Saturday, October 10, 2009


I spent too many years
as Clark Kent. Now I
won't take off my cape,
can't stop flying. It's up,
up and away all the time.

Someday, I'll fall from the sky.
Someday, when I'm no longer
faster than a speeding
bullet. But isn't that
the best way to go out?

To fall, fall, fall as fire,
a comet, an omen. To be,
when I've forgotten my own
secret identity.

Stephen Brooke ©2009

Lately, not much time to create nor keep up with my online friends. So will things continue for a while. Tomorrow is my mother's 91st birthday. Dad made it to a month short of 92 so I reckon I have good genes for longevity. I suspect this will be the last birthday Mom is with us -- not physically but mentally. Her mental decline continues and it seems unlikely I'll be able to care for her on my own much longer.

With the way the online world is changing, I've realized that there is not much purpose in having a bunch of different blogs anymore. It's simpler just to leave links and updates for this, my primary blog, here and there and not bother with Multiply (which I left -- too insular) or Yahoo or such. Of course, the special interest blogs, such as my Lad Designs, will remain.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

That poem, I found some personal 'identity' (sic) in it. I also had to cut back, leave Multiply when I originally had pleasure in it but continued to rankle. I could actually write a whole page on why it did, (but I much preferred 360). Also having my primary blog here at Blogger with links to it via Twitter and Y! profile. I feel like I've been going through and deleting my own 'cache'.

Re the last line of the poem. In 'cutting back' one can get back to what one wanted the experience to be in the first instance.