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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Slick And Sogged

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

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!

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.