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

The Sweet Taste of Love

no trespassing 4

I had seen a couple the other day.  Quietly, obtuse to someone watching them.  I had been making the rounds…around Maple Haven.

I shouldn’t say…I…It had actually been the big (now) old Brown Dog, and I, and nature calling.  So, no, I hadn’t been alone.  You know how I hate to be alone.

Life is so wonderful to observe…when ‘it’ does not realize…it is being watching.  People in their natural habitat.  Acting as though.  Not acting as if.

This couple must have been in their early second childhood…young retiree’s.  Anyhow, the husband, who last I noticed was intrigued by some book or another.  Sitting in the same lounge chair with a drink in one hand…open book in the other.

frost farm
frost farm

The wife seemed more high-strung.  That is… if watching nature pass by, patting a Heinz 57 dog and occasionally sprucing up the picnic table…qualifies for hyper activity!

“Hey, you wanna go for a walk?  It looks like a storm might be creeping up…We should head out now…That is if you want to go…(guilt trip!!!)’

A man of few words…the husband struggles to his feet.  Obviously working out some arthritic problem.  Working out the kinks…as they say.

From across the pine needle laden pond, I witnessed a look of love.

The stranger man looks discretely up at the sky.  Sighs quietly to himself.  Rubs a well-worn knee.  Doesn’t say a word…just a nod in agreement.

Then he grabs his wife’s hand with the only gusto I have seen out of him all week.  Smiles a friendly smile…Gives his wife a gently pat on the buttocks.  Not a sexual pat.  Not a ‘I want something for going on this walk’…pat.  Just a simple, old fashion ‘pat’ on the ass that says:

I am in pain.  I am only out here because you like it.  But I love you!  And, wherever you go…so shall I!

hazel 2

al norte de Belice

belieze 4


Texan charm, claimed by Madrileño magic.
Everlasting radiance to which my far away 
landscapes find reprieve.
A commoner's picturesque relief.
Be there no judge to this span of 
sun on snow.
No hindrance in the acreage between 
what we both know.
In separate worlds...still nowhere to go.
To live the curse was to find courage in the journey.
To live the curse was to find courage in the journey.
Hard to evade a shady nighttime of Belize.
belize 3

Nor the familiar nor'easter 
and it's biting      breeze.
Memories for me will forever 
be a desert         sunflower...
Distant words and climbing miles.
My friend, never a day goes by, 
when I do not    reach for your smile.

belize 5

Keeping Beauty Alive

 Leaving one door open should not mean we have to close the doors of the past.

Leaving one door open should not mean we have to close the doors of the past.

Hate seems to be the message of the day. An aging planet to which we continue to trash. There is an air of ‘more’…to which there will be far less. Far less love for one another. Far less respect for what we share. Far less respect for how we may differ. Our past is threatening to walk away from us…And, in ending, will turn her back and say,
‘On everyday, of every hour…I have told you that if you are not careful…you will not only be condemned to repeat the horrors of the past. You will, after all, be the very reason the present will be less and less precious. Always embrace the precious present!’

-randomwordbyruth

George Carlin’s wife died early in 2008 and George followed her, dying in July 2008. It is ironic George Carlin – comedian of the 70’s and 80’s – could write something so very eloquent and so very appropriate. An observation by George Carlin:
The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.
We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.
We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life. We’ve added years to life not life to years. We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We’ve done larger things, but not better things.
We’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We’ve conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.
These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.
Remember to spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.
Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.
Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn’t cost a cent.
Remember, to say, ‘I love you’ to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.
Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.
Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.
And always remember, life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by those moments that take our breath away.
George Carlin

Fear the Underdog

dumpy diva 1

“Convinced I never could belong, and vowing I’d never settle for any second-rate status.  I felt I simply had to dominate in everything.

Work or play…As this attractive formula for the good life began to succeed, according to my then specifications of success, I became deliriously happy.

But when an undertaking occasionally did fail, I was filled with resentment and depression that could be cured only by the next triumph.  Very early, therefore, I came to value everything in terms of ‘victory or defeat…’ ‘all or nothing.’  The only satisfaction I knew was to win.

Only through utter defeat are we able to take our first steps toward liberation and strength.  Our admissions or personal powerlessness finally turn out to be firm bedrock upon which happy and purposeful lives may be built.”

DSCN1367

-Bill Wilson

1962

Many people do not realize that Bill Wilson had been a practicing Buddhist.  That many philosophies commonly  thought of as the foundation of Alcoholics Anonymous…are actually snippets of Buddhism.

I had a sponsor…Most likely, my fifth!  Seemingly, it was difficult for me to get my shit together.  And, I used every excuse in the book…to avoid being sponsored by someone.  Taken under a wing and told what to do.

That is until I met Allen.  He had been a combat vet.  A was a quadriplegic and…importantly, he was wise beyond my years.

His most prophetic words to me?

‘Love, God and Money…will be your top temptations.  Always be weary of them…’

Fear the Underdog

Somehow,recently, caught in the events of life, for life does not get better when you are clean, you are supposed to get better…I guess that is generally, how it is supposed to work.  Torn between the need to care for my aging parents, upcoming disabling surgery, my spouse dealing with her own demons…etc,etc.

Amongst all of this, I forgot Allan’s Golden Rule.

When, as an addict, in the midst of the chaos it derives, I made money, I had toys, I for all intensive purposes…had it all.

Yet, I could not love.  I didn’t believe in people.  I did not trust.  I had been a product of wrong doings done to me and therefore, I turned them out and set them upon others.

In recovery, with a few years behind my medallions, I trained myself, as a practicing Buddhist, to love everyone.  To let those around me, those who meant the most to me, just how I felt.

Long story…short, this, ideology, bit me in the ass…the other day.  

Honesty?  Is it the best policy?

Cutting myself some slack, I do have a poet’s heart.  I do tend to give all to a relationship.  I do not collect friends with a cyberspace thumb’s up.  I have a handful or a bit more, of persons I deem able to handle…my spoken words.

I will not give away names.  I will not offer examples.  I will say this,

I drank at the ripe old age of 8.  I became a steady drinker at the even ripper age of 10.  I smoked pot, dropped acid, snorted, popped and whatever else…on a regular basis, by the age of 15.

It took me years to build my empire.  A house, the kids, the dogs, the money, the toys…

It took little time to tear it down.

As I took my ‘Zen’ walk this late morning.  Beautiful, out of the ordinary day, in New Hampshire.  Warm enough to make you smile.  Brisk enough to make for less toil.  Quiet enough to focus on…

What had been my part?

What could I have done differently?

and,

more importantly,

Why is it we speak of love in our hearts like a song we cannot quite recall?

I suppose for my part…I am too much for some people.  I get it.  My mother told me that years ago…but I had been to drunk to listen.

As for the last to questions?a a

Well, I do not know if it had been the day.  The beauty.  The alignment of the clouds.  I really do not think I am supposed to know how I get inspired…honestly.

But I did come up with this…

Of course, I will open my heart again.  I will have a new guarded perception walk.  Walking with purpose and love….I will, however, carry a bigger stick!

Lesson Relearned

Always, always, fear the underdog.  We are everywhere!

we all make promises we can't keep And they're paper thin but cut so deep... -G.Potter
we all make promises we can’t keep
And they’re paper thin but cut so deep…
-G.Potter