how do we decide
the importance to place
on sidetracking imaginations
are we forgetting or remembering
relying on or plunging
forward without worrying about the outcome decidedly doomed to give us another surprise eating the well wishes delivered on paper plates
we travel forward
without a dance
we can’t find our feet
without a chance
we can’t feel the beat
reflect
maybe we’ll meet
deflect
i can’t feel your heat
i want to stand near you
stumbling towards blocks in a road that twists through backroads in a boarder-less country
i turned around
nothing left to be found
on virgin paths leading underground
i chose the high road of memories
pieces of me examined through distant eyes without the flash of a coming surprise i could supply my supple ego and charm with enough calm to disarm relics causing alarm
peace
solitude found in replayed imaginations
comfort in connecting to the past
let me sit, loaf, and find the place where it all begin
a spectator to my own birth
squeezing through mush-hole-muddy mounds where burial dances softened an awakening ground
for the next round
where i’ll be found
distracting myself with where i’m bound
a mere reflection
in everyone’s crown
Male-1
that sounds like fun with double edged swords hanging above as i lay on a table set for two
with you crouching below
Damocles would be proud
it was shallow and baseless the crowds that gathered waiting to watch as we both vowed to leave together with a common cause casually understanding the reality that we would get shocked by sunlight peaking through a stained glass window carrying the memories of a religion lost to human interactions that didn’t match their masters wish
love
be loved
the rest will take us from this sphere of rational thoughts that power and steer us through the eye of the needle passing the middle while he played the fiddle
a tune that we all could hum
om
or shalom
my friend
Male-1
Adam and a friend
starting over to rediscover the purpose of this undercover time
talented skeptics waking from the magic that flows from the fingertips of gremlin werewitches wishing they were born into a tribe of spanish conquistadors stirring in the sea of shivering dreams when taking over another’s home was normal and needed to exchange the throne of kings who wanted to pollute their position of power for profit limply leaning on edges of mountain-top snow drifts blown to shape our emotional lifts lovers gifts delivered during days of lamppost parades with whistle blowing well wishers signaling a confrontation with the few of us who still believe
it’s not stirring spells that circumvent our need for control, it’s the collective soul reaching this goal
the pharaoh didn’t walk alone
on that gilded sand
legions of weak dreams followed her around
fading away to a blur
still strong enough to stir the breath of fresh water waiting for warmth in the morning stream of thought that hadn’t occurred without the jarring distant discontented sounds breaking on our painstaking turn to burn the love we adjourn without acknowledging the slight differences between us
i’m not stunned anymore
indifferent
she confronted me as i stumbled with squinting eyes searching for answers to the riddle stranded in the middle of barren emotions balanced on the line of where we’re going and where we went
now
she’s waiting for me
on that gilded sand
leading me to the land of tomorrow’s memories
crunching sounds came from her room
mornings are done
she spent enough time spitting in moving streams sending stems shooting up where she’d hang her hopes, dreaming of valleys where vapors vault off vailed actor’s faces while they falsely direct attention away from tempting situations
we’ll end up there again
this time the lights will be out
she’ll continue to shout her thumbs into a screen to make sure you understand where she’s been, delegated discoveries of insecure ship captains commanding without a crew
navigating neutral waters
waiting for a breeze
i’ll be there, with her, hoping inspiration at the end of the day will guide us after coming half way.
*I’m halfway through a year of “streaming” everyday. I will now switch to streaming before i go to bed, rather than right when i wake up. i should probably change the title of the blog – in time.
SOTU: 1/30/18
Day 376
Shattered norms
our union
speaker
president
congress
first lady
americans
this podium
their dreams
swift action
our land
all americans
extraordinary success
never imagined
storms
we can be americas spine
devastating hurricane
las vegas strip
with melania
hurricane harvey
forty lives
thank you very much
david dahlburg
walls of flame
wildfires
pull through together
always
very personally
like you steve
in this room
yes
(paul ryan is thinking – so far so good)
of tragedy tonight
the key
to serve
our people are strong
proud america
including
alone
rising wages
forty-five year low
ever recorded
in history
this short period of time
through the roof
american history
small business
for everyone
child tax credit
in half
a lot more
(paul ryan – slow down buddy, stop ad libbing)
government ordered health care
individual mandate is now gone
anywhere in the world
a lot of money
in ohio
twenty year history
the building next door
two daughters education
a great welder
20,000 workers
just a little while ago
new american moment
this is your time
achieve absolutely anything
we’re going to be
do anything
same home
american flag
american life
in god we trust
(paul ryan – circled fingers to the sky)
unwavering support
on veterans day
a job well done
stand for the national anthem
history of our great country
religious liberty
health care decisions
VA accountability act
love our vets as much as we do
beginning of this great journey
our veterans
the american people (?remove people who fail american people?)
any administration in the history of country (remove regulations)
beautiful clean coal
to the world
beautiful autoworkers
that’s whats happening
in a long time
its all coming back
all over our country
leaving us
that’s where they want to be
the right to try
prescription drugs
for the year
watch
our wealth
we’re getting it back so fast
reciprocal
they’ll be fair
our trade rules
crumbling infrastructure
a simple road
our people deserve
desperately needs
we can do it
even one
building heritage
american grit
poverty to prosperity
need so badly
full potential
paid family leave
second chance at life
american families
illegal unaccompanied alien minors
thank you very much
thank you
break into our country
never happen again
all over the world
america’s forgotten communities
and creed
right to american dream
american’s are dreamers too
happen quickly
off our streets
great guy
send you reinforcements
previous administration covered
twelve year period
the border
catch and release
safety of american people
respect the laws of our country
end chain migration
distant relatives
spouses and minor children
future of america
chain migration
no longer afford
into the 21st century
immigration system
makes it happen
terribly hurt
you enable the goodness of our nation
our values
or anyone else
their nuclear weapons
we are not their yet, sadly
face of the earth
killers in iraq, and syria, and other locations as well
until isis is defeated
hopefully safely
boobie trapped
open an airway
emergency surgery
staff sergeants
are evil
annihilate them
be clear
unlawful enemy combatants
terrorists
who we release
great job
guantanamo bay
wherever we find them
guantanamo bay
new rules of engagement
(paul ryan – yawned)
our plans
jerusalem as the capitol of israel
make this decision
only go to friends of america
struggle for freedom
iran nuclear deal
sanctions on cuba and venezuela
cruel dictatorship in north korea
aggression and provocation
inspire us all thank you
total american resolve
to always done
be free
to death
the truth
how far you’ve come
thank you
monument to the american people
brave kids
they are americans
belongs to them
be worthy of them
we should never forget
god bless america
good night
stranded and willing
copper plated evening attire drew me to you and kept us circulating thoughts of wonder and tragedy.
the way we started
moving in circles with motion to sense our lack of control the way we hid in remote locations and occasions of caution with the stream line left to linger on a wandering night through blowing sand and dead elf wishes when cruising through the forest was easier than waking through gilded rooms of gold and silver wishes
deciding it was you who would lose themselves in grafted family trees where it was meant to be
i shouldn’t have been drawn to you
magnetic malice blew through the door halting progress passing through conduits dreamt up by our lost lips remembering the taste of penniless moments dreaming we could be coated again to pass freely to one another’s passions
i lit the fuse and stayed
i wanted to feel the bomb blast, more importantly the time pass as a hiss would grow to bang and leave my final performance something of a mess
grinding behind curtains
you knew i was back there
words that churn from their mouths syntactic seeds i sprinkled in one-on-one rooms
people don’t think about the farmer alone walking rows before their shower starts
bacon and eggs for lazy legs distant from delivery of what keeps them from death
chain links and locks, layers and series of clicks and clocks, clacks and clucks
removed
nuances delivered developed by detailed rain falling on poor richard’s head as he stands alone in mud tides willing himself to walk to the shoals
studios where elvis was made without awkward hips but rhythm and dips doo dippy doo the wizard is suppose to stay in the shoe and don’t rub three times
i have no wishes
the plates delivered not thinking about dishes
i’ll live back here, behind the forest guiding as you zoom in-and-out
a final testament
the sound that stirs your snooze as i give a final refuse and wait…it’s the end of the fuse
i’m behind the curtain
you won’t have to watch
he couldn’t find his way through the textural maze of self-doubt and criticisms sang to him before bed
there were still bars surrounding him
cries to stay alive barely realized all he could surmise is those legs better bend and rise to help him climb up to the only group big enough to feel like he belonged
homo erectus
homo connectus
they couldn’t exclude him
they’d try
running through fields of cigarette butts and self serving pin pricks, random stray dog licks, and get out of here boot kicks he found the porch
there, his eyes, unable to stay as still as his blessed heart laid fresh to his yellow bird.
a peculiar feathered friend who found a perch nestled where the pole met light, well, half-light as it struggled to illuminate the lives left behind by economic rewind and prepared paychecks to keep in-line the ones who had to make it to the end of the row
a distant connection undefined, interspecies, yellow bird stared straight, their eyes catching
he fumbled a tweet sound from lips left without water, yellow bird cocked her head and riffle fired a ‘good morning’
he replied, in english, he figure she’d have to learn to discern the chopped sounds stumbling as pleasantries were exchanged
‘will you be my…’ barely met oxygen when she swooped close and led him down blocks built for ‘others’, this was new
gliding freely, from corner store to school door they followed nothing and found no floor his heels hardly hitting a ground where lines were found, outlined cousins and sisters bound, street names and histor-ies to protect and divide, relied on boundaries and lies that trap and bind our senses
there’s no mystery
it’s the songs we hear when nights are blistery, do they keep us calm or awake, waiting to take this piece of cake promised to us once a year
she led him back to the porch
not a spark, a roaring torch kept him warm and would help inform the decisions left to lead him through the dim lit days
she’ll come back
my morning stream 