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Viewing 10 - 18 out of 121 Blogs.
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"Memphis Beat..."
I've been in Bars and watched and listened
to life passing by... both sides of the counter...
what is and wasn't and so many wanna bees' never-were's.
Life tastes more sharply
when you stand on the blisters
of all the pavements you've wandered.
R & B isn't blue - its red and rare,
raw as hell... charged with clues
only bought by life and its passing
and grasping and wish-full-wanting...
dirt-gound-life-bound-heart-twisted
and chewn, spit out deep-far-and-hard
at a moon that cares less than the damn eyes
damned eyes - crying so hard a breath away...
...and the packs of the wanderers
flowing and floating... I's and pairs-of-more-just-I's
and some-even-paired, thronged and desperate triplets
tripping-yet-despaired in pair-less gatherings...
quart-lets, stare-lets, bare-lets, lost-lets
moving and swaying to a WANTING heat.
All them glasses sweating - leaking tears to bartops
tabletops echoing sympathetic wheres...
bar-rags wiping lives and the living away and away
shot-by-shot taken, heads and existence sinking
farther and further and ever beyond mere -
fingertips reaching - reaching shaking...
to empty dim-lit darknesses - racked and wracked
as laugher - so false even god joins in.
We/they/I share, sit - hoping with caught breaths
wanting in cacaphony-phonic silence as frozen moments
swirl, dip,and sway - and finding nothings -
no ones - chances slipping by-and-by-and-by
and its never your heart
wanted - just wanting and its only... silence inside
silence and waiting and watching -
life... another eternity... passing by.
And the beat-beat-beat
beat
Beat
BEAT
lives on...
Chris
Tags: Poetry, Writing, CHris
"Streetlights And Shadows..."
If I 'stretched'...
I could see your garden.
Its only right there
just a lil left of
yesterdays
when you wished so soft upon THAT star
...the one you cried about next morning
cause you didn't get that wish
that one lil damn wish
that NOTHING - in the overall scheme of things,
that one lil wish that was the WORLD
your world
and all the king's horses and all...
and you filed wishes under tooth fairie
and santa, and daddys that come back
and mommas that hold ya soft
and falling stars became tear drops
and whispers - more emptiness
and hope... just another fist
- just beating and squeezing
you dry.
And the garden in your soul...
grew... quiet, silent...
nurtured by saltless faultless tears
weeded, trimmed oh so lightly
year-by-year-by-year...
there
just to the left of yesterdays
right there hon...
I waited... told ya.
Chris
Tags: Poetry, Writing, CHris
"Dominoes..."
I didn't whisper your name in my sleep...
thought a bit
wandered a bit...
gazed out my inner window - a bit...
but I didn't whisper your name.
I watched the sun rise -
didn't blink
didn't flinch,
FELT the heat grow
as inch-by-inch
the slow burn felt good and right -
and night was day
- there is a heaven in hell.
No good deed goes unpunished
- we're responsible for the world
- we make momentary ~ choices
and the world turns and the dominoes - realign... just to fall and fall
and the last one over - kicks the first one back up
and on-and-on 'til
a new pattern is breathed into existence
and as the eyes open
the falling rebegins.
At points we cross
intersect
touch
intertwine and act
react
turn on emotional dimes
and wish we could breath...
and find we are - breathing
but not as we thought
or wanted
or to someone else's should...
just and barely breathing
gulping - fits and starts and ends
pausing and falling again...
...I didn't whisper your name in my sleep
but we both know
I don't...
sleep.
Chris
Tags: Poetry, Writing, CHris
"Moving Stars..."
Lightning bugs floating on the evening's breath.
Child's wonder
draws so deep and full.
Imagination flowing free -
faerie dreams
dancing in the mysts of heart.
Touchable stars...
...touching me.
Chris
Tags: Poetry, Writing, CHris
This came into being after viewing Kerry Dexter's article - "Voices - Road Songs". The thoughts that flowed coalesced into:
"Somewhere - Over The Rainbows..." Follow the yellow brick road ~
The story of life - our lives
are
all the roads so traveled...
paths of existence - of
changing times
displaced lives - echoes of fear
wanderers ~ lost and found
even freedoms - new days
new ways
ever and all ~ pathways.
What IS the distance 'tween now and then
as fading to the past
we stretch through all the futures -
'til all the who's we are
were
will be -
every me
tastes infinity.
Chris
Tags: Poetry, Writing, CHris
Everyone is human - we all make mistakes... yessssssssssss. ...And it has really become so politically incorrect and improperly inhumane for anyone to point out another's error. How downright CRASS it is to have someone - ANY someone - to tell YOU/ME that it (something) - ANY something - could have been done differently or better or with a squeeky-clean correctness or perhaps an attention to detail(?)...
Just to THINK about such-a-thing raises my blood-pressure... I made a mistake... I MADE a mistake... I - the perfect ME - made a ... mistake???? Why it would hurt my psyche so bad that I would CRY - hours, days, YEARS to be told I mispelled a word (even my name) - Oh-the-sheer-horror-of-it-all!!! I am or would or could be so embarassed by having it noticed that I am sooooooo imperfect a creature.
To think - if someone calls me on it then THEY become the bad guy - the uncaring clod - the gnome of ill-repute - the bearer of BAD will. Hmmmmm... and I have NOT said a single word about me (or YOU) going back and (god forbid) actually changing(???) anything - anything that I (or WE) in my/our infinite wisdom had pre-determined was going to be said/used or even appear just the way that 'whomever' was the I - mememememe-ME - wanted it to.
God it's good to always be right(!), AND its soooooooooo empowering! Type-ohs - even spellcheck failures, grammar, information accuracy, lies, mean-spiritednesses just to name a few are passed-over without a second or seconds thought.
...and what had any of the previous to do with the following? - that's up to you to figure out, cause I'm perfect ya know.
"What Isn't..."
I always wondered
why is right - good and correct?
Because that makes left - wrong and alone and
outside of the body of everything.
Right-handed assumes many things,
directional consequence - properness -
even to social positioning at functions,
deference...
Left-handed is a consequence of
ill regard - compliments,
distrust, difference, indifference, defiance.
Which is the right side
of the road - of ANY 'road'
when you don't know where HERE is
or even where THERE could be
or the body politic is different or
not or even maybe...
What is 'left' in a right-handed world?
...and what isn't?
Chris
Tags: Poetry, Writing, CHris
"The Compleat Curmudgeon..."
He's what you think - and
not...
He's what's heard in the silence
and seen
- yet missed
and lost...
gnarled, twisty-wicked-straight
above up-turned eyes and down-turned smiles
but less-than-gods' surmise
shaky-firm hands
lost-in-time mind -
body-by-mime-and-mirrors
eyes - afraid
to close...
and he KNOWS
whats all here
here - within
awaiting
'til found 'neath the skin
of wish and whim.
She's ragged dreams
left behind
- dross
Woman - his,
by nothing's ever simple while some things are -
and ever lost
and yet - really are but not -
and yet we knew...
and he did too
true and sleekly sleepy
slurry
dear, dear slurry - tied to his mind's streetlights-and-corners
sea-sounds and silly-sorry dreams...
'til found 'neath the skin
of wish and whim
time's turned corners
touches -
him
And where are the children?
Children,
children everywhere
but not a drop to - think
of untwisted clowns
and married-go-rounds
and silly laughter's tears leaked
on un-halo'd grounds...
Wishes and whispers
tears and fears
anger's echoes
broken
broken
ever-broken
hearts and hurts and lives...
'til found 'neath the skin
of wish and whim.
...and still the coarse satin sheens
of serious Meine
with unwrinkled frowns
each yet found
- ever and always -
found
'neath the skin
of his dream's wishes
and his life as he lives it's - whim...
He is -
the compleat curmudgeon.
Chris
Tags: Poetry, Writing, CHris
"Good Morning All..."
Today is May 21st, 2011... For some today IS the beginning of the end of their world and for others its just a continuing of what they have...
Places in the world hear gunfire and the sounds of pain. Other places exist with a palpable sense of fear and the flow of seemingly endless tears. There IS Hunger - with a capitol H. There ARE people who feel so negated by just living - life as they must - that everything has passed them by or been taken from them and now left them powerless - powerless to affect ANY change in their existence.
...And there is anger - unreasoning anger - hurtful anger - damnitall ANGER - so MUCH anger that people lash out without thinking of WHOM they hurt - even when its just themselves.
Some hope for the end of their world to happen - today... they FELT the NEED that the end of their pain and fear and anger and continuing sense of the 'wrongnesses' they experience with every breath, thought, look, and daily step - must cease - today. For some, they wish so HARD for their existence to cease that they pray to be 'worthy' of their Creator NOTICING them and that their God will grasp them to His bosom - BUT, even if He doesn't, at least their world will... end - their lives will end, their powerlessness - will end.
For Believers - the Gods' (of each of our professed beliefs) fingertips touch us throughout our lives. For the few that possess no personal deity - Destiny, 'Bon Chance', and even "being at the right OR wrong place... at whatever time it may be" is the acting 'force' determining their lives. Good, bad, indifferent - we as people BELIEVE as we feel we must. We want PURPOSE and a solid sense of direction. We want a personal sense of 'fairness' to be matched by the 'world' we exist within. We want our tears to make a difference.
I sat here and watched the sunrise and the sky slowly brighten. I didn't feel fear or anxiety... I just sat - and watched the present day's dawn - begin. I sipped some coffee - because I wanted to.
...I gave some thought about what a person would - perhaps should - do - if they had a choice about leaving someone (even many Someones) behind - today. Does Love understand "Til death do us part"; Who comprehends "Forever and ever"; Families broken by - unforeseen and unknowing choices that most believe they never had a say in the making; I thought about - people... life... loss... - and the birds sang and the morning breeze 'freshened'.
Chris
Tags: Poetry, Writing, CHris
"Today..."
Today I watched...
- my coffee got cold
again.
- at first the steam floated over the mug,
Over my hands,
over my world, my existence...
our
existence -
and then it expanded
and expanded... going opaque,
then clear -
the heat
my breath
our life
dissipated...
- I breathed -
we all breathed,
and chilled
cooled
became less
...and less
and all the moisture soaked into the air -
life being pulled apart -
existence
breath-by-breath
torn-asunder
lives passing, ceasing.
We vanished into time
- our time - as if it never were,
as if we - never - were.
The clear blackness
becomes a darker, thicker,
more coherent
- being
and each I
a little and little less
than each moment before...
'til there are no
moments...
or any moiré.
Chris
Tags: Poetry, Writing, CHris
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