No. 3905

Hey y’all. Check out the original Brit’s blog. This guy has been a good friend to me for the last few years. Just when I think he’s gone, he’s back again, in full cheeky mode. Funny, how he pops up just when I need a pick me up. He’s one of the few people who really gets me and still likes me. He accepts me as I am, and always makes me feel special and appreciated. You know the type that would give you a big hug anf be happy to pose in pictures with you making silly faces, and post them everywhere. The type  who thinks you’re cool, not for how you look, but for who you are as a person and never makes you feel less than. He will also make you up some onion gravy, but gross to that. 

You’ll love his poetry and quirky nature. He’s fun to insult too, but maybe, that’s just fun for me. Ha!  Really though great guy and his girlfriend is an amazing photographer. I mean she even makes him look good! 😜

Chris42's avatarAuthor, C A Middleton

Wonder Why. By C A Middleton © 2018

The mirror to his psyche smashed.

The curtain’s torn; his temple trashed.

He sees no way of shaking

The wart-ridden effigy of self.

His mountain’s crumbled into dust.

The frame of fortune turned to rust.

The signs are pointing further

From any personal wealth.

The time has come to wonder

Why the sun still shines.

As he attempts his damnedest

To erase the previous lines.

The birds have all got tonsillitis.

They croak as they try to delight us.

The clouds are full of shit

Sprinkling on our heads.

Marvin Gaye is scratched and weak.

The demons are the ones to keep.

They pray upon our hands and feet

As we curl in bed.

The time has come to wonder

Why the sun still shines.

As he attempts his damnedest

To erase the previous lines.

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Lived It

This song makes me so nostalgic. If you grew up in the Sourh during the 80s it might just resonate with you too. I sent this to my brother. The second verse is so him.  Happy Sunday.❤️

“Oh, you think I’m talking crazy
In a different language you might not understand
Oh, that’s alright
That’s just the kind of life that made me who I am
Just taking my mind on a visit
Back in time ’cause I miss it
You wouldn’t know to love it like I love it
Unless you lived it
And man, I lived it”

Upon Being 


Let the sunshine caress you,
as if it were a lover.
Live today like it is everything
you have.
Don’t be afraid to let the wind
bend you.
Feel the tenderness of the garden.
Take in the color, scent,
and aliveness of the flowers blossoming.
Let the sky’s blue direct you.
between what’s your’s and what’s their’s Feel the richness of the grass
under your feet.
Let nature be the cure that relieves you. If only for a moment, be well

-Tosha Michelle

and another song by The Maine Yep, still om that music kick 🙂

Life, Music And The Maine

Things

1. Four more weeks and I’ll have my Master’s degree.  Yes! Graduating with honors too.  
2. I’m currently interviewing for criminologist jobs and adjunct professor positions. 
3. I’ve been asked to contribute one of my poem to a journal publication and another for a book
4. Planning a trip to Quebec City in the fall. It’s looks like a gorgeous, historic place.
5. On a negative note,  tired of the news. Burnt out on it all. Maybe I’ll stay in Canada. Ha!

Overall life is good and I’m please to be finding my footing. Better late than never. F. Scott was right when he said …

“For what it’s worth… it’s never too late, or in my case too early, to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit. Start whenever you want. You can change or stay the same. There are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you’ve never felt before. I hope you meet people who have a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of, and if you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start over again.“

And now for some music!!


Maine isn’t just a state you know. Check it out and have a wonderful Sunday xx


“In the backseat of the taxi. When you told me we were only two punch-drunk souls all tangled in the wind. And in the backseat when you asked me”Is the sadness everlasting?” I pulled you closer, looked at you and said “Love, I think it is””

What Love Is

Cool Artsy Shoes

Love isn’t
a weekend in Belize.
It’s not flattery.
Rarely, the perfect fit.
It isn’t cake and schnapps
or a walk by the river
with Thoreau

Love is
a photograph cropped,
rearranged, often marred
It’s an arsenal of joy,
of pain, a loaded gun
Locked, fired, reloaded,
fired again.

It’s salty, gritty
rarely sweet, at times solid
at others, a noddle slip
off a chopstick.
It’s a Rorschach test
a complex algorithm
disordered thoughts

Films never get it right.
Songs sometimes do.

Love is
difficult,
a chalkboard lesson,
in Mechanics and
Special Relativity

Love is
a Dixie cup
full of gin
the brush of angel’s wings
horse’s hooves in hell

Love is
true.
Seldom,
but when it is,
it wears sensible shoes.

-Tosha Michelle

Catch and Release 

Happiness begins in summer air
when we lift our hands,
ink stained from editing a life
in need of revisions and
vision, a mid eve dream
reformed. Reborn.

Where we find comfort
in the stormy eye of
new beginnings,
in trying again
but this time in today.
Ready to risk, to breathe
to pick the window seat,
to upgrade to first class,
to meet the stranger’s gaze,
not caring if it’s a four leaf clover
or a curse.

Mistakes and Nirvana
flickering in from the West.

Happiness begins when we
finally learn to rearrange the whys
and start believing in the how,
even if we come up short,
even if we fail.
Knowing it’s all in the
catch and release anyhow.

-Tosha Michelle

Dawn

We are always in the midst
of letting go of something
or someone.
Untying knots
Finger by finger.

Watching as the leaf whirls
in the wind across the grass
into the air.
The sky opaque resists.

We keep searching for
what might have been,
not realizing the beauty in
what is or could be.

The scent of his cologne.
The strong arm around
your shoulder.
His finger around a lock
of your hair.
The uninterrupted gaze that
you missed while your eyes
were on another.

The gift of rapt attention.
You finally see the light’s
transformation in the beauty
of his eyes.
Looking back no more at
the unintended one.
Just a imitation you
mistook as real.
Only stars in your head
after a fall.

The possibilities of love
become endless when
there’s hope of being love
in return
The eve of a new beginning
Giving birth to the life
you were meant to live.

-Tosha Michelle