Why do people only show forgiveness, when they’re trying to sound cool in a song?
Black Ice
Posted in Creative Writing, Reflections with tags Writing on January 22, 2015 by VergeIt was supposed to be routine by the twentieth week
But I stayed late to help a friend who had to be up all night
and didn’t leave until the mist had frozen solid
on the asphalt and highways that pave my way home.
And as I nearly took a fall on the way to my car,
I realized it would be a tough ride on me tonight.
I tried my best to drive slowly, and made some bad moves;
In retrospect I had driven far too fast.
I was lucky to get the chances to recover
and tried to keep my eyes open and on the road.
Sometimes it takes much longer than you want
to get to the places you desire
but if you don’t pay attention to invisible ice
you may never arrive.
Ronnie Mund – Howard Stern’s Birthday Poem – “61 Years”
Posted in Creative Writing with tags Writing on January 15, 2015 by VergeHere we go again…this is the trasncription from the January 12th, 2015 broadcast of the Howard Stern Show, when Ronnie Mund delivers a stunning rendition of his newest poem. This is the raw material that I will attempt to re-write into something that has a little class, and a lot less words that rhyme.
It was January 12th in the 1950s
In a time when music and radio were kinda nifty
At this time a stork delivered a boy named Stern
Whose name would change radio and make it diffy.
As the years went by his words would be heard by many radio bosses
Who would think his manner was iffy
Along came the FCC and would turn his life into turmoil in a jiffy
Alas! A satellite in the sky would make a venue
where Stern could say…“I got a stiffy!”
Today, 61 years later, the nifty, diffy, iffy, jiffy, stiffy Stern
Can say to them all…”Fuck off, look what I’ve done,
look what I’ve earned!”
Happy Birthday, Du!
All Apologies (eh, it was late)
Posted in Creative Writing, Friends and Family, Reflections with tags Writing on January 6, 2015 by Vergewhat if the world were ending
in flames and fire and wrath,
could we ever come to forgive one another…
would we still be enemies in death?
they tell you there’s too much to live for
when you’re drowning under water
and then tell others there’s dignity in death
when a cause or war is what you’ve died for.
and families split, and friends are betrayed
in the worst of times that haunt us
and apologies are often not
enough to help to heal us.
but what if the world and all of us
were coming to the end,
would we find it in our souls
to just let old wounds mend?
A New Year
Posted in Daily Music with tags music on January 2, 2015 by Verge6:30 AM, alone in my office, building a vacant shell.
You want me? Well come on and fucking break the door down…I’m ready.
perhaps later could have been sooner
Posted in Creative Writing, Reflections on December 31, 2014 by VergeI arrived at the theater with my ticket in hand
already sold on the show
and with my flask in my jacket
and the movie cued up,
I reclined and sat back to relax.
I never expected I had mistakenly walked into
the wrong place and wrong time altogether,
and to avoid the embarrassment of admitting my mistake,
instead chose to sit there in silence.
It seemed that the usher had not read my ticket
and I had been awfully aloof,
but when I finally pretended to be enjoying myself,
I found that I was completely lost.
So I slid out of the theater to ask at the booth
if I could please exchange or get a refund,
but they calmly explained that I was too late
and I’d have to settle with what I had bought.
Lost
Posted in Creative Writing with tags Writing on December 27, 2014 by VergeA very close friend once told me
as I stood upon a ladder to replace a fixture
that when, inevitably, I dropped a screw that I would later desire,
I should keep my eyes towards the floor, and not the ceiling.
I could always find what I had mistakenly let go,
and the ceiling would still be there above me.
But if I kept my eyes trained upwards to keep my balance,
I might never find again what I had let fall away.
The Night before Christmas
Posted in Creative Writing, Friends and Family with tags Christmas, holidays, Writing on December 24, 2014 by VergeTonight my parents come to visit.
We serve dinner and they bring gifts.
Afterwards, my wife hears stories from the source
that shed light on why I am the man I am.
My earliest memories are of passion…
anger and love the same.
They impressed me for a lifetime.
We’ve set up our tree for eight years in a row.
My in-laws just one time.
And as crooked as it may be,
it’s still the warmest thing to me.
The super bowl….
Posted in Daily Pictures on December 24, 2014 by VergeBecause sometimes even if you know how things are going to end, that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the ride.
