Wordsto Hear

Tune Out

2011-01-05T15:32:00.000-08:00

The song I once sung has left me and gone,

the calm has been taken by storm.

The day is now grey and the stars put away,

the sharp edges have all been worn.

Smoke signals were sent from this hill to that

but lost their way in the fog.

No help on the way, no savior today,

just meaningless words in a log.

Once I was tethered to true north forever,

always pointed the way for me.

Now the line is broken, frayed, severed and gone,

like my favorite tune lost at sea.

Hurt... By NIN Trent Reznor

2011-01-03T16:13:00.000-08:00

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember, everything

What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know,
goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here

What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again

A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

Traveler

2010-05-26T21:34:00.000-07:00

We've spoken of the wanderlust,

the lives we lead, the dust to dust.

Let's visit the traveler and his quilted coat,

his journal and the things he wrote.

Where did the inspiration come?

Where travelers hitch a hiker's thumb.

The far shore beckons and the way is fast.

Is a true one's love dreams of the past?

Count me in when debts are settled,

and matters of our lives unmeddled.

Count me in when prizes given

and from the snow the dirt is driven.

We've lumbered through it all 'til now,

the hills the valleys, the budding bough.

Clamp your teeth down strong and tight.

Some thoughts are sure to live the night.

My One Night Stand With a Real Bitch

2010-04-14T20:38:00.000-07:00

The photo says it all I guess, the gun the bitch and all the rest.
The book I started out to read, the bowls and cups I use to feed.
A little slice of life these days, wander in my mind through sunlit haze.
A second taken here and now, should clean the mess but don't know how.
The mornings come and evenings leave, another year through my life weave.
I named a boy after the man, the book of whom I was a fan.
Get me some golf shoes quick, the blood has made the carpet slick.
The Vegas Fear and Loathing gone, the Caddy parked out on the lawn.
The time it flies like mayflies fly, the mayflies fly then too soon die.
My time is short but fuck the clock, I'll dance and sing and walk the walk.
These really are the good old days, no matter what the good book says.
My one night stand with my little bitch, my books and shit, this life is rich.

Rest

2010-02-08T22:44:00.001-08:00

I wish for you a quiet sleep,

may your head rest easy.

A peaceful dream in color

a slumber white and breezy.

Let the stillness take you gently

to a river's edge that sings.

Away you float on gentle waves

and to sleepy shores it brings.

Cast away the day and trouble,

just throw it all aside,

Dream a while soft and still,

enjoy the gentle ride.

Fictional Mediocrity

2010-01-30T20:41:00.002-08:00

The day was sad when first I came to realize, to grasp the fact that I was not destined for greatness. It wasn't as though I expected to be a stand out, just that I hadn't really given it much thought 'til then. Faced with that harsh reality freed me up to explore and even revel in the mediocrity that was to become the remainder of my days. Fictional tales woven together here are more than story sometimes. They're pieces and testaments to the moment at hand. This is all made up though, a fanciful piece of fiction.

Oregon

2010-01-04T07:01:00.000-08:00

Up here where I live the rain falls from the sky

And mixes with dirt

It muddies things up

It soaks through my shirt

Up here where I live the sky is all dark

No light shines through for days

No blue sky is seen

No warm sunshine rays

Up here where I stay things are wet and cold

The sky frowns on me

It covers the sun

That fights to be free

In The Ditch

2009-12-26T09:14:00.000-08:00

My boss asked me to join him at the local watering hole "Romar's" for a cocktail Tuesday evening after work. Being the company man that I am, I take him up, what the hell... 'tis the season, right?
I walk in, scope out the scene, play a few games of eight ball and down a few Russian Rockstars while he shoves twenties in the stupid video poker machine. I can feel the vodka have its way with my senses, stressing less, enjoying more, warming up to the smoky, sticky confine. God I love bars.
Late again, seems I am always late home from work these days.

I Can't Play Guitar

2009-12-26T09:10:00.000-08:00

I fairly ran down the hall to the bedroom to the corner where my old pawn shop Fender acoustic leaned against the boring wall. Picking her up (guitars are always female) I held her long smooth delicate neck in my left hand, cradled her curvy warm body in my lap and began to pick slowly, deliberately, at the very strings of her deep knowing soul with my right. I played her long and slow, then fast and wild. The sound was music to my ears. We relaxed a while in the afterglow as she held a smoke for me on her truss. It was then that she gently reminded me I can’t play guitar.

Happy Thanksgiving Motherfuckers

2009-11-23T20:43:00.000-08:00

I've been watching way too many Youtube conspiracy theory type videos lately, the most recent being one produced by some nut job (maybe) named Alex Jones and titled "The Obama Deception". After I watched all twelve ten minute segments I pretty much wanted to either slit my wrists or start a commune in the Rockies somewhere. Or better yet, being the compliant law abider I am, get in line to have myself implanted with a cool microchip filled with my medical history, occupational background and firearm purchasing history by VeriChip.
A morbid fascination too took hold of me as I viewed the Zapruder film of Kennedy's assasination over and over in HI DEF, at once enchanting, then horrifying, but again enchanting me at seeing our nation's last great hope for salvation's brain matter get sprayed from his skull. It's amazing how far video enhancement has progressed.
Happy Thanksgiving motherfuckers.

Regions Past

2009-11-21T01:05:00.000-08:00

I strayed outside, looked at the sky and there fell the rain.

Lit up a Marlboro, took it all in and felt better about the day.

Never in my life, in my years all these years, had I felt this way.

Tired, defeated, lost and old, but hopeful in the rain.

The Northwestern sky looked cold and blew wet, extinguishing my glow.

I tried to draw in again, to milk another drag of life, caught myself in the window.

I saw through my reflection and looked deep through the glass

at a home that’s not mine and some scenes of the past.

My folks are old and my grandparents long gone.

I used to sit with them in chairs and play games on the lawn.

A Midwestern sky was deep blue and the grass was all green.

The houses all had porches, and the siding was clean.

Small children I knew once ran and fell down,

they chased dogs and kicked balls on the Iowa ground.

We played stick ball with corn cobs and and batted runs in,

then all the fun stopped when my dad called us in.

When I was younger still, back East in Spackenkill Heights,

There was a girl there I kissed under the buggy street lights.

I learned some things there, some ugly, some good,

all things that kids learned in the old neighborhood.

Dreams of Upstate

2009-11-09T22:05:00.000-08:00

I have had some really strange visits to upstate New York lately, particularly the Alexandria Bay area near the border of Canada. Last night, I'm driving my old man's Chevy Impala (three on the tree) when all the sudden the steering column locks up on me and I lose control, just barely banging into a fabulous couple's Subaru Forrester.

They both freaked. "You're not going anywhere 'til the cops get here" shrieked the manlier of the two. I looked at the damage done and tried to dismiss it as superficial, but they were having none of it. Nothing left to do but call my insurance agent there on the spot.

That's when things got even weirder. I got directory assistance on the phone with my Blackberry's voice command application (for some reason stored as "directory asst" so always a challenge to make it work) and when asked for the city and state I replied "Watertown, New York" and asked for Progressive Insurance. There was no listing for it.

So there I was, being screamed at by two highly strung life partners three thousand miles from my home. That's when it dawned on me that I was dreaming. I was pissed.

Monday morning comes early enough let alone spending Sunday night into the wee hours of Monday stressing out over an imaginary car accident and its ensuing drama. I woke myself up, shook my groggy head and felt a sense of relief that it was all over now.

I should call my dad.

Poughkeepsie

2009-10-24T17:25:00.000-07:00

I was born and raised in Poughkeepsie.

I like to drink beer and get tipsy.

I once fell down,

hit my head on the ground,

and came to beside a gypsy.

Then another time I drank at some dive.

I had to duck to the floor to survive.

A big Donny Brook

Between a bus boy and cook

I was Lucky to escape there alive.

Another time me and a friend,

We drank hard ‘til the bitter end.

I woke up in Jail

No money for bail

So I called for money to lend.

By now it’s painfully clear,

That it’s time to stop drinking my beer.

I’ll quit on the morrow

No more bail will I borrow

I’ve a new taste for vodka I fear.

Words to Fill Some Space

2009-10-17T22:18:00.000-07:00

Born alone and die that way too I will

Bridges to burn, the day comes too soon

A thief in the night the light is all gone

Across the river burns a fiery moon

Alone as a leper, as broken as bread

The life that I lived stored up in my head

Weary eyes look heavenward

Gazing on

Weary eyes look heavenward

Chasing on

Tired eyes catch a glimpse

Promise there

A ballroom of youth

Dance on air

The dirty ground holds fast to my feet

Weary eyes turn upward

The hallowed ground pushes me up

A call I imagined I heard

On the plane where I live

There’s no magic there

This plane where I stay

There’s no time to share

Above I will look

The clouds are there

I pray on my knees

For redemption I dare

Fish Outta Water

2009-09-27T08:39:00.000-07:00

gasping for air

I picked you up there

revived you

and set you to swim

all white and gold

scaly and cold

you thanked me

then made for a limb

the pond was all dry

and little fish fry

when the water is gone

breathe easy now

someday I am sure

with your fishy allure

you'll save my life

I just don't know how

Six Sentences

2009-09-25T20:52:00.000-07:00

Okay, so there's a great blog called Six Sentences by Robert Mcevily that welcomes writers to tell a story in six sentences. I love the site.

Today he posted Payday, six that I wrote. Check it out and his site here... fun place.

Thanks to Robert for a great concept.

Hunt's Poem

2009-09-19T22:04:00.001-07:00

Reproduced with the poet's permission...

Happy Birthday

2009-09-12T08:45:00.000-07:00

My friend turns 30 today, she's having a soiree.

I got no Hallmark card, so Happy damn Birthday.

Happy Birthday Sammie...

Curse the Sun

2009-09-11T23:40:00.000-07:00

Call it what you will, there are days when nothing seems right.

Nothing seems comfortable and everything's up in the air.

The comfort zone has absolutely flown the coop

and in its place self doubt and inner dialogue take place, a recipe for despair.

The sun may shine in now and again, only to be cursed.

Birds may sing and babies may cry, but still there is despair.

Something is soon to happen, or worse yet, nothing happens at all,

and underneath it all is a waiting, burdened feeling there.

It will all change as it always does, change is always good my friend told me.

I'm not sure if I buy it, but then again it's not for me to say.

A feeling in the air is strange, unfamiliar and uncharted as it blows.

A different day may come about with the Piper still to pay.

Then again, a new day wakes me, and it brings hope and renewal.

The sun rises as it has for years in the East, and I'll welcome it again.

I try to remember why I cursed it yesterday and covered up my head.

Today I smile at the light and the promise that it sends.

Modesto

2009-09-01T21:53:00.000-07:00

The journey goes across my mind and then back again,

taking rest stops and wrong turns along the way.

The end could be anywhere or any day.

There's a place at journey's end that prepares itself for me.

It could be Heaven or Hell, it could be the city of Modesto.

It draws me close, I can not run from there, so off again I go.

There is a vortex there at journey's end, sucking me hard,

teasing me with glimpses of its beauty and it's love,

and all the sins of down below and innocence of above.

Godless calls in the night to Godless traveler's hotel rooms.

I've made a temple in my mind to Modesto or Heaven or Hell,

and the vortex that pulls me to its dark deep empty wishing well.

Lee Oskar

2009-08-18T23:12:00.000-07:00

I lost my way a time ago, I wandered around in San Diego.

My friends were there, they left me there in San Diego.

I hopped a bus, I walked alone, I ambled here and there.

I lived a lifetime or a day, I had breakfast in her home.

I combed her hair, we had some food, she smiled at me too.

She's with me here and stays around, no matter where I roam.

She cried so hard, she loved me mad, she couldn't come with me.

I know she helped me on my way, her tears they set me free.

Another time, in San Diego, I piloted a bus, or tried to anyway.

I couldn't turn the key to save my life, I lost it on that day.

I was invisible and had no shoes and needed to go home.

Instead again I landed back to where I first set out to roam.

The blues had captured me as I played my harp, naked in the night.

Amazing Grace I knew by heart, I walked her guiding light.

The boneyard came to life at night, the tune it played so sweet.

Awake the dead, rise up they did, they danced right on the street.

At daybreak's landing, there was a pool, again I met the blues.

I hitched a ride, I felt the sting, and asked where are my shoes?

Calming down, falling asleep after so many years,

I met her once again, the girl I left, her many saving tears.

The whole thing is, there's trouble there, right there in San Diego.

A hive of bees, a nest of vipers, he walks around in San Diego.

I fled the place, my gun in hand, I could have shot him dead.

"It's an eye contact thing", he looked at me and shone them to me red.

I took no life that night you know, I could have had a few.

He would have laughed, his head wide open, "what did you just do?"

Instead I ran away and got the blues to sing me to my home.

I did my time and walked away from Vista's Thunderdome.

I made this up you know, all of this shit, to see where it could go.

After writing for days and days, no matter where I start it ends in San Diego.

Inspiration Fleeing

2009-08-17T23:29:00.000-07:00

I look to the heavens and I find her there,

this time it's time for her to share.

She holds my hand, she stills my heart,

she tells me how we'll never part.

More than a night we'll share, and more than one single day.

Spend your life with me again, and by my side you'll stay.

Scarred fingers scrawl, an imperfect mind tills the ground,

and there before a selfish swine, the perfect pearl is found.

Perfection in your eyes I find, Inspiration take my soul.

Perfect stranger you, your smile so bright your eyes of coal.

One thousand years you'll wait for me, and I one thousand more,

'til streams turn to pools and rivers flow, and wash me to your your shore.

Inspiration rarely hangs around for too long...

Inspiration Fleeting

2009-08-11T22:35:00.000-07:00

I rarely know what to write on these damn blank pages,

trip around for words that come in stages.

I'd love to pen a verse that means something to someone somewhere.

Again the ability fails me, the talent is lacking, I've nothing left to share.

I throw shit against the wall to see if anything sticks, try to better my chances.

Most of it slides down, leaving a trace of failed intention, nothing dances.

I scoop it up again, repackage it, throw it even harder, throw it faster.

This blank white wall, its spaces, these letters I can never master.

I look to the heavens to find her there.

Inspiration smiles upon my crap.

She stills my heart and holds my hand.

"Don't write if you don't want to".

Inspiration, you come so rarely, stay with me through this night,

help me write something good, make this shit alright.

Turn this ball of clay into a work of art my love, make it pleasing to your eye.

The night, these words all pass me quickly by and by.

But now it seems the moments gone, I have no desire to continue,

looking at the ink that's here and the shit that's fallen off the walls.

There is no genius here tonight, no words penned for the ages,

just some traces of intentions and the uninspired mess left where it falls.

Old Guys Riding Trikes

2009-07-23T23:41:00.000-07:00

Beauty fills my eyes, stills my heart, overwhelms and floods my soul.

The air I breathe, the warm air I feel, my dogs that smile and roll.

The glowing tip on smokes I puff, the warmth of bourbon dribbling down my throat.

The smile that cracks my face when I see the crazy shit I wrote.

Beauty fills my space, she stares at me and smiles.

Travels over time and space and closes in the miles.

Children running, young girls sunning, old guys riding trikes.

Women walking, rain that’s falling, the flash when lightning strikes.

Take her in, breathe her deep, her scent it thrills the heart.

Look at beauty in it all, in life as well as art.

Just This Wish

2009-07-20T23:28:00.000-07:00

You Can't Always Get What You Want

Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it. *

How lucky for me, I always wish for the best.

Why fear what I dream of if I dream a good dream?

I turn to the heavens, and submit my request.

Wishes are like candy, like wine and like praise.

We only have wishes at the end of our days.

Dreams are just fodder for realities' waking.

Wish with me now, it's ours for the taking.

Nightmares are another thing to be certain.

Panic and fear drives their way to daylight.

Derailed dreams that go madly astray.

Waken me violently, sweaty with fright.

But wishes wished truly,

thought out through and throughly,

I'll hope to get what I wish for someday.

* an aside here... I don't like the saying... be careful what you wish for... blah blah blah... but people have recited it to me my whole life... I wish for a Luhrs 41 Convertible and a Buell Ulysses and, and... a pony too...

It's All Good

2009-07-18T01:43:00.000-07:00

butterflies and ponies fly around the sky

butterflies and ponies catching every eye

greenest grass and bluest skies

all right here to my surprise

just had to look a bit longer

pleasant thoughts are growing stronger

all is well and all is fair

all good things I want to share

Bitter

2009-07-18T01:14:00.000-07:00

hell spills over, seeps into broad daylight

turn my eyes as not to burn

fuck it all, run head long embrace it

got to love it I'll soon learn

all of us are bound to go

heaven is reserved, members only

here in hell I'm never lonely

preach something that makes sense

cut the condescension and pretense

live forever or die by the sword

toil and trouble for your reward

fuck it all, where are you Lord?

hear me?

no, I didn't think so...

Cover

2009-07-15T21:20:00.000-07:00

bury the past, it's just a tale

bury it deep might just as well

under another layer of days

another layer of dust

no one remembers forever

the things that just happened

no one recalls what we just forgot

if there were time I'd bury it all

under boulders and oceans and dust

there's no time for that now

but bury it deep I must

Just Waiting on a Friend

2009-07-15T21:00:00.000-07:00

Vexation, inflicting coordinated calculated matriculation, manipulation.

Marionette like dancing pawns,

waiting for something here to happen, the other shoe to drop.

Trains pulling in someday, another train may leave.

Stillness hard to come by, stillness all around.

Waiting at the station, waiting on a sound.

Run fast or sit here patiently, quietly, passively.

No lights coming soon, no help is on the way.

Better to wait it out, better yet to run away.

Nothing's better in this life than waiting on someday.

Someday a train rolls in and opens up its doors.

Someday the ticket's punched, was it worth waiting for.

"I'm not waiting on a lady, I'm just waiting on a friend..." Stones '81 Tattoo You

The Video

Dance

2009-07-13T20:38:00.000-07:00

trampled on and fallen under

youth and dreams of youth

given in to life and troubles

truth and dreams of truth

disillusion crept upon us

smiles faked and laughter rare

a hardened calloused countenance

sin and shame to lay us bare

our hearts still beating pulses strong

our faces masking troubled souls

walking through the days together

alone we pay our sinful tolls

dance with me to music playing

jump in time to feel alive

revel in our life together

to live is life not just survive

a new stupid rhyme

2009-06-20T22:27:00.000-07:00

tired of writing

tired of hearing myself tap at these stupid keys

this laptop is like an anchor

who writes such shit, who lets this black hole seize

sucks in my life

wastes my time and brings no joy tonight

waste the hours

thinking of stupid shit to write

why write anything

what difference does it make

self indulgence

indulging stupidity for stupidity's sake

Bucket of Scotch

2009-06-16T23:24:00.000-07:00

poetry is for pussies and fags

if you write poetry you best pick up your purse

if you have to write poetry, a rhyme or a verse

better do it with a bucket of scotch and loaded iron at your side

better write notes of manly shit and suicide

tears are for cowards and queers and for freaks

i’ll go on about life and of love and of lust

you that hear now are all that i trust

understanding and knowing the words that i write

you that hear now are friends that are tight

words are for losers and pussies be sure

words are for your ears, but not ever more

Rolling in the Rain

2009-06-14T08:39:00.001-07:00

Riding bikes in the ocean must be hard to do

Getting soaked through and through

Had a taste of this yesterday’s ride

My leather clad friends rode by my side

Rivers of rivers flowed down the street

Cold rain blowing, soaked to my feet

So many needles fell from the sky

Poked at my cheek and got in my eye

Sat in the puddle that once was a seat

Oregon’s weather is always a treat

Mountain Dreams

2009-06-13T08:40:00.000-07:00

Climbing up mountains one by one

Traversing dangers on the run

Staying anchors in the sun

Grab a hand hold draw in tight

Fingers grip with all their might

Push up hard, time to fight

Letting go, the quick way down

Sudden impact to the ground

Reach up struggle, come around

Mountain dreams are filled with danger

Dreams of mountains getting stranger

Space

2009-06-08T22:15:00.001-07:00

spaces in between us all

spaces large and spaces small

filled with light or filled with miles

filled with tears or filled with smiles

voids not vacant, but filled with us

reading words or catching dust

always spaces between us

Lo Lo

2009-06-06T09:39:00.001-07:00

I remember eighteen a little

was a long time ago

my girl turned eighteen today

my sweet little Lo Lo

she's a storm and a mystery too

a stranger and a love

I'll miss her when she's gone from me

even though I gave her a shove

she thinks she's been forgotten some how

as if she ever could be

I'll send her off to life on her own

her presence here memory

she makes me happy and breaks my heart

a mighty small force is she

I love her so, where ever she is

maybe someday she will see

but for now I'll just give her a rhyme

I might get to see her smile

asleep on the couch, a vision there

let her rest a while

the bright side to her leaving from home

is that quite possibly soon

I'll have another place to be me

a new naked office room

Seeing Fall

2009-05-31T22:10:00.000-07:00

Summer's hot and sweaty

Spring was grey and wet

I'll whine about the seasons

I'll sometimes fuss and fret

I take a Zen like second

I close my eyes and see

gold leaves blowing from the sky

a bare remnant of a tree

crispy air kisses my skin

helps me catch my breath

alive again Fall saves me

from my spinning depth

Communication Breakdown

2009-05-22T22:07:00.000-07:00

Don't you just love it when you make a complete horse's ass of yourself by not listening well enough to others? Oh, really? Never had that problem? Liar.

At one time or another we have all been there, some more frequently than others. I have miles and a captain's club card.

It may have started in the early beginnings when they were passing out brains and I heard "trains" and ran for cover. My mother, when exasperated by some heinous act I'd committed when a child used to tell me so. My own mother.

Over the years I have, to my own peril, taken up the technique I like to refer to as the "smile and nod" when confronted by a topic that I lose interest in. . "Oh, really, little Tanner is turning five next Saturday, (smiling, nodding) that's terrific." Later that same day Tanner's dad asks if I'd like to bring the kids over for a party on Saturday, and I ask the unthinkable, "what's the occasion?" Yeah... nice right?

The problem is that there are so many forms of conveying information nowadays that we are bombarded with data. So many people we know with so much to talk about that we go numb. Maybe I am projecting my own affliction on to society at large for my own sense of well being, but I don't think so. I also have a valid excuse. Okay, maybe a lame one that I'd like to try out. I have ADD. I wish that was an acronym for Appendage Dragging Disorder, or Advanced and Divine Drunkenness or something. But we all know what it stands for. I have been clinically diagnosed with it by a trained professional.

I can't focus too well on a topic for too long without drifting out to sea, like a boat that has broken free of its moorage. I love boats. My brother has a boat in Dana Point Harbor, So does my mom. There is something so cool about being out to sea in a boat.

The last time I was in a boat at sea was with my dad in Hawaii. We took off out of Hawaii Kai on Oahu and whale watched.

Whales are so cool. They're like freaking mammals that swim and live in the water. It is ironic that the largest fish in the world is a Whale Shark. It is not a whale, but it is a shark with no teeth that feeds on plankton like one. It is so crazy that the largest creatures in the sea feed upon the smallest.

I love to eat shark. I used to fish for Makos near Catalina thirty miles or so off of LA. The City of Angels.

Loved that movie, Nick Cage and Meg Ryan. The ending sucked though, very sad.

My wife recently got her hair cut like Meg Ryan in that movie. It looks great. Or was it "When Harry Met Sally"?

She just got back from Portland where she did OHS training for her work. She said it was great and she learned a lot. I asked if she missed me and she said that she did. She said she was reminded of me when they started discussing various conditions. They were talking about the characteristics of ADD which stands for "Attention Deficit Disorder".

She said she'd like to have a camera follow me and record my movements within our home.

It was then we decided to soak in the hot tub.

My son and my wife are waiting in the jacuzzi for me as I get ready to join them. Already in my trunks, but better bring a beverage in with me. Wait, I just called my brother, he may call me back, need the cordless too. Go to grab a towel and I am out on the deck, oops, left beverage inside. Go to get it from kitchen and realize that I put the cordless down somewhere. At least I have my beverage. Where's my towel? Check out on deck, nope, back inside, oh yeah, with the cordless on cocktail table where I left it. Was a nice soak we had.

Anyway, miscommunication is all too common. Communication Breakdown is a Led Zeppelin song from their first album in 1969. Love Zep.

Maybe I should re title this post.

Personally I think ADD is way over diagnosed and is a bunch of bullshit.

Sweetwaters, Polio Vaccinations and PFDs

2009-05-15T06:22:00.000-07:00

Sweetwaters in Eugene was where we met, the five of us, two clients and one of their wives along with my boss and myself. This was our second time dining there with this same group minus the one wife. The drive was long, going north from Grants Pass, but this is where they wanted to meet, so we trekked on.

Their menu was actually better than I remembered it to be, and Keith, my boss, commented on this as well. I think perhaps we were both kind of nervous the first visit, as we had never met our company prior to that night so the food was not our primary focus.

Well, I started out with a Manhattan as did Keith, while waiting for our guests. The bar is dark, a tad dated I think, with a small dance floor and lounging area with sofas, overstuffed chairs and a fireplace which is nice. When I say dated, it is not tacky dated, just from an earlier vision of what the interior of a hotel bar should be. The flat screens were nice, as we got to watch Denver and Dallas in the NBA playoff game.

When the rest of our party joined us, we had another round as they sipped their first. A Bloody Mary, Bud Light and a Martini I recall. After getting reacquainted and some small talk, we adjourned to the dining room.

In the main area, there are large windows looking out to the Willamette River, swiftly flowing by as we diners gaze out in wonder. "I wonder how many people drown in that every year?". The subject of PFDs or personal flotation devices came up, as did the number of rafting mishaps associated with alcohol consumption on the rivers. I digress...

I will not go into long boring detail of what everyone ordered, but I will tell you what I did. For the appetizer, (restaurants with "Appetteasers" should by in large be avoided I think) I ordered the Avocado Salad which was very nice, refreshing even. The presentation was well done, kind of a spiral looking thing. Nice.

Next up for me was the Lamb Osso Bucco. It was very tender, as it should be, falling off the bone with just a fork. The dish was very good and very hearty, comfort food. The other entree I wanted to try was the Elk Medallions, maybe next time. We washed our meals down with a couple of Reds, Willamette Vineyard Pinot and I believe a Rodney Strong Reserve Zinfandel. The wine, as always was great, the selection duties being charged to Keith, the most knowledgeable oenophile I know. He can tell you more about wineries, grapes, vintages and vintners than you can learn from a book. When we dine with him, trust me, no one looks at the wine list. To do so would be similar to pushing Jonas Salk out of the way while he's looking through a microscope and saying "lemme' take a looksee".

For dessert, I selected the Key Lime pie. It was very good, tart, not sweet, the way it should be. I have a pet peeve about sweet Key Lime pie, I like it to be very tart. I'm not sure what anyone else ordered for dessert, I was too busy eating.

To be sure, there are better restaurants in Eugene, but I haven't tried them. Sweetwaters is perfect for meeting business associates and entertaining out of towners.

Bossa Nova and Beef in Boise

2009-05-12T22:48:00.000-07:00

Chandler's in Boise is a good restaurant. Cool vibe, blue tones inside, both musical and color blue tones. Glass shelves tucked against the walls by the entry and bar, uplighted by cool sapphire illumination. Lots of top shelf spirits reside there on the shelves, each bottle altering the light shining through it to its own liking.

The trio playing for us was perfectly suited to the environment, quiet, intimate, but not to be ignored. They played mainly samba and bossa nova tunes that I had heard before but never could put a name to if I had to. Very well suited to the place. Did I mention cool vibe?

I started out with a "hit the spot" Manhattan, some Carpaccio, then Escargot followed by the veal chop. My dining partner and fellow foodie had a Tanqurey Martini with hand stuffed anchovie olives, substituted oysters on the half shell for the snails and then the veal chops as well. I'd really like to tell you about the two Zins we had, but I don't remember the vineyards or vintage. It was all very good.

Boise is not so small, 203,000 souls reside there. They have a great Harley dealer there as well, High Desert Harley Davidson. The last black jeans I bought were purchased there in 2007 on the way home from Sturgis. So, where was I? Yes... Chandler's...

Chandler's is probably the best steakhouse in Boise, and definitely worth a consideration should you find yourself travelling to or through. Rex Chandler is the proprietor, and has, and had, trendy and tasty eateries from Newport Beach (the now defunct Rex) to Hawaii and Idaho. He has done a great job with this one.

By the way... if you google him, he is the one that does not act in gay porn I am certain.

Eight the Hard Way

2009-05-10T19:35:00.000-07:00

I'm at this craps table in some casino,

not sure, maybe Vegas, maybe Reno.

This girl tells me something bad's about to happen.

"Do you have a gun?", "no gun love, but I'm packin."

I Smile at her and she points to her chips,

grabs a black one, holds it in her lips.

Her turn to toss 'em, she rolls eight the hard way.

The bettors love her luck, gonna' be a good day.

"Drink sir?" asks the server, "no, I'm good, thanks."

She's on a roll, loaded with cocaine and tranqs.

"Number, number!" she gives what they call.

Rolls 'em again, the bones hit the wall.

My chips are so lonely, they're sad and they're few.

"Come to my room now, got somethin' for you."

I too soon wake up from my crazy ass dream,

this don't mean a thing, they just are what they seem.

Too much to drink last night, maybe so,

plus I am married, so I couldn't go.

Um, Toy Story?

2009-05-06T20:22:00.000-07:00

You've got a friend in Bend.

If you need a brew, maybe a friend or two, ' cause you're feeling blue,

you've got a friend in Bend.

No matter where you live, or how far away, we'll keep a place to stay.

You know that you've got a friend in Bend.

We've got creepy art in the halls, stories of bestiality in the stalls,

a soaking tub, but here's the rub, it's the goathead's hub.

You've got a friend in Bend.

But don't worry about them none,

because you've got a private nun who just batted in a run.

She's safe at home, batter up again,

You've got a friend in Bend.

Well, there's more to tell you know, like the UFO show, and the staff that serves,

but never sleeps, and the secrets he keeps.

You've got a friend in Bend.

The hour grows late, and the near is end,

You've got a Bend in Friend.

3-5-3?

2009-04-30T19:31:00.000-07:00

rainy day

no help on the way

swim away

_________________

loud rumble

winds blow through my head

bees bumble

_________________

rude frogs shout

tasting like chicken

snake dines out

_________________

smile for me

breathing in my air

wind blown tree

Music Critic

2009-04-28T21:38:00.000-07:00

singing frogs grow louder

shake my fist at their song

laugh out loud,

they won't live too long

tasting like chicken

the smiley snake comes 'round

hates the tune and gobbles frog down

Kodak Moment

2009-04-27T21:53:00.000-07:00

slowly moving minutes turning into quickly burning days

snapshots, photos taken here and there, mostly put in an old forgotten drawer

pictures of some seconds, some sunny days, some snowy shadows fall

trying for immortality, proof of life, indelible footprints, really nothing more

I'm here for now, but now is gone, and another day goes by

grab a handful of it as the time it passes, holding on for just a while

sands through fingers, time through men, always disappear

some photos in a drawer banked up, so don't forget to smile

Rhymes From Hell

2009-04-26T00:30:00.001-07:00

To be right and to be wrong;

clever lines, maybe a song.

Words penned and not thought through,

just ink on paper, maybe some true.

Falling, dropping from the heavens sometimes,

rising, forced from hell, along with the rhymes.

Who writes for you, is it good , is it ill?

Who writes for you, and who waits until,

you've penned all the words that you need to get out?

For good or for ill, there's more still to shout.

They keep you awake, keep you from sleep,

knock on your head, your soul sure to keep.

Words truly written but never your own,

words to hear now, but only on loan.

Words here to write, but not here to read.

Words here to see, but not here to read.

Countrycide

2009-04-25T23:42:00.000-07:00

the last thing i heard was the pin hit the cap

the last thing i did was pull the trigger back

memories in motion flying through air

dreams, bone and blood all mixed together there

last thing i saw was you smiling at me

days end and what happens next guess i'll see

life filled with days ends so quick here for me

glimpse of tears rolling down faces and shame

they're all better off now without the man's name

... this is a story told to me... not by me...

When the Rubber Hits the Road

2009-04-16T23:03:00.000-07:00

It's time to ride my bike again

and ride it way too fast

twist the throttle back some more

the weather will not last

the crazy rush, the waves of heat

waves of knowing old men

remembering the time they rode

so long ago back when

Indians and Harleys ruled the road

from sea to shining sea

wish they could ride again they do

and make some noise with me

Back Stage Pass

2009-04-12T12:08:00.000-07:00

I am not a big church proponent these days. Can't seem to get around the hypocrisy and judgement of so many goers. Christ seems so secondary to the scene.

Christ has risen, I believe that to be true. Without believing that, there really is no reason for Christianity.

Lately, I have really called into question whether or not I like Christianity as I know it. The whole condemnation aspect really and truly just bugs. All these wonderful people I know and love, some from other faiths, some with no true spirituality at all, all these people must burn in hell? I really struggle with this more than ever. God forgive me if I am supposed to be the witness to them, I am surely falling down on the job. If I am the one to stand between them and hell, to get them onboard the Good News Train, man are they in trouble.

I used to think like this: I have a backstage pass to see Jesus and Heaven and can invite anyone I wish. Got the lanyard and the VIP laminated pass, the whole works. Here's the thing though... it's still a tough sell.

Now, take that same scenario... cut Jesus and Heaven, paste in Mick Jagger and The Stones. Backstage pass, lanyard etc.. Who's going to turn that down? Nobody I know. So, as a Christian, I am supposed to believe that Heaven is way more exciting and important than a Rolling Stones concert, right? Then how come I can't get that excited? Maybe I need a glimpse of the show... a peek at Heaven. Maybe I'm not the best pitchman for the Gospel after all.

Where's Vince from Sham Wow when you need him? Billy Mays even...

Written

2009-04-10T17:05:00.001-07:00

leaves green with potential

hollows of trees, shadowed spaces

seize a man, bind him there

memory trapped, smell of falling snow

taste of stirring air

startled steps, heart beat drum

cackling laughter, devil’s stare

horns blow thunder

cries from under

still the Victor

hide away, tremble

all bow low, made to humble

castles laid waste, mountains crumble

Shoes

2009-04-09T20:19:00.000-07:00

walk a mile in someone's shoes

tell them then how to improve

point out to them what went wrong

how they could have got along

the error in their lowly ways

how better to have filled their days

chastise the fool for falling down

not staying there but coming 'round

and answering the bell again

one mile more to go my friend

“Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes.”
Jack Handey

Passover

2009-04-08T20:13:00.000-07:00

Darkening doorways, rising to praise,

spend Sunday in church, the week in our ways.

Forgive us our sins, they are many and great.

Wide road to destruction, too narrow the gate.

Days end it will find us, alone with our God.

Last first in heaven, or below shall we trod.

How narrow the gate? How wide the road?

Why must we buck so hard at the goad?

I Apologize in Advance

2009-04-05T19:16:00.000-07:00

So, I grabbed the mic, and whispered to the karaoke lady, "I want to apologize in advance". She looked at me with disdain and said "I will not, there is nothing to apologize for". Well, that was before she heard me sing "Under the Bridge". Perhaps she will accept my apology next time, if she will even let me have the microphone that is.

We had some fun, some laughs, and more than a few adult beverages as I recall. It was a long night that turned into an early morning. Somehow we end up in this bar that does karaoke and I end up singing a Red Hot Chil Peppers song.

So there I am among the regulars, the not ready for prime time singers who are ready for late night karaoke. I channeled Anthony Kiedis through my mind and being as I let it rip.

Magic happened... really...

Now, I have to admit, I am considering trying it again. It's actually kind of fun, in a "look at me I am singing in front of an audience and I don't know how to sing" kind of way. Giving someone like me a microphone and a captive audience is like handing your two year old the keys to your BMW and a credit card with open to buy.

Anyway, that's all I got...

2009-04-04T00:07:00.001-07:00

So, got some new boots today, they're called "Showdown". They are either the coolest or the ugliest boots I have ever purchased. I like them I think.

New boots take a bit to grow into the role that they are taking over. These boots have big shoes to fill, as the ones they are replacing were my favorite for years but are being retired now.

These "Showdowns" have zero road miles on them, no scuffs, scrapes or grease stains yet, no stories to tell or experience to share. Did I mention how ugly they are?

My wife says they are Edward Scississorhands-esque. I'm not sure if that is good or bad. Great flick though.

I think that they will do fine. They will grow into the part sooner or later. I am hopeful that they will have thousands of miles on them by this fall. Some stories to tell too. A scratch, a scrape, and perhaps some peanut shells ground into their very sole from some obscure tavern in some forgotten town. They can't dance, that's for sure.

Travel

2009-04-02T22:28:00.001-07:00

wanderlust upon me now,

time to hit the road

cruising on from burg to burg

lightening my load

work for food and stop for gas

a friend in every town

start her up and point the way

no chance to lay her down

furnace heat, and cold hard rain

driving me along

mangy dogs and dirty kids

a smile and a song

why's the heart so hard to please

the mind so far afield

these miles go by but never leave

my wanderlust revealed

Sucking and Blowing

2009-04-01T21:25:00.000-07:00

blank page staring back at me, "dare you to write something that doesn't suck"

so i play its game, grasping for something that doesn't suck too hard

this tripe that fills these pages here, no poet, ain't no bard

there's things to say, and stuff to write, and words to hear for sure

there's music and there's poetry, there's art and there is this

there's beauty, pain and in between, all sealed with a kiss

is nothing sacred anymore, is nothing left untouched?

words for writers, statues for sculptors, paintings for Van Gogh

this is just a try to fill a page with words that do not blow

... and the wind rushes in... blowing... mocking

Vapor

2009-03-31T23:45:00.000-07:00

fleeting moments, flying days, whirling spinning years

quickly fleeing, fleeing quickly, through memories and tears

through birth and death, death and birth, life is not for long

with seasons passing, passing seasons, sing me one more song

one more song to fill my ears to take me on my way

sweetest tune, tune so sweet, my head on which to lay

cue chorus... violins... and more cow bell for chrissakes...

Black Spider

2009-03-15T20:00:00.001-07:00

You big black spider on my wide white wall,

how do you stand there, why don't you fall?

You must know I'll crush you, but still there you squat,

and on my white wall is a big black spot.

(double spaced to look like more, picture inserted for your viewing pleasure)

River Wild

2009-03-14T12:54:00.001-07:00

In this night, no slumber takes me,

Dark still night, stillness kills the sound.

Dreams of flowing strong and swiftly,

Dark and quiet memories abound.

Bind my soul and keep it here,

The river wants it out to sea.

Stake it fast and hold it near,

It longs for more than light to be.

Rogue waters from the mountain,

Icy cold and wild roam.

Try again to grab the being,

Gently singing, far from home.

It flys instead, straight up away,

The restless spirit still unknown.

Soaring brightly, shining through,

Sleepless dreams, again alone.

...That's all I got for now... "Peace out Napoleon."

Let's Party!

2009-03-14T12:48:00.001-07:00

The night is young, it's loud and fraught with violence and with lust.

The night is full of drunken pounding, bass tones, stench of spilled beer and puke.

Smoke wafting through your head, squealing girls, wrong guys, they put their trust.

Loud voices, bragging tattoos, knuckles "love" and "hate", which one's for you?

"Laugh Now, Cry Later", masks of confusion and wrong choices chosen.

"Mad dog me bitch and I'll bury your ass, what the fuck you gonna do?"

Little girls who look for something, true love or just a good time.

Bad boys looking for little girls to hold, to make them feel like men.

The night takes grip with its own intent, sole witness to the crime.

Sweet soft petals, ripped sharply from their faces, smiles gone forever.

Grow up fast, better grow up fast, dim that light, and just pretend.

Tears last forever, old foes, old friends, the saltiness and sorrow blend.

Start Again

2009-03-14T12:43:00.000-07:00

Morning greets me through windows full of promises.

New day rises.

Trees warming limbs, stretching out reaching up.

Canadian geese fly.

Good day here, good day ahead, time to say hello.

Wake me easy.

The world moves in, the way the world moves in.

Comes to free me.