I hesitated posting this today, because I already posted just two days ago, but I felt the timing was significant. 😉
Copyright © 2013 H.K. Longmore
Others have said it, and they’ve said it well
But an accusation that mine ain’t swell
(What is wrong with his timing? Everything.)
In jest, perhaps, is the reason I fling
Words out in iambic pentameter
As I ponder timing’s role, dear reader.
When the timing’s right, it is the reason
Your motorized vehicle runs at all,
Why your chainsaw prepares for cold seasons;
We call some graceful dancers at a ball.
When it’s off, some jokes fall without a laugh,
Some musicians will have to hide their gaffe;
But set it right and accidents avoid,
Catch your tongue before slips described by Freud
Escape your lips to cause social mishaps,
Stop a spill before it lands in your lap.
By your good timing, crimes in progress stop
Whether by interference or a cop.
Good timing is required for conception,
Fast friends form from well-timed introductions.
Apply right timing and head over heels
Can calm until you hear wedding bells peal,
But if you delay or the timing’s wrong
It may be that all you’ll hear is “So long”.
So it would appear my words at me yell
To fix my timing, if what’s wrong he’d tell.
Conextrainformafusion – /kən-ek-strə-in-fər-mā-fyü-zhən/ – noun
Confusion resulting from saying too much and having the extraneous information misunderstood.
Etymology: portmanteau of confusion, extraneous, and information.
First use: 2013
I thought I’d coin a word today.
But instead of simple thought post,
Presenting with rhythm and rhyme
Is how I’ll coin, with some word play.
He who wins is he who says most
Is not a truism for our time
Unless imparting confusion
By the excess information
Is the goal to which we aspire.
Your intentions misunderstood,
Your priorities now in mire.
See these results if see you could
Whether by light of moon or sun.
Here is the word, write it in clay
Say it proudly, say it with boast;
But don’t say it in unison:
Conextrainformafusion.
Soon comprehension will disperse
By the length of my little verse
And now perhaps I’ve caused again
Conextrainformafusion.
Copyright © 2013 H.K. Longmore
Copyright © 2013 H.K. Longmore
Sometimes my tongue
Commits to things
My mind and lungs,
My heart the king
Know it commits
Sincerely true,
Yet it omits
Its fault, their rue:
No follow through.
It fain would do
What it has said;
Its mates have read
Consequence due.
At the end of January, 2004, I was rear-ended while waiting at the light on Bangerter and 7000 South by a driver who had fallen asleep at the wheel. The driver fled the scene on foot as his car was badly damaged as well, but he was apprehended. He did not have insurance. My first car lost its trunk, and I lost it. I was unconscious for at least 8 minutes as a result of this collision.
On 12 October, 2005, my dad picked me up from the airport returning from a business trip to Japan. Southbound on Bangerter Highway, we were rear-ended while in motion by a driver trying to pass a third vehicle. The driver made an attempt to make his vehicle fit into the space already occupied by ours, which propelled us across the median. When we came up the other side, a torque moment was created due to the net weight difference between the passenger side and the driver side. We rolled across the northbound lanes, at least three times. Some say it was less, but the first time was when my window broke, the second time was when I looked down out my broken window and saw the asphalt thinking, “If the car keeps rolling I’m going to die!”, and once more to land upright. The position and orientation of the car made it look as though we had merely pulled off the road, but for the car. The other driver fled in his car. They had to use the jaws of life to get my dad out. The mark of the jaws of life? No doors.
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I was stopped at the light this morning, southbound on 2200 West, going to turn left to eastbound 5400 South. The light turned green, I saw the intersection was clear, and proceeded to turn left. Two lanes out, I saw an SUV headed towards me, not trying to stop. The speed limit on 5400 is 45 mph. I honked, but saw that the driver wasn’t stopping, so I decided to get out of Dodge as fast as I could. Only it wasn’t fast enough.
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| Unnecessary Risk: Th… on Unnecessary Risk | |
 | Henry Longmore on In Passing |
 | mrlumeh on In Passing |
| Henry Longmore on Nothing to Say |
 | William on Nothing to Say |
Musings of a Kunderian Monster 