Poetry Challenge, V. 6.0, Days 6,7,8

It's been a strange week, and probably only going to get stranger....Nothing bad has happened, I just feel like I'm in a sort of fog...sometimes, that's great fodder for writing poems, and sometimes, it's not.  I'm rather hoping for the former!!

Meditation

eyes closed,

seeking the place,

that quiet spot, 

the center.

where nothing touches me,

and thoughts become form

in the quietness of the moment.

Ghetto

I get looks

rumbling through the 

dirty streets.

past cars that don't run,

my music blasting loud enough to rattle the windows

on houses where windows are covered inside with plywood

even though there's nothing wrong with the glass.

heads turn as I roll by,

but I will not return the blank gazes,

the angry stares,

as the Requiem plays.

Quick Trip Through Walmart

Deck of cards,

Murphy's Oil Soap

Paint brush,

Shoe polish

Underwear

And a bag of cookies.

The clerk said, "Who polishes shoes anymore?"

and that actually catches me up!!  YAY!!!!  Ok, hopefully, I'll stay in this zone and actually write tomorrow's tomorrow!!

Thanks for reading,

The Fat Kid

Poetry Challenge, V. 6.0, days 4 and 5

Hmmm...thus far, my timely posts are...ummm..not so timely.  It happens when you travel a little, and so I shouldn't really be upset or anything, but it feels a little lame, to be honest - publishing every other day or, in this case, two publishings in a day...I'll have to figure it out how to do this better!!  But while I'm doing that, here's a little something to tide you over, readers!!

At the end of the street there is a house,

lonely and sad, the facade a record of neglect.

The weeds choke the once-lush landscaping, 

the walkway crumbles under my feet

as I quietly approach the door.

Neighbors look on, shaking their heads - 

they don't know how I can live here.

They don't see the paradise that lies behind those doors, 

the beauty of the imperfect, 

they do not understand the choice.

And I will not teach them.

And number 2 today.....

Sing-song, sing-song,

the little birds flit about,

their voices carry over the fields,

between the brush and brambles,

ringing loud and clear the song of spring,

the beckoning of life returning,

and moving onward, forward, becoming greater than it was.

And I cannot help but think the little birds know something that I have long ago forgotten.

I little vague, a little sobering I suppose, but hey, that's installment one for the day.  Ideally, I'll get back on track later!!!!

As always,

Thanks for reading!

The Fat Kid

Poetry challenge, V6.0, Day Two and Three

Making today's intro fast and getting right to the poetry because: 1) no time 2) too many stupid people and I "just can't even" 3) I actually HAD a post for yesterday, but technology wasn't complying (read as: I couldn't figure out how to copy and paste from my phone notes into here) 4) all of the above.

So, yeah, the first two-fer of the yearly challenge!!!


The skeleton limbs of the hawthorn
nearly naked in the cold glow of a winter sun
stand sentry over the silent gardens
that await the coming spring.
Red berries on the tips,
like claws drenched in the blood of autumn past,
reminders of the life that sits just beneath the surface,
biding its time until the the spring rains.
Friends, not enemies, each bringing hope to the other,
Seasons in congress, ever aware of one another,
of the secret vibrancy that lurks just out of reach.



Resume`

The hands tell a story:
a sliver here, a slip of the chisel there,
a scrape of a knuckle because that screw was simply too difficult to reach
and my hand was too big.
Here was the place the padauk was stuck - it's poisonous if allowed into the bloodstream -
like cocobolo dust - a carcinogen.
This was from that earring hanger,
that, from a nightstand,
And that spot under the nail that's slowly moving forward -
a hammer slip courtesy of the coffee table.
So many little things,
most of them, gifts
that give back to me permanent memories,
worn on my hands.


Thanks for reading!!

The Fat Kid

Annual Poetry Challenge, V.6.0 Day 1

Oh SNAP!  It's April, and if you've ever followed me for any length of time, you probably know that means  it's national Poetry Month, and that I will once again take up the challenge:  What is this challenge?  I'm glad you asked!  Simply put - each day, I am to come up with an original poem which has never been seen before.  There is no set length (so haikus count!) rhyme scheme, or anything like that.  It's simply an exercise in the creative process.  Often, the poems that appear here are off-the-cuff things that cross my mind.  They tend to be based on outsidey-type things, because that's the kind of stuff I love.  Sometimes, these can get pretty dark and twisted, though I tend to shy away from that.

With that said - I take requests.  No, I don't play "stump the poet" - so requests that ask "Can you write a poem that involves a block and tackle, a toothbrush, an aardvark, and three references to True Blood?"  will be promptly thrown out.  Sure, I COULD do it....but nobody wants to read that.  I was asked to write a lullaby once, though, and that worked pretty well.

ALSO - if anyone is up to doing this with me, I humbly invite you now.  You can do the whole challenge, you can do one week, once a week...I don't care - do what feels right for you!  It's all good fun!

SO, let's get to some poetry, huh?

Memory

It's funny
          how I can recall
                 so many things
                             that never really mattered:
                                   sitting in the old tree outside the farmhouse,
                                   that failed hide-and seek moment,
                                   the perfume of a pretty girl,
                                   that all happened years ago -
                             but I can't
                  even begin
            to guess at
Yesterday.


I look forward to comments, challenges, and people joining me!!!

Thanks for reading!!

The Fat Kid

Attack The Monday

It's Monday morning again.  I hate Mondays.  Like so many of us, I have kind of always hated Mondays.  I don't have any specific dread of them, it's just that it's back to work, and the weekend must come to an end, so Monday is always a little sad.

There are some people who do not agree, and believe that Mondays are fascinating things, to be longed for and chased after as though they were a golden retriever and Mondays were the brand new favorite toy.  I rather think that Mondays are like a George R.R. Martin novel, in which you better not like it, because death and dismemberment will surely follow close upon the heels of you liking it.  Yes, Monday is coming.

But I had a thought this weekend, and it seemed rather appropriate for this week.  Indeed, as it is the new year, perhaps it's time to look at things in a new way, to take a different standpoint on things.  Particularly, on Mondays.  What if, instead of dreading the day, or letting the gloom of the mundane (hmmm...mundane, Monday....) get to me, I did something a little different, and met Monday as a challenge?

In this, it's not much different than climbing hills on a bike.  What?  If you've ever read this blog, you know I like to bike, so this reference should come as no surprise.  But seriously - hill climbing.  When you see a hill off in the distance, you can approach it one of two ways:  with a sense of dread, or with a sense of challenge.  When you approach a hill with a sense of dread, the hill is already too steep to climb.  You're so focused on the pain that you do not see the easy line up the road, you miss the cadence, and every single turn of the crank becomes an agonizing chore.  All that is in your mind is how hard it is, and that only makes the hill harder to ride.

When, you approach the hill with the thought that you will get up it, get over it, and move on to better things, There is room to focus on your cadence, to see where the easy line of ascent is on the road, and to power through effectively.  It's not to say that the climb doesn't hurt, and that it's easy or fast - merely that those thoughts do not occupy your mind.  In a way, it's very much a "mind-over-matter" scenario.  The "can-do" attitude is important for climbing.

It's important for Mondays, too.  So, starting today, I'm not going to dread Mondays.  I'm going to attack Mondays.  I'm going to meet them head-on, with a bull-rush if necessary.  I see that hill ahead of me, and I will prepare my mind to conquer it, and it will be conquered.  It begins with the simple things.  Shirt and tie.  Getting things moving early.  Jumping on Monday like it's the Alpe d'Huez and I can take the yellow jersey.  I own you, Monday!!

It Was a Very Good Year...

Oh, 2014!  It seems you were just beginning, in some ways, and in others, boy were you a lot of fun!  The Fat Kid has had a lot of things happen this year - some were tremendous, like marrying my best friend, and some were tragic, like saying farewell to my grandmother and my aunt.  In both the good and bad things, this year has been a wild ride, and one for which I am grateful.

The good:  Wedding planning is over!  Yup, my love and I were united in holy matrimony in September, and it was pretty darned amazing.  It was also a lot of work, as we did as much of it as we could ourselves.  We are most grateful for the countless hands that helped us with everything, especially all the family and friends that were press-ganged into service for decorating and other minutiae of that weekend!

In October, we took off for the sunny lands of Louisiana, to honeymoon in New Orleans.  Vampires and jazz, baby!!!  A week of sunny and 75 when home was cloudy and 42 certainly makes us long to make a dramatic move to the southern climate!  I would say it's too bad we don't know anyone there, but, well, having met so many fantastic people there already, I'm not sure if I can claim that!!  Seriously, if you ever find yourself wanting to visit a party town where you can choose the kind of partying you get to do, I highly recommend NOLA.  Great people, fun times, fantastic music, amazing history, spectacular food, and even though I mentioned it once, GREAT PEOPLE (they're THAT awesome.)

We said good-by to my grandmother this year.  She was a pretty amazing woman, and I miss hearing stories over and over and over and...well, ok, maybe I don't miss it completely...I think I miss the opportunity to hear all those old stories again, more than anything else.  Her parting gift to me is an opportunity I shall talk more about later.

Saying farewell to my aunt this fall was equally as challenging, and equally painful.  It's never fun to lose anyone, and to lose them to something as insidious as cancer sometimes makes me mad.  I remember, though, that my aunt was a woman of inestimable grace.  She knew how to be content with being simple, and that is a rare gift indeed.  Her greatest lesson to me is in how to live simply and be content with the hand you're dealt.

Other good things:  KITTEH!  Yeah, we adopted a kitten this year, and she supplies our life with laughter, frustration, mild annoyance,  She came to us through a funny story:  My now brother-in-law had a couple cats who...well...got busy while he was out one day, and a bit later, a litter of kittens appeared.  So, one of the littles was given to us, and we are now the proud parents of a tortoise-shell kitten/ hellspawn of mischief.

Well, those are the highlights...except for that opportunity I spoke about before.  I'm pleased to announce that I will be going forward with plans to launch Bellissimo Custom Works as a secondary source of income.  This stemmed from my grandmother, in a way, for the box I made for her a couple years ago is now serving as the vessel in which her ashes are housed.  It promises to be an adventurous new beginning, but it is one that I am very anxious to pursue.

So, BRING IT ON, 2015!  THAT'S what you have to beat, and frankly, I'm not sure you can.  But do your worst, for I will do mine.  Bring us the storms of life, the sorrows, too.  But know that I am  a storm myself, and I will take your challenges and turn them into something pretty.  I will see your challenges, and i will come out of them the victor.

May you all know peace in this new year, and may 2015 help you become more than you ever thought possible.  Happy New Year!!!!!

Thanks for Reading,
The Fat Kid

Heroes

There are many times through our lives, when, if we really stop and think about it, we meet people who are worthy of a little bit of hero worship.  As per my usual, this is my post MS150 evaluation - but with a twist:  this one is about all the heroes I met this weekend.  These are in no particular order, other than how they're coming to my mind.

Hero #1: Spider Man/ Batman.
     This guy was wearing a Spider Man kit (kit = the jersey and shorts you wear) on Day 1, and a Batman kit on day 2.  He's a big fella, and looked pretty muscular and fit.  Spider Man pulled a good ride on Saturday, but it looks like he emptied the tank.  Sunday, he really suffered.  When I met him the first time, I couldn't resist but to sing the Spider Man theme song, and he told me to practice my Batman theme song for the next day.  I was told that at every rest stop on day 2, even though he was suffering, there were kids who were THRILLED that Batman was there.  They were in awe of this guy.  He drew his strength from there, smiled, persevered, and finished.

Hero #2: Air Force Veteran.
     It's easy to say a Vet is a hero - he/she actually is, on many levels.  I came up on him and mentioned his Air Force jersey.  I asked if he was a Vet, and it turns out, he was in Vietnam.  We chatted for a short time, and he told a couple stories of how the USAF would station him in 6-month shifts in one location, then off to another, then back, etc.  He said, "There's nothing like getting to a new location like Japan, getting your combat pay, and blowing it all in a new city."  I think he said he was there from '72-'74.  I told him that my own father never talked much about it, stating to me once, "There's nothing good to remember about it, so why bring it up?"  He agreed.

Hero #3:  HandBike Guy.
     It's one thing to ride those miles using your legs - arguably the strongest muscles in the body.  But to do that in a handbike, where your arms are the driving force to propel you up all the hills???  That is courage and guts.  I don't know whether the guy's legs were paralyzed or not - and I thought it was rude to ask, and frankly, none of my business.  But the weight distribution is so vastly different on the handbike, that it takes some serious cajones to even try it.  He finished.

Hero #4: Fixed-Gear Riders.
     Kind of like the handbike guy, fixed gear riders are in for some pain on this ride.  Not being able to drop the gear on climbs pretty much states that you are a badass.  Seriously.  Tough stuff.  I shall never attempt anything like this.

Hero #5:  Schmoopsiepoo.
     OK - the Fat Kid is gonna get a little sappy here, perhaps to the point where you will want to vomit.  You've been warned.  But my bride-to-be did this event with me.  Shad had not slept well for the previous week.  Her nerves were shot with worry.  She had some biological x-chromosome-related issues.  And then - to top it all off, when we got to the starting location, she realized she forgot her cleats.  OK, for those who don't understand the importance of cleats, here you go: cleats enable you to stick your feet into your pedals so they can't come off with the generic movement of a pedal stroke.  It enables you to not only push DOWN on the crank, but to pull UP as well.  This decreases the pressure on certain muscle groups, saving your strength. She didn't have her cleats, so she could only push down.
     We had a strategy going in that relied on her having cleats.  Suddenly, that strategy was gone.  This is unsettling, to say the least.  She felt unprepared, nervous, and generally ill before this - now, she was approaching scared.  And she got on the bike, anyway.  Day 1 was 85 miles - and a lot of that was uphill, where being able to pull up on the crank is just as important as being able to push down.  She was in a lot of pain.
     Day 2 dawned and we were some of the last to make the start - seriously, there were maybe 10 people left on campus after us.The terrain was much simpler, though there were still a couple of nasty climbs to be ridden.  But on she pushed.  She found a group of riders to go with, and they pressed on.  The rain began when she still had 22 miles to go.  They actually closed the course because, well, it's NOT good to be on aluminum bikes in a lightning storm.  They eventually re-opened the course and let them finish in the rain.  She finished the course with a smile on her face.  Despite the problems - of which I only touched on - she still finished.  Heroic.
     Thank you, my love, for being my partner in this, as well as in life.  I've never had a partner in ANY of my riding efforts - just to have someone who will try it, let alone persevere the way you have...just one more reason you are my hero.  There are many more reasons.


OH, and for those wondering - I had a pretty good ride, too.  Ain't no shame in my game.  The course was very tough, once again, and there were moments when I really didn't want to keep going, but I did my damnedest.  For my team, I finished a very close second on Day 1 (only second by about 20 feet) and third on Day 2 by about 10 minutes.  Not bad.  Certainly acceptable.  I have yet to crunch the numbers, precisely, but I'm sure I will be pleased.  Possibly a new PR?  We'll see.

Thanks to all those who've supported us, both in monetary donations and in good wishes and positive thoughts.

Thanks for reading,

The Fat Kid