People Are Crazy, Times Are Strange

 

As a stranger you slipped into my back pocket.

Filling the inset with tokens of good-byes.

Twenty-four hour chips turned over to years of near misses and heavy sighs!

The gravity to our kinship would never correlate on paper.

Before, the gathering, a rainbow’s pride had been just another friendship…

I had learned to hide.

An elk’s ashtray weighed down by Marlboro Reds and Camels.

A one person parade…

Playing out drunken disorderly in a public display of charades.

That is when this belligerent bond had been made.

Babies having babies for greed and doping needs.

 

The rebel in you, as soiled as, the dirt beneath my feet.

And, every time, I picked myself up off the ground…

Your town line is where my grime could be found.

As a strange friend you are the…Acme Staple Factory on a road that dead ends.

My best guess?

No one ever chooses to begin again.

Unless they have a stranger for a strange friend.

 

Things Have Changed – Bob (need I say more) Dylan

A worried man with a worried mind
No one in front of me and nothing behind
There’s a woman on my lap and she’s drinking champagne
Got white skin, got assassin’s eyes
I’m looking up into the sapphire tinted skies
I’m well dressed, waiting on the last train
Standing on the gallows with my head in a noose
Any minute now I’m expecting all hell to break loose
People are crazy and times are strange
I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
I used to care, but things have changed
This place ain’t doing me any good
I’m in the wrong town, I should be in Hollywood
Just for a second there I thought I saw something move
Gonna take dancing lessons do the jitterbug rag
Ain’t no shortcuts, gonna dress in drag
Only a fool in here would think he’s got anything to prove
Lot of water under the bridge, Lot of other stuff too
Don’t get up gentlemen, I’m only passing through
I’ve been walking forty miles of bad road
If the bible is right, the world will explode
I’ve been trying to get as far away from myself as I can
Some things are too hot to touch
The human mind can only stand so much
You can’t win with a losing hand
Feel like falling in love with the first woman I meet
Putting her in a wheel barrow and wheeling her down the street
I’ve been walking forty miles of bad road
If the bible is right, the world will explode
I’ve been trying to get as far away from myself as I can
Some things are too hot to touch
The human mind can only stand so much
You can’t win with a losing hand
I hurt easy, I just don’t show it
You can hurt someone and not even know it
The next sixty seconds could be like an eternity
Gonna get low down, gonna fly high
All the truth in the world adds up to one big lie
I’m love with a woman who don’t even appeal to me
Mr. Jinx and Miss Lucy, they jumped in the lake
I’m not that eager to make a mistake
I’ve been walking forty miles of bad road
If the bible is right, the world will explode
I’ve been trying to get as far away from myself as I can
Some things are too hot to touch
The human mind can only stand so much
You can’t win with a losing hand

Walking in Recovery

Flying solo amid the haunted thicket.

A travesty of my imperfections bad luck?

Getting the misguides…wrong.

For even a gimpy, imp, knows.

It takes two to belong.

When I attempted to travel the mist with loneliness in my heart.

My shortcomings were longer than the sum of all their parts.

With gumption…tangled in corruption, stumbling toward inadequacy.

An angry overgrowth in the dented can to recovery.

Distance ahead would mean retaining…

The poisoned ivy to my lonesome itch.

Only need produced a friend to wander down the damaged ditch.

In the landslide of pointing fingers at ‘letting go of holding on?’

Recovery was…

Recovery is…

‘It takes two to find the right side of wrong.’

 

 

James Dean, Chaplin and Marilyn

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I sat in the un-named room.imageedit_102_7837973531

Surrounded by James Dean, Marilyn, Charlie Chaplin

and…

Einstein.

As if patience were a muster… To a riffle I carry.

I loaded and took careful aim.

Then, I sat with my friends and awaited pain.

Pain did not disappoint…It arrived on time.

Gathered by my bare-feet…

Suffering,

shape shifted and became a peace sign.

A community of many half-caste beings… beckon my walls.

Rifle or not.

Peace, crossbreeds and pain rise together.

And, together they fall.

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To set things ‘straight’…

The un-named room and I will always agree.

If I lie in the bed long enough…

Outside the window…

There will come to be a newly formed…life of leafs.

Foliage just slight enough to not arouse the need for injury.

Fauna just vast enough to remove all the moment’s worry.

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All alone, or in two’s,
The ones who really love you
Walk up and down outside the wall.
Some hand in hand
And some gathered together in bands.
The bleeding hearts and artists
Make their stand.

And when they’ve given you their all
Some stagger and fall, after all it’s not easy
Banging your heart against some mad bugger’s wall.

Outside the Wall – Pink Floyd

 

 

 

White Trash Dream Team

Scattered in the muddle of the attic…

Every toy that could go wrong.

All the playmates with no shoes…

All keepsakes…black and blue.

Chaos lusts upon the ramshackle miscues.

Mayhem even friendlier…

When malice fills the musky air.

Between the clapboards dipped in mold.

Three flights up…

And, madness thickens with tall tales told.

I have attempted to piece together my place in this sullen room of stolen memories.

But the flakes of lead shatter by a grip too tight.

Well aware, I am, that the firmer the hold the more I lose sight.

What a cast of characters these floor boards have seen.

A white trash dream team.

Broken by birth certificates…Hidden by girlie magazines.

Twelves steps littered by the ashes of former lovers.

An obligatory glamour shot of someone else’s mother.

Shame on me for not dwelling in another harbor from the past.

For not trading an unmade bed of delusions for cash.

But this heightened abode is my home.

No matter how far into sanity I roam.