Blue 12/09/15

Yesterday fell 

Beneath dark waters

And raging storms.

The sun drowned

In black. There,

On the rocky 

Coast, I sat

Contemplating the

Droplets of moisture

Falling upon my face.

Where does the horizon

End, between sky 

And ocean? Somewhere

Only blue, exposed

To endless light.

A Dream Deferred

It is always tomorrow

Where hope lies,

Waiting to be grabbed,

Tomorrow, the great lie.

Patience fades as

Years pass by,

There is never one day

Tomorrow is not raised.

Hope praised, and then

Runs away,

It holds us enslaved.

A dream deferred,

Just a waste.

Pismo Beach

Sunset on Water

Father

His hands

Never age.

They always

Move to the

Same beat,

Day in, day out.

People evolve,

Landscapes change,

Lifetimes come

And go. 

His hands never

Stop, never change..,

Consistent...

Persistent....

Insistent....

Precise,

Predictions 

Are found accurate

When based on

His shoulders.

We lean away,

Blaming frailty

In age to his

Constant passing.

We are left in the dust

Looking backwards

As He constantly

Marches forward.

Overexposed

Share to much

Of yourself,

You'll begin to fade

Into light, and wash

Out into white.

----

I sat under the Sun

Revealing my sins,

The underexposed 

Underbelly  -

Self equalization!

Transparency is

Futile / whereas

Acceptance

Is key.  We are

Beyond the point

Of deception.

Hands held,

Lips connect,

And we entangle

Ourselves

Into each other.

I sit under the moon...

I, the two -

Dancing like stars

That fade behind

A cool fog that 

Only the moon

Breaks through.

I hear voices speak

Of yesterday-  a 

Sadness rises up

Inside for their

Lack of vision.

Other voices raise

Up into crescendos...

"Now, now, now..."

All they care about

Is now. They drown

Out the whisper

Of tomorrow -

A soft calm voice

Cautioning change.

-----

I, the two - revel

In connection. The

Two, I - bring forth

Beauty in sessions.

A gray day is filled with color,

Vivid and bright -  a dark

Night is filled with passion,

Roaring and ripe.

We sit beneath the skies -

Day and night, the two,

I am we, and we are I,

Two beings, one

Under the sun.

Compassion, A Victim to an Unseen War

Where is

the helping hand

that is lent

to lift the lowly

I up? I look to the

sky, darkness 

descends to block

it out.  Beauty is 

rearranged into

plastic cards, 

paper statements,

and exchanges..

Hearts evolve

into cold machines

devising ways

for self-preservation.

Society stands united

for disunity, we

segregate ourselves

into categories...

Labels are lies,

created to keep

each other

into boxes...

Too many boxes

are thrown out

with the trash,

though there are 

value, and precious

meaning found

within in them.

If we only had 

the courage to

open them up.

The people turn 

their backs to struggle,

and wonder why

there is no one to 

serve their food.

A society of wealth,

bussing in their 

slaves, keeping them

on the outskirts...

The slaves, once

were the people.

They turned their backs

to the struggle,

and hid their heads

in the sand... watching

their land taken 

from their hands.

They didn't even

put up a fight.

The Dead Hillside

Intimidation,

It looms large,

Forbodding.

Life seems to

Wither away

And everything

Turns gray.

Trees, they

Stand in unison

Failing to acknowledge

They are already dead.

Leafless gray

Statues of a

Once thriving

Life... Now

Empty, devoid,

Lonely.

How can I overcome

This hillside of death?

I have no roots.

Medium

She sees past lives,

She sees past eyes, 

She sees past lies.

She sits across from me,

Reading lines in palms,

Tea leaves in a bowl, 

And astrological charts.

She closes her eyes,

And speaks:

"Water - crisp and blue

You hover, renewed

Sinking beneath the horizon

Destination, you.

You rise with the sun,

A mirror reflecting life

Though inanimate and cold

You fall dead in the snow."

What does it mean?

"Past lives, present ones,

And the future collide...

You are born of water 

And fire, two opposing

Elements... You oppose

Yourself internally.

Though death comes,

You will be born again!

Stay near water, avoid the

Cold that fills the heart..,

Flames fan passion, and

That passion is death!"

She sees past lives,

She sees past eyes,

She sees past lies.

I stood confused,

Contemplating 

Her vague words.

A work in progress

Why do I sit idle,

Observing destruction 

With keen eyes,

And let life slip by?

Water, it slips through

Fingers like Her. 

Thirst is never quenched,

Just satiated for moments.

Dehydrated, mad with lust.

It is a sickness!

You can't posses 

The clouds, nor the sea.

We sit amongst the people

Who lament in rage,

"How can we be free

When we are slaves?"

It hasn't rain in months,

Just teased by drizzle

Here and there,

Leaving our lips parched.

---

Heart burns from red hair flame

Beacon of light that guides

On overcast days. Raging,

Growing, spreading - she

Consumes souls. Heart burn

On a cold foggy day,

Red hair flame guides 

The way.  Heaven, or hell,

Just get out of the way -

Like a moth, I leap in faith

To posses, the red hair flame.

 

The Hermit's Journal - Entry #10

"Love conquers all!

Besides unrequited love.

How can any one love another

So passionately, with so much

Feeling and emotion,

And it not be returned?"

We are masochists,

Loving those who 

Are incapable of loving 

Us back.

"But why? Why do they not love..."

Because they don't.  It is better to remove yourself and avoid the torture of unrequited love.  Loneliness is manageable, whereas perpetual heart ache is Hell!

"I'll take the Hell, just so I can say I have loved, to feel it, to be alive!"

I'll take the reclusion... I've experienced enough of Hell, and it has left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Speak

What can I really say?

Silence triumphs 

Rhythm fades

What can I say?

Brown eyes stare,

Desperate for words,

Explanations, reasons

None arrive

Just more solitude

Confinement next

To Love, beauty -

Music is over

Your heart fades

Into oblivion,

Your voice falls

Upon deafness.

What can I say?

I stood like a rock,

Solid for you to hold

Silent in my strength

You never heard words

Just comfort in arms, 

And your own voice soothing

I stood still - motionless

What can you expect 

Thirty years later,

Evolution brings growth

But silence remains.

Frost Bitten

Sometime's my fortitude

Weakens, and I falter, falling

Like bricks to the ground.

What is this lack?

A disability?  Something

Prevents the true self

From blooming.

I follow the warmth

The sun casts down

During the day,

And close my door 

To the cold night.

Routine is boring,

Though I grasp on

To it, as if life depends

Upon it.

I stood firm, strength

Emanated from my eyes.

A small pin prick in

The heart, and vulnerability

Poured out, onto the ground.

Where is truth? Is it

Constant like the sky?

Predictable like the Sun,

To where we can measure

It with hours and seconds,

Until a New truth evolves,

Leaving some in the dark.

Work to survive, though people

Everyday struggle just to be alive.

There has to be more, 

Within this frail flesh, fragile

Bones. My fortitude sometimes

Weakens, and my spirit collapses,

Though I remain, following the Sun,

Waiting for the Spring to come.

Visibility Low

I can't see

Ten inches 

In front of me.

Life moves on

And I go

With the flow.

I pretend to know

What I am doing,

But in reality,

I can't even see

Ten inches in

Front of me.

I am no clairvoyant,

Though I do see the future.

Not in Palms, nor

Tea leaves, nor signs.

I see the future in eyes.

Ten, the magic number 

That allows me to see

Past lies, into soul depths

I pierce to find hidden truths

Of who we are.

No one ever comes 

Within ten inches, 

So I remain blind.

Miner Hero Complex

There are veins of gold

Pulsating rhythmic beats

Beneath a blue, 

Blue-blue sky

Dripping clear liquid

Down sharp carved

Stone features.

I can break through the

Hard exterior, clear

Away the shattered earth,

And begin to excavate

The sunshine that

Was once there.

Untitled

The bridge calls

Desperate souls

Who already began

Free fall.  A downward

Spiral that ends with

A splash.  

Hello Sunshine

Dear Misery,

You are

The company

Of left overs

And afterthoughts,

I bid you farewell!

We were good friends

In wallowing, and you

Held me up...

Well,

Upside down

in shallow water.

I drowned,

And now reborn

In realization 

Through self-reflection.

I did not like what I saw

In the mirror of truth,

And I had to cut you loose.

I had to cut you loose!

Writing on the bus

Red lips are a weapon

No man can overcome.

They pierce through thick

Skin and bone, striking

Straight into the heart.

Red lips are a weapon.

Kisses rain down weakening

Defenses.  She pulls the

Strings of love, and I cannot

Resist. Futile attempts to

Stay in control fail.  I am

A prisoner of war.

Red lips are a weapon.

Passion blinds, and we are

Lost to time.  We are lost

To time.  She know the inner

Workings of my chamber,

The mechanism that makes

Me tick, and she dances on

Fragile glass, cracking shards

As she moves along.

Red lips are a weapon, and

They do destroy.  Epic devastation

In the wake of their use, total

Annihilation.  She dances on fragile

Glass, laughing in his arms, 

Spinning in his arms, smiling

In his arms... In his arms.

Red lips are a weapon,

But at least she's happy.

The Hermit's Journal #8

Overcast days still can't stop UV Rays.

It's easier to hide, on a bus or at work,

Dark shades and cap, words seldom

Break lips as life collapse.  No one sees

Clearly, even I on the outside am just the same - never stepping outside my comfort zone. 

Wake up, my dreams speak truth.

My skin still burns underneath the veil,

Crisp and peeling, shedding the old 

Fearful self - a new birth begins,

Through pain comes life.

I stand above a roaring ocean,

My voice echoes across the seas,

Peace is within reach.

Life is a choice, and how we live

Reveals the who we are.

I will no longer be idle,

Watch me run wild,

Like I was reborn to be.

Impromptu on the way to work

Set in motion,

Circular rotation

Destiny speeds

Ahead, never looking

Back.  History repeats,

Dejavu stories in time,

War is always the same

Story lines, just different

Characters playing similar

Roles. Reason is never

Responsible, madness and

Selfish ambitions dominate.

Lust, greed grow, and destiny

Cycles around, spinning 

Perpetually throughout time.

The People sit idly by, pawns

In the hands of power, 

Where is Love?  Media blitz

Blurs information, and everyone

Believes they are so informed.

I sit with my head in the sand,

And I let life pass by - why?

There is nothing left to give,

Emptiness and shallowness

Rules the roost - where do we

Touch? Heart's bleed green,

We do not Ned, just want.

The Hermit's Journal # 7

Emotions interfere with rationale,

And yet, they make life worth living...

Passion holstered is a sad existence,

Why be afraid to be free.

Contemplation considers all,

Lack of action is our fall.

Strips of white twist into

A blue background. Up,

Up is where I keep my eyes.

I never seem to see the ground,

Stumbling, scraping knee and chin,

Always rising, silently with a grin.

The strips of white change to red,

And blue darkens into black.

Thousands of eyes begin to look

Down, watching me fumble around.

We stare at each other until the light

Comes and vanquishes the night,

At least for now, but I'll be alright.

The Hermit's Journal - Entry 6

No rhyme, or reason,

Words just arrive

Like a feather floating

In the wind. Time passes

By as I gently free fall.

No beat, or drum marching,

Just silence in a moment.

The Hermit's Journal - entry 5

Life rushes over me like a flash flood.  Most people, at least I think, would see these things approaching, or at least be aware of the warnings on the news.  I am disconnected from the system, and I sit in the wilderness, life, hiding in the shelter  I have built to keep others out.  

I am a dreamer, and obviously unrealistic.  There is always a way in, no matter what defenses we have in place. Nothing could stop Her, my defenses were useless.

She arrived silently, working down the street from me.  My words had not been formulated into print then, it was just raw and pure randomness.  We interacted professionally for a few months, never really speaking of anything more than what needed to be said.  I honestly don't know how she maneuvered to bypass my defenses, or maybe I went on the attack. When you're drawn to someone, it's like an overwhelming force that just pulls you.

She became my Muse from a distance, and I became careless and reckless. I began to write random poems, and sharing thoughts that she always said was profound.  I am simple, flatter my ego and I fall.  

S words

Seldom seen scenes,

Sweetly seduce screen.

Secrets swift, swell 

Slicing safety's shell.

She slid softly,

Squeezing shoulders sore

Speaking sublime sentences

Seeking subtle styles

She speaks spoken word

Stories shadow situations

She's seen... She shouts

Sorrowful, soul shattering 

Screams.  Standing still

Searching skies, seas 

She seeks someone

Just not me.

Untitled - On the Bus to work

Beauty is rain

Soaking earth

And clothes,

Beating drums 

Cleansing aroma

Inciting peace

Touching every sense.

Grey days 

Sweep by

And brilliance

Breaks through

Into colors

Bright, demanding

To be noticed.

She demands it too,

Memories of feelings

Awake, alive inside

Holding on 

To her essence,

Inspiration.

Draft - revised

My heart cries out, reaching into shadows,

Searching for Her.  She still pulls at my heart,

Even though she is now a ghost, unseen.

Her voice is whispers in the past, dancing

Within my ears. She lives in dreams, alive,

Drawing my soul towards inspiration.

She left a remnant of her being wrapped

Around me like a shroud.  I feel the peace 

In Her presence, and I wonder if she

Still feels mine. She is a one way street, and

I live in her shadow, searching for light.

Draft -

She still pulls my heart,

Though she's a ghost now,

Unseen, Unheard,

Just felt... drawing 

My soul towards

Inspiration. She left

A remnant of her being

Wrapped around me

Like a shroud, laying

Me to rest.  I feel

The peace she gave 

Me, I feel her presence,

And I wonder, does

She feel mine? Is this

A one way street? Does

She hide in the shadows

Avoiding me?  

Alive, I am raging with life,

And it is wasted inside.

I search my essence because

I believe she is there

Caressing, nourishing,

Encouraging....  She is

A friend, my muse, and

She left me... Not alone,

But with a piece of her,

So I can go on.

People often crumble in life,

We have to pick up the shards

And put our life back together.

It often looks different afterwards.

I look back with joys and regrets,

Knowing I handle everything wrong.

I pray she is well, knowing all along

She is aspiring and inspiring,

As she floats along.

The Hermit's Journal - Entry 4

I don't understand why my mind shuts down in social situations. It just does.  I believe it is easier in this day and age for us awkward people to be alone.  Everything is at our finger tips, technology makes it so.  It's easy to escape the loneliness, though I feel it makes it more difficult to accomplish anything.  

I don't write the way I would, a hundred years ago.  I often imagine living in a wilderness and living off the land like Thoreau, one of my many ancestors who wrote. Distant relations, all those creative minds, and I sit alone observing the world from a safe distance.  

It is definitely a Brave New World and 1984 rolled into one.  Manipulation by the Mass Media keeps propaganda flowing and leaves society confused and helpless.  Society escapes into things, into desires, into technology, into selfishness..... Where is the greater good for mankind?  

I understand hard work and incentive brings out the best. I also understand suffering ad lack of the basic needs of survival.  There are families leaving in cars because the cannot afford rents. 

Who am I?  Silence.  I had in my dreams, never speaking out Against injustice.... I had inside the walls I built, keeping everyone out to protect a fragile heart from the cruelties of life.  It is not helpless, we just make ourselves feel that way.  I have open my voice, and it will grow in time.  No more silence.

Draft

Productive, 

I yearn stability

Black and white

Is gray.  Where 

Does color begin?

Red and yellow

Faded, monotone

Rainbow.  The sun's

Light is dull.  We see

Two-dimensional, and

We hide in flat lives,

Unfulfilled and clinging

To possessions, memories,

Safety in ignorance.  

What is the meaning, 

The purpose of being?

Eyes shut, we walk past

Starving children while

We ourselves over eat,

Eyes shut, we drive on

Past the crimes we see.

Justice is a money making

Operation, and we the people

Float along in the stream,

Allowing wrong to seize

The day.

Romanticize

Your fingers stand still,

Forever engraved on

Nerve endings, signaling

A hormone release

That induces nostalgia.

I see our hands dancing,

Flesh to flesh, magnetic

Forces pulling them

Close, electricity 

Circulating between 

The pair.

Where did I go wrong?

A Tuesday evening,

You vanished without

A trace:  I trace the

Image of your palm

Upon sand, yearning

For the past. 

I hold on to this image,

Perhaps lies I convince

Myself that there was more,

Than the really was.

Wednesday Evening

Exhausted

Fuel burns rapidly

Flames dull grey

Wednesday Morning

Liquid space

Tidal motions pull

Yin and Yang

Muse Abuse

Beauty holds many
Forms, visual to
Psychological.
She arrived in red,
Swirling fire,
Demanding desire.
I left on Tuesday,
Searching for more,
She didn't wait,
Left straight through
The door.  I smiled,
Wondering where
My mind was. Lesson
Learned.  Tuesdays,
Forever a horror day,
But I'll forever adore
That day... the day
I found love, and lost
Love.

She left in silence,
I went mad in
Isolation.  Torment,
Anguished..

Lesson learned.

Beauty holds many
Forms, a sadness
Of a life lived, and
A sadness of a life
Lost. Emotions,
Actions... Interact
Commingling.
Conspiring destruction,
Self-destruction.

She held my heart,
And dropped it
In the gutter.

The Hermit's Journal entry 3

I forgot the mind shuts down

In a crowd, my voice softens

To a near whisper, and I sit

In silence.  

It's good to be among the living,

Though I sink deeper into

Reclusion each time I step

Outside.  I miss the Suns warmth,

And sand between my toes. 

When will the grief end? 

I left all my friends,

And closed myself up inside...

Hid in books and music,

I don't even know 

Who is president?

Life passes unlived.

The Hermit's Journal - entry #2

I sat on the bank 

Watching the water 

Flow with leaves and 

Twigs slowly floating by.

I wondered what

Was beneath this gray

Liquid.  Loose earth 

Had made vision difficult.

I sat alone on the bank, 

As a great many rushed

By laughing.  I stood

To jump in, then quickly

Lost my nerve. Home 

Pulled me with a magnetic

Force that I could not resist.

The Hermit's Journal - Entry 1

Reclusion, at first 

Appears to be choice.

However, humans are creatures

Of habit, and a routine

Shyness can stop

A person from living

In this world.  

Disconnected - society

An ocean, and I 

Do not know how to swim.

I sit on the sand,

Peering out at the beauty,

Life flourishes and relationships

Bloom... I stagnate in

My loneliness.  How will

I grow in my introverted ways?

The box is sealed, and I 

Can't breathe.  I often

Dream of other paths, 

Green with flowers,

Water Flowing free,

Light of day...

I sit in darkness

Fearing the bitterness

The future holds.

Outside is dangerous,

And I am self sufficient

In my hiding,

Learning how to

Dream in color

Vivid and real

Though I live

In black and white.

I lost my muse

Walking defeats concentration.

My mind raced randomly,

From bills to red hills,

What I did, or didn't

So last night.

I just wanted to write,

Yet I couldn't focus.

My muse left long ago,

Yet I was riding 

The effects of her 

Memory.  She wrapped

Me in red....

Now everything is red...

My bank account,

The sun slipping beneath 

A darkening ocean,

My nose in spring....

The passion faded 

Rendering me useless.

Experience

The harsh hands of time

Beat like a drum upon flesh 

Day, night - black and blue

The Desert

Liquid
Burns fragile
Flesh, she consoles her pain.
Smirnoff tells her every midnight,
"Go home."

Yet she
Always responds,
"Home is where you make it,
And in your arms I am at peace."
She breathes

Easy,
Knowing worries
will vanish into dust.
Children cry, abandoned in night -
She breathes

Relief.
Warm liquid soothes,
Clarity in a glass.
Weak, life bleak, she does sin - never
Is true.

She wears
Masks, hiding self
In polluted water,
Liquid vapors vanish with time,
Not life.

Water,
Life source, fresh, clear -
Washed away in a drought.
Dust upon lips, dust within veins,
Bitter.

Green hills feed the lambs.
The lambs feed the human race.
Now, who do we feed?

The Ladder

Strange
the way
liquid builds
upon ice and
sinks into sand.
Slippery
the path
up.

Untitled

#1

Balance

Never seems to

Last. It sways back and forth,

More negative it seems.  I still

Keep peace.

# 2

Secrets,

Revel in them.

A power in knowledge 

Exploited to conform the mass.

Media

Controls

Society.

Free thoughts lost to implants.

The shepherds left us to the wolves.

F***ers!

-------

I apologize for the ending, I don't like using curse words. 

I Am Man, Alone

~To my lost muse~

Mechanical systems falter,

Wear comes with time.

Hearts' wrench - 

Turn bolts and nuts

In an attempt to fix

The blue door.

Now we sit,

Separate.

Two that was one,

Alone,

Covered in darkness.

Eyes black, unmoved.

The sea of flesh

Pushes forward

Deep into night.

The blue door mocks.

Incomplete.

No key to return home.

Half a person,

Alone,

And afraid.

Dark.

R.I.P.

Memories, or the lack there of are flowing through...

_________________________

March 4th, 2015 -Night

Father

Florida hurricanes and

Missouri tornadoes  

Were a breeze. 

California was shaking,

The ground moved

Faster than your feet.

Where was I?

You knew all the time,

Underneath the rubble

Of your life.   

____________________

March 4th, 2015 - 7:45AM

The warm sun soothes

The coldness that reigns.

A light touch, you can feel the

Comforting, as if it speaks,

"It will all be okay."

Grief is a natural state,

Yet how do you grieve

For someone you don't

Really know? They are

One, of two, that made you

So! The numbness comes

Fast, on a short, bitter, winter day.

My only friend is the Sun this day,

Teaching me to feel the fingers

Of warmth upon my face... Wrapping

Me in peace and comfort, protecting

Me from frost bite, letting me know

Spring is just around the corner...

As life falls into dust, ashes

Scatter to earth... Death rises

To life, and continues on.

Winter to Spring, transition

Of Death and Life.  We remain.

The Sun still rises in the east,

And I still dream of what could

Be. The past is history, and we

Just need to move on, following the

Lead of the Sun. We won't be here

Forever, so let's do something right.

Arcade

Fun,

It's what the youth want.

Now days everyone is young.

My father was born in 1945,

And he still hasn't grown up.

Peter Pan doesn't really fly.
He's alone, and can't really
Quite support himself.

Why is everything a game to him?
Relationships aren't something you can win.
Like lottery numbers picked randomly,
Fortune cookies give names of future mates.

I've seen him spin wheels,
Hold joysticks, and fire missiles
On not-so-imaginary missions.
Flashing lights distract
With constant background noise.

              -We murder remotely-

My father murders from a distance too,
Slicing with fine surgeon like precision.
Joy from a bruised stick -  Memories,
Lonely afternoons on a playground
While everyone else is at a Picnic.
Father's day was Mother's Day II.

War is fought different now.
He built the Berlin Wall,
Avoiding the West for 28 years.
Now he wants to know his son?
Psychological warfare.

Beginnings #2

Colors - Blue

I've been told blue is sadness.
Have you ever held water?
The ocean roars like a bear,
And hibernates just the same.

Peace is what I envision,
Crystal blue life lapping sand.
The distant horizon blends
Ocean and sky, heaven and earth.

Have you ever held water?
The source of life - the world.
I've been told it is sadness,
Fiction spreads wild fire.

Blue is both purity, and
Tranquility... Warmth from sun
Darkness evades bright blue days
There is no blue without light.

The beginnings

This is a new idea I'm working with... When I have free time. Hopefully I work with it and expand it...  I like the idea I have...

The Color Black

I've been warned of evil
Light reflects white
Avoid the night

He came with his trumpet
The rain fell hard that day
Like a black hole
He absorbed the light

Mirrors lie
It is what is inside
Clouds break into blue

Yellow streaks of truth
Never seen the moon

Saturday Morning

She slid into my heart with all her warmth.  It took time to thaw the ice that held love frozen in time. The Past held the minds eye in hypnosis.... Never able to move forward. 

She slid into my heart with all her warmth.  Melting the snow capped mountains that stood in the way of love.  I climbed up and over to meet her at the top. 

It's the first time I saw the sunrise... Majestic beauty... A painters pallet,  passion and life.  

She rose and climbed into my chest... Awake for the first time, I stretch to the warmth inside.  A peace fell upon me, and I held her tight.

To My Love

Beauty found in a moment

An everyday routine

Predictable is not bad

Reliability brings security 

And the time changes

With the seasons

We change as the years 

Embraced with love

To distance from touch

Life is more like the weather

We never truly get it right

It's the moment, a single instant

That fills us with warmth and awe

Binding two hearts as one

Like the rising sun, consistent

Persistent to bring moments 

Of brilliance and wonder 

Joy Division

Shadow Play https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mpZUPPTyjo

Growth

Music sometimes feels like it defines who you are.  For the first 18 years of my life, I was not eclectic in any way.  I held on to the music I originally associated my identity to, with an almost primitive grip . The above link is far from where I was so many years ago.  Today, I listen to everything from Classical to Jazz to Punk... to name a few. Originally I only listened to what I considered underground Hip Hop (early 90's).

Music really does have an effect on moods and the soul.  It doesn't mean it defines who I am, or who anyone is.  To be trapped in one genre really limits us, and prevents growth.   I guess we can take that into many different areas in life... we shouldn't limit ourselves, and I constantly have to overcome my worse enemy... the cliche of it being me.

~~~~



I recently went to a Blonde Redhead concert... I enjoyed it. :) They are definitely better live in my opinion.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZPXBE7cfLFY


~~~

Finally, here's something from my past... one of the most underrated MC's ever... I no longer listen, but I still have a soft spot in my heart.  Dang stubborn man I am, won't let go of my roots.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AOU5LOYvibQ

A Morning Write (shared in the night)

Winter Fog

A white blanket wraps bodies in warmth
She lies shivering, dreaming of a blanket
that never seems to wrap her

Heat lost to the winter
Frost lips bite bitter cold
Dissatisfaction

Upon clouds she scopes the scene
A white wintry fiction
Unfolds before her eyes

Shivering, teeth chattering
The Spring can't come
Soon enough

A Winter Day

The sky was blotted out with gray, and that gray seemed to extend to ground. It was like being the horizon, seeing the sky and ocean mingle right before you... except it was gray - a gray devoid of colors and light - just bland.

I like the gray.. on occasion.  It brings a melancholy that goes well with certain classical music.  Maybe I confuse nostalgia and melancholy... or perhaps they both are intertwined in that instant.  Whatever it is... that bland security blanket that hides me from the world... brings a warmth of peace with it.  

It's predictable.  It's just another day one would think... yet it ended with a spectacular twist.  The sunset burned through leaving the final moments of the day with a colorful array... red orange fire, purple haze, both midnight and pastel blue....  mountains black shadows... trees black leaves and branches blocking views...  

Gray days are here.  Routine, mundane... but not really.  These days are as filled with life as any other... just harder to see or recognize.  All one needs to do is stop, look outwards, and see the beauty before us.  

~

Cold icy lips - she said just one kiss

Passion shouldn't be missed.

Sneaky girl seeking bliss.

Momentarily amiss -

Cold icy lips - leads to an abyss.

Poet's of G+ Quarterly

http://issuu.com/dusttexture/docs/pog__quarterly/1

The above link takes you to a Quarterly featuring one of my Poems.  :) 

A short rant on Resumes, followed with an impromptu

Note: I spent today combing through resumes, wondering if people are serious about finding work?  If you've went through someones resume lately, maybe you'd understand. Please, do someone, or yourself a favor... let someone proof read it!   You're not getting your foot in the door if you do not take your resume seriously.  It doesn't matter what experience you have, what educational background (Master degree huh?), or if you are really the perfect person for the job... we'll never find out if that last one is the case because of so many different mistakes.  Spelling errors, grammatical errors, cover letters tailored to a completely different job and industry.... they may have free resume help at colleges, or unemployment offices. Do yourself a favor - perfect the art of the resume and the cover letter... and down play your experience if you're over qualified.  Ugh... I'm done complaining and head back to my regular writings.

~~~~

Blue sealed the day -
eyes revealed the pain.
News I never watch,
'Je Suis Charlie'

I don't support the lot,
but I am offended.
On many occasions...
Standing lost in a crowd
Watching a clown
attack my savior...
but death?

Freedom isn't for everyone.
I sat down oppressed,
Trying to write, depressed...
Fear?  That left me long ago
9/11 taught me not to believe
In people protecting me.
Passion rages freely,
and I see the pain every day...

You believe... in something more.
I don't begrudge you for that...
so please don't begrudge me
for my disbelief.  I see the satirical
comedy...life - it's interesting.
Fragile, and unpredictable...
Here today, gone tomorrow.

Opinion... we have them.
Truth is but an illusion
We use to comfort ourselves.

The day sealed blue,
pain revealed in eyes...
I watch the news never,
'Je Suis Charlie'
Is all I hear, and see...
I never read the magazine.

Nor do I know anything.
Negativity perplexes me.
I sit, I sin, I hide... and I live my life
while others die for what they believe.

Who's the coward, me?

I run in circles, insignificant
in the grand scheme of things -
trying to make ends meet.

What have I done to change anything?
Rebelled in words,
actions speak louder than words..
and my hands are tied...
I have a family, and I don't want to die.

Tomorrow comes quickly,
Death with his scythe
Sweeping me aside.

I guess it was just my time.

Memories fade, and I'll be forgotton,
though my line may continue on.

What is the point of life?  Why do we die?
What's the point of killing?
Why do we commit crime?

The ideal world lies in the past,
and here we are - crowded, tired,
and trapped in unreality.  Alive,
but complacent.  Trapped
in a controlled world - believing
what we're told.

Fear is the enemy -
I refuse to be afraid.
'Je Suis Charlie."

_

I write without regrets.  Straight from the mind to the fingertips.
I probably should proof read, but I don't...
Hmm, I'm not the one looking for a job.

~

There is a truth that lies within,
we either let it out, or we become false
and conform to other people.

Stay true to yourself... (Argggh... goodnight!)

A New Year

The approach of another day,counted down with excitement as parties began to accelerate.  I sat on the outside, watching the chaos of drunkenness crescendo into a stupor.   They slurred Auld Lang Syne, and mumbled nonsense words as fillers. I stood there feeling superior, though knowingly jealous of their freedom to let go.   I stood there enraged of yet another year I spent alone.

There's always the invites to strange new places, with strange new people, and it always seems to end the same.  It's as if Loneliness settles into the bones, and it becomes a part of your marrow.  I rather be outside observing life, than actually being apart of it.  

It was a long walk home.  I was in my own drunken stupor, and for some reason determine to walk six miles in the snow.  It was theoretical snow... because in my mind - the difficulty I was having walking would be equivalent to walking into soft snow knee high.  It seems sad and pathetic thinking about that part, but I know how the story ends.  Serendipity was soon to strike, and strike she sure did!

I was hit by a car.  Not just any car, but a Mini Cooper.  In fact, clowns started pouring out of the car by the bus load. Well okay, I was hallucinating, or dreaming that part as I was unconscious... but a Mini Cooper took me out.  I don't recall the ambulance ride, nor how long I have been in the hospital.  It could have been a few hours, or perhaps a few months... I just know I was lucky to be alive.

(Happy New Year - The above is 100% fiction - a little snippet I just wrote on the fly.  Some day I may continue it, or not... :)