Heed not Steve

Smiling On The Inside

really
ain’t
no use
hanging
around
to
see
the clown
frown

—-

© Steve Mitchell 2017

What To Sketch?

down the rabbit hole I go…

Based on True Events

hey
you’re wrecking my catnap
Cat

—-

© Steve Mitchell 2017


Also, I’m Afraid to Google It

I sometimes wonder things.  Everybody wonders things.

You know a thing I wonder?

I wonder why ghosts wear pants.

Not just pants, I guess.  Why do ghosts wear any clothes at all?  Where do they get clothes?  Who makes ghost pants?

It doesn’t make sense.

Although, honestly, I think a naked ghost would be far scarier than a ghost with pants.  With no clothes, there’s no telling what that ghost is all about.  It’s hard to get the measure of a naked ghost.

Yeah.

I wonder.

ggghost

I could’ve worn pants?!

Vignette – Possibly By The Sea

summer –
so many places
to sit

—-

© Steve Mitchell 2017

Who Says Cats Don’t Like Water?

Here is a very real and true thing which happened and which I managed to capture with my iPhone camera:

basiltplatform

Basil readies himself…

basildive

Dive!

basildive2

What form!

basildive3

basilnosplash

Absolutely zero splash!

basilwet

Good show, Basil!  Go hit the showers…

Messy Tree

a pigeon
in the driveway
drunk on olives

—-

© Steve Mitchell 2017

Bar One

An old man, an impossibly old man, an ancient, ancient, old, old man shuffles up to my table.

“Why so pessimistic?” he asks me.  He grabs my beer and lifts it.  “You may say this bottle is half empty.”

“No, I-”

“But now look,” he turns the bottle upside down.  “Is the bottle really half empty?”

“No,” I say.  “It’s all empty.”

“Is it?”

“You poured out my beer.”

“Did I?  It’s perspective.” he says.

“That beer cost me six dollars.”  I say.

“The beer flows free.”  He sets the bottle down.  “Perspective, young man!  And you shall go to sleep wiser than you awoke.”  He nods and turns.

I watch him as he shuffles away, slowly, impossibly slow…still shuffling, little, scuffling steps, slow, slow, slow.  He stops and takes a break, catches his breath.  He’s one table away now.  He pulls his out his phone and sends a text.  He lights a cigarette.  He resumes his shuffle.  I lose interest and pass by him on my way out.

I have beer on my shoes.

I don’t feel any wiser, but the night is young.

—-

© Steve Mitchell 2017

One Breath

evening guests –
I’ve not got the time
to jot a long rhyme

—-

© Steve Mitchell 2017

One Of These Things

—-

© Steve Mitchell 2017