On My Last Day

On my last day
I will see you
for the
first time
Live my life
in an instant
No regrets
or longing
I have done what
I chose to do
.

Can I express
to you now
What was
unexpressable
before
Can you know
me now
When I was
so unknowable
then

.

Dust me off
Lay out my suit
Make me smile
with plasticine
Take me away
Lift the veil
Its old home
week, I hope

.

Can I
empathize now
What was
unsympathetic
before
Can you love
me now
When I was so
unlovable
before

.

On my last day
I will know you
for the first time
Love my love
in an instant
No hesitation
or pause
It can only
be this way.

.

!! HOY !!

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Shannon Alder says:

“Carve your name on
hearts, not tombstones.
A legacy is etched into
the minds of others
and the stories
they share about you.”

You Go To My Head

A melody can evoke
memories like no other
stimulant of the senses.

That song–

— you know the one–

the one that
you hadn’t heard
in many years ..

and then,
so vaguely
and
hauntingly familiar.

Flashes of faces,
and places.

A smile slips slowly
across your lips.

A warm feeling,
and for just a second,
you’re back there
all over again.

You can’t help
but wonder —

What happened to
that particular
instant in time —

— that very special spot
on the space-time
continuum ?

And just where
in that refrain
were all those
remembrances stored ?

If you had the
old sheet music,
would you find
it encoded
somewhere deep
between the notes,
beats and rests —

– – a mere breath – –
– a whisper –
a 32nd of a 64th ?

Perhaps it was
in the key —
or the harmonics.

Something made that
piece stand out from
among all the
hulabaloo,
dissonance,
claptrap,
and syncopated
pandemonium
of daily life….

What was it —
— that brought back
that time,
and that place.

And oh,
That Face.

.

! HOY !

Do You Remember

remember

I had an interesting
email from a new
reader yesterday.

I guess the writer must
be pretty young,
because although,
there were plenty
of positives in the note –

— there was also
the gist that this blog
relies way too much
upon references,
concepts,
perspectives,
and illustrations
that are:kiddie
out of touch,
out-moded,
out of date,
and just plain out.

Basically, I guess
that means
we’re dusty,tryand
musty and
crusty, even.

Our frame of reference
is rather passé,
anachronistic,
démodé,
and old fashioned.try

Yep,
so right.

And I don’t mind
any, or all, of that.

Because while
the email gave mesuit
some pause for reflection,

(and made a good topic
for our main post today–)

— the truth is that those very
propensities toward the
arcane and archaic are
a big part of what thisprop
whole blog is about.

A guy in his late 50’s (like I am)
learns (or, hopefully learns)
to be able to distinguish
between the oldies,
the goldies and the moldies.

Hopefully, we can interpet themkids
all on the Müscleheaded Blog
in a way that is still meaningful….

— and if not that,
then at least,
we can have
some fun with them.

Remembering the relics
of the past is part and parcelfredstone
with learning from the past –

It’s important to understand
that living, breathing, feeling
human beings, just like us,
produced and enjoyed them-
they meant something to them.

Yes, just as our relicsforgetbeach
mean something to us,
and as we’d hope that
they mean something
to someone in the future.

Perhaps it’s too much
to expect that they will
feel the same about them
as we do…..forge

…… but it’s enough
that we can share part
of those things that
we experience in our
short time here.

Let succeeding generations
make what they will of it.bathing

I am content.

.

!!!!!!! HOY !!!!!!!!

.

The Daily Retro: Rosemary is for Remembrance

This beautiful antique postcard is from World War I,
picturing a young woman saying farewell to her soldier sweetheart. 

It’s caption refers to the words of Ophelia,
from Act 4, Scene 5, of Shakespeare’s great play ‘Hamlet’:

rosemary-for-remembrance

“There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance.
Pray you, love, remember.”

Pray we all do.