give my regards to eternity

 

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Point and click

the world and all of it’s secrets are yours

Point and click

How does it taste, how should I look, how does it feel?

Point and click

Wait.

Oh God where is my phone?

Point and click

Point and click

Point and click

Tell me now, I must hurry, I must run, out of my way!

I can’t be late

to my waiting grave.

Daily Post: Dash

Echo Was Here

Photo A.M. Moscoso

I used to visit my friend here- my dog Sham is buried under the trees.

My friend died, her Mom moved away years ago.

Sham is even gone, I suppose

Photo A.M. Moscoso

I used to play in the woods here, I won my first fist fight here, smoked my first cigarette here.

It’s all gone now.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

I was here, once upon a time.

Now I’m just an echo, waiting to be heard.

Hamish and The Poison Bee

My dog is a Chocolate Labrador in name only.

He’s more like a fuzzy happy garbage can that eats whatever you drop into it- need I mention that I’m sure he’s the reason why my cat’s litter box is suspiciously clean at times?

Together it’s safe to say that Hamish eats anything.

Anything that is except for the Baby’s Bee ( that’s what we call pacifiers in my family- Bees ) that turned up in the street on our walks.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Hamish sniffed the Bee once and from then on he walks wide circles to get away from it- not only does he avoid it I’ve noticed other dogs doing the same thing.

It’s been there for almost two weeks now- so I named it the Poison Bee.

( Hamish putting hate on the Poison Bee )

Sometimes I’ll be going through my day or just as I fall asleep at night or when I wake up in the morning and I think to myself- what is it with that Bee…the Poison Bee…and I’m starting to think maybe it’s got to me, that it’s in my system working it’s way through my blood like poison does.

Maybe.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

BEWARE THE POISON BEE

H.Macbeth

 

Here’s Spit-Er Beauty In Your Eye

We prize beauty.

We have fought wars for it, killed for it, allow doctors to slice and carve our flesh and fill it with silicone, metal, and even magnets to shape it, to bend it and force to make our bodies beautiful.

From The Article: 12 Most Bizarre Body Implants       

Yes his tattoo has breast implants.

 

 

I have seen a lot of death and various stages of decay in my life time and this is what I’ve learned about the life expectancy of beauty.

You can change it, redefine it, shame people for having it or not having it.

But if you look at it, if you really open your eyes to it beauty is there is always there in all things  and it takes many forms.

I try to appreciate it and enjoy  seeing it no matter what shape it takes.

I think it makes me a kinder person- to both myself and others.

Photo A.M. Moscoso
Photo A.M. Moscoso
Photo A.M. Moscoso
Photo A.M. Moscoso
Photo A.M Moscoso

 

Daily Post Prompt: Exposed

I Wrote This. In Ink.

Photo: A.M. Moscoso

 

Anybody with the Facebook account can be a writer or a journalist.

Anybody with an Instagram Account can be a Media Star.

So I’m beginning to wonder,

what’s the point in it all.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

If everyone is talking

is anybody listening

or are we just waiting for

someone, anyone to pause for a breath

so we can jump in and

for a moment shine?

 

I used to think that

writing and painting

drawing and singing, acting and photography

was a craft you worked at

dedicated yourself to

learned about and lived all of the time.

It lived in your soul.

 

Now all you have to do is enter your password

click and flick and there you are

securing your immortality on the internet

among photobombing cats and dogs

clueless  millennials, angry Bernie Bros

superstars all.

 

I think I’d better keep writing and reading

creating and listening

walking the world,

getting lost, being found

with my dog at my side, and not my phone

gloriously

independent

Anita Marie

a renaissance woman

app free

Vilhelm Hammershøi

Daily Post Prompt: Better

hellhounds and me

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Yesterday an impressive storm rolled into town.

I watched it move up from Seattle-, there was thunder and lighting  and the clouds were dark and light and they swirled together in odd patterns as it moved into our area.

I’ve seen storms like that in the Midwest- not so much in the Pacific Northwest.

Here’s an interesting factoid:

I’ve almost been hit by lighting about four times.

Yesterday  on the bus ride home it hit somewhere close to us and the right side of the bus filled up with a flash of silver light.

I don’t know why I felt guilty, but I wasn’t surprised it was that close. It usually is.

I’m starting to think of lighting as the Hell Hound On My Trail.

Like Robert Johnson sang, I gotta keep moving I guess.

I got to keep movin’, I got to keep movin’
Blues fallin’ down like hail, blues fallin’ down like hail
Hmmm-mmm, blues fallin’ down like hail, blues fallin’ down like hail

And the days keeps on worryin’ me
There’s a hellhound on my trail, hellhound on my trail
Hellhound on my trail

 

Photo A.M. Moscoso
Photo A.M. Moscoso

 

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Daily Post Prompt: Panicked