A Long and Somber Sigh

Fresh flecks of human bourbon spilt
..Still bright, not dull and dry—
Red spirits splashed on solemn silt
..Swift sober footsteps ply
For exit from this harried chase,
..From crystal pistol scry,
From blistered bleeding brutal race:
..A beg, a plead, a cry
For help breathes forth from silent lips,
..Sharp glance from vacant eye
Quick backward shot, while forward trips,
..Yet scrambles up to try
One last attempt, though fading fast,
..A lamp with no supply
Of oil, the Argo with no mast
..And tempest waiting by:
..A brusque and bitter bye.

Beyond My Logic

Step back, take a minute to take it all in
In spite of my weakness, in spite of my sin
For reasons unknown, known only to Him
He chose me.

Yes, Truly Yes

“I won the battle because I used my self-destruct!”
“But you killed yourself.” “No, I jumped out and then ducked!”
“I’m the Lego destroyer and he’s the Lego builder.”
“She drank the knockout wine, but it looks like they killed her.”
“If I shoot you with this spleen gun it means you cough up your spleen.”
“Oh no!  He’s using the red-hot-flaming-pizza-sauce-machine!”
“Let’s have a swordfight to the uttermost!”
“You’re on my team—together he’s toast!”
“Put your hands behind your back; you’re a prisoner of this nation.”
“Go get another belt!  (Let me know if you’re losing circulation.)”
“Any last words before we march you to the cave?”

“I’m back!  Now be honest, did the boys behave?”

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Because Russ L asked

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