And a Happy December Solstice to You (The Long Long Night)

Ah, the December Solstice.

Those of you in the Southern Hemisphere are (hopefully) enjoying summer while us folks in the Northern Hemisphere are entering winter and the longest night of the year.

Though it is the Northern influence that spawned The Long Long Night, I wish you all a happy December solstice and warm poetic evening.

so without further adieu I give to you …

The Long Long Night

He would sculpt and I would write to get us through this thing called life – what seemed to be an aimless plight

The long, long night

I used pen and he used clay to cope with all the pain filled days which lived within our slow decay of

The long, long night

But in between the words and mud we found the art of making love and pacified the angst and blood of

The long, long night

Forsaken pages ripped and torn, spattered earth across the floor, graphite tales of love and war and

The long, long night

Come into my bed sweet angry lover, your tender calloused hands beneath the cover.

Find the place where none has been, beneath the ink and turning pin, get us through yet once again

The long, long night

The Long Long Night was torn from the pages of Getting Me Back ( The Voices Within) available at your favorite eBook retailer.

A Pilgrim’s Prayer

Well here we are. Another Thursday, another November and another Thanksgiving holiday in the USA. Which means the earth has not quite spun off her axis; some of her inhabitants may have but we are here today so let’s make the most of it.

I have shared the following bit of prose in one form or another for … I don’t know… decades maybe?

Occasionally I vary the wording but the sentiment is always the same, so without further ado, here we go…

A Pilgrim’s Prayer

Once upon a time a long, a long time ago (before Black Friday) Thanksgiving was a celebration of harvest and a time to give thanks. Hence the name thanksgiving.

I don’t think the early pilgrims had a Super Walmart, a Sears or a Best Buy yet somehow they managed. Can you imagine having to grow your own food and prepare it without the help of google? When did they have time? Where did they get their Stove Top stuffing and who plucked the turkeys? How did those crazy pilgrims do it?

John Wayne

I didn’t really know any of those pilgrims but I did see a John Wayne movie once. John knew a pilgrim when he saw one. He seemed to know a lot of pilgrims but that was a long time ago too.

I propose we are all pilgrims, each one of us on a journey of sorts. Our own personal pilgrimage…

Aren’t we are all looking for something? Be it a quest for self-confirmation, truth, a cure, enrichment, comfort, a friend, a lover, a job, a meal or a place to lay our weary head at the end of another day.

I believe life is a journey, or at least it should be. It would be terrible to think we were just flailing through this experience; killing time on this giant floating gumball while waiting for the next Black Friday specials.

I believe we all have one destination though we travel different roads and I trust that we have choices.

Pilgrims (2)

Hopefully we will choose well. On the occasion we do take a wrong turn [and we will from time to time] I pray we have enough sense and humility to stop and seek direction… to reassess our route and to be considerate in our voyage.

So here’s wishing all of you pilgrims a Happy, Happy Thanksgiving from the Hill house and may we all, whatever road we’re on, take time to look ahead, pause and bow our head in thanks.

My personal prayer:

I pray our good seeds of hope, humility, toil and courage produce abundantly; that love and kindness grow wild like the weeds of early spring – fruitful and undeterred.  And may our harvest be rich with wisdom and discernment.

Thank you Father, The Creator of all things, for this day and all it holds. Thank you for the days past and Father forgive me for my wrong turns. Thank you for the day to come and guide me to make better choices. Thank you for all the pilgrims in my life – for those who’ve gone ahead and the ones that come behind and for those who read this prayer. And Thank You Father for the beacon that lights my way.

In Jesus name, Amen.

BTW Thanksgiving & John Wayne (A Pilgrim’s Prayer) is also in Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)

Happy Fall Y’all (Summer Adieu)

It’s out of the flip-flops and back in the Reeboks

and long pants dug out of the dust

So long to the tank tops, bikinis and cut offs

and lawn chairs left lying to rust

Adieu to the sand dune, the pelican and plain loon

My loves, we’ll see you `fore long

Leaves drop as trees swoon, long past the crop moon

With the scent of a sweet autumn song

Let’s all take a big swill to ward off the night chill

Winter’s a season away

Crank up the camp fire; avoid the ole quagmire

With children perched high on the hay

Poem from Getting Me Back

More about the Autumn Equinox at National Geographic

#TBT (Take the Damn Pill)

Pose, Prose & Poems (My Thoughts Exactly) was published a year or so before The Matrix was released in theaters. 🤔 1998 and 1999 respectively.

Fast forward two decades and…

Pose,Prose & Poems was absorbed into Getting Me Back (The Voices Within) and I am in a debate with myself. A choice has to be made. I have only two options.

What if I choose to not choose? I ask.

That is not an option. The voice replies.

What if I make the wrong choice? I ask.

… Silence💭

Can I change my mind?

…More silence… 💭

How many —

The voice has grown impatient. I/we do not like indecisiveness.

Just take the damn pill!

So I took the pill – again. You see, I took the pill a long time ago; before it was a pill.

Ignorance Was Bliss


I slump to the floor, scratching at my eyes.
Please don’t make me see.
Fists to my ears still the sound seeps in, forcing me to hear.

No! No, I do not want to know.
I search for the comfort of simple things…
a sunny day, cool green grass,
a soft fuzzy dog with his cool nose to my face,
a child singing softly – his own song.
Let me sing my own song.
Knowledge is a burden to those with a conscience, a sense of right and wrong.

©️1998 Pose Prose & Poems

©️ 2017 Getting Me Back

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Little Man (Meditation Monday)

It’s time to go to bed little man

Cover up your head little man

I’ll see you when the sun breaks in the morn.

Say your prayers and close your eyes,

I’ve locked the monsters all outside,

She’d sang those words to him since he was born.

He grew to be a brave young lad

And followed after his ole dad

Beneath a flag of pride his oath was sworn.

They brought him home in silk lined wood,

And all around him soldiers stood,

While Butterfield’s Lullaby played on the horn.

It’s time to go ahead little man,

I know that you weren’t scared little man,

My heart breaks I can’t see you and I mourn.

I’ve said my prayers for your closed eyes,

I’ve tucked my feelings deep inside… She sang into a folded flag of thorns.

Little Man from Getting Me Back.

Winter in Texas (from Getting Me Back)

Well there’s no partying for me tonight, unless you count Jimmy and me shaking our shoulders to Dick Clark’s New Years Rockin’ Eve.

I have succumbed to the winter crud. I don’t know if it is the flu, pneumonia, some foreign undiscovered disease or the common cold, but it has snapped the ‘party’ right out of me.

It is winter and `tis the season so… Que sera sera. I [or we] have to stay positive and find something to look forward to.

So here is a little something out of Getting Me Back for the home-bound whether by choice or circumstance. (The rest of you pArTy oN!)

Winter in Texas

The first frost arrived this week

Spit forth from the infinite stars like a sneeze leaving sprinkles of sugary ice on the landscape.

The remaining blades and leafs gave way and withered at daybreak leaving nothing but the scattered evergreens to give us hope…

No blooms worthy of expectancy.

However there is hardly anything more beautiful than a berry laden Juniper dotted with Cardinals; the Christmas tree with all of her ornaments pales in comparison.

Oh Christmas, we have that to look forward to – with the Santa Claus fable, the forgotten Jesus and colorful lights draped over bare limbs and the cherished red-nosed reindeer standing pretentiously on brown turf.

And New Year’s Eve – ah, the kissing; corks and fireworks detonate in unison to commemorate the failed promises yet to come. We gorge on black-eyed peas and cabbage, not earnestly expecting anything more than flatulence.

Let us not forget Valentine’s Day – the heart shaped holiday; a cardboard cutout of romantic blossoms; proven love with sentimental cards and candy and flowers…

 V-day — a cruel occasion for the lonely and broken hearted who would today be happy with

that so-so dinner date and obligatory sex.

The days are so short – yet so long.

Alas, a reason to utilize the fireplace – don’t forget to plant your potatoes.

Gaudy clumps of snow, bulky and shaped as if they had been intended for hail, tumble down like chopped feathers. The pansies are happy, their pastel petals rise and smirk beneath the thin white blanket of ice mocking the frost bitten flowers beside them.

Next week’s forecast is warm and dry.  We will take it, we have no choice.

We will ride the weather-coaster, counting the birthdays of dead leaders and full moons and scattered days of sunny and seventy-five while we wait for the ides of March to come marching in.


Dissing or Discussing Poetry (Thoughtful Thursday)

We are still two months away from NPM and poetry discussions are abuzz.  I love it!

I’m not even upset that one “genre” is dissing the other – I am just happy poetry is being discussed.

I clicked on a link/interview that was shared with a member of the Horror Writer’s Association and then BOOM I was knee deep in reading, searching and lurking a dozen other sites.

I [honestly] never considered a genre when writing poetry and probably couldn’t categorize if my life depended on it.  But [speaking of dissing] I’ll share Thoughts on Writing from Getting Me Back.

Except from Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)

Published May 17 2017


Thoughts on Writing  (The Requirements of an Author)

Desire: A congenital need to tell the story.

Determination: It is not enough to walk a couple of blocks or run five miles on a treadmill, come prepared to hike the Himalayas and explore the abyss.

An exoskeleton: A thick skin will not suffice — no indeed. Colleagues and critics are apt in the sadistic art of shaving and burning the thickest of flesh; their tireless wheel of pumice leaving the toughest callouses raw and bleeding. They will thin your skin; get beneath it and prove your vulnerabilities. Like a flesh eating bacteria they will consume you — kill you if you let them.

A poker face: Never let them see you sweat.

Gratitude: Because no one owes you anything!

Grace: For the rise and the inevitable fall.

Pills and booze and smoke: Because it is a hard and hateful world and you are not a god-damned ant.