october blue

october blue

the sky of a sunny crisp morning

i sit and sip from a steaming coffee cup

there are people i know

that don’t think i deserve

even this simple pleasure

sitting on the front step

i have failed to be who i was supposed to be

who i was supposed to be is not clear

but i am not…

not…

i don’t know who i am not

i will take another sip of coffee and…

well, tomorrow i will figure it out…

maybe…

i think first though

i will try to figure out who i am

it seems more important than

who i am not

the sky being october blue

is not a failure because it is not august

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Filed under poems, poetry, Pubs, Spiritualty, writing

where is home for you?

where is home for you?

there is a pub

it’s not like other pubs

but really

no two pubs are the same

are they?

people i care about come to this pub

people that care about me come to this pub

not every night

but they come

they eat

they drink

they listen to the music

music is always heard in this pub

always in the background

sometimes even live

but always music

it warms the heart

whether it’s really heard or not

and we talk

talk is always heard at the pub

always important things are said

but not always profound

the beer is cold

that’s my preference

but i suppose warm can be had as well

and when the evening is done

i am better for having been there

it is home for me

where is home for you?

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Filed under Humor, love, poems, poetry, Pubs, Spiritualty, writing

Upnorth’s Summer Festival

Here’s the truth: Today the blog returns to its original purpose and concept. (It’s been too long!)

        Halloooooooo! Mulligan “Mugs” O’Brew here. Well, I have not written a regular entry here for over a year. Okay, so I’ve been busy, and I had writer’s block, and  lot of stuff has been going on, and blah, blah, blah…

Anyway, I thought I might report to you on this day of blog renewal, about the goings on in Upnorth, U.S.A. If you will remember, that’s the town that is close to The Pub, the town that, technically, The Pub is in. As with all towns, we have a town council.  As with most government bodies, efficiency is not our strong suit. I say “our” because I am on the town council. We have a serious problem that goes to the heart of our inefficiency: we have six council members. Why is this a problem? Even number. We always seem to vote 3 to 3. We even tried to add a seventh member once, but the resolution failed, as the vote was once again 3 to 3. Last week this problem issued forth in a brand new way.

Every year we renew our effort to come up with a definite theme and dates for the town’s annual summer festival. At the meeting last week, we managed to come up with a list of five possible themes. “Fish Story Days”, was my suggestion. Then we had “Get Down in Upnorth” (not clear on what would happen with this one), “Enchanted Pine Forest Jamboree”, “Pine Cone Festival”, and “Road Kill Food Fest”. When no one had another to offer, I thought that finally we had a winner; we had five choices and six voters!  Well, the vote was 1 to 1 to 1 to 1 to 1, with Pastor Emil abstaining. He said he didn’t want to offend anyone.

That, I am afraid to say, was just the beginning of the frustration. At the end of the meeting, it was decided that this year’s festival will be called ”Something Day(s) Festival Celebration Jamboree” and will occur August 11, 12, 13, & 14 possibly, but Saturday August 13 for sure, unless it’s Sunday August 14.

So, come join us for all the… er… fun… One thing’s for sure, anyway. The Pub will be open!

Keep on Peddlin’,

Mugs

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Filed under America, Government, Humor, Pubs, writing

armistice

they looked at one another

down the barrels of their guns

right into each others eyes

into each others hearts

their lives never came here by choice

their homes far away

their families in another world

they looked at one another

down the barrels of their guns

as though into a mirror

the guns were lowered

between them passed a moment

then another

no shots fired

neither joined the ranks

of their fallen brethren today

no memorials needed

for either one

today

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“good to hear from you though…”

just a short note

saying he’s an annoyance

all the years

everything he had to give given

”i keep getting your junk mail

it has to stop”

sorry is all he can say

sorry that being related is a problem

sorry that he cares at all

“good to hear from you though…”

the salt to the wound goes unmentioned

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Filed under children, Family, love, poems, poetry, writing

door mat

say nothing

what matters

is leaving the bridges unburned

do nothing

don’t rock the boat

don’t ruffle any feathers

always leave the door open

swallow the anger

and humiliation

and pain

be patient

there will come a time

when they will see

when they will care

don’t give them anything

to justify their actions

besides

you’ve done it for more than three decades

so why change now

actually being a doormat

is pretty easy work

when you think about it

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Christmas 2010

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Filed under Humor, Pubs

new snow

it’s not much

just another night

like most of the rest actually

so many nights just the same

but it’s not the same

at least not exactly

as any other night

winter has decorated for christmas

new snow

twinkling stars come to earth

alighting on tree branches

glittering the ground

cold

but no pain

a serenity almost forgotten

crisp and still

and a moment

just a moment

when subtle beauty

offers a peace

that the heart

has needed for too long

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Filed under poems, poetry, Pubs, Spiritualty, Weather, writing

no remorse

in the whole or in pieces

examination reveals nothing understandable

a mystery either way.

opinions may be offered

thoughts and theories can be entertained

but in the end it doesn’t matter

backs are turned on the innocent

backs are turned on the weak

backs are turned on the truth

self righteousness

self indulgence

hubris

and come sunday even god’s blessing

makes for a guiltless conscience.

no remorse if there is no sin

no sin if there is no victim

no victim if cast as villain

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Filed under America, children, Education, Family, God, poems, poetry, Politics, Pubs, Religion, Schools, Spiritualty, writing

what matters

“i cannot play this game anymore!”

“this is not a game”

“but you keep asking me to do things,

things that are wrong

i won’t do them anymore!”

“i asked you to make choices”

“but, i don’t like the choices i made”

“why did you make them in the first place?”

“because, there were no good choices!

you left me with only bad choices…”

“and you chose…”

“yes…but i hate what i did…”

“why?”

“because, it was wrong, damn it, the choices were wrong!”

“why were they wrong?”

“because, they hurt people!”

“but you said you had no good choices

all bad, you said

so they all would hurt people, right?”

“but i don’t want to hurt people! especially them!”

“so what you don’t want to do is hurt people, right?”

“yes…i’ve…i’ve done it too much…”

“then there is nothing wrong…”

“what?!”

“are you alive?”

“obviously, yes…”

“then you will hurt people…

but it’s what else you do that matters…”

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