Another Tomorrow Today

Live for another tomorrow
Lying about all the yesterdays
No time to confront your sorrow
When today is wasting away

Soon it will be today again
Try living in the moment now
Lying about yesterday’s a sin
And to worry about tomorrow

© 2015 Michael Yost 02/22

September Winds

Time will never stop going forward
No matter what you remember
We shed our feelings picking chords
Falling through into September

The universal chord raises
Old tunes are falling away
Leaves look like they’re blazing
When the cooler autumn’s winds sway

Time past weighs heavy on your mind
Those hard decisions can’t be changed
Looking forward has signs designed
To split your legacy prearranged

September’s here drop your baggage
Kick the leaves live for the day
Read the last words turning the page
Wallflower come over and play

 

© 2015 Michael Yost 02/21

Video

Artist’s Creed

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1LZp9rQiibQ

Mirrors on Quiet Waters

Thanks to Isadora (Mind of Isadora) for sharing this video with us.

He who would be serene and pure needs but one thing, detachment.” Meister Eckhart

Video uploaded to YouTube by MrBangthamai.

The Fish WRapper

Terry looked down at his bloody knuckles, “Dammed red heads, who knew that peckerwood was going to hit his head on the cement stairs?”  “Well help me put him in the boat and let’s grab some of those cinder blocks.”

Pulling up at 2:30am the brothers parked by the boat ramp.  The steam was trailing off the thermos cup until you blew on it and then it fogged up the windows.  Joe finally broke the silence, “You didn’t have to kill that kid.”   “Joe, that wasn’t a kid or a sixteen year old ass, he was a adult trying to rip us off, and hell I only hit him once.”

Look at that, someone has already put their Bassmaster in the water and its only 3am.  The State Game and Fishing Officer pulled in, parked and then walked over to talk to the two fellas.  “You fellas look new to the area.  How are you this morning?”

“Stay calm Terry, Joe whispered.”   “Morning Officer, we’re doing OK.  We used to come here as kids and it’s our first time back.  We sure are looking forward to getting some bass today.”

“Well before you go out let me update you about our little place here.  My son runs the bait shop and prints the local rag, “The Fish WRapper”.  We’re still a small fishing community here at Liar’s Cove you have to be off the lake at 4pm.  We’re just big enough to support a State Game and Fishing Officer, but small enough that I have to share an office with my big mouth son Peter, but he prefers to be called Junior.”

“Well this is Terry and I’m Joe.  If you don’t mind we’re going to get out on the lake.  We’ll catch up some more later this afternoon.”

“That sounds good boys; my name is Officer Michael P Pecker, senior.  Oh and junior’s a little sensitive about his red hair and only his friends can call him Peckerwood. ”

“Now where is that boy?”

© 2012 Michael Yost 3/13

Life’s Memories

I love the old porch swing poetry
What’s left of my life’s memories
Going back I find some new stories
Why did they hold them back from me

They think I don’t know what’s going on
Still watching the clocks till I’m gone
Where’s the poems I had for the songs
Tick Tock I know what’s going on

2012 Michael Yost 02/07

May I Wonder Aloud?

Like the song, I ask where all the flowers have gone.
Where are the people that were part of my life growing
up as a babe and young boy?
I know the answer; they have slipped away into a memory
I have the memories, deep memories, I should be happy.

Next the teenage years and a lot of the same people are
there; but there’s new ones too. They were priming me
for the new adult life and the first loves of a teen. It was
happy anxiety. Those people and the girls have all slipped
away into memories. I have the memories, deep memories,
I should be happy.

As a young man the 7 seas were going to be my home
and I married a young lady to keep my house. We had one
child and finally four growing up and out of the home.
They all have a wife of their own. Those children raised
me! The wife and I drew apart and the family all slipped
away into memories. I have the memories, deep memories,
I should be happy.

Aging as people do, I found a few friends; the kids were
all far away and I turned to writing as an outlet. Nothing
was ever published, but that didn’t matter; the writing
was for my benefit, no one else’s. One day the Doctor
told me I would soon lose my memories and after a
while I would finally die. So now I write even more of my
memories, so I can remember them; so I should be happy.
© 2012 Michael Yost 2/7