I feel like I am cheating on my mistress

Last week I made a big, fancy statement over at Ninme’s place, making all sorts of promises of loyalty and fidelity; you know, standard issue male puffery.

There are three women in the Blogosphere that have been with me almost from the start, almost Plankowners, that I have the greatest respect and admiration for; in order of being on board – Anne from PalmTreePundit, Bookie from BookwormRoom (who did a nice job last DEC in The American Thinker BTW), and Ninme who only gets called by special name in private emails.

Well, as Sailors often do in their port-to-port imperfections and weakness, I have broken a vow to Ninme ----- I have joined a group blog, cryptically called “MilBlogs.” Via SMASH, I found my way over to the great creation of The Mudville Gazette once it was up and running a little bit ago. It is a blog in a format like “The Corner.” Don’t worry, I will still be here, but will drop one-liners and troll for goodies there. I recommend you stop by now and then. In honor of “The Corner,” my first post over at MilBlogs is about, of all things, Battlestar Galactica and what out there in TV land gets close to what it is like in the military.

Sorry my sweet, dear Ninme. I never meant to hurt you. Please forgive me. I am only a man. The heart is strong, but the keyboard is weak. In times like this, it is best to go to the classics – Berlin.

Metro:
I'm alone
sitting with my empty glass
my four walls
follow me through my past
I was on a Paris train
I emerged in London rain
and you were waiting there
swimming through apologies

I remember searching for the perfect words
I was hoping you might change your mind
I remember a soldier sleeping next to me (not in that way...)
riding on the Metro

You wore white
smiling as you took my hand
so removed
we spoke of wintertime in France
minutes passed with shallow words
years have passed and still the hurt
I can see you now
smiling as I pulled away

I remember the letter wrinkled in my hand
"I'll love you always" filled my eyes
I remember a night we walked along the Seine
riding on the Metro

I remember a feeling coming over me
the soldier turned, then looked away
I remember hating you for loving me
riding on the Metro

I'm alone
sitting with my BROKEN glass
my four walls
follow me through my past
I was on a Paris train
I emerged in London rain
and you were waiting there
swimming through apologies(sorry)

I remember searching for the perfect words
I was hoping you might change your mind
I remember a soldier sleeping next to me (not in that way...)
riding on the Metro