breathe out...............

it comes to a slow screeching halt amongst the ashes of the aforementioned storm, words are not fit, lashed to a failing body, although able, a reckoning of the slow failing of health and wealth as crutches, ease of movement was once a drug worth fighting for, now could easily
be drifting out with the tide, out of the illusion of control, as if there ever was such a grip, luck, more like lust, pacing the planks watching the frost fade into water into the fog coating this last wintry day of 2011, thankful for all that is here and all that is to come and all that has been, the new year can bring promise of new love, new life, new way of living, a shrugging off of the tattered identities that fit so comfortably, but hinder growth, that is all that i could wish for
in this gray lit kitchen on an afternoon full of soft son snores and scratchy throats, a prayer for the living, a prayer for the dying, a beautiful wish...........................

spotlit fingertip..........

an emphasis on drama, maybe to stress the importance, maybe it is important, maybe there is nothing better to do, boredom has won the day and having filled a plate, can be passed around to be enjoyed by all involved, a long awaited for evening must be coming, there is no other explanation, or maybe this is the evening, the ground opens to take back or spew forth, equalizing the score, unequivocal, uninterrupted, unintended, there will be no night..............

a storm from within............

the forefront of forgiveness will be forgotten when time heals the salt in wounds, self infliction, sustained nihlistic impulses, a voice of reason in the wind. whispers of violence, pure but not clean, innocent if not acted upon, and then autumn rose from the listless days with a beautiful fury, the likes of which have not been seen in these parts for some time, the story has yet to be written........

coming up.............

not this thursday, but next thursday, the last thursday as far as thursdays go in october, this will be happening, free beer, come see................

ardea herodias..........

from here to there is a few more feet, an extraction from the head of another onto wood, a commission, a fine time had by all, now back to the grindstone..........

honey badger scrawled on a windshield is not art...........

but i am no expert, and for that matter why would anyone care? the trappings of class unrest are peeking around various corners of the country, and who could really be surprised at their arrival? the time has come for a change, although nobody in the narrow focus of the media has any ideas, therefore the protestant ethic will manifest itself in busy young hands and random acts of destruction, even if the "artists" are unaware of their motivations or maybe they are?...........

return of the dragon.........

the dredging of time, act of god interrupted additionally, stools still in woodgrain dream, delerium, lazy eyes breed uncritical mind, soupy slop on the forefront of every night................

longitudinal latitude..........

all washed out but the excitement remains, the newest of the new, credibility, crisp and clear on a sunned sidewalk, work days only remnant is sore hands and scuffed knees, value of time is unquantifiable...........................

true blue is the color............

we have all made our beds, we all make choices and endure the consequences, the comfortable chair of blame, wolf in sheep's suit, boxed in with only a mirror to talk to, the history speaks volumes of constant chatter, escaping into the gray void of subconscious noise lessons....................

another time another place............

there is a peace in surrender, the right time, right place, if there exists such a concept, all things coming together, conspiring in a whirlpool of creation, exiting the product of scattered, smothered and covered, can it be kicked...........

soft focus...........

last minute adjustment, askew, anew, these transactions as of late steeped in selfishness, the bony grasping for what may come into fleshy hands, void of much meaning except that of the hindsight made fuzzy around the edges with time.............

still........

a friend published a quote, words referring to the ties between one's identity and one's level of production, words which in themselves are meaningful only to the extent of one's connection to the syllables therein, a soothing sense of syntax which smoothes over the ragged inches of skin exposed to the elements, sitting still has never been so difficult.......................

an assumption of innocence........

an assemblage of noisy imagery and jittery thoughts rattles inside of my skull, the motivation is missing, left in neutral, shoulderbound, this colorful machine entertains, ahem, distracts from whatever it is, was and could ever be, i forgot that there is no tomorrow, the warranty is up................

reverb.........

share the stoke, it resonates today, as with the return of all adventures in the past a slow burning of desire still flickers, a sadness overcomes, the flame must be extinguished in order to achieve an equilibrium here, learn from the past, look around right now, but the future does not exist, do not be fooled....................

a new edition........

addiction to the addition and subtraction of satisfaction, to put it lightly, a saving of face and into and unto itself it knows no other, the nights of cool face breeze and oceanic lullabies are absent, replaced by the cold aches of back and shoulders, a sinking feeling of disconnection or just absentmindedly going through the motions.........

zig zig zag..........

the allure of the everyday, as seen through the filterless eyes of youth, absent of jade, absent of mind, a thorough evaluation without judgement, a return to home if you will, and i want to, but doubt the possibility of such............

rewind.......

the blurring of time is all the more apparent when we return the way we came, absolution and recognition, this is the way, if there is one, if there could be, within the confusion to clarity, passion, the undoing of what was.............

the inevitable push and pull...........

the ocean owns me, it's firm grasp only lets up for so long until it grabs firmly and pulls me back in, so goes the last months, so goes a life lived, worth every penny, every time..........

slow burn.......

the aftereffects of the shuffling days prove themselves in ways yet to be seen, there are hopes and there are dreams, each contained in it's own imaginative plastic wrapper, shiny and sweet, the papers will be signed and the deeds are done, there is too much space, unfamiliarity, the adventure is what it is, but when the sun sets, darkness erupts.....

trying........

an attempt to keep it positive is the best course of action, of course, but FUCK!, how does this triangle operate, one step forward, two back, and then one from the side, the work is salvation today, tomorrow i will hope that the pipes will hold, the simple things are of great importance in this menacing silence..................

the inevitabilities......

inching forward at another's pace, the results of one too few hours spent in the service of a few too many, which could be of anything or anyone, this night now passes and hands bring a slow burn of hope, the past is still alive and well but impotent in it's grab for attention, best forgotten, left for dead, much like the very ground underfoot, only now, the future............

the third..........

and so it begins again, five days in, dusty roads and mild weather, fair and mild, a recipe, the dreaded words have been uttered,"i want to go home", followed closely by giggles and laughter, hard to tell what is real, interpretation mostly, the services rendered as of late have come up mostly short, one could grow tired of that real quick like, the sound of loved ones breathing in the desert night erases most everything....................