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Break Out
I am about to break-out, whoa does that mean my face, from jail, or flying free.
On the surface, break-out is fairly mundane, not to me. I am growing at a rapid pace, and no not my weight. My inner self flies in the face of reality. I expand away from the law, both of man and convention. I can say or do what is conceivable, and that friends is inconceivable. Come watch me fly. walterstephengeeding.com
BREAK OUT
Epicenter, pandemic,
jailbreak yo.
Catch me on the rebound
Because away I go.
Outside, inside tells to me
Lose all dirty legal things.
I’m cutting for the breakout
Quiet freedom in me sings.
As the old comedian used to say: “How sweet it is!”
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I am writing number two in my series of marital discord blogs and poems.
Marital disharmony came to mind as I walked up the drive the other night.
Big game today, or every day for us patriots.
A short 55 years have passed since last I shot myself, seems like only yesterday.
I’ve always been a dog man, oh don’t get me wrong, cats are ok but they just aren’t loyal like a dog, so we had dogs.
A man in church with my wife listened to the sermon and remarked how he guessed we are all “second string angels.”
I’m full up on taking crap and keeping my mouth shut.
My fanciful love story, don’t you love this this time of year!
For some reason, I started thinking about a chicken in the hen-house.
My mind works in devious fashion sometimes, and this one came out at my wife’s request.