McNabb is the Bears Missing Puzzle Piece
Donovan McNabb’s release today should be a very obvious sign for Chicago to make a serious push for the playoffs. If the reports are correct, he wanted out of Minnesota, not the other way around. Thus, he would love to start in place of Jay Cutler in Chicago, given Cutler’s realization that he will not come back to play this season.
It’s McNabb’s hometown. Chicago is a legitimate playoff contender even without him. He has a solid running back to rely on, not to doubt Adrian Peterson’s abilities. Chicago has a top tier special teams unit. HE HAS A DEFENSE TO FALL BACK WITH. Minnesota has Jared Allen, yes, but given the Chicago Bears consistent, balanced defense, if McNabb turns the ball over or ends a drive poorly, the Chicago Bears defense can make up for it, unlike the Viking’s D.
The weapons Chicago’s offense has is eerily similar to that of McNabb’s old Eagles teams. Devin Hester is a great speed receiver and Knox can stretch the field for a scrambling Donovan McNabb. Yeah, McNabb is aging and is certainly not as mobile as he used to be, and his accuracy is shaky, but Donovan McNabb wants to win and being in Chicago can do just that for him.
Professions
I haven’t posted anything on here in a long while. My busy lifestyle has made it almost impossible to keep up, but perhaps I can find time for Tumblr afterall. I don’t plan on being a crybaby and posted stupid sad stuff on here (for the most part). Do expect more prose/ editorial posts and less poetry and fluffy stuff. And if you’re reading this because you’re actually interested in what I have to say, I appreciated that. I had a pretty good relationship with the total strangers that have followed me before and though I find it strange, it is so compelling to know that there are other writers out there like myself. So thanks for following and I hope I can read some good stuff on here now that I’m back :D
Wish I Didn’t, But I Heard That!
Surrounded by the signs
Telling me I’m not who I think I am.
A pauper yes.
But a vagrant, heavens no!
Surrounded by the things
That prove to me my unworthiness
A self-fulfilling prophecy?
Nay
A self-assurance.
Can I not breath life back into you?
Or bring you to the stream to drink?
I thought so.
A mere smile is all I want upon your face.
Yet even I, a jester albeit, cannot fathom so.
Alas, maybe a less harbored soul may be more worthy.
A Mere Seedling
Tis the ever growing tree
That bares no fruit
Which emits most pain.
For it’s calamity is wrought
Through the barrels of wine
Who lament their troubles abroad.
The tree, however sees no budding plant
At the end of his branch
Nor wind to bring him seed everlasting.
He wades in the summer sun’s waves
Treading fruitless air with fruitless sways.
Like Kanye
I have made a diamond with my bare hands
With her love and mine combined
We’re forever intertwined.
Wingless angel
You have fallen before a tear from God
His greatest creation now in my possession.
She is love.
She is mine.
The Cold Carbon-Steel
Chilled over my neck.
A blade of ice ready to let rivers run red.
Blood of salvation
Salivates me.
No blood-lust is more potent
More poignant than one for oneself
One shelf of pain
Another of despair.
Both of which have books I yearn to burn.
Sins of a man are not weighed in quantity
But of actions with stature and boldness
Contrary to what he believes in.
A man must be judged through his word.
Not his feats, nor his faults.
For as humble as he may be,
He shall always fall if his tongue slips and pulls the trigger.
A Cumulative Memorandum of Diabolical Deeds
Freedom defined
Is a perpetual anarchy
Of individuality
Exposed to the world
By everyone.
Freedom defined
Is imprisonment
Of the human mind
To the paradigms of
Wicked parliamentary parlor tricks.
It is not big brother we must fear
His father is quite the puppeteer.
Eureka, Not For Naught
Science must be the man of terror
For he has brought with him
The promise of destruction.
We have lost our humbleness.
Lost our consciousness
In this immoral leader’s eternal,
Nearly impossible sojourn
To the heights of technological heaven.
How Darling
This loss of muse
Is crippling me.
Seriously.
I’m dying.
How darling
This art is
To be lost
And often found
Face down
In a ditch of broken prose
Dead.
Have you ever turned on a light SOO fast, that you fling your hand down and turn it right back off?
:D
HA! Look At Me…
I’m doing human things! :D
Silly human things
Hedgehog’s Dilemma
If I could decapitate
This Hedgehog’s dilemma
I would unsheathe my broadsword
And slash it’s quills instead
Too Bad Love
I’d say it’s for your eyes only
To imagine this love
As one to behold.
For amongst peers,
Criticism takes only
Negative shapes.
