Don’t Follow Us

​Traps aren’t always screaming from the depths of nadir. Surprisingly many are dressed as treasures, some even hidden inside ones so true. Seduced and blissed for a moment. Vertigo from angles miscalculated. 
Broken hearts, choices magnified by greed and preconceived need. Some scenarios are simply better, as intriguing mysteries. As time will fly, journeys always muddled. Can you hold on to integrity? Or at least grow from follies before they burst into tragic ends.
Dismissing definite needs because the discomfort looms. A mistake that scars forever.   The ones we love hurting. Question if we ever cared. Scenes grow ugly, from the hell made, just for lacking the metal originally…. To work it through.

Broken hearts, choices magnified by greed and preconceived need. Some scenarios are simply better, as intriguing mysteries. As time will fly, journeys always muddled. Can you hold on to integrity? Or at least grow from follies before they burst into tragic ends.
Respect lost, many of us praying it’s not too late. Best thing to learn from us…is do the exact opposite. Don’t care if it’s basic. Have a foundation steeped in love be and discipline. The cool twists are damages later…..run like hell.

Broken hearts, choices magnified by greed and preconceived need. Some scenarios are simply better, as intriguing mysteries. As time will fly, journeys always muddled. Can you hold on to integrity? Or at least grow from follies before they burst into tragic ends.

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Sunday Morning

​Waiting in this room so eerie. What should by all accounts be an ordinary night. Crisper than a hard apple cider. Somehow we’re all out playing Nostradamus. The world’s getting crazier, and our bodies melting into a frigid slumber. Only thing that seems to matter, are scores, petty issues to settle.
I don’t care about who wears the mantle. We all know who really owns the crown. Talking about what kind of world in another Olympiad. I’d like to make it to smile another Sunday morning.  Coffee and croissants prepping to hear the word.  Even football feels a bit secondary on a truer, grand scale.
Relationships are no longer like Ashford and Simpson, many make one long for Al and Peg Bundy. Our dealings outside one another, deadlier still. Craving food and hard medicine. Most days demand to reach optimum levels of piggishness, in order to feel right for a shot moment in time. Shame hits hard as hell later. Worried like crazy can we escape and clean up and get cleaned up this time.  Hoping to never see the absolute limit of human insanity, inhumane by definition, easily triggered even by minor tweaks and demands. Who’s right about whatever, so many wars over ideologies and stances….just to seem clever. 

I don’t care about who wears the mantle. We all know who really owns the crown. Talking about what kind of world in another Olympiad. I’d like to make it to smile another Sunday morning.  Coffee and croissants prepping to hear the word.  Even football feels a bit secondary on a truer, grand scale.
I’d like to feel free one day will it be Sunday? Hoping like always it’s not too late, somehow knowing I’ll dance like a fool to ponder this madness again. Keep on going, as long as there’s a glimmer, there sure is a chance. Inhale and feel the spirit of loving. Let’s picture everyday like Sunday morning.

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Flair 

​Another late night, vibe sess.  Creative flows are the best. Lately life feels like a gauntlet blowing like an obstacle course in the military’s basic training. Gaining? Still don’t fully know. Better than certain nothingness by staying the complete same. Not fighting for your convictions and being true blue, all the way, flipping lame. I promise I’m not spinning game, I don’t do faux news. I do real grooves, and try to cook, tho lately my attempts have me cryin’ the blues. It’s cool, and where I’m penning from I promise is not normally my creative place. This time of night I’m normally in outer space. Though I admit, it’s kinda gnarly, omitting and expressing, both art, and exit-ology. Trying to read lately has been a trip through futility, and the quickest way to kill the thrill in me, is yo day I’m good for nothing, lacking completely. I know, dorky, insecure, paranoia talk. Obsessed with mastery over something, I swear, social media is compulsive gambling for those of us who think we’re smart. Getting into warfare that’s without care. Stinks madly, our souls are starving,  eating GMO holograms, and none named Jem. Set up, not gonna win. Channeling with our egos to won some argument a child in a broken home or a senior missing a home would want to slap us silly. Many of us are behaving sickly, and it’s putrid. Embarrassing, gotta own it and flip to heal our spirits and each other. Who else wants to enjoy all good things everlasting? It can be. Not just a dream. Whoa Nelly, my tacos tonight were fiyah, yeah, my ego won’t allow to say otherwise. My timeline and real life, jammin’ fighting spirits and nice, cool cats. Many of you guys are all that. Saddens were on.many different pages, being dealt different wages, tempted to fly to Vegas. Want a drink so bad, and a smoke. Resist and feel flyer on the other side….yeah my own thang. A nice swang. No suit is going cramp on my days. After the storm, we’ll sprout our gardens again six ways to Sunday. Wish I could have some of you over, then again it’s not time, my mind is not so right. Day dreamin’,  night beamin’ talking in jazzy ways, having fun. One day seeing peeps we never thought would come again. Candy. Don’t be toxic, no feenin’ for likes or cyber hugs because real ones are better than drugs completeness is sweetness. Hopefully one day I’ll hear the creator express he is proud, instead of spinning my wheels being absorbed in my own maddening ideologues. Not afraid to see someone else being praises because I’ll be refreshed and full already. Being happy for us as a universal family. Turn on Paganini, and off Lil Uzi. I don’t think it’s perverse, I already hear Biggie ready to curse , crazy mumble jumble, bungles in a psycho jungle. Never thought I’d give Jethro Tull a rumble. Hope you guys are fully breathing, unlike Duncan Sheik, because as a buddy of mine once said, make believing is our own kind of deceiving. Pray, don’t give it away. Put up with, don’t scoff and spit. Make art, not pierce hearts with darts. Make love not war. Forgive, don’t keep score. Make relief, bathe in humility….don’t hold it in, and be detailed so arrogantly. 

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Twisting Tumult

​Funny how funky our lives are, as we twist and turn in our own whacked out minds. Too easily forget there are many more around with the same rights and desires, just different methods, and unique stories. In the middle of the night, feeling uptight and out of mind, a call is made, from someone needing far more compassion and loving than I do, not really reciprocating at the time. Did a bit too much whine. Helped out I did, but it was pitiful the effort. 
All in my head, why? So tired, so bleak, achy, hurt, hungry, hold me, love me nurture me. Whoa! I already know. Totally flipped. So many giving all they got not going to cater to this me, me, me ish. A change of diapers? Yeah, deserve that one. The ugly truth, ascending to the next phase isn’t always sheer bliss and fun. Cold rain feels like tons. I swear I don’t want to ever make fun of someone else swimming in their feelings again. It’s the hideous idiosyncrasies of toxic codependency. Throw out the trashed up ego brattiness I wish I left in the dust back in childhood, then high school days. Sometimes gotta eat it, cause it was lame. My best bid to thwart  my Achilles heel. To grown and learn not be consumed by shame. If people in worldwide struggles can rhumba in the rain. O at least should be able to walk.
What an experience, delirious. More events shift, and times flow. Season to season, moment to moment. Each thing I felt was concrete fact, each theory I just knew would stand in tact. I don’t know, in fact, I almost have thrown it all away, trying to impress and be brazen each day. Gonna  do what I can, make integrity stand, with my own band. Embrace the experience like Jimi as a student. So many great teachers, voices with different twangs and fresh sayings. Ideas as crisp as fruit from it’s mother plant. With grace and a higher plane of understanding, this journey will richen, outstanding. 

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Floetic Flakes

​Gloomy weather, gloomy states.   Wanna crawl in a fetal place and moan, “Give me a break!”

Needless to say, with warts and blotches that cannot be faked. Performances and acts have been far less than great. Wanna skate through in maniacal haste. 
I apologize at this time for the weakness of the bars; remember the days when floetists spoke without a care how ridiculous or silly, but the spirit was kinda schemxy as their organic feels hit for reals. Talent was crude, heck maybe offense to our artistic brood. Just flow with it, roll with it. Go all the way Raspberries with it. A

Raspberry sorbet, or mocha latte. A decadent croissant, already feeling lively, hoping to sprees a bit of cheer, even with the holidaze burning and…so clear. 
Sounds all.the way silly, but speaking no lies. Man I need to detox this state that shocks. Everyone’s grouchy, the food so rich but way too dirty. And hates our waistlines too. Nothing around is clean except is original and free. The answer is not in any flag. Feel like playing tag with each issue, almost our if tissue. Nor much utopia if you’re raised with the idea you’ll never belong. Your ideas are gone and inherent identity is all wrong. Last time I checked our water is meant to pure, fresher and shared, not compromised or modified. Part of me wants to hit up a mission. Okay, all of me does. Hopefully opportunity knocks . The details are dicey . the heart isn’t icy.. Hard hits and action, maxing and maybe screams of joy especially when canines rock the Palousse . Hope it all rocks our, for you and yours, and when some people come to knock on your door. Listen….it may hit just right. Balance and beauty the mix it stays, encompass as much as you can cusp….informed and flowing freely, not soggy and floored. Peace out.

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Rage Against The Beast

​Insanity reigns. Obviously drained, the United Stakes of American pain. Choosing sides, expurgating different minds ruining a false sense, of cloud nine. Headbutts and anger , all the rage. Men vs women, race vs race. Let’s be real. Love vs the twin atrocities of apathy and hate. The pride and prejudice of men, feeding dressed up snakes. Can’t believe, who’s held up as great.  Mentally Ill and bogus thrills. The most warped of people have voices. I’m here to listen. But I refuse to listen to more shame, gate and pain. Ridiculous my skin, or history with sin, defines the destiny, not good enough to win. 
The crux of it for the lot of us, the torture of swings of a pendulum, crying for thrills and attention, a toothache  not wanting to mention. Battered like a brawler, gauging time. Demons in suits on one end, demons in front trying to get inside. I refuse to adhere, they get no cheers. Tired of the fears and thoughts of scorn and fields of statistics, don’t want to be the next Judas, Bundy, OJ, or anyone with no soul. And no orange, psycho twister is going to claim any piece, in the end, he nor his puppet masters will win . This binge of ignorance….supremacy? Of what? The most foolish of fanboys and girls trynna run a world, guess what, about time yo start over, crimson and clover, smells so good over and over. Relax and embrace Orion’s theme, feel the easy breeze of a dream, where death and debt no longer connect. Just bliss and beauty, and we all love and embrace wonder and the only flames will be campfires, wood stoves, or lights at night. Absorb the stars and celebrate the end of the fight. Love you…good night.

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Soul Survival

​High times, high crimes, living on the line. Never enough balance to keep away the dregs of darkness from attaching and swaying minds. Panic, hot flashes of anger. Pettiness being a sport, and the ones perched aloft, just blatantly, frankly, and profoundly don’t give an inch. Yeah, a real sinch. All the good sense forced to ride the bench.the most valued position on earth has been handed to an orange man, with a propensity to ban. All choice thoughts. And all choices.  
Wildness is reigning but I promise when it’s all over, beauty and peace will supplant with root. Listen to the better angels and know when not to tangle, these times are enough of a war. Wages for choices depend on what the aim is, power belongs not to the abyss.
The tiny things can expand to the grandest of situations, positive or negative. Just like neurons or atoms. Difficulty to fathom? Study up, pray up, above all stay up. Mind games save for puzzles, in real life they’re just a shame,l. The dementing of man and a not so merry band of eroding loyalty, faulty ideology, rigid thinking, ego bloating, heart breaking, soul sinking. Easy to shrink or embrace, I hate this race, nothing but rats and judgmental cats. Funny, very few of us can say we’re heroes. The urge to cave feels grave. Thankful for pulls to get right back to a safe space. Ease and let what is nurturing fall into place,  reading stories, weaving tales. Crafting goods. Cleansing and feeding with nutrients that are heaven sent. The sky blue or Cool, damp Grey. No it doesn’t stank it feels pure. Anything leading to nirvana keep seeking. I definitely will, all the I’ll, no shame, apologies with heart are never lame. I guess fame is a pipe dream, the more I see….it makes me happy. Rather die than be a blight. Make deals real, scars heal, celebrate the Seahawks with a corona and some cool cuts.
Wildness is reigning but I promise when it’s all over, beauty and peace will supplant with root. Listen to the better angels and know when not to tangle, these times are enough of a war. Wages for choices depend on what the aim is, power belongs not to the abyss. … They don’t want us except as trophies. Steering clear of the brood. Let it rich with peace, feed the sheep. The wolves have feasted enough. Feels good to know there’s greatness on the other side of crazy. All we gotta do is survive one day to thrive. Good hopefully make it all in stride.

Wildness is reigning but I promise when it’s all over, beauty and peace will supplant with root. Listen to the better angels and know when not to tangle, these times are enough of a war. Wages for choices depend on what the aim is, power belongs not to the abyss.

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