Takers

Another from the Ramblings compilation. I have read this out loud at a Poetry Bar down on "Deep Ellum" in Dallas. It was meant to be read aloud.


Takers

In the dank, dark, lousy cells of your mind
Do you find from time-to-time a respite

Do you burn all the day
Do you hate all the night

or

Do you sometimes suffer from fright

Have you cried a tear that was not for show
Had a moment when you stubbed your toe

Was there ever a time when you did not lie
No, that would take effort - you would have to try

Your one of the mean ones
The takers - the spies
Stay away from me
You make me cry
db
2/18/2010

Vultures

vultures circling waiting hovering wanting a juicy pungent lunch smelling life as it seeps away murky water in a drainpipe full of debris waiting hovering wanting to feed off the scraps hollow hardly a mouthful waiting hovering wanting to tear the sun from the earth poison the liquid for which I thirst waiting hovering wanting for me to give up the ghost scavengers picking over what's choice no leave it no they take

perfect london bed

i dream of a perfect london bed in a room tight above a pub upon this bed hardly more than a cot lies a london man his head hides the pillow his feet dangle from the edge this london man large like a bear says to me with voice of honey gravel come my girl lay upon me tis plenty of room don tcha see I say no i dunna see even a spot left for me unsure trepid i climb aboard his chest his belly so deceptively soft warm i burrow snuggle find for my pillow a beard of curls thick strawberry red all is just right don't wake me you fools let me sleep forever on this perfect london bed

db

Amsterdam

Please enjoy Miles Davis and John Coltrane while you read.

 Video below post.

Amsterdam

I let myself have a little wine tonight. After a glass, I found my thoughts drifting to you.

I remember Amsterdam and the loft we shared.  Just a bed and bath at the top of narrow stairs. Below us was that lovely bakery. I remember the smell of hot bread that would wake us before dawn. That smell still comforts me. Five days we had,  five days to make love all night, wake, eat, love again. Surrounded in our blue smoke, we were the only world. Occasionally we would take the stairs down and mingle with the locals. I wonder if you ever think of that time so long ago. I choose to think you do.

I am back there now, hanging on your arm [and every word you say] as we walk along Jefferson Avenue. We liked to stop at the Blue Goose to share a treat. We would order way too much food and ask the waiter for a doggie bag and take it with us as we rushed back to our loft, because the only thing we really had a taste for was each other. We made love almost desperately as the days passed and they passed so damn quickly. We knew that our time was close. Somehow we both knew that this was magical and that we would never feel this passionately again. I never did. I really never loved like that again. I remember once clutching my stomach with an ache that went deep down to my core. I loved you so much that the thought of parting cut me deeply. The feeling was so real that I cried out loud and you asked what was wrong. I lied and told you I had stubbed my toe on the chair. I knew when the five days were over that we too would be over and I would never see you again.

Many years have passed since then and I know now that we will never be over. We are together now. Trapped in time exactly as we were then, the free-spirited boy who wrote silly songs and laughed at the world and the brown-eyed girl who still believed in time machines and soft purple dragons. We are there in Amsterdam again. It may have taken the glow of the wine to revive you, but I relish the memory as I walk the avenue holding your arm once more and it is real and I love you now as I loved you then. There is no ache this time, because I know you will never really leave me. I keep you hidden from my world. You are my secret, never to be shared.

Oh Amsterdam, you were once mine and I will always cherish you.




A couple of fellows we ran into.

Glued Stuck

I can see the shadow of a hawk on the roof of the building across the way. I could see the bird itself if I would get up and walk closer to the window.

Niche

a little niche in my heart
chipped out long ago
a groove for him alone
tried to patch it closed

didn't try hard enough
left ragged and exposed
hope he will stay
know he needs to go

Clarity

The illusions have sharply gone. The clarity that is left is painful yet exciting.

Cocoon

Cocoon

I cocooned myself in delusion and reality has come and sat on me. I am suffocating in panic. I gasp...my eyes grow wide. I silently scream for help knowing the only help to come must come from me. I will dig deep to dredge up the warrior that I once was and I will battle once again.


db

Enjoy The Decemberists "Cocoon"

Collateral Damage

skills honed by experience

nails freshly sharpened

they bite and spew

entangled in this ugly game

one played for decades

caught in their cross-fire

gutted and bleeding

laid aside as collateral damage

they pause then continue



db

My Ride With Raoul

The back of his neck is hard and shows strength. There is a thick vein winding its way down from the hairline, I imagine a train coming down a steep mountain and I follow as it disappears into the tunnel of his Polo collar. Choo Choo.

The thickness of his black hair is freshly trimmed and straightened. I can tell that the slightest hint of moisture will cause soft baby curls to materialize and pop up all over his head. Presto Magico!

He holds himself erect, but not stiff. Confidant, he glances left and right with hardly a move. He silently and unknowingly offers security and control. I accept. I wonder what would happen if I reached up and touched that vein? I evade eye contact in the rear view mirror.

He brakes and turns toward me, I pay the fare. I glance at his name plate and say, "Nice ride, Raoul" and I tip him generously, after all, he has magical hair.

Scent of Yelapa

...the scent took me back to a mountain on the island of Yelapa, Jalisco, Mexico, where a tall blond-haired and handsome Mexican, named Arturo, once handed me a stash of fragrant mountain-grown bud wrapped in the New York Times. The wrapping was unexpected.

disjointed

Old friend, I haven't sought you out for awhile. I have thought of things I need to tell you or work out with you, but it is always in the early or late hours as I lay alone, the hours when my brain starts spiraling with forty thousand disjointed ideas, fears, emotions, dreams, songs, poems, one line from a movie with Nicholson that I saw in the 70's, my Mama saying "I don't think I'm going to make it" and knowing, me, I won't go to the doctor, no,  I won't, God, your will be done, needing a change, how to change, "Spare Change, Spare Change" dog misses his yard, I lost his yard, I should have tried harder, I'm sorry, need some magic, pull something off once more, I can sell, no, I don't like to sell, why not, it is honorable, people have needs - you fill those needs, nothing magic there, maybe that is why. I like magic, I want HIM,  these people are insane, no really, they are certifiable, best play along. Old friend, it is hard to put into words.




db

Glasgow

You can listen to Coltrane - After the Rain as you read.

(video below post)

Glasgow

Glasgow was as dark and murky as a scene from a Dickens novel. The rain was coming down so hard it splashed up from the ground to soak pants and shoes and the roar of it gave everything a "film noir" mysterious aura.

Outside the Glasgow train station I stood soaking wet and shivering with the cold and I watched you. You were propped in a darkened doorway like a knickknack in a shadowbox. Bless, you looked lost and confused and slightly wobbly. You stole a bit of my heart that night. I looked at you and made eye contact and that is exactly when you stole it from me. I felt a jolt inside my chest and became giddy like schoolgirl. I wanted to play with you. A stranger in a strange country, had I lost my mind? I wanted to take you home and lock you in my room and keep you all to myself like a secret souvenir. My hands wanted to smooth your wild copper curls, my lips wanted to taste your lips. Your lips were full and ripe, that's not something I have ever thought about a man's lips, but yours did look deliciously ripe and I wanted to taste...savor them. I wanted you. Apparently, you wanted me too. I had a six hour layover.

It was crazy really, I hadn't thought about a man in...well honestly, I don't recall. Maybe the job was getting to me,  I had been traveling so much, I wouldn't even know I was in Scotland if it wasn't for the sign hanging over the station door, maybe I had travelers lag, I don't know. I do know I will never regret a moment of the evening.

Whatever excuse I give myself for the way I reacted doesn't really matter now, it has been almost three years since that night and I still wouldn't mind taking you home and locking you in my room.  I hope you will take care of my bit of heart. I cherish the bit I took from you. You're my special curio.

Dark and murky Glasgow holds a special charm for me.

TO SOME I HAVE TALKED TO BY THE FIRE


by: William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)




HILE I wrought out these fitful Danaan rhymes,
My heart would brim with dreams about the times
When we bent down above the fading coals
And talked of the dark folk who live in souls
Of passionate men, like bats in the dead trees;
And of the wayward twilight companies
Who sigh with mingled sorrow and content,
Because their blossoming dreams have never bent
Under the fruit of evil and of good:
And of the embattled flaming multitude
Who rise, wing above wing, flame above flame,
And, like a storm, cry the Ineffable Name,
And with the clashing of their sword-blades make
A rapturous music, till the morning break
And the white hush end all but the loud beat
Of their long wings, the flash of their white feet.







"To Some I Have Talked With by the Fire" is reprinted from The Rose. W.B. Yeats. 1893.

Chris Cornell - When I'm Down - Troubadour, January 29 2010

Shop Talk

 I wrote this during a time in my life when people I trusted surprised me. I was blindsided.

SHOPTALK

Users, losers.
Intentional abusers.

Why are you here?

Hating, abating.
Obviously waiting.

Why are you here?

To feed off the rest.
Ridicule - make jest.

I would like to send you out for repair.

Your tainted.
db original post 12-08-2001 Written in 1991

Rise for the Scattered Day

Rise for the Scattered Day

rise and rise above the influences
rise above the questions, the degradations, the nuances
rise above the unnamed fears, the pains, the transgressions

rise high above the imbalance, the reactions, and the depressions

rise for the scattered day

you must rise for the scattered day

~

db 04/19/06

Art :

http://www.karenjerome.com/treehouses_3.htm

Dark World

DARK WORLD
I stepped into your dark world
Drank from your angry cup
I walked into your blackness
Now you must give me up

No longer will I close my eyes,
to your unholy hate
I will turn and walk away
For I know you are not my fate

db

Vampire Lust (Ode to Lestat)

repost for my friend Lestat.

For Poetry Thursday I have chosen Vampire Lust ( Ode to Lestat). I hope you enjoy. Vampire Lust

The heat from you is strong
I can smell your blood
I hear the sound as it pulses
I see the beat, the rhythm
I cannot help but take you

You feel my need, you sense
You come to me
I taste you slowly

Relish

You succumb, you become
We are one
Then I am gone

db

 original post 12-08-2001 - Originally written in 1995

pathetic

pathetic

useless
no reason to be

kaleidoscope
i don't see

wounds
blinding me

drained
apathy

db

db
original post 12-08-2001 written 1993
This blog originated as "Ramblings of a Manic Depressive" I just wanted a place to keep these poems. It was private for a long time. It still feels strange to share them.
I found out there was a book by that name published in the 70's, so I had to change it.

cornered

trapped
backed into the wall with no escape route
trapped by the times I didn't think
clutched by circumstances I don't own
breathless with anxiety my body tightly closing in
stopped cold by obligations debts owed to all
I want it to end I need it to stop
I scream in my mind
I have no where to go
my body has failed me my mind has escaped me
Will God help such a hapless soul?

db

Contributors

I hate it when I feel this way. I always hope it will not return, but here I go again. Repost from 2006



Contributors

You have all contributed to my demise.

When you took my love and returned no heart
you contributed.

When you turned on me and spewed me with your hate.
you contributed.

When you falsely accused me of what I would never conceive
you contributed.

When you used your children and threw them up
you contributed.

What you left behind is a fractured shell.

I attempt to rebound , to lift up my head.

Just empty eyes remain. The spirit is dead.

db

Illusions

This is another from Ramblings. I am trying to write something fresh for next week. Something not so dark. We will see.












Illusions


How can I sit here pretending.

When I really want to scream.

How can I fake it.

The thought to me is obscene.

The daily act of living,

is too much sometimes to bear.

Maybe I could just smile and nod.

Let them think I care.


db
original post 12-08-2001

It's Not That Easy To Die

It's Not That Easy To Die

Mama wouldn't like it if I left a mess.
People want to see your face when you are laid to rest.
I could try and hit the heart, but I might miss.
Way too much blood, if you go for the wrist.
Drugs might not be that easy to trace, but I don't want to die with vomit in my face.
I guess I'll give it another try.
It's not that easy to die.

db

original post 12-08-2001

Wallbanger

WALLBANGER

The highs are as bad as the lows
Like a speed freak on a jones
Bouncing off the walls
Unknowingly clenching my jaws
I feel I'm moving too fast
My future is quickly becoming my past
I'm tired and I want to rest
First I must finish this
Cosmo personality test.

db
original post 12-08-2001

I'm Nobody! Who Are You?

I'm Nobody! Who are you? by Emily Dickinson

I'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you -- Nobody -- Too?
Then there's a pair of us!
Don't tell! they'd advertise -- you know!

How dreary -- to be -- Somebody!
How public -- like a Frog --
To tell one's name -- the livelong June --
To an admiring Bog!

Last Flowers - Radiohead Music Video

Lyrics:
Last Flowers
appliances have gone berserk
i cannot keep up
treading on people's toes
snot-nosed little punk
and i can't face the evening straight
you can offer me escape
houses move and houses speak
if you take me there you'll get relief, relief, relief, relief
and if i'm gonna talk
i just want to talk
please don't interrupt
just sit back and listen
cos i can't face the evening straight
you can offer me escape
houses move and houses speak
if you take me there you'll get relief, relief, relief, relief
relief, relief
it's too much, too bright, too powerful
too much, too bright, too powerful
too much, too bright, too powerful
too much, too bright, too powerful

Why Ask Why?

In our efforts to organise and ease our personal lives on earth, we have disorganised and caused unease in the universe. The longer I live the more I see how truly stupid and useless we are in the massive scheme of things and am even more confused by the question my brain continually asks, "Why are we here?" I do believe in God. I have been touched and assisted more than once, but that doesn't clear up any confusion, it just creates more questions. I know I will not find an answer to the big questions and it is best for my mental stability to not ask or think them.
It is so much easier to just wrap myself up in TV & books, lose myself in someone else's mind, but what if I am supposed to be doing something important and I am sitting and wasting away in front of a TV/computer or game when I am needed elsewhere. Is it too late?

Feeling Alright

I am back. Dead eyes have gone quickly. If I could just dig out of this. I have always been able to pick myself up and dust myself off, as the song goes, but circumstances are out of my control this time. Or are they? I will find a way.

Saul Bellow

There is an immense, painful longing for a broader, more flexible, fuller, more coherent, more comprehensive account of what we human beings are, who we are and what this life is for.
Saul Bellow
Canadian born American novelist, 1915-2005

The Other Side of the Door

I hesitate before I open my bedroom door, but there is a need for coffee and the bathroom. My hand is on the knob. I take a breath that is more of a sigh. What will I find on the other side?

I hope I am wrong and today is a bright one, but more than likely, on the other side of the door, I will find dead and despondent eyes. A head that drops when I speak. A hand that wearily rises to block the eyes from seeing me. An action well practiced.

She will be sitting at the kitchen table , a pad full of numbers, stacks of overdue bills. The smell of an overflowing ashtray combining with the stench of despair. I can taste it. Chronic, chronic, chronic pain. snap, snarl, bite. Words are useless items when depression takes your sight.

It doesn't help to know that someone may be hesitating just outside my own bedroom door.
I turn and go back to my bed. Maybe I can hold off for just a moment more.

db

As Hope and Promise Fade - Chris Cornell

Baby, I'm Back.

It has been so long since I came here. I missed you.
Something went wrong and my blog was in Japanese and my sign on wouldn't work. It started back when I started using my Google sign on. I couldn't fix it and I couldn't read it, so I just abandoned it. That wasn't very nice, aye?
I thought I would come by today and see what was happening and it is found it no longer in Japanese. Yay. I may have flirted with 360, MYSPACE and Facebook, but you are my original love. When I started blogging here, I wasn't sure what a blog was. It was new to me, but I loved having a place to put my poems and private thoughs down where no one could find them. I messed up when I went public, because I lost the freedom of knowing no one you know could know the private stuff. Did I use the word "know " enough in that sentence? I don't really need the hiding place so much. I am in a lighter place now.


The Thanksgiving holiday was especially nice this year, very little drama and the meal was perfection. I am glad. The kids are all becoming teenagers this year, so it ought to be a fun next few years. (Hide me) I added a pic from the jibjab I made them. I will add the video now that this baby is cooperating with me again.

Dark Side, I Love you, miss you and will be back soon. I promise.

Castles Burning

Neil Young - Castles Burning.

I was only seventeen when I had my daughter. I was single with no qualifications and I had no idea what I was going to do. I heard the line "Don't let it bring you down, it's only castles burning, just find someone whos turning and you will come around" and I roused myself and took a step forward. I walked a long way.

There have been other times when I needed to hear the line again and it helped. I think I need to hear it today.

If you want to sing-a-long - lyrics are posted below video.

Neil Young. 1971

Don't Let It Bring You Down

Old man lying by the side of the road

With the lorries rolling by,

Blue moon sinking from the weight of the load

And the building scrape the sky,

Cold wind ripping down the allay at dawn

And the morning paper flies,

Dead man lying by the side of the road

With the daylight in his eyes.

Don't let it bring you down

It's only castles burning,

Find someone who's turning

And you will come around.

Blind man running through the light of the night

With an answer in his hand,

Come on down to the river of sight

And you can really understand,

Red lights flashing through the window in the rain,

Can you hear the sirens moan?

White cane lying in a gutter in the lane,

If you're walking home alone.

Don't let it bring you down

It's only castles burning,

Just find someone who's turning

And you will come around.

Don't let it bring you down

It's only castles burning,

Just find someone who's turning

And you will come around.

[ www.azlyrics.com ]

Bandit Won't Play With Me

Bandit won't play with me. Probably mad at all my blogging and tweeting. I thought I heard him placing a classified earlier. Overheard tip of convo., " right, no tech types, computers a no no."

THE MAN WHO SOLD THE WORLD

Man Who Sold The World (videos below lyrics)
We passed upon the stairs,
We spoke of was and when
Although I wasn't there
He said I was his friend
Which came as a surprise
I spoke into his eyes -- I thought you died alone
A long long time ago
Oh no, not me,
We never lost control,
You're face to face,
With the man who sold the world
I laughed and shook his hand,
I made my way back home,
I searched for form and land,
Years and years I roamed,
I gazed a gazely stare,
We walked a million hills -- I must have died alone,
A long long time ago.
Who knows, not me,
I never lost control,
You're face, to face,
With the man who sold the world.

I like all of these versions.

David Bowie is the original!




Nirvana

Jordis Unga (I think Jordis did a great job on RockStarINXS)

To Be, Or Not To Be

William Shakespeare - To be, or not to be (from Hamlet 3/1)

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.

art: ©2006-2009 ~Xibalban

Runaway Train - Soul Asylum

I was watching RockStar SuperNova this week and heard one of my favorite 90's grunge songs. I love Grunge.
Here are the lyrics and a link to the Rock Star performance! I hope you like as much as I do. Rockstar SuperNova and here are the Performance Videos. I would suggest you also watch all of Dilana's performances. She is riveting.

Soul Asylum
Runaway Train

Call you up in the middle of the night
Like a firefly without a light
You were there like a slow torch burning
I was a key that could use a little turning

So tired that I couldn't even sleep
So many secrets I couldn't keep
Promised myself I wouldn't weep
One more promise I couldn't keep

It seems no one can help me now
I'm in too deep
There's no way out
This time I have really led myself astray

CHORUS
Runaway train never going back
Wrong way on a one way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I'm neither here no there

Can you help me remember how to smile
Make it somehow all seem worthwhile
How on earth did I get so jaded
Life's mystery seems so faded

I can go where no one else can go
I know what no one else knows
Here I am just drownin' in the rain
With a ticket for a runaway train

Everything is cut and dry
Day and night, earth and sky
Somehow I just don't believe it

CHORUS

Bought a ticket for a runaway train
Like a madman laughin' at the rain
Little out of touch, little insane
Just easier than dealing with the pain

Runaway train never comin' back
Runaway train tearin' up the track
Runaway train burnin' in my veins
Runaway but it always seems the same

Ziggy Stardust

Another trip down memory lane.. This time it is inspired by my 9yr old grandaughter. She has somehow discovered David Bowie and has had me looking up videos for her. When I found Ziggy - I knew I would have to share . I hope you enjoy. What a fun time to be alive that was.

The Arctic Is Melting Video

This is not a funny video. The question is what can be done?

An Inconvenient Truth - The Arctic Is Melting (2006)
The story of former Vice President Al Gore's crusade to bring greater knowledge of global warming to the world at large.
35 sec

Fruit Can Be Beautiful and Destructive. New Video

Sometimes a drink commercial can be art. This one is.

Tango Clear (2006)A soft drink company in England creates a brilliantly fruit-flavored homage to the popular Sony Bravia spot.1 min 2 sec

Chris Daughtry - Two More Good Ones!

This video features Chris singing "Hemorrhage" and "I Walk the Line" I decide to spit the three Chris videos up. Don't miss the other two! Lyrics to Hemorrhage below video!



Hemorrhage
Fuel

Memories are just where you laid them
Drag the waters ’till the depths give up their dead
What did you expect to find?
Was there something you left behind?
Don’t you remember anything I said when I said

Don’t fall away, and leave me to myself
Don’t fall away and leave love bleeding
In my hands, in my hands again
Leave love bleeding
In my hands, in my hands
Love lies bleeding

Oh hold me now I feel contagious
Am I the only place that you’ve left to go
She cries her life is like
Some movie black and white
Dead actors faking lines
Over and over and over again she cries

Don’t fall away, and leave me to myself
Dont fall away, and leave love bleeding
In my hands, in my hands again
Leave love bleeding
In my hands, in my hands
Love lies bleeding

And I wanted
You turned away
You don’t remember, but I do
You never even tried

Don’t fall away and leave me to myself
Don’t fall away and leave love bleeding
In my hands, in my hands again
Leave love bleeding
In my hands, in my hands
Love lies bleeding

405 Emergency Landing - Video of the Day

This is great. I would love to be able to produce videos like this. It is amazing to me what can be done with animation.