jpaulgorman

Just suppose. That we are in the dark. No light. Virtually blind. Hopeless. Suddenly. Illuminations burn. Ablaze. What was heard is seen. In glory. 3 6 2 5 3 Only light. Eliminates darkness. Flickers. The tune of always. Forever. Scurry up. Fight the rain and the wind. Quite dim. Still enough to see. Still some glow.

Like it when you rock. Like a earthquake and its aftershocks. --Like it when you rock. Love it when you roll. When you lose your self control. --Love it when you roll. Think I got a breakthrough. Explanation for my brain's loose screw. --Think I got a breakthrough. Guess we oughta try. Let the day go, embrace the night. --Guess we oughta try. E E CGAmEm

The shambles of my game are smoldering in a pit of glowing coals and lava.  Steam lifts as the sweats of anger evaporate.  My earlier explosion caused the blaze--that and an unforgiving opponent.  My tennis education continues. During the 11th game of the 15 game mahut, after being up 40-love in the previous service game and losing to make it 5-5, I'd decided to quit tennis.  My opponent went on to hold serve and win the 11th game, and then the abuse began.  A crash into the fench, a smash to the hardcourt, even a hard chunk across the net, konking the bench, and careening to my opponent's feet.  A classy moment.  A fit.  Like it was the racquet's fault, and further, the racquet must be punished.  In an abusive and cold manner.  Lunacy.  The eventual loss of 7-8 was tainted with shame.  Asked for forgiveness at the closing net shake.  For stealing my opponent's tennis joy.  And worse, attempting to steal his tennis...

...these are rural Parker County fish, rarely disturbed, rarely excited, just fish.  Big, well fed black bass.  Swimming around in the big Sagecrest Farms lake in schools.  Separated from the small Sagecrest Farms pond by a narrow but sturdy dam, which also serves as the only road down to the cleared out river bank area.  The Brazos waters flowing southeast to the Gulf of Mexico.  These rural Parker County fish were massacred by the Tokie Indian Tribe of North Texas.  Scalped and scaled, marinaded and grilled.  Burned on the edges to get a crispy bite.  Pictures flooded glowphones, social media went wild.  These massive bass being held up by the youngters of the tribe while the chief smiled proudly, blood on his hands.  Put em on hooks, suffocated them of water, prolly took several shots.  Those big fish, surely counting on the catch and release culture they had grown accoustomed to, were shocked.  Under the surface, far from ...

aedax2 ...dot those eyes. with green green green. ...blink and wink. a Queen needs a King. ...go with a few. pick the one you love. ...walk to the end. regardless how tough. gdx3 ad cause love will move the mountains. love is real as it can be. love's what made the valleys. and love is what set us free. ...cross those knees. class is not an option. ...modest and calm. proceed with caution. ...avoid downers. they waste your time. ...without hope. just jealous minds.

AmD7 AmEmAm Started in with the red wine and bread. Had a restless mind, alot of trash in my head. Thought I might forget you for awhile. Everywhere I look I see my babies eyes. (chorus) D7Amx3 EmD7Am Ohhhh, so bright. And I fall inside. Ohhhh, so bright. Your flame still burns. Discussions about why we do what we do. Bout why we laugh, why we cry, why we get the blues. Guess it all comes back to the order of things. Forget the cars, forget the cash, forget the diamond ring. (chorus) Tell you of sin and temptations within. Imaginations run wild and the schemes begin. The seasons continue to leave and return. Like light in the darkness, Your flame still burns.

CFGC Late seventies in Lubbock, Arabs drove prices high, started drilling holes in the land of the big red sky. Honkeytonk bouncers, where action could be found, knew all the banditos, the baddest gang around. Flew in during the night, dropped the entire load, from South American valleys, the wild columbian gold. Tamed all the roughneck oilmen, tamed the rednecks too, hippies on the caprock, nobody had a clue. F C GF FC Was a new deal. The way it made em feel. There's a party in West Texas. Booze and grass and pills. Streets were going crazy, the hook had done its thing, desperate for their fixes, the druggies changed the game. Catch Slide going north, til you hit the loop, go round and round, circle the town, speed was on the loose. Cops weren't on his mind til they showed up at the door.  A secret operation, they slammed him on the floor. Thrown to the wolves, to fulfill the drug demand, like a dust storm from the horizon, Red, he was the man.

...A permit malfuction, causing panic with the Caprock Canyon park ranger, as the trip back to the Rio Blanco was just getting started.  Chance to use the lights and siren.  Tore around the shoulder, passing several cars, skidding to a stop behind my black japanese sedan.   The glow of finishing the level 5 hike was forgotten, the refreshing ice cold coors was gone.  Interrogated of address, rationale, previous visits, and travel plans.  Passed over my ID.  Sniffed and scanned. "Do not remove the permit from the inside of the windshield until you leave the park boundry." That's what the scotch tape was for, we now figured.  We got the message, the glare of Okra The Indian from the passanger seat, the cool ease of El Camino in the back, and my crisp answers to questions, quicky convincing the officer to move along.  Nothing here.  Never took the car out of drive, had the foot on the brake. Was ready to hit it if I had to, the Canyonball R...

The competition was nothing short of a healthy hatred.  For a time, wishing woe on others.  Until the end of the game, washered out.  The rum making its way, in healthy doses, to the mind.  Finding everything funny and stumbling.  Weary from the road, but well fed on pickled okra and cheese.  With crackers.  Ritz, the good kind. The Whitmore Museum of Natural History, famous for the first land dweller, when seas dried up.  The Seymouria Baylorensis, named for the nearby town of Seymour, in the early 1900s, when they were first discovered.  250 million years ago.  70 million years before the big dinosaurs.  The T-Rex had feathers for sure.  Dr. Bakker, the famous Bavarian Paleontologist, insisted for years.  Vindication is so tasty.  Huge animals of all kinds.  Bobcats stalking turkeys and pulling them out if the sky.  The lab, where Glenn and Sandy told us of their passion for these old dirty skeletons, ...