Wotd baby

Baby

Before they came into my life

I was expecting to live fast and die before 45

Whoops that changed when I bought life insurance on them and myself

Before they came I was very self centered and felt I could just drop out of married life

Before the arrived I thought the title father would never be applied to me

Before they arrived I thought I knew what exhausted was

Before they arrived I knew that I didn’t know what love was about

Before they arrived I didn’t feel the need to ensure my legacy

Before they arrived I knew emptiness

Before they arrived bath time was a bottle of wine, candle and some jazz playing from the other room

Before they arrived is a place I never want to visit

Wotd slur

SlurWhen I played tuba in my high school orchestra, the notes blended together smoothly, velvetly. We were one voice and our audience was the target. 

The books I’ve read, both comics and straight literature, contained millions of words in various formats. I’ve lived my life studying the written page, and it all breaks down to 26 letters in various combinations. You’d think by now we’d have more letters at least. 

I’ve spoken billions upon billions of words, mostly pronounced correctly, mostly in English, some were from the page and some from my imagination.

I’ve dreamed amongst the best of them, fantasy and nightmares beyond reason or explaination. But can I tell you what I dreamed of last night, not a chance.

People have drifted into and out of my life on a daily basis, recalling their names if a gun was put to my head would lead to a quick death.

It seems to me this is all based on memory, and mine is faulty. Regurgitation of facts, poems, notes and melodies, nomenclature and fiction seems to be a poor way to truly live. 

I have 6300 pictures and videos of my daughters in hopes to provide them with a fixed point of remembrance, as they learn to dechiper language, music, art and life. 

Wotd rythmic

Today’s challenge is rythmic

I’m standing in the rain on a bridge crossing I95 facing south

The whoosh of the cars is infrequent as it is 3am on a Sunday

Sometimes it is long as they travel down the far right lane hitting the oh shit rumble strips with their tires thuda thuda thuda for a few seconds until they wake from their soft slumber and jerk the car to the left instinctually

Other times it reminds me of dragonflies whisping by, hurtling their metal bodies into the dark after a failed attempt at romance in the big city, they are trying g to escape the walk of shame or the knowing looks from strangers who always seem to know you came to quick or not at all

The late night CSX trains can be heard between the early morning wolfpack commuters, the churning struggle to get all that cargo to DC or farther up the coast. The engines resigned to the fact that their eternity is spent on two rails and their future is not their own. Waves of despairation echo off the trees, bogs, hills and shopping centers

The parking lot sulfur orange amber flood lights provide the backing bass hum that ties it all together when there are no other noises. Even in the winter chill, as long as that light is on the world is a tenth of a degree warmer, I feel safer as now I can see potential evil and good

My late night symphony is complete, I applaud it and am an unwilling patron of this art. My season pass does not include a seat near the orchestra, I lean over the railing with my tin encased coffee mug, pinging off anything metal and making a medium high pitched resonate tone, maybe mezzo soprano.

Bravo civil planning bravo

Wotd hideout

Hideout
I used to roll my cigarettes in this case

The design became a tattoo

Now I hide coins from trips to Paris in there

I smoke to get away from the stress of the day

I once smoked as a treat for hard work

As my friends stopped smoking the place where I now imbibe is getting colder

Now my hard work has turned into just getting through to the next break

I’m hiding out on life by keeping people away with a puff of smoke and wondering why the lonliness creeps at the back of my neck

My hideout is my addiction and I want to break free

I want to create a new persona that isn’t keen on self destruction

I want to shake your hand and introduce myself as who I want to be

Wotd glitter

Glitter
My girls looked out the window as I left for another appointment

Waving frantically for papa to return

Their eyes glitter in the sun

Their smiles fade to sobs then tears as my wife nudges them back to the table

When I return home pictures will appear 

They will have napped and forgotten that I left

Another round of hugs and kisses

And the glitter in their eyes return

Wotd blur

Blur

The first year after the birth didn’t go by fast

I just can’t remember anything

I have pictures I have people who told me what happened but as far as 4k high definition memories I haven’t a clue

I know I bought a house, I know I had 4 surgeries, I know I essentially took over my department, but that is all I know

I bought comic books I don’t remember reading them

I took a video at my mother’s grave but I haven’t been back since

I’ve lost that year forever, it’s only in pictures now

I’m wondering how many others I’ve lost that I can’t remember not remembering that I’ve lost them

Wotd translate

Translate

We talk the same language but do we understand each other

Words flow but are they the words intended

Can you read into what I’m saying, are you noting what I’m not saying

Have we connected at a deeper level or will we just wait for our turn to speak

My mind jumps from topic to topic, can you keep up

If you tied a string to my ideas would it make a recognizable pattern, or would it be a Pollack drip painting

I’m not sure anymore that I want to let anyone in to deep, vulnerability has never been my strong suit

We speak the same language but do we pick up on the nuance

I often wonder how our ancient ancestors related to each other before we became so sophisticated and advanced, was it a simple hunger, thirst, lust, tired, scared feeling communicated and who was the first to hide their true motives

Why does a cow say moo moo here but something else on the opposite side of the Earth, if I heard that same cow over there would it be that different

Is it a simple thing that people simply forgot the word and made some bullshit up like we do now to each other or do vows really sound different in Japan

Wotd sound

​it used to be a song that got my to pump my fist in the air signaling teenage rebellion

It used to be the applause from an appreciative audience after a show that ensured my love of theater

It used to be the finger snaps I’m so many Sunday nights at the green mill that drove me to come back week after week to improve my craft

Feeling the roar of B1B bombers hit afterburners at the end of the runway woke me from my 3rd shift slumber

The rattling of subway cars gives me a feeling that I’m home

Sirens still make me jump warning me that the bangers are angry tonight

But what gives me peace today is the faint snoring of my daughters after a long day of learning and adventure

I recognize my father’s voice when I speak, the timbre and intonation although I try so hard to erase it

My mother’s attempt to regain speech is mirrored in my girls first monologue and I can’t stop crying

The silence that roars when no one is home makes me appreciate everything and everyone that lives under my watch

The scratching of the stubble on my face reminds me of the years I’ve lived

My favorite things is where I first began being inspired

The turning of a page is life moving forward

My lover’s gasp after we make it and before we slumber lets me know I still got it

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/sound/

Wotd expectation


15 mins early or you are 20 mins late

Impossible demands like those from a toddler

You aren’t dedicated to the mission and need to adjust accordingly

Questioning my resolve doesn’t inspire me to give you my all

Everyone is aware and is experiencing the same lack of support but you need to find a way 

That means to me a lack of proactive leadership on your part

If you see trash have the initiative to pick it up

But when do I get to do my job vs being a refuse engineer

Hey I’m covering down for someone else

Again we are talking about poor resource planning, is that the new task you will add

Some days I wish I’d been a little less smarter, little less team oriented, little less patient
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/expectation