Funk. Riddim and blues. Its a new morning, Gloria, take out the trash and hem the fences the damn cows are in the neighbors fields again.
There is a dark veil clouding the vision now; it comes up from the depths. Wrenching a nut, and turning a screw. Drilling the concrete unyielding. Somehow nothing is created from all of loves labor - How can that be? The fortitude of the forbidden city's wall! Ah yeah! That once was soft and tender is solidified in reigns of the elixir stubborn. You will always pay the piper. When you step up to the rail, no matter if you bet 1 or a hundred, you will pay the odds. The "vig". The math.
It is a gamble, no? Everything one does, is a game of chance. Even the non-bettor. No? You dont bet, you dont stand a ...chance... of a win. So you gambled against chance. What of your life investment? What will you turn to in the moment of calling? Will you look back and say - damn! that was sweet! Or will in be with deep dark remorse of what joys and happiness you missed. Or ruined.
Not? Of course not. If you change the subject matter every time faced with reality harsh lighting, you never face forward, do you? To the rear evil realistic thinking! Irregardless of consequence, forge on in unthinking expenditure of time, money, and heart.
Fuck the money, it is that fuckin heart... ..
Really why trample that? What did the heart do to you? When did the heart curse you? When? It did not. The brain, yeah. The voice, yeah. Even the hands. But that heart ever dedicated, ever wholesome, never did. That heart is not perfection, but dwells in perfect love, love of the other.
Others.
Many more than one heart can bear. Isnt that why you unite? To stand together?
That be together; mingled. Joined. United. Copulated, and dancing in that lovely bliss of after.
After.
Remember after?
No?
After the rain, the odor lingers. Linger in the after. After the sun comes the shade. The cool after.
You can stand together, you can stand alone, but you will never stand behind.
Neither shall I.
Aloha.
3 comments:
waxing poetic...
mysterious...
good on you, surferman
stand ready
Hearts are our truth. Great post.
Heart/soul, and when the heart stops beating the soul goes on to infinity, I think.
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