jpaulgorman

Religion is the conclusion of thought.

         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.   ...

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.

.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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.