Three O'clock In The Morning...
Three o'clock in the morning is a hell of a time to waken with a sinus headache; head pounding beneath the eyebrows, face feeling like the cheekbones are pushing through, sort of tender right in front of the ears... yeah,- you've been there, you know how it feels. Almost feels as if I should have been drinking.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|Marilyn (22.214.171.124) -- Wednesday, September 19 2007, 01:36 am|
Your writing was a nice break from a lot of stuff I have been reviewing. Hope u r feeling better. I was up with my daughter at the same time with the same thing. The old barometer is crashing in on everyone!
Hopefully your neighbor asks the savior, Who wore a crown of those thorns in his back yard, for salvation before it's too late. Good luck poet friend
|oldman (126.96.36.199) -- Wednesday, September 19 2007, 04:31 am|
Your neighbor sounds a little like me. I planted a bunch of sharp thorn holly bushes, to keep the kids next door from playing in my yard because their mom didn't want her yard messed up. So they had to play in everyone else's yard. Put up a big fence all around and planted all kinds of things to block the view of my neibor's out and all the prying eyes. The kids got big, now parking their cars in front of my house. So I planted big bushes. Their balls ended up in my back yard, so I got a big dog. Ha,ha, so I guess I'm a little bit like your neighbor, but not as bad. Just like my privacy.
|shiloh (188.8.131.52) -- Wednesday, September 19 2007, 04:41 pm|
all you were doing, oldman, was defending your privacy - he was being dangerously mean - those thorns were laid between the trees in such a way that the kids would step on them, driving them into their feet, or, if they fell there, they could have had one driven into their face, neck, or eye. bushes like you planted are one thing - home-made punji traps aimed at children are a whole other world. I didn't do what i wanted to do with some of those thorns, but it took a lot of effort not to.
|shiloh (184.108.40.206) -- Thursday, October 11 2007, 03:54 pm|
...died on the 28th of Sept. I've been working around whether or not to include that here, but since it is a part, the final part, of the story, I finally decided to add it as a comment. To his memory, I say: "Somnus puteus, fossor."
|shiloh (220.127.116.11) -- Monday, May 26 2008, 05:39 am|
A few have asked me what the above phrase, "Somnus puteus, fossor" means. It is Latin, and it is appropriate, I feel, for the person I intended it for - it means, "Sleep well, fool."
|shiloh (18.104.22.168) -- Thursday, August 12 2010, 12:32 am|
don's wife (whateverthehell her name is/was) died today. so much for all of their combined being "oh so much better" than everyone else... what did it get them? and just how angry can i remain? quite a bit, i guess...
Click here to read other Poems by Shiloh
Copyright©2018-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack
COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved. No part of this website, including all pictures and written words, may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without permission of the original author of the work. All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner. All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: email@example.com so the proper person may be notified.