Thanks for sticking with us for the last Decade!
It’s our birthday !
Regarding Samuel is turning 10 in August !
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1,860 poems and stories
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10 years
Thanks to all of you.
And there’s more coming
-E
Things that don’t suck
Realising
You can still make amazing dinners
But for yourself,
Champagne, The Rat Pack, steak…
Not having the dinner thrown in the trash…
Not having someone get up and just leave or go to bed after you make it
Ties, tie clips, waistcoats, fedoras, hardsole shoes…
New jeans…
A cigar dipped in bourbon
Hennessy
A classic sidecar recipe
Jazz
Asus chord
Guitar
Cheesecake
Buying yourself flowers every month instead of someone else
Writing letters
Thunderstorms
Pasta (always pasta)
Setting goals
Crushing goals
Walking your dog
Accepting that you were a good husband
And forgiving yourself for what you did in survival mode…
Watching the sunrise
Simon: …I’m just saying I don’t think it was a dino-sore…but I did hear something…
Ethan: Nah man, I saw one the other night…jagged teeth…hopped around in the bushes…
Simon: whaaaa????
I know, I’ll ask Francis. He never lies.
Ethan: now for the important thing…you want a sammich?
Simon: Sandwiches!
Simon: What is this place?
Ethan: it’s the mountains, I kind of grew up here.
Simon: there’s so many smells!
Ethan: yeah, and hawks,
Simon: Shhh I’m listening for the train…
Ethan: there’s no train…
Simon: shhhh I’m listening…
The sky is white
But you can taste the darkness inside
This hollow
This void
These eyes have been empty for sometime ——
These weapons
These sharp objects
Too too many
That we hide behind —-
Let this go
This hurt
Let this go
This pain
Let this go
Gently ——
Like the leaves
With their colours
The trees
Lose their leaves
The ocean with it’s tide
It always comes back in
The sunrise
Gives way for the
sunset
The moon
For the sunrise
We have to let go of things gently ——
We are meant to walk together
To love
But go boldly
Go strongly
And let go
Of things gently
So they can come back to you
She makes storms
Out of hours
She makes deserts
Cry out for rain
She makes winter
Pray for summer
But she’s been a friend to me
Her fist have always been Clinched
Her hair has always been red
Her lips have always been red
She’s the realest thing
I’ve ever known
And I’d stand
Out every winter
Just hoping for a look from her
She keeps me happy
And she went down to New Orleans
And bewitched the devil
And she fights
The ghost
She loves the most
But you might not see it
And her fist
Have always been Clinched
And
She’s always been red
But she’s always been real
To me
(Written and performed tonight at 33)
1
I had a hellhound on my trail
I didn’t see any light ahead
And I think
We all have different angels and we all have different demons inside of us
And I believe we have different soulmates …
2
Lady,
Lady,
I want you to know
You’ve been a saving grace,
Whatever we are
Our blood boils at the same temperature
And whatever we become
I think my eyes will always find you across the room
And I will remember
The hellhound on my trail –
And I hope you know –
You saved my soul
And all that I’ve become –
And sometimes
I believe
Every Sunday
You’re the warmest thing
In this room 
Strange things
happening here
Right outside my door
shots ring out in the valley
Where has my youth gone?
II
There in the road
You see the dreams we had as children
There’s a boy over there
With gravel in his hair
Ghosts in his eyes
And the winter
Comes in
From the gap in the window
And the river slowly fills
The bucket under the sink
III
She says she doesn’t dream
But she’s been whispering in her sleep and we both know we’ve changed
IV
We can’t go back but oh, it won’t let go
Even after you grow old
Or did they forget to tell you?
V
and there’s a girl over there
She’s a silk question mark
She doesn’t double speak
But every beautiful thing comes from some kind of pain
And it’s a long hard fall
But walk with her a while
In her garden
She will carry you
And it’s the world in her eyes
It’s the electricity in her lips
She’s dark energy
She’s the space between the chords of the blues
Shes my rescue
She’s my rescue
Strange things happening here
She’s standing at my door 
I
We are all different but equal
We are all different but equal
We are all different but equal
(Mic drops)
I’m tired of born this way
Forget that
What happened to
I made my way
Dug my self out of the grave
I write to kill
I kill to write
Welcome to the middle of no where
I don’t know about the west side
The south side
I saw a man living on a bus
He had a 17 year old wife
I was 13
I didn’t even realize what I was seeing
II
Tell me again about the new IPhone
I’ll tell you about waiting for dial up
These kids these days
Not even a fear of The Draft hanging over them
It’s been iPhone and apples in their hand since the age of conception
Can’t even imagine them storming beaches or taking anything from anyone unless it’s their parents.
III
Smoke
And ash
Rising from these wasted years spent on ambitious less youth
God spoke and put flesh on
Dead bones
And
Jeff Beck came back just to save rock and roll
I saw a veteran cry as he talked about D Day…
I saw a Veteran get angry when he was asked about Vietnam …
When was the last time we got back to basics
Back to business
Make something
Create something
We are all somebody from somewhere
We have a story to tell
A past to burn
Don’t feed it
Don’t suppress it
You made your way
It’s tangled up in you
Like the bloodline that commits suicide before the age of 35
What have you got to do?
What else is left to lose?
I’ll tell you the truth
From the shot glass
Of my minds eye
Hold yourself together
You’re doing fine
You know mother
We all
Are going to be alright.
She called me late
rain
Settled in her hair
The cool cool air
chilled me inside
my bones
And I kept thinking
About the ocean blue
Where the sun warmed our skin
but now
it’s all sold
And it’s so cold
we’re all so lonely now …
if it’s just the same to you…
And she was calm and she was cool
Her face was set
She lit another cigarette
Against the coming storm
You couldn’t help but think about all of the men
Who let this beast of burden in
The blatant loud disregard hung in the air like cigar
Filling old newspaper rooms
They’re empty now
Just like me
Just like you
You know we can’t go back
We’ve crossed all of these old bridges
We’re fighting ghosts
In our restless hands
She wrote me
And she didn’t know what to say
She only knew the way she felt
And
How everything has turned to grey
And there’s one too many full moons
In the sky tonight
Still
Here I am
My pen and my Gin
Thinking about how there
Was a time
A brief time
When we
Looked bright
In the springtime
But now
I think
We are destined
To be the lonely
Filling the empty
Shells of buildings
With dreams of a future
Foreclosed
On desolation road
That Golden Highway
Runs from here to the salt in the sea
Don’t look now
It’s turned to desolation road…
And all of our daughters
And all of our sisters
Woke up today
With less than they had yesterday
Better not think too much about it
Better not get too used to it
it’s just life on desolation road.
Photo by Ethan Bethune
Regarding Samuel 