Friday, January 22, 2016

Dreams He Had to Copy Machine Disaster 
One man reflects on his life amazing 
One man reflects as wonders copy themselves before his eyes amazing 

Dreams He Had (Shakespearean sonnet) 

The dreams he had were setting one by one
And all he did now seems so far away
For him another morning had begun
So far away from things of yesterday
Gone were the people that he used to know
Gone were the needs which counted on his light
Gone were the reasons for that one more show
Gone were those lonely voices in the night
And yet the sun is still warming the sky
While flowers give breezes their gentle scent
There cups full of hope will never run dry
With nothing to doubt no need to repent
He goes to mirror refreshing the air
Surprising to see that he is not there

A Shakespearean sonnet of another type. Rather than love, we have a person reflecting on life. We begin with an introduction into his thoughts. Then follows an ostinato (repetition) of things challenging his serenity. Then appears a sense of reassurance. Lastly, comes the rhyming couplet, and what happened? 

For some of us, life goes pretty much as it was planned. For others, like me, life seems to go through many changes. I went to college to be a music teacher. I wound up at Chevron as a creative artist. I was never better than average at sports. Yet I found myself as a youth soccer coach. When I tried to make sense to my ancestry, Freemasonry stretched out its hand to me. Tell that 20 year old he would be as active in charity as I was and he would ask if we were on drugs, as soon he himself would be. Our lives were not like this, but I'm certain some can relate. We listen to the news and stars, we are familiar with are dying. Perhaps people close to us are no longer there. Places that held a special meaning to us are gone or have changed. And we are growing older. What are we to do? There once was a person who reflected on a "mirror" to find they were no longer there. 

A touch of inspiration: Frank Sinatra "My Way" 
(It's not over) 

Let the magic begin 

Polygraphs, mechanical devices that move a second pen parallel to one held by a writer, are thought to be the earliest copy devices (next to the pen itself). It is now the 21st century and a young man walks into a copy shop. He needs a few copies made. He bumps into Michael Carbonaro (famed magician) and is about to get much more. 
Ironic isn't it: the polygraph operator would find the modern copier as magical as a young man would find Michael Carbonaro. "The Carbonaro Effect - Copy Machine Disaster" 

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You don't stop laughing when you grow old, 
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 George Bernard Shaw


  1. our footsteps are but fleeting in this world. an empty mirror. a book without words.

    1. they can be.
      kids no longer run for punishment in S.F schools.
      we can be the change.
      thank you

  2. That seems much more likely to be a poem written by Hitchcock than Shakespeare.