for a friend

If there was a star in the sky
I’d wish upon it
better days for you . . .
But sometimes it feels the stars
are all taken, leaving the sky dark and godforsaken; a desperate space

this self-imposed penance is just that
as is the self-denial of a solace richly deserved

the light of the soul never dies
but occasionally flickers;
a sign that things do change
black to white, night to day

there’s a star in the sky
and I’m wishing on it
better days for you . . .

if you’re left wondering about the star
* i put it there
just remember I may need you to find me one someday . . .
I wish you faith, love and a belief that life goes on
because it does.

~mikey

ps. so much for less posting, eh? :mrgreen:

It’s a major award!

I received the above award from my dear friend and colleague, Maureen (aka, Amum, Nanny, and Moe).
This February will mark the beginning of my fourth year of blogging and that someone describes Smoke and Mirrors as “awesome” leaves me a slight bit humbled.
I originally started blogging in an attempt to sort out the many difficulties I’d been facing regarding two parents caught in the grips of an insidious disease.
My hope was that my writing would help someone traveling the same strange road.
Though the scope here has changed somewhat, my intentions are still the same.
I want my writing to make a difference in the lives of people that read it.
Judging from the many comments I’ve received, I think it’s working.
Thank you Maureen for a most wonderful award.
You are a thoughtful and gentle soul.
If you’re wondering about the post title, click on my award.
My best to all in the coming year.
Stick around. I’m just getting warmed up . . .

~m

It's a major award!

I received the above award from my dear friend and colleague, Maureen (aka, Amum, Nanny, and Moe).
This February will mark the beginning of my fourth year of blogging and that someone describes Smoke and Mirrors as “awesome” leaves me a slight bit humbled.
I originally started blogging in an attempt to sort out the many difficulties I’d been facing regarding two parents caught in the grips of an insidious disease.
My hope was that my writing would help someone traveling the same strange road.
Though the scope here has changed somewhat, my intentions are still the same.
I want my writing to make a difference in the lives of people that read it.
Judging from the many comments I’ve received, I think it’s working.
Thank you Maureen for a most wonderful award.
You are a thoughtful and gentle soul.
If you’re wondering about the post title, click on my award.
My best to all in the coming year.
Stick around. I’m just getting warmed up . . .

~m

Blogger's Desiderata

“Stumble aimlessly amid the trolls and waste, but remember what peace there be in staring at your toes for a couple of weeks. As far as possible without surrender, be on good terms with all readers. Publish your posts quietly and clearly, and listen to podcasts, even the dull and garbled, for they too have a right to hog bandwidth. Avoid loud and aggressive bloggers. They are pains in the ass . . . “

This is without a doubt one of the best posts I’ve read lately.
I found it through Rain.
(And if you haven’t visited her yet, shame on you.)
Now click on the “Desiderata” above and prepare to be thoroughly entertained.
This is brilliant.
And yes, I wish I’d written it.
No comments are neccesary here.
Save them for Ian.

~m

 

Blogger’s Desiderata

“Stumble aimlessly amid the trolls and waste, but remember what peace there be in staring at your toes for a couple of weeks. As far as possible without surrender, be on good terms with all readers. Publish your posts quietly and clearly, and listen to podcasts, even the dull and garbled, for they too have a right to hog bandwidth. Avoid loud and aggressive bloggers. They are pains in the ass . . . “

This is without a doubt one of the best posts I’ve read lately.
I found it through Rain.
(And if you haven’t visited her yet, shame on you.)
Now click on the “Desiderata” above and prepare to be thoroughly entertained.
This is brilliant.
And yes, I wish I’d written it.
No comments are neccesary here.
Save them for Ian.

~m

 

*King

I turned around and there he was at the register.
It was all too brief an encounter.

“I read “The Shining” in 1977 when I was a freshman at Berklee College of Music. I’ve been a fan ever since,” I said.

{shake hands} (my hands were already shaking)

“Thank you,” he says (and eyes some cigars), “Cohiba! I just love saying that word!”

“I assume you’ll be at Fenway watching the asskicking tonight?”

“Yes, sir!” He says, smiling.

He paid for his smokes and walked to the door with nary a clue of how much I used to really love his stuff. I could almost hear myself saying, “Hey, I write, too!”

He turned and raised his hand and once again yelled, “Cohiba!”

Holy Crap, I thought, I just met Stephen King.
Truth . . .

~m

ps.
I’ve received several emails regarding me “losing my mind” after my last post.
Everyone can rest now. I found it this morning sleeping peacefully underneath the computer stand.
I hate when that happens. :0)
Thanks, folks . . . . (Mwwwuuuuuahhhhhhhahhahahahaha!)

No yolk, Ms. Neidelson

Maureen at the Nook came up with the idea of doing a rolling post. Each person who has volunteered to participate gets to add 3-4 sentences as their contribution. The participants are:

Moe

Red

Goinglikesixty

Cris

Poseidons Muse

Writer Chick

Karen

Evyl

Reg

Michael

Cowgalutah

Moe tagged the Muse and the Muse tagged WriterChick (Annie).

From Moe:

The curtains were drawn against the chill of an early winters evening. The only sound to be heard was a sigh as she poured over one of her interminable lists, this being for the coming weekends dinner party.

She was concerned how she would keep them apart after the recent unpleasantness.
It was unthinkable she not invite them both, but in doing the right thing by them, had created a problem for herself…..

From Poseidons Muse:

Drawing a soothing draught of red wine from her glass, she looked up from her list and stared across the room. A distant memory, like the transient flash of ‘his’ handsome smile, spurned her inner turmoil. She had developed feelings for Steven during her initial tenure at the University. Their first encounter seemed almost cliche. A fateful walk across an autumn campus, a stack of books falling upon golden autumn leaves, polite words spoken, lucid eyes meeting hungrily. Butterflies.

What had begun as an innocent friendship between colleagues (for Amy would later be introduced to Steven as a contemporary) later spurned into a brief, but torrid, romantic affair. When the couple resuscitated themselves from their grey moral vortex, they realised that they would make better friends than bed-fellows and had decided to remain in each other’s lives. Now, Amy had the task of playing chancellor and counsellor to her friend, as he struggled for a sense of equilibrium in his failing marriage. Once again, she sensed the butterflies.

From WriterChick:

Amy sealed both invitations, one for Steven and one for Margo, his estranged wife, and adhered a lovely tiffany art stamp to each. “I hope to God, they aren’t still arguing over custody of the dog or the chimp – helluva a dinner topic that will make.” She put the invitations aside for the post office run she would do in the morning and pondered the menu for the party. “Now what dish would both please Steven and compliment his lovely golden curls by candlelight – of course, curry!”

From Me:

Amy sat on the couch contemplating the difficult intricacies of the seating arrangement when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Neidelson, thank God you’re home. This is Dr. Shotzendach. I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

“No, doctor. I’m just sitting . . . Is everything okay?”

“Well, I do believe we’ve found the source of your equilibrium problem and I’m glad you’re sitting down. You’re two months pregnant. And here’s the best part: You’re having twins! Congratulations! Ms. Neidelson?”

“Uh . . . I don’t understand doctor . . . I mean, I understand but . . . how do you . . .”

“Your lab results and the CAT scan images told us all we needed to know. Ms. Neidelson? Ms. Neidelson, are you still there?!”

Amy began to laugh hysterically. A bit too hysterically . . .

Okay, so I’m tagging Evyl to pick up this little ditty where I am leaving off. An email will be off to him shortly to inform him of his duty. Let the xtra cheesiness continue!
(Annie, you introduced this so brilliantly I had to copy and paste!) ;)

BTW, if any of you would like to participate, just contact Moe at the Nook and she’ll add you.

~m

In the heart of a friend

Now and then someone writes a post especially for me and I find myself at something of a loss for words to convey my thanks and deep sense of gratitude.
Writer/Poet Sarah Flanigan reads between the lines of much of what I write and has
written an emotional and moving piece just for me.
Click on the window above to read “Behind the glass wall”.
You’ve touched my heart, Sarah.
And I thank you dearly.

~m

Pringles in the can

“When I write, I usually take a can of Pringles potato chips and eat only 13.
Any flavor will do. If that doesn’t satisfy me, then I eat 13 more.
While I’m eating, it gives me a good way to stop and look at what I wrote, and to concentrate on correcting my mistakes.
This is my lucky way (and an excuse) to write a good story while eating a good can of potato chips.” –Michele Jenkins

While searching for a post image I found THIS
Phriggin’ Pringles . . .
Have a great weekend folks

~m