it always ends up this way
the bliss of the moment
the calm comfort of oneness
the shared smiles
closeness
a few intimate moments of understanding
the glimpse of hope
and then
always
always an ending
always alone again
and so I face the road in front of me
nothing left to hang on to
nothing but the mist of memories
yet somehow
for some reason
I am called
keep going
tio stib
Category: life journey poems & prose
Tags: life journey, faith
we’re not as smooth as we look
we all have edges
things that stick out
poke
catch on things
irritate some
comfort others
things we say
things we wear
habits
mannerisms
attitudes
values and beliefs
differences that make us unique
contrasts that are minor conflicts
or sometimes consolations
edges that make us human
special
odd
memorable
yes, even unforgettable
and yet
from a distance
viewing someone walking towards you
you might have no idea how the approaching encounter
how those edges
could change your life
tio stib
Category: life journey poems & prose
Tags: life journey, humanness
people are what people do
it’s true for me
it’s true for you
it matters not the words we speak
only promises we keep
tio stib
Category: life journey poems & prose
Tags: truth, commitment, respect, honor
copyright 2026 tio stib
today a door closed
someone who’d been impassioned about an idea
a vision we shared and dreamed of building together
suddenly found herself reconsidering her circumstances
concluding that she needed to focus on other things
things like her health and family needs
things I certainly appreciate
because life and its details are constantly changing
and we must focus on priorities
which leaves me with a choice
how to deal with the news that a partnership I’d hoped for
is not going to be
as others have pointed out
life is a series of obstacles and opportunities
yes, a door has closed
but I choose to believe
new doors are opening
I only wish I could see them
tio stib
Category: life journey poems & prose
Tags: change, life journey, positivity, faith
copyright 2026 tio stib
he was dreaming of wild horses
galloping
snorting
running with reckless abandon
through waves of sage and juniper
flying free across the high plains desert
centuries of mustang spirits released to rom
he smiled
and never woke up
tio stib
category: life journey poems and prose
Tags: karma, fate, death, spirit journey
it seems a bit odd
given the range of my usual activities
and the life we once shared
that the place I miss her most
is my weekly visit to the grocery store
just shopping for the basics
the food to keep us going
milk, “Sugar Bee” apples, honey flavored yogurt
tuna fish, grey poupon mustard, napkins
toilet paper
just the basics
but she would always nudge me
smile with her eyes
and say
“cookies?”
I so dearly miss hearing that plaintiff word again
tio stib
category: life journey poems and prose
Tags: life journey, love, marriage, partnership
copyright 2026 tio stib
he was picking up leaves when he found it. Reaching down, he lifted the rain splattered envelope from the fallen foliage.
He looked at it cross eyed, not quite sure what to make of this discovery. Sure, it was an envelope, he’d seen plenty of these, but what was it doing lying on the ground in the middle of a rain storm.
Billy’s addled brain often had difficulty sorting out seemingly simple things. That was why he’d been in special ed classes all the way through high school. His mind worked well enough to get him through his daily routines as long as nothing changed much. But new things confused him.
And so he studied the wet blank envelope in front of his face. How could he return an envelope with nothing written on it?
And what was inside the envelope? Should he open it? Maybe it was something private, even secret. This thought stopped him momentarily as the downpour dripped from the brim of his Oakland A’s baseball cap. He scratched the back of his curly red hair and another thought struck him.
Mr. Rogers had given him that cap, took him to A’s games every year. Billy smiled, remembering the old man scolding him, “call me Ralph, Billy. We’re friends now, call me Ralph.” But Ralph was gone, died in his sleep. Who was going to take Billy to the baseball games?
“Billy, what are you doing out there?” yelled a voice behind him.
He turned, Mrs. Downing stood in the doorway of her shop, hands on hips.”Get in here Billy, you’re getting soaked.”
He obeyed, leaving his broom and trash cart on the sidewalk. He entered the gift store as Mrs. Downing backed up for the dripping wet street cleaner wearing the drenched black t-shirt with the big red heart on the front, his favorite “I love Benicia” apparel.
. “she smiled, shaking her head, “Billy, what are we going to do with you?”
Billy held up the envelope, “look. I found this.”
Mrs. Downing stared at the soggy refuse, “okay, it’s just an envelope. What’s inside?”
Billy looked at her quizzically.
“Let’s open it. Maybe that will help with who it belongs to.”
Billy handed her the envelope and she carefully opened the flap. Her eyes widened as she looked back at Billy.
“Billy, this envelope contains five hundred dollars.”
Billy leaned over and peered into the envelope. Sure enough, there were five new one hundred dollar bills.
“Where did you find this?” Mrs. Downing asked.
Billy was just beginning his story when someone burst in behind him. He turned around
A small, round Latina woman with rain soaked hair and water streaming down her anxious face looked up at him, gasping,
“Have you seen a white envelope? It’s my rent money, must have dropped it leaving the credit union when I opened my umbrella. It’s my rent money. What will happen if I can’t find my rent money?”
Billy took the envelope from Mrs. Downing and held it out to the bewildered woman.
Moral: The good people are seldom seen.
tio Stib
Category: life journey poems & prose
Tags: life journey, goodness
Copyright 2026 Tio Stib
there is a line you cannot see
but it’s there
surely is
believe you me
on one side
where you ought to be
the other
the place where you’ll find me
for this line defines the status quo
where you ought to be
and where you just don’t go
now, it’s taken years to sort this out
I’m slow to learn, I must point out
but wen the truth came home to nest
one thought brought my soul to rest
that life among the muddled middle
leaves you playing second fiddle
so before you lose the game to fear
get up ,
strike out
cross new frontiers
and me, you fret, don’t worry dear
for blindness has brought some cheer
I haven’t seen a line in years
tio stib
Category: Life journey poems & prose
Tags: life journey, humor, individuality, courage
copyright 2026 tio stib
imagine
imagine water molecules
floating free above oceans
drifting past cities
clouding together over forests and mountains
condensing
falling
droplets returning to earth
Exploding on sidewalks Sliding off feathers Tearing leaves from their hearts Trickling, running
shapeshifting
into roaring rivers
flashing through desert canyons
surging through jungles
Cascades
brown, foaming, reckless
purposeful
carrying history in childless arms
past farms and graveyards
then
slowing
deepening
darkening
returning
until finally
once again
silent in Mother Ocean’s womb
imagine
imagine a single water molecule
erupting into air
released
born again
floating free
tio stib
category: life journey poems & prose
tags” life journey, cycle of life
copyright 2026 tio stib
I woke sneezing.
eyes watering, I looked around. Nothing unusual. I sneezed again and it hit me. She Who Must Be Obeyed was wearing her latest attempt at scented feminine allure.
“Gigi! come here!” snapped the woman at her “comfort animal,” the creature to whom she incessantly unloaded her unbearable load of unending burdens.
This was unexpected behavior. The mantle clock showed 9 a.m. and this was a woman who was never out of her bathrobe before 10:30. Her ladies circle knew that lunch was the earliest social invitation she would accept.
Her voice barked from the hallway, “Gigi! Here! Now!”
Okay, She Who Must Be Obeyed rules the roost, but I don’t want that going to her head. I rise from my bed, stretch, shake, then slowly saunter towards the front door. I check out the frustrated woman holding a leash and staring me down.
What’s going on. She Who Must Be Obeyed is all done up, coiffed hair, a sweater two sizes too small, tight jeans, and, really? Even high heels. All this drowned in a cloud of nauseating perfume.
I sneezed again.
She snaps on the leash and I’m dragged out the door headed for the Volvo.
the light comes on. We’re going to the dog park, Benicia’s gathering place for socially needy people and their ill mannered pets. She Who Must Be Obeyed has got the hots for that man she met last week. The guy who smelled like pipe tobacco, with that utterly ugly English bulldog alongside him..
Apparently she’s late because we squeal out of the driveway narrowly missing Mr. rumple walking his two sausage dogs. She Who Must Be Obeyed shouts curses at all the “damn senile old farts” impeding her way. this from a woman well into her retirement years. Fortunately, she has the grace to roll down my window so I can escape the malodorous stench.
And then we’re there, parked, and she’s carefully eyeing herself in the rear view mirror. A touch of lipstick, and another shot of that offensive perfume.
“alright Gigi, time to play!” and she’s out and over to my door, wobbling on those silly heels. I jump out, doing my best to assume the manner of a highly regarded canine of at least 50% pedigree poodle blood. One of us needs to be acting like a lady. We cross over to the path leading to the entry gate. It’s the usual mayhem inside, dogs running wild, barking, jumping, sniffing behinds, while clusters of humans engage in mindless chatter.
“Damn!” she mutters, obviously the man she seeks is not there. Undeterred, She who Must Be Obeyed puts on her game face and opens the gate.
Now let’s be clear, I’ve never been a fan of this kind of canine speed dating and the sudden rush of noses in my direction caused me to cower between those ridiculous red heels.
“Get out there Gigi, you’re supposed to be having fun!”
right, since when is having your rear end snorted by dozens of drooling, tongue wagging, foul smelling dogs half of whom try to hop on your back, anything close to fun?
I bared my teeth, snarled, put on my most menacing evil eye and rabid she wolf glare. the butt sniffing crowd abruptly froze, checked out the curled lips and snapping teeth, and turned to friendlier climes.
“Oh! It’s you, what a nice surprise,” swooned She Who Must Be Obeyed, oblivious to the furry chaos around her.
There was a mumbled acknowledgement wrapped in the scent of pipe tobacco. And there was Rex, sitting stoic beside two stout legs clothed in tweed. His massive, wrinkled head eyed me impassively. to his credit, not the slightest indication of any interest in jumping me. He just sat there, solid, restrained, with absolutely no interest in joining the antics and acrobatics of the unleashed dog pack.
Rex was growing on me.
Then I saw them. Two of the most beautiful brown leather penny loafers I’d ever seen.
Now, I have few faults but I do admit to one fetish. Shoes. I have an absolute craving, an animal need, to chew shoes. This irrepressible urge has been with me since puppy days and it has resulted in some extremely strong words from She Who Must Be obeyed. I remember one particularly fraught episode when she left me untended for the day and I happily munched, tore, shredded, and slobbered over every shoe I could reach in her excessively well stocked clothes closet.
I no longer have free roaming privileges in the house and shoes are rarely left on the floor, but She Who Must Be Obeyed sometimes forgets and I rapturously destroy another pair of Hush Puppy slippers.
My eyes widened as I took in the marvel of of two exquisitely made, well preserved penny loafers. Really, who wears such things anymore? And there were even real pennies in the slots.
Irresistible.
I leaped.
He screamed, and began furiously shaking the leg with the 50% poodle’s teeth blissfully sunk into his beautiful brown penny loafer.
She Who Must Be Obeyed looked down and gasped,
“Gigi!?”
The Bulldog Buddha was unmoved.
Perhaps smiling.
Moral: Sometimes love can be a mouthful.
tio Stib
with apologies to John Mortimer and Rumpel
Category: Life journey poems & Prose
tags: humor, romance, love
