Welcome to tonight’s show

Allow me to introduce myself.

I go by many names


Some of which, you may know
But those do not need to be mentioned
a howl, a moan, a scream, a summoning
Let’s keep this interesting.


This is the midnight calling
This is the raven cawing

This is the shadow lurking
And the jackals slurping

The demons wailing
While Charon is sailing,

The Acheron
The river
The first

The Eternal song
Of dripping livers
and Thirst

Stop

This is all confusing
And amusing
To some
And many
But to me it is painful

Demeaning
Putrid
Repugnant
Detrimental
Disturbing

And

A subjective simmer of passivity
A pious dose of sheer calamity

Once upon a time

In a land past the desert
Was a neon capped city
Devoid of hope

And shaped by
Casual nihilism

And too much money

A powerful portrait in all its brevity
The display of sweltering people melting against the asphalt
The mucous sunscreen and coarse sand between the toes

And crooked nails
And bleached hair
And coffee stained teeth
And pink nails
And Gucci purses
And Versace dresses
Shutter Shades
Corvettes
$5 lap dances

And promiscuous preteen slaves
To MTV
VH1
Pop sensations
Internet porn
Social networks
Smart phones
Model rock stars
Models
Interviews
Auditions
Mundane seductively
For him
Or she
The nepotistic aficionado

of  

Delicious, robust, superb, disdain  
Cocaine: Nose Candy
Heroin: Snake venom
After Parties: Gang bang adrenaline
Snuff Film tryouts: Garage studio
LSD: Acid
Plastic: Lips, skins, breasts.
24/7
Hits of E
X-T-C

and

Do you have change for a hundred?
Or a change for a life?

Cites in Dust
Thank Siouxsie and the Banshees; A carnival.

Shout
Tears for Fears, they’re Head over Heels

Love will Tear Us apart
From Joy Division, who claims she’s lost control

Los Angeles
“X”
Exene and Billy Zoom’s Wild Gift.

The perpetual rise of sunset rockers and Neon knights.
Teens crawling through the muck of socialites and incubator nightmares
Civil borders wired by racial slurs and salivating bigotry
Water replaced by blood
Spit interchanged for souls
And fire traded for icy methamphetamine

Warriors and survivors

Poets and dreamers

Shooters and inhalers

Geeks and groupies

Burnouts and Dropouts

Sweet dreams are made of this



Such a show, such a show! Bravo Bravo! Thank you, thanks to all I have time to thank: Martin Sheen, Julius Ceasar, Fender Guitars, Randy Marsh, elbow pads, Chuck Berry, Al Green, X, Joy Division, Tears for Fears, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Less than Zero, Alucard, Humphrey Bogart, Grace Kelly, Daryl Dixon, George Harrison, Brad Pitt, Rooney Mara (Love you), Belstaff, Emma Watson (Love you too), Laure Heriard Dubreuil, Manolo Blahnik, Hannah Murray and Michele Abeles.

So many to mention, so little time. We’ll be back.

.........................................................

September warmth is in the air,
That playful tapping
Of the breeze
As it winds its way
Through the laurel trees
That line Eastwind,
And finally
Up over the cobbled stone
Of Mr. Willow's
Sarsparilla Soda Shoppe.
And there he is,
Outside his storefront
Sweeping away leaves
And dust
And late afternoon
Cigarette buts.

Jabe's running around
Like a bobber,
Up and about the yard,
Kicking at the nectarine tree
And demanding it
Drop its sword
And surrender.
And Annie tells on him
Right respectfully,
Pointing all the while,
Letting Momma know Jabe's
Gonna get himself hurt
Again if that tree
Ever gets mad.

And Dad's outside
Cleaning the windshield on the car,
Eying every streak he misses
And then giving it a name
I'm not supposed to ever say.
He hits the car again
With the garden hose
And washes her off,
Suds and soap splashing
Against the concrete
Of the driveway
As Momma hollers out
At Jabe to get his rear end
Back in the house
And get himself ready.

I go in and change my shirt.
It's hot, the best kind of hot,
And the sky is clear,
And the Summer air smells
Like a barbeque. The best
Parts of Summer always seem
To come when you're heading
Into other things - and if you
Don't keep your wits about you,
You'll miss 'em. They'll just
Wisp away like dew in the
Morning. So I get a clean shirt,
Change my shoes,
And grab my sweater
And head out.

And there's Momma holding
Onto Jabe's hand, and he's
Not too pleased. And Annie
Is holding her SusieQ Doll
And wondering about the fuss,
And Dad's smiling and shutting
The hose off and finishing those
Last few brushes across the
Windshield.

In just moments we're all tucked in,
Windows all rolled down,
Heading up the highway away
From the sun. Momma's got
Her pointy sunglasses on, and she's
Holding her hand out into the wind
Like a movie star. And Dad's
Shifting gears and putting his arm
Around Momma, and I see
Airplanes taking off not too far away
In an open field, those kind you pay
Three dollars for a ride on, and
They swoop you over the town
And you get to see everything lit up,
And you get to puke in a paper sack.

But that's not where we're going.
Dad just drives right on by, and
We watch as the planes and their
Pilots and the little fat kid with the red
Hair disappear into the haze.

Further up the road the lights of the town
Gently flicker away, and the sun
Rests over the horizon, and stars
Peek out overhead one by one, watching
Us I suppose, keeping an eye on the
Shiny not so new car with the three
Streaks across the windshield Dad
Missed.

And the wind picks up just a little,
Still warm, still alive. And I stick my head
Out the window just to get the wind rushing
Across my face, through my hair.
Nothing like wind racing through your hair,
I thought. And I was right.

The horns brought me back to reality,
And up ahead I saw cars waiting in line,
And there was laughter, and the long
Tall green wooden fence lined the road
Half way to forever and back again.
Inside giant white unpainted signs
Stared at you, and as we pulled up
To the old man smoking on what was
Once a cigarette, he asked how many
And Dad said two adults three kids
And the old man peeked at us inside
And Dad paid a few dollars and we drove
Inside. Slowly, up and down and up again,
Like a sea of black asphalt. And Annie
Giggled.

Dad finally parked, and the car was
Facing up, like it was reaching up
Into the sky, except that the big white
Signboard was in our way. And outside
People were happy, had their radio's on,
Jumping, running. Other kids were there,
And we wanted to get out and run around too,
But Momma said hell no. And Dad kissed Momma
And got out and left us, and the dark grew,
And I breathed in the scent of hot dogs and
Cotton Candy and Popcorn and Pretzels and
French Fries and Hamburgers and it was
Like Heaven.

Seemed like forever since Dad had left,
And Momma got out and hoisted up a metal
Box onto the back window right beside me,
And then she got back inside and closed her
Window some. Annie asked Momma what
We were waiting for, and Jabe shoved his
Sling-Shot into my ribs and said "Stick 'em up."
And I took it away and tossed it into the front
Seat, and he cried.

Then the giant posterboard lit up some, and
Mentioned a snack bar, and I wanted to go.
After that they showed a Popeye cartoon,
And Dad made it back in time to give us all
Something to eat, say shut up, and take his seat
Up front.

I'd never seen a screen so big. Never knew Popeye
Could punch Bluto and still be nice to Whimpy.
And we laughed, and the warm wind tapped against
The car, and radio's quieted down, and everyone
Was drawn to the giant picture. And we laughed.

Annie and Jabe were both asleep by the time
Dorothy made it back home. And she was telling
Aunty Em all about where she'd been, what she'd
Done. And they rolled a bunch of names,
And Dad said so how'd you like the drive-in?
And I stared at the big screen with bright,
Wide eyes, wanting more,
I didn't want the words to stop,
The story to end.

All I said was that's the biggest tv I ever saw.
And it was. And I was right.
And I guess that's when Dad
Had to laugh at me again.

Copyright © 2012 Richard D. Remler

I'm tired of sitting here
Night after night,
Thinking of how the world could be better
But never taking a step forward.
I want to write something of importance;
Something WORTH writing:
I want to change the world
Save it.

So here it is:

YOU
ARE
W O R T H
IT

Never let  a n y o n e  tell you different.
Cause every life is unique,
Every soul is alive,
And the odds that you came out the way you did are
Astronomical.
You are an individual,
Who can't be duplicated;
Someone who is loved,
And will always be missed.

No matter who you are,
Where you come from,
What you do,
You matter to someone.
You're existence changed a life,
And irreversibly shapes the world.

There's a beauty in a mind..
And that is true for me
And him,
And her,
..But most of all for you.

Everyone has struggles,
Secrets,
Fears,
Dreams,
Nightmares,
Realities,
Light,
Dark,
Love,
Hate.

Every story has a beginning,
Only you can decide how yours will end.
So make it beautiful,
Make it powerful,
Make it change the world,
Make it worth writing.

History tries to teach us that
R E V O L U T I O N S
Are violent acts,
That they are won with Bullets and Gunpowder;

Revolutions are won with people
Who stand for what they believe in,
Who look into the fiery pits of Hell,
Who stare into the face of Death,
Who fight against all odds,
Who devote their lives to a cause,
Who shape the world with ideas.

Let's start a Revolution,
Let us break the shackles of society,
Reshape the human mind,
Dare to be avant-garde;
Here's your guns,
Let these three words
Be your ammunition:
"I Love You"

What is a calling and
who is calling you now?
Is your spirit calling you
to do the work of god?
Is the calling a new
hope for you in time?
Is time a calling for
you to change your ways?
Are the calling's a guide
for your new life success?
No one will know what
your calling is what to be.
Only you will know what
your calling will bring you.
-Sign LINK THE HERO OF TIME-