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Showing posts from July, 2011

Two Souls

She is out there, my other half. Can't say what she is doing or who she is doing it with but I know that she is out there. Her physical absence is palpable and impossible not to notice. Sometimes I turn and expect to see her standing there with that look I know so well. Sometimes I turn and wonder why those dark eyes aren't looking back at me. I pick up the telephone and expect it to ring like it always did before. I dial the numbers and laugh because I know that she is going to say that she was about to call me. I hear the smile in her voice, except I don't do it. I don't dial. Instead I hold the phone and close my eyes. I hold the phone, close my eyes and feel the hole and the emptiness. I  hold the phone, close my eyes and wonder if that chasm is one sided and then I feel this twinge. I feel this twinge and a silent bell rings inside my head and I know that she is thinking about me and us. I hear the bell and I know that somewhere she feels what I feel and tha

‪Impressionist Does Shakespeare in Celebrity Voices‬‏ - YouTube

via youtube.com Posted via email from thejackb's posterous

Harder Kimio

This is post for The Red Dress Club. This prompt is to write a piece of fiction or non fiction based upon the photo below. Somewhere out there the song of my heart is dancing to the song that only we hear. Somewhere out there she lives her life and in the quiet of the night remembers moments when she would hold onto my arms, smile and say “Harder Kimio.” Somewhere out there the song of my heart remembers that vacation we took together and how we stopped time. This is one of the stories that she won’t tell you because she refuses to admit to herself that together we touched the face of god. She won’t talk about the moment on the beach or stolen kisses in an elevator. She won’t tell you about the moment on the balcony as the sun set over the sea or how we collapsed upon the couch our limbs tangled and our hair tousled. And perhaps I shouldn’t either. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you that we couldn’t tell where one of us ended and the other began. She didn’t have to tell me to

Let's Talk Turkey About The West Bank

Soft and Smooth

“What a dream I had Pressed in organdy Clothed in crinoline Of smoky burgundy Softer than the rain   I wandered empty streets down Past the shop displays I heard cathedral bells Tripping down the alleyways As I walked on   And when you ran to me Your cheeks flushed with the night We walked on frosted fields Of juniper and lamplight I held your hand   And when I awoke And felt you warm and near I kissed your honey hair With my grateful tears Oh I love you, girl Oh I love you”   For Emily Whenever I May Find Her - Simon and Garfunkel The words that I wish to write haven’t been willing to work with me. I have called upon them and asked them to help to convey the sights and sounds of the secret garden we once walked through but they haven’t responded. Perhaps it is because sometimes there are no words to express the synchronicity of souls. Two who breathed as one sounds cheesy and crass. The sort of sad line that some have sought to use for less than honorabl

Words Worth Reading

If you are in need of reading material you should take some time to read one or more of these: The Fire & The Fury One Of The Grumpy Old Men Of The Blogosphere A Whiter Shade Of Pale Four Generations & A Wedding The Write Words For June A Few Words About My Death A Crowded Dance Floor Let Freedom Ring

A Crowded Dance Floor

I rarely write without musical accompaniment of some sort and tonight is no different than any other. My headphones are on and iTunes is on the DJ setting rolling through the 10,000 or so songs that are loaded on there. It is a crazy stew of my music alongside the children so one moment I might hear Disney songs followed by Springsteen, Orbison and Dylan. Or there might be something faster like the song above and that is what is inspiring me now. That song brings me back to a particular night and a particular house. Can't tell you whether it was a weekend or a weekday but the picture I am painting has bright splotches of color all around it. I can see myself walking into the fraternity house. I have a gray t-shirt on, 501s that are the definition of comfort and a pair of Timberland boots. It is dark outside and the dance floor inside the main house is packed so I head over to the bar and park myself behind it. I like working the bar because it is the easiest way to meet gir

Let Freedom Ring

We are in the midst of another holiday weekend and I am doing my best to stay cool. The temperature is supposed to be somewhere around 185 in the shade and though I love heat I prefer it in the mid nineties. This blog is still home, but it has become sort of a vacation spot where I do things differently. Anyway, I am jammed for time but wanted to make sure that people realize this place isn't abandoned. If you are interested in reading some of my recent work here are links you can use: And The Rockets’ Red Glare 18 Reasons To Read This Blog An Unfulfilled Promise Paralysis- Indecision Is A Decision More Proof That Great Headlines Don’t Matter Help Me?