Redundant

Once again
I ask of myself?
The question?
Feel the question,
Know the question,
What is the answer
To the question?

Mc Call's Dress Pattern 957

Patterns
Behavior patterns
Eating patterns
Sleeping patterns
Loving patterns
If we are creatures of patterns
A society ruled by patterns
Governments powerful through patterns,
Why am I trying to break my patterns?

Stray Stray Stray, Chain of Strays

I am sitting here wondering why I must always take in so many strays.
Stray family members, stray people, and stray animals.
I thought three stray people and a planned puppy was enough, apparently not.
One of my stray family members had a stray dog follow the planned pup home yesterday.
The stray, frisky female, golden retriever of about six months keeps chewing the short nylon rope, tethered to the railing of my front porch.
A kindly neighbor knocked on my door at 6:30 AM and brought the now un-tethered stray back to my house.
Of course, my stray family member suggested that the stray dog be bathed and kept inside until we can figure out to whom she belongs.
HMMM, 4 people and 2 dogs in a small two-bedroom apartment with only one miniscule income, anybody else have a stray?
I think the house is too empty.

Silent Night

Of silence, I am master
Trapped in a mute existence
While thoughts pummel my brain, like the chunks of ice in a late summers hail storm.
It makes no sense that ice should form in heat such as this.
Noisy silence I know so well
Disengaged from the meaning of the words,
With the teasing of the sounds buzzing in my ears, like a swarm of honey bees
Telling stories amongst themselves, while the world goes on, knowing not their tales.
With my quill, I find my voice
On the parchment, I can finally hear the words.

Stuck on his Philosophies

"How barren is my soul and thought, and yet forever tortured by empty birthpangs, sensual and tormenting! Must my spirit then ever remain tongue-tied, must I always babble? What I need is a voice as penetrating as the eye of Lynceus, as terrifying as the sigh of the giants, as persistent as the sound of nature, as full of derision as a frosty wind-gust, as malicious as Echo's heartless mockeries, of a compass from the deepest bass to the most mellifluous soprano, modulated from the sacred softness of a whisper to the violent fury of rage. This is what I need in order to breathe, to get expression for what is on my mind, to stir the bowels of my compassion and of my wrath.-But my voice is only hoarse like the cry of a gull, or dies away like the blessing upon the lips of the dumb."

Soren Kierkegaard
Eithor/Or

Need a Pilot

Captain Oh Captain,
Where is the blog captain?
Here goes the test.