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Imogen 5h
It pulses and twitches like a nervous heartbeat,

The throb
Of your fingers

Tapping an absentminded concerto
Against the mahogany,

Harmonizing

With the throb of my own

Fluttering disquiet ⸺

Palms outstretched
Taut, tense, and waiting
At the bass-line below the table

To catch the tempo of your consciousness
On the harp strings of my fingertips.
A combination of some random jottings I made awhile ago and reworked into one text.
I need you to know
That life keeps flowing
People miss the big picture
So caught up in tomorrow, they cant see how much it wont matter in a week
In fact by then, they'll have a new tomorrow to worry about

I need you to know that our hearts beat like cellos and our blood runs like ink
That no one has ever had to listen
That the world is still new and there is still so much to change
That the sky is still waiting for exploration
And so do the deep seas

I need you to know
That people are kind, or they want to be
And bigotry is only a product of parents who are a product of theirs.
And that people who change for the better are reaching themselves
And those for the worse are losing themselves
Because people can change their habits
But not themselves

I need you to know
That we all die
And life is like a solemn orchestra
Serenading you to loss
But never forget that beyond what the music brings
It truly is beautiful

I need you to know
It all deserves the world, every last detail
And that Nocturne No.2 will get you through anything
And that it's all about outlook

As we depart
I need you to know
That ink runs like blood
And cellos beat like our heart
And people are kind
And the world is an adventure
And emotians are art
And art is emotions

Above all
I need you to know
Embrace the world with open arms
And you will be everything you contend to be
When in Bohemia, she screams about
Her pastures green, but not too loud
So never have I known, that the world listens too
As a comedian, I see she belongs
But never conforms, to the song of
This nomad world, I'm glad she found it too
So run! She wants to run again
You vagabond, you're well-spent

Bohemian tendencies says, “you can't stay long”
“These kinds of commons, you won't ever get along”

Armenian, it’s such a release
Materialistic animosity
The speed of life has no value, like dollar signs
I loved an alien, who dabbled in art
Of all visage, enema of the heart
Wanderer, she's spent so much but there's that bliss in the air
So smile! It's all sorts of worthwhile
To see a world and not fret so much

Bohemian tendencies says, “be spectacular
Before the nebula men steal your fur”

In the Caribbean, you dream a kite
As your taxi, you can't walk all the time
Travel hills of puce-mauve sands, the world in trance
A true deviant, the thinking of
All dreaming thoughts, and loves begot
Tinkerer, what will we do when our brains run dry?
Oh, no! Don't think about the end
To love a life in due pretence 

Bohemian tendencies says, “think fair, live now”
“The world is watching with distaste of time in doubt”

As a chameleon, should she go alone?
The world is cold, except for times in colour
Her world in dance, she'll do without me
When in Bohemian, the first I've seen
Of pastel stencils through her happi-
Ness-tled in her loft home of the wind
There she goes! Ain’t she a lovely wing?
I hope she finds a world that sings

Bohemian tendencies says, “to love and to hold
But to let go, for treasures can mold”

There she goes
There she goes
There she goes
bk 18h
I deal with sad times
Listening to sad music.
It helps burn the fire.
Let's it rage and gently
Lowers it back to normal.

b.k.
My backpack ready for anything, I left for a voyage across the pond, as fellow passengers climb aboard I met a 27 year old traveling musician named Russ carrying his cajòn. He told me of his travels from Massachusetts and pending divorce. We related on this and exchanged CD's. Behind us sitting on the Ferry were two young girls working on a puzzle. Russ imposed himself and tried to impress them with his musical endeavors. These girls were in America from Germany attending college. One was 17 and the other was 18 but I am sure they knew better than to play into his hand. After talk of language and culture we disembarked. Russ invited me to his show that night but I had plans to meet a girl at a board game pub. I walked to the bus stop while smoking my pipe and caught the number 40 from downtown to a trendy neighborhood up north.

After I stepped off I found myself amongst the overgrown players of games and drinkers of fine beer. Brittany arrived and we chatted over IPA's. I explained my recent challenges to get the topic of divorce out of the way before we left for Mexican food. She was very open in saying I should play the field and not have a serious relationship. I agreed with her take but could not read her as well as I had hoped. She said I need to get the rebounding out of the way and explained that she too is struggling with commitment. Being 34 with no marriage or children under her belt she feels that therapy is essential to figuring this out.

We walked to our happy hour destination and shared Nacho's while drinking "Colorado Kool-Aid". Both of us having spent a lot of time in Denver we could relate on much but I felt there was an elephant in the room. Afterwards we walked to a nearby record store and browsed while talking about music and interests. She had obligations to housesit and watch pets. Dog walking is her profession since her departure from the world of corporate accounting. We walked to her unkempt sedan and she gave me a ride back downtown. We talked of hanging out again but our schedule may not permit for some time. I wonder if she will entertain my company without reservation, only time will tell.

I decided to phone my old friend from Denver who lives near and devise another plan for the evening. The sun was still shining and I had no reason to return home yet. I walked to a nearby brew pub while waiting for him to come pick me up. I sat at the bar with another traveler named Dave. He is an airline pilot close to retirement from the state of Texas. We talked about my time in the Navy and my pending legal woes. He's been proudly married for 30 years and counts his blessings that he is still in harmony with his wife. My friend decided to meet me at a concert in close proximity to my date with Brittany. Once again I would take the number 40 uptown. Dave bought my IPA and gave me words of encouragement and complimented my persona. It meant a lot and I thanked him as I said goodbye.

While waiting for the bus I asked for information from a woman in her early 50's. She works for a tech company nearby but was happy to help as I had a more pleasant vibe than most of her young, urban, unprofessional colleagues. While unsure of my way she directed my move to get off at the next stop. I walked up the hill another seven blocks to the show. While smoking my pipe along the way another bus rider was two steps ahead named Nate. He was curious about my pipe tobacco and we gave brief anecdotes about ourselves. He offered to buy me a quick beer before my concert. I took him up on this offer as we walked into a nearby market. He purchased several large cans of domestics and afterwards we headed back down the dark boulevard towards the Abbey drinking our brew. As I arrived at the former church venue we parted ways peacefully.

I ventured into the bustling scene concealing my open container while finding my friend. I sat just as the opening act started. We enjoyed three musical performances but the star of the show was the beautiful woman from Denver that we both enjoyed during our time there. Feeling that we should explore the venue where Russ was performing we made our way there. I was sad to discover the brewery was shutting down before 10pm and the band was long gone. We decided to walk to the nearby singles bar playing music so loudly it could be heard from a block away. This strange place was crawling with many folks of the beautiful sort but nothing seemed to be attractive about it. We had a glass of wine and a shot of bourbon. I spoke to the fellow DJ for a moment but there was no dancefloor to be found. We decided to venture on.

We walked up and down the avenue and discovered another Mexican food restaurant, beaming with the young and the foolish. Our community seating was met with overly affectionate couples to our left and valley girls to our right. Our Tequila mules hit the spot with our Nacho's and late night platter. The girls spoke of Denver people which I thought strange. Why so much co(lorado)-incidence in one evening? I injected myself into the discussion and was met with friendly conversation. Unable to finish my Nacho's I knew I had fulfilled my share of fun for the night. This was the fourth time I had eaten nachos this week. We proceeded back to the urban adventure wagon and made our way to the slums of the tech-boom. My 2am slumber was met with an air mattress of great quality and woolen blankets.

I awoke at 7am to the clouded sunlight peering through the sliding glass door. I laid awake with my stomach turning from the many Nachos not yet digested. I browsed my phone for more potential and found two exotic beauty's, one from the Philippines and another from Brazil. Both much younger and too much for the eyes, we started talking throughout the rest of the day in a digitally romantic sort of way. My housemates called me about needing to move my car for restriping the parking lot. Fortunately I left my keys so they were able to do this for me. I smoked my pipe on the patio while my friend "hit the gym". When he returned we decided to walk through the arboretum by the university and enjoy the sunny autumn day. Afterwards he dropped me off by the ferry where I waited an hour drinking beer at the commuter dive.

My conversations continued with my teeter totter of worldly women. One had invited me to meet her before I go to work at 10:30pm but this plan fell short due to her friend running late for a planned dinner which would carry into what little free time I had to sleep or even eat. During my ferry ride home I walked up and down the passenger compartment looking for a fellow rider to play cribbage. I had no such luck and headed for the observation deck. While the city vanished behind us I struck up a conversation with a young lady from Manchester who had just returned to living in the US. We talked about the nature of selfies and the conflict of living in the moment. As we spoke a man approached me who had overheard my request for a card game. We walked back inside and sat next to an abandoned puzzle with pieces scattered about the deck. Mark introduced himself and we shook hands. It was not until he shuffled and dealt the cards that I realized this 45 year old Asian man only had one arm. His ability to shuffle and deal was impressive. His skill with cribbage was more than rusty, after one game I had a victory so great I felt guilty. He too is going through divorce and seeking a new job. It was a great way to pass the time with a fellow passenger.

As I readied myself for the porting I noticed a familiar face, a young sailor I served with in Mississippi. Our time spent together was met with sorrow as we faced similar career challenges. I had not seen him for several months but he almost did not recognize me. I had lost 50 pounds, left the Navy and become single all in a matter of a few months. I assured him I was on the dawn of newfound joy and wished him luck on his upcoming deployment. I patted him on the head as he seems like such a lovable scamp to me at this point. I exited the terminal to saunter back home. I smoked my pipe while crossing the bridge enjoying the last hour of sunlight.

I settled my belongings at home while serving myself a can of chili and a cold IPA on draft from my housemates tap. I joined him for the end of a baseball game in the den and shared a few moments with my community. I slept for a couple hours and then made my way to work. So much can happen in a day.
Not poetry, but what is life if not poetry in motion.
Sex and drugs and rock and roll,
Hurts the body, frees the soul.
Lose your thoughts, absolve control.
Find the freedom others stole.
Last night,
When the clock struck midnight,
And as the artist sang their songs.

I thought about you in every love song,
Every sunset,
Every cold air.

Your scent lingers on everywhere I go,
Your presence stayed in my mind for eternity.

And I know for sure that we are never going to be together,
But I know for a fact that I have and always loved you.
I saw you in the music festival I loved on one summer night.
JAC 2d
How
musical
we feel

brushing
against
each other

a slow dance
of clumsy graces
a waltz in soft touch

socks
on the faux hardwood
kitchen floor.
New mildew mania, oh man-of-war
Live by the letter, and kill for the car
The dreamers, constrained by the fog they can’t see
I uttered this song in Breakaway Alley

A wandering blonde in the restless air
Their kids, half-afraid that they’re halfway to nowhere
Think what you may, they are not in a trance
Wield what they say and you’ll find that you dance

Upon every row, lies a flag waving by
Apartment gravestones kissing up to the sky
Now, must we try so hard for fake jubilee?
The happy ones live in Breakaway Alley

In Breakaway Alley lies the sun
Breakaway Alley is on the run

All the country crows, they’ve committed a crime
Each of their wings, flapping mad out of time
To fly with such freedom yet stay so cloudbound
Cacophonous sounds fighting for our own ground

The buds only look up for leviathans
To take them to the realm they misunderstand
To pity the fool that does not try to flee
We sit on our stools in Breakaway Alley

In Breakaway Alley lies the sun
Breakaway Alley has emptied the guns

The youth do not stir at the visage of hell
There is no romance in the streets’ calling bells
And while we may treat such a threat to be shown
The dagger of a mind is dull while unknown

The ravaged pretender spoke of the Romans
His gauntlets of gold, earned from fate’s happenstance
To escape his blood, he would face down the sea
The velvet hands shook in Breakaway Alley

In Breakaway Alley lies the sun
Breakaway Alley is due to be shunned

The eye of childhood feared the forgotten paint
They lay, unencumbered, on secular saints
The falsified folly in full leopard print
The troops in their trollies with pockets of lint

The radio is silent in time’s aging vice
We hear and don’t listen, bats spliced with mice
But maybe, you will see this sweet harmony
Remember the words of Breakaway Alley

In Breakaway Alley lies the sun
Breakaway Alley has finally gone

When the baby screams for the first time, aged five
Will it lament the loss of its life?
When the kids rear for a solution wherever you go
How much will it take to say “God, I’ll never know”?

Remember the words of Breakaway Alley
It’s not all you see, it’s not simply me
They call her name up to the stage
But she’s not sure she should go.
They call her name and yet
Her stomach practically explodes.
It’s not unusual and surely not so desirable,
But she knows it’s her moment so focus, focus.

I know she’s nervous I can see the sweat forming on her brow.
Anticipation, hesitation settles over the crowd.
Anxiety is swelling as the people keep staring
All the while wondering who this girls that’s wearing...

An aubergine Tanglewood.
She starts strumming and she’s humming, set the mood for the room.
Songs with three chords amuses the hoard
With enticing melody’s.

She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t see the eyes in the room.
She closed her eyes and now she’s all alone inside the venue.
It’s not so tragic as she thought it was gonna be.
Still a few more songs left so we’ll see, we’ll see.
Heads are nodding, feet are moving, they’re all feeling the vibe.
She’s the doctor and her music is what she prescribes.
The walls echoing the cheers but the room was too bright.
Nobody will notice when I change the lights to…

Aubergine to change the mood.
She keeps singing and they’re beginning to become unglued.
Ignite the masses and let’s toast glasses
To songs from the guitar.
A Tanglewood is a type of acoustic guitar
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