Posts Tagged ‘jasper Quince’

Quiet down now, beautiful little bygones.

Your melancholy harmony was you greatest allure.

When I walk away like a cowboy into the sunset, you’ll miss

The point, and that’s something I’ll have to live with.


I’ll throw around words of distaste like boulders,

Looking for the golden ruling, but I’ll never be able to speak my heart.

Down by the water hole, I have reflected more than a man does in a lifetime,

And I’ve found just as much, because there is only one answer, every time.


The past is Four Roses on the rocks, And after a few,

I’m drunk in memories. Though it’s easiest to forget.

Strangers will gather and help me sing this song,

That digs me deeper, closer to my grave.


The Aces of life I laid on the table doubled its value,

But the dealer knew better and rigged the river,

And all that time wishing for the jackpot,

Left me with nothing but kindly banter from the others being played.


Yes, the fear of untimely change can make a man’s paunch ache,

Biting fingernails and sleepless nights, snappy judgment, blind eyes,

Rest assured, everything will be alright.

But first things first, get through the night alive.


Today I’ll ponder mortality; tomorrow I’ll fight it.

And that’s the answer, every time.

Today I’ll drink and toast. Tomorrow I’ll find a new town,

And call it my own, until it’s time for my sunset again


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This is a Journey, This is a Test

Comrades, marauders, vagabonds,
This is a Journey!
We’re all welcome to join,
But I must confess-
The mind can mimic a field of crickets,
Chirping in unison.
The mind can mimic a field of mines,
Combusting all at once.

Nomads, wanderlust-ed, and all who are curious,
This is a test!
We’re all destined somewhere,
Whether we like it or not;
The soul in good hands finds a home with company to rest anew.
The soul in bad hands finds no home, no rest, and tries again from learned mistakes.

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A faith in friends tumbles on like the urge in cannibals,
Wrapped up inside the bandages that sap the color from the jowls.
Around the bend, we’ll always find them,
You can’t live with them, and you can’t grow a flower without its stem.

Where do we pick up the eggs of each day to juggle, toss, to eat?
Shall we embarrass our mayor, smoke crack, but be discreet?
Or wait at the mall, school steps, the army barracks for excitement to happen?
Are you the one that starts the war, orders, and lights the dynamite, captain?

I wonder, what we’ll make of all this,
When the sun has cycled so many times,
My mind crumbles, letting in less hits the more I miss.
And the friends I once had, fall apart like broken nursery rhymes.

Will I still be hungry like the cannibal,
Or will the bandages grow part of me,
And the inner animal,
Dies inside and hardens into the mummy?

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Silver bridge that slides along the crystal blue ocean,

Take me back when I was a born to run man.

Squeezing the sun and quenching a thirst for adventure,

I never thought afterwards, I would go nowhere  and retire.


Country blues, spurs, snakes in sand,

Take me back when I could understand.

And buck up, giddyup on the wild horse with my friends,

I ended up home with my eyes dragging on ends.


Dusty, zest, clumpy plateaus and mounds of martian dirt,

Take me back when I couldn’t get hurt.

Boxing life in Arizona, winning round after round,

But then I slipped, lost focus, and fell flat on the ground.


The white ocean, the ivory beach,

Take me back when palm trees were within an arm’s reach.

And I felt at home for the first time ever.

Where am I now, in space forever.

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Long beaten on the dead of night,

The cusp of something sculpting inside me, unzipping my skin,

Unraveling my tendons, just to scratch a rusted nail against my bones.

But I find peace, through the thick comings that are seemingly bleak.


While red bulbous lights hum with the soft echo of a slap guitar player

Jumbling out his heart to hear, I watch the geyser of a fountain,

Push the red reflecting water up, in a fancy parade of sparkle.

Still motion, let me stand from this bench and ascend to its rosy plateau,

To dance the water in bringing me higher.

But it just falls, and I am at peace.


Long beaten in the night with death,

The backbones of a spiny saguaro cactus, stand proudly.

Bereaved of water for months,

A burrowed bird den, that rots one side of its upheld arm,

It blooms a pink flower with a golden inside.


While looking down from 10,000 feet above sea level,

Into an ocean of brushes, brambles, and ironwood trees,

The howl of an owl reverberates between two orange rock mountains

In Sedona Arizona.

The rocks lead to a cliff I let my feet dangle,

And wish an elaborate orchestra could conduct my emotions of

A tide twisting frenzy between bewilderment and euphoria.

And peace.

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In a cold creek, we let it fly,

Then we reel it in.

In a scraped up aluminum canoe, comfy enough for just us,

We fish for pumpkin seeds,

Primped in fading, orange life vests, with our bucket hats like real men,

Dreaming of snagging a big mouth bass,

But surely it was always a myth.


It is these days, when the sun crinkles its nose,

Pulls the clouds in front of it,

And leaves for a cigarette.

And yet, that thought would never

Brush the finite layers of an innocent me

In this canoe.

Instead, I’m drinking old- fashioned bubbly, soda pop,

Reveling in the cartoon I watched last night,

To my best friend.


Remembering this now, I taint it, dilute or pollute it,

Until the creek is murky,

The sun hasn’t returned,

And there are no fish to be found.

Then why am I fond of this memory?


Sometimes, it takes more than just remembering to bring it all back.


From the distance, in shedding cattails, and tall shrubbery,

As the canoe grinds against the rolling stones underneath,

A white stallion, its nose dipped in black, breaches from the forest

And gallops across the field.

When the horse has become aware of distant eyes,

It freezes, lifts its heavy front, dirt caked, hooves,

And bucks into the sky,

Like a wolf at full moon.

Then just like it came, it left,

Me wordless, until now

When I relived the memory.

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Wanderlusting Eyes For You

Hard to come by, it’s no surprise,

The flip of a coin,

Could never reveal the writing on the side.

But when it stops it states what it implies.

scratch a ticket, win a prize.

And I’m strutting through doorways,

To rooms empty of air,

Led astray by other places unwanting,

Rooms that cheat and play unfair.

Where did our time together flock to-

In space, within the galaxy’s spiral?

All the blending colors,

A ring to marry the night,

The epicenter, a pretty, little pearl-

Or a coin, or a room, or wanderlust.

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