Category Archives: Speakeasy

How’s Your Game?

Don't Blame the Sinner“The Chess Queens” by Muriel Streeter

Don’t blame the sinner
The one dressed in black
They both play the game
Sliding forward and back

Don’t praise the angel
The one dressed in white
Just like the sinner
She’ll capture your knight

The queen is your lady
With the most power of all
She’ll protect all you have
Or she’ll just let you fall

Your rook and your bishop
They can both dance around
While the squares are the same
This is not common ground

Do you worship the Devil
and deliver his sin?
Or do you trust in our God
who has cleansed us within?

You are the pawn
And this life is a game
For both black and white
The end is the same

The King will decide
But don’t sit and wait
You can be in check
Or you can checkmate

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This was written for the Speakeasy #149
Beginning with “Don’t Blame the Sinner”
And referencing the picture “The Chess Queens” by Muriel Streeter

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Vote for me here on Thursday!

Our Only Purpose

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the world and its characters are always confused
without tangible things our egos are bruised
performing for others a sinister lie
lying in bed we then ask ourselves why

money is evil and one day we’ll learn
we don’t need it all and we won’t crash and burn
we know the difference between right and wrong
we don’t have to be criminals just to belong
no one could ever know what happened here
when there were no rules no remorse and no fear
life could be simple with no inner wars
if we cherished the sun and the moon and the stars
take a deep breath and be thankful today
that you have the choice to go your own way
you don’t have to impress me or another
just live for our God my sister and brother
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Written in response to the Speakeasy #148
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Using the words “No one could ever know what happened here”
and the video prompt One Republic – Counting Stars

Dances in Heaven

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There was a time when things were different.

When she greeted herself with “Good morning beautiful” as she brushed her pearly whites, put on her make-up and curled her hair.

When she cooked her eggs sunny side up. And buttered her toast with that fancy squeeze butter that would allow her to paint on it a smiley face looking back at her.

When she whistled to herself every day the tune “You are my sunshine” as she sat in bumper to bumper traffic during her drive into town.

When she greeted strangers on the elevator with a cheerful laugh and wished them all a blessed day as they got off on their floor.

When she danced in the rain.  And made angels in the snow.  And basked in the sun.

When she prayed to God every night and thanked Him for the day that had passed and for the day that will come.

That was before.

Before she lost her dad to alcoholism.  And her mom to cancer.
Before her son succumbed to mental illness.  And her dog to old age.

When she spoke to someone other than the hideous miserable reflection in the mirror that now stared back at her in disgust.

When she listened to someone other than her beloved parrots that simply repeated the words she wanted to hear.

You will always be Daddy’s little girl

Mommy will never leave you darling

I’m so glad you are my Momma

Before.

When the sound of her barking dog brought comfort to her and was not merely a distorted cry for help ringing over and over in her head.   Ringing until she couldn’t take it anymore.

Yes.  Yes indeed.  There was a time when things were different.

Very different.

Poetically different.

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Written in response to the Speakeasy #147

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I still waited …

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I allowed him into my brainibus
and let down the guard to my hearticuss

He smiled and said we were on autonever
Stupid me, I believed the assalever

Pardon my contrafibularities
There are simply no hilarities

We can all relate to the moronkaneller
He’s just another frankenfeller

Yet still, I sat there and waited, but he never came back