At twenty-one my limber legs
Could run without complaint,
My creaking back was years away
I was never tired or faint.
But years of active vibrant use
Have slowly robbed me blind,
Of these mortal strengths and gifts
Leaving memories behind.
Category Archives: Peter’s Writings
Things Peter writes for his own benefit, not necessarily intended for or made available to the general public.
Farewell Facebook
As a general rule, I am not an early adopter. I typically wait until the development of a new product has stabilized, features have improved, bugs have been worked out, and prices have come down. This was the case for my use of Social Media. I never once even viewed MySpace, I have no idea what the draw are to Twitter, Snapchat, Pinterest, and Instagram, and I even avoided Facebook up until just a couple years ago.
I began using Facebook a few years ago when I realized I was missing out on things my family were doing. I have … Read the rest
Tapestry
Single threads placed one at a time
Contrasting in color and tone
When viewed from the weavers stance
Seem random and jumbled - meaningless
Laid in over time and with great effort
It asks us to wait, then step away
To discover the grander design
Compromise
You say I block you from success,
That my needs cannot be met,
Without sacrificing what you need.
You have not listened to understand,
Nor given me time to teach,
What and why or discuss alternatives.
There is space in the ground between,
What you need and want aren't one,
Step back and then meet me in there.
We can do what needs doing together,
We can both find some room to withdraw,
And then forward together much stronger.
Vacation
It’s supposed to be fun, I return exhausted
To a pile of work not done
And no extra time to do it
With a wallet that’s empty
And experiences I could live without.
I Forget
I had a verse inside my head,
But left without a pen,
It floated there a fleeting moment,
And now it’s lost and dead.
Spring
A twittering echos through the air Singing the music of spring As a new generation steps to embark On the journey of all living things
Recreational work
Stop, I'm told, and smell a rose. Pause and take a break. So I comply. The smell offends my nose. Why don't you do what others do? I'm asked without words. But I'm not them. Must I pretend to be like you? What's wrong with loving work? Both the process and results? Rest is wearying. But labor refreshes and refuels.
Because I Can
I'm told it'd be better and cost less, If I hired the experts to do it. They reason true. I know. My time's too costly for stuff like this, I should just pay someone else. Again, they're right. I know. But money and time aren't the point, I do it myself 'cause I can. Joy has value. I know.
Caught it…
The rumble of wheels on gravel I prick my ears and take position For years I've tried diligently but failed Today is the day -- I will catch it today I launch with all the power in me It draws near and I lengthen my stride Barking fiercely and closing the gap A mouthful of rubber -- thrill of success Then searing pain and darkness close in As I ask myself why I wanted this.