Speaking Thinking & Drinking

Lifes Knowledge taken from many avenues from sweat equity or upper college

Courtesy easier to hide in writing, voices carry many tones, simple clatter rising, levels GROW as the beverages flow

More we imbibe the less we subscribe to Emily Post, wisdom and manners begin to blend with verbal garbage

Tongue twisters become more tasteless as the head gets more wasted, uncaring we become part of the local show

More we drink the less we think, simple minds make companions easiest, tomorrow far off behind that mental blockage

Did Hemingway think he would make a future A.A. quote, Wonder if his liver were about to quiver or the blood alcohol levels were about to overflow

Speaking, thinking and drinking can become a mess in a sentence, if mixed the wrong way they might require bail,
be cautious what you wish for under the mistletoe

Will we recall to hold back the words at the next happy hour, or as always, a few ounces will have us hollering like it was our last rodeo. R.C.

Histories Mystery

Lost in the past a life known to few covered by new souls who did not know their true roles

She never made a plan blind to a future she could not scan, ways of life not always pastel and paisley

Was her howl the only one that day, how much the cost for penance paid, SIDS or SUDEP still unknown acronyms

Was it the sandman or monster under the bed,  was  left as mystery to me, secret family history

Did her last caress fade to black,  soul left in silence, hidden grief no relief, left alone blind to life's challenges

After the Four Horsemen deliver their message nothing else matters, angel of death laughing at her misery

Secret soul like a fly on a wall but a White elephant in the room no one spoke of those unseen, left to ponder if Mom ever wondered about the lost narratives

I was told to LIVE for today, You're living your some-days today and tomorrow, left alone with no memory does not define synergy

Left in the dark, No new light of that night, Mangled memory did she always feel Unforgiven? Mom's secret left without answers

Alone we were left to Ride The Lightening, full of energy and unique but always that internal mystique, Her actions mercy left as fodder for the antagonists

She never came clean of what was seen leaving a lifelong question but there would be no ME without Rick Lee.
R.C

Black Room
In the Black room with walls of black curtains when my mind was vacation

Starlings became personal darlings, Dark eyes gather no moonbeams

Holding back all daylight, Dark blocks the vision like mental images in remission

Stuck in this Pace with a mysterious shadow, where Grey would seem bright no glow on the edges

You cried NO ropes could hold you, NO ONE would scold you, still left in the darkness with a mind and body in detention

Bought the ticket, covered all windows, Create a sad time putting my own mind on vacation

        " As I walked out, felt my own need just beginning"

Create a new Line, unknown waiting, for a lost train, restless withering

Ghosts unseen, traces of  those faces hide from themselves, Shadows outside always creeping

Party with a rough crew, her smile a hint of kindness in the dark night

Old wounds left open, never forgotten, like scary traces where the shadows talk to themselves

Return to a jungle mindless dark eye, time for redressing open new windows, unfriending Starlings

Letting light into the dark, creates new shadows that are no longer afraid of themselves. R.C.

Jukebox jingle
Wonder or ponder for memories of mom's song

When searching for something I can hold onto, feeling F.M. from the kitchen or flipping 45's from a bar room

Bottles or glasses mixed with ice behind a bar have a unique symphony, ONE voice ABOVE the rest comes out strong

Beatles or Elvis followed by a country crooner sets a tone even sooner, placing her with ONE melody too much to assume

Nickels dimes make a rhyme adding up to quarters, loose change promises a full range of emotion appeasing the throng

Melody selection given picked for a payee always up for election, a few free from the house helps the mood to resume

Sonnets become symbols, Fun not fiction can create livable function, many would do anything for that familiar ring

Collective ballad would be a mixed salad, theme from jeopardy clash with glass, slivers of silver mark tips in a jar cash register ringing would leave my MOM singing at a small-town Kansas saloon

Sounds never go away but feel blessed not cursed that they are in my head to stay, few dollars an old juke box make it mellow for this fellow, take away that ghosts' sting

1 through 100, A to Z, big box on the floor ready to set the score, thoughts of her create that familiar internal stir, left fetching for mementos on anniversaries, passion changes like top 40 and the smell of Avon perfume. R.C.

Casts, Braces Or Slings

Night or day blend into one, windows blacked out, limit all doubt
Holding back hurt, mental game to disguise deep pain
Knowing others DO feel like me but they are not here to see, that philosophy hold lots of clout

        Here in my room
Soon to test the limits of my soul, Life WITHOUT GRIEF major relief
Tomorrow's mystery will be if I Capture a fracture, closed, open, hairline, new day await another X-ray
...............Breaking Bones........
                                                                                                                    
Backed into a corner hiding behind the light, unlike many I hold back over bearing internal fright
She will soon be throwing her stones, Loss of air, SCREAM of death
Who will I be when I awake, nervous neurons playing foresee my fate

Here in my room
Soon to test the limits of my soul, Life WITHOUT GRIEF major relief
Tomorrow's mystery will be if I Capture a fracture, closed, open, hairline, new day await another X-ray
...............Breaking Bones........

My room, a bed, became a padded throne, revolving time has no zone
Longing to lumber or to be put under, past flashbacks of TWISTING my lumbar
Mystique of fate hangs like a black or gold gate, which entrance or exit always an unknown

Here in my room
Soon to test the limits of my soul, Life WITHOUT GRIEF major relief
Tomorrow's mystery will be if I Capture a fracture, closed, open, hairline, new day await another X-ray
...............Breaking Bones........

Have we held the door closed to long, blind to the good adjusting too easily with the wrong
Unexplored outside grows larger while the walls closing in make a room smaller, do we give up or call the queen of hearts on her bluff?
Have the number of bumps or bruises increased over time? Has age just showed me I am not as strong?
Many gambles as we ramble, move forward into wicked wind, are we failing to foresee a fine future or blinded by hate without feeling love

Here in my room
Soon to test the limits of my soul, Life WITHOUT GRIEF major relief
Tomorrow's mystery will be if I Capture a fracture, closed, open, hairline, new day await another X-ray
...............Breaking Bones........

A Better Taste Than Kale


We Skipped the light appetizer
They had become such a bore
Restaurant was kinda *****, there were cockroaches on the floor
Place was so crowded we did know what was in store
Juke box humming harder as bugs flew across the ceiling
I told them I DIDN'T drink
as the waiter ran away............

So not much later she cried rather have a mater or a tater
Miss Miller SCREAMED her tale
In her face you could plainly see
She cried there has to be a better taste than KALE!

Vegetarian waiter returned and said "There is no reason"
The truth is obvious to ME !....Would not let Miss miller be!
Flavors quickly falling like a house of recipe playing cards
She said put the meat in the fire I am NOT one of the vegetarian virgins
who came in from the coast, oh my eyes were OPEN!
But the waiters were obviously closed!

So not much later she cried rather have a mater or a tater
Miss Miller SCREAMED her tale
In her face you could plainly see
She cried there has to be a better taste than KALE!

She said! We are home on shore leave, had plenty of ****** food at sea!
She was SCREAMING for her drinking glass and I was starting to agree !
Recalling King Neptune had warned us about barmaids named mermaid
She was smiling faintly and once again began her plea!

So not much later she cried rather have a mater or a tater
Miss Miller SCREAMED her tale
In her face you could plainly see
She cried there has to be a better taste than KALE!

Sound of music was stronger than the waiter who was a Queen
Didn't know the front from his own behind.
The truth is the restaurant was not very clean
We had not ordered, starting to eat the menu cardboard
Making us miss that ocean meal and the shipboard bed
Smells and sounds HER VOICE come quickly

So not much later she cried rather have a mater or a tater
Miss Miller SCREAMED her tale
In her face you could plainly see
She cried there has to be a better taste than KALE

Sax Sets The Tone

Pick or choose will vibes come from Jazz or blues

Music often invokes passion, playing from the heart reads from a musicians chart

Many notes get varied votes, orchestral highs too skid row lows

Enjoyment a goal with their deployment, free verse is footloose while Romantic feels poetic

For rockers guitar often takes lead, other styles use woodwinds to set the speed, maestro out front for their shows

Alto, baritone,soprano,different levels to revel, split reed distorts the feed, minstrel moans wildly while a crooner leaves us lovesick

Many think jazz as boring, while mellow fellow rises to screaming madness before realizing to whom they owe the gladness

Many sounds from minor or profound fill a niche melodies answer a hidden wish, true artists can naturally FEEL authentic

Wonder now if Mr. Sax would relax hearing how his sound has become so profound, widely heard from orchestras ,bar rooms and radios

We are left to take our pick of how a sound will get our vote, systemic strumming or a low humming,from Brass you ask? for some the equation only answered if the SAX is majestic.
R.C.