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John Thomas Aug 2010
Individually notes and sounds are just hums, clanks, bangs, tweets, and twangs but together they offer us so much more.. like the ingredients to a fine gourmet meal, once assembled they dance passionately upon the palate with reckless abandon.. mingling for a second in a intricate pattern then changing forms the next, with each shift progressively stirring the elegant movements of the soul.. notes hang like climbers on the highest cliffs, inspiring the heart to race, while the feet move slowly or in accordance with the tempo.. seemingly commanded by some unseen human instinct that fires muscles into rhythmic action, man and music share the same brief moment of precious time and space.. I can think of no better way to spend 3 minutes and 30 second than sinking headlong into the skirmish of sounds to join the dancing souls they inspire.. what marvelous creations can be made from uniquely combining such independently lonely reverberations! Together, strung compellingly along with the woeful cry of a human voice displaying their bare soul in tune, they exist solely for your listening pleasure.. a release for them from the chains of imagination, and a capture for you.. carnal rhythmic instinct again makes the head bob with the tempo as the brain soaks up the sounds like a thirsty sponge on a baron sea floor.. two souls, perhaps distant in time and space, sharing love, joy, pain, and sorrow against a hauntingly beautiful auditory backdrop.. whether it’s the echo of piano strings being hammered by a man on one side of the earth, or air being delicately gifted from a woman’s lungs to a flute on the other side, the captured echo still compels a soul somewhere stranded in the middle.. and I am that soul! since the days of baying by cavemen to the progressive indie electro funk hop movement the feelings of the willing recipients of sound remain the same.. elevated, motivated, frustrated, sedated, or simply just in tune, and nothing matters until the beat slides away softly into the past.. in days gone by it only survived in the memory, the whistle, the heart, and the soul of the listener but now we are lucky enough to be able to hit “rewind” and resurrect the very same soul stirring ballad that plucked our heartstrings with just the right timing and rhythm.. we can play it over and over and dance close with it until the stars fade away and return to shine again the next day.. there’s no worry about life boorishly cutting in and stealing the next dance, leaving you lonely in a quiet corner.. now the notes of each song are captured and enslaved.. ours forever.. or at least until our own final hymn is sung at a solemn funeral procession.. until then, selfishly I continue my eternal love affair and dance with rhythm.. an open soul and a humble partner is all I can offer it in return..
By John Thomas

http://johnsbigpicture.blogspot.com
John Thomas Aug 2010
I sit electrified and bathe in the earthly hum of the mistress mountain..
My hair caressed by the wind and showered from a sunlight fountain..

I fill my lungs slowly with her beauty as I embrace and cherish the scent..
The clouds chase the sun and grin sheepishly with no fear or cares to lament..

This is truly a feeling of freedom in every glorious aspect of the term..
In love with mother nature as I touch her rock hard body and yearn..
By John Thomas

http://johnsbigpicture.blogspot.com
John Thomas Aug 2010
Someday Girl

Everyday I miss what I never had, that kiss, that feeling of bliss, leaving my head swimming in neverland...
Soft lips speaking the depths of aqua blue eyes… a brilliant smile that could stop traffic for miles.. I’m talking about a woman that’s just wild.. with a personality that could be bottled and sold in vials to melt the hardest hearts into molten piles…

My someday girl…

Walkin in the room with brilliant blond hair flowing.. exuding confidence and not afraid to show it.. pure beauty for sure you know it, when she can’t even be captured by the words of a poet.. I can’t describe my feelings inside I just know it.. someday I’ll be on a roll, meet her, and slow it…
Til then I’m patiently waiting... gasping to keep my lungs inflating… raspin verses til my tongues achin.. but I get frustrated.. cause I even visited churches and the nuns are taken..

Some days I think of giving up hope.. settling for something just to stay afloat.. but I keep waitin it out grasping at a tiny little frayed rope that’ll lead me back to the realization of my greatest hope..

My someday girl…

I hope to someday embrace her slowly… sliding my hand across silky soft skin to hold her closely… the sweet smell of her hair controls me and my heart dances to her pulse as she holds me..
I could spend eternity locked in that embrace.. if I could just find it I’d gladly step into my place.. but I guess life would be too easy if that was the case..  so everyday I tighten my shoes and keep runnin the race… stumbling through dates.. tryin to put numbers with a face… but none of em got the key to put my tumblers in place… so again I wait and I wait…

For my someday girl…

It doesn’t seem fair though, cause along the way I’ve met girls that I’ve longed to date… only to find out that they’re engaged or they’ve found a mate.. it makes me wanna shake my fist at fate..  give up, and roll a spliff to sedate and smoke it down to that last crispy trace.. but through it all I still hold that glimmer of faith.. that my someday girl will come and take her place… so I wait…

and I wait....

For my someday girl…
by John Thomas

http://johnsbigpicture.blogspot.com
John Thomas Aug 2010
Like a leaf falling unknowingly towards a blade of grass…
I impacted at dawn with the sound of a faded smash…
Invaded by reality, my brain whipped up a list of tasks..
But I quickly yawned it off in favor of dreams from the past…

How nice is it to retire to a place of wonder and passion…
When your days are filled with pondering your squandered rations…
A place away from heartache in a land of exotic fashions…
Strange tales of horror mixed with ****** interactions..

What a world it is that our dreams create…
Even giving glimpses of a future face..
Or maybe a real story from a future place..
Of guts and glory from earth or space…

They open Pandora’s box of ideas and images..
But unlike life, the dream diminishes…
Like the feeling of love lost with sleepy grimaces..
And the attack on your foe that’s lost it’s viciousness..

The ability to be in one place then instantly in the next…
The thought of how you got there never leaves you perplexed…
It just is what it is like the characters in this text…
Images of prisoners that your subconscious collects…

Lined up next to each other, depicting events…
Comedies, dramas, love stories, and suspense…
The feeling of realism is just so intense…
The horror is horrifying and the fortunes are immense…

That’s why I love these stories my brain invents…
So now I’m off to catch tonight’s main events…
By John Thomas

http://johnsbigpicture.blogspot.com
John Thomas Aug 2010
It’s dusty and I can’t quite see the road that lies ahead..
the wind is blustering, echoing the emptiness and dread..
I strain my eyes to try to see down the path that I’ve been led..
it happens to diverge and the lower path looks to be well seen and tread..

So I take the higher road…

The air thins and rocks seem fight my feet with every ragged step..
but I can’t seem to stop when every rising foot takes away my breath..
the view from way up top is unearthly, awesome, beyond picturesque..
but the road is cruel, rough, and jagged, ready to toss you to your death..

I still climb the higher road…

I claw and stumble further uphill towards the fabled golden plateau….
where the virtuous observe the lemmings on the beaten path below..
they’re just rushing to the end of a straight road, like the sullen crow…
true, the valley holds no danger, but it also holds no views to bestow…

So again, I take the higher road…

I see the point in the ensuing struggle and fight passionately to live my life..
I dance at the edge of every vantage point and soak up the majestic sites..
I give the world all my energy until I have nothing left inside but delight..
Then I’ll climb to the peaks for epic views and enjoy the highest heights..

I’ve earned it, for I took the higher road tonight..

I stumble and fall once more as I set out towards the mountain tops of gold..
elbows and knees battered and bruised but life has never touched my soul..
i've had my bones shattered and hope stolen but my heart was never cold..
I’m thankful for every single day alive, glad to see the meaning of life as a whole..

And all of this was given to me, because I took the higher road….
By John Thomas
http://johnsbigpicture.blogspot.com
John Thomas Aug 2010
I’ve been a cracked soul walking on whole concrete

tar black soles slappin rapidly under weary feet..
the slaps are getting old but still, they repeat, they repeat..
like energizer bunnies, beatin deep on the ground beneath..
the sounds drummin off the walls, comin back, an rattlin my teeth..
I added a couple curses and spit it back rattling the streets..

that day I became a shell of a man walkin on cracked concrete

Cerebellum in hand scratchin my head hopin for thoughts to leak..
caught me starin again, eyes open to the sky, posing like an artful greek..
had this eerie feeling inside, tellin me my soul is an authentic antique..
but I still got uncomfortable when my current eugenics got critiqued..
I’m awed and terrified at what’s to come in my last couple a hundred weeks..
but I knew someday I wanna see laughter passin over a couple of my childrens cheeks..

So that day I began to be a whole man, soul searchin and walkin on my own two feet..

I started off by scratchin words furiously on a tattered old blank sheet..
but I don’t do it purposely to get my name on a brightly lit, white, and gold marquis..
it’s just this is the only voice I’ve got to spit a Kodak picture of my soul for free..
so my hands dance out a thousand words on paper.. every moment, a snapshot of “me”..
I rush to gather the images before they drown in reality like hazy morning dreams..
they stand up as living proof of who I am so I frame em for this crazy world to see..

cause today I stand on solid ground with well planted feet, as the man my family always wanted me to be..

I am the conqueror of both whole, and cracked concrete!!
By John Thomas
http://johnsbigpicture.blogspot.com
John Thomas Aug 2010
The tingle passes quickly from your stomach to your throat..
Like silent cells singing every second seemingly shuddering to a note..
The breeze as she walked by me restarted the limp sails ferrying my boat..
Refreshed, her very existence left me with just enough clarity and hope..

I think I fell in love again, at least for just a second or so..

But days pass slowly followed each day by nights icy cloak..
Every lonely hour swallowed by the clocks mocking stroke..
I’ve never been a lucky man, but every now and then, I still try knocking on oak..
After bittersweet dreams of her slipping outta my hands again, wishing I hadn’t just awoke..

Cause in my slumber last night, I fell in love again, at least for just a second or so..

But every time it happens, it seems it’s gone as fast as it arose..
Back to the real world again, with the proverbial stone grinding on my nose..
All these feelings of love relegated to a cluttered mind full of prose..
Inspired by girls with stunning eyes, tattoos, glitter, and **** clothes..

I catch her eye driving by, and think I fell in love again, at least for a second or so..

But then traffic passes by and I’m shaken from my trance and left with nowhere else to go..
Searching a baron wasteland for the glance that melts the guarded walls of my heart built with snow…
I’d hike through the heart of France looking for romance or diligently circumnavigate the globe..
But sometimes I get the feeling that I’ve walked right by her and was just too stunned to say hello..

Makes me think, who knows…

Maybe I did just fall in love again... even if it was for just a second or so…
by John Thomas
http://johnsbigpicture.blogspot.com

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