Sail Away

I've been de-friended. One of my few followers has jumped ship; left the keel; deserted the crew; bailed out; hit the spits; cracked the wobbleys; left the ranch ... not too sure about that last one but the picture is crystal I'm sure. I can't work out who it was, which in itself is probably the reason, but hey, each is each. Tally ho, ta ta, farewell my internet friend, as you cast yourself back out into the raging wilds of the vast sea of online communications. May your life as a cast away end with you landing on the desert island that you seek the most. However, if you ever feel need to set sail in web that is as wide as the world, know that there will forever be a place among the crew that it balderdash, ever ready to welcome you back into the fold, like a shipwrecked companion once pulled of course by the shining light of treasure, but now with their matetys, home again on the seven billion seas. S.H.

I'm Not Gonna Cry

I'm not gonna cry today, I won't shed a tear,
even if some milk is spilt, I won't dilute my beer,
I won't use a tissue, my pillow will stay dry,
and I won't need a shoulder, 'cos I'm not gonna cry,
I'm not gonna snivel, and I'm not gonna sob,
Both my eyes will remain dry, and I won't have to dob them,
Move me with a tragedy, just go ahead and try,
Play me a tear jerker, but I'm not gonna cry.

I'm not going to weep today, I will not wet my cheek,
I'll count to ten and I'll hold it in, I'm not gonna leak,
And I'm not gonna loose it, though I may want to die,
They say it's good to let it out, but I'm not gonna cry,
I'm not gonna blub today, I'm not gonna bawl,
And I'm not gonna fall apart, even if you call me,
I could not cry for forty years, I was to tough a guy,
Now I can do it any time, but I'm not gonna cry.

I must have cried a million tears, at least ninety-six,
I cried me a river, and an ocean just for kicks,
Listen to the thunder, dark clouds fill the sky,
Well it looks like rain, and I hear a train, but I'm not gonna cry.

Yeah, well it looks like rain and I hear a train, but I'm not gonna cry.


Alas, this is not mine, but belongs to the great Mr Wainwright. Big respect goes to the man, the myth, the legend. S.H.

Thou Shalt Always Kill

Thou shalt not question Stephen Fry. SH

I Shall Be Released

And to business. Fettered utterances were the call of the day as most of it was spent reading. Either that or basking in the sun. Or gazing out at other things as they basked in the sun. The day was partly cloudy and mostly quiet. But only where I spent it, as I imagine a building site or the playground of the nearest McDonald's was probably anything but quiet. As one would imagine they would be on most days they were in active use. The afternoon past, a sunset appeared, and soon after nighttime ensued. It still continues as I speak, but for the most part the day has drawn itself to a muted, if not regular conclusion. Excitement did not really rear any of its heads for me, but dare I say it may well have done for several others. Most of these people I will never meet, so the height of their excitement on this day would seem to be interminably unhelpful. Except maybe as serving to brighten my outlook on the day that yes, good things do happen if you are only in the right place when they happen. I will await the proof of this dizzying theory with most eager open-mindedness. Probably. SH

The Summer

Salty skies, air like warm honey. A tethered breeze seems hardly enough to carry anything of worth my way, but still it cools the sand, cools the water, cools the earth. Withered tales crumble and break up above like fallen leaves of autumns long passed away. They turn to dust like decayed vines, no longer snaking their way around and into recesses they should have never found, now blown away by the breath of something new.

I realise this is utter drivel, but something has to fill up this cyberspace, so until I become involved in anything more interesting, this will have to do. SH

Of The Girl

I want a girl who wears black t-shirts ... silver shoes and blue stockings.
A girl who swears without swearing.
Who cries when she wants to and also when she doesn't.
Whose eyes turn the others away, and reel me in on home.
Who laughs when she shouldn't, and smiles when no one else will.
Who sings in the supermarket at the top of her voice.
Who runs from everything, but is afraid of nothing.
Who tells me the truth, even when I don't want her to.
Who knows it's only just rain.
Who walks like she means it.
Who forgives but doesn't forget.
Who bangs her head to every thick drum beat.
Who has a jacket made of red cotton.
Who speaks like a thunderstorm and sounds like a rainbow.
Who is just around the corner. SH

The Broken, Beat & Scarred

Leave your line of silk, your tawdry tale. Bereft the rest of us your lies, your sullied maze. Take the time and make it yours, keep your clock away from gaze. No eyes of mine could wish to see, nor care to look upon, or wist to be akin, to anything of your own entropy. SH

What Is He Thinking?

I find it hard to turn my mind off. The problem with this is that my mind usually controls most of what I do. Wherever I am I am usually thinking about something, and believe me, this is not always a healthy pursuit. It leads to the all too common 'over thinking'. Which in turn leads to the also all too common 'some more over thinking.'
If you have heard of or know of, anyone that has in their possession or is aware of how to get their hands on a button that not necessarily turns the mind off but more putts it on mute, then I would be more than obliged if you could pass on their contact details. Thank you and good evening. S.H.