Archive for August, 2013

the_joy_of_the_redeemed_king_david_dancing_2

There will be a time,

When all pronouncements
Shall be set in stone

When all accused
Shall be vindicated

When we will love
One another
Without reason

The lost
Shall find their home

& on that day,

We shall dance our way
Into the golden kingdom

Free of the laws
of currency

Carrying the ancient
Promise
On our broken backs

But we will not sweat
Nor shed a tear

For we will know,

That we are finally home.

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…been speaking
to Cayce
in dreams
through silent
slumber he
whispers of
bastard boys
turned Atlantean kings

he believes
lands shall rise
& lands shall fall
the compositions
of this earth’s cancer
changing chemically

a wild-witch world
where dead men
are walking
militant marching
over their father/s
grave

their mother
laid waste
bound by lies
stars & stripes
a brute force
anything but natural

he tells me to rest
easy
that there will
be a time
we see god
when we wipe
clean
the mirror…

Gratitude

Posted: August 19, 2013 in Poetry
Tags:

I am happy that I had even lived
I am happy for the time that this life did give
I am happy I can feel the touch of her skin

I am proud of the messed up life that I lived

Not often,
but today,
I am grateful
that this life even did
begin…

Ever Vigilant

Posted: August 17, 2013 in Poetry
Tags: ,

glass__lucent_heart_by_raingarden

I can feel you watching me,
when they are not watching you.

Without these judging eyes upon us,
just imagine what we could do.

In another time, another place,
we would’ve been queens and kings.

Now, merely wounded poets, starving,
waiting for the scraps that life brings.

So sad: how different we become
here in a world set distances apart.

You are free to choose your end
but you have no say in how you start.

 

Often,
the grey moon
barely seems to shine

The stars we trust
as our only guide

Stand-staring up
at the dark sky

But the night it fades
to a sun that blinds

A world of sharp tongues
that lash & bind

Here,
we are but prisoners
of our own device

Our own melodic torture
we methodically devise

Everyday losing
a little more time

Just promise
you’ll try to try

Convinced one day
from here we’ll fly

Searching for a hand
to clasp during the climb

mike-twohy-short-order-cook-gets-sucked-into-exhaust-vent-over-grill-new-yorker-cartoon

        A regular walks in the restaurant, on the usual day he frequents our establishment, sits at his usual table, and orders his usual meal.

Moments later, I’m reading the ticket for his food:
Texas Burger / FF
x-SAUT ONION
no PEPPERS
lite BUTTER
add BACON
x-tra crispy FF

There is only one person, this big a pain in the ass, in Warren, Ohio, and his name is Christo.

We love the guy.

I never asked him, but I’d peg him for about fifty years of age. His son overdosed many years ago, and that caused a rift between his wife and him, that their marriage never recovered from. A year after the tragic death of their son, they were divorced. A couple of years after that, Christo hooked up with a younger gal named Shelly.

I finished the ticket and personally took the hamburger out to his table.

How is Shelly? I ask.

Man-oh-man, she took off, Christo responded.

How do you always manage to ask the touchiest questions? I silently ask myself.

What?! You guys were together for a minute, I said.

Carl, let me tell you this, what women first start loving you for, they wind up hating you for. That is the next thing you should write about, right there, he stated.

I had to knock him back a peg or two.

Well, yeah… that’s cool; but, I’m not so sure you’re the first person to uncover that sentiment.

Well, I ain’t ever heard it, he mumbled.

Silent seconds pass.

It just sucks, he blurted out, breaking the silence.

What sucks? I ask.

Shelly leaving! he nearly yelled, obviously irritated.

I apologize. I was till stuck on that profound observation you made earlier, the one about love and hate, I said sarcastically.

Shut up, dick…

Listen, I’m going to tell you something I’ve said a hundred times before. Don’t get caught up in comparing this love to that love. It is not a competition sport, contrary to all the evolutionary theories and selective breeding and such. Each love is different with each person. You need different angles in life to find room to grow. Some are good memories and some are bad; but, each are an opportunity to come out the wiser, I stated, perhaps ostentatiously.

Pretty good grasshopper, but let me tell you something I heard a hundred times before. the easiest way to get over someone is to sleep with someone else, Christo retorted.

I laughed.

Yes, yes, I heard that too. Knowing me though, I’d get even more attached to the tramp I was sleeping with, than I was to the girl that I loved, and she’d end up being a hundred times worse than the ex-girlfriend, I added.

Christo laughed. Mission accomplished.

Alright my dude, I probably got checks hanging. I must get back to the inferno, I said.

Alright Carlo, have a good one. Don’t sweat too much.

Alright Christo, peace buddy…

music-notes

Notes hang from music sheets
As if stars in the sky
A sax sings through the streets
Helping the sad to laugh
And the smiling, cry
Vibrations tickling air between souls
A hymn amid empty space
A tiny big bang
Like a word in the beginning
Generating sound waves
That rise and fall
Breaking down walls
You are now a creator
A composer
Of sounds that can save
Let your soul always sing true
And your song always be you