Welcome back, join me and my continuing conversation about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to the world around me.
In this episode, I discuss being happy. It is a simple concept, but sometimes hard to execute. Listen to my story and strategy of trying to inject as much happiness into my day as I can. Plus I talk about how age is only a number when your inside is forever young. And, as always, I throw in a quote and a poem for good measure.
Enjoy!!
Welcome back, join me and my continuing conversation about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to the world around me.
In this episode, I discuss being finally back behind the microphone and continuing the conversation. No rhyme or reason for my sabbatical, just an abandoned podcast and zero excuses. I talk about where I have been and what I have been up to as a writer and some friendly banter. And, as always, I throw in a poem for good measure.
Enjoy!!
Those days of sitting on the curb with your childhood friends at the beginning of the warmest rain. – Ash
Welcome back, join me and my continuing conversation about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to the world around me.
In this episode, I talk about how thinking about the great Christmases of the past can make you excited for the Christmases of the future. Join me for a few memories with some of the backstories. Oh, and as always, I throw in a poem, no wait, a Christmas poem for good measure.
Happy Holidays!!
no idea where I was going
where my footsteps were taking me
not long off the bus and my bags still hanging off the borrowed bed
I’m running toward something
my faith in a girl next door relationship
built on the stock of only a few summers
we were school break friends and I just had to see this
according to everyone
and everyone was going to be there
that was the promise and with a pinky swear
I was a nervous boy in a foreign land
on loan from thirteen-year-old best buds
speaking only the language of the shy and quiet ones
making what would become a beautiful memory
under the bright big moon
along the sparkle-kissed river
surrounded by the sounds of the teenage
on a warm night in August
by the trestle bridge
One Saturday
an old used-up weekend in my life
back when I was a small boy who took shortcuts home
I remember that Saturday and how golden was the hillside
how the fences cast shadows through blades of long grass
while it danced when the wind played the lead
along the way I ducked clotheslines with flapping white blankets and wool socks
that made dogs bark for no reason
almost home I stopped to take a drink
from a cold stream with those floaty things
a puttering engine in the distance pulled me up for a look
when I do I see a fishing boat breaking the glass harbour
I become lost in the triangle wake of that trail the vessel leads behind
as its crew steams toward their living into the greying eve
while seagulls give chase for little company
it stretches a few seconds for me for some reason
captivates me, holds my breath, takes grip of my soul
until the lighthouse steals away the attention
enough to break my trance
in time to hear the voice of my grandmother who sings my name
through the hills
beckons my return from the adventures of my childhood
it won’t be long now, just cross the torn bush garden and the triangle stone
like I remember…one Saturday
There is nothing like keeping a deja vu in your back pocket. Easily triggered by the stimulus that surrounds you. Today, a walk to the edge of the harbour and my whole life flashed back. All it took was the smell of saltwater, the touch of a rains mist, and wonderful memories came flooding back as strong as the approaching tide. A picture is wharf a thousand words. – Ash
Red sky evenings
I remember them
stretched highway at eight o’clock
over the overpass to watch
there is one last summer night coming out to play
my pace quickens to catch up
traffic flies by this one road boy
who is wandering far from what he can recognize
adventure must be the same no matter where you are
until I pass by an old train track that divided two kinds
no friends from either so I move on
you could hear blades of grass keep a cool breeze in check
slowing down seconds for teenagers of the land
to win toys, steal kisses, and lose ice cream
it is impossible to be this alone
with Carnival noises filling the air
but the lights threaten shadows
the stars show up, crowds filter, I am lost
walking forever on the eve of September
heading back to the red road toward home
I remember nights growing up where a neighbourhood street light made for the perfect set piece to the play of summer. – Ash
I remember how long summer days were as a kid. It seemed as if there was time even between the seconds. – Ash
Earth To Ash 