What an utterly bizarre week. The end of the week has come, and I feel certain I accomplished nothing at all. Yet, I have proof to the contrary. Fever is a terrible thing, which is closely followed by anesthetic on the list of things I would prefer to avoid at all costs. Clyde is back. Snuggle in with a cuppa.
This week held some firsts for M3. If you missed the noon post, you got an explanation for Mantra being missing after Muse for Monday. This was M3’s first week, since her initial appearance, where Mantra got no play beyond Muse. After my trepidation about letting her out of the lantern on M3, I suppose I have gotten accustomed to having the poetry hanging about.
Another first was the pass on hatemail. Friday Follies this week was different because three posts drew some of the nastiest vitriol sent to me in many years. Despite hatemail to the contrary, M3 is not providing an abuser’s handbook in serial format.
Raising awareness is never truly easy. Regardless of the cause, there will always be some died-in-the-wool idiot who has precisely zero concept of why its awareness needs to be raised. Last week’s departure from our regularly scheduled SEP, and the two subsequent follow up posts, proved beyond any shadow of doubt Neanderthals walk (and use the Internet) amongst us.
Compliments of search engines, M3 has its first 1,000 view post. Wouldn’t you know it? It is an awards show. It is the one which awarded the largest number of blogs, and by all accounts is an SEO nightmare which breaks every rule in the book for getting found. By my records, it is reached from 14 different languages.
On that note, I blow one very large, very loud raspberry at the SEO trade whilst shining the moon. You really should let it pop into another tab so you can see why there is a brouhaha over it. And for those willing to burst my bubble, please let me enjoy this one.
Also compliments of the search engines, some really bizarre terms are trending on M3. Vote which one you think is highest on the weird-o-meter.
After the votes are in, someone will get to explain to me precisely how these get to be alleged search terms and then will face the uphill battle of explaining how they pertain to M3.
Since the last time we recognized M3 Readers, there are a number of new bloggers who are becoming regular visitors at M3. In alphabetical order, they include:
Why have I called these particular bloggers onto the virtual carpet? They do not have links to their blogs in the Green Room. If you were inadvertently omitted from this list, please comment profusely and leave your link in the Green Room as well. You, too, can share in the awards. All of these bloggers have earned the Red Educational Shoe Award.
If you are confused, read the instructions. It does not have to be a chain letter award…hence, why there is a maybe in a post named Naughty. Display your bit of high fashion proudly!
(Technobabble: If you want the picture bigger, click on it to load it in its own tab before you right click to save the picture.)
By now, most of you have noticed the very large box in the right sidebar. I am personally welcoming you to the blog network where I promote the M3 Readers and the blogs I haunt when I am not here. Each of you is more than welcome to leave a link to your latest blog post. Some of the bloggers there do not have their own pages.
I share them with my extended Facebook network. Yes, I do have more than 5,000 FB contacts, hence the name. If you have a FB page, stop by and like 5,000 as your page, and I will gladly reciprocate and promote for you.
Right Turn, Clyde!
Now, instead of going into something deep and philosophical, we are going to take a different tack into deep and philosophical. What follows is a series of poems, I offer with no back story. It is up to you to determine whence they spring.
I am going to title them, but do not let the titles lead you astray. They span a number of decades, so they are not linked by any single event. In fact, they are not linked by a single relationship.
A falling star streaks across the twinkling sky.
While a wish tries desperately to form,
a single tear falls silently from my eye.
I struggle to hold on to that half-formed wish.
It is slipping through my grasp, no matter
how hard I try to capture that elusive wish.
It is being pushed out by a thought so strong
it hasn’t a chance of forming into something
in which I could revel the rest of the night long.
My heart is pushing the thought across my mind,
consuming it like a flame in a tinder box
fanned by an unfeeling, arid, searing wind.
The flow of emptiness is stronger than ever before,
revived in the stillness of the starry night,
laying open my heart, again aching sore.
I know I’d wish that my heart not beat so sad
from a loss it never should have suffered,
though to live the alternative could have been as bad.
As the figures in the painting dance on the wall
And as the smoke swirls toward the light,
A match lit ignites the flame of the candle.
No one knows. I may just do it right.
Light another cigarette. Think a little more.
About whom do I worry? What debts have I to pay?
Another light drag, and others appear.
How have I lived? What would people say?
Flash, and it lights again. The curls foggy blue.
Wax drops over the edge of the crystal,
And I make up my mind, at long long last.
Good night, my love…et al.
Touch of Happiness
Tonight, I come not bearing gifts.
I come into the darkness
With nothing more than a soft look
And a touch of happiness.
Stars twinkle beside the glowing moon.
Enveloped in the cool darkness
Do you think together we can
Share a touch of happiness?
The dawn warms the sky with rose swirls
Banishing the fading darkness.
As I disappear from sight,
Savor your touch of happiness.
Did you have any firsts this week? What are the poems really saying? Which one touched you the most?
Just a bit of business: The poll closes tonight. Please vote. If your answer has changed, please vote again.
© Red Dwyer 2012
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