Nov 2012
I am the rest stop for truckers in the window
The dark and muggy photographic night
so they forget they've become widows.
I don't believe in kness nor turtles talking terror
Nor do I believe that the Earth moves from quaking tremors.
I am the cradle of the civil sight sorority
Making love to castles for I don't believe seniority.
I am the rebel which Camus told would come hold
The oldest, boldest lotus flower
Frozen solid in the cold.
Drinking Rose remembering young-old Auntie Debbie
Who had eyes like pies mixed in the ocean and a bevvy of
Insulation, house-hold and a water-forlorn view
With her lionness curled hair which the wind affectionately blew.
Sitting on her lawn chair, not on lawn but on the deck
She loved, she laughed, she looked to what she had inside her head
Like landing immigrants from countries far from White Rock shore
She had it all, she owned the sprawl, but knew she wanted more
and that she had it, glad it never took the sun from out the sky
Not once did the window break from sunlight in her eye
and doorknobs crawl left
as she sits so patient ready for the.. everything
ready for the.. everything
ready for the.. everything.
she's NOT waiting, she's just making
every single moment COUNT
lies and likes mean non to her as the counter fills up like a FOUND
fountain. she's rounding every corner in her Jetta
Uncle Jerry in the next seat, happy that he got to meet
with the women of his dreams
I see his eyes still gleam and scream
'I love you Debbie, love you Debbie'
Life and death is just the water
in the stream
forever flowing
Auntie Debbie was a river
and all rivers lead
to ocean.
she never really arrived
so she never really left.
hello, Auntie Debbie?
I know you go by a different name now.
Perhaps we'll each meet you again one day
a different body
a different face.
"You want to keep things on an even key, this is what I'm saying. You want to go with the flow. The sea refuses no river. The idea is to remain in a state of constant departure while always arriving. It saves on introductions and goodbyes. The ride does not require explanation - just occupants. That's where you guys come in. It's like you come onto this planet with a crayon box. Now you may get the 8 pack, you may get the 16 pack but it's all in what you do with the crayons - the colors - that you're given. Don't worry about coloring within the lines or coloring outside the lines - I say color outside the lines, you know what I mean? Color all over the page; don't box me in! We're in motion to the ocean. We are not land locked, I'll tell you that." -Waking Life
The dark and muggy photographic night
so they forget they've become widows.
I don't believe in kness nor turtles talking terror
Nor do I believe that the Earth moves from quaking tremors.
I am the cradle of the civil sight sorority
Making love to castles for I don't believe seniority.
I am the rebel which Camus told would come hold
The oldest, boldest lotus flower
Frozen solid in the cold.
Drinking Rose remembering young-old Auntie Debbie
Who had eyes like pies mixed in the ocean and a bevvy of
Insulation, house-hold and a water-forlorn view
With her lionness curled hair which the wind affectionately blew.
Sitting on her lawn chair, not on lawn but on the deck
She loved, she laughed, she looked to what she had inside her head
Like landing immigrants from countries far from White Rock shore
She had it all, she owned the sprawl, but knew she wanted more
and that she had it, glad it never took the sun from out the sky
Not once did the window break from sunlight in her eye
and doorknobs crawl left
as she sits so patient ready for the.. everything
ready for the.. everything
ready for the.. everything.
she's NOT waiting, she's just making
every single moment COUNT
lies and likes mean non to her as the counter fills up like a FOUND
fountain. she's rounding every corner in her Jetta
Uncle Jerry in the next seat, happy that he got to meet
with the women of his dreams
I see his eyes still gleam and scream
'I love you Debbie, love you Debbie'
Life and death is just the water
in the stream
forever flowing
Auntie Debbie was a river
and all rivers lead
to ocean.
she never really arrived
so she never really left.
hello, Auntie Debbie?
I know you go by a different name now.
Perhaps we'll each meet you again one day
a different body
a different face.
"You want to keep things on an even key, this is what I'm saying. You want to go with the flow. The sea refuses no river. The idea is to remain in a state of constant departure while always arriving. It saves on introductions and goodbyes. The ride does not require explanation - just occupants. That's where you guys come in. It's like you come onto this planet with a crayon box. Now you may get the 8 pack, you may get the 16 pack but it's all in what you do with the crayons - the colors - that you're given. Don't worry about coloring within the lines or coloring outside the lines - I say color outside the lines, you know what I mean? Color all over the page; don't box me in! We're in motion to the ocean. We are not land locked, I'll tell you that." -Waking Life
