Prometheus
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Name: Prometheus


Interests: I blog.
Expertise: I write.


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Member Since: 12/21/2000
Lifetime

Stories

The Coffee Shop Extortion
Second Chances
The Stalker
Mankind's Second Home
They're Not All Good, People
Dark In Jersey
To Those That Wait
More Last Days of a Superhero
What Would Spidey Do?
Unwelcome
When Jesus Came
Throw 'em Back
It Started Online
Conversations With Cindy
A Dream Fulfilled
By the Light of a Candle
The One They Missed
He Who Lives
His Story
An Android's Dream
The Switch
I Was Talent
The Divorce Papers
The Lesson
The Firm
Another Innocence
The Good Salesperson
A Beard Story
The Addiction
Portrait of a Pothead
Purgatory
From God, For The Record
Waves
The Loophole
An Atypical Sunday
The Breast Man

Poetry

The Writer
2 5 ks
What She Believed
Judgement Day
The Cycle
Interesting Times
Sad But Creative
We Are What We Judge
A Beautiful Day
Remembered
When We Are Normal
Losing Only Once
And It Is Like That
Transition
The Flower Knows
Happy Holidanga
What I Coulda
Greatness
My Uncaring Pasts
Dreamstate Failing
Creativity
Haiku For Day Two
Warrior
Yet
Weak Link Winning Entry
I Don't Write Haiku
There, With All The Others...
Calling
A Letter to Lucy...
Change
Autumn's Spirit
Unloved
How Unjustly
The Loophole
Untread Snow
Creation
Do Tell Of Me
Achieves Us Not...
Oh Web
The Amateur
Forgotten
ABC (take 2)
Forever Haunting
Unlimited
Prometheus' Soul


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Friday, May 16, 2008

Middle School Slam

Imagine I am middle schoolish

(or if you prefer, you can call it Jr. High)

And I am at a poetry slam

 

I might be brave enough to risk looking foolish

I might be quiet and quite shy

Perhaps that’s who I am

 

Or I am popular and this is just fun

Middle school girls in concert scream

As I approach the stage

 

Or will at least when I am done

As down mom’s cheeks tears also stream

For I am older than my age

 

So judges please be kind to me and mine

Perhaps what we think deep ain’t so

But we try hard to find that Zen 

 

And on a scale from 1 to 9

Please start from 8 or mo’

And please make mine a 10.

 

I attended my first poetry slam at my daughter's middle school (she didn't compete - in fact, there wasn't anyone I knew competing).   I am impressed by people who put themselves out there.  Especially given that the stereotypical poet, particularly in "jr. high school" is shy and quiet and stands far away from the mike until someone moves the mike closer, and she/he backs away again, but has to get an 8 for trying, even though we couldn't hear.  Right?


Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Defiance

My response to Kween of the Queen's challenge

Who Are You?

Today, my retrospective perspective on who I am (and what I mean by that is that on any given day, my life story could be told differently) is, like my namesake Prometheus, defiant. 

I’ve always been a person of relatively low self-esteem, didn’t really like myself, quick to self-criticism, and quick to agree with people that criticized me.  Over the years I’ve struggled to recognize my strengths, without thinking it conceited to do so, along with my faults, or another way to say it, "honest with myself" (both ways). 

And I am no longer as quick to agree with other people’s assessments.  I believe in what I can do.  I don’t always believe I will do it (that’s from past experience), but overall, I believe in myself and in who I am.  And my goal is to grow.

I believe I can become a better person, happier, more enlightened, more evolved, and that that’s what life is for.  It doesn’t have to come quickly.  In fact, one could argue that change is almost always inherently slow (depending on your definition of slow - is one lifetime slow?).

So, I am quick to recognize that I am not perfect.  I am quick to acknowledge, at least to myself, my part in some dysfunction.  But I don’t judge myself for not being perfect.  I accept it, and try to learn from it.

And I don’t accept the "judgment" of others.  I'll take responsibility but I won't be judged.  I’m as right as often as most, and as wrong.  I am human.  I expect other people to recognize my strengths and weaknesses.  I expect people to help me if they feel good hearted enough to do so, and to ask for my help in exchange.  I expect people to treat me as if people can change. 

(I hear this all the time, that “people don’t change.”  It is, in my estimation, an anti-spiritual view that has to affect a person’s policies, so to speak.  I think it leads to judgment of others for what they “are” and actions that have the intent of affecting another's behavior without achieving their agreement).

And I expect other people to recognize that I have more insight into who I am, than they can possibly have, that they can’t possibly know more about me than I know myself.  I want to hear about you from you (who else can tell me?), but don’t tell me what I think or feel without listening to what I have to say about it.

And so I am defiant, defiant against those who would judge me, and who would expect me to fit the mold of their expectations.

We should all be so defiant.  I admire it in others too, even in my children

(mind you, – defiance best defends what one thinks is fair – in my thinking.  So one has to keep an open mind to being wrong, and treat people with respect for what they believe.  Bottom line, negotiation is always fair.  But a sense of entitlement, from your children say, deserves an equally defiant response – for I will not be their slave.  But I will not either condemn them merely for defiance). 


Tuesday, May 13, 2008

My Daughter's Band

My daughter ReyRey, she’s 12 years old, wants to start a band.  She’ll be the manager and her friend Sabrina (these names are made up by the way), will be the assistant manager.  I don’t know who’s going to play instruments, except in addition to being the manager, ReyRey wants to sing and play keyboards that sound like a guitar.  I told her “why don’t you just play keyboards that sound like keyboards and then get someone to play the guitar” – but I guess I’m just an old fogey.  She does, however, want my help to think up a name for the band.  I ran off a bunch off of the top of my head, I don’t remember what they are, but I could do it again, just by looking around the room.  Lampshade, Red Ketchup, Good Coffee, Out of Coffee, Need Coffee, Counter Top, Three Hole Punch, Keys on a ring, Wireless Wifi etc etc.  Anything can be a band name. 

My personal favorite is And And Fucking And, but I didn’t make that one up (I'll give away my first mini to whoever can tell me who did).  I was also in a band once called Tough Chicken.  Adam Yaouk of The Beastie Boys played Bass.  Think of it, I could have been the fifth Beastie Boy.  I’d be RICH.  But, things would be different, and I wouldn’t want that because things are exactly like I want them right now.  Hell, I don’t mean things are perfect, but the challenge is present.  The challenge of life is something I can handle.  I like my position on the board.  What’s not to like.  I’ve got good cards.  Enough game analogies.  Cause I’m rambling.  Though, Enough Game Analogies is a good name for a band, especially an all girl band.  Of course if they want guys to like them they might want to call themselves, Life is Football.  That’s actually a better name for an all girl band, cause its counter intuitive.  They could all wear Football Jerseys.  Or not.


Friday, May 09, 2008

I didn't win

AGAIN!

http://www.andyawards.com/


Thursday, May 01, 2008

Too Many Keys

I have too many keys now.  Makes me feel like a maintenance man. 



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