Lazy Visions

An attraction to the abstraction…of pelting rain.

No cleansing.

It does not tame.

Set down in the bowels of the north.

No zealot with a zenith can tame this…

a winter’s feast.

Ages of those who pour the word, abhor, upon a beggar’s feet.

Travel with frequency to the belly of the beast.

All with visions of lazy travel.

And, most, who picture least.

 

Veiled Hollows Abound

So true, the closer the destination.
The further it be… out of grasp.
So true, the ice forming over the grass.
What to make of an end…
I cannot meet.
Obvious, the hindered earth underneath my feet.
Jagged bone of soil all around.
Veiled hollowed abound.
Sometimes the miles traveled.
Seem not worthy my trial.
Whatever tomorrow brings.
Can it be worthy of my journey’s denial.imageedit__2982973039

 

Watched You Fall

 

Watched you Fall

No, I am not like you

you in your being of correctiveness

it's such a weary feeling
it’s such a weary feeling

the fake courtesy

when you've been stealing from yourself
when you’ve been stealing from yourself

the righteousness on which you insist.

 

All wrapped up in the mundane

I am not found fetal like nor am I kind.

I am what is dark, dismal and blind.

 

wishing the world away
wishing the world away

 

 

 

Forget the hidden diary

the closet and the unopened bottle of desperation

I don’t believe in forgiven indiscretions

I am not made of any specific social direction.

I come hot and run suddenly cold

blaming someone else
blaming someone else

I am all the power you mistakenly forget to posses

I am burden and I am bold.

 

i watched you fall
i watched you fall

Lying ever in an awakened state

I will not call on you

but forever await.

Get Out the Map

So after many, many years of marriage.  After the consoling.  The begging and the pleading.  The Misfits on the Isle of Misfit Animals and Lesbian women…will leave most of their brood home and head down to where the GAIETY began…Ptown!  The last stop on the Cape unless you plan on swimming to Cuba.  Been there many times before…this time however, the big boss has given the thumbs up to a bit of rustic romance in a tent!  My lucky day!

The other night I looked at my spouse as I am sure she has with me; thinking of how far we have come and envisioning the times I sing off key and understanding nothing would have been surmountable without my backup singer.    These now and again glances of quizzical comfort born from years of finishing each other’s sentences make up life.

With every lesson learned a line upon your beautiful face We'll amuse ourselves one day with these memories we'll trace
With every lesson learned a line upon your beautiful face
We’ll amuse ourselves one day with these memories we’ll trace
the Ambiguity of Love
love me love my feet

What is love after a decade plus of snoring, rubbing shoulders with Ben Gay, comforting one an another when a relative has passed?

Tough to say.    Yet, I think I’m beginning to getting the picture.

Could it be that accepting your partner’s not vain attempts at cooking while you’ve just come home from a shit day and a shit job…could it be that those slabs of crispy well done ribs, the pig sticks left in the oven too long, are parts of love’s equation?

Perhaps, at night when sleeping spouse beauty is near her twilight zone and you decide it’s time to draw circles around her breasts, an act she abhors, is that the twinkle in the eye of romance.  The twinkle that allows her to let your sophomoric ways continue a minute past her aggravation point.

Honestly, to me, I feel our love has grown with the frost heaves in the road.  The strange outfits, Hawaiian shorts and flannel shirts.  The days when there is little to say and that feels wonderful.  The nights when I can’t fall asleep and spoon my way into her heaven.  We aren’t big on fighting.  I preach.  My partner becomes moot.  Generally, we avoid a family discussion with all eight animals and the two human fools.  It seems far more peaceable to understand that the quirks and quips and eccentricities we all bring to the table are the perfect equation to a perfectly happy quietly dysfunctional home-built on love and duct tape.

Favorite All Time hit the Road Trip Song:

Get Out the Map

he saddest sight my eyes can see is that big ball of orange sinking slyly down the trees
Sitting in a broken circle while you rest upon my knee this perfect moment will soon be leaving me
Suzanne calls from Boston the coffee’s hot the corn is high
And that same sun that warms your heart will suck the good earth dry
With everything it’s opposite enough to keep you crying or keep this old world spinning with a twinkle in its eye
Get out the map get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down
We’ll leave the figuring to those we pass on our way out of town
Don’t drink the water there seems to be something ailing everyone I’m gonna clear my head
I’m gonna drink that sun I‘m gonna love you good and strong
while our love is good and young Joni left for South Africa a few years ago and then
Beth took a job all the way over on the West Coast
And me I’m still trying to live half a life on the road
I’m heavier by the year and heavier by the load.
Why do we hurdle ourselves through every inch of time and space I must say around some corner
I can sense a resting place
Poseidon and the Bitter Bug
Poseidon and the Bitter Bug (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

With every lesson learned a line upon your beautiful face
We’ll amuse ourselves one day with these memories we’ll trace
Get out the map get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down
We’ll leave the figuring to those we pass on our way out of town
Don’t drink the water there seems to be something ailing everyone
I’m gonna clear my head I’m gonna drink the sun
I’m gonna love you good and strong while our love is good and young

Pleasantville USA..

road to nowhere...come on along
ecstasy stop short in a car with no brakes

To originally say, Hey, Ambien did you join AmeriCorps to help the world be a better place? Did you wish to enrich yourself and make it easier for others to have the things that you take so much for granted?
Shit, no! I did it for the money. Five thousand dollars and a free trip to see the states and a way to get Mother Theresa off my white girl with a black girl’s ass had been my one and only intention.
I fell in love with her once she was evil I remember, her 22nd
Birthday she became legal tender. Some say she was heaven sent…
With skeletons in her closet, traded herself for drugs and stayed
Inside of her wallet. I know women who couldn’t have her who
Became alcoholics, in the fetal position bent over toilets
And calling for earl with pains in their bladders so people listen
When I tell you it really don’t matter.
It ain’t for the money…”
Bullshit, it is always for the money or sex or drugs. Look at me, I’m weaving baskets and packing boxes…How is that making the world a better place?
God and others with ignorant ideas of Pleasantville USA would love to think the government knows what it is doing.
I say, once again, Travel with the Blue Bomber Ambien Grace and you will see the underbelly of what is wrong with our nation.
Sending suicidal, homophobic, drunken white bread and obtuse young lass’s such as myself to the heart of America for more money than I could make selling Oxy…
WTF?
So, if you are truly sincere in your attempt at being just like everyone else. Do as I do not as I say. Don’t ask, don’t tell. And, always smile for the camera with your fingers crossed behind your back.
Remember…Volunteer America!