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James

James McClintock


Last Updated: 11/18/2009

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Gender: Male
Status: In a Relationship
Age: 49
City: FORT WAYNE
State: Indiana
Country: US
Signup Date: 1/19/2008

Blog Archive
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Tuesday, November 24, 2009 

Category: Writing and Poetry

I'll try

I prayed. I ate.
I filled a 2nd plate.
Belt loosened,
and not afraid to try
a slice of triptofan pie.

An Inside Joke of Me: In a 3D Outline

Born in a lifetime outline.
Interconnected, yours and mine.
Variables approach in monotonous rhyme.
Selling and buying time for a dime.
Laying blame is a waste of time.
The rest of the outline
is a foggy, 3D paradddigm,
and tending to the fire that burns in every rrrhyme.
Autobiography
Mmme

The Right Place and Time

100,000 to see them.
Their talent was worthy of the palladium.
100,000 strong,
appreciative
of the giving they give.

Aint Bad Advice

Go for an entire day without a negative thought.
Think of somebody you think you forgot.
Remember, when,
you met a grumpy ol man with a grumpy ol grin.
Somebody wants a positive thought,
I forgot.
Somebody thinks a lot.
I'll give it another shot.

Try It

Driven by a slogan,
new and improved.
Living a motto,
to be moved.
What's the over/under?
What's left to wonder?
It's more than a drive, alive.
It's the catch phrase alive.
A new and improved load to keep.
Driven harder and faster asleep.

by Jim McClintock
Monday, November 23, 2009 

Category: Blogging


Longer Walk

Come on down,
the gang's all here.
The gang's on the plank.
An extension is here.

Suffering

Their fictionalized account is a travesty.
Lies necessitate lies, and conspiracy
is mandatory (plagiarize lies)
to cover the impropriety.
Nothing changes the truth but a fictionalized account.
If proven to be, it is a hurt to avoid, truthfully.

My Yard

There were birds in my yard.
I did not know where they'd been.
They may have nested on a boulevard
or rested on a humpback in the Hawaiian ocean.
They may have left a solitary tree.
They may have dined on feces of a snow leopard.
They may have gone with the wind currently.
I do know they found my yard.

Buried Treasure

A creature crawled from the gulf
onto a beach in the sunshine state.
Another creature called a MULF
discovered the treasure the creature did create.

Dr.'s Orders

She bumped her head.
She went for a CAT scan.
My, oh my, the MRI said,
she had 9 lives to live again.

by Jim McClintock
Sunday, November 22, 2009 

Category: Blogging
Making Value

There is no sense in paying.
It's free to wish from very far.
It goes without saying,
you know who you are.
Making something from nothing
is the handed down recipe.
There is value in caring for the opportunity of possibility.

Listen To An Old Song
 
Listen for something good:
Go to Montego Bay, It's all good,
You are dust, You are wood,
Help poor Eleanor, if you could,
Ask for good advice from someone good.

The Order Of Things

He got some money.
He got a passport.
These are the first two things
for his report.
He put his bicycle on his Jeep
and began to make a memory deep.
Multiple destinations and an unplanned script,
his loaded debit card made him fully equipped.
He went from visa to visa and said many a 'hasta la vista'.
He leaned in Pisa and 'swang' in the vines with a fashionista.
He wheeled from table to table. He pedaled door to door.
When he looked outback, he was able to see more and more.
High on the water and coming down from the hills,
he grew with a farmer's daughter. He knew where a river spills.
Whenever he was here, the next air became apparent,
friends and culture everywhere, experience an exponential requirement.
He Jeeped the oceans, in the whale darkness night.
He ended the trip in the order just right.

Sometime

The butt didn't fit the seat
and strangers were afraid to meet.
When added together, sometimes,
the math is neat.
Killing a steak to eat
and making a trade to cheat with deceit,
sometimes, one on one can't be beat.
Sometime, it takes falling down to get on your feet.
Sometimes, it's time to hear Tweety tweet at the meet and greet.
Sometimes, in Madame Blue's Suite.
Sometimes, it's slippery and sweet.
 
by Jim McClintock
Saturday, November 21, 2009 

Category: Writing and Poetry

The Rest of Friday

Starting over
and gaining some traction.
The end is the beginning
of positive action.

Something different.
Something new.
Learning from mistakes
to earn what's due.
 
King Of
 
Long before written history and before spoken word,
there was living history that left without a word.
And in this time of peace, there was born a king.
There were no treaties. There was no fighting.
There were not 7 known seas, just tranquil waters and lightning.
There was no old age or disease, just living and dying.
The king and his kingdom of long ago, are a story to know.
Long before written history and before spoken word,
there was living history that left without a word.
 
Mr. Fleming
 
Mr. Fleming
had a pet lemming.
He was an inspector
at the hydrogen collector.
The lemming bathed in peroxide.
Mr. Fleming reported it blond hair and blue eyed.
Thee will be no condemning,
Mr. Fleming
and his lemming.
They went hydrogen colliding
and are now in hyding.
 
Agent Ohh No Again
 
Agent Ohh No was drunk on his veranda.
He made a waterfall with his yoyo.
Along with the able bodied Agent Amanda,
they maneuvered to-and-fro
to stop the evil plans of Admiral Blanda.
Agent Ohh No was drunk on his veranda.
He got wrapped up in his yoyo.
He got wrapped up in Amanda.
 
Teller
 
She needed her old yeller.
She was a burped and Barbied Mateller.
She was a consequences or truth teller.
She wore a ring of a church beller.
She was a use it in a sentence speller.
She had the hands of a kiss and teller.
She had pleasing deposits for the distinguished feller.
She went down south with her umbreller
and washed with a secret sea sheller.
She had a nice ride thru the drive thru teller.
She was a high chandelier buyer and seller.
She made things happen for the fortune teller.
She had the balls of Fuzzy Zoeller.
She was a brick and mortar dweller.
She told me about the teller.
 
Abe Lincoln
 
I got some dirt in my eye. I am a blincoln
and by George, washing it a ton.
 
U. S. Grant
 
He never said can't.
He got a U. S. Grant.
The verbal chant, was that he had a receivable U. S. Grant.
He'd been very cerebral and agreeable to get his U. S. Grant
for his engineered herbal plant.
 
by Jim McClintock
Thursday, November 19, 2009 

Category: Blogging

Years of Gears

He was a natural born leader.
He had the gift to lift and support.
From the hunger of a bottom feeder,
he grew inside the annual report.

He was groomed and educated
into the working class hero.
He assumed the market was populated
and was respected as a fellow CEO.

The born leader
lives among peers,
enabling the feeder
and connecting the gears.

by Jim McClintock
Wednesday, November 18, 2009 

Category: Blogging

Funny Bone

She bumped his funny bone.
She laughed and he winced.
He said his other funny bone was a clone.
She bumped him with repeated insistence.
 
Agent Ohh No
 
"Hello, nice to meet you.
I am Agent Ohh No.
We'll do some Caribbean voodoo.
We'll put on an exotic spice moon show.
I may make mistakes.
I may stumble and fumble.
But as Agent Ohh No takes,
I overcome each bumble.
Adversaries beware.
An international crisis,
No is where
holiday has license.
The crisis is defeated.
I'll be your resort companion.
We'll make island love
as needed
with reckless abandon."
Going for the borderline
and going for broke.
Back to an island with
Ohh No rum and coke.
 
Brown and Gray (talking to Truman)
 
It is a permanent warning,
The lesson from Mr. Truman,
a brown and gray morning
is not the way to be human.
The future is to avoid
what cannot be right.
A brown and gray morning
must not come out of the night.
There are many a threat
and many a demise.
Brown and gray has met
the color of human eyes.
In a profound blink of the eye,
a twinkle ran across the sky.
The instant of the wish is born
to avoid the brown and gray morn.
 
Seasoning Of Giving
 
Seasoning of giving.
A lifetime flavor
coming together and living
is the best nature
to favor.
 
Ft Wayne town

On a drive downtown,
into the Ft Wayne town,
there are puddles gray and brown.
Stored up green energy.
New green money.
My old church chapel is prayed upon,
it is long ago gone.
Green energy on green fields of prayer.
Green money tithed everywhere.
 
by Jim McClintock
Tuesday, November 17, 2009 

Category: Blogging

Exhausted
 
He flipped his lid,
exhausting his toxic steam.
He was cleaned amid
the journey to dream.
He exhausted the poison.
He was exhausted on the journey chosen.

Nope

She had no realistic hope.
She had no friend to co-cope.
She had no futuristic plan
She had no fantastic soap.
She had no orgasmic man.
She had no elastic rope.
She had no drastic demand.
She had no realistic hope.

a piece of 'from nickels to riches' pie

Simple Simon
asked me if I wanted some pie.
He knew a pie man,
he was a helluva guy.
 
by Jim McClintock
Tuesday, November 17, 2009 

Category: Writing and Poetry
Definitions
Controlled by assholes:  A Dogwalker, walking 6 dogs.
Trash TV: A webcam streaming the landfill.
It has happened: A supposed losing lottery ticket thrown into the fireplace, but it was a winning ticket.


*****
They piled into their car
with little apprehension.
They went from plug to plug.
Their trip was an extension.
Their juice sparked.
They drank as much as they could endure.
They drove to the end of their road trip calendar.

*****

She was on a tropical beach
wrapped in a coconut cocoon.
Pure cotton and bleach
as bright as the moon.
The dream goes away too soon.

*****

Alone at a desk,
staring at a wall.
Bouncing ideas like a ball.
Leaning back,
giving it all.
Alone at a desk,
awaiting a call.
Selfish to think
a thought for all,
unless the thought was bought at the online mall.
Give me one of those. I'll take some of them.
It is I suppose, the market is there to fix the fall.
Alone at a desk I recall.

*****

Turning Heads

Desperate for attention,
he had a pocketful of heads down.
He had a pocket of friction.
He was turning tails around.

*****

At a loss for words

Plant a jaw bone.
Kiss the Blarney Stone.
Tie your tongue to the wind.
Tongue tied is a knot imagined.

by Jim McClintock
Monday, November 16, 2009 

Category: Blogging

Push Me

Push me in the direction.
Get me out of here.
Push me to correction
and I'll pull you near.

Push me to migration.
Get me out of here.
Push our hibernation.
Let's sleep again, Dear.

Pull me to my dreams.
Take me in.
Separation is more than it seems
when it is set to begin.

by Jim M

*****

Pollan laments toward the end of The Botany of Desire that
"we don't have a vocabulary to describe what other species do to us."
I guess that is why I struggled when I was trying to rhyme last week

Crude

Raw animal instincts.
Steamed vegetable kinks.
Mined mineral stinks.
Animal, vegetable, or mineral
crude and perfect design of the worldly managerial.
Saturday, November 14, 2009 

Category: Writing and Poetry

Her Night

She was riding high
from a good gone bad.
She could only smile to herself.
It was sad.
She found herself
at the beginning of the light.
She looked back to sad
and went into the night.

by Jim M