8/30/16

Executive Notes #4


The framing and agreements.
Accessing the stage.
Direct the movie or help it along.
The point of emphasis.
A missed opportunity.
The do-over theory fails again.
Something new.
Try it out.
Solve instead of blaming.
Think it through.
Multiple choices.
Don't pick two or three.
Just the one.
Agree to agree on the agreement.
To each thier own.
Clearly defined and true.
These writings are filed away.
Always, they will exist.


The left hand.  Drinks should be held in the left hand at parties.  This leaves the right hand open for high fives, knuckle pops, and shakes.  The scrips are fading, mind wires are newly rewired.  Distracted by the elements themselves, gotta slow and think and listen.  Disrupted by funny forces.  An active mind.  The blues are easy, self pity comes natural.  A waste of time.  This finite time.  Good for the goose, but what about the gander.  Skip a phase and question reality.  Find meaning in the known way.  It is reality.

Fear seekers.
When decisions are made.
When sleep is lost.
For another day.
Buzzing around.
Camera drones that flutter.
Like the mockingbirds.
One by one into the Pacific Sea.
This metal, light as styrofoam.
Lighter than tin.
Stronger than steel.
Undestructable.
Wavering in the wind.
Researched and developed.
Tried and tried and tried.
Not fearing the future.
Learning from the past.


8/27/16

Celebration Toast


A wild party up there.
Dancing freely and loose.
Bopping back and forth.
Like a celebration toast.
Hollars and whoopies.
Arms and hands raised up.
Together they sway.
Hips moving it all around.
Popping music.
Breaks and thumps.
Then a cosmic slowdown.
Occupying the space.
Full pillars of musical smoke.
Playing all the way through.
Old and young under the same sun.
Facing the same future.
Nothing new.

8/26/16

Before The Thief Comes


Instincts and restraint.
Perception control.
Set in a square.
For all to see.

Bleeding all alone.
In our minds and hearts.
Unable to exist.
Peacefully.

Blaming the winds.
The storms and tides.
Fearing the flood.
Of the century.

Begin healing now.
Before the night falls.
Before the thief comes.
In the light.

8/21/16

Unresolved Lasagne Conflict


His aversion to meatless meals was known.
This aversion is unexplained and explanation is unimportant.
Perhaps there are deeper divisions.
It could be a proxy.
Her offering something knowing it will be rejected is a certain kind of agitation.
The rejection happened politely, despite the irritation.
Accomodations were made.
This unresolved lasagne conflict.
A meat pizza pie was ordered.
Or two, it was.
Quietly, so the little ones suspected nothing.
Then the insistence, and the truth is invoked.
Statistics and  personal testimonials.
Reminded of Guy Clark's homegrown tomatoes.
Of eggplant parmesan.
The tofu I've had.
Delicious.
Even now I crave that vegan italian dish.
But this was another's story.
And this happened in Connecticut.
His resistance to the insistence offended her.
Any preacher's folly.
This was punk rock, is what it was.
Stubborn and unrelenting, destructive to peace.
No meating halfway.
By either.
This was only the first night.
They found common ground eventually, both insisting to each other that The Don is the end of America.
Politics, bringing Mother In Laws and Son In Laws together since time began.
I dig The Don so I just kept quiet.


8/20/16

The Eyes Have It


...the light is only getting dimmer.  the lost must sleep too.  restless and worried, we are all occupied.  the tricks and lies.  promises of splendor.  into the mush they roam, jumping on trains and planes. boots on the ground, like an old voice of yesterday.  the eyes have it.  they see it clear.  but they can be shut, they can be closed, for just a bit of gold.  the way it works, dedicating lives of service.  fighting hard for us, consequential decisions and leadership.  all greased, of course.  eases the friction.   smoothness and gliding hums.  the machine is not broke.  it is running as designed.  perfectly, in fact.  but, it is not our machine.  we are only providing the electricity, there is nothing in return.  what the machine produces goes out the back.  on to trucks.  in the middle of the night and on weekends.  it runs all the time.  generators full of gasoline stand by.  in case a fuse pops.  wires run under all the seas.  satellites above transmit constantly.  even now, everything is recorded.  ant drones, working for the queen.  machines like this must be sledgehammered.  even the microprocessors must be smashed.  every part of every part must be liquified.  with this melted molten a new structure can be cast.  with no moving parts, solid and inspiring.  no grease required, and without mechanical breakdowns.  wireless and connected.  peaceful and true.  the blues will wail.  the academics will mock.  the anchors will go bust.  for the people they say.  of the people we say...

8/18/16

Vegan Preacher


afgc
daec

all I can do is follow the goose.
all I can say is it doesn't pay.

who would choose to play the blues.
who's gonna take my peace today.

clear your ears and listen here.
wave around and ride to town.

vegan preacher, a thin skinned creature.
eat what you found from the ground.

8/16/16

One Rung At A Time


amd7ame

Ladder it up.
Beliefs and differentiations.
Leaving good impressions.

One rung at a time.

Making impressions too.
Here's who I am.
Here's what I do.

One rung at a time.

The methods involved.
What if all the world really cared?
Proven success.

One rung at a time.

Examples all around.
Lets do business.
Unique and exclusive.

One rung at a time.

The value is real.
It clangs like money.
And all your dreams will come true.

8/13/16

Only One Beat Behind


the floods came, started early and washed the land.  unexpected for another 500 years.  floods like no one had ever seen.  the skies were hot.  beyond red and purple, we drove through the white.  bright bolts guiding our way, thunder only one beat behind.

nothing like the blind drive, though.  on the mountain highway, coming off the slick red cliffs, Tracy Chapman tunes and not feeling the road.  line driving at night, hypnotic snow show in the light beams ahead.  tight tight neck, muscles clenched down the back.  eyes useless looking forward, just line driving.

the flood stalled and kept flooding.  heavy water going.  these are lowlands to begin with.  down from the delta, where the ocean has found its way in, where swamps are always wet, where it's muddy.  a corvette spin, a rocking truckload, and double tow setup.  a few of the hazards.  escaped to the north, through Alexandria and on to Texas.  these roads must be lifted, put the houses on stilts.

8/11/16

Unwinked Winks


The fish of the day is delicious.
Sauteed with butter.
Lemon pepper is best.
Blackened only works if they know how it's done.......

Beers from bottles stuffed with limes.
Relationship models and sights.
The insincere are always near.
Scamming dollars and proud.......

Conversions and integrations.
More evolutions and gyrations.
Concrete cutting motivates.
The world waits for no one.......

We are only riders.
Suspended somehow.
Inertial forces unknown.
Unwinked winks of faith.......

Patrols continue through the day.
Profiling voices and features.
Knowing statistics and tendencies.
The crooks are easy to spot.......

But eyes are intentionally covered.
The bag is full of dough.
All of it is for sale.
We are owned.......


8/10/16

Mere Hours


Look further out, past the horizon.
Where the waves don't break.
Where the sea rocks back and forth.

Rise up ambitions, sink the past.
When time does its thing on the soul.
When days seem like mere hours.

Crash on the beach, white and wild.
How the old explorers arrived.
How they claimed it as their own.

Faith in the wind, it will come to pass.
Why sails were used to control it.
Why they determined their destination.

EA
E
B7


8/9/16

Karma Heads


.superstitious and karma heads.
.movements seen from a perch.
.the ball flew over the wall.
.blue tag is what you need.
.checked in at the ariel dunes.
.the first one.
.with welcome soaps and mats.

.one go round is all.

.red flag full out and flapping.
.beach, white and soft as always.
.waves made by deep sea storms.
.curling big and crashing.
.dove right through it.
.with a pain in the neck.

.the edge is so near.

.golfers hacking up the grass.
.a few are pure and true.
.dark clouds with lightening bolts.
.take a nap til afternoon.
.the butterfly stroke.
.more medals than anyone ever.
.usa.
.this food is stale.
.get some flavor going.

.fried fried fried's been tried tried tried.

.no coasting on the emerald coast.
.finishing the season strong.
.with smiles and welcomes.
.dallas amigos.
.stopping in the big easy on the way back.
.jazzing it up, late and greezy.
.the senoritas watching out.
.preoccupations and frustrations.
.moments of life.

8/6/16

Appearance Fee


Last night I rode to the picture show.
Saw a picture bout what we know.
All night long, the wrath of Kahn.
Told us all bout whats gone wrong.

Shame on us, we lie and cuss.
Not one person that we all can trust.
Not no more, He opened the door.
Kick up your strut and hit the floor.

The brilliant class decided to pass.
Like it like it is with the kickbacks.
The people yawn, just move along.
Somebody else will fix what's wrong.

Think again, the robbers win.
Stashed the cash over in Iran.
Make a speech to the world's elite.
Bout how you earned this appearance fee.

cg/fc
gf/cg


Executive Notes #3


Gone are the days of worry.  The days of a perception game.  When the moves mattered and the slights were noted.  It is forward with open mind and willing soul.  Just as music is better as it evolves over time, each evolution taking from the others.  Music is the worst when it is sucked back into nostalgic rewind.  Classic rock is a sorry myth.  Move beyond comfort.  Ignore your instincts.  Determine your path.  This is where free will matters.  There is no salvation in it, of course, but there is liberation and joy.  Salvation is another matter and not a choice.  It was an act, historical and true.  For now, strive to serve, not to please.  Enjoy people and things and places.  Sporadic actions and random curiosities.  Settle library debts.  Don't go silently, seek to understand and determine.  There is scientific knowledge of great importance.  An unorthodoxed approach, initiating and agreeing to disagree.  No pawn of any system, nobody's efficient machine.  Complexities of the next stage.

8/5/16

Fortunes Will Change


Just give it all away.
That's all.
Be nice and don't hate.
Envy nothing or nobody.
Live and let live.
As they say.
Shun thievery and thuggery.
These are good things.

Regaldless of our inability to always implement these good things fully or without reservations.

If you can accept this, then you should.
Some are born.
Some are made.
Some choose.
Cold hearts are not intended.
Laws upon laws.
The young cannot be hindered.
They will go and be sought.
Just as He seeks the old.
Animosity is not permanent.
Renewal of all things.
On those twelve thrones.
Fortunes will change.


8/2/16

Your Beauty Remains


They are miracles.
Each day.
Everything involved.
For us to be.
Together to forever.

Life with a reason.
So others might know.
And if they knew love.
They might tell others.
So they might know.
It's all a good life needs.
Some words.

The closer we get.
The calmer we become.
Resting in light.
Your beauty remains.


7/31/16

Off With The Locks


the day starts early with tuned strings and glow.  a curving Wylie drive.  three full hours on the court, pressing our bodies to the limit.  and beyond.

dizziness and stars.

hung on for a late win, the serve of last resort.  T is for Texas, flat and on the line.  Unreturnable.  the newer models are just promises, they don't always live up.

breakfast of the casa made everyone smile.  a pool dip and jet work, then off with the locks old man.  the southpaw rewind.

like rocky six.

life will beat you down enough, the foot spasm only a reminder.  political entertainment and corruption illuminations.  the truth is not in us.  poor balloon pop with no survivors.

it was snatch later in the afternoon.  the Irish gypsy and the Turk.  hands in the pocket, over committed.  the worker's return for a restful night.

worries delayed, cars parked.

the brows and tanners, beach talk, and sweets.  planning brunch and doing toes.  this family of now.  out on the bridge, evolving to another era, accepting and forgiving.

7/28/16

The Devil Cries


The devil cries.
When we shine the light.
The devil moans.
When we're not alone.
The devil hurts.
When he hears the word.
The devil falls.
When we sing love songs.

Supernatural ways of our mysteries.
Even the devil knows the truth.
He got no road outta here.
And now the devil's feeling blue.

The devil cries.
When we get baptized.
The devil howls.
When we pray aloud.
The devil sinks.
The blood we drink.
The devil's done.
We got him on the run.

GCx4
FCGC


7/25/16

Mosquito's Breakfast Haiku


Eyeballed me real good.
Took a long drink of my blood.
Mosquito's breakfast.

7/24/16

Then Go


into the wilderness they went.
there is snakes there too.
slithering around.
only the cold shoulder works.
cut out the heat.
the coolness of it all.
light and floating.
the air moved around by huge winds.
from nowhere.

then off again to maintain momentum.

but a rest in the stillness of the desert.
the dry lands.
where water is truly life.
and life is fought for and loved.
bury the chains of expectations.
pray for the ghost.
stop the madness of success.
the blood and body are enough.
and failures are forgiven too.

ready for the big sleep.
ocean roars hypnotizing.
smell of a salty breeze.
for a period of time only.

then go.

7/23/16

Free Spirits Still Fly


a kicker
running short on peace
attainment of priorities
toil
talk of the elders
the word gets through
like it does
encourage and wait
til then
when then comes to an end
timeless
void of units
without measures
locked in this age
free spirits still fly
lunatics on the floor
hope in men and women
the folly of the parties
slogans and hats
microphones and hollow noise
tendons heal
dizzy heat from the concrete
what we take for granted
and the pipeline fills
hustlers and masked people
in the name of their god
the bastard's lies
minds of babies
convinced of justice
defend the indefensible
the call
it is unimportant
fear, I mean
let the rock out
the song lingers and lingers
form a square
eyes connecting
work the patterns
they fit together somehow

7/19/16

Memories Of Sways


.a general deflation.
.melting and runny.
.scrambled thought.
.unsure and careful.
.look to the ignored.
.claim the ridiculed.
.review holy creeds.
.cynical be damned.
.hiphip hooray I say.
.tune in to the radio.
.listen to the rockers.
.memories of sways.
.give em eyes to see.

7/18/16

Hay


go make the hay.
get up early and start cutting.
long rows, straight as strings.

see that it dries a bit.
in the sun and heat.
but, get it before it rains.

big bales quicker.
the square still sell.
these machines make it easy.

part farmer, part mechanic.
greaser towels and buckets of soap.
workshop was off limits.

get that hay in the barn.
the clouds will cry eventually.
and we all must eat.

7/16/16

Glorious Water


Overeactions to come.  Rightousness and elitist yokel-babble.  It will never stop.  Thanks for getting educated.  Your brilliance is obvious and refined.  Right?  Like being your own cheerleader, which is completely natural.  However, this desperation can be avoided with self awareness and practice.  The solutions come from somewhere else.  We know this.  Centered in breathing techniques and moments.  And it works.

Sog the land with intense summer showers, appearing from nothing and moving quick.  Everything cleaner.  Glorious water.

The eyes change overnight, figurative perspective and literal eyeball performance.  The downfall of man is an inward force.  The external forces are constant and timeless, some destructive, some saving.

There is no salvation internally.  It is not of us, it is for us.

7/12/16

Executive Notes: #2


Practiced and practiced. Sliced and diced. Shook and shaked. Added and subtracted. I do like models. Start with objections and questions. Have a point of view. Count it off and say it aloud. The storey transition. Did no juicing, no fertilizer bought. Routines are easy, ruts are tough. Let's get on the court.

Somewhere between value ladder and as we speak.  Out there in emotional intelligence and completing sentences.  Preparations and anxieties of the blinding kind.  Differentiation and real value.  Wrecked.  Understanding the replacability, repeatability, and respectability.  Leaving stones unturned and memorizing lines.

Leaving a Good Impression.  Flawless Execution.  The Navajo Story.  Reworked and mined.  Somewhat framed.  Anticipation of the presentation.  And questions upon questions.  Posture and movements.


7/10/16

Heaven Is Badass


Always sunny with a cool wind blowing.
Understanding things with a complete knowing.
No more pain or decay or trash.
Thank you Jesus, heaven's so badass.

Ignorance don't exist no more.
No more tragedies to endure.
No murders or market crash.
Thank you Jesus, heaven's badass.

So I say to the scum and rude of this world.
I'm one of you if I'm honest with myself.
Remember the times I acted low class
Thank you Jesus, heaven's so badass.

For now I'll just bide my time.
Fake a smile and hide my crimes
So when I croke, when I pass.
Sing about heaven being so badass.

GCG.
D7CG.



So To Speak


.the lingering look.
.don't waste your time.
.move during the transition.
.set still for the point.

.decisions are made emotionally.
.not logically.

.contrast and give hope.
.the challenge is clear.
.introductions come later.
.as the case is made.
.needed information only.
.cut the gluff.
.use natural gestures.
.the ones always known.
.breathe deep, as usual.
.build the momentum.
.light it up.

.so that they will.

.behave a certain way.
.take a step.
.be convinced.

.and it is important.
.otherwise, it is a foolish waste of time.
.with nothing to gain.
.so to speak.
.always we are relative.
.Einstein said it.
.most everything matters for some reason.
.we hate to admit.
.thinking our own matters matter more.
.like the older children.
.entitled and just.

.ac/dc rocked and rocked.
.bottle rock music.
.another empty head.
.trail of dusty tears and muddy sweat.
.nothing can avoid the eventuality.
.as we all know.
.and forget for a time.
.temporarily denied.

.trying some new spices.
.we'll eat it anyway.
.like never buying the same wine.
.try all the reds.
.the white's been done.

.the black liquid is what's left.

.hyped up early.
.when the motivation comes easy.

Thickest Brush


Something bout asking for freedom. Be nice to me or we're surely done. These later years aren't nearly as fun. Let's all shake it down. Yes, let's all shake it down.

Support through all the loss and woe. No one else could ever be this close. 'member when we was making a toast. Let's all shake it up. Yes, let's all shake it up.

Those days were never long enough. Only good memories of our love. Path goes through the thickest brush. Let's all shake it loose. Yes, let's all shake it loose.
ememd7emx3
d7am
d7em


7/2/16

American Dreams


gd7
amgx3
d7

not gonna do what the doctor say,
going to California anyway.
loosing my mind, choosing my time.

everybody left the other day,
left in the morning went every which way.
loosing my mind, choosing my time.

the law tells you all you need to know,
make a mistake and you gotta go.
making a scene, American dreams.

shout your name and make it glow,
everybody sees you in slo mo.
making a scene, American dreams.


we all living our lives,
we all got our liberty,
pursue your happiness,
we've all been freed.


better and better always better,
ranked at the top and got those letters.
ivy educations, formal occasions.

wished now that he'd never left her,
knew he loved her the moment he met her.
ivy educations, formal occasions.



Cowboy Wolves

   
     Four white cowboys came into the teepee and sat down across from them.  Big, huge cowboy hats.  Spurs jangling as they walked.  Immediately, his three friends fell asleep.  Only him, the medicine man, and the cowboys remained awake.  A fire burned in the middle and it was smokey.  Then the faces of the cowboys began to change, narrowing and elongating.  Fangs appeared and he looked over to the medicine man who was very calm and void of any fear.  He was seeing the same thing.  Claws formed, black hair grew quickly all over.  Their clothes ripped, they made snorting and growling sounds.  Their eyes were golden and  fierce.  Suddenly, one by one, they left.  To who knows where.  They just fled.  The medicine man then looked over to him and said he had nothing for him.  He too had no fear.  Telling me the story, he claimed it was because he had Christ in his heart and I didn't question it.

     The missing piece for some.  Creation, what the Creator created, is easy.  Look around, nature or mother earth or father earth.  Evident.  The Spirit too, it can be felt and summoned.  There it is, rituals and prayers and songs.  Welling up tears, having compassion, forgiveness even.  Christ is not felt or seen.  He is only known through faith, which is created by the Spirit and The Word.  This story made me think of the Trinity for some reason, but it was clear in my mind.  Three in One.  And science is clear, the human brain likes threes.  It works best in threes.  It understands threes.

     His friends woke after all the cowboy wolves ran out.  They saw nothing, they remembered nothing, they believed the story anyway.

     And I believe Christ is in his heart.

6/29/16

A Big Mystery


     Kneeling near the shaded tree line.  Bout from here to there, 100 yards or so.  Frozen, hair sticking up on his neck, he made out the figure.  Some sort of animal, maybe.  Then it stood up.  It was taller than a house and ran off back through the forest.  An animal alright.  A somewhat human looking giant animal.  That was the first time it was seen by this native of the area.  Evidently, a camera or phone was not available.
     It was the next encounter that left a huge impression and validated the first as authentic.  He told of a sprint across the highway.  The road to Gallup, NM.  Then it glided gracefully over fences, smooth as butter and fast.  His cousin saw this too.  Amazed.  It all happened really quick.  No time to snap a photo.  These are incredible things to see, shocking things to see.  Taking a photo was only a minor thought.  He spoke of his fear liberally.
     The final encounter was at his mother's house, I believe.  Up on a rock or in the mountains.  Near St. Michael.  In the Navajo Lands.  He was there when a massive banging on the house began.  Loud, demonstrative discriptions.  Boom.  Bam.  And wild hand gestures.  The beast never entered the house.  A sawed off shotgun was retrived and held out of a doorway, sideways.  He was too scared to step out. Firing it like this produced a huge back kick, and the gun went flying.  The intended target took off running, again into the forest.  Further inspection of the peremiter of his mother's house revealed emmense footprints.  The feet of someone, or something, really big.  He spoke of others who have seen, over and over, this mystery being.  He talked of eaten animals and deformed trees.  And I had seen these trees that were used to provide back scratching for the creature.  Won't be camping at that place.
     Continued inquiry of video or pictorial documentation was dismissed or ignored.  He mentioned two phones and an SD card he left at his house, but that seemed a diversion.  A camera stakeout should be organized and arranged.  An all nighter.  Or, perhaps, the mystery is better.  A big mystery.

6/28/16

Dirty Cloud


that UFO covered up by a dirty cloud.
been hovering all night.
moves during the day.
the windows tinted dark green.

angels and flying Vs.
flimsy proof of an abduction.
three dots that quiver.
and a loss of time.

the one had long yellow hair.
down to her feet.
she wore flowing garments.
knew she was a woman right off.

these stories were vivid.
each with a another story to tell as well.
I realized this only later.
I listened literally.

they move in erratic movements.
they camouflage invisibly to most.
look up and have no fear.
we are most certainly the aliens.

6/26/16

Young Spirit, Old Soul


Young spirit, old soul.

The ability and willingness to evolve.

Away from present knowledge, into the future.

A long time from now.

And forever.

6/25/16

Huff Is Tough

   
     Arriving at the courts, moonroof open, my radio was jacked up high.  Blaring Frank Zappa, loud cosmic riffs, singing about how his guitar is going to kill somebody.  He truly was a legitimate guitar god, one of the first who has held that lofty reference.  Drove slow past the check in table so I could stare down some opponents.  Spotted Keck, the tournament administrator, who had roddicked two days before.  'Injuries happen' was his attitude.  He communicated the roddick to the group and got a replacement player. This is proper Isner Scoring Method ethic.  To be clear, it is not dishonorable to roddick, not usually, but there is no honor in bailing unannounced, leaving the group in a bind.  Keck would never do that.  His wrist was not healed, further damage was being avoided.  His body would heal itself, eventually.  Then, as we all know, it's something else.  A knee, a plantar fascia tendon, a back.  The tennis life is a tough life, almost never do you feel perfect.
   
     After parking and gathering needed items, bags, and water, walked up on Vito, unloading an Escalade of his tennis equipment.  A guitar god in his own right, I immediately told him of my plans.   He had destroyed me at the previous tournament with a sweet backhand, quick feet, and warrior grit.  Perhaps we could meet in the Duke division, an opportunity for revenge.  I told him this, and he knew I was coming for him.  He smiled, like he does.  But I would have to overcome Frank Friday who was in my morning group first.  Keck had called it the 'Group of Death' in communications leading up to the event.  With me, Frank, Prince Fess, and two time King James, I was somehow supposed to feel honored. 10 game mahuts against each of them to start the day.  The most games won of the 30 goes to the afternoon King group, 2nd most Prince, 3rd Duke, last Earl. The format is repeated in the afternoon to determine The Royal Court.  In all, 60 total games against 6 different players in about 6 hours.  In addition, because we are playing a defined number of games, the dreaded downtime is avoided.  I had been the Earl.  The Earl of Nantucket.  KOtC5.  It was royal and sweet, but it had been done.  I was hungry for the Duke.  I was going to have to dig to get another shot at Vito and the Duke title.  The air was heating up rapidly when Keck announced play to start.  He also encouraged the group to maintain hydration and explained why 'Mahut!' is shouted by the server to begin each mahut.
   
     Imagine my panic when, in my first mahut of the day, Frank Friday had me down 4-1, serving, up 40-30.  To lose the point would mean disaster.  This was the game after Frank had won several amazing points, punctuated by several authentic celebrations.  Frank is one of the greatest of all KOtC players.  A former Prince and a former Earl, his intensity is well known by many.  Frank Friday double faulted.  I went on to win that game and the next four to win the mahut 6-4.  One of his authentic celebrations, the one at the net with a clenched fist thrust towards my face and a long, spit producing roar, helped turn my game around.  He played King James tough, but fell.  Prince Fess then mouletted Frank, further helping me get into the Duke division for the afternoon.  Later, King James confided that one of these authentic celebrations from Frank had motivated him as well.  Frank Friday celebrates winning.  It is a very admirable trait, but can sabotage his efforts by inspiring his opponent.  He was not celebrating being in the Earl Division.  Coach Bill Vita went on to win the Earl title that afternoon, taking it from his older brother, the KOtC6 Earl.  William The Earl.  A true inspiration, a reinstitution of a tennis institution.  Trained at the Julian Kinsky School Of Tennis Instruction near Philadelphia, he had fell away from the game for a time.  His royal success was well earned.
   
     King James made it to the King division again.  He tied both King Foster and Justin Huffman and was on his way to finishing off Hunter Foster, college player and son of King Foster, when the rains came.  The dark clouds had been near.  The heat that day was heavy and fierce.  Suffocating.  In some ways the torential rain was welcome, but it required rulings from Keck, the tournament administrator, because continued play was impossible.  Huffman had a one game edge over King James when all was totalled.  A veteran of the King division, he had never broken through.  Grit pays, perseverence is rewarded, all hail King Huff!  Every game matters in the KOtC format.  Those lost games could have mattered, but they never existed.  Water is water.  The Fosters were gracious and friendly in defeat, but the elder seethed visibly as the rain drenched everything.  Keck awarded the trophy and bobblehead under an umbrella to the new, beaming King.
   
     The Prince division disintegrated due to cramping, heat exaustion, and other injuries.  Once Prince Fess took out Marty Feldman, it was done.  It went quick.  The two time Prince then sped off to play more tennis, with a royal glow.  I had been up on him 3-1 in the morning round before he changed tactics and beat me 6-4.  He was a very good player and his backhand flip, down the line, was a devestating shot.  Determined and relentless, he is a fitting Prince.  He'll be at the Fries Cup later in the summer, his company a title sponsor in the war on cancer.  Hopefully, I'll get another invite from Marty.  It was an honor to play for the winning Blowfish team.  Perhaps my 3-0 record, good behavior, and responsible social drinking will be remembered.  Marty is a busy man, I hope he doesn't forget.  His brother, King The Todd, 2-time winner of this event, must have had a hockey game or something.  His absence for the last two tournaments, KOtC's 6 and 7, is inexplicable.  Has he forgot us?  Has he abandoned the game?  Is his desire for royalty gone?  Surely, he could still compete for the King' s crown.  Inexplicable.  Keck has no answers and doesn't seem to be in contact.  His brother doesn't even know.  Maybe we'll be teammates at the Fries Cup.  King The Todd is missed.  His public will welcome him back.  They will cheer him.  He could become the first 3 time King in November, a distinction that eluded King James in KOtC7.
   
     When I walked onto the court in the afternoon for the Duke fight, the 3 other players were warming up.  Berco Neiman, the Peuvian ace who once beat Keck and had a very steady game.  Austen Holmes, a first time KOtC player with a true Kramarian game.  The old 'big' game.  Came to the net after every serve, evidently since he was 15 years old he told me during the 30 minute break that separates the morning and afternoon rounds.  From Lubbock originally, he understood air weight and winds.  In his 30s now, that's alot of rushing the net.  I was very, very impressed with his style of play.  It is rarely seen anymore.  Every serve, come in at all costs.  Also there, warming up, was Vito.  He had beaten Coach Vita, now William The Earl, in the morning.  I could not have asked for more.  I played Berco first and it was a back and forth match, his steady game and my unsteady game finishing 5-5.  He was extremely complimentary and respectful, engaging in interesting conversation on changeovers.  When I go to Peru one day I will remember his advice.  Aquas Calientes, I think.  Near the ancient Inca lands.  Austen Holmes, the Kramarian, was true to his word.  He was good at it, swooshing in to put away any weak return.  Stuck them right in the corners.  Of course, to play that kind of game takes resilience.  A Kramarian player can expect to get passed by, lobbed over, and fired at.  Persistence to the strategy requires a numb memory.  I had my share of success, especially with my serve, but he was too much and took me down 6-4.  By then we were all 50 games in, we were dragging and the dark clouds were bearing down.  While grabbing more water for my final mahut againt Vito, I still held out hope for the Duke title.  He and Berco were going long, giving me the advantage in rest and hydration.  Then, walking from the courts, Vito announced he had to go.  Unavoidable conflict with something or the other.  I was gracious, even somewhat relieved.  My body and mind were fried.  I could have played, would have fought hard, may have even beat Vito, but the Duke would elude me either way.  Keck decided, based on games won, Berco and Austen would play for the Duke.  One game in, the skies poured water.  Austen, up two games, was announced the Duke.  I really admired his game.  Duke Holmes, rushing the net since 15.
   
     Everyone left quickly when it rained. William the Earl received his trophy from a barefoot and soaked Keck.   We met at Dodies Cajun Place after.  Bobby was there too.  Surviving a heart attack, marrying off his daughter, and playing mixed doubles had him busy the previous 6 months.  He is like a tennis brother.  And a writer brother.  A mad combination.  A fighter for royalty himself, just not this time around.  King Huff was there.  He celebrated with many large beers. William the Earl got tater tots with his burger, his brother Joe wore an electric blue shirt.  He looked like he could play more.  Keck, of course, beaming because of the smoothness of the event.  Frank Friday was there too. He was disappointed, no doubt, bit jovial.  King James was there, cussing the rain.  His bid for a third crown fell just short.  He was laid back as usual, despite the disappointment.  We re-lived the points and games and mahuts.  We compared scores, we made involuntary noises of pain, we ordered multiple 'another rounds'.  Yes, Huff was tough.  Like all Kings.  Tougher than everybody this day.

Crusty Lips: Jingle Hut


Ain't no kiss.
Ain't no kiss.
Ain't no kiss with those crusty lips.

Carmex saves.
Carmex saves.
Carmex saves em from the sun rays.

Ain't no kiss.
Ain't no kiss.
Ain't no kiss with those crusty lips.


6/16/16

With Conditioning Machines

eaex8
cgdx2

.sit right down and listen up.
.it ain't the heat.
.or the ozone alerts.
.or nothing like that.
.it is for practical purposes, like all things that are worthy and unworthy.
.reason is involved.
.logical and sound.

.pools of water on the perimeter.
.spider and mosquito nests.
.the spray only eliminates the weak.
.the strong ones live on.

.the real thirsty.

.the mornings are our only refuge.
.and this is night.
.confined and controllable spaces.
.with conditioning machines.
.with music and games.
.begin with the end in mind.

.i can feel it clearly.

6/12/16

Executive Notes: #1

   
     This assignment of a watershed.  When things changed.  When there was a before and after.  Clear and distinct.  There are many.  Degrees, even.  Some minor, some major, the culmination of what we are and where we are now.  And so much more, our impact on others.  Our involvement in their wastersheds.  The majors and the minors, much of it unknown.  Random circumstances or intentional associations, controlled by some external superior power with intentions all their own?  These wastersheds are real.  Some leaky, some broken.  Most important to consider and know, but some important to forget.  The past is only a part of your life, it is less important than the future.
     Settlement is taken for granted.  Only when it is stripped is it realized.  Misinterpreted as security early on, only now is it understood as a natural longing.  It is not a crisis, it is a calm.  Once known, it becomes treasured.  Settled into middle school in Sherman, Texas in the early eighties, my elementary years had been spent with rugged boyish endeavors, mostly of the outdoor kind.  Girls were now a priority and eighth grade had brought first, second, and third loves.  So I thought.  The coming years were clear in my mind.  Take my pick, have a girl fall in love with me, then get a boat, a family, and make a life.  It was all settled.  Family, friends, the good life.  This was my pre-teen mind.
     One day my dad, Texas Instruments Ace--The Boss, came home and informed his family we were moving to Lubbock, Texas.  Evidently, the engineering wizards of TI had developed the greatest personal computer known to mankind.  The TI 99-4A.  Affordable, portable, and incedible.  This was before Dell, as Apple was in their infancy, as Microsoft was plotting their takeover.  TI, known for smarts and manufacturing sleekness, was gonna run the whole operation out of Lubbock.  The Silicon Caprock.  As we planned our move, I kept a brave face.  The truth, looking back, was confusion, depression, and an unsettled mind.  We all, both older brothers and mother, chose to welcome the adventure and new experiences.  Off we moved during the Spring Break of my 8th grade year.
     Lubbock was fine.  Inside the loop, like a suburban oasis in the West Texas desert lands.  First in an apartment, then a house on 10th street, near Slide.  Unsettled, especially when I walked into MacKenzie Jr. High.  Assigned some student guide, my first buddy.  He seemed put out and unfocused on the task at hand.  His mind seemed on summer already.  I ditched him on day 2 in favor of a solitary existence.  At least for a couple of weeks.  I was happy to see my family in the evening, the most settled time for us all.  Everything outside the house was different, all of us were weary.  We grew closer as a family, even my oldest brother moved in, attending Texas Tech University for a time.  Although oddly, very little evidence exists of his academic record at the school.  It was short lived, as was our time in Lubbock.  Only nine months total.
     Looking back, Texas Instruments had a pathetic marketing department.  My father has since told me he knew the gig was up when he asked where all these computers being made in Lubbock were going.  He found out a million units were being stored in a huge wharehouse in Abilene, Tx.  They wern't moving, but we were.  First to Midland, Tx. for 5 months, then to McKinney, Tx.  By then, I was fully aware of being unsettled.  It didn't bother me much.  I was better at it by then.  Observe and listen while unsettled, remain patient and wait for life to unfold, for others to approach, for opportunities.   Starting McKinney High in the 10th grade was a breeze.  Eased into several groups, made lifelong friends, met the girl of my dreams, went to college, married the girl of my dreams, began a career,  built a house, began a family, and settled down.  Or settled in, rather.
    It's routines now, settle in and adjust appropriately.  Test the waters.  Be mindful of the difference between settling for and settling in.  Habits are critical and should change with time.  Settle on your priorities.  I don't get restless too often, only when things are unsettled.  Faith helps, the ultimate calm and perspective.  Like a glassy pond.  Word and Spirit do their thing.  Think about the peacemakers and their fate, lift up levity to its rightful place, settle the petty scores.  Settle the big scores too.  It is worth the effort, to be content, to be satisfied, to eat our daily bread.


***presentation 1***

Tennis Is Superior To Golf.

1.  Athletic activity.
2.  Costs less.
3.  Takes less time.
4.  More Competitive.
5.  Promotes far less drinking and smoking.

Far from perfect, tennis shares some other characteristics of golf, including: wear and tear on the body, likely outbursts of vulgarities, and obsessive tendencies.  Both sports are steeped in history and have somewhat similar development timelines.  Both have exciting professional tours to humble the masses, although women's professional tennis has far exceeded the success of the professional women golfers.  The Serena effect.  Both demand etiquett and trustworthiness.  Both offer stylish attire choices, even influencing broader culture.  Golf has the slight edge in nature proximity, deal making, and corporate events.  However, on the whole, the time and costs alone are enough to make tennis a superior recreational pursuit to golf.



***presentation2***

Texican Chili


to make a good chili, you gotta start with the meat selection. shoulder roast is best, for sure, but more importantly the way you get it ground up is critical. ask the butcher for the chili meat cut and get about 3 pounds. it will be lean so that will make quite a bit. enough for six to eight.  mainly with chili, it's about the spices you don't use. many will dazzle you with concoctions of ridiculous proportions. spices of unknown orgin. strangely, always leaving out the pepper. here's the deal, all you need is a bunch of chili power and cumin, perhaps combining whole seeds and cumin powder, in a 2/1 ratio. you then have the basis of chili. salt and pepper at the very end. i've eaten horrible chili before. chili with kahlua, chili with chocolate, white chili. i've left many full bowls of chili on the table due to taste issues. the creativity comes next. tomato sauce and diced tomatoes are a given, but here's where you should take note. rotel. yes, the mexican and queso staple. it will add the proper spice to finish off the pot of texican chili. a chopped whole onion should be cooked along with the meat intitially, fresh garlic added in the latter stages. cook it long, cook it low. honestly, it should be cooled and refridgerated overnight to really taste it's true potential and experience its perfectly tender texture. serve with corn chips, raw onions, sharp chedder, and sliced avacodos. light english beer goes good. ice water too.  beans should be eaten at a seperate meal.

Already Cracked


Coming from nowhere.
Out of the black.
Surprise attack.
Surprise attack.

Left with an empty stare.
Already cracked.
Surprise attack.
Surprise attack.

Tradgedies are tragic.
Tears falling faster.
Faster and faster.
Faster and faster.

Love works like magic.
Direct from the master.
Faster and faster.
Faster and faster.

Mix up some cocktails.
Start up some tunes.
In the soundroom.
In the soundroom.

Birds land on rails.
Plug em in soon.
In the soundroom.
In the soundroom.



6/9/16

A Game Of Slush


.don't own a gun.
.hun.
.but I told my daughter to tell her boyfriend that I sleep next to a heavy metal pipe.
.just to be clear.
.had to sing him hog killing weather.
.just to be clear.
.dear.
.pick out 5 fat ones.
.the air is getting cold.
.rent some freezer space in town.
.frown.
.break away from this noise.
.see it for what it is.
.liz.
.a game of slush.
.the funds ready to wire.
.bought the hook.
.crooks.

6/5/16

High Class Dinners

GCG
D7CG

Showing up late, showing at all, walk in unison, down the hall.

Work is done through words and deeds, body and blood brings em all to their knees.

Water does its thing like its always done, flooding the world, announcing the Son.

Streets are paved with the already saved.
All day sinners eating high class dinners.
The hero don't live here anymore.


Shake it all loose give one more run, drive to the sands for some summer fun.

Shut the doors and make some noise, out of our minds with the beastie boys.

Fight for your right to get your delights, travel the world to find the light.

(chorus)

One of these nights in a purple haze, picking out tunes for the big parade.

All we'll find on either side are plastic people living plastic lives.

I like dirt, and i like mud, like to remember we're all in love.

6/4/16

Temporary Hassles


.growing old is just getting closer to living forever.  .these breakdowns and breakups don't mean nothing.  .temporary hassles and ruckuses.  .flipped on the lid.  .for really good reasons.  .but no excuse is good enough.  .excuses are pathetic anyways.  .reasons, however, they are always there.  .why in the world is right.  .goodness gracious is all to say.  .respect of time and space.  .the ways and means are mean indeed.  .stepped carefully into the future.  .awake and aware.  .compromising on the truth is unthinkable.  .ludicrois and easy.

5/30/16

Conclusion Of Thought


Religion is the conclusion of thought.

Highlighter Orange

   
     Crashing to the court Keck must have been furious.  Coach Vita and I had insisted on the 6:45 daybreak start, before the sun evaporated the mist, before the courts were dry, when the surface was at it's most slick.  Our tune up Saturday round robin was planned days before.  15 game mahuts to make up 45 total, just 15 games shy of what will be played in the upcoming King Of The Court tournament.  The 7th KOtC.  The Lion Earl Joe Vita was there too, in highlighter orange Adidas apparel.  Lenny Kravitz was the tunes.  Memories of his afroed, coed band at the Bronco Bowl came back in nostalgic waves as we listened to his riffs.  Cab Driver, Rosemary, Let Love Rule.  The reminder is always needed.  Love is the only way.  Life, as in tennis, must be loved to to be played to its potenial. Lenny can jam.  His opening act that night did not belong there.  Sean Lennon has Yoko's voice.
     We were early in our mahut when Keck hit a backhand return.  While scurrying back to the middle of the court, I hit a balls deep inside out forehand back to his backhand.  I'm sure he regrets even going for it, but his instincts were too ingrained.  Down at the time to an inferior player, he attempted to misdirect his momentum and the slippery court did it's thing.  His feet slid out from under him, his whole body suspended in the air, and he came crashing to the surface, loud and quick.  Thankfully, to prevent gruesome facial injuries, he was of enough mind to react as his hands and arms quickly broke the fall.  Immediately he got up, dusted off, checked for any blood and began nursing the right wrist.  He had the look of someone who knew, someone that felt something different, perhaps even someone that heard the unnatural pop.  Everyone is their own best Doctor, especially with the internet.  The inside out forehand had landed perfectly in the corner, accelerated by topspin and biting down severely.  I was happy to get the point, and even now I remember the crispness of the contact, the decision to misdirect made early, allowing for a full setup and attention to technique.  It was a good strategy considering the conditions, just wish Keck would have given up on that one, let it ring the fence, let the point be won by another.  Give up a winner.  His hatred of losing, even a point, is well known.  Since the injury I'm certain he's wondered 'what if' we had a more reasonable 8 o'clock start.  The 'what ifs', tourtureing his mental well being.  Duke Keck will heal, slower now that he's older, but he will be ready for King Of The Court 7.
     We finished the mahuts we could with the remaining healthy players, concluding in a 2 round modified california doubles format.  Joe the Lion Earl won despite Coach Vita's attempted calculation confusion and scoring lapses.  We all had our Zverev moments, those moments when a big point is on your racquet for an easy volly putaway and it ends up hitting the middle of the net and dribbling to your feet.  We went for winners, we hit drop shots.  Slams, double faults, aces, unforced errors, nubs, effs, down the line screamers, ridiculous angles, and Zverevs.  Liked that highlighter orange look, like a construction zone, or a life jacket.  Just what my game needs.



5/27/16

Nonsense After All


It is the same.
The space and time.
Defined again.
Validated.
Run through the muddy path.
Make it work.
Find the historical story.
These real people are real.
No deal stuck in my head.
Engine's just a bunch of junk.
The air is gone.
So are the songs.
They don't mean anything.
Nonsense after all.
Tomorrow we play.
Nothing better to do.
Fun is fun.
The draggers are hard to take.
No score is settled.
No grudge is gone.
Let the people cry it out.
Loud and bluesy.
Clean and verbed.



5/22/16

Dawns And Dusks


.the clouds were dancing.
.perfectly and chaotically.
.all the while laughing was heard.
.random and joyous.
.the day is happening.
.dawns and dusks.
.the people of this world look up.
.he will come to you.
.he will do it all.
.enjoy life like the young do.
.unashamed and bold.
.the kingdom is within you.
.seek out the peacemakers.
.they are known by their actions.
.sincerity is rare indeed.
.mostly beyond our capabilities.
.the envious cry tears of justice.
.which they know not.


5/17/16

And Why


what's left.

what does it even mean.
who are these people.
and why.
where in this place.
when does it all just stop.

what's right.

who gets to decide.
what is done in this world.
and why.
when should we leave.
where would we go.

5/14/16

Dirtbags And Winos


ink is just ink.
it meant something at some point.
but it's only ink.

the dirtbags gathered again.
at the twin valleys.
torn hands and faces.

rode off to the east.
back where the sun is early.
and the migration began.

take the old out.
replace it with something pristine.
no graffiti even.

the roman pick pocket kids.
and the same thing in Spain.
the nuns bring the good word.

dirtbags and winos.
goes hand in hand.
sleep off the pressure steamer.

an expression of some sort.
the big middle finger.
less talk is all.


5/11/16

Floods And Muds


Beyond repaired.
Like the declining body.
Soften the landing.
Go light on your feet.
Style kills.
Provided for enough.
Keeping up with this race.

Sunrise with storms leaving.
Going east after the clean sweep.
Like Bourbon Street and its morning suds.
Memories only now.
Documentation breach.

The tuxedo is out.
A spoof to spoof.
Mean green line cufflinks.
The triangle of my life.

Established and looking to the horizon.
Its been a long float.
Wild winds and storms.
The ship careening up the waves.
Crashing down hard.
Shaking the whole boat.
Sending passangers to desperate prayers.
And they are answered too.

The birds are the signal callers.
This day of song.
The thunder is gone for now.
Lightening bolts gone to Louisiana.
With the floods and muds.



5/8/16

Big Bad Wolf


Big bad wolf.  Assumptions and broad brushes. Liked the name.  Move forward and avoid the glow... improve management...flatten that cow.  Executive summaries.  More details is the details.  The return comes later...the A/V is the knife in the heart.  Awkwardness...a minor annoyance.  Listen and be heard.

5/6/16

Sweet Ole Time


am.                       d.
anytime before midnight.
g.                           am.
when your eyes are bright.
g.                            d.
under the moonbeams, my darling.
             am.
we will reunite.

call each other my baby.
laugh like we're going crazy.
just taking our sweet ole time.
just being lazy.

only time for things we enjoy.
knowing the devil's been destroyed.
his lies don't work on us.
don't worry anymore.

5/1/16

Shampoos


Conditioners all around, but no shampoos.
Sea of plastic floating in the sea.

Another small insignificant piece of trash thrown out.
Was made to be used.

Like a racecar, made to be drove.
The blind understand this clearly.

Waste is incompetent.
Trying to do too much.

Telling me who I respect.
It is not implicit.

Because of blood or family trees.
Because of some desired state.

Wishful thinking is for the fools.
And I am certainly one of those.

Visioning activities, to call out the possibilities.
Every other eye.

4/27/16

Covered Convertibles


This journey is real.
Steve Perry and his case of stage fright.
One for Merle, Bowie, and Prince.
With Nantucket worked in.
Patios, porches, and gardens
Covered convertibles everywhere.

4/24/16

Could Have


blinded by regrets.
should have.
think of the difference.
could have.
if only this or the other.
would have.
like a constant insult.
no contentment at all.
just tired and sleepy.
no real living.
only resting and avoiding.

No Fight Left


Decide, will you stay or will you go.
Brown sugar days.
And another brick in the wall.
Just leave me be.
Me and my annoyances.
Completely self absorbed with thoughts.
Visions of perfection and afternoon love.
Only visions these days.
The nights are more like it.
Sleep and quiet peace.
Temporary grace.
Driven crazy on the wireless.
Pack it up and get away.
It must be done.
Maneuver of flight.
Escape out the back.
You might like what you find.
No more irritating noises.
Or listening lapses.
The unhappiness might stop.
To love again.
Sacrificed and branded.
Low expectations and careless.
If only they knew.
This cracked and broken heart
Unattended.
The mind will eventually crack too.
And the body's slow decent.
The peeves are the final straw.
Embarrassments of the past.
Just hang it up and quit.
Liberated, finally.
That Son of a bee.
Buzzed all day long.
Tomorrow is tomorrow.
Today is its own.
Got no fight left.
Get a new one, huh?
What's all the fuss.
To the mysterious end.
Companionship and walks.
In common interest.
The word and all.
Blood all shed for us all.
The puzzle does not come together.
A canvas is not painted.
Our eyes do not see.
Our ears won't hear.
Our lying lips.
Even a whiff of the wind has no effect.
Forget that.
It will not become true.
It is true.
Short circuit for a flash.
Saw raging stars and got woozy.
Almost fled to another plane.
Deviations in decisions.
Affection is important now as well.
We can find a way.
Fade on, fade out, fade away.
Like a good song that needs ending.
Its almost all relative.
Matters of commerce continue.
Plans and projects and engagements.
Through it all, together bound.





These Words Glow


...the actions of reactions.
...bounced around weirdly.
forgiveness is the path to peace.
and actions do matter.
...only word destroys evil.
...and has.
all else seems envious and dim.
senses of dollars and cents.
...comfort and abundance.
...the ease of these days.
tolerance is the hard road.
allowing other ways.
...the theives and crooks are all around.
...they are the ones that look innocent.
pointing fingers and wagging.
throwing the word around.
...but this is light.
...and these words glow.

4/22/16

Tennis Is Peace

   
     After coming off a strong mahut against Keck, playing King James on the clay courts of Brookhaven on an early Friday morning was highly anticipated.  Not only was my tennis game under relative control, but it was my debut to the surface.  The surface of the French.  The surface of River Oaks in Houston.  I wanted to slide like Juan Monaco, dig like Novak, and click the mud off my shoes like Fed.  My invitation for an invitation to the only clay courts in Collin County was sent earlier in the week after Keck and Coach Vita were guests of the King.  Membership does have it's privileges and being a former member of the Royal Court, The Earl of KOtC5, emboldened me.  And envy overtook me.  King James accommodated graciously with an invitation.  The court was in perfect condition, with the rains of the past week captured in the mud.  A thin layer of dirt covered the base clay of the court.  Upon arrival, the King was combing the court with a contraption especially designed for the task.  Unlike the crew in Houston, we left the lines unswept.  Tight net, low 70s, little wind, water jug, large shade trees, new can, efficient warm up, the soft clay.  Brent has smooth shots, as we know, and is well practiced.  Got me running and my legs got heavy, got me thinking and I had mental breakdowns, hit my serves back for winners.  In the end, had a number higher than my most optimistic hope and a number better than the 3-17 beat down King James put on Keck two mornings prior.  21 games into our first Isner Match and I'm down 6-15.  All this recent tennis, from attending the U.S. Clay Court Championships in Houston to my continuing tennis schedule, naturally got me thinking of KOtC7 preparations.
   
     King Foster, the unexpected King, should return.  His protégée, Prince, won the same amount of games in the afternoon King division of KOtC6.  They tied 5-5 in their mahut, eliminating the first tiebreaker.  Initially, King Foster insisted the throne be given to Prince, but that idea was abandoned when Keck, the Tournament Administrator, determined that total games from the morning mahuts was the 2nd tiebreaker.  Brilliant.  Consulting the morning brackets indicated King Foster with one more game than Prince.  Every game counting is at the core of the Isner Scoring Method.  My 1-9 result against Prince in the morning mattered.  A game is a game.  For literary effect I was secretly hoping for a King Prince in KOtC6, but it was not to be.  Hopefully, Prince will be back too, after a year of Collin College training.  He is a physically gifted and talented player.  From Klien, near Houston.  Ultimately, royalty, any worthy royalty anyway, hates to lose. That will determine the fate of all players.  Not in an unhealthy way, understand, just a simmering distaste.  This hate can lead to actions that decrease the odds of losing including:  practice, training, professional instruction, rest, creative expressions, and equipment adjustments.  Can be anything, but it is clearly self motivated.  This hate can also lead to actions that increase the odds of losing including: frustration, quitting, cussing, pouting, drinking, and equipment destruction.  Self control of mind, body, and tennis spirit.  Swing to swing, point to point, game to game, mahut to mahut.  We are gathered here today to think through this thing called life.  Electric word, life, means forever, and that's a mighty long time.  Prince Mardy Feldman, brother of King The Todd, should return if his schedule allows.  He fishes in far away oceans, he drives race cars, he has people.  Duke Keck, who also serves as Tournament Administrator, will return, of course.  His recent callout to Allen Civic Leader and Tennis Ambassador, Justin Quest, for an acceptable summer date will set in motion a series of actions, culminating in the tournament and crowning of royalty.  Earl Joe Vita served his time well.  Newspaper articles and ads, Golden Circle recognition for his professional efforts, trips to New York, multiple trips to Hawaii.  He also protected a 70 year old man from a dangerous raging drunk at Tupps Brewery.  His loud and repeated verbal assaults of "sit down and shut up!" was all he needed.  Royal as ever.  His desent to the Earl after serving as the Duke was, no doubt, humbling.  But the life of an a Earl is good.  The common royal.  Like the 10 of hearts in a Royal straight flush.  He' ll be back unless unavoidable conflicts arise.
   
     The invitations will be sent in due time.  All the former Kings:  King Foster, King Stone, King The Todd, and King James.  In time for preparations, better come in shape.  Avoid the Jack Sock at any cost.  Hydrate and live simply.  Should have saw that coming.  Juan Monaco came to play in Houston.  Coach Vita noticed it after the Quarters.  Keck favored Monaco all along.  His Aggasian strategy of running the American Sock ragged in the finals paid off.  Perhaps it was only a coincidence that Brad Gilbert, former coach of Andre Aggasi, was seen with Juan Monaco during the tournament.  We can only speculate, as the busy Gilbert seemed everywhere--pictures with Bush41 in the club, at the USTA booth discussing windows of opportunity and the next great player, on TV.  Dig his hat.  He seems the modern day Bud Collins, another that has departed here.  Probably all on Merle's Silver Wings.  Merle, Bud Collins, The Artist Formerly Known As Prince, and Bowie.  To glory, because they left their glories behind.  Ahh yes, the clay got me thinking.  Tennis is peace, even when doves cry.

Soaked In Purple Rain


the diamond needle.
and the grooves.
met in a hotel lobby.
thinking through this thing called life.
and the eyes have it.
baby, you're a star.
soaked in purple rain.
and laughing.
dig, if you will, that picture.

4/18/16

Slick And Sogged


Slick and sogged.
All waterlogged.
The densest fog.
Folks ever saw'd.

4/16/16

Ain't No Charity In Tennis


...i see what i see, and immediately the information is sent, by brain transmitters, to the part of the mind that makes decisions.  This happens in an instant, especially if there is no doubt what is seen.  From there, a signal is sent to the vocal controllers and a call is made.  Quickness indicates the recognition process is working smoothly.  Upon further reflection, the serve was not only wide, it was long as well.  Ain't no charity in tennis.  Mahut!

4/11/16

Alot To Think About


These lost days and nights.
When the love line goes quiet.
When its too late for cryin'
That's alot to think about.
Alot to think about.

Saying words that hurt the heart.
Spending too much time apart.
Like we need a brand new start.
That's alot to think about.
Alot to think about.

Sleep, it don't come cheap.
Weary, tired, and beat.
She makes my life complete.
That's alot to think about.
Alot to think about.

We're diamonds in the rough.
Just shining all our love.
Just trying to stay tough.
That's alot to think about.
Alot to think about.

fcX3
g
c

4/6/16

The Don


The news boys and girls.
Predicting the future in vain.
Some green bay night.
Before the new york apple bite.
A merger of the fed up.
The acquisition to come in the fall.
Entertainment only.
For reasons believed by me.
The Don.

4/2/16

The Fooled Of April


...she's knocked her teeth clean out.
.just like me at fifteen...
...some sort of accidental slip.
.a loud rumbling noise...
...screams and wails and tears.
.the motherly instincts to get ice...
...irritation at the shocked and despondent.
.standing outside watching the flames...
...it's not your fault.
.crackling sound of tissue in the back...
...replicating the inferno.
.heartbeats and oh my Gods...
...several punch lines before it clicked.
.the mischievous win again...
...the fooled of April.

3/28/16

Forget It


...aww, jus forget it...
.what?
...forget it, nevrmind...
.really, what?
...jus forget it...
.never knew it.
...jus forget it then...
.then what?
...well, jus forget it...
.forget what?
...nothing...
.can't forget nothing, really.
...forget I spoke...
.hard to forget.
...forgive me...
.for what?
...aww, jus forget it...

Imagination Of Time


.these are only reminders.
.it doesn't happen every year.
.the celebrations and readings.
.historical and foretold.
.the places are just places.
.only noteworthy now.
.this plot or that plot.
.no pilgrimages to the holy sites.
.all sites are holy in some way.
.the virtual too.
.imagination of time.


3/26/16

Lonely Dandelion


.just a lonely dandelion.
.blowing in the wind.
.grew up quick, all alone.
.the world broke you in.

.just another love of mine.
.you don't even know.
.oh my lonely dandelion.
.you are not your own.

.cause you need me and I love you.
.yes, you need me and I love you.

.born in all your glory.
.found all you could find.
.wrote a thousand stories.
.for the other dandelions.

.meet me there someday.
.after all your crimes.
.set your heart ablaze.
my lonely dandelion.

cgx2
dcgx2


3/23/16

Punk It Up Some More


punk it up some more.
make it short and quick.
these emotions must be recognized as fake.
they can be made into something and left.
for our own benefit mainly.
like forgiveness, in a way.
a worthy selfish act.
although, One did, once, forgive unselfishly.
completely unselfishly.
to withhold forgiveness is selfish too.
more selfish, waiting for the other to ask.
but, to ask another to ask for your forgiveness seems a waste.
like a forced apology.
it's all aftermath.
the pure in heart, the peaceful, are in the Word.
translations are emerging.
far and wide.
applications and wireless.
the truth is in us.
it came from somewhere and someplace else.
in from the outside.
where we'll go again.
these murderers are choking in death.
their passion comes from fear.
life will crush them.
their end will be the pit.
ruthless and with cause.
enemies of The Lord.



3/20/16

Slightly Alone


Motivation deficient.
The particulars.
Moving like waves.
Disappearing and appearing.
In the sky to the east.

Slightly alone.
True friends and family.
No grudges of afflictions.
It was not their fault.
They are their own.

Heart attacks and cardiac arrests.
Throw them in the slammer too.
The tin tank.
With soldier guards.
With razor wire.

Bust out the folk records.
Guitar music and harmonies.
Stories of struggle.
This machine kills fascists.
And all the politics involved.




3/14/16

The Shoeshine


a7d7
e7a7
d7a7
e7d7a7

Tape the fists and spit the spit.
Getting toned and getting ripped.
Jump that rope one more time.
The way its done at the shoeshine.

Another run then lift them bells.
Legs are burning, feel like hell.
Spar with another in their prime.
The way its done at the shoeshine.

Before you step another step.
Or climb a rope in helplessness.
Call us, text us, either is fine.
The way its done at the shoeshine.

3/12/16

Gaming Room


.slow, like the minute hand.
.undeniable in movement.
.picking only the good spots.
.hardly a word spoken aloud.

.got left in the gaming room.
.where the portable bar is at.
.billiards and pinball machines.
.trophies and blue ribbons.

3/10/16

Beyond Our Sensibilities


     The final run.  Before the melting.  Without fear.  Despite the burn.  Hydrate and radiate.  Gravity engine.  Lean into the mountain.  Trust the edge.  Get warm and don't stop.  Quicker and smoother.  Quiet, long curves.  The groomed way.  Peak to peak.  Zach's Cabin views.  The stylish cat arrivers.  Private parking spots and waxings.  Hook ups.  The woods.  A plan devised and fulfilled.

     Dogs running loose in the flatlands.  Awakened rudely and abruptly.  Nasal noises and ice scrapers.  No drinks in here.  Only brew.  Where Aaron knows perseverence and what comes after.  Where Yuri sees visions of the future.  The dirtbag dunkel.  Then the bonfire dimmed for now.
   
     Cut the bullshit, God created evolution.  Beyond our sensibilities.  Like all good art.  Unanswerable riddles and a torn up song.  Independent thinking.  Roo walking on the corner of bull run.  The shy went away easy.  A silent night and the shut up blues.  Cold mountain air streaming through the windows.
   
     Popped that curve in Frisco.  Into the unknown.  The icy red cliffs.  Shelf driving at night.  The space warp and white lines.  Not feeling the road or speed.  Tracy Chapman jams getting us through.

3/5/16

The Ghostly Interpreter

   
     Trust, by it's very nature, is authentic.  It can only be felt by someone for someone or something else.  Trusting in ourself is ultimately futile.  Canes and magnifying glasses and doctor visits are a few examples of this truth.  We go to mechanics and chefs and jewelers.  Antimate and inanimate.  Everyone trusts someone or something else to do something for them at some point.  Self sufficiency is a myth.  The trust we give others is based on what they have done to be trusted.   It is not gained blindly and should not be given blindly.  If trust in someone is lost, it is through actions that trust is restored.  Intentions and promises are only a good start.  They can help lead to actions that regain trust from another, but too often the actions don't follow.  Or the motivations of the actions are not authentic and misaligned with the needs of the one giving the trust.  Authentic actions over time will produce authentic trust.  Faith is another matter.  It can only be received.  It is given by Word and The Ghostly Interpreter.


3/2/16

Up To Your Eyes


Top of the night.
The loudness is unusual and ever louder.
Cries and woes.
Whines of incredible proportions.
Whimpering slobber.
Perhaps the night will continue on.
For awhile.
Our time and understanding.
Only for a song.
A daydreaming son of a bitch.
Delusions and time.
Up to your ears in complaints and requests.
Up to your eyes in love.

2/29/16

The Inertia Switch


Watch out for the inertia switch.
Kick it loose and we are going nowhere.
The guns just kept coming.
The Russian rifles and the 9 mm pistols.
Handmade Danish shotgun, a 45, and the Smith & Wesson.
Bullets were abundant.
Cans were being destroyed.
The shooter's pose.
Hogs heard us coming and ran.
The sun goes down slow.
Every moment of light used.
Imaginary peyote juice.
When virtual is not good enough.
Vaper clouds of pancake smells.
Richard Pryor is live on the sunset strip.
Accusations of midnight nasal noises.
Don't believe it.
Hit the board or lose a point.
Got to be right on it.
No radio DJ to change the tunes.
Headbanging afternoon.
Beer marinades with salt and pepper.
The first third war.
And the cup was lost to an Italian.
Signed with permanent ink.
No erruptions of shouting and blame.
Raccoons breaking through the screens.
Removing lids.
Determined little buggers.
Crooked sleeping and tight back.
The road hours.
Radar signals and automatic roaming.
Sunflower seeds and a free soda.
Register jammed up.
Escorted out of Guthrie again.
The SUV patrol.
Crow Springs still drips.
Showed the locals the way to the teepee.
Pointed from the cliff.
Killing time before the steak place opened.
Over on the other side of town.
Relativity applies to reality too.
Contentment relies on expectations.
Of this time at this place.


2/25/16

Even The Awkwards Got Loose


     A thin spreading of responsibilities and thoughts.  Plans made long ago and expectations.  Too much tasking and prioritizing.  Art must be seen and heard.  A painting in a muesem, hearing the air.  Listening to music with eyes closed, seeing visions in the dark.  Absorbed with one thing or another, falling behind without hope of catching up.  The oh wells, whatevers, and towel throwers.  All the serious people are frowning.  Light this world!  Levitate.  It is essential for peace.  Give compliments and smile.  Flatter.  The corners are dim.  Backstage, the gathering is breaking down, looking to each other to understand.  But they don't know.  Their love is for themselves, unshared, ungiven, and unreal.  Moods are floating lightly here.  Laughs and giggles, innocent sarcasm.  Even the awkwards got loose.  Slept blankly, dreams were undreamed.  Saved the purge for the page, nothing to forget.  Early, before the noise pollution, before discussions of fairness, before illusions and delusions.  This is my dream.

2/21/16

Absolutes


     And life goes on like this everywhere.  The countless centers of the world.  Each positioning and avoiding.  All taking something for granted.  Or everything.  Appreciating nothing.  But absolutes are almost always ridiculous.  Except for true science and math and salvation, always doesn't exist.  It is a fool's word.  As is never and completely.  Purified ease.  Justified and condoned.  Accepted as real.  The hollow truths of here.


2/20/16

Glare's Getting To Me


gcdg
ccdd
gcdg
dcgg

beauty queen with those smiling lips.
been hoping for her call.
diamond bracelets and Picasso prints.
makeup covers her flaws.
bills paid and cash in her Gucci.
on a spending spree.
high heels to an Indie movie.
where we decided to meet.

ddcgx3
ccdd

shades hid my wondering eyes.
passing notes about fireflys.
kept em on while she went inside.
glare's getting to me.

perfume smells and painted toes.
brings back memories.
new shoes and the latest clothes.
has everything she needs.
smooth skin shines and radiates.
wish I could see her eyes.
tonight I'll just appreciate.
kept those shades on tight.

2/17/16

JingleHut: Cataract Girls


The cataract girls were up all night.
Worried about their future sight.

From yellow haze and darkened rooms.
To nice and bright and and flower blooms.

Saw alot with those eyes over the years.
The good and the bad both brought tears.

Greens and blues and whites like pearls.
The beautiful eyes of the cataract girls.

CF
GFC

2/13/16

Melody Confusion


Musical seclusion and new pickups.
Floated for years, got my mind made up.

Skin coat nanny with stars in her eyes.
Never heard a jam that could make her fly.

Melody confusion for a space in time.
Back to the rhythm, back to the rhyme.

Place seems hazy, got a leak in the roof.
Keep the water away from the electric juice.

Obvious intrusion of your mind and ears.
Sounds all mixed so you can hear it clear.

Acoustical theories and gravity waves.
Brain transmitters and gamma rays.

dd7aa7
gg7aa7

2/11/16

At Peace And At Calm


Those eyes can't be explained.
Just when everything was figured out.
No contact at all.

They scurry and scatter.
Overly concerned and manipulative.
As is everyone.

Trash trucks come early.
A leisurely lifestyle of laze.
While the earth is plowed under.

Lets take a step back.
Enclose the issue in a frame.
Make it so.

Heard the words long ago.
Consider the daily bread.
At peace and at calm.

The dogs in the junkyard.
Sniffing and slobbering.
Jumping up maniacally.

Perceptions are imaginary.
This is only for ourselves.
And for ourselves only.



2/9/16

New Tunes


The sleeping crew.
In for the night and day.
Rather wander around the supermarket.
Rather defy gravity.
All the mopers gather round.
Tell of your troubles.
We will nod and nod.
Affirming our understanding of your woes.
Lifting up our prayers for you.
Taking your side.
Offering only the Word.

Journey to the cliff.
Where the fault lines are squirming.
Where all eyes are squinting.
The tension is real.
The rocks are melting and filling volcanos.
Steam is rising through the earth.
Water, always the decider.
From down below.
Awake to see it all.
True dreams are actually the past.
Hypnotic and safe.
More regret than anything.
No playin' it again sam.
This band only knows new tunes.


2/5/16

Art And Significant Objects


long walk in the cold wind.
the old look of addresses and time.
unmarked roads and the scenes of the crimes.
dumpster worthy.
gleaming rows of  construction success.
from the idea to the bank to the architect to the builders to the ribbon cutters.
the rest just wander around in admiration or oblivion.
occupied by other worries and schedules.
sniff of the corporate air.
switch out the walking shoes.
professional dress required.
seats and couches crammed.
most waiting for a class.
devices and headphones and wires all around.
the learning taking place.
windowed rooms.
one with a ticker tape.
helpful and friendly.
tables set and waiting.
advice and questions.
small worlds.
nervous nerves and stuffed backpacks.
inquiring into the afternoon.
the facility tour and noticing.
halls everywhere.
time wasters and the secluded.
jamming the Steinway grand in the wide open atrium.
historical perspectives and renewed newness.
lounges and corners and rooms.
art and significant objects.
green.
downtown driving and a yellow house trimmed in green.
parking police with a polite warning.
got to back into these spaces.
checked the leaf.
went to hoochies looking for mammas.
blackened catfish and slaw.
the special.
willie's spirit caught my eyes.
baby's first songs.
wife's calm.
boondock saints and glowface gospel.
expansion plans and concepts.
waited at the trick door.
dollar lone stars always and all day and night.
ASCAP is a drag.
the jazz players play late.
technical meetings and quick visits.
shiney shoes on the ground.
the mean green army.
the place to be.


1/30/16

Off To Laramie


I'm off to Laramie.
Heading out with my babies and me.
Packing up our suitcase.
Giving up this rat race.
Drive across the western states.
It's the cowboy way.

Named for Jacques LaRamie.
Walked off and got lost in the trees.
Went trapping and never came back.
Took a turn and got off track.
Laid down now he's taking a nap.
It's the cowboy way.

We're off to Laramie.
Where outlaws met vigilantes.
Ace and Con at the bucket of blood.
Took em down and hung em up.
Old west was hard and rough.
It's the cowboy way.

When we get to Laramie.
Spend our days at the Jubilee.
Read our news in the boomerang.
Only a few even know our names.
Everything always seems the same.
It's the cowboy way.

E.A.E.A.G.C.

Nantucket Or Otherwise


Remember my belief.
All mankind is an island.
Nantucket or otherwise.
And on that island there is no solitude.
Only thoughts and considerations and peace.
Animals oblivious to our troubles.
Interaction and joy.
Then instincts kick in.
Selfishness and envy motivated by fear.
Irrational delusional peacocks.
Showing it off.

And the disruption begins.
Just stare into each other's eyes.
The islands can be seen.
They are beautiful from the water.
The beaches are soft and untouched.
The jungles are wild.
She thinks the same as you.
All mankind is an island.


1/25/16

JingleHut: Hot Cheetos


some like it spicy.
some like it cheesy.
some like hot cheetos.
some like hot cheetos.
some like it crunchy.
some like it puffy.
some like hot cheetos.
some like hot cheetos.

cg

1/22/16

Telling Of The Peace


Almost nothing is always the case.  The absolute declarations of idiots and fools.  Seriousness has its place.  To be sure.  Motivations that inspire something.  Accusations without defense.  No day in court or telling of peace.  This is a travesty.  Stirring the pot behind the scenes.  Sabotage and reputational ramifications.  A bonafide and certified snake in the grass.  A thoughtful approach.  The high road always, even if it gets personal.  Vindication is sweet and confusion is broad.  The know it all knows all.  Absolutely and without question.  Inquiries are merely a nuisance and curiosity, a sign of weakness.  Beyond frustrated.  Living in the gray.

1/20/16

Anything Understood


These are not human traditions.
No self glory and war.
No searching for truth.
It's already known.
Logicality and brilliance.
From the finest schools and brains.
Theoretically speaking, of course.
Their wisdom empty of truth.

Some mapping of the brain.
Tendencies and rationalities.
Thoughts of infants and babes.
Written, published, interviewed.
The scholars know scholars.
Geniuses know geniuses.
Provoking and determining.
False humility all the way.

Like the Laodicians.
Consumed with thankfulness.
Deaf to hollow arguments.
Not subject to requirements.
The ghost did this.
Any faith possessed.
Anything overcome.
Anything understood.

1/16/16

Spiders From Mars


those expectations of adoration.
these days of disappointment.
the measuring up of nothing.
collapsing in inglorious reality.

it is earned, not given.
the material.

the hard way no longer.
get out what you put in.
our time to live our life.
for others, start for free.

control the winds.
brotherhood and sisterhood.

for now, own the cars.
drive through the mountains.
coast downhill.
ambiguous and rocking.

ziggy stardust and heroes.
the china girl's modern love.
spiders from mars.
taking up for the long hairs.

what's all the hype.
the notifications and proclamations.
shot in the darkness.
peace in the lightness.

visions of a delighted mind.

1/14/16

The Sane


All along the wailing wall, people wailed and wailed.  The crime of all crimes.  False hope.  And it will continue and continue til we know.  Til all is understood by all.  Til then, though, overcome the irrational.  The desperate.  The sane.  Really, really, really, there ain't nothing to fear.  Nothing's gonna getcha.  Eternity's already been got.

1/10/16

The Three String


the leaf was lit up in the distance.
our parking missed the mark.
a clear room to start.
stood in the line of waves.
anchors everywhere.
the oomph girl, clara lou sheridan.
born in denton, tx in 1915.
hundred years ago.
developed in California.
pinned up globally.
the lonely g.i. daydreamers.
art covered ceilings.
memorable snapshots of musical moments.
the six string, the three string, and the one string.
Lincoln went off on his own.
the slide noise and booms.
growling into the hollow, copper cylinder.
stomping on the floor.
polishing the chops for reverend horton heat.
photographer malfunctions.
the blurry hand masterpiece.
apologies after the show.
the humbleness was almost shocking.
and a line formed to the left.

1/8/16

Honks


     Listen to the streets.  The moaning tires.  The drains and gutters.  The footsteps of nervous runners.  The clanks of gears.  Honks.  Movement and liberation.  And potholes.  Sirens on the sides.  The roadkill crew.  Bumping bass.  Heavy metal, psychedelic, spacefolk, and funk.  Jazz horns and the Bakersfield sound.  Sun roofs, moon roofs, soft roofs, and no roofs.  The dumb angry drivers.  Yellers and hollarers.  The preoccupied, driving only for themselves.  Those tailgating jacks, with the blinks and winks.  Crosses with ribbons, the tears still wet.  Listen to the streets.

1/3/16

Exponential Crowd


All the world knows.
The fake one too.
Constantly moving.
Always blue.

Crop your photos.
Wanna see your smile.
Show me your travels.
The mountain you climbed.

Digital connections.
Exponential crowd.
Maximum security.
Save it all to the cloud.

Tell me the weather.
Won't go outside.
Lemme know who calls me.
Before I pick up the line.

Make the words bigger.
Don't see that good.
My eyes are fried. you see.
It's understood.

1/1/16

Listen To Blondie


cg
fc
g
c

in with the new.
out with the charm.
some like the city.
some like the farm.

give you roses.
give you kisses too.
buy you some dresses.
and matching shoes.

who woulda thought it.
look at us now.
still got some future.
til we're laid in the ground.

Christmas colors.
and a dried up tree.
the gifts all opened.
all the food's been eat.

birth of our savior.
on that night so clear.
buries our dirt.
every single year.

resolutions.
gonna change my tune.
gonna turn a new leaf.
gonna clean my rooms.

listen to blondie.
the rapture blues.
watch her shake it, shake it, shake it.
in her high heel boots.