Scary.

Scary.

Scary. Is it?

The fog. Ah there’s nothing like it.

It’s only scary cause you cant’ see where we’re going. Not to worry there’s still a road out there. No there is. Trust me, I can see it. Can’t you, silly? Really? Look. There’s the line. Keep looking. Straight ahead. Feeling a little better about that?

Do I mind? Not at all. I never mind driving in the elements. The fog happens to be my favorite. Reminds me of what life might be like living in the clouds. The mist crawls down the mountains, across the land until it creeps into your bones. And if it ain’t creeping into your bones then it’s creeping into the dead man’s bones.

Ever hear that one? About the dead man and the coldness in his bones.  Well, let me tell you then…

The dead don’t much like the fog. In fact, they’ll sooner turn over in their graves than welcome that cold air into their bones. You have to understand that a dead man will protect his bones like you won’t believe. He’d chase down a man to the depths of sea to get his bones back. Nothing can stop him. Something about the cool mist separates a dead man from his bones. Can’t see ‘em or feel ‘em. Mistakes them for gone. Sends him out howling across the land looking for something that ain’t much further than his arm or leg, but he can’t see that. Oh, but he’ll search. Damn near, walking across every inch of that rolling cloud looking. And if you come across him, this dead man with an obsession, count yourself warned. Cause even though he might have his arm or leg, that won’t stop him from taking yours. Just like that one right there!

Scary, is it?

300. The fog. Absolutely love it. Driving in it. Walking through it. Something about living in a cloud. Those foggy days in SF remind me most of life in the clouds. Favorite thing when I was younger was watching it roll in and envelop everything in its path like an oversized hand grabbing a hold. A little like this...

fog. golden gate. sf. 2007. 

Anyway, felt like a little storytelling within the story, if you know what I mean. Enjoy the day, the weather, and whatever comes your way. kisses. m.

Show Yer Bones.

Show Yer Bones

(5-13-2009)

“Show yer bones,” Tommy says as he calls. Playing cards in a cemetery provides a great deal of privacy not to mention an eerie ambiance. The skeletons provide us with excellent substitutes for chips. Finger and toe bones prove to be the best and quickest to clear away in a pinch. Tombstones supply a makeshift table. This was our weekly haunt and only way to keep the game private. See we didn’t gamble for money, booze, or even women. The rules of this game were quite different. Winner rarely took all and loser didn’t walk away empty handed either. One could call us grave robbers. But we didn’t steal from the dead. The dead had ample opportunity to win it back fair and square. Playing poker with a dead man was a different experience. See the dead have nothing to lose. The living, well that’s the catch, you have your life to gamble with among other things the dead may take in trade. So if you won, a grave might sound like a wasted investment. But to that dead bastard you’ve just confiscated his home and his bones lay out for anyone to claim. If you don’t know about stealing a dead man’s bones, let me explain... To take a man’s bones calls his soul from beyond and tethers his spirit to those disrupted artifacts. You can most certainly expect him to come calling one evening and take up in your home until you return his bones. Now to lose to a dead man, see that’s quite another thing. See not all the dead envy the living. It’s quite the occasion if a skeleton wants your life. They rarely ask for it. But you may have to give up your eyes, ears, or tongue. Sometimes even fingers or toes. Tommy lost his pinky one time and won it back in the next game. Let’s just say he had an interesting week without it. The dead are quite the comedians. Once I saw a man lose both legs in a poker game and had to be carried home. What do the dead want with our pieces? Nothing really. It amuses them I think. It’s quite a funny thing to look at a skeleton with a set of eyes to look back out at you. The tongue has no purpose. They don’t need it to talk, but to the lawyer who has just gambled it away it has an immeasurable value. See they don’t need these organs, but they do understand how very dear such things are to the living.

Tonight, same as the last 10 years, we’re out here playing in the cemetery. It’s witching hour. The town clock sounds three distinct times as we are coming down the wire. Unlike my other games, all those years, many, many times, I’m losing tonight. My heart is thumping, like it knows it will never beat again. Pulse racing like a engine. I’ve bet quite a bit on this game. This skeleton isn’t bluffing either. He will collect my debt without hesitation. “I shouldn’t have come tonight,” are my thoughts. I look over to my eager opponent who will relish knowing that he at long last triumphs and my winning streak, just like my life, has finally come to a close. What kind of man plays cards with the dead? The kind that has nothing left to lose. This game is different though. I came in, not looking to walk away. The love of my life walked out the door five hours ago and my heart won’t do me a damn bit of good anymore. My heart is up for ante on the table and the bones love that I’m playing dangerous tonight. Tommy looks nervous. But he calls anyway. “Show yer bones.” And the bets are out. Cards are down. Bones walks over, reaches into my chest and rips out my heart.

Repost. From last year. In the macabre. Letting another stand on its own. But there is an occasion for it. And... sharing more. Ok! So... how to begin? Got something of news on... alright to the point. Fabulous feedback on one of the older stories. Which one? This one. Encouragement does help and never goes unnoticed or unappreciated. Keep encouraging each other and yourselves. A lot happening in the next 24... attempting to accomplish what the universe lets me. Enjoy if you've never read it. It's one of my favorites from the earlier works. Big kisses to everyone. Have a great night, weekend or whatever wherever! m.

Show Yer Bones.

“Show yer bones,” Tommy says as he calls. Playing cards in a cemetery provides a great deal of privacy not to mention an eerie ambiance. The skeletons provide us with excellent substitutes for chips. Finger and toe bones prove to be the best and quickest to clear away in a pinch. Tombstones supply a makeshift table. This was our weekly haunt and only way to keep the game private. See we didn’t gamble for money, booze, or even women. The rules of this game were quite different. Winner rarely took all and loser didn’t walk away empty handed either. One could call us grave robbers. But we didn’t steal from the dead. The dead had ample opportunity to win it back fair and square. Playing poker with a dead man was a different experience. See the dead have nothing to lose. The living, well that’s the catch, you have your life to gamble with among other things the dead may take in trade. So if you won, a grave might sound like a wasted investment. But to that dead bastard you’ve just confiscated his home and his bones lay out for anyone to claim. If you don’t know about stealing a dead man’s bones, let me explain... To take a man’s bones calls his soul from beyond and tether’s his spirit to those disrupted artifacts. You can most certainly expect him to come calling one evening and take up in your home until you return his bones. Now to lose to a dead man, see that’s quite another thing. See not all the dead envy the living. It’s quite the occasion if a skeleton wants your life. They rarely ask for it. But you may have to give up your eyes, ears, or tongue. Sometimes even fingers or toes. Tommy lost his pinky one time and won it back in the next game. Let’s just say he had an interesting week without it. The dead are quite the comedians. Once I saw a man lose both legs in a poker game and had to be carried home. What do the dead want with our pieces? Nothing really. It amuses them I think. It’s quite a funny thing to look at a skeleton with a set of eyes to look back out at you. The tongue has no purpose. They don’t need it to talk, but to the lawyer who has just gambled it away it has an immeasurable value. See they don’t need these organs, but they do understand how very dear such things are to the living.

Tonight, same as the last 10 years, we’re out here playing in the cemetery. It’s witching hour. The town clock sounds three distinct times as we are coming down the wire. Unlike my other games, all those years, many, many times, I’m losing tonight. My heart is thumping, like it knows it will never beat again. Pulse racing like a engine. I’ve bet quite a bit on this game. This skeleton isn’t bluffing either. He will collect my debt without hesitation. “I shouldn’t have come tonight,” are my thoughts. I look over to my eager opponent who will relish knowing that he at long last triumphs and my winning streak, just like my life, has finally come to a close. What kind of man plays cards with the dead? The kind that has nothing left to lose. This game is different though. I came in, not looking to walk away. The love of my life walked out the door five hours ago and my heart won’t do me a damn bit of good anymore. My heart is up for ante on the table and the bones love that I’m playing dangerous tonight. Tommy looks nervous. But he calls anyway.

“Show yer bones.” And the bets are out. Cards are down. Bones walks over, reaches into my chest and rips out my heart.




Not my usual bit of flavor, but I’m reeling from a headache still and trying to keep it together. It has its charm is all I will say. Well, I was given a sad story and I can’t discuss it. It has influenced me greatly and I have plans to do something. It’s kind of crazy, but I want to. I’m looking into becoming a bone marrow donor, if I even match. My hope is that it helps someone out there. The procedure seems harmless enough. This whole mess with my head, feeling powerless and without an answer, made me realize that there are people with real illness out there who don’t have answers or cures. And while my trite little headache is insignificant, it was an eye opener. Honestly I firmly believe the universe gives us signs and I was given one this morning as this notion crossed my mind. So I think it’s the right decision. Anyhow keep reading. I’ll be back with more. m.

Here's the link if anyone else is interested: http://www.marrow.org/