Closing my eyes the vision is no longer in my mind
Days has past yet memories still flare from nowhere
The scent that lingered no longer permeates the psyche
Pictures worth a thousand words reminisce a pined apparition thoughts dwindle
Shattered pieces still not whole divided not defeated one day may triumph

Black & Blue
My heart, mind and soul are still feeling the bruise
Try as I might I just can't seem to let go of you
Words, thoughts, cenotaphs can't seem to disguise your demise
Etched in my mind for all eternity is the day I started missing you
Time will tell, time heals all, when will the hands of time lend her healing hands
Revere you I do, help me to wake up from this clouded state
I know now what you mean to me, I know now you meant those three words to me
Help me entomb the three words I can't let go, the three words strangling my soul
I miss you

I sit hear trying to write, yes I wrote hear as I'm listening to my thoughts and to the song. But I so wanted some flowing piece to appear but to no avail I just can't get seem to get in the poetic mood. But maybe I just need to get this out? To those who read, to those who know me yes this is coded a bit, possibly even a bittersweet irony or another Ahrenism/analogy…Currently I have a list of fifty five words that I'm staring at on this screen, but only one or two have been stuck in my mind for the past several weeks/months try as I might I just couldn't get them into anything special I've even tried the rhyming dictionary but nothing. Maybe it's a sign that I'm too complicated? Speaking of signs it's kind of ironic the many nuances I've come across in trying to find the write meanings of what I wanted to say. Is there some greater force at work here or is it just plain coincidence? I like to think of it as something of the nature of Karma, Chi, and The Golden Rule. For some of you that really know me and read my blogs I could go off on a tangent here with that whole subject matter, but I will say this that it is my belief that somewhere along the way "man" put a skew on it.

Harbor has been floating in my mind for a few weeks now it is defined as:
har·bor
N
1. part of a body of water near a coast in which ships can anchor safely (often used in placenames)
2. any place that is safe and sheltered
V
1. vt to continue to think privately about an emotion or thought for a long time
2. vt to provide somebody with shelter or sanctuary
3. vti to take shelter in a harbor, or shelter a ship in a harbor
But sometimes confused with port, defined as:
N
1. a place by the sea, or by a river or other waterway, where ships and boats can dock, load, and unload
2. a town or city built around a port
3. the waterfront area of a port
4. a sheltered place along a coast, where boats are protected from storms and rough seas
5. See port of entry

I'm not going to delve into the many similarities of these two terms but you'll get the general picture eventually. Among some other words/synonyms I've discovered in trying to get the write words were anchorage, bay, berth, cove, dock, haven, inlet, fjord, jetty, moor, pier, quay, sound, wharf. It's a bit paradoxical that a few of those words have different meanings other than how they relate to the previous to words yet even their different meanings are still relatable. I began this epic prose with the thought of searching for a safe harbor with the feeling of being lost at sea, yet I wasn't lost nor was I drifting. Yet still nonetheless I have had the feelings of the Siren's song luring me to shore, or a blast from a foghorn waking me up from an uncharted aspiration or even a mirage perhaps.

But a common thread to this water, it is an essential part of life, yet can also take life away. For the most part it is fluid, adaptable in a sense yet has many more ironic meanings in this context. I don't feel I've fallen overboard, nor do I want to abandon ship or even that I'm stranded on a deserted island hence I stumbled upon the S.O.S. "Message in a Bottle" song this earlier today. Upon trying to find a correlation with this song and what I am feeling it quite wasn't what I had hoped for as far as the songs history goes. However it wasn't released until 1979, which was a few years later than I had hoped for, but a marked moment in history. Then I see John Mayer recorded it in Birmingham Live 2002/2003. Somehow I seem to know somebody in Birmingham as I type and well 2003 really wasn't my year as well as the year the police got inducted into the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame. Very few will get these previous lines…It has been quiet some time since I wrote a note, well anything worth any true meaning other than a mini fume, poof up in smoke it went.

How in the hell am I going to finish this to make any logical sense? As I'm sure not feeling like I'm hanging out with the Captain Stubing, Doc Bricker, Gopher, Julie McCoy and Isaac Washington speaking of whom Captain n coke sounds good right about now?
Ahhh maybe I look to the stars for some Celestial Navigation to find my true North. Well maybe the cliff notes version of this could be summed up to this sentence of being up the shit creek of life without a paddle? FYI I never did use the real word to what I was writing about…and this is two off the GTD!

This was an old piece that didn't make it in here...or was and is lost in cyberland???


The crying wisp beneath my feet, the warm grains between my toes flipped the sands of time in my mind just like an hourglass. Each particle, each spec marks a moment, a memory of time flowing from one to the other the present to the past; shaping my life my mind.

One distant faint memory of times past has been stirred as I near the beach, the warmth of the day still lingering on the landscape as the orange glowing mass of the setting sun begins kissing the horizon. The steady sound of the surf washing the shoreline began drowning out the presence of the here and now. The gull's cries sounding like notes of snake charmers flute, hypnotizing me further back in time. The warmth of the sand under feet, and radiant sun on skin could feel the moist cool breeze blowing in off the waves. With its smell and coolness blowing my thoughts back to that night that one sunset that's but just a memory in time.

That night the sun's burning mass slowly deflating itself in to the cool sapphire colored waters. It's reflection shimmering, dancing off the tops of the waves. The cerulean sky with puce streaked clouds began to grow darker and the clouds less vivid. Murky waters began to swallow the sun taking the warmth of day with it. Cool still evening air began to change the waters edge taking with it the faint breeze of the day, the warmth under toe of bare feet in sand. The few cries of the gulls begin to die. Finally the sun dies another death as it does each day on the horizon. But just as a memory holds tight in thought so to are the last shades of the days light in to the now pale sandy brown sky.

I decided to sit to reflect my toes in the cool wet coarse sand near the shore.
The warm gritty specs massage my palms supporting my weight beneath my arms as I lean back waiting like I did that night. The distant chirp of the crickets, few lone melodic wails from the frogs, and an occasional solo hoot of an owl signaled the end of twilight. The rhythmic waters calm now still lapping the shore. The darkening metamorphic sky cloud free sky was almost a midnight blue.

From the corner of my eye I see a twinkle, turning to look yet no one there. Refocusing my gaze on to a star, I realize it's the first star of night. Wish I may wish I might that first star of night hoping for a memory of times past. The ivory moon so big and bold awoke yet again from its cyclical slumber casting a cool glow on the dawn of night. With the dawn of a new day in my mind knowing no matter how hard I wished then and now. That it was just me there alone waiting on the sands of time, knowing she wasn't going to be there then or now.

Lets face it folks we all have to wash clothes once in a while...Even if you try your darndest to not get dirty something always happens. Granted if you live in a glass house and try to wash you're either gonna be naked and vulnerable or you're always going to have something dirty for people to see?
Much of my true friends know I have tried to share my trials and tribulations to save them heart ache and pain and possibly some year in their lives they may live. We are humans, we evolve we nurture and need nurturing from time to time that's how we survive. But back to this whole laundry issue.
If some of you don't do laundry you may not get this. For some of you who know my analogies and me time to laugh your asses off.
So I try to do a pretty good job of keeping my clothes separated, lights, whites, darks, towels and my prissy ass white boy Egyptian Cotton Sheets ;) Anyways I could digress there… But lets say you accidentally get a red sock mixed in the whites and you bleached that load…your sock isn't red anymore nor are your whites white?
They're kind of pink am I wrong? But you can learn from your mistake and try and do a better job of presorting your load?
In addition there's bleach? After a few more times through the wash your whites are back to looking new. Maybe this is an analogy in an analogy but could "church" be compared to bleach, life to the whites and the devil to that damned red sock? Well anyways I do have a thing for bleach, no not in that sense. But I do have my sick blanket and if I get really sick I get out the soft bright thermal white blanket and cuddle up. So back to the wash we've learned what happens to whole load lesson learned??? What happens if it is the other way around? Meaning if a sock gets stuck in with the darks it turns dingy… I know I don't like dingy white socks? As sometimes we get judge by our outward appearances? You don't think to highly of people who have dingy whites or have pit stains on a nice white T? There's ways around that you can just go with a wife beater easy to wash, fold and more of them can fit in the wash. Heck you can even get colored wife beaters now to hide that dinginess what a bonus. But ultimately that sock may need to find its mate, or that the whites need to be washed together and the darks washed together as that is just they way they're made in essence it is their fabric, their being… But it is not always as simple as black and white? Sometimes the unmentionables need a little hand washing or done delicate on some things but if we had a bunch of those things we'd be doing laundry forever? You could pay to have some of those items done? To the cleaners that is…LOL I've also had this happen to me got a new towels and was told to wash them separate. Gee why's that? Cuz the fuzzies come off in the dryer and you can't really get those off…I had this happen to a fleece of mine once washed with a robe…Green fleece with red fuzzies doesn't look to hot…Never wore it again. Sometimes you have to take a moment and ask the mom or the grandma for some help with the wash. They've got some tricks up their sleeves from years of experience…I'm talking about some stubborn stains that won't go away… Try as you might with all the new fan dangled stuff off the shelf they just won't come out??? Learn from them or at least ask them for their help from time to time. Back to the message at hand and living in a glass house… Maybe people get jealous with what they see or the clothes you wear? I mean we all have our good days and our bad days? Meaning dressed to the nines and our scrunge/gruff days. But bottom line it is all about being comfortable with what you wear and dressed for the occasion from time to time as it is? Is imitation the best flattery? What is jealousy than? Is that why people say green with envy cause it can consume you and make you sick??? More to come stay tuned!!!

The Place

Not so long ago on a crisp bright afternoon in February I came to find a spot
Round the bend stood a distinguished Pin Oak the view reminded me of you
This really wasn't how I thought it should be in my mind was a different place
It was the best for all even thou they didn't mater as they had forgotten since the day
Shortly there after they said it was done I came to see my job was done
Nobody asked but all who wanted was that one place the one place to remember
Time passed days went by so did the months but my mind and heart did not forget
Still fresh in my mind the last time I saw you and said goodbye
Resonating in my ear that call that call those words I could bare to hear
Your day your day was heavy on my heart wanting to say two words to you
I should have stopped by for a visit just to say hi to wish you Happy Birthday yet again
Sorry to say it just wasn't they day even thou I thought of you often the whole day
Days went by the time was now as it truly was the day the day to say I missed you so
It was your day I was late this December day the sun slipping past the tree line
Coldness bit right through me as I found that bend I gazed upon the tree this was it
Snow was deep to my knees I walked were I thought you would be
Once near the base of the tree I looked as that was the last spot I knew you would be
No one else was here today just me and my red rose to signify my love for you
Didn't want you to think I'd forget so I dropped to my knees to find you
Twilight was fast approaching the earth cold and icy I dug here there everywhere
Frantic now I was confused my memory faded how could I forget you
Where in the earth could you be yet still in my heart my mind a memory of this position
Felling like a failure I had to leave but left a rose resting at the bottom of the tree
The moon high in the cloudy night sky the winds cut through me as I walked away
Tears rolled down my cheeks as all I could think about was how could I have forgotten
Forgotten that spot that is his for all eternity

Bits and bites through out the night

Entertain our brain with disdain

Buy lie live and die in the blink of an eye

In an instant our mind is swayed and made

Right or wrong our thoughts are gone

We have no say just sit back in dismay

Thoughts of truth be told is a myth

Anything more than a bite or bit

Doesn't matter as we think its just diss

Not that I want it all

Nor will I ever have it all

I pick up the phone to call

Never again can we talk about it all

The silence will never end

Gnawing at my heart the pain doesn't stop

I'd give it all away in a day

Just to say goodbye to you again someday

My Pop

 

Standing tall sentinels of summer's end

Wavering in the wind to the demise of the warm blue crisp sun filled sky

Harkened in the hallow of long cool nights to follow

Bright moonbeans changing leaves birds fleeting the days grow shorter

Night night falls earlier each passing face

Day day strugles to stay so warm an nuturing

Slowly mother earth goes into her slumber....

The days grow short and weary the night stronger and longer

Each passing the day the moon radiates in its phases just above the darkened horizon.

From a faint sliver, an amber cat's eye, to a warm glowing mass