Down to My Hands

Yearn for understanding

Learn from mistakes

Don’t be afraid of failure

This land comes with the breaks

Take a chance on hope

Uplifting interaction

My destination unknown

Strategy unclear

I will rely on what I know

Keep a good eye on what will become clear

From the veins running in my heart

Down to my hand

As a small child I was filled with hope

And still am today

Everday

I must move on into positive space

Remembering the words of a Poet great

The more you give

The more you create

It is not a well to be pulled dry

But reincarnated everyday

 

Keep the Car Running

Keep the car running

The faucet draining

Keep on keeping on with

What I have been wasting

In moments of reflection

Why do I put up these guards of

Protection

When I am the problem

And the solution

All in one small mind

Or large conclusion

Bluster

Unsightly unseen

Mightily obscene

Gestures of language

Encourage

Discourage

Mean

I have an objection to such limits

Of language

Interpretation

My own county

Country

Nation

How did words slip from

Meaning to mere

Reference

Indifference

How can it go from direct

To indirect and casual

Trivial

Is that what we have become

Seeking the words that have already

Been sung

A light I hope will shed a new perspective

Hoping that small bits of peace injected

We can’t move forward with bluster of hate

Discriminate

We must move forward together

And together

We will stand STRONG

 

The Wandering Heart

The wandering heart

Is a stranger in a coat

A scarecrow vintage and old

Left me many years ago

 

The wandering heart knows no home

Roaming the land looking for those it knows

But rather unknown

This heart I have

 

The wandering heart is a shed in the forest

Unattended and porous

Moss strewn floors

To young hearts it has been abetted and undone

 

My wandering heart grows cold

Looking for light in a dark circle of a world

Revolving on hearts pumping

Focused on a world of skepticism and critique

 

My heart is growing cold

 

 

 

Pray

Some pray for a raise

Some pray for a new car

Some pray for more things

Some for the night

Some pray to just stay alive

 

Some pray for a new insight

Some pray for power

Some pray for spring flowers

Some pray for the weather

While some pray for water

 

Pray for me

Pray for you

Pay to pray

On the radios too

 

Raise your hands for love

Raise your hands for awareness

Raise your hands to raise fund

Just raise your hands for fun

 

On the radio the ads blare

Telling us “BEWARE”

But to continue to pray

Pray

Pray

Scribble of a Stranger

Scribble of a stranger

No more similar than an unknown danger

Glistening on a November afternoon

The acoustics pronounced now

And fill the room

The wrong approach with the wrong tenor

On a Sunday evening I sent her

The notes of my love

Gentle free falling dove

Now in a moments reflection

Over the fence

Where the homeless used to live

A new breed of life rises up from the dark

Victorious in its wailings

Building new wings for sailing

The ingredients have baked to perfection

Or rather imperfection

While I uncover more hope than I realized

Through the eyes of a bird I now realize

Push on when the push is almost out

That is when it is needed most

Recall the Way Out

If I could only recall the way out

The way in was much more difficult

But the easiest seems now whimsical

Overbearing

The thicket of bushes on the left

When we entered

The gargoyle on the right

We passed some rock walls as well

Or maybe not

But somehow

We ended up here

Lost and wandering

Altogether hopeless romantics

Stuck in a world of antics

Critics

Hopeful

Deadbeats

How did we end up here again

Should we start over

Not an option altogether

We had better hope the sun will rise in the east

Set in the west

That will be our best bet

To find our way out

How to Win the Donald Trump Thanksgiving Argument: I Did and You Can Too!

“I just think he wears too much makeup…”

I responded soft and dejected. This to me was the Trojan Horse of all arguments. No one at the table expected this response from a college educated caucasian male age 30 with slightly graying hair. Immediately, it put me in an extremely shallow and “disdained” position as viewed by the others at the table. Exactly where I wanted to be. CHECK…

As the first responses quickly and fervently trickled in – “What!?” – “That is so shallow!” –  “You are mean!” and “How can you say that?CHECKMATE…

I think you know where I am headed. NOTE: for the rest of this conversation also refer to DONALD TRUMP = DON – this will add to the confusion at some point, guaranteed. I respond, “Don himself preaches that it is all about looks, right? I mean he himself has promoted this idea of looks first RIGHT!?” This perfectly misguided conversation is headed in the perfect direction. To which there are very few responses – this is after all the words and actions of the man himself which now they will be required to defend. The truth is this response is the ONLY response that your family members and friends have not prepared for this Thanksgiving. While they were spending all of their precious time preparing for the “intellectuals” so worked up over all of the REAL reasons that we oppose Don, just slip in with an argument that Don would actually make himself! This leads to what I call the “Feedback Loop” argument where the discussion must directly move in a circular manner back to the initial statement of disdain – in a direction which is very perfectly fitting and apropos. All you have to do is keep returning to this initial argument ad nauseam – without skipping a beat – until the entire table is vomiting their Thanksgiving Turkey and dressing from confusion and disorientation. “Don… Makeup… He said… Don… Makeup… He said… Don… Makeup… He said…” Drive it home and see the amazing results for yourself! Fun!

This idea that such shallow arguments, which Don himself made a cornerstone of his rise, have no such place at a table where we are trying to have a real discussion. Viola! Take the argument from here folks, you can thank me later!

Fuck it! 

N8

dt-thank

Lick Secretion

Lick

Secretion

A quote from the generator

Proud challenges

From the land of infinity

A bucket might qualify me for my job

Or it might just be a storage for the opposition

The cause

For me to stay

In the hall to clean the residuals

Unrest is an expression

That we must implore

 

Dairy Chief

The Dairy Chief doesn’t need any changes

Not looking for the next big development

Milking the cows somehow is just a bit irrelevant

A steward of the land with no need for innovation

No tariffs needed

Not too much frustration

It is implicit what his intentions are

Waking in the early morning hours

Tending the field and his cows

Bold yet not to be undone somehow

In the hostile words

He could give one less cow lick

Waking in the morning to babies colic ways

The dairy farmer just keeps moving on

It’s the sweet farm song