Wamblings

May Morning Haiku

2009-05-06T07:17:00.001-07:00

April showers
coming down by buckets full
in May

blackberries
white blossoms disguising
sharp thorns

blackberries
white blossoms predict
cold snap

small birds
clustered on feeder
brilliant yellow

large poplar trees
reaching skyward wearing
yellow flowers

new growth
springing out of cold ground
bamboo shoots

brilliant morning
radiant golden sunrise
hidden by clouds

Paulownia tree
sweet scented purple flowers
washed away by rain

wild flowers
glowing in verdant grass
after rain

hybrid iris
giant exotic blossoms
rain shattered

New Challenge

2009-05-02T06:00:00.000-07:00

The poetry challenge ended April 30. I took the day off from poetry yesterday to let my brain rest and to do some real life stuff. OK, so poetry is real life in a way. This morning, before I was fully awake, (eyes open, no one home) I composed a very short one.

dogwoods
hiding behind grey morning
mist

A few weeks ago my challenge called for a haiku or senryu. Well, to be honest I had no idea what a senryu was and figured while I was at it, it would be a good idea to brush up on haiku form. What I learned was:
a) haiku should mention (or reference) season
b) while traditional haiku is 17 syllables, modern can be shorter
c) haiku is only about nature
d) senryu looks a lot like haiku
e) senryu is about human things (elegant turn of phrase, I know *grins*)
f) there can be a hybridization of senryu / haiku

So the above poem actually is haiku of the modern sort.

Anyway, I got to thinking that now my daily prompts are over I should work my way through some poetry forms. Maybe spend a day on something easy and a week or more working through some of the difficult ones. I had to write three form poems for the challenge, haiku, villanelle, and sestina. Of those the sestina was definitely the hardest. A real head banger, possibly the worst poem I've ever written. I'm just saying, be glad I didn't post it to this blog. hehe

So, I headed over to Shadow Poetry which may not be the greatest authority on writing form poetry but is a nice resource and easy to navigate. And I was thinking I would just take the forms in alphebetic order but the first form is Acrostic and that is followed by Ballad. Sheesh. Oh well. Time to suck it up I guess.

RAINING
Racing from the car to
Arrive frosted
In glittering diamonds.
Now I am awash,
Imbued, in
Nature's
Glorious bling.

DOGWOODS

During Spring's early flush
Of newly warm days and
Grandiose vivid color,
We pause to admire the
Opalescent clouds
Of sun washed
Dogwoods glowing
Silent at forest edge.

OK so now you can see why I really hate these things. I really don't want to spend a week on them. Now maybe this means I should but nope, not going there.

Poetry Challenge

2009-04-30T10:26:00.000-07:00

Today's prompt is a farewell poem.

NO MORE GOODBYES

I never will leave you
Alone in this walk.
My life would be so blue
If we could not talk.

The words are no problem,
They roll off the tongue.
No thought do we give them
When our talk is done.

But when we consider
What they really mean
The problem is bigger
This now I have seen.

So we'll talk real soon,
And later I'll see you,
And until the next time,
Bis später, adieu.

Poetry Challenge

2009-04-29T08:07:00.000-07:00

I have two today.
prompt - miscommunication

SAID

You said,
I'll always love you.
I heard,
I'll always love you.

You said,
I slept with my old girlfriend.
I heard,
I didn't mean to, it won't happen again.

You said,
You are the one I love.
I heard,
You are the one I love.

You said,
I'll always love you.
I heard,
I'll ALWAYS love YOU.

You said,
I will wait for you.
I heard,
I will give you the time you need to clear up your stuff.

You said,
I need to get away.
I heard,
I'm going out into the bush to clear my head.

You said,
I've met this girl.
I heard,
I love her now, not you.

You said,
I'll always love you.
I heard
It is YOU I REALLY want.

You said,
I am seeing this girl again.
I heard,
She is where my future is.

You said,
I have my own place now, come visit.
I heard,
Just give me warning so I won't be with my new gal when you come.

You said,
I'll always love you.
I heard,
But not as much as I love her.

You said,
I can't conceive a future without you.
I heard,
Someday we'll be together.

You said,
You'll always have a place in my heart.
I heard,
It's you I really want to be with.

You said,
I'll leave her when you're free.
I heard,
She is just to fill the gap.

You said,
I love this girl, I don't want to hurt her.
I heard,
It really is over.
The prompt for today was Never ____

NEVER SAY NEVER

It started early.
I'll never get married,
famous last words.

It picked up speed.

I'll never
wear bell bottoms,
wear straight legs,
live in a city.

The snowball grew.

I'll never
go backpacking,
forgive you,
love again.

Never say never.

Poetry Challenge

2009-04-28T05:58:00.001-07:00

The prompt for the 25th was 'an event.'
I put that one off till after last night's recital and here is my 'event' poem.

RECITAL

Twenty four faces,
little, not so little,
all different ages
and stages.

Violin, cello;
easy and advanced,
open strings,
concerti.

Classical, Fiddle
Twinkle, Twinkle,
Soldier's Joy,
Seitz, Vivaldi.

Bouts with nerves,
and tears,
and stunning
success.

Poetry Challenge

2009-04-28T05:13:00.000-07:00

Ooops, I meant to post this yesterday.
Yesterday's prompt was longing.
This piece is short and I had written it before I saw the prompt but it fit so I used it anyway.

tomorrow will be
four weeks alcoholic like
I keep count

Poetry Challenge

2009-04-26T15:45:00.000-07:00

April 24ths prompt was to write about a journey.

JOURNEY TO PEACE

Anger,
the mask of fear.
Anger,
white hot.
Anger,
plotting revenge.

Forgiveness,
unimaginable.
Forgiveness,
empty words.
Forgiveness,
deliberate, sincere.

Joy,
brief, fleeting.
Joy,
courted.
Joy,
bubbling peace.

Poetry Challenge

2009-04-25T15:46:00.001-07:00

I've gotten rather badly behind. I meant to catch back up today but this one poem has been kicking my butt. A Villanelle is a killer form to write. Anywho, here it is.

The prompt for April 23 was regret. It seemed to me that the subject deserved an obsessive form.

MY REGRETS

I wish I'd dared to let you see my heart,
it's always been so hard for me to share,
it would have been a worthy place to start.

You hold yourself as separate and apart;
it seems you've lost the heart and will to care.
I wish I'd dared to let you see my heart,

I lacked the courage needed to impart
my soul, to let you see the scars in there;
it would have been a worthy place to start.

I wish I might by some sweet gentle art
restore our love, effect a sure repair;
I wish I'd dared to let you see my heart,

Given the chance, I'd play a different part
and turn this farce away from dark despair.
It would have been a worthy place to start.

I ask that from my love you not depart,
I cannot with an ideal mom compare,
I wish I'd dared to let you see my heart;
it would have been a worthy place to start.

Poetry Challenge

2009-04-23T05:51:00.000-07:00

Today's prompt is not yet up.
Here is the poem for April 20. The prompt was to write about rebirth.

TIME LAPSE PHOTOGRAPHY

Close up sequence.

The old mare,
solitary figure,
alone to die.
She lowers herself
gently to the earth,
her mother.

Macro shot sequence.

Blow fly,
bright green,
feeds on open eye,
lays eggs,
flies off.
Eggs hatch,
maggots eat,
pupate,
leave corpse
to burrow into
mother earth.

Telephoto sequence from up wind.

Buzzards circle.
One descends,
feeds,
is joined by his peers.

Telephoto lens sequence.

A cat perches
atop torn body,
tears small bites.

Night photography sequence.

A dog paws
tattered brown skin,
rolls.

Macro sequence.

Beetles scurry
through grisly bones,
cleaning.

Standard lens sequence.

Rain washes,
whitens;
sun bleaches,
purifies.
Snow blankets,
melts,
returns,
cleansing cycles.

Macro sequence.

Mother gives birth,
tiny sprout erupts,
grows lusty
in enriched soil.

Standard lens sequence

Vines cover white arches,
blossoms burst forth
where once death reigned.

Poetry Challenge

2009-04-22T06:17:00.000-07:00

Today's prompt was to work work into the work. (Sorry, couldn't resist.) I teach violin to small students.

DANCE

The music begins,
Twinkle played out of rhythm
and I sway,
tap a toe,
pencil on desk.
Feel it inside.
Let it dance.

Poetry Challenge

2009-04-21T14:20:00.000-07:00

OK, so I've skipped yesterday's prompt. I promise to get back to it.

I had to laugh when I opened my blog to make this post because the last poem posted is haiku format 5-7-5 while lacking the essential nature subject of a true haiku and today's prompt was to write a haiku. Of course, this being Tuesday there was a double prompt, with the second part being to write an anti-haiku. So here they are. I reckon you will be able to tell which is which.

Dogwoods shining white
on woodland's barren fringes,
springtime's gentle snow.

Speak not of strict form
with seventeen syllables,
haiku not for me.

Poetry Challenge

2009-04-20T06:05:00.001-07:00

The prompt for April 19 was to write about something angry. I thought I might be able to draw on some of my own emotion but what I discovered is that I'm no longer angry. Sure and I get moments of deep negative emotion but it blows over faster than a summer rain shower. Probably a very good thing.

BOIL

Small skin volcano
swelling with viscous pus;
vile eruption.

Poetry Challenge

2009-04-18T10:22:00.000-07:00

Prompt # 18 was to write a poem with an interaction of some sort. So maybe my choice is a touch macabre but in the woods behind my mother's house, a hillside where they can't take a tractor, a horse is returning to the earth that nourished her. Pray the wind direction doesn't change.

Ol' Nell

She lay down one last time,
lowered her head,
submitted to cruel fate.

In no time the fly had arrived,
deposited eggs,
moved on.

Rain washed over her brown coat;
moving air toweled her off.
Larvae tunneled.

She lies there, passive.
The black birds circle.
She does not move.

They come closer.
The bravest lands
and begins his feast.

All her life she has given,
unselfish, gentle.
In death she gives yet again.

Poetry Challenge

2009-04-17T19:08:00.000-07:00

Today's challenge to write a poem with the following title: "All I want is ______,"

This one was a bugger. Made worse by the stupid idea that it wanted rhyme and form. What's with that I ask you? I thought I had moved beyond rhyme and form, for Pete's sake.

OK so here it is. *shakes head*

All I Want Is To Be Me

When I was little Momma
told me who to be.
All I ever wanted
is simply to be me.

I wore my pretty dresses
right up into the tree.
All I ever wanted
is simply to be me.

My brother taught me secrets
in the shed on the alley.
All I ever wanted
is simply to be me.

I galloped all the way to school,
a stallion wild and free.
All I ever wanted
is simply to be me.

I came of age and married,
convention's devotee.
All I ever wanted
is simply to be me.

A strange, unsettled life I lived
adrift upon the sea.
All I ever wanted
is simply to be me.

I broke the rules, discovered love
forbidden artistry.
All I ever wanted
is simply to be me.

Poetry Challenge - Day 16

2009-04-16T11:14:00.000-07:00

Another day, another prompt. "Pick a color, make that the title of your poem, and write a poem that is inspired by that color."

OK, I have several ideas. And the winner is...

Pink

Jelly between toast;
it spreads itself across the eastern sky
separating the darkness from the darkness.
Memories of mornings deliciously shared,
jealously guarded
in cardboard boxes.

'Tis a gift to be simple,
'tis a gift to be free.

Rose quartz on windowsill
catches midday's rays,
scatters them brightly
across hardwood floors;
life imbued with healing light,
chasing memories,
cobwebs banished.

'Tis a gift to come down
where we ought to be.

Splashes of paint,
surreal clouds dancing
in a purple sky
backdrop for sagging barn
and leafless tree.

And when we find ourselves
in a place just right,
it will be in the valley
of love and delight.

Words in italics borrowed from Shaker Elder Joseph Brackett, Jr. written in 1848.

Poetry Challenge

2009-04-15T07:09:00.000-07:00

Today's challenge was to take a favorite poem and change the title and rewrite the poem. It was not required to stay with the same form though I think I managed to do that.

Growing up Daddy used to quote us 'The Song of Summer' by Paul Lawrence Dunbar. The piece got lodged so firmly in my head that as an adult I set the words to music. Here then is a new poem set to the same tune.

Spring of Hope

Oh here's da season truly blessed,
fickle weather changin'.
Violets flower in the grass,
dandelions seedin'.

White clouds scuddin' through the sky,
raindrops fall like diamonds.
Got my brollie in my hand,
watchin' out for crosswinds.

Open colored Easter eggs,
devil them with mayo.
Pack a picnic hamper full,
hit the forest tail-o.

Climb the mountain trail to see
wildflowers bloomin';
brilliant colors greet the eyes,
woodland full of groomin'.

Robin's ear cocked to the grass
list'nen for an earth worm.
Starling quarrel with a finch
try'n' to steal the feeder.

Move off now winter, spring has come,
weather's getting warmer.
Bar's emerged from winter den,
tiny cubs beside her.

Poetic Challenge

2009-04-14T15:30:00.001-07:00

Today was a double challenge, to write a love poem and to to write an anti-love poem. I'm not sure I succeeded but here is my attempt.

Love

Love is a many splintered thing;
chocolates and roses,
midnight serenades,
tears etching rivulets.

'Tis better to have loved and lost;
fools platitudes,
empty words
comfortless comfort.

Love is the color of a morning sunrise;
wisteria memories,
fanciful dreams,
broken hearts.

Love, the fool's errand,
the dreamer's fantasy,
the jester's painted tear,
the cruel impossibility.

Poem a Day Challenge

2009-04-13T05:47:00.000-07:00

Because I tend to get behind sometimes in reading my emails I just discovered a Poem A Day challenge for April which is something like National Poetry Month. OK, I can research this more later when I have more time and more active brain cells.

So back to the Writer's Digest Poem a Day challenge. Today's prompt is to write a poem about a hobby. Your's or someone else'. So here goes.

My Hobbies

I've always been one
to change hobbies
like some women change husbands.

There is the discovery stage,
excitement bubbling up
as the enticing new activity
catches my eye.
Perhaps a new craft
or some interesting concept,
the latest fad activity;
like my dear friend meeting
a new man at a party.

Next there is the pursuit.
I buy all the paraphernalia,
read books,
perhaps even find someone
to teach me the finer points.
How am I different from my dear friend
finding reasons to be in the same places
as her new interest?

Is courtship too archaic a word
to describe the hours I spend
perfecting my abilities
whether by reading everything I can find
or perhaps learning new stitches
or searching out better plant varieties.
I immerse myself in my new hobby,
too absorbed to spend time listening
to my dear friend go on and on
about last night's date
and the dress she just bought
to wear the first time she meets his family.

Eventually I reach mastery.
For different hobbies this may mean different things.
Perhaps I can play a violin concerto
without my listeners reaching for earplugs,
or maybe my rose bushes are covered
with perfect unspotted leaves and
glorious flowers.
Maybe my cedar chest is finally full
of beautifully embroidered baby blankets.
I attend my dear friend's wedding,
making all the right comments.

But then, a new hobby catches my eye.
I wander from the old,
reaching...

Word of the Day

2008-08-06T08:04:00.000-07:00

slam

verb

1) to shut with force and noise
2) to dash, strike, knock, thrust, throw, slap down, etc., with violent and noisy impact
3) Informal. to criticize harshly; attack verbally

noun

1) a violent and noisy closing, dashing, or impact
2) the noise so made
3) Informal. a harsh criticism; verbal attack

Slam Poetry
Informal. a competitive, usually boisterous poetry reading

[Origin:1650–60; slamra to slam]

As you know, I consider myself a poet. Now those who read my work might agree or disagree. Yesterday I discovered slam poetry.

It has been suggested that poetry should be added to to the British Olympics. The original Olympics included potery, theater, arts... Athletes made good warriors but thinkers were required for leadership, a truth that seems lost on modern society.

Enter Slam Poetry, already a competitive event, it is like a cross between stand up comedy and poetry reading. Poets perform their own original works. Each round permitting approximately 3 minutes on stage.

Go to YouTube and check it out. If you thought you never liked poetry, this might change your mind.

Word of the Day

2008-08-04T06:26:00.000-07:00

koan - koh-ahn

noun

1) A puzzling, often paradoxical statement or story, used in Zen Buddhism as an aid to meditation and a means of gaining spiritual awakening.
2) A nonsensical or paradoxical question to a student for which an answer is demanded, the stress of meditation on the question often being illuminating.

[Japanese koan : ko, public + an, matter for consideration, legal case; earlier koũ-an gōngàn public proposal.] Nice to be seeing something that doesn't automatically go back to Latin. I kind of wonder what MChin is though. Would that be anything like the cleft in a person's chin? Otherwise known as a dimple?

I have no great paradoxical or philosophical questions today.

Today I start back on my school year teaching schedule. Two families that start back today have not confirmed. One child might still be with her father in Florida since the schools don't start back till later this week (and some of them next week). The other family??? We will see. I send out emails to everyone (whose address I have). I don't intend to do group classes this week since it is first week back. Groups will resume next week.

I pulled my chairs off the scaffolding yesterday. I still haven't sanded up there. I'll get the other plaster to that point and then sand my way back to the top and paint while the chairs are still-once again in place.

I'm looking for ideas for behind the toilet in the master bath. I've tried a couple different stands but the problem there is that we went ahead and put in a tall toilet since that bathroom is meant to be handicap accessible. The toilet is too tall for the stands. Now I'm thinking some decorative wooden shelves or a beveled mirror. A mirror would capture and throw around what light is in the room. That bathroom has only a very small window (though it has ample vanity lights). It is very nice being able to get up in the night and just a very short trek to the bathroom. Surprising how much simple things like that mean after age 50.

Today I will be taking back the latest "behind the toilet" stand. I'll keep an eye out and eventually perhaps I'll find the perfect thing for that spot.

Yesterday I got some of those blue rubber (look like koosh balls) dryer balls. Has anyone else tried them? They are supposed to fluff your clothes, shorten drying time, and eliminate static cling. Of course when I got home and was reading the package they recommend 4 - 6 for best results. That ends up like a $30 investment at $10 for two balls. I don't go through $30 in dryer sheets in a decade. On the other hand, if clothes really do dry faster (am running first load right now with the two balls I got) and IF I could train the family to set the dryer for less time then with rising energy costs they could conceivably pay for themselves. I'm actually seeing my contribution to the family gift exchange for this year. *evil chuckle* They are supposed to last for years.

Word of the Day

2008-08-02T10:23:00.000-07:00

juxtaposition juhk-stuh-puh-zish-uhn

noun

The act or an instance of placing two items side by side, especially for comparison or contrast, or the state of being so placed.

[French juxtaposition : Latin iuxta close by + French position, position (like we couldn't figure that one out), from Latin (so what time? early? late?) positio, position-, placing, position, from positus, past participle of ponere, to place.] (Well that clears it all up nicely)

OK so today's word has nothing to do with anything. I just think it is a cool word.

This week I've moved my plastering to the south wall of the loft (and select other places while I've got my super grungy plastering/painting outfit on anyway). The house has 15/12 pitch roofs which means the place where wall meets roof peak is way up there. So, I have one section of scaffolding, then on it four solid wooden chairs, and on them a kitchen step stool. It's real solid but still a tiny bit scary. When I return home this evening, I plan to turn off the heat pumps (hopefully the house will be cool enough to do this) and sand the top of the wall.

On a side note, I saw a bit of movement from the corner of my eye and turned my head to see a skink lizard on the arm of the sofa where I sit, sunning himself in front of mum's big window.

Once I've sanded the top of the wall, I can remove the chairs from the scaffolding (they take up lots of space) and finish plastering the rest of the wall (or as much as I can reach from the scaffolding). I figure I'm still maybe a week away from painting. I'm working on several areas at once so I can paint a lot while I have the roller wet and all. I'd much rather do a large section and then throw away the roller than keep doing little areas and cleaning the rollers each time.

The skink has moved to the seat cushion. It is really a good thing I am intrigued rather than freaked out by things like wild lizards running loose in the house.

Along with all the plastering and painting I've been working on the last few weeks, it is now time for a new work year to start since my teaching year coincides with the school year. I've been up to my eyeballs in trying to schedule students, working out the fee structure for the new year, printing out new lesson forms, brochures...

Needless to say, I'm not doing much writing. I think I managed one poem last week (or maybe that was the week before) and there is another niggling away in the recesses of my mind. I just need to focus and let it work its way out of the mists into the light. Both my novels are on the back burner but not forgotten. Ideas for three more are teasing me too. I had meant to compile facts, character sketches, timeline... for one of them, Still Waters, and then write like a maniac the month of November, participating in NaNoWriMo. Now, of course, we have a wedding mid month so I think trying to write 50,000 words that month might be an unreasonable expectation. I've got a file of Novel Ideas and I just keep stashing ideas there for future reference.

Word of the Day

2008-07-26T06:58:00.000-07:00

eulogy

noun
plural eulogies

1) a speech or writing in praise of a person or thing, esp. a set oration in honor of a deceased person.
2) high praise or commendation.

[1585–95; eulogia and Middle Latin eulogium.]

Perhaps it isn't proper to eulogize a horse. I want to tell you about him, just the same.

Sunshine Kypchak, son of Walker's Prince T
breed - American Bashkir Curly
age - 25

Kippy was 5 years old when he came to live with us. I had cut my reading teeth on Walter Farley's Black Stallion series and had always wanted my own Big Black.

Kippy was no Big Black. Kippy barely reached 14 hands. He was a dark red roan overo pinto. In the summer when his coat was short and sleek he looked lavender out in the sunshine. He was heavily curled. In the winters he would be completely covered in poodle curls. Even in the summer his coat would wave across his shoulders. His main and tail were filled with ringlets.

Kippy had the sweetest disposition of any horse I've ever known. He enjoyed being petted. I could lead him around by hand with no rope or halter. I could crawl under his belly and pluck flies from his scrotum. He was never skittish and had no vices. He didn't appreciate being ridden but if you carried a crop he was a docile saddle horse, even around mares in heat.

For the last couple years Kippy has been failing. I've had to feed him warm mashes. No matter what I did, I couldn't keep weight on him. We feared we would loose him last winter.

July 18, when I went out to feed him, he didn't come to the gate. I hoped I was wrong, but my heart knew that he wouldn't be coming to the feed bucket any more. I went down to the barnyard to check on him and at first I thought he was already dead. Closer examination revealed he was still breathing. I covered him with a wet sheet to try and keep him cool then went and made necessary phone calls.

Within two hours of my finding him, it was all over.

If good horses go to heaven, Kippy is there, knee deep in clover with his own herd of mares.

Changes

2008-07-26T06:54:00.000-07:00

I've decided to change my focus a bit. I find that right now my life isn't real conductive to writing humor though there is something going on that could produce lots of humor blogs but the party of the second part wouldn't be amused by the party of the first part reporting on public forum.

So I am going to make this primarily a writing related blog, at least for now. Word of the Day kind of stuff. Yeah, I'll still slip in snippets of my life (trying very hard never to mention the party of the second part). Might even be slightly funny at times. Hope y'all won't be too disappointed.

Death On the Farm

2008-07-18T10:12:00.001-07:00

Today we are burying my old horse. There is no humor to be found in this but it is something that deserves to be noted somewhere.

mesmerized

2008-06-07T14:55:00.000-07:00

mesmerize

transitive verb (the objectionable kind of verb)
Past participle and past tense: mesmerized
Present participle: mesmerizing
Third person singular present tense: mesmerizes

1. to spell bind; enthrall
2. to hypnotize

[After Franz Mesmer (1734 - 1815), Austrian physician.]

Franz Anton Mesmer, a visionary eighteenth-century physician, believed cures could be effected by having patients do things such as sit with their feet in a fountain of magnetized water while holding cables attached to magnetized trees. He then came to believe that magnetic powers resided in himself, and during highly fashionable curative sessions in Paris he caused his patients to have reactions ranging from sleeping or dancing to confulsions. These reactions were actually brought about by hypnotic posers that Mesmer was unaware he possessed. One of his pupils, named Puysegur, then used the term mesmerism (first recorded in English in 1802) for Mesmer's practices. The related word mesmerize (first recorded in English in 1829), having shed its reference tot he hypnotic doctor, lives on in the sense "to enthrall."

Wow. so I'm starting to get a mental image of a future dictionary entry:
wamble
verb
To write endless posts on arcane topics, poking fun at English conventions and Latin forms.

Hey! I heard that! It COULD happen.

OK so what mesmerizes me? Well today it has been horse racing in general, Belmont Stakes in particular. I've spent the afternoon on YouTube watching horse races and tributes to great racers such as Secretariat and Man of War. In less than an hour Big Brown will try to add his name to an exclusive list of Triple Crown winners. Only eleven horses have managed to take the Kentucky Derby, Preakness Stakes, and Belmont Stakes since 1919 when Sir Barton became the first Triple Crown winner. In my lifetime there have been only three Triple Crown winners; 1973 Secretariat, 1977 Seattle Slew, and 1978 Affirmed. Since then, eleven horses have won the first two legs only to go down to defeat in Belmont's grueling mile and a half.

Half an hour now till the 140th running of the Belmont Stakes. Will we have a new Triple Crown winner this year? I'm at Momma's with no TV but my computer is tuned to ESPN. I'll let you know how it turns out.