Flickers

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.

Aftershocks

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

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 glory.

Good mahut for me really, a better result than the previous week, where my pathetic mental game helped produce a 2-8 loss.  Summed up in this note describing the mahut...

     The humbling began early, my opponent taking advantage of my chronic mental weakness.  His wounded shoulder in my mind.  Sympathy is such a pathetic and useless emotion in sports.  It can motivate those receiving it unwantingly.  And so it did, 8-2.  Sure, serves came to me with no pop, but the spins were wild, my feet were bumbling, my strokes were incomplete, my tennis anger turned into despair, then defeat.  My opponent taught me a lesson today.  I will take note, I will learn from it.  Seeing him and his red brake covers, hearing the roar of his exhaust, squinting at the shine of his convertible camero, I could only marvel.  I could only wonder.  Has anyone actually seen this MRI indicating a torn rotater cuff?.  Doctor priviledge, I guess, but think of it.  Brilliant.  Surely not, that would be too brilliant.  To fake an injury to ruin the mental game of your opponents.  I will learn from this, yes, I will learn from this mahut.  Mahut!

Physically, everything is good, despite the extra few lbs being lugged around.  Joints, muscles, tendons, ligaments, and back.  The eyes are weakening and the glasses fog, but still strong on the court, the tennis elbow of two years ago defeated.  Plantar fascia troubles no longer.  The mental weakness, however, can lead to a motivational crisis.  And this is where I stood in the 12th and 13th games of my morning's crumbling mahut.  Quit tennis until the Thursday morning Houston mahut, traditionally played before attending the day session of the U.S. Clay Court Championships.  A three week layoff would do me well I thought, all the while aimlessly firing forehands and backhands out, in the net, to the fences.  At least I wasn't screaming profanities and abusing my racquet.....any longer.

Came back and won a couple, but only after ruining the tennis peace of the entire complex.  The Indians were polite, as always.  Maybe it was Green Day, the morning's musical selection.  Perhaps punk rock should be for other venues.  But the morning was jamming, til the emotions in my mind let me down.  The quitting idea has already been abandoned, it is rarely the best option.  Perhaps prayer, yes, prayer.  Prayer is always the answer.  God's Will.  Amen.  Mahut!

Put Em On Hooks

...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 the ability of the Tokies to see, meetings were called.  The elders spoke.  The lazy catfish no-showed, of course.  Even the minnows sent representatives.  A few had been abducted.  The Tokie chief ate one raw.  Evidently, he was making good on a wager of some sort.  Had to do with push-ups, both girl children able to do twice as many and even the small boy doing many more.  The young, always in the process of growing and maturing.  The old are different.  The elder fish called for level 3 caution.  The dumb fish got hooked regardless.  The cocky.  The desperate...

Dot Those Eyes, Cross Those Knees

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.

Your Flame Still Burns

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.

Hippies On The Caprock

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 colombian 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.

Canyonball Run

...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 Run was on!...

Land Dweller

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, of how it took 2 hours to chip and clean an inch long piece of ancient bone.  The puzzle of the structure.  A fine museum.  They knew of Heard in McKinney.  Legitimate.  Even a replica of the first creature to hear sound, the Diadectus.  What did noise sound like before hearing?  The forest knows.

The ribs are ready.  Slaw and bread.  Everything is green in West Texas.  The early heat growing the grass in late winter.  The cattle will be plump, but the wildfires could be bad.

The Money Tree

In space it must be quiet.
Silence we've never not heard.
Eternal empty hollowness.
Nothing filling the space.
Blank.
Blank.
Blank.
Answers to questions of the day.
The puzzle is always taking form.
Billions of eyes continue the search.
Soundwaves of mute.
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
Points of view and scripts.
Intellectuals cannot be understood.
They are well known to be wrong.
Common fools in the end.
Echo.
Echo.
Echo.
Bribery will not work anymore.
These scoundrels and thieves.
Innocent palms were nailed.
To the money tree.
Greed.
Greed.
Greed.
This prizefight is full of action.
Body punches and hooks.
Jabs connecting with iron chins.
Spit buckets and broken noses.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Rumble on, rumble on.

Supernatural Elements

To the end of the age.
Teaching, not judging.
Not commanding.
That has already been done.

And go it is.
To make, create.
For no selfish reason.
As best as possible.

No power, just knowledge.
Simple logic.
With supernatural elements.

Articulation of some sort.
About love and how faith is made.
With the participation of God.

At Sicily's the bread keeps coming.
Your wine is free.
The body keeps going.
Until blood is cheap.

Individuals and associations.
Get together to protest lies.
Anything other than the truth.
Regardless of what is lit up.
Despite the observations.

Just A Bust

No relevancy and time for a walk.
The outsiders don't understand.
Where the living is good and easy.
Boxes stacked on boxes.
No keys fit the locks.
Numbered and labeled.
Jarred and stashed on the shelf.
Made to wait and waste time.
As glory gets ever closer.
Through the best and worst.
Towards the daylight of the gate.
For a long time.
No busting out.
Just a bust.

Live Forgiven

Determination and all its flaws.
The chant of the infected......

Control the scene completely.
The envisioning involved......

Imagining all sorts of things.
The blanks have been filled......

In with the water and faith.
When the spirit arrives......

When the Word comes alive.
And the Truth is sweet......

Like candy or fruit or jelly.
The Light has set you free......

No expectations are attached.
Live forgiven......

Happened a long time ago.
Determined and done......

Gonzo Birmingham 4

"Our Gals Are The Best Gals"
by jpg

The reports from Birmingham kept arriving.  Glowing and descriptive, the styles distinctive, the words sparse, as requested.  Only the words that mattered:  Blue Monkey at Nine, Bucket, Veljovic, J Clyde, The Magic City, A 1000 dying suns, Delaney on the mind.  Incidents and no accidents, glaring and demanding victory.  Americans, the Swiss killers.  Alabama Shirly was right.  Everything was fine.  Documented and recorded, accessible digitally forever.  Memories are obsolete.   Making experiences is the modern day making memories.  Do it.  Go.  This is our time.  Houston loomed, a Super time for GaGa to fly, followed by red, white, and blue drones.  A pledge to the flag and a dive.  Piano song showed them all.  Women do rule.  Red clay ahead, River Oaks and the fashion shows.  Feliciano Lopez groupies and discussions with Brad Gilbert.  He was right about Fed.  We were wrong about Sock.  Only CB can save his career, but he would never sign the contract.  If Sock only knew.  He is trapped by the suits.  The guitar players must go to the north where Hobos are needed.  To play the festivals and protests of the city.  The power of the woman is the truest truth of this world.  Like Serena and Venus, the sisterhood is unbreakable.  Collect at the North End of Erwin Park.  Our gals are the best gals.  CB, T-Top, peoplesDuke.  The women of our lives.  We have come to understand, our natures know, and our natures provide.  The Pats, for sure.  For obvious reasons, over time, whatever it takes.

A Thousand Cigarette Butts

Napoleon was a creep.  The power grubber of barbaric Europe.  The civilized moved to Texas.  Back when the cattle roamed back and forth across the Rio Grande.  Like Lonesome Dove.  Visions of McMurtry, our finest writer.  On his terms of endearment and his last picture show.  Duane's depressed. Rhino wars.  The Archer City book man.  Gone hollywood, gone on the road, gone back.  Live and let live, and write it down.  It is some kind of life.  A future, perhaps.

Yes, Napoleon was a creep.  Envied by all the creeps in history, evidently.  Admired for this ridiculous trait.  Hysterics of the sore kind.  Bitterness and snarks.  The boots will snuff em out.  Like a thousand cigarette butts.  Common litter is all.  Your mess is your own mess.  The world needs light, and the world has light.  Good is better than bad.  Happy is better than sad.  The creeps should be drowned, figuratively.  Drowned out and called out.  For abuses to others.  For interrupting the calm and the peace.  Music can exist, and cure, anyway.  Beyond this fight.  Smells like teen spirit for sure, when applied expectations were smashed.  Whatever, nevermind does mean everything.  The importance of every soul.  Keep looking forward my loves, the future goes forever.

Metal Nation (Crazy In New Orleans)

-That ole nothing feeling.  No good or bad or otherwise.

-Lord knows you're up and with it.  Caught my look into your eyes.

-Bring back the Commonwealth. We'll invite y'all to apply.

-Keep out the snakes and suckers.  Might just be you and I.

Wanna hear about your dreams.
Aw yeah, tell me more, tell me more.
Its all gone crazy in New Orleans.
Slipped out the back room door.

-So drive on my outter space friends.  See all the rock formations.

-Point west for the big picture show.  Catch it on the TV station.

-Blow east for wisdom and tricked up zen.  In touch with all creation.

-Go north and know the rusted past that built this metal nation.

Wanna hear about your dreams.
Aw yeah, tell me more, tell me more.
Its all gone crazy in New Orleans.
Slipped out the back room door.

cg
dcg

cg
amg

Gonzo Birmingham 3

"That Dog Bites"
by peoplesDuke

T-Top almost whipped a street guitarist's ass for calling him an ass-hole.  For taking a pic of his Husky who was licking his hand.  The dude says "watch out, that dog bites!"  T-Top spoke to the chic on the ground next to the Siberian Husky, the petting approved and implied consent.  The Husky had beautiful blue eyes, the girl had a brown hue all round her.  The clothes, the hair/eyes, the imagined smell.  The entitled 6th St.-type millennial never took his finger off the pick.  He sat on top of a trash bin kept plucking the E string nervously.  T-Top moved aggressively with a clenched fist.  It went from 0 to 60 fast.  Immediately we realized it was not worth it.  We headed down the hill to our hotel.  He called us "Yuppies" when we were 20 ft. away.  We laughed.


"Blue Monkey at 9"
by CB

After the commanding Singles performance of Sock and Isner, confidence levels were high across the board at Legacy arena.  Day 2 doubles, flag ceremonies, team introductions and respect to ball boys ans girls, and of course, the officiating crew.  T-Top shouts at perfect 15 feet away volume "we love you Marijana".  The beautiful Serbian tennis chair umpire, Marijana Veljovic, turns slowly to look at the Texas trio.  Her confidence level kicked up a notch, similar to Sock's second serve.  The Americans showed their colors and finished strong in the 3rd set.  Tennis was done for the Texas trio, and when the stunning Serb walked by a clear message was sent.  "We still love you Marijana, Blue Monkey at 9".


"Hopp Suisse, Seeing Red and I Need More Cowbell"
by peoplesDuke

Now at 13th & Cobb, the cobblestone street lit with 100 year old gas lanterns.  J. Clyde and the famous sauerkraut balls.  "Best I've ever had," T-Top plainly stated.  Over to the Blue Monkey.  The lounge dimly lit.  British Frankie pouring cocktails and Jess interacting with the regulars. Intimate.

Gonzo Birmingham 2

"Delaney on the Mind"
by T-Top

Tracking through the deep south with the hint of andouille sausage, pimento cheese, and local honey seeping from our pores, we are 10 miles outside of Birmingham, AL. headed to the civil rights museum for some historical perspective ...antebellum homes, stars, bars, and pick up trucks ...the Alabama hot biscuit still on our minds.

"Bucket"
by CB

Birmingham, the nucleus for race relations on Redneck Island Season 3. Scattered, capped, gravy on the side.  Tennis and more tennis with Delaney itching my mind and other parts.  Black market karaoke with no one to sing.  Executive orders by accused undercover racist.  Our time has come and gone, the dream of unification stays real but seems distant.

"Revolution & Reconciliation"
by peoplesDuke

Just under the surface of 21st century life, the City of Birmingham's past is viewed with an intense, unforgiving microscope.  The prayer marchers gathered near a firehouse downtown.  Four motorcycle cops waiting with flashing lights, silent, helmets with tinted visors and bodies covered uniformly, no skin showing, gloves over hands.  What to eat?  T-Top never tried moo-shoo pork and Yen's is across the street. Tennis at 2. Delaware plates at the Vulcan monument.  The Roman god of fire with an iron hammer in hand watching, protecting the "magic city".

Act Like A Rebel

...feel like a dweller, act like a rebel...
.all the while knowing everything's fine.
...feel like a loner, act like a stoner...
.keeping busy and gazing to the sky.

...feel like a downer, can't be a frowner...
.natural born skeptic, gonna give it a try.
...feel like maybe trusting, haven't yet
 rusted...
.life is to live, so live it on the fly.

...feel understated, act motivated...
.paid a wage to make it all seem alright.
...feeling really lucky, life seems really lovely...
.falling asleep with a clear and lit up mind.

gdcg
ddcg

Gonzo Birmingham 1

"Disguted & Embarrassed"
by peoplesDuke

ATM incident in E. TX., 2 wheels off the ground in Louisiana, listening to ABBA whilst weaving through the endless caravan of 18 wheelers. Nightfall has come and the quiet whir of the road resonates up through the "may-pop" tires. 63k miles on the Elantra and no recollection by the JBK that the tires have been replaced.

Will we get there...
Transaction not authorized. $200 requested, $0 dispensed. Alabama Shirley guaranteed late arrival. Mary, Jenny, Steffi, et. al have settled in for the night. T-Top, peoplesDuke, and "CB" ChillyBilly have taken flight. Evenly spaced red lights mesmerize, hypnotize, and guide by soft light. Johnny & June sing along the way "I'm going to Jackson"  blares.

"Ghosts of Vicksburg"
by CB

Mighty Miss the powerful river in our rear view. The ghosts of Vicksburg haunt us.  The stars, the sky, the north, and the south mix in the air we breathe as motorhead drowns the calling from the souls reaching out from nearby rolling hills.

"Chunky Mississippi"
by CB

Time has slowed... Dixies midnight runners can't run fast enough.  Alabama Shirley is expecting us. Red skys at night like a soft glow of 1000 dying suns.

Made To Create

made to create.
in the image.
make something.
love included.

the emotions of your life.
creeping up like a trader joe.
awareness of the glow kind.
existing for reasons only.
clear priorities and paths.
relationships on the side.

the old are cured of it.
irrational craziness of desire.
with its calculations and schemes.

hit with a bored board.
and blood has been drawn.

no wasting is allowed.
time is too valuable.
and its value increases over time.
no one is left with any.
it cannot be inherited.
it can only be used.

start out with a conceptual picture.
begin with the end in mind.
then create it.

T-Top

Look, here he comes with his heavy metal songs, its T-Top.
Blarring big and loud beaming big and proud, that's T-Top.

Got a red 280 Z from the last century, its got T-Tops.
Now he has 5 gears turning back the years, he's T-Top.

Motor runs just fine still gets off the line, sweet T-Tops.
Cats all gather round with their low purrrring sounds, round T-Top.

Nice bucket seats with your butt right on the streets, aww T-Top.
Its red just like his head some serious 80s cred, its T-Top.

Look, there he goes nobody really knows what its like to be T-Top.
Sure got a nice ride visions from days gone by, ole T-Top.

EAE

All Seasons End

EmAmEmD7
EmAm-D7AmEmx2

the ache just aches.  too much pain to vomit.  dull and escalating.  all has been tried.

fits and screams, vulgarities and silence.  nothing will help.  the woe is real.  Such a petty thing.

fandom and it's inevitable false hope.  the party ends quick, left with crumbs and dishes.  run around the corner, make a drop.  take the long road to nowhere.

through the fog and January rain.  inches matter and instant replay don't lie.  historic pass for 35 yards.  and the kick slipped through.

the depression was striking and clear.  this was not the blues, nothing that a tune could cure.  tried it all.  three threes in a row.

laid flat on the back.  weight training, hot tub, and 35 huge breaths of menthol-laiden steam.  wore all black.  humor is not funny, anger isn't working.

distractions perhaps, TV and glow.  irritable and unpredictable, poor dogs.  Pete Delkus has a new hair color as he tracks the tornadoes in the area.  we should skip the sportscast.

put the radar on the screen.  chin up my cowboy brothers and sisters, heaven is still badass.  this sweet tooth is only a trap.  medicine, of the drowsy kind.

wonder of MLK's favorite team.  he understood the weakness of us all, the sin we can't overcome ourselves.  regardless of our vows, despite our commitments.  our dedication is worthless, our hope is misplaced.

failure is a gift, a sting that burns.  the embers can become flames again.  but the air is polluted for now, just smoke and ash.  our shoulders slump, our necks tilt forward.

all seasons end.

Only A Whistle Brings Peace

right there, on the line.
dig in, get ready to go.

hold steady, don't flinch.

look for the clues and know the score.
the bandits are winning.

they must be defeated with a final smash.

the grass will fly, the dirt will spew.
a scream begins the pursuit.

grunts and groans, cries and moans.

fix the eyes and ignore the sounds.
do not stop.

only a whistle brings peace.

To Strut And Sneer

...the towels have been thrown...
only the vain fit in here

...set the bar high...

like they were something
...favors can be done...

we might let you play later

...keep the words to a minimum...
drunk on their equipment

...playing old music...

the coolest ever
...Albert King...

the young never heard of him

...those are low down blues...
like he lived

...only replicas and phoneys...

three hours to act like a star
...to strut and sneer...

Lame

...not even the great charlie rose can keep john kerry from boring me to death.  never has nothing been accomplished so blandly.  world, america is not that lame...

The Light Lobby

gcgd7

.try the wastelands.

.they go on forever.
.frozen over time.
.melting away.

.mudslides coming quick.

.these snakes that cling.
.the swamp is dry.
.down the drain.

.the Russians are coming.

.they are already here.
.some are brothers.
.some are sisters.

.this is clouding the truth.

.think of what's to come.
.the transparency of business.
.applied to institutions.

.the Light lobby.

.there is a reason for the sun.
.cash gets the cash.
.our eyes will see.

.already the defense is beginning.

.deflect and deny.
.diminish and condescend.
.collect the dimes.

.the dirty double down.

.twice the price.
.summits need speakers.
.with good jokes.

Forever I Said I Do

gEmdgx2
EmAmdgx2

Years ago we had a wedding show.
And here is where we are.
Glad you stayed, never went away.
Never broke my loving heart.
Now we see it was meant to be.
We're almost to the line.
The one you cross when pride is lost.
And everything seems fine.

Little girls with little curls.
They're almost grown up now.
Watch em walk, hear em talk.
They got it figured out.
So they think but they're on the brink.
Of really living life.
All the flash and all the trash.
Learning on the fly.

As for us, we'll fight the rust.
And swim out to the deep.
Better together in any weather.
The storms will never sleep.
All that night I held you tight.
Told you I'd be true.
Here we are and I'm true so far.
Forever I said I do.

Inconsequentials

All the senses have been explained.  

Only ways to experience anything. 

The sixth, rebalancing it all. 

Relationships also, feelings inspired by others.  

The many forms of love, the tolerance of hate.  

Revolution.  

Prophetic observations, to pass the time.  

Wonderment of the future.  

Utopia and all its glory.  

The hope of many.  

The inconsequentials and quibblers, just playing around.  

Excitement and challenges, making notes.  

Reminders of declines and nostalgic jamborees.
Taking the high road, where the cliffs are steeper and the folks just keep going, never stopping to whine, only to help.  

Resting regularly and remembering dreams.  

Pocketbooks, tight and twisting.  

The blues, hanging around somewhere.  

Don't know where now, but they're around.  

Walking and wandering unknown places, eating and drinking with the locals.  

These parties and talkers, behind the scenes.  

Broken and scared, with panic attacks and shakes.

The Word is heard.

Some perception of someone or some wink from a stranger.  

Passing time, collecting the memories, moving along.

Tapping For The Money

Silent work.
The only real work done.
Meticulous and proper.
Tapping notes.
Jazz and vaudeville.
Tapping for the money.
Hearing nothing and everything.
Like Miles might say.
Understand the surroundings.
And your common traits.
Contentment and its safety.
Recklessness has a bleak future.
Lose it all.
And all of something is something.
Be an old timer.
On your own time.

The Dizziness Is Normal

In the early years of your life, when you worked and worked til the very end.  When you felt important and noticed.  When you struted.  Alarmed you were, to be floated away, to be sent off on a makeshift raft.  Alone, out to the deep seas where the moonlight reflection never ends.  Like the Light itself.  The beginning and the end.

The world is full of intelligent words thought up by ignorant minds.  Masking the idiocy, condemning disent.  Rationality of a perception.  Nothing is found, only defended and debated.  Truth, as we know, is not in us.  Only mathematics, microscopes, and telescopes keep us anywhere near the truth.  Then our theories are made, usually to justify a conclusion.  And some come to pass, some are, in fact, validated.  Absolutely.  However, the list of theories and hypothesis that don't come about, that are wrong, that are invalidated, is a list with no end.

The rotations continue.  The perfect rhythm of our space travel.  Like we're on the end of a string being swung around, suspended forever.  The sun has some kinda pull!  Like a one man band, playing all the intruments, keeping perfect time while infinity waits.  The effort involved is only temporary.  Hold on, the sun will not lose its grip.  The dizziness is normal.

Maintain The Brain

Then the brain gets its oxygen.
And the thinking begins.
But no deciding is done.
Until the mind is tired.
Worn from seeing the angles.
Beat from the hypotheticals.
Routed by what if scenarios.
No decisions could be decided.
Conclusions could be concluded.
Concluding that nothing be decided.

For now.

Hierarchical needs arise.
Becoming the priority thought.
Hunger and desire.
Scheming to satisfy.
Frustration unavoidable and looming.
Literal use can maintain the brain.
Activities of concentration.
Intentional calming techniques.
Collaborations and relationship curiosities.
Your time directed by the Light.

Crash Tester BMXers

Buckskinny boots.
To walk the moon.
China dances with fire.
Attitude of the defeated.
Cheer it up.
Loosen the vice.
Talk of what is unimaginable.
And imagine it.
Space is there.
To be free.
To think a new thought.
To break it.
Then create it.

Crash Tester BMXers.
We ride!
Odd and peculiar.
The renaissance is near.
Trending in our minds.
What's cool is cool.
What's hot is hot.
What's lame is lame.
Any way we slice it.
Another day to enjoy.
And to endure.

Cinnamon frosts the air.
Breathe it deep in your lungs.
Come near the flames.
Bring scarves and games.
Look past the glow.

Chirps And Chirps

edge of day,
spinning always.

brightening slowly,
same pace as time.

the birds know,
chirps and chirps.

equal time,
fairness of vanity.

constant opportunity,
look to others.

become nothing,
as intended.

Evening Song

These eyes, looking to you, wondering and happy.
No future to worry through, no expectations.
Appreciating the reality of it all.
The time passed and the current distractors.
Only night brings peace, resting and sleeping help the world exist.
Memorized and delivered, ready for the challenge, determined to follow through.
Nothing will stop her now.
Or nobody.
Tell them all about it, lightly embellishing the possibilities.
Full of hope, full of excitement.
An afternoon discussion, an evening song.

Gang Of Gagglers

Only a madman would remain.
Gang of gagglers and stragglers.

Carry a switchblade if you need to.
Always watch your back girls.

The liars will seek the vulnerable.
Naive and hoping it all turns out.

Lacking control and searching.
Seeds of resentment planted again.

Shading the years of the future.
Should find a Dr. to tell me the truth.
Tell me what to do.

The barrio was cold and windy.
Clean form and bouncing feet.

Scroll The Screen

.a distant hope.
.reminders always.
.groveling meekly.
.burned again.
.losing track of your mind.
.wasting time.

.these are days for readers.
.page to page.
.scroll the screen.
.make the fountains flow.
.the fruit will be sweet.
.tasty and abundant.

.the scurried and frivolous.
.anxiety of frowns.
.tight faces.
.with a psychedelic sidekick.
.to loosen the mood.
.and laugh a little.

Radiator Blues

...brake pads and menthols.

...been driving way too loose.

...two hours was what you thought.

...then the radiator blues.

...cause that's the way it goes.

...here's the honest truth.

...should buy Japanese.

...won't get radiator blues.

...here's a perfect example.
...for some reason i bought a dodge.
...every automatic window broke.
...that junk was always in the garage.

...but when I buy a Toyota.
...or when I buy Nissan.
...never have to mess with any of that.
...I've learned some hard lessons.

...one thing you should know.
...one thing never to forget.
...if you buy a dodge.
...you'll live with great regret.

...listen for any rattling sounds.
...look for other clues.
...don't wanna leave the new car lot.
...with the radiator blues.

d.
c.
g.
cdg.

When The Moon Takes The Day

ggcd7

The sleepies got a hold of em.

Just fell down and slept.

Need to get their hair redone.

To get the proper mindset.

Eyes, they're open wide.
Seeing everything they see.
Filling in the blanks.
Like a movie on the screen.

(chorus)
All around the world.

The whole human race.

When the sun lights the night.
d7.                                           g

When the moon takes the day.

The tension will usually bust.

Fingers point and blame.

Resentment is tough to forget.

Someday they'll feel the same.

(chorus)

Forgiveness can be described.

Free willing minds can choose.

Perhaps we'll live peacefully.

We got nothing to lose.

(chorus)x2

Aghast

The sad minds of sore losers.
When justice must be done.
Because it just can't be.
The thought of it appalling.
Acceptance unimaginable.
Then the superiority.
The undefeatable case.
Dictated, without rebutal.
The horribleness of it.
Aghast.
Peace is not involved.
Only droning on and on.

Recipes

.a girl that gives out recipes. .one that holds on. .shakes out your shakes. .if need be. .sleeps close at night. .happily along. .ready for any road. .jump a curb and hit the juice. .leave the pavement behind. .on to the big skys. .where earth has scars. .a place to bust through and seep out. .ooze like molten lava. .slowly and without regard. .engulfing and commanding respect. .thankful love. .wanted or not. .accepted or rejected. .either way.
 

The Whole Rodeo

Suddenly, the bottom drops.
For all the reasons known.
But it is now, not then.
And now is the only way to really see.
This isn't visions of the future.
Or vivid memories of the past.
Decisions must be made.
It is unavoidable.
Mindset must be had.
Even out of your mind is a mindset.
The brain will not allow a shutdown.
It owns the whole rodeo.
The subconscious and conscious.
The awake and asleep.
The daydreams and nightmares.
Use your mind, it is using you.
Fill it with Love.
Jam it with Word.
Click on the Light.
The Way found you.
Got some good good news.
That's the Truth.

Relax Room

The relax room.
Full of jazz and wine.
Only the freshest allowed.
The working it girls.
Working it.
While the band is on another break.

The Pace Of Bums

perhaps some time on a mountain, solitude finally.
quiet and peaceful, only nature noises and smells.
alone to breathe and moan.
to help the heart be lit again.
blazing for love and excitement.
or maybe on a beach.
sweet, salty air, heavy with chilling.
the pace of bums.
high tides and afternoon rest.
coastal night walks, with the moon following.
don't know what to do.
let the dreams decide, I suppose.

Executive Notes #5

...Trust...

*56 % didn't trust either candidate.  Rasmussen.

*Media down from 55 in 1999 to 32 in 2016.  Gallup.

*Congress.  41 in 86 to 9.  Gallup.

What to do?...avoid.bite your lip.

...got to bring the people back together.
 How?  Conversational Intelligence is the power to elevate our collective intelligence.***

NY Times columnist Wesley Morris....

The term has become the sad equivalent of the jolly drinking axiom: It’s always national-conversation time somewhere. Whenever the mood around an issue ought to change — guns, policing, marriage, the Oscars — somebody will say we need to talk about it. We should be sitting around and figuring this thing out. We need to have “real,” “substantive,” “difficult” exchanges — about our personal biases, about our bad policies — that reach far and go deep. “It’s time for a national conversation” about mental health, retirement savings, drones.

...national conversation.....to an intelligent national conversation.

Double click exercise.  An Intelligent National Conversation.

7 vital conversations***

1*Co-Creating.  Be inclusive.  Exclusive to inclusive.
2*Humanizing.  Be appreciative.  Judging to appreciating.
3*Aspiring.  Be aspirational.  Limiting to expanding.
4*Navigating.  Be trusted and collaborative.  Withholding to sharing.
5*Generating.   Be experimental.  Having all the answers to discovering the new.
6*Expressing.  Be influential.  Dictating to developing.
7*Synchronizing.  Be enterprise.  Compliance to celebration.

***from the book Conversational Intelligence, by Judith E. Glaser

Intellectual Resistance

Acceptance is only an emotion.
It can be intellectually rejected.
It can be refused.
Easily, along with other emotions.
Tougher, when acceptance is felt.
We'll all see.
Business will go on.
Boats will float the oceans and seas.
Lights will be turned on.
The glowhackers will reboot.
Men and women and in betweens.
Looking for kicks.
Listen for the Words of the day.
Mixed with the la la las.
Surrounded by string music.
And low booming drums.
Eratic, and definitely not, static.
And ending abruptly, if need be.

Feel the Spirit.
The Spirit feels you.
The earth is full of its fragrances.
Rising into it's atmosphere.
Unable to be held prisoner.
Released from the surface and gone.
Just now we are spinning into a new day.
The rotation continues and time awareness returns.
Surely the blind are distracted by beauty too.
No doubt the deaf can hum a tune.

Accept or not accept.
Trick your own mind.
It can be done.
Attach the cause to an emotion.
Then, and only then, convince yourself.
Only a closed mind can trick itself.
But closed minds are dumb minds.
And the intellectual becomes sad.
Because of their own hypocricy.
And the intellectual becomes mad.
At themselves really.
Which leads the intellectual to depression.
The soul and the dark nights.
It is hard to open a closed mind.
When the intellectual finally accepts.
The burden is gone.

And actual intellectual resistance can begin.

The Landslide

In huge globs it keeps sliding.
Seperated from the mountain.
Unknown and dangerous.
Unsettling and unexpected.
The shocked stand there.
Insistent, even, that its not real.
Sobered and ignored.
Determining that everyone is stupid.
This is reality.
The ones that knew all along are tired.
But calm.
The only thing left for the disbelieving is anger, depression, then acceptance.
The full range.
Mud will continue to fall for days.
Then it will stop.
And the landslide will be over.

Daybreak Is Daybreak

.so so relative.
.this time conception.
.and the prisoners involved.
.it is continuous and true.
.always there.
.never able to be removed.
.therefore.
.time becomes a part of our culture.
.unable to be commoditized.
.only lived.
.only experienced.
.only enjoyed.
.only filled.
.only used.
.only endured.
.until time is gone.
.and timelessness begins.
.when time is forgotten we are close.
.close to our eternal nature.
.the brain brings it back.
.it cannot understand.
.it must be occupied.
.and it is close to our corrupted heart.
.so we play tennis at daybreak.
.savings time ridiculousness is irrlevant.
.daybreak is daybreak.
.don't be late.

Dignified And Such

Huge eyes, rolling around.
Making looks and chasing it.
Respectability, always now.
Dignified and such.
No communication games.
Places with no names.
Signs ahead said skip the blame.
Enough with the shake off please.
Get through to the offended.
They are wasting their time.
Make the music regardless.
Make the steel drums ding.
These emotions of the mind.
And the reality of the heart.
Together, they can be controlled.
With some soul and rhythm.
On a four four beat.
Usually.

Reformation Haiku

Not just a small tweak
The reforms do cut deeply-
These cold hallowed nights