Archive for April 2010

All the wisdom culled from passing freight
Cars was a pastiche of countries
Dreamed of as they slid away.
Portable gang graffiti and hobo mumblings
From distant villages in the hinterlands.
Does Jill really blow and is Ned a freak?
Half a journey’s stories subtracted,
Placate the mind’s conjuring additions.
I’m walking the tracks over you,
Can’t sleep its true. Waiting
To get my due as the locomotive
Comes on through.

Part of the problem is the lack
Of faith in rhyme and reason. Look
What it has brought us in this
Smog-ridden century, convolutions lusting
After the rightly unattainable.
Passing the container ships and
Their now undesired conundrums
Makes us a little less anxious
After all is said and unfinished.
The porters packing it in,
A last look to the sinking light
On the water. We nibble a dry sandwich,
Wait for cost analysis, etc.
You are more gargle than gargoyle
When you quietly go on.

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The different ways music comes on
Is suddenly here holding sway
In tiny sponge earphones trying to keep
The roar of a airplane’s engine at bay.
And, the late evening quiet broken by
The rumble of a car
With thunderous bass ebbing, flowing
Away. Here Sibelius is washing
The walls of the room with
Subtle, forest depth. At work
The tired, repetitive songs from
Bygone years are lost in a glow
In amber on an oldies radio show.
But, still Miles Davis takes
Seven Steps to Heaven in elegant strides,
And I really want a ride.

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“Oh my” someone at apple might be in some hot water on this one… A picture is worth a couple thousand words on this one!! iPhone HD

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Can you explain? Washed away in a legacy, never cleansed in lakes. Baptized or Bastardized? Never no mind. Either, I was sent on my way

Can the bear minimum be cultivated into infinity? Or can something I don’t remember really take a part of me? And if this really is just a game, can they take that, and make that for keeps?

Mellow yellow, by way of green. Moods can be tranquilized or glossed over but they will not be released, if history tells the story. This is my call to the orator: please, stop using these words that you’ve already heard. The only true relief comes from simply witnessing the scenery.

The surroundings bound or liberate. The memories murder and resuscitate. And the kill buries slash levitates. Pick a side. Often now, those who laugh, do so in vain. And the ones that try will have many poems with many lines, pushing worth by trying to quantitate

I breathe in darkness. That has not changed. Light up in sparks and think that that, is the only shame – that I can cannot lay in that instant and no longer recollect the minutes that proceeded it

…And that assumption keeps being made. My downfall lights up the trail for every one of my days. The choice. Have to substitute the one being made with its counterpart. With it, this thing we call the world can stop resembling an avalanche and be the portrait of the fall. It can begin, return, remember its place as workable cinematography. Its place, as art

I begin, to return, and remember,
once more

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Suspended above my body, I watch and await
Counting the seconds till I make my great escape
Late since birth I haven’t arrived for my own scene
Criticizing my own rights, I’ve ambushed my dreams
So quick to doubt when my gift needs no holiday
Recognized religiously, daily no matter how they pray
On their knees, on their feet, they see what I ignore
Focused on the crack when it’ll lead to an open door
Locusts plague my back and I fear they’ll be hungry for more
Envisioning a bottomless soul with out a core
Sometimes I don’t even know what I am fighting for…

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You waste your time QUESTIONING “why” for [+] & [] THINGS! TAKE what is GIVEN or EARN what WILL be! BE the G.O.A.T.*!

*G.O.A.T. = Greatest Of All Time!

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