onthemarkside:

I pulled back an old tarp and found this dusty old thing. Thought I’d kick the tires and take it for a spin…

Originally posted on on the mark side:

Icarus flew too high
Fell burning to earth

Yet I will beat my wings
Raging against Newton’s Law

How high is too high
Will the solar winds warm me

I might burn like Icarus
On the way down

If I perish
Spiraling, engulfed in flames

I will streak across the sky
And all will see my swan song

It will be whispered about
A song sung In the dark

But not forgotten
And some will follow me up

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In to the Pit

Posted: December 31, 2014 in Poetry

Bass rumbles and rolls at 30 Hz
Snare cracks and guitar roars

Coiled like a spring
I leap in to the pit

Blood and sweat
Muscle and bone

A playground
Where no one is picked last

Lest we forget…

Posted: May 26, 2014 in In Memorium, Ramblings

When does patriotism become merely another version of fandom?  Do we diminish the value of service by branding it with empty nationalism?

Today is Memorial Day in the United States.  We have set this day aside to remember and pay tribute to our war dead.  Many also memorialize family and friends who have passed.

As I’m wont to do, I begin to ponder things on days like this.

I feel a sense of solemnity on Memorial Day.  Sure, it’s the start of Summer and a nice three day weekend that lends itself to the beach, pool and cook outs, and there’s certainly nothing wrong with those things.

Somewhere in the number of 1.3 million American troops have died in war during our country’s history.  That’s a pretty staggering number.  That’s a lot of graves, not all of which are on U.S. soil.

Not really sure I have much of a point beyond that number.  1.3 million.  How many more before we’re done?

Shot, stabbed, decapitated, disemboweled, burned alive, drowned – all the the horrible ways you can die…

We wrap it up in ceremony and parades.  Do we do this to salve our consciences?  Wouldn’t no more war be a better memorial?

Start Again

Posted: May 23, 2014 in Running
Tags:

I ran a half marathon this Sunday past.  It was my third.  I recorded a PR.  That’s Personal Record for you civilians.  The course was hillier than I anticipated, but I was largely undaunted.  I struggled a bit with the final two miles, which included the dreaded “Hospital Hill”.

I haven’t run at all this week.  In part to rest and in part out of fear that I can’t run anymore.  Strange.

This morning, a day off work, I feel good – legs feel rested and recovered.  And yet, I kind of dread lacing up and heading out for a run.

Why?  I have no idea.

It’s going to be a beautiful day for a run…

 

How We Remember

Posted: May 23, 2014 in Ramblings

onthemarkside:

In anticipation of Memorial Day

Originally posted on on the mark side:

This weekend in the USA we celebrate Memorial Day, a day for remembering our war dead.  It has become the de facto beginning of Summer, yet we still take time to stop and remember and say a prayer of thanks for those who’ve made the ultimate sacrifice for our county.  Remembrance and honor.

It’s gotten me to thinking about the nature of memory and it’s step-child, nostalgia.

Memory is a funny thing.  Two people can have such different recollections of the same events.  I’ve always wondered about that, how it could be.  It seems that our memories are subject to the many things that shape our perspectives, our perceptions, our reality.

Events that are crystal clear in our minds today may fade and become fuzzy over time, the rough edges of memory smoothed and rounded like pebbles in a stream.  Is it a self defense mechanism or more like a…

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Summertime Blues…

Posted: May 23, 2014 in Ramblings

onthemarkside:

Upon the advent of another Summer…

Originally posted on on the mark side:

I have a certain melancholy about Summer as an adult. Just as a Friday brings awareness of the next Monday, the start of Summer leads down the path to Autumn. Death, decay and darkness.

I’m quite the buzz-kill, I know. I can’t help myself.

Maybe I romanticize Summer too much.

Growing up in an age of childhood freedom, inspired by the books of Mark Twain, I see summer in the hazy gauze of my memories. Oh how I miss those carefree adventures. Riding, running, swimming, playing ball, tag and cowboys and Indians. Cruising the roadsides and ditches for glass bottles to turn in at the local gas station for the nickel deposit to fund our snack habits. Riding to the pool and spending all day taking advantage of the summer pass that Dad bought. Building forts in the carcasses of trees knocked down by the latest storm. Building bike ramps…

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AM

Posted: October 28, 2013 in Poetry

It’s dark and cold

I’m surrounded by mewling and yipping beasts

some even dare the pretense of a roar

the herd lurches on

an undead thing soon to rise