Grateful Dead

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Anna rRxia's picture
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Joined: Dec 25 2009
And He Was Dead

In the cold of Winter
When the winds blow across
The Frozen lake
They found his body
In The Morning
On the street.
No shelter
Would take him in
He had a reputation as a troublemaker
Not even a church would do what Jesus said
In sub-zero temps.
So he was sleeping in his shoes
Neil Young style
Thinking: He's be better off dead
As he panhandled change
On the corner for his bottle
He drank his fill
and stumbled on the ice
and fell on the sidewalk
So good to lie down
He fell asleep
And froze to death.

Was it you
Who passed him by
letting him be
Anxious to get home
Paying more attention
To your smart phone?

JerseySchwartz's picture
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Joined: Jun 5 2007
Intuitive Followings

Follow intuitive certainties welcome acts of self determination
Implore transparency, accept hidden instinct of this noble incident.

Mediums must be maintain, surround silently in the space between
Anonymous nuance, obligated to reveal where there's nowhere to hide.

Reprove an actualized notion of promised forbearance
Acknowledge assimilated presence accommodating a nearing approach.

Spontaneous reflection immersed in hearts' definition
Delicate as a flowers contrast, comparable complexities.

Reasoning at a distance this familiar mystery
Resolve invisible hint, permeable clue.

Meditations confess, skull after-thought third person response
Inner voices witnessed in first person narration.

Ignore the apathy, senses rebuke the gray
Sighs and dramatic pauses reinvent the inevitable.

Wind resonates a dissonant harmony
Playing hide and seek in the steps left behind.

Transcend, source of origin constant remnant agrees to abide
Shake tribute offerings of burnt dust from sandals.

Ghost sorrow, a hundred years gone.
Discovered through the eyes of strangers.

Ventriloquist atones throwing voice into a mute phantom
Breathe outside of the self, adhere then disappear.

For the fortune of redemption returns us to where we began.
Promised in the offerings of yesterdays rain.

Mike Edwards's picture
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Joined: Jun 17 2007
Truth Value False

Absolutes
always
fail

Mike Edwards's picture
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Joined: Jun 17 2007
Psychedelicritical

Drop dead
beauty said

Not so fast
make it last

Mike Edwards's picture
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Joined: Jun 17 2007
Gmail Advertisements

What algorithmic perversities reside beside my Gmail?
I harvested this morning's crop for a closer inspection:

Sodimate screw feeder
Volumetric screw feeder
Silo unloader
Bulk bag dischargers

Farmers & Ranchers
Tell us what Americans should know
Agriculture is NOT a dirty word

If agriculture isn't dirty, they must be talking hydroponics
For a transactional analysis to yield this food for thought

jonapi (not verified)
an ark for the atmosphere to be filled with ether

acupuncture the hidden eye. shinto soak from darkened stone. seed ghostly beautiful fire. sink cluster mirrors. a wondered speckled karma. spirit spiral. sun initiation in stoned sunshine. soma shaker dead seashore tree. fire tongues the glimmer mount. fly into thunder and drip the bell immanence. who found the lost rose in summer's turn on? flicker night flicker, parched throat the communal balance, remembered humidity for the childhood steep. they are still there.

reverberate that sensual cave.

free idea's picture
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Joined: Aug 11 2008
Willy Lee Willard rip

You came yelling after me
"I thought you were dead!"
No, very much alive, instead
"Did you have a good NYE?"
NO, was all you said
You are a bigger man
Then the rest of us
They couldn't break you
So they drugged you
Right out of your head
Willy Lee Willard
You are my friend
Forever we walk
Through the roses
So red

Offline
Joined: Jun 13 2007
-----------------------------------(-----@

All there is
can become...
All that will be a memory
when All there is
becomes
All that is now new.
Then
All there is-is a
acme to what
was.

free idea's picture
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Joined: Aug 11 2008
the 1st of the 2nd, v.uno

Check mail
Pay bills
Go to store
Get food
Walk around
Breathe air
Try to smile
Act like I care
Clean up
Sit down
Get up
Look around

free idea's picture
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Joined: Aug 11 2008
part too v.dos

Headed to Mags for a
cup of brown
Down by the tracks
The crap treatment place
End of town.
Down to the lake to
Feed the ducks
With leftover waffles
and other stuff.
And to mayhaps
Enjoy a bit of the green
Mountains of which
I so love.
Over to the boathouse
to fancy me a salty skipper
Plying the waves
In all sorts of storms
In all kinds of weather
Now I stroll the sidewalks
Waiting to go into the show
where we can let it flow

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