Prodigal Poet: An Ecclectic Offering on God, Shakespeare, and the Beatles

I've decided that life should be more nonsensical . . . like a Monty Python sketch.  It should be full of giant cartoon feet descending from the heavens and awkward men wearing shorts and suspenders, shouting informative quips with a stunningly Hitler-esque mustache.  And most importantly, it should be full of people randomly yelling out, "SPAM!"   Life's hard . . . and stressful . . . and tiring . . . and . . . well, I'm sure you know all too well how to finish this sentence.  Fill in the blanks with your specific frustrations. :)  We've all got problems.  And quite frankly, some of us ARE problems.  So why not freshen things up with a nonchalant stroll through the park, with the silliest walk you can think of.  There is a Ministry for that sort of thing, you know? Just this weekend I could tell that my creative juices were beginning to overflow from neglect because I was seeing all sorts of strange creatures in the shapes and s...

One year ago today Kevin and I had to put our dog, Miko to sleep. She was just about to turn 14 years old. We never did know the exact day . . . just that it was around the 20th of February. Some of the time we would get her a birthday gift, usually special dog treats of some kind. But we never did that very consistently. Sometimes I really wish that we had. I suppose it would quell a bit of the guilt that I feel for this and for that -- for not paying her enough attention in those last weeks. I could soothe myself with the fact that, "Well, at least I never let her birthday go by without a celebration." But I cannot. I can't change what has already been done. But I often wish that I could. Yesterday was Ash Wednesday, and as usual it put me in a very reflective mood. Although, I must say, it is a rarity if I am not overly introspective on any given day. But Ash Wednesday brings an extra-special sort of introspection. I often think about what I need to chan...

Sometimes it comes quietly. Sometimes it arrives violently. Sometimes it is met with shock and surprise; sometimes with long-held expectation. It is the culmination of life's every moment, every matter. It is feared; it is loathed, and occasionally, welcomed. Whatever it is, I don't think that it is the end. I don't mean to sound macabre, but death has been on my mind lately. It's not a subject I tend to spend hours upon hours thinking about. But my mind does naturally wander into the dark and dusty labyrinth of all things existential now and then. It's only human. With life, comes death. How can one avoid thoughts of it completely? While I certainly don't think it's healthy to dwell on the topic of death, I also do not think it healthy to never confront it either. It's one of those vastly complex subjects that has physical, spiritual, and philosophical importance. Death is different to everyone, on some level. For some, death is merely the ...