Superiority Complexes

Clean up the language quick.
The Holy are coming.
Righteously walking through the crowd.
With superiority complexes.

And smirks.

Like the humorless.
The gotcha boys and girls.
Wrong, but justifying and rationalizing.
Until the last flop.

Connect The Nodes

Faces were shining, awake and bright.

Respecting organizational protocols.
All gathered for the event.

Full of breakfast, ready for the keynote.
Paper free in 03.
Poof, there goes the neighborhood.

Then politics and books and professoring.
Reinvention, over and over.
Jazz music, encouraging, speaking.
Busted the cat blues in Zoo York City.

Call a board meeting.

Ask why, what, when, how, and where.
Tell me more.

Connect the nodes of your hub.
To other nodes and hubs.
Exponential possibilities.

Note:  Follow-up, and through, is the key.
The fig leaf stance must be conquered.

Open up and breath in for 4 seconds.
Hold it for for 4 seconds.
Then a 4 second exhale.
4 times.

Expand the conversation.
From judging to appreciating.
From exclusion to inclusion.
From compliance to celebration.

And the 7th dimension is celebration.
Order some dessert.

Effective Understanding

Too narrow.  Effective Selective Listening.  Effective Understanding.  To listen is to understand and to understand is to love.

1.  Participation.  ×curiosity, tell me more.  ×empathy, their shoes.  ×follow-up, within conversation and after.

2.  Concentration.  ×all in, eye contact.  ×consider, think.  ×distractions, devices/noise.

3.  Other Considerations.  ×understanding in business, blockbuster.  ×various forms of communication, texting.  ×the other senses, visual/intuition.

Techniques to effectively listen.

Techniques to effectively understand.

Telepathic Robots

All I wanna do is fly.

Fly around the world.

All I wanna do is cry.

Cry out for that girl.

I can't hit the brakes.

Brakes won't do me no good.

Look at all those fakes.

Faking out my neighborhood.

Some got sweet green eyes.

Eyes that make you blind.

Some seem much too shy.

Too shy to be unkind.

Walked her to her car.

Parked in the parking lot.

Under a million stars.

Like telepathic robots.

Actual Factual Conclusions

The age of intellectual liberalism is dead.  Inevitable, I suppose.  The self-designated intelligent, unable to admit wrong, even in the sphere of factual conclusions.  The actual factual conclusions.

The story, the deal, the truth.  What occurred, what happened, what went down.  The thinness of the skins. The lameness of the fits.

Convinced of their elevation.  A superiority complex.  Pre-modern.  Pre-historic, pretending.

Like deniers, delusional and dumb.  Name callers, like the fools did, like the insecure do, like the bitter will.  They will talk to each other, the stupid inspiring more stupidity.  And the righteousness involved is staggering, some probably believe they don't sin.

Like, a big sin.  Like, you know.  Like, not a major one.  Not in awhile anyway.

The oily still lube about, making it all slick.  Greasing, taking bribes.  Doing favors, turning tricks.  Crying.

Moonshine Light

This boat about to float.

Like it does every other night.

Take it to the microphone.

Under a moonshine light.

Metal melting doors on our left.

Guess they sound alright.

All we hear is screams and grunts.

Under the moonshine light.

Drummer boy across the way.

Always plays real tight.

Must be a real weird dude.

Under a moonshine night.

Joe Vee Zee's next door.

Usually got some moonshine.
So damn dark in here.

Guess we need a moonshine light.

Red Mud Gonzo: Sixteen

"Emerging Like The Dawn" by jpg

One 20, one 22.  Both emerging like the dawn, both assaulting the rankings, both willing to sacrifice.  There are no millions for them.  Just yet.  Like Vantaggio, not looking to fit in, but to transcend.  The future will be better than the past, as always.  Retro is nostalgia at its finest, but it's still just nostalgia.  Christian Ruud, a known bandana brother from the past, now watches his son, Casper, get deuce juiced at 2-3 in first set.  Garin is nails.  The hat effed him up in the 2nd set.  He needs a bandana and wristbands, seriously.  Ruud seems to have a bit more game, but we've seen Ga--Reeen dig.



"3 Sets" by peoplesDuke

We going 3 sets!!!



"Strong Mover" by AJ

Second set looked like a Ruud awakening.  Congrats to Christian Garín for strong minded third set.  Strong mover.  Glad you guys went.  Wish I could have made it.  Next year!



"Champagne Smells" by jpg

And all of Chile is celebrating.  Their son, a muddy tennis champion, washed the red dirt off in the River Oaks pool.  He took out Ruud in the third set, his offensive game was too much for the Norwegian.  In Houston, Garin was king.  Finished that Runway Girl tune.  Turned out nice.  We got "champagne smells from the night before, no telling what went down."  So gonzo.



"He Dug It The Most" by TTop

Next year for sure!!  It was our presence that propelled him to victory over Chardy...and look at him now, so Vantaggio!  We gotta have a bigger presence next year...AJ, Bill, you guys gotta make It..Joe is newly committed, he dug it the most...we have the process perfected.

Red Mud Gonzo: Fifteen

"More About Confidence" by CB

Tradeshows - SAP, IBM, ORACLE.  It's just a conference and more about confidence than competence.  Just another trade show.  Not everyone goes.  Don't matter if its San Antonio or Orlando, it's just another trade show.



"Un Bandana Frère" by AJ

Un Bandana Frère extraodinaire. Allez Jo!



"Cedric Pioline" by TTop

Just found out that was Cedric Pioline on court with Chardy practising...with that big dude bombing backhand return of serve winners off that beautiful Chardy serve



"Hooks, Musically And Lyrically" by jpg

Put the chords on runway girl.  Hooks, musically and lyrically.  Will record soon.  Surprised my game was so strong during the Houston electric power hour.  Damn, I really smashed Joe!  2-0.  However, it was made clear it did not count towards our Insner Match tally before we started the 2 out of 3.  Think I'm up on that ....a few games.  Joe?   First to 70.  Y'all know.  I will mental barf.  Probably, but maybe not.  Contact point is the revelation.  King James opened my mind to simplicity.  And footwork is the key to contact point.  And agility is the key to footwork.  And agility drills are the keys to agility.  And overcoming laziness is the key to doing agility drills.  And intention is the key to overcoming laziness.  And decisions are the key to intention.  And awareness is the key to decisions.  And the 6 senses are the key to awareness.  The sixth being balance.



"Onward" by peoplesDuke

You were freaking right about returning on. Friday! However; if I had my druthers, we would be leaving River Oaks CC right now. Go Sam!  Galan v. Thompson. Who's last into the semis?  What a great tournament!  Vantaggio can own the challengers and 250 events.  Onward.



"Weekend Morning Rain"  by TTop

The King, El Rey!  I haven't seen Galan, but I'm going with him!  Man I wish we were there right now! ...lovin this early weekend morning rain.

Red Mud Gonzo: Fourteen

"The Bandana Brothers" by jpg

Known tennis street gang, the Bandana Brothers, marked their Houston territory.  Garin is a badass.  We should invite him into our network.  We like his ethic.  His care.  His big point potential.  And, he needs a bandana.  He now goes no headwear.  His head is open for the Vantaggio rainbow bandana...seriously.   On to El Rey.



"Badassery" by AJ

A lot of Badassery comin through that sweet Houston neighborhood.



"Big Sam" by jpg

Drop shot day, this clay surface is slow..  The rain muddied the day, but not before El Rey.  Where the tacos automatically come double tort.  Culture merchandisers, they know what's up.  Some feist is what is needed.  And all the tricks of self defense.  Mechanisms of protection, they will keep everything alright.  Yes, move them side to side, but forward and back too.  The third dimension is lobs and loops and kicks, take the game vertical.  Big Sam has a gun.  Serves make that echo pop.  True, quick, reliable, and eventually deadly on the backhand.  He has the whole game.  Best player we saw play on the Royal Oaks Stadium Court.  The first set against Spainard Garcia-Lopez was won on a 30/40 break point as the back and forth set was at 4-5.  It was an incredible point.  Best of the match.  After a 20 shot rally, Querrey shot a killer quick backhand up the line for a clean winner.  This happened right in front of the Vantaggio box.  No messing around, Big Sam knows what to do with big points.  Perhaps he has a Grand Slam run left in him.  He has the game.  Wish I could convince him of his potential, he probably needs another coach.  Begin with the end in mind.  Enhance strengths, never take them for granted.  Calm, confidence, composure.  McEnroe was, and is, great, but he left Grand Slams on the table.  Could have won more.  Likely, he would agree.  There are only 4 per year to go around.  Besides Querrey, the Americans have taken a smashing in Houston this year.  He is the lone American left in the Lone Star state's premier tennis event.  Of the 32 players to begin the 2019 tournament, 11 were Americans.  One, Big Sam, made the Quarters.  Players from South America, Europe, and Australia will join him.  The USTA is a failed organization, it has not supported a tennis culture that will dig in and fight, that will refuse losing, that will burn slow.  No brats, no whiners, no quit.  We need tennis punks, with sneers and glares, with snarls and steam, with games that simmer.  Big Sam, you are good enough.  Win this damn thing!

"Pizza Motus"  by peoplesDuke

Red Mud Gonzo: Thirteen

"Wasteoid" by jpg

Harrison has no lateral movement anymore.  Tough to watch the diminishing.  We are all familiar.  Tomic should consider getting really drunk.  He's a wasteoid.  White pants are everywhere!  The garden has been expanded and elevated.  Brownwyn is a tremendous leader.  Incremental improvement over time.  Kaizen is still relevant.   Wednesday is for the gals at River Oaks.



"Alfa Romeo" by AJ

I want to be a part of this Vantaggio five year plan!  I wish I had my old Alfa Romeo for Vantaggio business.  Had this 1987 Alfa through my twenties in the 1990s!



"He van de Velde" by jpg

Chardy had 5 match points.  The 4th longest match in tournament history.  The Chilean took it in the 3rd. Tiebreak. Garin is green, but he's coming on.  Best victory of his young career.  The Frenchman choked.  He vandeVelde.  We dropped to the bottom seats.  They wern't being used.  We were out of the sun, it was late afternoon.  The sounds of sliding.  And a red dirt wind.



"Runway Girl" by jpg, TTop, peoplesDuke

EmGAmEm

The Queen got up this morning.

Luxury was all around.

Champagne smells from the night before.

No telling what went down.

Mid-morning there's some yoga.

Makes everything alright.

Then the doll gets all dolled up.

Her brow game is so tight.

CGx3
AmCAmGx2

Oh, she's a honey lady.

Oh, she's got tons of curls.

Oh, she's so beautiful.

She's my lovely runway girl.

She's my lovely runway girl.

Then a beauty nap in the afternoon.

Models need their sleep.

Makes their skin almost see through.

In between the sheets.

Awakes with her runway attitude.

Already walking the walk.

Slides across the bedroom.

Just like she was taught.

(Chorus)

Paris, Milan, and New York City.

She's runwayed them all.

Wearing threads of fashion designers.

In her heels, walking tall.

That's when the fun really begins.

After all the runningways been done.

Time to relax and chill for awhile.

No need to put nothing on.

Red Mud Gonzo: Twelve

"Regular Time" by peoplesDuke

Shoot. Alarm was set for regular time. Be there in 30 mins. Sorry.  Gonna be hot, hot in Houston. Just bringing shorts & tennis shirts. 86, 87 degrees each day.



"Dawn Neon" by jpg

Nick Bollitieri is almost 88 and still has 20/20 vision.  No contacts, no glasses, no surgery.  Incredible.  This Dallas HOV life is a rush.  Flying south through the great Central Expressway.  Allen, Plano, into Dallas proper.  The dawn neon of downtown.  Cranes!  Just flying through.  Red mud sun about to rise.



"Opposite Commute" by AJ

Just drove, opposite commute, similar views. Beautiful morning.



"Astonished" by jpg

...just heard the Vantaggio five year plan.  Astonished.  It will be made so...



"Vantaggio Road Trip"  by TTop

Mr Red Mud Rising....Mr RedMud Rising.  Sun to the left, Ennis to the right...here we come, right down to Houston again. Vantaggio Road Trip!  Red Mud Gonzo!



"Fluid Operator"  by jpg

...cargo shorts get a bad rap.  TTop was there first.  They gathered around him.  The gals.  They felt comfortable around him.  Safe.  Like he was their guardian angel, watching over them, eyes covered by shades, a few swallows of beer to go...  So Vantaggio, man.  So Vantaggio......that Marty Fish is everywhere!  Last I saw he was coaching Isner after Isner dumped his coach.  Unofficially and passively.  Now, he's snapping photos with Bobby P's tennis wife in the Hill Country.  Surely Mardy is getting paid for this, this drilling workshop.  He is a mystery, he is a shadow, he swims around like a shark.  He'll be walking around River Oaks, approachable, moving, unaffiliated, a fluid operater...

Don't Remember Yesterday

All night long covered my eyes.  All day long tell my lies.  All my life been flying blind, I ain't ready to die.

Got sand between my toes, walked the beaches of Mexico, might be moving slow, might be writing notes.

Found my way.

Had my say.

Don't remember yesterday.

This day on is all there is, live like I'll never see you again.  Love is just like a best friend, won't leave you at the end.

Forget the agression, get on with the resting, try to be more trusting, please quit all your fussing.

ACx3

G

DF

FCx6

On The Road To Paradise

ggdg
ddgc
ccdc
gdcg

This walking is harder than it used to be.
Balance ain't easy with these two old knees.
Shoulders hurt and ya know bout my feet.
When you grow up you'll be just like me.

Met at a Mexican place down the road.
Tried to cancel then we called on the phone.
Shopped and shopped then they went home.
Would've made the time later if we'd known.

Some relaxation is all we got planned.
Have some wine and tell us bout the fam.
Politics too even though it's a sham.
Play a few songs that I play with my band.

Living like gypsyies on the road to paradise.
See all the way back on most of their lives.
They grow up fast and, my how time flies.
There's no going back, no making it right.

Think I'll drive up to Wisconson this year.
Through StLouis where they make Bud beer.
Chicago too it's on the way and kinda near.
If I wait any longer and he won't be here.

But that's just the way things go, you know.
Everybody chose the roads they chose.
Don't matter none to the old scarecrows.
Sun still shines and the wind still blows.

Thad Fixx

d
g

Worried bout the eyes, bout the lies, bout the ties.
Hurried and woken, been toking, ain't joking.
Bleeding from my nose, on my clothes, need a dose.
Place for the crazy, the lazy, the hazy.

cgx3
gd

Get cho Fixx
Try all the tricks.
Claim you're sick.
Get cho Fixx.

Ain't your dad.
Not really mad.
Mostly sad.
Poor ole Thad.

Running from his life, from his wife, from the night.
Coming for your cash, for your stash, for your trash.
Spitting his bullshit, baby fit, getting lit.
Tripping on his meth, gets no rest, our houseguest.

Get cho Fixx
Try all the tricks.
Claim you're sick.
Get cho Fixx.

Ain't your dad.
Not really mad.
Mostly sad.
Poor ole Thad.

Sauced Again

Em
Am
Gx2

Tried enough.
Can't save too much.
Only a day.
Only a day.

Bright enough.
Still crave your touch.
Show us the way.
Show us the way.

EmAm

Prowl around here with your love and concern, with your blood and your bones, with your mud and your moans.

Lost again.
The lights cut out.
It's all dark now.
It's all dark now.

Sauced again.
The primal shout.
Sounds like a howl.
Sounds like a howl.

Dance around here with your moves and your turns, with your grooves and your hair, with your truth and your stares.

Practical Avenue

...Where I live, between Practical Avenue and Dreamy Street.

...Controlling perceptions, magical and manipulative.

...Fraudulent.

...Not in a sinister way, to be clear.

...Monetary greed doesn't motivate, private eyes know.

...Scene control.

...A personal, and intentional, solitude.

...My sweet spot.

...For reasons unknown and confusing, contrary to a general pragmatism.

...Reckless, but alone.

Words Left Unsaid

Counting the time down and down.
Nothing to do with this restless heart.

Seldom can anything be absolutely known.
Impossible to see into another's mind.

The tension of our time alone.
We could sit in silence with our thoughts.

Organize and formulate our peace.
Reflect on a day of activity and things.

Think of an overcast sky hiding the sun.
Covering us all with billowing clouds.

Or a cluster of bright stars on a clear night.
Calm with a cool spring breeze.

Words left unsaid are not words.
They were never meant to be said.

World Poetry Day

Jesus!
Just found out it's world poetry day.
Uncertain if this is a yearly event.
But it should not be missed.
By a poetry writer.
Who writes poetry.
From time to time.
Which become songs, sometimes.
Years later, in some cases.
Haiku it if you have to.
Counting syllables with a vibe.

Reach out and ask.
Demand the answers you need.
Pull up your contacts.

Five.  Seven.  Five.  Vibe.

The best are curious about the right things.
Not untrusting and hovering.
Like a shepherd or tour guide.
More like an open range.
The run of the place.

But I got no damn poems today.
On world poetry day.

Just Like A Punk

CG
FC

No sleep tonight.
That super moon shining too bright.
Stop all these fights.
Wish we'd all just be alright.

Sleep peacefully.
Our souls need the time to dream.
Move easily.
Skeletons wanna break free.

GAmGC

Too young to funk.
Clean out your junk.
Just like a punk.
Just like a punk.

Pick out a show.
If you want, please let me know.
I'd like to go.
To a show that makes you glow.

This ain't no trick.
See through your worried schtick.
Don't need a fix.
Care less about your pillbox mix.

(Chorus)

What's all this hate?
What's all this envious rage?
Where's all the craze?
Where's a trail we can find and blaze?

Done played the blues.
Sent a jingle to the marketing crew.
Melted metal too.
Once started a rapper feud.

Coals That Simmer

GC

What am supposed to do if I miss you.

Thinking about how it'd be to kiss you.

Put out my fire, just coals that simmer.

Turn to ash soon, but still got a glimmer.

FC

GFFC

We don't talk enough anymore.

We make some sounds and walk through some doors.

And I don't think I like that.

Responsible and respectable and somewhat trapped.

The mood falls low, the lights are dimmed.

Think of the bluest you've ever ever been.

Hope in the morning it's got up and gone.

Can't keep fighting them for very long.

The Barley Was Knarley

Flat and sad, the back tire of my bike as I walked it along Wilson Creek coming from a brewery ride.  The gang had already scattered.  Too many people, afternoon plans, work, almost too drunk to ride.  The reasons were varied and legitimate.  And it was all fine.  The hops hopped, the barley was knarley.  Green was everywhere, like the color had been claimed, lifted up, and worshiped.  Green upon green upon green as the song goes.  And the mind does wander, swimming in brew, clouded by clouds, blasted by music.

The origins of cricket.

Content monetizing.

Retrenching and reimagining.

BMX culture.

Bonsai plants sold on street corners.

Past floods.

Intentional dressing.

Cost of tree maintenance.

Fast fenders.

Crowd control.

Wrecks and unfortunate malfunctions.

The sunlight seekers.

Iron artists and welders.

Apricots and peaches.

Links with links surrounded by links.

Boogie on reggae woman with dead flowers.

Marketing should be raw, underthought.

Even the bean counters agree.

Matt and Adam, or Adam and Matt.

The alcohol % is posted for review.

Jumping curbs.

Baker burger and chili fries.

Nothing But Theives and the whiskey crutch.

Know something.

The future is closer than ever.

And it won't last too long.

Then, as I was walking along obliviously, a car pulled up driven by a small, leprechaun looking man by the name of O'Reilly.  He rolled down his window and asked in the strangest voice, "Got a flat, do ya?"  And the way he said "ya", like when a doctor tells you to open up and say 'ahhh', was outstanding.  He was the real deal.  Greenish skin, pointy big ears, smelling of Irish Spring.  Like the soap.  "Yep, damn tire", I answered, " Nothing to do but walk it home."  He insisted on giving me a ride and I was in no position to decline his offer.  I awkwardly stuffed my bike in his trunk and we drove off.  

All I know is I woke up and I was floating on a magic carpet.  In the sky.  Elvis and Chuck Berry were there and about to box.  I was sitting ringside.  To my left was Helen Keller, which I thought was odd.  Next to her was Teddy Roosevelt, screaming at Elvis, calling him a rat and a thug.  Chuck was strutting around the ring singing Respect, the Aretha Franklin tune.  Skinny looking in his big boxing shorts, his legs were like sticks.  I figured Elvis would smash him, especially since he knew Kung Fu.  But Chuck seemed confident, and Elvis was complaining of a stomach ache.  I was beginning to get excited.  No sign of the leprechaun, and I was relieved.  He was a bit weird and probably on drugs.  To my right was Sitting Bull, sitting silently.  He had stories he would never tell.  His eyes were see through.  He didn't need to speak, I knew what he thought.  I saw what he thought.  Behind us was a sea of people, all races, genders, conditions, all kinds of thinkers.  The opinionated and up tight . The apathetic and laid back.  The obsessed.  They were all half humming, half singing This Land Is Your Land.  From California to the New York Islands, something about a redwood forest and Gulf waters.  Then the referee for the boxing match, dressed in black and white stripes, took the microphone.  He told everyone to "shut the fuck up".  It was then I realized it was Redd Foxx.  Once the entire magic carpet was quiet, he lifted the mic and proclaimed loudly and definitavely, "Golf is not a sport!"  I agreed.  Then everything turned into a steam room and I fell asleep.  Crazy.

Red Mud Gonzo: Eleven

"Houston By Mid-Morning" by jpg

Let gravity do its work.  We will slam south at ridiculous speeds.  Early on that second Wednesday in April.  Early early, before the produce trucks hit the roads.  Before any of the sun's light is near.  In the dark.  Houston by mid-morning.  Visioning myself in the back of a luxury automobile, one of those Audi's perhaps, high fidelity, digital, robotic gadgets.  Ignoring traffic, the dumb city designers of Houston's past, and the whole Garland-like metropolis.  Tranced by red mud thoughts and ideas, only gaining attention when the River Oaks estates play on our transparent instincts of envy.  Hope it don't rain.



"There Is A Plan" by peoplesDuke

Where did you buy the passes? I couldn't find on official site.  Stub hub?  Can we get press credentials?  We need to have a meeting.  Keck and I are retrenching.  There is a plan.  It will work.



"Alright Jacksonians!" by jpg

2 rooms left at Montrose Place.  $135 each.  I'll book the double bed room, someone else book the other.  Hotels.com.

Alright Jacksonians!  Got my two US Clay Court Day Session passes for Wed. and Thurs.  Also, booked the 2 double bed room at Montross.  Sweet suite is left for same price.  Suite has rollout bed and king.  There is a process for press credentials.  I'm on it!



"My Serbian Brother" by TTop

My Serbian Brother through to the next round.



"The Female Onion" by peoplesDuke

Yeah, yeah. I heard the same shit about Nadia Petrova 10 years ago and Carolina Sprem, and then it was Yanina Wickmayer, and last but not least Sabine Lisicki after watching her destroy Dominika Cibulkova "The female onion" at the Irving tournament.



"The Vans Pattern" by jpg

Regarding patterns, the Nike seasonal offering this year seems a total give up and lacks imagination.  No colors that pop, bland.  80s retro doesn't work.  The Vans pattern belongs primarily on Vans, chess, checkers, and overpriced bakery floors.

Days Of Every Day

Make a memory for yourself.
Mine are all the same.
Last you told me how you felt.
Almost went insane.

Sing it for you a thousand times.
The words never change.
Might miss a note or two, alright.
I'm so bad with names.

Another day will likely come.
Lord, they always have.
Slinging snakes and speaking tounges.
Relics of the past.

True what you say about the years.
Not the easy way.
Plenty of pain, but lots of cheers.
Days of every day.

Love is like a canyon wall.
Water does its thing.
Carves the rock with its claws.
See it in the rings.

GC
GCD
GC
DCG

Mute

Lift up the highways.
Put them on cement towers.
This is lonleyland.
None of that Twisted Sister.
Mute the King of Pop.

Justice is served to ashes too.
Along with bleeding hearts.
Cry for the poor again.
They can't afford tears.
Their eyes are dry.

Just Before Always

On the daily.
Understanding.
Well beings.
Digging down.
Curiously.
Looking inside.
Innocently.
Soul seeking.
Cooly.
Cracking frowns.
With love.
And weirdness.

Take the 5th.
Say what you want.
Write it.
No absolutes.
It's a bad habit.
And inaccurate.
Usually.
Fill your life.
With humility space.
We'll all need it.
In the end.
Just before always.

The Tune Room

Coming into Roosevelt.

The spot for drinks. 

Sweet Lucy's BBQ.

God bless the strip.

Stay on 4th, under the loop. 

A whirlwind drive.

Cold.

Through the shacktowns of Lubbock.

Near Memphis Avenue.

Cops patrolling for public disturbances.

The slow poke joke.

Busting.

Alright doobie dogs, it's all good from here.

The tow trucks are trolling.

West lot overlooks the highway.

Dashed in past the lit up greenhouse.

Welcomed into the Metallica family.

Typical beer lines and crowds.

Got the comic on the mic.

A debut song tonight.

Working it out in the tune room.

Strawberry jams.

The overwhelming drums.

High fidelity lead licks echoing.

Perfectly timed basslines and transitions.

Then the growl.

Salute the rockers.

They have made a mess of this place.

I know it's only rock and roll.

But I like it.

There is no remedy for metal.

It must destroy.

Deep Space Dimensions

Other than the mystics, we are clueless.

Self-absorbed in our daily rumblings.

Completely overcome with importance.

Entirely obsessed with sensibilities.

Beyond a few discoveries, we are blind.

Carry on with the telescopes and missions.

Deep space dimensions are relative too.

The answers can be predicted with math.

Despite soul chasers, we are peaceful.

Intentionally oblivious to instabilities.

Consciously creating active diversions.

Allowing life to fill the blanks with color.

Throughout our existence, we are miracles.

These bodies of complicated systems.

Minds of imaginations and curiosities.

Souls that yearn and burn with emotion.

Metal Fusion

CFCG

...crossing of the ingredients.

...the rise of the supersoldier.

...pump up the juices to high.

...anything that will keep her.

...stamina unlimited and true.

...emotional steady mindsets.

...empathetic rationalizations.

...and the crying and restless.

C
FCx2
FG

The revolution.

Of our delusions.

Of our illusions.

Of our minds.

The one solution.

A fine seclusion.

A metal fusion.

And lasting time.

...where drones hover silently.

...next big bang is years away.

...real matter keeps expanding.

...low energy can be betrayed.

...let's ride the north side trails.

...the surface is solid and alive.

...prime conditions of spring.

...enough cold left to chill out.

Don't Bother Hanging Out

Whole scenes of amber fog and mist.

Entire conversations of strategic intent.

On a run to nowhere, finding nothing.

Looking for signs of life and musicians.

Looking past the dejected and beat.

Feeling this place from the seventies.

When there wasn't as much going on.

Seemed everybody liked it that way.

The bubble busts and sonic booms.

Would rather y'all just pass right through.

However, the supply house has supplies.

Make it quick and don't bother hanging out.

No drinks around in this weird town.

Useless loops and high powered signals.

Cleaning cult of personality money probably.

International flights are booked ahead.

This annoying detour is much too long.

Someone has to be the first at everything.

This Ain't The Apocalypse

Keep The Friction To A Minimum

Go for the low-effort, the smooth.
It is our operation, our silos.
But, scale, scale!
That's for the robots.
The switches and other factors.

We must feel what they feel.
High level will bring it all together.
Like two continents.
Geographically separate.
International, of the entire world.

Integrated, daily involvement.
The judges can take a hike.
They sit in judgement at judgement time.
However, there is no law to judge.
Help, like a shadow.

Leave the checkmarks aside.
Enjoy the outcomes, enjoy the smiles.
Not all the trends are clear.
Only a third of the effort counts.
The metric system.

Keep the friction to a minimum.
Roadblocks can be anything.
Or anyone.
Pyramids are supportive by nature.
Challenged and sold.

Where Imaginations Are Reflecting

Mind somewhere else.
In the movies.
Write a good ending.
The public must be entertained.

I.

We are to create.
Morning, noon, and night.
Late and early.
The dark is best.

II.

To be anonymous.
Alone and forgot.
Except in my head.
Where imaginations are reflecting.

III.

Our hopes and fears.
And when we think the same.
When we know what each other knows.
We can be silent.

Inclusion

A summit of sorts.
Some commission, some foundation.

Diversity sitting politely up front.
Equity making noises in the back.
Inclusion running the whole show.

Not enough to be at the table.
Sponsorship is needed.
Decisions made, where they're at.
The bean counters, again and again.
Opportunity is like a magnet.
The capitalists will find our way.
Exploiters must be brought into the light.

This is not the time for bullshit.
How we refer to scenarios, it can be done.
Neutrality is the thing, agnostic to methods.
Results are results and numbers don't lie.
Put on a gas mask and hang with Kill22.
No, those numbers don't lie y'all.

Generational attitudes of the glowing faces.
Picking political fights is boring.
The 2nd level of diversity is the mind.
It is the answer to Return On Investment.
Conformity will leave us all diminished.

Guarded By Sharks

     We are not what we used to be.  Molecular, cellular, or otherwise.  The skeleton maintains, the frame remains.  What we see and hear alters our thoughts, our knowledge, our beliefs.  We have tolerance.  Too much, most would say.  But we know better, the love is unchanged.  These seasons and these crazy days.  Silence of the early hours, dancing with dogs.

     Show your face, the rulers of the galaxy would shout.  Walk like a punk girl, like Joan Jett.  Put dimes in jukeboxes and love rock and roll.  Those old attitude days, when we put our fist up and yelled.  When we got it on, painted on walls, singing those same old songs.  Shook your tree for peaches.  The grins, the sins, the midnights.  Til 2 am.  Til closing time, then curve it home.

     All an observation, just passing through, tapping out words, humming along, thinking about what the future will be like.  The one unseen, never even imagined.  Learning more about the past, the one never spoken of or remembered.  The histories of the obscure.  Important and connected to all of history, connected to us.  Not in vain, but critical to our truth.

     The bad viruses are frozen and buried near the poles.  Keep them on ice.  Watch out for the heat waves and ice ages, the wear and tear of travel.  Something about the oceans, fished and fished.  Massive, mysterious, uncharted.  Sonar or radar or an MRI.  All kinds of things from space are there.  Almost intentionally inaccessible, guarded by sharks.  Dangerous and delicious, the deep ocean blues.

Blinded By Spots

How the rain drops, heavy and cold.
Evaporation is for later.

This knock knock knock, throughout.
Discussions about intelligence.

A sentence exercise, capture the nuance.
Stick to the topic.

Set up the LLC, mark it down in gold.
Dealerships are in need of innovations.

Find some songs to sing, hum them all day.
Lace the lyrics with accentuation.

Tell them the truth, even the teachers.
They can be blinded by spots.

Work the numbers, count the beans.
Mystics have always maneuvered about.

Nothing broke, no glass shards or blood.
No use crying over spilt wine.

Let the times roll, the way time always rolls.
With a tick then a tock.

Hello there, you with the smile in your eyes.
Transparent and bright.

Known weaknesses, accepted and figured.
The rest left unknown.

Solitary Days

One time.
Saw a big light.
Saw a big fight.
Then I went home.

'Nuther time.
Heard a blue bird.
Heard some blue words.
Was all alone.

Solitary days, solitary ways, the only ways I know.
What's behind the mask, let the light in fast, wish all the truths were shown.

This time.
Felt my heart hurt.
Felt my heart burst.
Something was wrong.

Next time.
Taste a sweet kiss.
Taste the sweet mist.
Ain't got that long.

EmGx3
D

EmG
DCG

Like A Fire Fly

Breath in deep, let the genetic fix in.
Light it up like a fire fly.

Correct it, don't accept it.
External care, for comfort and hope.
The cure is at the genesis.
Cough no longer, those old beat vests.

Life expectancies are cruel.
I'll die when I die!

Suffocation has eluded me so far.
Break the brakes, full out to the future.
Crash into it, careen.
This industry is immoral.

The Rubik's Cube is solved.
Jenga is next.

Instantaneous Automatic Maneuver

Rotations and directions, everywhere they pointed.  Side to side, front to back, four tries.  Make them count, follow through, move forward.  

A turn should happen first, the first move.  Then a step up.  Like an instantaneous automatic maneuver.  

The odd crowd, internalists mostly.  Keeping it in, needing an outlet.  They are smashing.  

Care is expensive, the research is stalled.  Get to the point.  The genes done it, family history don't lie.  

Molecules and atoms can be made right.  Keep it going, the rallies are fine.  Let's work up some sweat, get the legs moving, quick feet, on your toes.  

Pick up 5, make a big circle.  Jump in whenever.  The tennis underground is represented, make time for the burn out drill.  

Shower up, the cold will do its magic.  Fresh and clean.  Red Stripe hit the spot.  Brand awareness, for the love of the game.

Speck Of Dust

Between hope and delusion, where imaginations reside. In the near future, before the horizon.

Like the exiled, we are marooned.  Left, but watched.

Tracked.  The known, the blind, the hidden, the unknown.

Together, the essence, the aura, and the vibe.  Freedom of thoughts, words, and trees.

Shading the day, rooted firmly in the earth.  The blessed dirty ground.

The conditions are delicate, this sustainability.  Unlikly, beyond our capability to grasp.

Coast to coast on this skateboard ride.  Balanced, suspended, a speck of dust.

Leadership Theory And Practice 11

A.  From knowing to doing to being.
What separates, translates, and incorporates.

B.  Our social identities must be identified and known.  Personal identities should be considered.

C.  The mixture is our professional identity.  The ratios matter.

D.  Like a constellation, like an attention screen or a motivational device.  The potential for derailment is significant, even typical.

E.  Articulation of the mechanisms is next.  Awaken.

F.  Linger for awhile, float in between relapse and progress.  Change agents make a difference with their interpersonal capacity.

G.  Social spheres orbiting.  And spinning. 

H.  In transit to somewhere, never to return. Midair is sufficient for now, it is clean and healthy.

I.  It will facilitate identity alterations.  Be at the ready, eyes open and willing.

J.  The time is now, the space is here.  We have joie de vivre, curiosity, and affinity.

K.  Psychologically safe.  Blessings, wisdom, seeds, and belief.

L.  It is a spiral, not a line or a box or a template.  It is not a process, but a galaxy, speeding while turning, activity within, centered around a sun.

They Dream In Green

Heavy effort, smashing and agile.
Working the court, squinting into the sun.
All warmed up.

A star spangled multi-national anthem.
From continents afar.
One, two, three, four.

Media and the 11 second update.
Road trip destination, clear and cool.
Logo box in the back.

Old back roads still move.
Sweet Norah singing about Lone Stars.
Doubling up first, mix it good.

Too much pace, too much finish.
Then the singles.
2nd got excellent depth, a set up artist.

Commentators, writers, racquet experts.
Fashionable opinions.
Singers, rappers, shouters.

Coaches, seemingly everywhere.
Glares and dirty looks, 3rd having fun.
Wrist tendons, shoulder aches, backs.

Hard courts are hard.
Soft clay of Europe, calling them back.
Like playing on clouds.

No use for Cali, got to get the heck back.
Trust the young eyes.
Mean what they see, believe what they say.

They dream in green.
About angles and form and mental calm.
And swinging under the windmills.

Blue Space Special

Dashing.
In the air around you.
Stereotype.
Call up special operations.
Orbiting.
Nearing the satellites.
Neptunian.
Earth has its own space.
Clairvoyant.
Try the blue space special.
Idealism.
Only stardust in the end.
Numerical.

Jokes

Look into the glowfaces.
The young don't care about our correctness.
They are smarter than that.
Tolerance has limits.
Apathy, and most of its forms.
Jokes.
Journalism of the cowards.
And crying babies.
Righteousness drips through the pixels.
Comedy, of the boring kind.
Without laugh tracks.
Witless.
The future will begin soon.

Leadership Theory And Practice 10

The scholars and practitioners got together one day.  They wanted conclusions on the basis of evidence.  This war is for talent, not on talent!  Accidents will not do, our prescription is a pill that will work.  Transformational leaders can be made, especially the born leaders.  There's got to be theories of self-awareness, charisma is a relative term, and models must be developed, not adopted.

This is merely a transaction if morality has no center.  Transparent, ethical, fair.  Unlike a shadow, full of substance.  Full of the Give-A-Care Factor (GAC).  The serendipty does its part, the unknown universe of fate.  Like being born, then being made.  An entity of incremental elasticity.  The dominos have already fallen.  The lazy are cast aside, avoided.  The idols are dead, they were not enough.  It's easy to see what's wrong.

Think about how to think.  Seek to learn.  Clarify your self-concept.  The confidence, motivation, execution trinity.  All impacting each other, two must exist to function as a leader.  Maximize the optimal moments, test, reflect, develop.  Doctors and post-Doctors agree, we are in our infancy.  We must say exactly what we mean.  We must prove.  Optimism must increase.  Hope is real.  Resiliency.  And, finally, efficacy, defined as "The probability in one's head that they could be successful at a task."

Once again, less is more.  The context is what matters.  Embedded within, not separate, not from another source.  We'll consult ourselves.  We are positive.  Simple and profound.  Inertia never gets going.  The future.  Bio and genetic evaluations.  No implications.  High fidelity simulations and holograms.  The old world has served its purpose, the winds are full of serendipity.  We are sailing, there is no going back.

Angel White

This was not a dream.
But it seemed like one.
Cold Monday.
A ride to remember.
Cruising with Martin on our minds.
The 60s.
Tragic age of American assassinations.
Not peace and love.
No flower power.
More Altamont, less Woodstock.

Fast fender contraption.
Too late for that.
Pant leg caught up in the chain.
Yellow box house near Chestnut Square.
Broke beyond repair.
A bicycle birthday miracle.
Ditch the reflectors for sure.

Raise a glass at The Celt.
With the chips & fish.
Old Kam's, old Buffalo Joe's.
T'was in another lifetime.
One of toil and blood.
When blackness was a virtue.
And the road was full of mud.

Rio knows who's to blame.
On this dog friendly patio.
Lawyers will even rob the blind.

And then Angel White walked up.
With bad religion and a burning cigarette.
Paisley trousers and pointy cowboy boots.
Jewel studded, orange shaded shades.
Guitar around his neck.
Ready to sing his own songs.
About going and love and being saved.
Dollar bills were everywhere.

The wind howled.
Like it does in January.

Shooting Phasers

The mannequin woman was glowing.
Lights, and the silver smooth voice.
Prepare for lift off with the audio level.

Heavy noises waking internal spirits.
Vibrations and a tight, banging beat.
Keys, mixed with shooting phasers.

Opener raps about friends and enemies.
Chills, outside air crisp and breezing.
Sweet spices with the fly red stripes.

The iced tea of Long Island, New York.
Just enough for the loosen up, easy.
Let the music in, let it move the body.

Balancing on the ledge of funk and poetry.
Went in for the hug, it wasn't necessary.
No worries, no worries, my love.

Here she is, a giver, a forgiver, a pretender.
Leaving this planet, with chemical brain.
In perfect rhythm, thinking the same things.

Ain't It Beachy (Find Our Wave)

I'm gonna go.
Find my wave.
I'm gonna roll.
Find my wave.
I'm gonna ride.
Find my wave.
Riding in style.
Find my wave.

Feel really shook.
Find your wave.
Feel like a crook.
Find your wave.
Feel nothing new.
Find your wave.
Give me some clues.
Find your wave.

Ain't it peachy, ain't it peachy, ain't it peachy, I swear.
Ain't it sweetie, ain't it sweetie, ain't it sweetie, let's share.
Ain't it beachy, ain't it beachy, ain't it beachy, I swear.

Maybe we sing.
Find our wave.
Maybe we fling.
Find our wave.
Maybe we run.
Find our wave.
All in good fun.
Find our wave.

Under The Equator

Down under, under the Equater, the heat rises off the court.  The players are suffering through.  This season shall begin.

The older and decorated.  Gushed over, respected, feared.  For good reason.  They have accomplished.  Some will break.

The younger and intimidated.  Ignored, overlooked, punked.  Anonymous.  But not for long.  Soon, the racquet will turn.

Commentators with their thoughts.  Former players who know.  The physical toil.  The psychological toll.  Memories of glory.

Down under, under the Equater, the lines don't lie.  Roars of exertions, screams of effort, groans.  Intentional intensity. 

Midnight

The insides will fail.
Connecting wires, burning.

Finite.

Sail the open sea.
Around the globe, cruising.

Limelight.

Take the clear way.
Above the clouds, sleeping.

Midnight.

Top of the clock.
Hands together, clapping.

Outside The Atmosphere

Step off the subway line.
Into the madness.
Your station has arrived.

Excuse the little crimes.
Forgive the sadness.
Comes with being alive.


Don't go away too far.
Or for too long, please.
The emptiness is feared.

Way up there, near the stars.
Beyond these dark trees.
Outside the atmosphere.


Another cheer for love.
When we feel assured.
For all eternity.

Take it easy, my love.
Shake the blues with words.
It's our reality.


FC
GAm
FCG
G

G Harp