Life Coaching, Observations, Reflections, Things that make you go hmmmmm

Category Archives: Crazy

Potty Mouth

Potty Mouth

When I saw this thing roll by it was difficult to take what I saw for real. Figured I couldn’t of seen it correctly. Followed it up and I saw it right.

I looked, I read, the words that came out of my mouth were not the words that were being said in my brain as I was in a public place. I did a recent piece about cursing. I do and the bit I do is mostly benign. If I forget something or make an error you’ll get an “oh shit” out of me. Who hasn’t let out a “Damn it!”?

One of the things it says on the splash down (no not a #2) screen is this, “helps you and your child learn the importance of taking regular potty breaks”.

This thing…. THIS THING!


Where do you even start with how fucked up this is?
Is this what it’s come to with parenting today?

Potty Time With Text

G.R. Hambley ©
September 16, 2017


Everyone’s Girl – Lyric

Everyone’s Girl


Her days don’t begin before three
Her nights spent in party grove
Never seen the sun go down
Seen it coming up so damn often
More times than you’d care to know

She’s the one they all want,
          She’s the one they wanna take home
                    She’s the one they’ll kiss and cry for
She’s everyone’s girl

See her prowling in neon blue
Shining like a sapphire mine
Turning all those gawking heads
Growling at the whistling wolves
Giving them the tail swish kiss

She’s the one they all want,
          She’s the one they wanna take home
                    She’s the one they’ll kiss and lie for
She’s everyone’s girl

She loves those night lights
She owns the city streets
Girl just loves to cruise
Done up to the nines
Loaded and easy on the eyes

          She’s the one they all want,
                   She’s the one they wanna take home
                             She’s the one they’ll kiss and die for
She’s everyone’s girl
Everyone’s girl, my drive

G.R. Hambley ©
February 16,2017


Yank A Dandy Doodles!

Yank A Dandy Doodles!

Tomorrow is the day we see an end to the race for POTUS. Well we hope the end cuz who knows what the Electoral College will do. The winner as chosen by the people doesn’t necessarily win right Mr. Gore?

Yank refers to pulling the lever in the voting booth. I figured it would be a darn good idea to declare what I meant early. My family and friends in the U.S. of A. don’t mind me referring to them as, “Doodles” because when I say it, it is both a tease and a term of affection.

What a pair of Dandies y’all got to choose from!

The people are polarized like never before. There is good reason for that polarization too. The world is hard place, a tougher place than it was 33 years ago. You can watch the clip from one of my favourite films and decide for yourself how much validity is in my statement.

So much disinformation with the only real read coming off Social Media. That would be the reading of what people say and giving credence to what the people say. Reading also means giving consideration to the spin from Media and who signs the paycheque.

I think the real question as America goes to the polls tomorrow is just how fed up with the status quo are the people. I see from what Americans say, correlation with BREXIT. My stance on BREXIT was that the UK got their own version of the Boston Tea Party. In our age it’s, taxation without representation under globalization. America didn’t stand for it before and I don’t see America standing for it again.

I don’t like either of the flavours being offered up for POTUS.

You can argue it doesn’t matter what I think as I do not have a vote and that’s fair. Not having a vote doesn’t change I’m informed and thoughtful.

From what I’ve seen and read from multiple sources the people are plenty fed up. If I have to pick who I think will win, it’s Trump.

From my perspective this race to POTUS has been something to see! I’m not exactly certain what that something is but whatever the result, it’ll definitely be a dandy or maybe a doozy!

G.R. Hambley © all rights reserved
November 07, 2016

The world is a tougher place than it was 33 years ago. Would anyone who has lived it care to refute?

Stoney Lonesome

We’ve a new friend in the writers Menagerie. Our new pal has made him self quite at home with me and the others. He has BartholoMEW to fly with. Horace, Harvey and Jerome appreciate having a 4th for Euchre and Bridge.

When he and Bernie sing at the same time it can drive you right bonkers! You can listen for yourself. Bernie is all about the tunes but this guys likes the videos. Hard to believe our new friend is as old as he is.

He’s complex and really a sweet guy when you get to know him who does have his moments. But don’t we all have our moments; some of them Majik.

All the links open to new tabs.

Stoney Lonesome

Resting on the roof in his dignified resolute way
Eons long he’s been the go to one and now he’s numb
Going to take some serious doing to stop him stewing
Inclined to make old stone face smile so up the case I go

Reginald Gargoyle

Now and again he remembers his heart isn’t stone
An angel’s love he says he’s without so relishes quiet
Looking off in to space so you can’t see his teary face
Dreary days turn to dark nights and she’s not here

G.R. Hambley  ©
June 14, 2016

Chronological Posting List

Chess Mate

Another of those that haunt the writers garret. This companion not as sinister as many believe. A Damn fine player this one and open to a challenge almost any time.

Chess Mate

One chosen for one, going tooth and nail, one on one,
Naming you, I have plots you could never conceive
Lord of the below as the minion of a not so mere mortal
Useless to carry on with boorish vitriolic contempt
Caught you were; In this service you shall remain
In time, you may come to appreciate my game

G.R. Hambley ©
April 13, 2016

Chronological List


We don’t know where he came from
We have tried without success to discover.
He has become a beloved part of our menagerie.



Bright eyed one, we adore that impish twinkle
Acting up, acting out, we know what you’re about
Running wild, giving a wink and taking to flight
Trailing your rainbow glitter while looping the loop
Heading on in for that special one point landing

Oh we tease and admire those things that are distinctly you

Laughter in innocent eyes, mirth in that wide smile
One with us you are small one, a family of your own
Made to order one of a kind creatures unique like you
Each of us to our own and like family, each for us all
Where ever you may journey, home will always be here

G.R. Hambley ©
January 13, 2016


Paws For The Cause

Paws For The Cause

I’ve been trying to write pretty. I like writing pretty because of how it makes me feel. I’ve gotten some out and got some in the works.

I was working on something I believe will be pretty epic. Haven’t decided yet if the piece is going to end exhilarated or tragic. Where it is I can go either way. The certainty of the piece is that there is going to be a hell of a lot of pain.

The world keeps showing up and I find myself obligated to look and read and participate. What else anyone does or doesn’t do, their own volition. Me, I do what I can. What I can do is use my weapons of mass persuasion and drop in to the conscience of those that read me the things that blew me out of my pretty mode.

Yesterday (January 14, 2016) my notification bubble came up as I was writing. I could see who it was from and the subject. The email came from someone close and the subject was, “Upsetting”. The sender gets responses from me quickly. The person is on my you aren’t a disturbance list and always will be.

The note came from a friend on the Dark Continent. I read and looked at what I was given and things including my mood got a whole lot darker real fast.

What I read was disturbing enough. What I saw was, I can’t even find a damn word to describe what I felt when I saw. Thing is, from where it came from I knew it was real. What I saw wasn’t a prop for some horror film. I am so angry. Writing in to here I am still so angry. This isn’t the worst trip I’ve been on but is right fucking up there.

It was real. It is real. This and more are real. I am compelled to have you share the reality with me.


Paw 02


Sangoma, the believed culprit.
Sangoma, traditional healer.
Sangoma, Witch Doctor.

You see the thin rope tied around the paw. The belief is that the paw was used by Sangoma in a ritual that has to do with someone having financial difficulties, bankruptcy or poverty.

Someone pays the Witch Doctor to change their fortunes. You just saw what price the animal pays.


Paw 01


How’s that for reality? This is not gleaned information to create a tug on your heart strings piece.

My friend tells me what you just saw is a very common thing over there. Africans paying Sangomas to cast spells.

What you’ve seen isn’t even as disgusting and sickening as this tale is going to get.

I keep finding myself having to go back and edit far more than I usually do. I’m having a difficult time with composition. Telling a story well takes a certain amount of detachment no matter how attached you are personally. This shit does get my anger meter rising fast.

I’m big time attached. I’m big time angry and I’m big time questioning why the 1st World continues to help the 3rd World when they simply refuse to clean up their shit. They want our money. They want our expertise. They want our help removing their despots. Yet the shit that angers the 1st word goes on without what appears to be any consideration for the ways of the 1st world.

There is some sense of entitlement and I’ve been told about it. Told about it in the sense of 2 friends having a conversation. Me with 1st world perspectives and my friend with 3rd world perspectives.

I’m fully aware that the 1st world isn’t lily white in our dealings and some will grease the skids for easier access. We in the 1st world will also bring ours involved in corruption to task when we catch them. The 3rd world is more understanding, lenient, an acceptable cost of doing business.

The rest of this story gets even more gruesome. Nothing like a little human harvest to set the nightmare scene is there. Not a question.

Maybe a lighter mood? A joke to put you in the giggle groove?

So a wife walks in to the kitchen to make dinner, opens up the fridge and looks inside. Much to her surprise all there is to make are human hearts and other human organs. Quite the dream scream.

True story and yes I do know how and why those body parts got in the fridge. The upside if there is an upside, those body parts weren’t taken from anyone who was using them at the time. The harvesting of organs for sale to Sangomas.

Sangomas use body parts to make the traditional healing and it is in many cases deadly. They don’t tell you that part.

Many Africans hate the Sangoma while others believe. Ignorance doesn’t seem to be an issue. They’ve been told and shown different and the practice goes on. There are many of all colours that believe there should be no mercy shown to those that commit the barbarian acts.

I’ve used words and feelings from my friend in this narrative. It would have been an injustice to not use what was gifted to me.

Children. You didn’t think this witchy wonder was going to end with just body parts of the dead did you? Not my style to just stick it in without twisting it. So here’s the twist.

I’m told I wouldn’t believe the number of times children disappear only to be found dead with body parts and organs removed. I was told sometime back that children are raped by those with AIDS who believe that sex with a virgin will cure them.

My friend also tells me that the Sangoma are like drug dealers, take one down and there is always another showing up to take their place.

Recently the Government of my country committed 2.4 Billion dollars to Africa for climate control. I’m sure you’ll excuse me for believing they are worrying about the wrong fucking climate.

G.R. Hambley ©
January 20, 2016
All rights reserved

The Killing Kind – Cecil Lion Killing

The Bunny

The Bunny

Hello old friend, it is so very good to not see you again
And thank you, and yes O’ furry one I did miss you too
Really and truly I did, doesn’t flow the same without you
Varied places you say, some enjoyable provocative sorts I trust
Each had a charm did they, not quite enough to keep up eh
Yes my friend the same for me, no, none of them enough of you

G.R. Hambley ©
January 12, 2016

Morning Glory

Morning Glory

Making an enchanting statement with every smile she makes
A casual night time morning attire, only adds to her charm
Graceful strides go sliding by, fuzzy warm slipper clad feet
Gripping entrance, completely sweetly, without pretension
Images of the darlin’ of the dreams roll through many minds
Enchanting voice, soft lilt beguiles man and woman alike

Showing the pearls, corners turn to an infectious playful grin
Mellow motion, swaying softly to the waltz of the tea time fairy
In to her favourite counter seat, the laughter follows banter
Listens too, you can see it in how she looks when others talk
Easing down, with smiles, off she goes, elegance in jammy pants
Seductive she is, in that “what a sweetheart” way everyone loves

G.R. Hambley ©
December 28, 2015

Chronological Order of Postings

OVERDOSED, The Creation Of

Overdosed, The Creation Of

The poetry is about being overwhelmed by a series of events sounds and images that are relevant to age. Relevant to my age and my travelling through time. The not so gentle mind trips were event triggered.

I’m going to give you possibly more than you care to know on this little trip. You may also have a difficult time wrapping your head around what I did. You may even feel stimulated and challenged when you’re done reading. If you are I encourage you to your own creation.

We’ll begin this journey with what Overdosed is and what Overdosed is not. Overdosed is not 1 poem but 12 poems all within the 1 poem. How’s your head space so far? Imagine mine. You won’t have to imagine because I’m going tell you all about it. The thoughtlessness, the chaos, the order and the event horizon that made it possible to create Overdosed.

Don’t panic, there will be illustrations as we go.

I’m not going to regurgitate all the events here but I’ll give you a few along the way. The first was the 40th anniversary of Springsteen appearing on the covers of Time and News Week the same week. Number two on that same day and about 5 minutes after the first slash at my memory was an online album of photographs from Woodstock. No, I wasn’t at Woodstock. The memories were off and running rampant through what I call a mind.

One of the things I’ve shared of myself is that I’m a child of the back end of the sixties. It is a consciousness statement not a drug statement.

Stanza 1

Overdosed Stanza01

It was the need to give voice and image in words to the feelings of time that I was experiencing. I don’t know why I picked the format I did. I don’t recall ever doing such before. I just started writing and it was thoughtless. After the 7th line of what is now the 1st stanza I stopped to give real attention to what I’d written.

As I read I began picking up on other ways to read what I’d written. The first thing I noticed was that the upper case letters spelt out the word, “GASP”. I am someone who loves to write in Acrostic and on rare occasion have had a word form as I’ve written the lines. I read the lines beginning with upper case and thought to myself I have a nice little poem just in those 4 lines. I read the 3 lines beginning in lower case and they also managed to stand alone. I wrote the 8th line being cognizant of how the structure formed so made that 8th line go with the other 3 lines beginning in lower case When I had finished that 8th line I sent what I’d written to Good Friend.

I said to Good Friend pretty much what I’ve said here, Good Friend said, “So, you have 3 poems inside of one. And without even trying. And good poems at that”.

I reiterate, the first Stanza was zero thought until the last line. Just letting the words flow out on to the page.

The Event Horizon

I could have left the poetry there at the 8 lines and had a very nice little piece to show. Thinking on it, and me being me, that wasn’t enough. No, I couldn’t leave it alone. I had to go and expand the concept partly because the story I was telling wasn’t complete and I saw a challenge for myself. I can make this bigger and grander and more interwoven and maintain the singular.

I decided that the poetry required 3 stanzas to tell the story. With that decision I went from a state of thoughtlessness to a state of chaos that would tear the piece apart without the instillation of order as I went.

The ghosts of ages past were talkin’ to me good. The memories right there in the conscious all at once and singularly. It was chaos and not only was it the overwhelming I noted, it was wonderful!

Second Stanza

Overdosed Stanza02

I wrote part of the 2nd stanza and sent it to Good Friend asking for opinion. I asked if what I was reading and feeling for the wholes as the stanza was taking shape was in fact taking place. I was seeing a break down in the overall integrity of the piece so I asked “Good Friend” how the stanza part felt.

All the odd/upper case lines work well together throughout both stanzas, as do the even/lower case lines.

But as a whole, I see what you mean. It’s the 2nd uppers- TAL – that stand out to me. Not quite as fluid. The 1st uppers seem effortless, a more wistful sentiment; 2nd uppers’ flow is more forceful, and the mood more intense. Not bad writing in the least; it just seems like its part of a different poem.

I am very lucky to have “Good Friend” and very much appreciate the help. Good Friend is highly intuitive and knows what they’re doing! Good Friend also has an excellent grasp of my style and delivery. If you don’t have a Good Friend you can bounce off, this one is mine get your own!

The “TAL” noted is part of the word I chose for the 2nd Stanza, “TALK”. Me and Good Friend had a bit of chatter on that word. I relayed there were ghosts in the first stanza that are the GASP, I see ghosts. Our chatter was about encountering a ghost and how you would TALK to a ghost.

I went back in to the stanza, did some editing to bring the flow and integrity of the sentiment in line with that of the first stanza and added the last upper and lower lines.

Third Stanza

Overdosed Stanza03

The last word, REST. At some point the time trip travelogue had to stop. I enjoyed the ride and it was past time to get off. The 3rd stanza contains real sights sounds and emotions as there are in the 2nd stanza.

I got hung up large on the last stanza. The thing about making order out of chaos is if you let yourself deviate, all you’re left with is a mess. There was never any thought of just blasting it out so I could call it done.

First upper and lower were reasonably straight forward and then came the hang. I tried a few things writing it down in order and the flow and integrity started breaking down again. So much for the order and back to the chaos. Lots of time was spent looking and thinking without much in the way of movement towards completion.

I went looking to the beauty of acrostic for a solution. What I tell people about acrostic is this, “A definitive start, a definitive end, just colour between the lines”.

I went down to the last letter of the word REST and wrote the last upper and lower lines. Then I worked back up to the first upper and lower of the stanza.

Way back there at the top I said, “my travelling through time“. We all travel through time, just really slowly and in the grand scheme of things, not for very long at all.

You`ve seen the singular stanzas. Enjoy the break outs from the whole that stand alone and as you go, each stanza is also a singular stand alone.

I hope all of you have someone like “Good Friend“ that you can bounce off in any direction. Someone that tells you the truth and isn`t afraid to do so because “Good Friend“ knows you`ll do the same for them.

I`m going to say thank you again and give Good Friend the last words on this. I`m thinking “Good Friend“ is correct!

“1 that is 3 poems…3 that is 1 poem…3 that are a separate 3 poems that are also singularly 3 poems…”

Is this not how one explains the Holy Trinity?​

G.R. Hambley ©
November 15, 2015


The links will open the poem as it stands alone.

Overdosed; Upper Case Line Starts and they are acrostic.

Ghosts appearing in times of change
Awakened, they stroll callously the recesses
Shades of thee, unfortunate, yet too fortunate
Past practices in pain and pleasure revived

Taking liberty with the parcels of parchments strung
Askance; were such only daggers with power to quell
Long ago’s veil lifted, the times speak as if only yesterday
Keening winds carrying the pitch from low to high

Reel upon reeling reel loading furiously in to conscious
Entrapment takes relentless hold beyond rapture’s kiss
Slick go round on the nostalgia trip winding down
Totally undone, touches of sublime peace in abandonment

G.R. Hambley ©
November 09, 2015

Overdosed; Lower Case Line Starts

recollections in mindful reflections
casting shadow where none had been
directions of one’s own weather vane
where conscience points the arrow marks

ties loosened, memories spinning cyclonic
that that was, materializations with point
the blood sweat and tears in the story of a life
impossible to not be swept up in remembrance

vast pools of sounds and sights, overwhelming
stuck in yesterday, concerns of today passed away
feeling nothing but tangled up and blue
left to be until such time the spring once again winds

G.R. Hambley ©
November 09, 2015