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Robert McQuate May 2017
Sanibel's white sands
Tideline shown by seashells
Refreshing gulf breeze
Jessica- Allman Brothers
Robert McQuate May 2017
My brain is suddenly alight like fireworks,
A thousand ideas spawning from thin air,
Things I've forgotten ten times over come back in a flash,
Birthday dates,
Phone numbers of old coworkers,
Names of films.

I need to find paper,
Need to write this down before I forget.
My phone rings,
I answer it,
It's a Telemarketer,
CLICK!

The paper before me lies mostly blank,
The only words written are as follows:
--------------------------------------------------------­-------
                                   Glass stopper
            Canada!      
                                  Pe
      Colin Hay                             black garlic


       ()**()
         /l l/
----------------------------------------------------------------­
          ^ Above is my best text translation of a doodled elephant head.

I'm about to scream,
Because I can't remember for the life for me as to why I wrote them,
It's all dialogue with no context.
A paper of hieroglyphs and me without a Rosetta Stone.
Statesboro Blues by the Allman Brothers is a good listen
Robert McQuate May 2017
***
   ***
       ***
           ***
               ***
                   ***

Aqualung is hitting me with blows from the guitar,
His watery breathing ragged as the percussion from his drums penetrates my  brain like nails.

Then,
What is this?
An acoustic guitar, Anderson, and a gentle bass lays me down,
Easing me down from the sudden hurricane when the old sod starts.

Then the last of the lyrics,
Anderson is begging Aqualung to remember him,
Desperation evident in his voice,
As the old man passes,
Rattling out one last haggard breath.
I hope you can guess the song that inspired this.
Though Dio's cover of it is extremely good.
Robert McQuate May 2017
I remember the stars,
One warm summer's night,
When I went on a camping trip with friends,
We were out in the middle of nowhere,
But more importantly,
I remember you.

You were an old friend of a mutual acquaintance,
The one who organized the whole trip,
And you were from out of town.

You were something else,
Nothing but curious eyes and dangerous smiles,
And a wit like nothing else.

As we took to the canoes,
I learned you liked the same beer as me,
Which no one else on the trip did,
You would furrow your brows when you were trying to recall details from a story
And you liked to laugh at my jokes.

By the first evening,
We had become fast friends,
I let you pillage from my beer,
The kind I brought because it was my favorite,
Inside jokes already formed and nicknames were just around the bend

You sat beside me at the campfire that night,
Shoulder to shoulder,
For warmth we both reason,
It was chilly,
Our friends gave us knowing stares that
We ignored,
Suddenly finding a patch of dirt or the fire very interesting.

I remember talking with you after everyone went to sleep,
Still on the log,
The dying embers our only real measure of time.

In the morning,
You were unnaturally energetic,
You say you're always like this in the mornings,
The dawn setting your hair ablaze.

We're back in the boats,
And both of us are silent,
It's not awkward,
But comfortable.

We reach the end,
And on the bus back to get to our cars,
Soon followed by us all getting back to our cars and saying our goodbyes.

I don't mean to save you for last,
At least I don't think,
And then you're in front of me.

We chat just a little bit,
Delaying what we both know must happen,
Last night we both realized we would probably never see each other again,
You being from out of town,
We were delaying saying goodbye.

You give me this look I swear I could have known for years,
And promptly attack me with a hug,
Giving me a very warm and inviting kiss.

Then you were gone,
Driving down the road,
And out of my life.

I remember the stars,
One warm summer's night,
When I went on a camping trip with friends,
We were out in the middle of nowhere,
But more importantly,
I remember you.
A.k.a. 1:20 A.M.

This experience also comes to mind whenever I hear Jethro Tull's- Look into the sun
Robert McQuate May 2017
I'm just laying here in bed,
Ian Anderson is explaining to me through my headphones,
Of how alone I could be,
If I made the choice of going my own way,
But that I would find what I am looking for.
Inspired by Jethro Tull's- Skating Away, on their album Bursting Out, a personal favorite of mine.
Robert McQuate May 2017
Have you ever taken a moment,
And really think about perspectives?
To some a trivial matter,
The others it is the whole world.

Think about someone you might have passed by today,
You just see a man who is wearing a camouflage hat with a woman and you'd presume their child,

But to his country he was a warrior and a true patriot,
Who gave all he could and is forever marked with brands of war,
Physical or otherwise.
Who was the perfect example of what it meant to be an outstanding soldier.

To the woman he is a provider and her rock,
An upstanding individual who's been at her side
Through thick and thin.

But maybe most importantly,
Let's look at the perspective of the child,

To the child the man could beat Superman in an arm wrestling match,
Could beat the Flash in a foot race,
And outsmart even Batman.

Or perhaps to the child, the man is the chaser away of monsters that reside in the closet,
The kisser of boo-boos,
And an always willing participant of made up games,

In both of these scenarios,
The man is a hero.

You just need to look at it from the right perspective
Not entirely sure I'm satisfied with how this came out.
Robert McQuate May 2017
Sometimes I feel like my life is this canyon,
with a river in the bottom of it,
And that I'm on a raft,
Paddling along.

And in this canyon,
From my raft,
I can see those who have been my mentors,
Up at the tops of the canyon,
Calling out to me if they see rapids ahead.

So far they've been pretty good about it,
Not saying there haven't been rough patches,
A couple of close calls,
But I'm still in one piece.
I know that up ahead though,
There's whole lotta rough stuff,
And my lookouts aren'tt going to be of much use.
So it'll be just me against whatever's up ahead,
With nothing to rely on but my own wit.
It'll be like the bad 'ol days.
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