Cue the musical fanfare horn section, toss out the throw rug (admittedly this piece doesn't deserve the red carpet in some people's opinion) I hereby solemnly introduce -- re-introduce actually as it's been published on my former blog: the college poem which made my classmates groan!!! That's right! It's the one which rhymes EVERY line.
I, Wood.
My name is Woodrow.
I live in Buffalo.
Near Ohio,
Not Colorado.
I just ate an Oreo.
I found it on the window.
How long it's been there? I don't know.
Momma, in cleaning, has always been slow.
My Mom's name is Flo.
She watches her t.v. show:
"Search for Tomorrow"
I prefer "G.I. Joe"
I broke my toe.
I was playing with Daddy's hoe.
Eenie Meenie Mineey Moe
It fell on me when Billy let go.
I'd like to go to Tupelo,
but on board a boat I'd have to Stowe.
It'd have a motor, I hate to row.
I have no money, I'd need to owe.
My sister is the one who sews.
Except for seeds my uncle sows.
They ask me to work but I tell them no,
I'm headed out to catch a doe.
"Earn some dough!"
Yells Auntie Zoe
While doing so,
Cooks Chicken Gumbo
I used a bow
and arrow
to kill Yoko
Oh, no!
(revised May 13, 2010)
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
The Power of Words
If a picture is worth a thousand words, and the pen is mightier than the sword, doesn't it stand to reason that words can invoke infinite imagery?
The time has come for another dredging of my first blog, as I've been inspired again through words and I again reminisced about my college days. The following originally appeared on December 3, 2005:
**~**
There are many talented and thoughtful people in the world who share their talent with the rest of us who share not as broadly. Poets, sculptors, musicians, novelists, orators, talkshow hosts, comedians, blog writers...
I'll stick with writers for now for this entry. I was inspired tonight by a compact disc I've had for about ten years and never listened to until tonight called The United States of Poetry. Ladies and gentlemen there is such a diverse group on this earth. I grew up being told that's what makes us great. But I'm digressing. The real point I want to make is it reminded me of Poetry 101 at Susquehanna University, once nestled in the borough of Selinsgrove,PA but now has grown quite a bit since I graduated in 1996.
In this class were about 12-15 eager poets with ideas and convictions and a voice in their fingers which sometimes blew me away. After all, here were the next bards of rhyme with a sharp wit and biting sarcasm. Benders of irony (what an image, as when a blacksmith forges iron so do writers with words). Many of my contemporaries I admired for their words and mental images such words brought forth.
Then there was me, odd man out, the pop sell out poet who rhymed EVERY line in a poem making my classmates groan in painful disgust as if my ignorant childish creation had ripped out their hearts and left them beatless and torn jaggedly on the tabletop like forgotten thawing chicken breasts oozing goo. yeah.
This is what my blog was gonna be all about, thoughts and phrases and twists thereof. Profound thoughts for a moment's ponder, because they're not meant to be slept on really, more like a passing hmm. But feel free to let it grasp you. Should something really grab you, then continue to think about it. Let it brighten or sadden your day however you feel because once its out here its everybody's and you can keep your own little part of it as it applies to you. Like a song. (sharp turn of thought) Music is a mystical, wonderful entity and many feel this way. We each are touched in our own way by a song or note or lyric and we connect to it. Music isn't just passive, its dynamic, entrancing. Songwriters are poets and imagists too. Again I'm digressing.
Ultimately, this compact disc drew me in tonight with its words and support music, leading my brain from review to reminisce. And the irony is my ten year college graduation anniversary comes around in June 2006 and I wonder some days what happened to my classmates. Are my future world changers in power now? writing and invoking and provoking? or did they turn out to have traditional work overcome them and suffer among the bourgeoisie?
**~**
Since the above first appeared the Facebook phenomenon and my 10 year college reunion have both occurred. It turns out one of the above poets is a father and seemingly lives a normal life best I can gather.
As for the four year old 10 year reunion? There were so many classmates jammed into the private room at the venue I couldn't hear anyone and was entirely overwhelmed, winding up out on the sidewalk tables with six others who aren't mentioned above, but who are still awesome if not world changers.
The time has come for another dredging of my first blog, as I've been inspired again through words and I again reminisced about my college days. The following originally appeared on December 3, 2005:
**~**
There are many talented and thoughtful people in the world who share their talent with the rest of us who share not as broadly. Poets, sculptors, musicians, novelists, orators, talkshow hosts, comedians, blog writers...
I'll stick with writers for now for this entry. I was inspired tonight by a compact disc I've had for about ten years and never listened to until tonight called The United States of Poetry. Ladies and gentlemen there is such a diverse group on this earth. I grew up being told that's what makes us great. But I'm digressing. The real point I want to make is it reminded me of Poetry 101 at Susquehanna University, once nestled in the borough of Selinsgrove,PA but now has grown quite a bit since I graduated in 1996.
In this class were about 12-15 eager poets with ideas and convictions and a voice in their fingers which sometimes blew me away. After all, here were the next bards of rhyme with a sharp wit and biting sarcasm. Benders of irony (what an image, as when a blacksmith forges iron so do writers with words). Many of my contemporaries I admired for their words and mental images such words brought forth.
Then there was me, odd man out, the pop sell out poet who rhymed EVERY line in a poem making my classmates groan in painful disgust as if my ignorant childish creation had ripped out their hearts and left them beatless and torn jaggedly on the tabletop like forgotten thawing chicken breasts oozing goo. yeah.
This is what my blog was gonna be all about, thoughts and phrases and twists thereof. Profound thoughts for a moment's ponder, because they're not meant to be slept on really, more like a passing hmm. But feel free to let it grasp you. Should something really grab you, then continue to think about it. Let it brighten or sadden your day however you feel because once its out here its everybody's and you can keep your own little part of it as it applies to you. Like a song. (sharp turn of thought) Music is a mystical, wonderful entity and many feel this way. We each are touched in our own way by a song or note or lyric and we connect to it. Music isn't just passive, its dynamic, entrancing. Songwriters are poets and imagists too. Again I'm digressing.
Ultimately, this compact disc drew me in tonight with its words and support music, leading my brain from review to reminisce. And the irony is my ten year college graduation anniversary comes around in June 2006 and I wonder some days what happened to my classmates. Are my future world changers in power now? writing and invoking and provoking? or did they turn out to have traditional work overcome them and suffer among the bourgeoisie?
**~**
Since the above first appeared the Facebook phenomenon and my 10 year college reunion have both occurred. It turns out one of the above poets is a father and seemingly lives a normal life best I can gather.
As for the four year old 10 year reunion? There were so many classmates jammed into the private room at the venue I couldn't hear anyone and was entirely overwhelmed, winding up out on the sidewalk tables with six others who aren't mentioned above, but who are still awesome if not world changers.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Number 3's Revenge
It's well established I like trains.
It's not so well established I'm a professional railroader. Yes, I get to work on life sized real trains, as a brakeman in a stone quarry.
When I was promoted to this position in 1999, there were two pretty tired small locomotives, number 3 and number 5. Throughout that year we were swapping between the two because each would suffer some kind of crippling ailment.
In August 1999 our facility received an acquired used slightly larger small locomotive and number 3, being the more ailed of our two went into storage in 2002 (yes it took three years to be sure we wouldn't need her anymore).
Number 3 languished out back for another six years, becoming quite the habitat for insects and rodents (and a bird's nest for a little while until a predator discovered it).
Fast forward to 2008. Old Number 3 is finally getting attention again, albeit the wrong kind if you're a locomotive with operating aspirations.
That's right, Number 3 was getting dismantled. The parts in good order which were becoming hard to find on the market would be saved and the rest sold to a new home or scrap.
But priorities shifted, and like that purply-bruised and swollen prize fighter in the eighth round, near the end of his stamina, Number 3 got a stay of execution so to speak. Dismantling work was stopped.
Skip 2009 to today. Near the end of the shift, some parts were wanted for a project and so myself and two others crowded the dilapidated cab and wrestled the pieces loose. In addition the remaining headlight shroud and glass were needed -- but wouldn't budge (the whole reason they were left on two years ago actually). Today the bracket met a hacksaw, but upon finishing an asphyxiating cough overcame me as I clung to the front railings of Number 3.
Perhaps we'd stirred up microscopic dust particles, or maybe particulate matter of a more serious nature. Whatever the cause, Number 3 got in a lick of her own before the bell rang marking the end of this next round, exacting if for just a moment a bit of her own revenge.
It's not so well established I'm a professional railroader. Yes, I get to work on life sized real trains, as a brakeman in a stone quarry.
When I was promoted to this position in 1999, there were two pretty tired small locomotives, number 3 and number 5. Throughout that year we were swapping between the two because each would suffer some kind of crippling ailment.
In August 1999 our facility received an acquired used slightly larger small locomotive and number 3, being the more ailed of our two went into storage in 2002 (yes it took three years to be sure we wouldn't need her anymore).
Number 3 languished out back for another six years, becoming quite the habitat for insects and rodents (and a bird's nest for a little while until a predator discovered it).
Fast forward to 2008. Old Number 3 is finally getting attention again, albeit the wrong kind if you're a locomotive with operating aspirations.
That's right, Number 3 was getting dismantled. The parts in good order which were becoming hard to find on the market would be saved and the rest sold to a new home or scrap.
But priorities shifted, and like that purply-bruised and swollen prize fighter in the eighth round, near the end of his stamina, Number 3 got a stay of execution so to speak. Dismantling work was stopped.
Skip 2009 to today. Near the end of the shift, some parts were wanted for a project and so myself and two others crowded the dilapidated cab and wrestled the pieces loose. In addition the remaining headlight shroud and glass were needed -- but wouldn't budge (the whole reason they were left on two years ago actually). Today the bracket met a hacksaw, but upon finishing an asphyxiating cough overcame me as I clung to the front railings of Number 3.
Perhaps we'd stirred up microscopic dust particles, or maybe particulate matter of a more serious nature. Whatever the cause, Number 3 got in a lick of her own before the bell rang marking the end of this next round, exacting if for just a moment a bit of her own revenge.
Friday, April 30, 2010
I'm Still Here, I'm Just Feuding with My I.S.P.
Well, through my own stupidity, my account became disconnected. But not just disconnected, it was as if I had disappeared. Well, I hadn't, but it didn't matter.
I've been fighting, frustratedly for nine days to get my account reactivated, and need to wait another three.
Just saying, if I were this slow in my job, I'd have been fired.
I promised I wouldn't complain here on Fleeting History, but I felt all y'all deserved to know what happened to me.
See you soon.
I've been fighting, frustratedly for nine days to get my account reactivated, and need to wait another three.
Just saying, if I were this slow in my job, I'd have been fired.
I promised I wouldn't complain here on Fleeting History, but I felt all y'all deserved to know what happened to me.
See you soon.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Beautiful Blogger
The secret's out. I'm a beautiful blogger. Okay, yes I look scary in a little black dress and heels...I'm not talking THAT kind of beautiful.
Feral Female of Thoughts From a Yodeling Goatherder http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/
awarded me with the beautiful blogger award and I thank her very much. I'm quite honored to have been bestowed with such a prestigious offering.
Ten things about myself, in order of how they came to mind (not in order of importance or relevance)
1. After 5 pm I am unable to do math.
2. I really like trains and enjoy photographing them.
3. Despite being scared out of my wits at the tender age of six, I really, REALLY love Halloween and everything associated with it; especially haunted attractions and the costumes.
4. Although I have a crippling case of claustrophobia, I like spelunking.
5. Pizza, 'Nuff Said.
6. I harbor a secret desire to be a world famous musician/singer
7. I'm an award winning documentarian (don't bother looking for it on Amazon or E-bay, it was a high school project...)
8. Timothy Leary's dead -- oops, this is supposed to be about me ;-)
9. My favorite color is blue.
10. I accidentally dumped the same carton of french fries into my lap at a Mass Pike rest stop twice during dinner.
There's my top ten, er...well they aren't all in my top ten, and they're not even my ten best or greatest hits even. But they're ten things about me, and one concerning a 1960's pop culture icon. Hopefully, you've learned something new about me. There may or may not be a quiz...
Now, some of these blogs aren't necessarily beautiful, but they are what I read:
http://bobbyderailed.blogspot.com/
http://www.nanosphoto.com/blog/
http://www.thebadassgeek.com/
Now, I went exploring, because it wasn't fair of me to not discover new blogs. In doing so I discovered all kinds of families sharing their lives, on-line versions of baby books (should I rephrase and say on-line biographies of a child's life written by a parent?), the ubiquitous fashion bloggers, foreign sites written in all blank squares, a version of the beautiful blogger in which the recipient must post seven items one finds beautiful and pass on to seven new recipients (hmm and I thought I would be the one perverting the premise) and the occasional gem such as:
http://winedrunksidewalk.blogspot.com/
That's all I've got for now. I know there's other wonderfully enjoyable blogs waiting for me to find them, so off I go...
(for whatever reason links won't function. As usual you'll need to perform the labor intensive action of copying and pasting into an address bar to follow the URLs, sorry)
Feral Female of Thoughts From a Yodeling Goatherder http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/
awarded me with the beautiful blogger award and I thank her very much. I'm quite honored to have been bestowed with such a prestigious offering.
Ten things about myself, in order of how they came to mind (not in order of importance or relevance)
1. After 5 pm I am unable to do math.
2. I really like trains and enjoy photographing them.
3. Despite being scared out of my wits at the tender age of six, I really, REALLY love Halloween and everything associated with it; especially haunted attractions and the costumes.
4. Although I have a crippling case of claustrophobia, I like spelunking.
5. Pizza, 'Nuff Said.
6. I harbor a secret desire to be a world famous musician/singer
7. I'm an award winning documentarian (don't bother looking for it on Amazon or E-bay, it was a high school project...)
8. Timothy Leary's dead -- oops, this is supposed to be about me ;-)
9. My favorite color is blue.
10. I accidentally dumped the same carton of french fries into my lap at a Mass Pike rest stop twice during dinner.
There's my top ten, er...well they aren't all in my top ten, and they're not even my ten best or greatest hits even. But they're ten things about me, and one concerning a 1960's pop culture icon. Hopefully, you've learned something new about me. There may or may not be a quiz...
Now, some of these blogs aren't necessarily beautiful, but they are what I read:
http://bobbyderailed.blogspot.com/
http://www.nanosphoto.com/blog/
http://www.thebadassgeek.com/
Now, I went exploring, because it wasn't fair of me to not discover new blogs. In doing so I discovered all kinds of families sharing their lives, on-line versions of baby books (should I rephrase and say on-line biographies of a child's life written by a parent?), the ubiquitous fashion bloggers, foreign sites written in all blank squares, a version of the beautiful blogger in which the recipient must post seven items one finds beautiful and pass on to seven new recipients (hmm and I thought I would be the one perverting the premise) and the occasional gem such as:
http://winedrunksidewalk.blogspot.com/
That's all I've got for now. I know there's other wonderfully enjoyable blogs waiting for me to find them, so off I go...
(for whatever reason links won't function. As usual you'll need to perform the labor intensive action of copying and pasting into an address bar to follow the URLs, sorry)
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Spring Evenings
There's something about a cool but sunny evening, between 4 and 9 pm that is really magical. Creatures and people mingle (not necessarily mixing together mind you but among their own species). Maybe it's a special dinner or a fun activity. Maybe it's the tranquility of a blissful sunset and/or the excitement of what's to come in the nighttime. Whatever the je ne sais quoi, it spurns the sentimentalist in me. Tonight as I tried to discover its origins in me I found myself recalling my Freshman year in college, after a month of gray and overcast days, after most of a semester feeling down, the sun came out one evening and I just sat in the windowsill of the dorm building's lounge for some time.
Another recollection was a Saturday evening in my parents' basement operating the HO gauge model trains listening to the radio and killing time waiting for pizza.
Maybe it's the warm fresh air after a Winter of cabin fever, when folks can finally get out and socialize for hours and hours into the night laughing and partying and playing Frisbee or Wiffle ball in their yards.
Whatever it happens to be, on those nights, it's a wonderful thing.
Another recollection was a Saturday evening in my parents' basement operating the HO gauge model trains listening to the radio and killing time waiting for pizza.
Maybe it's the warm fresh air after a Winter of cabin fever, when folks can finally get out and socialize for hours and hours into the night laughing and partying and playing Frisbee or Wiffle ball in their yards.
Whatever it happens to be, on those nights, it's a wonderful thing.
Monday, April 5, 2010
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