3/30/18

The Junkyard Court: Deuce Juice


Down down down.
Love 15.
Love 30.
Love 40.

Back against the fence.
Then a gift.
15 forty.

Free swinging winner.
Cross court.
30 forty.

Need a big first serve.
Got the ace.
40 forty.

That's some deuce juice.
Get it to even.
Deuce juice.
Keep on believing.

Now its all tied.
Looked em in the eye.
Bout to let it fly.
Bout to make em cry.

Then I dropped a drop.
Like I was taught.
Heavy and dead.
Ad in.

Time to pronate.
Deep knees.
High toss.
Inside out.
Line was caught.

Winner, winner.
Taco dinner.
Dripping deuce juice.
Dripping, dripping.

3/26/18

Blinking (At The Scene)


Broke left before it broke right, then up.
The curves roll true, they are predictable.
Dawn confusion and the only known road.

Cigarette butts everywhere, stinking trash.
Very little maintenance, very little effort.
Like a rusted out truck, left to rust more.

Wild observations of literary routines.
Struck with the saving grace of words.
Thoughts revealed, a spring scrubbing.

The motivations of others explored.
The assumers and the make-believers.
Only the good are good in this sad world.

Call out the officers, sirens wailing loud.
Blinking, blinking, red, blinking, blue.
Fires could break out at any time.

Everything will be fine, no nothing.
Rattling experiences for the young.
At the scene of a report that's been filed.

3/15/18

Hours Of Hush


Don't squander the hours of hush.
When the mind wanders back.
When it has a chance to recall.
The brain will remember for you.

Scamper.

Somehow, the vague is made light.
The murmurs of our real home.
All the laughing and jovial noises.
Music is constant, like in movies.

Straggle.

Breathe and fortify the blood.
The oxygen will let it work.
Tenseness will eventually collapse.
Then, the brain is tranquil.

Scuttle.

Now the mind can understand.
It can become thoughtful.
Considerate, and lucid.
Perceiving various points of view.

Saunter.

From each angle they are studied.
Each intermingled with each other.
Creating more and more angles.
Which are sent, unconstrained.

Sashay.

Only determinations seperate.
Continuations and perpetualities.
Obsessions and involvements.
Designed to automatically repeat.

3/13/18

The Junkyard Court: A Recognizable And Distinct Gesture

   
     The bird gesture is so universal, one clear meaning worldwide.  Regardless of technique, the middle finger is known.  On the other had, the peace sign seems the same as the victory sign, or the literal #2, as if a point guard were calling out a play.  Close the peace sign fingers together, flip up the thumb and you naturally have the guns up sign.  Texas Tech, I think.  But, back to the bird for a moment, the hysteria it can cause, the rage from where it comes, the full double bird.  My father, a tough man, once endangered his family by trying to run a trucker off the road for flipping him the bird.  He wanted him to pull over and fight.  This went on for 20 miles, at 80 MPH, passenger window down, my father leaning over my mother and screaming at the alarmed trucker through her open window.  He was not pulling over for his beating from this crazed man.  My mother was surprisingly calm, my youngest older brother was ready for action, and I was observing the insanity, completely involved.  Eventually, things cooled, the trucker sped ahead, no doubt regretting shooting that particular bird, and we pulled over for gas and snacks.  "The bird must be the worst thing in the world," I thought.

    I've never given my father the bird, but it has become my favorite gesture to use for net tape points won while playing certain tennis opponents.  The 'excuse me' wave gesture always seemed insincere.  In fact, most can't even look their opponent in the eyes when performing this sham gesture.  There is no truth in it.  Also, why not the gestures when the tape shots don't dribble over?  When they are rejected back at the player who hit the shot, disappointment and woe is real and tragic.  Perhaps there is a statistic regarding % of tape shots won.  It is a skill at which certain players are likely superior due to topspin spin rates or net clearance ratios or contact point.  Or all three.  Nevertheless, it is odd.  If we really all wanna be apologizers on the court, go all in.  Double down.  Apologize for winning the racquet toss.  "Sorry, guess I'll serve."  Apologize for an ace.  "Gosh, I really smashed that, fully extended, optimum torque angle, boom.  Sorry, bet that surprised you.  Big point too.  Aww man.  Bummer."

     If tennis is a game of matches, determined by sets, determined by games, determined by points, then all points are appropriate for celebration.  This is nothing more than math, keep the hurt feelings on the other side of the fence.  Perhaps the bird, or double bird, is too provoking for effective use on the tennis court, but the birds have their place somewhere.  As with most things, selective and modest use is best.

     For Vantaggio, the peace sign seems a natural fit.  No other Tennis Apparel Company has an official gesture.  To make it a recognizable and distinct gesture needed for the differentiation, the functionality, and the persistence worthy of the Vantaggio brand, perhaps the Double V should be considered.  Double down.  The familiar peace-like gesture with the two fingers, palm facing out with the second V formed overhead by the forearm, elbow, and flexed bicep.  Think of it.  The Double V.  Marketing gold.  T-shirts, logos.  Deodorant companies everywhere would line up.  Magazine covers everywhere of winners sporting the brand through this Vantaggio gesture.  Endured.  Overcame.

     Finally, be careful to whom you shoot the bird.  Its passive acceptance should never be assumed.  And further, if you're going there, amplify it with its twin, the double bird.  Look them in the eye while gesturing.  Double down.  That's Vantaggio!

*Vantaggio Tennis Apparel Company has expressed 'concern and alarm' regarding use of any bird gesture on the tennis court.

3/9/18

Pacificos And Mojitos


Pacificos and Mojitos.
Running through my veins.
Relaxations and pontifications.
Nothing but a numbers game.

Walked right to up the edge.
Where all the scenes can be seen.
Wanna get a good long look.
Look at all the beauty queens.

Cause beauty is everywhere.
The mountains, the trees, the seas.
Reminded of the glittered nights.
All the beauty we could ever need.

Wasn't hard at all to decide.
Saw that picture of that mojito.
But I always like a Mexican beer.
So had a Mojito and a Pacifico.

Broken mint leaves and limes.
Makes all the drinks taste loud.
Like they been made so fresh.
For the shadow mafia crowd.

Pacificos and Mojitos.
Running through my veins.
Relaxations and pontifications.
Nothing but a numbers game.

ccgg
cgcc
ffcc
gfcc

3/8/18

Enjoy Our Joy


So many times we forget to smile.
Take it all for granted, no high fives.
Don't get twisted, don't get annoyed.
Honey just remember to enjoy our joy.

Think of the time wasted on worry.
Sweating details, always in a hurry.
Devil don't know, neither does Freud.
Baby all we gotta do is enjoy our joy.

Watch the morning appear if you can.
Watch the sun fall into its nightly trance.
Telling all you girlz and telling all you boyz.
If we wanna live right, lets enjoy our joy.

Glad we can walk and glad we can see.
Happy we can talk, happy we can breath.
Thankful for nerves, thankful for noise.
That's how we gonna enjoy our joy.

And when we're sad cause someone's died.
When we moan and grieve thru teary eyes.
Even when our world seems destroyed.
Never a bad time to enjoy our joy.

GCDG
CDCG
CCDD7
CGDG

3/3/18

Let The Poets Poet


Let the poets poet.
Let the knowers know it.

Full of defiance.
No self reliance.

Whiners gonna whine.
Whine all the time.

Bout being mad.
It's all gone bad.

Think bout the float.
The ride in the boat.

Over all the oceans.
All the emotions.

Let the rappers talk.
Ain't nobody's fault.

Just somebody's truth.
Just somebody's roots.

Ashes, eventually.
Warmed us, temporarily.
Lit up, desperately.
Burned, completely.

EmAmDAm

3/1/18

Defenders Of This Galaxy


/\--The strategy is clearly sufficient for the current times.  It will never be outdated, it will never fail.  Memorable, chronological, and easy. 

The brain squashed and twisted, the heart cold and tense, the eyes wet and puffy. 

/\--Stored in a box, the defenders of this galaxy, finally cornered and defeated.  High scored.  Dug in and digging more, beeps and rings and bells. 

Getting chased, getting caught, name the game.  The maze is possible, the door can be found.

/\--Creatures of the night come out, crawl through the brush, tiptoe across the clearing.  Life awaits, blood runs warm, thoughts activated and loose. 

Truth is rational. 
Truth is reasonable. 
Truth is rare. 

/\--Minds are not right, this place is unsettled, all voices won't be heard today.

The Long Yawns


A whirling beginning, loud and ambitious.

Let the relaxations begin.  The long yawns and wide stretches.  Groovy music, retro rap and red dirt alternating on random play.

Coughs and noises, sounds heard nearer the stage.  Up close, to see better, to slam dance, to nod and bop. 

Obvious declarations of woe and discontent, politics just below the surface, the guns put away, but close. 

Smoke the ribs slow or fast, just make sure they're done.  Never undercook swine, it will roil the stomach, it will toil the guts.  Get the coals hot, the heat will kill the poison. 

Machines break, and good mechanics are hard to find.

The Cuckoo's Nest

  The loopy, the droopy, the sad, the mad.   The unfortunate brains, stained and in flames.   With no hope, just mope, no laugh at a good jo...