Aches and Pains

Aches and pains

Strange held hands

In a cold rain

Under red skies

Under falling leaves

In a lake 

Not a sea

The aches and pains

Cities and lanes

Riding in the cars 

Remain the same

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Transatlantic Split

The Transatlantic Split

Oceans divide

If we didn’t vote for this

Are we still on the wrong side

No tax returns

But we have a winner

“I won and that’s it”

Those statements don’t make my wonder

Any thinner

The President to all people

Not just your supporters and colleagues

C’mon Don this is not the minor leagues

Referendums and revolts

It seems we are coming loose at the bolts

A Transatlantic Split could arise

Good God

Good bye

Twin Flames

Twin flames reach up to the sky

Stretched out like two Great Danes

A wry gesture to a waning night

Love burns in his heart

For her

For love

For good

Souls entangled in this life together

No matter the weather

The twin flames reach for the sky

Day and night

The wind has no hope to blight this fire

For 24 hours a day

Blazing as if fed by turpentine

Love is fed by action

Defined not by material

But the ethereal

The twin flames

Him and her

Love

 

Here Comes 2017

Start the New Year

Pour the Coffee

Sweet grapefruit

With bitter ends

Sweet caramel sugar grains

The new year unfold in front of us

Like a vacuum sealed bag

Breaking at the seems

So it begins again

We plan something new

Something great

I hope to be a part of 2017

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

Wren of Premonition

A wren of the future bird

Eyes filled with glossy cover

Singing the notes of a future uncertain

Pulling back what remains in the dark

From a pulled curtain

The lazy have come into hold us

The land upon us

Troubled for profit withholding

The truth was never unfolding

A small drip from our brows

Idealistic until now

Strap the hood on and walk out into the cold

If we never try I guess we will never know

Never coming together

Never falling apart

We all now have to do our part

 

 

Mighty Unsightly

It’s an unsightly cause

Disturbed pieces of sand

Down to the singular stone

My own town can be mighty unsightly

Deceit is the instrument of choosing

While the others were out boozing

On the beach singing songs of love and longing

The fire lit up like a lamp on their faces

Spiritually free to be deceived

Totally

Those nights we laughed on the beach

Holding the sand between our feet

I dream of those moments you and me

But then sets us back to our new reality

It is perfectly imperfect ideally

You and me