What to do about Taco Throat…

For days, I’ve been sitting at my computer thinking of how the hell to get my new blog started. I’ve probably retyped the intro a million different ways. In fact, I’ve even considered putting an end to my blogging days…but, alas, I have too strong a desire to share my work. So, first things first a shout out to the people who have inspired me to keep on blogging, and sharing my work. Bridget Carson, who’s blog can be found at “forpunkslikeme.wordpress.com”, or you can do one better, and take her online classes (she’s a writing professor at U of Montana, and one of the best teachers I’ve ever had). Her online class can be found at “ainsley.thinkific.com/collections”. Eileen MacGairdener, another fellow blogger who’s inspired me, known better as the garden fairy, or butterfly on a rudder. Her blog can be found at butterflyonarudder.com, or on her Facebook page Butterfly on a Rudder. Finally, a shout out to probably the only blogger who’s blog I’ve consistently read and kept up with, Sage Suket. All three of these woman are tremendous people who could teach a lot of young woman about self-confidence and true beauty. Keep it up, ladies!


Now, my blog. A new site, with new poems, but the same basic idea. I may reshare some of the poems I posted on my last blog site, and I don’t know how often I’ll be posting. What I do know, is I some how managed to find 3 poems with the same subject just for this post. A few little diddies about time, and how it passes, and we die.

So, without further ado, Poems #1, 2, and 3



The Below’s-


the below’s

are calling,


lying about,

the hours of space,

time we have left,

my face

turns to dust,



gone to rust,


rubbing the ashes

of my memories

all over my body,

like soap,

washing myself

of happiness


answering the call from

the below’s,


the devil is as quiet

as god

and sand sinks through

the hour glass

as rivers flow

and dust flys in the wind

and our memories

whisper in our ear,

like an assassin,


and unwanted.


on your death bed

thinking of all

the wasted space,

and time we have left


the below’s

are calling,




how I’ll be remembered-


I sit in the electric chair

at 3 am

inhaling my demise,

the god of my death



how many days I have left


what I’ll do once I’m dead


the eye of the pyramid shines on

and 44 years later,

we still listen to 70’s music,

and read Dr.Seuss,

and watch Al Hitchcock flicks,

so they must be eternal,

just as the present moment must be


and all time must be



and I will live on

as all have lived on

in memory,

or in fiction



I’d be happy owning a cat-


There was a time

when the swings swung

so high,

we thought they might just

make us fly,

and the merry-go-rounds

spun so fast

that the rate at which time passed,


and our laughs,

and our jokes,

where innocent


there was a time

when everything we did

was a new first,

and every lesson we learned

was a new lesson,

and each mistake

was a new mistake.


there was a time

when our love

was only for our mom

and dad,

our family


there was a time

when we imagined

we could be kings

or great wizards

or presidents


those are times passed now

we’ve gotten too big

for the swings to swing

as high as they used to,

and the merry-go-rounds

no longer change time,


we laugh

in pain,

as a sad clown does,

our jokes don’t come with the same



we’ve seen some things,

learned the basic lessons,

and made the mistakes


we’ve held lovers,

and lost friends,

and drifted away from our mothers



we’d be happy as accountants,

number crunchers.

We’d be happy as cooks,

and dishwashers,

happy with a

boring office,

and a boring wife,

and a boring home.


we’d be happy

owning a cat,

or paying rent on time


we’d be happy

to just be able to die

as we lived

when we where younger,


aiming towards the sky,

time ceasing for us,






P.S.- If you read this blog for advice about taco throat, Im sorry. There is no information about taco throat available, and I honestly don’t even know what it is. But, if you have any ideas about what taco throat is, or how to avoid it, please, let me know.


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