Archive for May, 2012

May 31, 2012

People Who Forgot on the Other side of Town

Get angry.

Get happy.

Get real.

Get fake.

 

People do that.

 

Get up.

Get laid.

Get excused.

Get a date.

 

People do that.

 

Get love.

Get hate.

Get rich.

Get milk.

 

People do that.

 

-Get that?

-Get it.

 

People do that.

 

Get starlit skies covered by rain.

Get clouds at a wedding.

Get sun at a funeral.

But are we forgetting?

 

People do that.

Ah, now we remember.

People do that.

 

Get lost.

Get found.

Get on.

Get around.

 

People do that.

 

Get peeled.

Get flaked.

Get lost.

 

Take a break.

 

Get took.

Get take.

Get steak.

 

Mistake…

 

People do that.

 

Its sunny out side so go jump in the lake.

May 25, 2012

Transparent Agenda (for readers only)

Like subjects or not, its all we got, so we must work with it.  Without there is nothing, with there is vague absence.  Life is full of gifts to label.  Why not start now?  

Forget what you said, I won’t.

It was like this:

Extrapolate, divide, consume, instigate, exploit, and control.

Over eggs again, over easy.

If you won’t sleep with me I will find someone who will.

-We did.

-I mean fuck.

She said and said she didn’t.

Exclamation Smiles!

Own your own.

On your own.

Manipulating all as to bury in a hole.

Open ground, open flesh, or vise versa.

Closed minds and clouded sunsets.

Beyond them while front and center.

Absent minded and clever.

Alleviated miss-guided miscreants.

Misinformed ill-tempered.

And out of touch.

And longing for touch.

No love.

No rest.

No time.

All of the above.

trusting all, believing none.

No self.

No respect.

All stressed.

All of the above again.

Wake up.

Move on.

Move out.

Move forward to the next verse.

Curses, you JERK!

Indulge…  notice the birds eating seed on the pavement trekking to the Library…

In search of words, position, and silence.

Left speechless with little concern and a positive outlook.

May 20, 2012

Truly Disparaging Realism (Because)

You are 20 something, beautiful, fruitful, ashamed, and living with family; can’t even lift a finger to explore, can’t even imagine.

That’s why.

The world is your oyster, or rather your scapegoat, or rather anything you make it, or rather anything you make up and believe.

That’s why.

You are 65, a smoker for decades, you prefer Pepsi to Coke, even after the diagnosis, and have been dead for 3+ years, no more birthdays or hugs.

That’s why.

You are pink, poor, struggling, and racially profiled because of your colored past and attitudes, yet expecting nothing.

That’s why.

You are blue, rich with knowledge, opinionated, and racist because of your history, and you still feel wronged, hypocrite.

That’s why.

You are a self-proclaimed transparent, apparent, and you get caught up in some lies.  There is not stigma like no stigma.  Just digging holes, by and by.

That’s why.

You are a young child, thirsty from a beating, and you can’t reach the top of the counter; for even a towel of ice, or a phone; that which couldn’t stop the swelling in any case.

That’s why.

You are shut in, taught that everything you see is all there is to know, and you can’t interpret ideas to natives of a different land, so you sigh.  Narratives of naught, of absence.

That’s why.

You get agitated at the smallest details that would be nothing at any other time, any other day; warm droplets slide down your face, as they should have many times before.

That’s why.

You are fucking everyone and still alone; prone to an existence of mental solitude.  Geniuses find it tough making friends, but that’s just a statistic.

That’s why.

You exist in a constricted reality; a conclusion, expand on that before you realize…

That’s why.

You are God, you are the Devil, you are blind, you are enlightened, you believe, you find that unbelievable, you are alive and you are dead.

That’s why.

Haven’t you noticed?  We told you, we tried.

That’s why.

That’s why.

*(excuse me, but this is for anyone who has an excuse, or a “just because”, or a bad attitude, or a problem that is created within oneself.)

 

Some people can only handle the truth when it doesn’t effect their imagination.

Grasp that idea, and run with it into sun soaked fields.

May 17, 2012

The Unimaginable Event

*Hey Little Man!

How can you stand it?

Knowing, maybe not owning, the fact that I’ve planned this.

Lost control and now you sit damaged, Goddammit.

Exhausted and ravaged; lungs expanded and contracted.

Breathing, physically feeling disadvantaged.

Off course and underprepared, nothing, yet, about you is shrouded, stares glared.

Hey Little Man!

Lost all hope, pififul use of pity, did she get with thee?

Highly doubted.

Did she miss me?

She sits with me, you see?

She knows, she tells, she looks with eyes misty.

Challenging the witty, can’t even mention those who can’t hold a candle.

Blow. 

Hey Little Man!

Your girl is in love with life and freedom and, most of all, happiness.

She loves it half to death, and its real, care to wage a bet?

We lounge on clouds all week holding hands, secretly in our heads, peacefully, I suggest.

I won’t get on one knee.  I am silent as she chats you up on the phone. Finger to her lips, she says shhhhhhhhh.  Hands on her hips, she doesn’t mind, the feeling is mutual.  We don’t mind; a Nihilist’s attraction.  

Hey Little Man!

You are not little in stature, only emotionally, bulbous and plastered, physically underkept; natural disaster.

Fucking realistically, I apologize sort of for vocabulary brutality, but it is a reality that cannot be changed, such is the gravity of situation.

Fate.

Trashing those about you to elevate your ideals and appearance, maybe, I beg not, self-worth.

And you call them friends.

And they call you names.

Your high quality gene make-up is hanging forever on the Clearance rack, clear it to the back.

Me:  On track, and out of line, I guess.

You‘ve taken good care of your body.”  -Casino Royale

What about your mind?

Hey Little Man!

It is clear to see, I take the hint, I don’t want to be what exists in your stint.

I see you; purposefully wasted, date belated, presence faded.

And I still write.

And I still drink.

And I still do yoga.

And I still stay fit.

And I still meditate.

And I still expand my mind.

And I could go on.

And I am still here.

Know your enemy, you are my nemisis.

Where does that leave us?

And what with?

Inflict damage mentally and physically to the enemy; discouraging them softly with kindness and attrition. 

Hey Little Man!

Bastard to love.

Running to and fro, giving up everything to appear high above those you know.

Small mystery, you couldn’t accurately describe me precisely to my excitement and advantage.

Hint:  White-sort of red, 5’9ish , around 175, drunk and violent, with equanimity behind the eyelids.

(But if you want more description check out my other blogs:  dirtyterry.wordpress.com, Mindinversion.net, if you can manage.)

Small-time someone, I guess, from some big city vs. rural kid from a village sitting pretty with your sissy or your misses.  

It really depends on the day.

Hey Little Man!

The facade is over, the charade is up, the noose is out; loose til taught with your flesh’s touch.

Caring too much about the trivial I pardon to beg, and all this was found out when your girl made me ***s.

Carrying no hatred, aggression, or ill will.

No lie.

Pay attention.

I just thought of you and I know you think of me still, get the message?

“And I’m jumping in your bitch if she had a prayer.” -Lil Wayne

The most dangerous thing in the world is something you don’t understand, something that is so curiously out of your grasp.

Something so fixating and still, that is ubiquitous and never out of existence.

You think, you sit, you stare.

You lose yourself, you lose track of yourself and there is no real time to face the facts.

Figure out the facts and the details, be honest with yourself and worry about you and yours.

Stop focusing on others when there is so much to fix with yourself.

Truly.

Make yourself better and you will be making everyone else better.

I try.

*the events, people described, and times within this story are completely fictitious and made up, so let it go.

Poof!

***

I still sit up in the night to sleep talk.  She told me I stare into the dark corner.  I am pretty determined.

May 12, 2012

We are Lovers/Blurry Reflection

This is to my friend and lover, and I never thought ill of her at any time.

***

This is to my friend and lover, and I have never thought ill of her, and I put no one above her.  We are lovers, we are lovers.

Woman, Ms., lady, girl, you are real, you are so undistracted by factions of attraction.

You are so sincerely honest, I don’t even have to ask for truth, its accomplished.

 

Done.

 

No set backs from day one, just progressive action and satisfaction.

Just kick back, relax and have fun.

 

Really there are few others and if they exist they have others.

Making life so easy, all the hard stuff that you see on t.v. just happens so easy, believe me.

 

This is to my friend and lover, and I have never thought ill of her, and I put no one above her.  We are lovers, we are lovers.

Sleep for hours, sleep for days, and sleep for weeks.

(Maybe even sleep together in the ground.)

We don’t even need to speak we can say it in the sheets; keeping it discrete.

 

This is to my friend and lover, and I have never thought ill of her, and I put no one above her.  We are lovers, we are lovers.

We can exist so closely that no one can come between us or so far apart as we don’t exist; to anyone else it would be leaving.

Held together as a ship on calm seas.

 

In agreement that life isn’t the cheapest.  Time to live it for the moment take it in, focus.

 

This is to my friend and lover, and I have never thought ill of her, and I put no one above her.  We are lovers, we are lovers.

Smiling forever; that is normal.

Never see her frown no one could ever bring her down.

On the brink of laughs, elation, and an epiphany:

 

I guess they don’t make em’ like her anymore.

 

This is to my friend and lover, and I have never thought ill of her, and I put no one above her.  We are lovers, we are lovers.

Just friends, just friends we attempt to be, but we tempt the friend we with sexuality.

Just friends, just friends turned lovers and we sit and talk with each other like we just met or something other.

 

This is to my friend and lover, and I have never thought ill of her, and I put no one above her.  We are lovers, we are lovers.

No more bad times and no more bad spots, we get lost in thought.

 

This happiness isn’t bought.

Ubiquitous, through life, and not lost.

 

I can picture her face in the distance…

We had just met…

 

And then I woke up.

And then I woke up.

And then I woke up.*

 

 

 

*I hate alarm clocks.

May 7, 2012

Gone From My Sight

He has been out of the picture for some time now, enough to slightly forget the sound of his voice.

We hug and we embrace, but remain tacit in the absence.

Crumpled paper builds as dust does in the void, pictures hang and wilt.

 

Tomorrow is another day.

 

Things just aren’t as clear anymore.

He wore flannel and smoked cigars as he drank coffee out of a cylindrical container.

Hey forayed lumber with an axe, present happy dog at his side.

He drove tractor until he was entered into the hospice, his garden still produces.

 

We forget technology when it comes to capturing the norm, things we will miss.

Voices we might forget, facial expressions of bliss.

We forget, we forget.

 

Film everyday conversations, ask future questions.

New inquisition of the average; boredom doesn’t seem so trivial when its absent.

Times have changed.

 

Names, dates, and events scattered and deformed, discolored, and depreciated; news to who?  It won’t be news to you anymore. 

 

She sits and wishes to join him; bedridden, in an empty shell of family epicenter, alone, pseudo-distant relatives approach.

Business is closed, which once flourished, forever.

She wishes the children back home, but they must go.

Alone isn’t alone as we know it.

 

Leave me alone!-don’t ever wish that…

 

I pray for the opposite of longevity.

No abundance of years after our loved ones die.

She said she lived through 2 husbands and the rest of the family.  I told her she still has her cat, the dogs,  and us kids.

 

And then I thought about that list and the order.

 

***

 

The black gnarled-haired cat lounged ever close to her face.  The room was dark, even though the sky was clear the shades were drawn.  Yellowed from smoke and browned with dust, the blinds hung undisturbed as soldiers protecting.  Even though the temperature was pleasant the heat was on, yet not the fireplace.  That labor of love had vanquished with the death of its proprietor.  No more splitting logs for fire.  Humidity drew closer to the bed, and she still covered herself in blankets purple in color, with designs of exotic creatures embroidered on the top most parts.  She would never travel to see them in the wild, those animals would never know her face.  She remained fixed, as happy as she could be, helpless and frail.  In solitude she sat, sinking ever farther into her bed.  

May 6, 2012

Minnesota Lite (excited to be a part of something)

Happily residing resident of the constantly overcast.

6 months of coats and 6 months of heat rash.

 

Raining on parades, other days hiding in the shade.

 

Car is frozen to the ground.

We bike now.

We can’t laze.

Car is unbearable AC is broken down.

We bike more now.

We can’t laze.

 

Batteries in this weather hardly function.

Hit the button-always pressing buttons.

Wearing so many layers you can’t even run in.

Can’t even function.

 

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

 

Not a likely middle medium between seasons.

Numb feet and toes; bodily treason.

Still we stay and we don’t really need a reason.

There is no reason when it’s freezing.

 

No Coast(!), representing everything and all.

We mean it.

No coast, replenishing while mentioning many things in the blessing.

We mean it.

 

Extremely rough rugged and mangled with a hint of angel.

In the summer trees are green, walking through the woods, cockeyed look, while the lit cigarette dangles.

Many keys on the chain, walk, and you can hear them jangle.

 

Smoke trail for miles, can you follow?

 

We’ve got places to be, we’ve already been there.

We’ve got things to do, setting precedence with time to spare.

We’ve got to be the most vocal and forgetful of those who seem to care.

 

Home state nice, paying homage.

Home state nice, we promise.

 

Sleep deprived not really, won’t even mention it.

Hit the snooze and forget.

Sane and stable running for president.

Shave the stubble; presenting the present.

 

Labels assuredly broken like a wallet.

Come across as sly, see the bluff and call it.

See the bluff?  I am on it (locals of La Crescent can appreciate).

 

Smiling ear to ear babies bottom smooth.

We drank all night, and it was rude.

Shaved it off this morning with a spoon and some juice.

 

We don’t rush to the loudest heater in the efficiency.

We close the windows when the temps get near below 50.

Shirtless above 60.

 

And for all the alka-selsors and cold Celcius you couldn’t move me out of it just for the hell of it.

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