Me, Myself and them

So I'm having trouble remembering other people's lyrics. Believe I'll open it all up to interpretation. Bar band as an art form? Hummm. My thinking, it's a bar right? Motion, poetry, taking chances. Blurry words. The point is to ride the wave. Multiply the energy. Can't be pedestrian. Nope. Tally ho!

Memo to the Tea party

For the first time on this blog, writing in anger.
Not becasue of defeat, not from jeolousy, not about dems and republicans for me...

What boils me is people's sense of entitltlment and lack of compassion, truth and the light that is all our lives.

You see tea party people, none of us owns any of this. The ground you walk on, the air you breath, the joy you feel, the tears you cry. It's all borrowed time. We are blessed to walk among our own at a moment of infinity. At any time it can be taken away. You matter not. You are everything.

More so, in this complexity of humanity that we have managed to weave and spindle into a tangled web of chaos. We somehow have fooled ourselves into thinking we are better than others, we are superior becasue of race, class, education, experince, wealth. This all is an illusion that you have created to please your own ignorant agenda.

If you have to give everything you own to better mankind, you simply do it. You give of yourself. Without question, without reward, without a sound. Mankind matters, you don't.

So the next time someone asks to help with those issues of race, class, education, experince, wealth. You do it. For I am you and you are me. No better, no worse.

Nothing could be further from the truth. What matters is fellow mankind. It's each one of our responsabilities to better mankind. Everyday people, everyday. plain and simple.

Marching of time

Not one of us are immune to the indignant measures of time. Not one. Wounds heal, but decay is always at work. From the moment we are born, we all march in that same direction. Time is relentless, brutal and certain. As if we are all being pulled to that same core, that same inevitability.

January

It's very cold. I can't stand it. There is no sun to speak of. No life source. I dread every moment. No wonder Spring is deemed the re-birth. Last night had to cancel a show. Took wife to hospital. Not in the best of spirits. I have these songs I need to get recorded. Focus on the job at hand. Fight through it.

Under a blood red sky

I begin 2013 with 2 followers to this blog...let's see what's in store. Day 1 of the year. A quiet morning with everyone sleeping. Sounds like the world was on fire last night. How could all these people be having such a wonderful time if I wasn't there? I certainly do not feel as if I am heading into my 50th year on this earth. 50...WOW I am amazed. Jesus I better figure this life thing out quick. So much to do....still

Baker's Dozen

Dec 31 , 2012 The dawn of 2013. Tonight we say goodbye to the calendar year. I normally say Fuck you to the end of the year. This year, that's too kind. I start 2013 with high ideals, though in less than ideal straights. I am driven, homeless and happy. All to some varying degree. I left an ideal opportunity in an ideal location. I can expect no less than misery from here. Yet, I find myself happier now than ever. By all accounts I should be a wreck. Maybe I am. Maybe I like it. I sing in bands, I try to write a little more. My family is together. My kids are great. I turn 50 in 4 months. FUCK! I am connected to something. Doing these gigs has opened me up to people who are truly alive. Their pulse bleeds onto me. Get's me through the night. It all is terribly strange. I wish not to understand, I am thankful for being alive. Well, kinda. I am in hell. But I belong here, so I so ok with it. A sense of place, ah 2013. I would love to speak of prosperity and hope and good things. But, fuck it, those things don't really matter. Tomorrow the sun will come up. We may or may not see it. So until tomorrow. Happy New yeah, well yeah, um no.

Dawn of the Brutal Season

The wind howls and collects her things. Each pressing against my flesh leaving their indelible mark. I swallow my dead flesh,  waiting for that sound. I hear voices from a stranger. Unkind, uncaring. I have become what I feared the most.