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To avoid any confusion I thought it appropriate to list the names (cyber) I go by.
My Names:
Mel Kaye-(my real name), MondayMorningPower,
MMP, Killeris-(Technorati name), Powerkis-(Wordpress name), SiFiBiBi-(Original Blogger name)
Site Names:
Attitude, The Ultimate Power-(Blog name)
MondayMorningPower-(Blog AKA)
It's All About Attitude-(Blog AKA)

My email address: info (at) MondayMorningPower dot Com

Why read Monday Morning Power?

You will find a consistency and a focus in all of my content that can change your attitude which can fuel a positive change in your life, if you want it to. If you are happy with your attitude and your life and see no reason for changing, then you either already have a PMA (Positive Mental Attitude), or you are a victim and want to hold onto your misery. These postings will then serve to fortify the person with PMA, or, hopefully, convince the "victim" that there is a better way. This site will contain essays, poems, stories, humor and links, all with the same goal: The pursuit, capture, care and feeding of a Positive Mental Attitude. I have had readers tell me that they have spent hours on my site and feel great about themselves both during and after. I log onto my own site frequently to help fuel my attitude; I hope you will as well.

To My Fellow Bloggers.....

Please feel free to link my blog to yours. A dose of "Monday Morning Power" would bolster any blog, except for those that profess doom, destruction and the end of the world. If you want to use any of my content in your blog, please ask first via email or by comment. I will need to review your blog for appropriate content and then give you written permission as well as being sure that you link back.

Monday Morning Power

A dose of "Monday Morning Power" and a cup of coffee and you're ready for whatever awaits you. At a minimum you should read this blog on Monday Mornings. However, there will be new posts daily. Whenever you want to feel good, tune in and help yourself to some "Monday Morning Power." Please share this site with everyone you care about. I welcome your comments and suggestions

About Me

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My goal is to help my clients navigate the “residential investment property” market; make some money and have some fun in the process. This real estate market is ripe for the investor. In addition, I would like to help the home buyer and home seller. I am part of an 80,000+ agent network that spans all of North America. Being on the “inside” I can find you the “right” agent to handle your specific needs no matter where in North America you may reside. I have been in and arround the real estate market for most of my professional life and want to be your resource for making money in this market. I have been negotiating all of my life and want to negotiate great deals for you. Following is my contact information and my philosophies: Mel Kaye (Broker Associate) Keller Williams Realty Direct: PCH.MEL.KAYE (724.635.5293) Mobile: 805.300.1769 Fax: 888.371.1190 Email: Website: Skype: Mel.Kaye Lic #: 00742678 340 N. Westlake Blvd., Suite 100 Westlake Village, CA 91362

My blog is worth $578,088.96.
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This Site is dedicated to the development of your ATTITUDE, which is your ULTIMATE POWER. The content includes: Essays, Articles, Poems, Links, Inspirational stories, Quotes, Research, Music, an original series called the "Process" and Laughter....all focused on the
Pursuit, Capture, Care and Feeding of a Positive Mental Attitude.

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

The Race

The Race


"Quit! Give up! You're beaten!"

They shout out and plead.

"There's just too much against you now.

This time you can't succeed!"

And as I start to hang my head

In front of failure's face,

My downward fall is broken by

The memory of the race.

And hope refills my weakened will

As I recall the scene;

For just the thought of that short race

Rejuvenates my being.


A children's race--young boys, young men;

How I remember well.

Excitement, sure, but also fear;

It wasn't hard to tell.

They all lined up so full of hope:

Each thought to win the race.

Or tie for first, or if not that,

At least take second place.

And fathers watched from off the side,

Each cheering for his son.

And each boy hoped to show his dad

That he would be the one.

The whistle blew and off they went!

Young hearts, and hopes afire.

To win, to be the hero there

Was each young boy's desire.

And one boy in particular

Whose dad was in the crowd,

Was running near the lead and thought,

"My dad will be so proud."

But as he speeded down the field

Across a shallow dip,

The little boy who thought to win,

Lost his step and slipped.

Trying hard to catch himself

His hands flew out to brace,

And mid the laughter of the crowd

He fell flat on his face.

So down he fell and with him hope

He couldn't win it now--

Embarrassed, sad, he only wished

To disappear somehow.

But as he fell his dad stood up

And showed his anxious face,

Which to the boy so clearly said:

"Get up and win the race!"

He quickly rose, no damage done

Behind a bit, that's all--

And ran with all his mind and might

To make up for his fall.

So anxious to restore himself

To catch up and to win

His mind went faster than his legs:

He slipped and fell again!

He wished that he had quit before

With only one disgrace.

"I'm hopeless as a runner now;

I shouldn't try to race."

But in the laughing crowd he searched

And found his father's face.

That steady look which said again:

"Get up and win the race!"

So he jumped up to try again.

Ten yards behind the last--

"If I'm to gain those yards," he thought,

"I've got to move real fast."

Exerting everything he had,

He gained eight or ten,

But trying so hard to catch the lead

He slipped and fell again!

Defeat! He lay there silently

A tear dropped from his eye--

"There's no sense running anymore:

Three strikes I'm out, why try?"

The will to rise had disappeared

All hopes had fled away;

So far behind, so error-prone:

A loser all the way.

"I've lost, so what's the use," he thought.

"I'll live with my disgrace."

But then he thought about his dad

Who soon he'd have to face.

"Get up," an echo sounded low.

Get up and take your place.

You were not meant for failure here.

Get up and win the race."

With borrowed will, "Get up," it said,

"You haven't lost at all,

For winning is no more than this:

To rise each time you fall."

So up he rose to win once more,

And with a new commit

He resolved that win or lose,

At least he wouldn't quit.

So far behind the others now.

The most he'd ever been--

Still he gave it all he had

And ran as though to win.

Three times he'd fallen stumbling:

Three times he rose again.

Too far behind to hope to win

He still ran to the end.

They cheered the winning runner

As he crossed, first place,

Head high and proud and happy;

No falling, no disgrace.

But when the fallen youngster

Crossed the line, last place,

The crowd gave him the greater cheer

For finishing the race.

And even though he came in last

With head bowed low, un-proud,

You would have thought he won the

Race to listen to the crowd.

And to his dad he sadly said,

"I didn't do so well."

"To me you won," his father said.

"You rose each time you fell."


And when things seem dark and hard

And difficult to face,

The memory of that little boy

Helps me in my own race.

For all of life is like that race.

With ups and downs and all.

And all I have to do to win

Is rise each time I fall.

"Quit!" "Give up, you're beaten!"

They still shout in my face.

But another voice within me says:


(Based on a poem of unknown authorship)

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