• life is a good experience.•

Spent a soothing Sunday
faffing about –
walking the dogs,
and hanging out.
Went for a lovely bike ride,
wind in my hair,
all the other walkers and bikers
and runners were out there,
taking in the sunshine
and the cool of the evening.
Nestled on the couch with my best buds,
JoJo and Shaye,
watching episodes of Time Team, and snacking on frozen grapes
and strawberries –
(‘snacky treats’, for they).
Woke up with ‘look up faff’ in my head.
Faff, huh. Nifty, nay?
Off to work, now,
in the tradition
of dinosaur-avoiding early ancestors of old,
exploiting a nighttime economy.
Life is a good experience,
if you make it that way.
~ Tim Burchfield
6/28/17

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• a humdinger •

You might find it ironic
for me to describe Chronic,
a story about death and dying,
as ‘a slice of life’.
In fact, throughout,
the question of ‘why?’,
and ‘why me?’,
seems pervasive,
and unanswerable,
which it is, except, for me,
‘and why not?’,
‘and why not (me)?’,
keeps rolling through my head,
instead.
Is it just me, I wonder,
or do others see this life
as an equal opportunity
entity,
or journey,
or what have you,
and that moral judgements
as to good or bad outcomes,
or of success or happiness,
and whatnot, cannot
truly be assessed
until after the final curtain falls,
so you’ll never know it yourself,
truth be told, friend,
being dead and all?
So, it’s a question for family,
and society,
and friends,
and ‘former friends’,
and what have you,
to make the call.
And honestly, who cares
what other people think, anywhoo?
So, don’t complain;
choose to be happy,
or fulfilled, or engaged,
or grateful, or enthralled,
or stoic, or philosophical,
or selfless, or starry-eyed,
or evangelical, or ‘evolved’ –
just between we two,
it’s up to you –
whatever floats your boat.
It’s a one way ride,
and frequently fabulous.
Enjoy the view.
Oh, and on a final note,
the movie (with Tim Roth),
is a humdinger, too.
~ Tim Burchfield
6/3/16

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• the role of a friend •

You are no friend, friend.
You only pretend to be a friend,
always with the passive aggression,
always with the snide retort.
Let me tell you about friends, friend.
Friends don’t hurt for fun,
or rip each other’s guts out for sport.
Friends don’t laugh at your pain,
enjoy your embarrassment,
exult in undermining your satisfaction,
poo-poo your gains,
remind you of your past failures,
and follies,
winnow out your weaknesses,
and worries,
all the more, to underscore.
A friend won’t hobble your confidence,
with the teasing jibe,
the unwarranted witticism,
the stinging barb,
the bad report.
That’s not the role of a friend, friend.
That’s what family is for.
~ Tim Burchfield
5/22/17

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• a starting place •

So much unsaid,
like the over-stuffed box,
full of letters, un-sent,
under my bed,
and too, those ensconced
in the nested sub-folders
of my however many
Apple computers I’ve shelved,
over the years,
whose computer languages
are accessible to no one, now,
not even to myself.
Still, love has no time,
and is its own reason to exist,
if too, something?
What, too personal?
Perhaps, yes? Still, friend,
to smile, is almost, to laugh.
And that’s a starting place,
ever and always, for bliss.
~ Tim Burchfield
5/7/17

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• to be realistic •

I keep trying to be ‘realistic’,
but it’s just not in me.
Hell, I’ve made it this far
being a ‘fluke of Nature’,
why change horses midstream?
Nay, I say! Naaaaaaaay!
Let’s play, shall we?
Self-determination has for so long been my mainstay,
that I am convinced it is the way,
at least, for me.
Ever onward, friend,
toward
that enviable, ever-elusive,
‘happy day’,
toward
that elegant country.
~ Tim Burchfield
4/10/17

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