It’s Our Time Now

closed her
in order
for us
to open
ours, and
as we
I left my
known for
the unknown,
and as
we kissed,
I found
a newness
to the
things that
draw closer
a version
It’s our
show the
how two
can become
the one
that truly

M.C. Davis

I Now Know How The Romans Lived

well, perhaps without all the lewd acts of sexual impropriety and what not.


But, I will say that last night’s adventure of swinging from the ropes and drinking good wine, and of course, laughing like there’s no tomorrow has given me glimpse into what the Romans experienced–or at least lived through until their untimely deaths.

Now, don’t misunderstand me, I’m not a party hound or take to the streets when I run out of bread but what I experienced last night with 20% new friends, 40% awesome friends, and another 40% of people you instantly add to Facebook…well, you get my drift.


Yesterday, we spent most of the morning and early afternoon waking up and quietly reminding ourselves that that very slow process was indeed okay to do.

We actually needed that reminder.

Once we recovered, we landed our butts downtown for some Seattle-style walking and jiving. In a matter of moments, I spoke with a guy walking out of a stripper joint, a conceirge who sat at a huge desk made from a tree trunk, and two door “boys” who gave me true insight as to how Seattle people live and breathe each day.

Of course, they were from Ethiopia and Connecticut respectively so obviously, they had the hookup.

A few chats later, we f0und ourselves in a Chocolate shop with the most snoody of chocolate shop worker bees. As we walked in (albeit like a bunch of hoolagans) she quickly drew her eyes to the floor as if in anticiapation of a potential earthquake.  After she described the intense process of making the chocolate, I proceeded to ask her if she sold Reese Cups…

The rest, as they say, is history.


In either case, who knew flying all the way to Seattle could produce so much of what I love in not only myself, but the chaos that usually ensues after a nuclear holocaust! In fact, I’m basking in the moment as I type this entry and of course, as you read it, I’ve already found a new adventure.

M.C. DavisClose Read more >> Options >>

Off For A Holiday!

…well, at least that’s what the Europeans are calling it.

Seattle or bust I say!!

And with a little more fervor, I would like to add that this trip is way overdue.

For one, it’s great to see awesome friends and if anything, it’ll be even greater to see how the other half of the world lives. Secondly,  and some would argue with my logic, this is more of a working vacation since I’m planning on helping my friends Jason and Bill fix up their home a bit–everyone needs a helping hand once in a while eh?

Of course, the drama of helping people nail sheet rock or lay tile can be a murderous invitation but in the company of good friends, all problems can be solved with a slight pour of the glass.

So, wish me luck as I relive my childhood with people who were neither there or understand it.

But love me all the more.

M.C. Davis


so tired
of the
small games,
and the
fact that
we almost
get there,
we begin
we lose
the scene,
just like
the last
time we
and you
your eyes

M.C. Davis

“I Love The Man I Used To Be

…because he was always reaching out to me.”

I heard this phrase the other day and it struck me to think about it.

Imagine yourself, seeing yourself ahead of yourself and actually, if you can imagine this, calling to yourself for advice but the self that’s ahead of you didn’t answer your call or even acknowledge your existence. You screamed for at least a whisper of what to expect, but nothing was heard. You grab loose items to throw and even enlist your friends to speak on your behalf but, as they say, to no avail.  Running seems to be useless and the night is finally closing its eyes.  As you gain an an ounce of momentum, you see the self ahead of you gain an even greater pound of momentum.

You finally breathe for the first time, then realize it’s no use.

Your eyes close and you finally give up.

(…Or do you?)

M.C. Davis