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Showing posts from August, 2013

TWO NEW POEMS

  G reetings Poetry fans (delivered in my best Bill Scott voice), I submit today, for your poetic approval, not one, but two new poems that I have no other place for, other than here in the KITCHEN. . .  "Under Brimming Stars"  by   James Patrick Lockett Under the brimming stars faint distant scent of coffee and campfire danced under my nose  and i thought of you distant laughter and the rattle of ice  in an empty glass filled my wonder  as to how you were now keeping warm  under the brimming stars.   AND...  "HIDE "  by  James Patrick Lockett                                            My eye is split,  I saw it in a reflection on the train,  between breaks that allowed the night to hug the window. And it allows me to see the two of you;  The you, you think you are, and the you, you are meant to be.  Not as others see you,  not as you
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    J ust this morning, I learned of the passing of an old friend, Gail Kobe.  Gail was not only the producer responsible for my stints on both Guiding Ligh t and The Bold and The Beautiful , she was a fine actress in her own right.  I still smile when I catch her in an old Twilight Zone , Mission Impossible , Outer Limits , Bewitched , etc. and I always will.  I had an old James Dean sweatshirt that I wore all the time, she never missed the opportunity to point out that she had been in East of Eden - I'll have to see if I can find a Gail Kobe sweatshirt.  Safe journeys, Ma'am. R.I.P.
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       So I was asked the other day, why I haven't posted anything of late (the past six-months late, apparently). My, how time flies when life is okay, huh?  I'd love to blame violence in Jim Carrey movies, or the continuing shenanigans of the reality show The Real Teapublicans of D.C., or better yet my personal laziness.  But it's none of those, folks - well, maybe a little of one - I'll let you pick.  Work is steady, no major stress or creative blocks, things have been too good for the b(itch)log-a-sphere.  But, I have to remember there are good things to write about. . .but then, moods, like frames of mind can change. . .