Almost Six

Handsome devil I was then.

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This is me at almost-six.
Happy in my roguish tricks;
Handsome devil I was then,
Full of dreams that might-have-been –

If I was back there again,
I’d, no doubt, do what I did;
For, we’re always “us” at heart,
That’s a fate that none can rid –

So I’d laugh and cry and run,
Trip and fall and skin my knees;
Drive my older brother nuts,
Get my pizza with plain cheese –

Read and read and read and read –
That’s what I did at that age;
If I did go back again,
I’d devour every page

Just as I did way back then.
I can’t say those days I miss:
All they were is what they were —
Food for kindly prompts
Like this

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Daily Prompt: “Life’s a Candy Store” — You get to be a 6-year-old kid again for one day and one day only — plan your perfect 24 hours. Where do you go, what do you do, and with whom?

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Racing, Racing –

My mind is racing, racing all the time.

Prompt: Tell us about something you know you should do . . . but don’t.

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I know that I should stop and think, but can’t –
My mind is racing, racing all the time.
It’s not that opportunities are scant,
 But that I act as though to stop’s some sort of crime

My mind is racing, racing all the time;
In constant storytelling, and in rhyme.
About all that I know, the kitchen sink:
 But all the while I know I need to stop and think

The First Time…

Day and night, this was.

The first time that I kissed her,
On a scale of one to ten,
Was roughly, oh, a three.
So she said: “Let’s do that again.”

The second time was better,
Some nice form, some good technique –
The third time, we had slipped a bit
But that was not our peak —

For by the forty-seventh time
We’d got it mostly right.
But still, we practiced half the day
And well into the night

For anything worth doing
Is worth doing really well:
And it was great. But I’ll stop there.
Hey, I don’t kiss
And tell

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Night and Day

Have you ever had an experience that was amazing the first time, but terrible the second time around? Or vice versa? What made it different the second time?

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Summa Potestas

“… missing what it cannot do…”

Intellects, they come in all
Sorts of shapes and sizes;
But rarely will the smartest one
Also be the wisest

For smartness has such vanity
That evil’s often wrought;
So taken with what it can do
Missing what it cannot

If my brainpower grew tenfold
It might cause some alarm;
For brains are tools, and can be used
For good things, or for harm

Examine human history
Its many evils, sad —
See every step in human knowledge:
Just more power
For bad

(..)

Zinged

There was a love who left her, long ago –
She thinks about him still, and every day;
And although we’ve been married all these years,
I can’t make up for what she lost with him

For nobody gets over their first love:
Though she was very young, that love was all –
And there’s been something missing in her life
The long years since her daddy went away

For arrows through the heart aren’t all romantic;
And what love’s s’posed to be, it often isn’t

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