Sewer Wheres

From here to there we dream, dream of things we want to be and project ourselves to places we would like to be.  We live, work and move forward with it in mind.  Hope to Lord we don’t stop.  Imaginations, they seem so realistic and tangible.  They’re edible.  I know they’re edible because I eat them.  But I can’t help regurgitating into my toilet.  My self goes with it.  Speeding down the whirl pool I see random chunks of success and orange oily streaks of future plans only half digested.  The walls have no grip. The porcelain provides only an uncaring torrent that rushes down the dark hole of reality.  Everything is OK though, I feel better every passing moment. . .Only I wonder if I’m not just happily smiling in the dark now, walking through the green and black gunk of a dark stinking sewer, blissfully moving in ignorance, marching, whistling a jolly song, high on the imagination of future and present lies. Blinded by dreams another day, maybe a new one today, certainly it’s not the one followed yesterday?

Time Moves Quick Too and The Blessed

There it goes . . . there they go.  Blessed are those dressed to impress, and too,  the new shoes, the new hat, the eye candy I met last night at the bar, all of it, the nostalgic smell of smoke now clinging to the neck of my new sweater, the many slaps on the back from people I don't know. . .dirty hands, all that devilish money I spent. . . my shinny wallet, yes of course the whiskey the whiskey the whiskey poured smoothly down my throat for father and holy ghost and yes the blurred sentences of pure genius I know I constructed with mind and mouth but can't remember what about.  It’s was all but a funny late night t.v. show I use to watch when I was a little.  Oh blessed time I move too, and for you?

A Life Today is Wine Tomorrow

Well now. . .hello.  This is my first blog in all senses of the word.  I guess I will start off by saying hello and I am glad to have a place to write things down so that the wonderful world of people can view it.  I thought this space was specifically for authors of genius caliber, but it seems it is for scribblers like myself as well.  Lets get started.

The subject in my mind lately has been life.  I have been wondering what makes people want to live.  I drive around in my little red truck and see people walking on the sidewalk and watch them conversing with one another on their porches.  I see small children in front of the elementary schools awaiting their parents.  I watch people get messed up on drugs and get to see the young with big ambitions running off to college.  Talking with people at the market and sitting with them at the coffee shop gives me minutes of entertainment.  People, young to very old, talk and speak about their lives and it all sounds so interesting, but "why do you live", I ask myself.  Why do I live?  Does the question have to do with religious faith, or is it one that has ethical structure?  How about for those with children, certainly they have something to live for. . .yes of course they do.  I ask myself this question  to see the pros and cons of living this short, limited, materialistic, self absorbed life as a human being.  I know we can make the world a better place with the wonderful things we do but time passes so fast and we hardly reap the rewards.  So I guess we live because we have to. . .right?