 

 

My Phoebe

20180913_101532Born on a stormy October night

Squealing and writhing with all her might.

From what I  could tell, she was a fine glutton.

She attached to that teat like it was nothin’.

6 long weeks later, I took her home.

That was the day I called her my own.

My Phoebe.

It didn’t take long for that pup to grow.

And it didn’t take long for me to know

No plate of food could be laid aside.

That guilty girl didn’t even hide.

I’d always find her licking her chops

Looking at me from bottom to top

My Phoebe.

I raised her into the dog she was.

The years went swiftly without much fuss.

She became my lovable pet and ass pain

The apple of my eye, my bulging jaw vein.

What else can I say? The girl was mine!

My little troublemaker divine!

My Phoebe.

The years went on and she got gray.

Her hair got whiter every day.

But despite it all she kept her spunk

My girl never went into a funk.

She growled at hardship and licked my tears

Every single day of her 12 years.

My Phoebe.

But the inevitable time came too quickly.

For the first time, my girl became very sickly.

Tried hard though we did, no help could be given.

It was too painful for her to keep living.

With a heavy heart and a dripping eye

I held my girl tightly and let her die.

My Phoebe.

4 months have gone by since she passed away.

I have gone on without her, so to say.

Considering it all, I thought I’ve done well.

My life is no longer a horrible hell.

Very strange, then, as I’m writing this

Tears fill my eyes as I reminisce

My Phoebe.

In loving memory of Phoebe the miniature schnauzer.

Born: October 28th, 2007

Died: July 15th, 2019

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Boon of Tom Yum Koong

Our town has a Thai restaurant. The place is clean, the prices are reasonable, and every dish is always prettily assembled with the intricacy of a chef who takes pride in his/her work.

But Reader, try though I did, I couldn’t find anything on the menu I enjoyed. I don’t know why.

But today, I decided to try again. It had been years, so I figured I’d give it another go.

I walked into the warmth of the restaurant and was greeted by a smiling woman who seated me and gave me a menu. It didn’t take me long before I read “Tom Yum Koong” in the soup section.

Having only heard of this dish and had mildly considered making it on occasion, I ordered it at once.

The steaming bowl set before me looked healthy; like something you’d find in a health-nut magazine. I picked up my spoon and braced myself as the first taste of the broth poured onto my tongue.

Wow!

The tang came first, like a piece of citrus fruit bursting in your cheeks. Next was the chili spice, warming my mouth and throat just as well as the temperature of the soup did.

Surprised but not at all disappointed, I dug right into the rest, tearing into the succulent shrimp and savoring the explosion of their flavor as I did so.

All too soon I saw the bottom of the bowl. But my stomach was still hungry and I craved for more.

The pork skewers came next. Nicely crispy and tender, with a delectable sauce that reminded me of teriyaki.

My stomach crooned its satisfaction after they were gone. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say Smaller Beth had to keep Fat Beth in a headlock as she asked the sweet waitress for the final bill.

I never thought it would happen, but I am now a fan of Thai food. Thank you, Tom Yum Koong, for helping me get here. 🙂

– Beth

 

 

What was I thinking with this one?

The sun goes down, the night swallows him whole.

Here sits a man who doubts he has a soul.

He waits for the voices to sound in his ear.

Like clockwork they chime, and visions appear.

Real or fake, it doesn’t matter in the least.

The man looks past the shapes and calls forth the Beast.

Bursting forth from the ground, he shatters the shadows.

Engulfed in flames, the foul beast demands what he’s owed.

The man stares into the eyes of all he had dreaded

The life he had traded for the path he was headed.

The man opens his lips to breathe his last breath.

Saying these words aloud before his painful death:

“Take me where I am wanted the most! And make me your first willing host.”

^^I wrote this a few months ago and have no idea why or what I was thinking. Funny thing is, I completely forgot about it. Lol! Knowing me, I had probably just watched a Dracula movie or something and was feeling morbidly inspired.

Thank you. I’m still laughing.

-Beth

Why Swearing Is Fun

What’s in a word until we make it unclean and wrong?

The looks on their faces as I spout them all day long!

Tell me what not to say and I’ll say it.

What’s that, my brother? It’s Mother? OH SHIT!

Forgive me, Mother, I did not see you there!

I really should have known better than to swear.

But wouldn’t it be better if we did not make such a fuss?

Then we might see that people would no longer bother to cuss.