Friend and moments
Time and history
What changes ahead and lies behind
Can be one great mystery
From meeting to realizing
From analyzing to growing
Friendships have a way of outlasting
While the mind keeps going
But at some point distance can be too great
Challenges and differences to obtuse
That is when some friends just have
To cut loose
But friendships change as do all living creatures
If history be true
This surely it will teach us
Fast impact
With little for sustain
Sustenance or compounded frame
How can we be so quick
To change
Change judgement
Words
Rearrange meanings and then
Come back to the same
What is it that can revolve
A door then disappear in moments
How can this happen overnight
Into the bright light
No one has it right
No one has it right
I cry cowardly over my leather shoes
The moan of hateful speech
Beacons a new wrath
The exotic clover has grown
Dried up and shriveled
Bequeathed
For the next generation
A sensational generation
My hope and dream
So I do my part in planting hope and optimism
Even in this world of ever deep division
Our hopes and dreams
Bequeathed from our fathers and mothers
Have been squandered away
On cheap things
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
“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
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
It’s that determined feeling
The sweet ambition
The fantastic touch
The plausible idea
Warm to talk to
Improving the rush
To the fingers
Head
Arms
The rush of the moment
PHOTO CREDIT: EVAN PERIGO
In a nebulous state of mind
The concluding chord rung out
Wrung out
Fascinated by the quick sequel of progression
How one planned moment
Moves to the next
A grape plucked from the tree
Quickly becomes a past tense
Cattle that pine for the open fields
Excellent presentation
Not quite overstated
But rather I am fascinated
That now a moment planned now is
More present a moment unknown
A hat floating off the cliff
Taken in
The borrowed riff
The rally cry of the tired
A worthy cause flamed out with vigor
Passing floating rolling
I have tried
To do good
Good to be undone
So much has to rely on a rally cry
When your tired
And lonely
Not alone
You feel sad
Disconnected from the world
How did it work out not the way it was
All planned
A plane in flight unmanned
The plane now is in the final descent
It will land
How
Unknown
But through all of this
I
We
Have grown
Grown up
So here we come
In 4 minutes I will attempt
To write words
Strung together with
Some meaning
My eyes are stuck to the screen
Gleaming
Written in an attempt to say
What I have postponed along the way
Returning to ritual
Feels good
Yet not unusual
A Cup of Songwriting 