Chris Isaak

CHRIST ISAAKI was in a romantic torch-song mood last night.  So I had no choice but to pour myself a rum ‘n coke (or two!) and put on some Chris Isaak.  His incomparable album “Forever Blue” to be exact.  And here are my three favorite songs from that favorite album.  Pure, melodic beauty!  Enjoy.


Don’t Leave Me On My Own:

Somebody’s Crying:

Things Go Wrong:


FLOWERSLove and beauty go so well with colorful flowers and the softness they impart.  This poem is all about this and about a host of flowers that sometimes love leaves behind as a legacy to visit you each and every year after it is forever gone.

Patrick The Poet

This infinite day has been lonely for far too long,
And somewhere I see you where the past never settles.
In granules of beauty which time cannot turn out wrong–
Nor days when I kissed your lips as soft as rose petals.
But somewhere in time days turned into years long gone,
In this place where we lived amidst sown valleys and hills.
In vast, vivid colors was my heart nurtured and drawn,
Come every spring in roses, tulips and daffodils!
Ah, they grow there now as they did long before I left;
As spring turns to summer and growth comes to every tree.
Still, your heart unfolds there, though my own has grown bereft–
Years ago that seem like days when death stole you from me.
No matter this, I know that somewhere beyond the grave,
Life lives, and my heart is a legacy of flowers.
Brimming amidst all the love we ever shared and gave,
Beyond this time on earth that unfolds like mere hours!
I still live among roses, tulips and daffodils–
The alchemy of gold and other precious metals.
For soon, someday, I shall dwell among valleys and hills,
In a garden…kissing lips as soft as rose petals!


FLEETING RAPTUREPhilosophical love poems can be so much fun to write.  Here’s one I hope everybody finds fun to also read!

Patrick The Poet

Once a dream made of earth and clay
Was given me by chance or fate.
Once in a bright long ago day
When I was young and couldnʼt wait.

And though she lived to keep me warm
And safe from despair and danger,
Her heart was like a fiery storm;
And often times like a stranger.

Still, despite this and other things,
(And despite all the grief and strife)
And the joys a storm never brings,
I chose to love her all my life.

But like clouds made of air and fluff
(Or that dream made of earth and clay!)
Sometimes love is just not enough
To keep a fiery storm at bay.

And though the storm could seldom pierce
The warmth that kept me from the cold,
Every time it became too fierce,
Love was impossible to hold.

(But I would again hold such love
Though it be but fleeting rapture!
Unbearable to let go of…
And impossible to capture.)

THIS WEEK’S BAR QUOTES – (from 05-22-09)

Hopefully these dynamic quotations will get us through the long week ahead!

Patrick The Poet


THIS WEEK’S BAR QUOTES – (from 05-22-09)

A lot of fellows nowadays have a B.A., M.D., or Ph.D. Unfortunately, they don’t have a J.O.B.
–Fats Domino

A compliment is something like a kiss through a veil.
–Victor Hugo

What we do is a measure of who we are. If we imagine our work as labor, we become laborers. If we imagine our work as art, we become artists.
–Jeffrey Patnaude

One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one’s work is terribly important.
–Bertrand Russell (1872-1970)

A little inaccuracy sometimes saves a ton of explanation.
–H. H. Munro (Saki) (1870-1916)

There are two ways of constructing a software design; one way is to make it so simple that there are obviously no deficiencies, and the other way is to make it so complicated that there are no obvious deficiencies. The first method is far more difficult.
–C. A. R. Hoare

Make everything as simple as possible, but not simpler.
–Albert Einstein (1879-1955)

What do you take me for, an idiot?
–General Charles de Gaulle (1890-1970), when a journalist asked him if he was happy

I heard someone tried the monkeys-on-typewriters bit trying for the plays of W. Shakespeare, but all they got was the collected works of Francis Bacon.
–Bill Hirst

Three o’clock is always too late or too early for anything you want to do.
–Jean-Paul Sartre (1905-1980)

A doctor can bury his mistakes but an architect can only advise his clients to plant vines.
–Frank Lloyd Wright (1868-1959)

It is dangerous to be sincere unless you are also stupid.
–George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950)

If you haven’t got anything nice to say about anybody, come sit next to me.
–Alice Roosevelt Longworth (1884-1980)

A man can’t be too careful in the choice of his enemies.
–Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

Forgive your enemies, but never forget their names.
–John F. Kennedy (1917-1963)



PROFESSIONAL PEOPLEEverybody should have a professional code.  This poem of mine explains why, although to a great number of people in the professional world need no explanation (I hope!).

Patrick The Poet

I did the ultimate for you I could.
I held nothing back and answered the call.
Where others had settled for less than good,
I gave you better than best and my all!
For a promise meant is a promise kept.
This is the code I’ve always lived by.
For there is no grave where honor has slept
Where someone’s sacred word did not first vie!
So say what you mean and mean what you say.
And let complete honesty be your guide.
Then always see excellence light your way…
Along the path where forthright souls abide!
Yet if somehow I did not reach the height
And had failed you in some deed or action,
Then let me strive again to get it right,
And till you feel complete satisfaction!
For others may connive and balk and taunt,
And never mean to go the extra mile,
But I am here to give you what you want,
And always service, of course, with a smile!
Since you deserve the best you can pay for,
I always guarantee such assurance.
And cause I provide this and even more,
Success must come with strength and endurance!

Somebody’s Baby by JB

JBI guess everybody knows by now that I sort of really like Jackson Browne and he is my favorite songwriter of all time.  I try not to be so obvious, but what can I say?

So, in keeping with my obvious transparency in this regard, here is another favorite from The King of Breakup Songs–only this one is really upbeat and pretty darn cheerful in nature.  Not even close to being a torch song.  It’s a mega hit from the early 1980’s and the live performance of it here should put everyone in a really happy, groovy mood for the rest of this week.  For a live performance, it’s near perfection!  And yes, he wrote the song for the popular coming of age 1982 film “Fast Times At Ridgemont High.”




Excerpts from a Dog & Cat’s Diary‏

This is very cute, be sure to read past the dog’s diary to read the counter points by the cat…..those of you that are animal lovers will get a kick out this! 

Best to all,


Excerpts from a Dog’s Diary……


8:00 am – Dog food! My favorite thing!

9:30  am – A car ride! My favorite thing!

9:40 am – A walk in the park!  My favorite thing!

10:30 am – Got rubbed and petted! My favorite  thing!

12:00 pm – Lunch! My favorite thing!

 1:00 pm –  Played in the yard! My favorite thing!

 3:00 pm – Wagged my  tail! My favorite thing!

 5:00 pm – Milk Bones! My favorite  thing!

 7:00 pm – Got to play ball! My favorite  thing!

 8:00 pm – Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite  thing!

11:00 pm – Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!



    and Excerpts from a Cat’s Daily Diary…   


Day 983 of my captivity…


My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre  little dangling objects.  They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.


Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.


The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape.  In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.


Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet.  I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of.  However, they merely made condescending comments about what a ‘good little hunter’ I am.  Bastards.


There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight.  I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event.  However, I could hear the noises and smell the food.  I overheard that my  confinement was due to the power of ‘allergies.’  I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.


Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking.  I must try this again tomorrow — but at the top of the stairs.


I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches.  The dog receives special privileges.  He is regularly released – and seems to be more than willing to return.  He is obviously retarded.


The bird has got to be an informant.  I observe him communicating with the guards regularly.  I am certain that he reports my every move.  My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe.  

For now…!

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