She's an empty canvas
under sheets of red
Her legs spread out before me
as her body lay still

It was quite evident as a teenager , drawing Boston's guitar shaped space ship on the back of an English book , playing the opening riff to Smoke on the Water with a broomstick
Hiding in the closet , listening to Kiss's first album , singing in front of the mirror to REO Speedwagon
Bad Company on the eight track in my '63 Ford Falcon , taking a Guess Who album to show and tell in Kindergarten
Reciting every lyric on Three Dog Night albums , Foreigner turned up so loud that the windows would ratttle !
Learning Free songs note by note on the guitar , playing Born to be Wild like I was on a World Tour
My heroes are Page , Scholz , Perry and Geddy Lee ! Soundgarden , Alice in Chains , Mott the Hoople and Queen
Jimi Hendrix bringing his Strat to life , Eddie's blistering fretwork !
Crosby , Stills and Nash , three part Angelic vocal harmonies , Ronnie James Dio wailing like a banshee !
A Gibson through a Marshall , A Fender through a Vox , a Tele through a Peavey , a Rickenbacker through an Orange !
Jim Morrison turning poetry into song , Elton John baring his soul through the piano
Eddie Vedder in a trance on stage , Anne Wilson crying out in pain  , Layne Staley raising the hairs on the back of your neck , the reassuring voices of McCartney and Lennon , every musical note committed to paper by George Harrison
Chris Cornell screaming into the night , the aura of Robert Plant onstage
the sweet guitar work of Eric Clapton , heart wrenching soul of Janis Joplin
The wailing guitar of Robin Trower , the blues power of Rory Gallagher
Siren song of Annie Lennox to the infectious , brilliant lyrics of Tom Petty

after earning their first grammy, Eddie
Vedder stood with the other guys
in
Pearl Jam and said "I don't know what
this means or what I'm doing here."

how
do we put a grade on art? do we find
our
favorite poem and give it a smiley
face
sticker with an accolade like "good
goin!"?
do we single out a Mattisse sculpture,
give
it a round of applause and an Applebee's
gift card?

I don't have a grade for the
things
I love. that takes the fun out of loving
them.

I'll listen to your song. I'll play it
again.
I won't give it any stars but I'll give
it
all my attention.

I open my eyes against my will,
The light spilling in from the window at just the right level to bath my face in the rays of the morning sun.

Vedder's emotionally raw voice is coming from the radio in my clock,
His words attempting to smooth the pounding coming from my head,
But to no avail.

The harmonica an excellent segue to the playing of a song,
A complete opposite to Jeremy,
The strain on my eyes ease a little,
As I make breakfast,
It's almost gone by the time I'm writing this,
About to head out to do some landscaping.

Vedder is now telling us all a tale,
Of a boy who finds out a terrible news,
The man whom he calls his father,
Is actually his stepfather,
And that his biological father was dead.

His words haunting me as I go outside to work.

Articulate Throwback (Amazing Rap that Doesn't Get Enough Respect)
Fielding an eclipsed Jack the Ripper Sun
Yielding dismissal garish, begotten The Matrix smokin’ gun
Wielding a firebrand skittish
Skills levied an intolerable tax by quisling quoted British
Stunting on heyday levity marksman of primes
Flogged for flagrant dragons sinking nickels and dimes aimed beatific sublime
Flowing like centripetal orbit  galvanized by riddled spirits dashed in secondary impetus of reason over rhyme
Littoral swank partial to Taylor Series of dedications Speak Now peaks livid with fumiducts of crippled sheep blandished for reach
Apologies invited always welcome for a kitsch debased by universal theaters yet united for Payable on Death singing the deceit of receipts impeached
Islanders flooding suicides punning that a sunken treasure is barbs smuggling
Otiose on ribald corsairs blinkered by the rhombos of speculation thunder itself about lightning starts wondering
Where a City by the Bay shining on a Hill of travesties of decay tanks for domesticated Negros that flashbangs got to slay
To the wistful shaken house music garnishing the prey of prayer on heavy pulls of quotable 415 hay-day
The wrinkled stray dog never  far from *****
Slapsticks against the tribunes awaiting for meteoric functions of a recessive allele of a dominant comet
Ludacris flickers dancing in dormant revelry because On Top, Just Let Go..I am honest and On It
To the milk of harvested stars glaring at tankers and garish broken FaceMash scars teetotalers scatter with Thursday crashing into glass shards
Black fame is a white epiphany of infamy designated by name
Of the craven coltish spinsters who market the crackling whiplash of sanity apportioned to the regaled insufflation of blame
Streaky on a jejune Diggity hapless hop of Kumbayas etched by Trailer Park’s scalding flop
Glorifying a Gangester heir to titanic humbled beginnings chockablock divested to Kennedy’s dead Candy Shop
Impressive rags of riches of counterfeit tags blundering with lazy LASER Tag of sharks too bellicose to earn a pitfall pittance of swag
Trippin’ by tripwires too flippant to be flippin’ on known graves sidesplitters of treecheese yaggots grimaced on madcaps of bottlecaps swimming in ether of money too happy for House of Pain rags of gag orders intrepid because some blood is Bad
****** drapes of tapestries too woven on Ducking Badger duck tape
Pretending not even a slightest twinge of celebrity faked is a tantamount affliction to Kobe’s escape
Time to rig the 7/11 notoriety of a caper drawl in Cape Town Blue Sky Action can barely offer scrape
Let them eat cake and heads roll like Nicholas Cage clairvoyant in mystique quaking like a Quaker parody rank-and-file rancid graveyard creep
Cuz the best in the Business evokes singes of Dre grazed persistence a Space Rover rather than a broken-down drive-by Vegas Cheap Holyfield Jeep
Forgeries in trigonometric time gone haywire because ******* of fools is delicious neutered ballistic wrong with elemental statistic
Armed to the Teeth because twinges of righteousness is strongly established because it elevates truces well-predicted
Reckon the self-aware hive jetsetting with Jive warbles of departure yet to arrive
“Talk” of those fewer in knowledge yet living an invented diatribe
Lil Dicky mumbling his churlish codling vendetta
Too petty on the game like a turgid Mariah Carey Christmas Sweater evaporating on benzo bleats because exaggeration is a measuring stick more prone to delusion than the vapid version of Eddie  Vedder
Ripping through seamstresses of time a delope from impoverished cesspool grime
Certainly not swinging with sockdolagers like Musk as UPS owns insider angles about BitCoin riches scoffing at #11 Sublime
I owe respect to an upstart prescience scowling hatched never against fragile egg-shell minds
He’s the predecessor to the Walter White of cesspool inveterate rivets in hulking pretense of a measured stick lying like Tony  Hawk on the grind drawling on videogame addicts lost to numbers like Wall Street bet on fractions divisible like Scarface on cardinal crime
Blip on the WHIP cackles of clever pasquinade owned by sizzurp of Red Wings demolished like Draper balking at the West Coast ****** of East Coast royalty etiolating on Life After Death because of a teased script of March 26th shining bright like nine-inch nails longer than an exaggerated Dicky loving pollution more than Sina Loa loves bricks
Mad respect to juggernaut Michigan flow, but when you henpeck a rooster fewer regaled Ravens start to sing like Tomorrow’s sung by Sheryl Crow
So attack the kenspeckel hiding like sobriety itching to revel
Even the greats are grating despite prestige owned like Steppenwolf inventing Heavy Metal
Yet the raspy dengonin certainly a curtain call for the moribund smooth competition genius but not square to my elevated level
Time to brush aside, politics is a Velvet Morning rather than an Everest scaffold of glaciers divide
Flourishing Eden of a Seattle worthy of treason on rollercoasters yet to ride
The contumely of charlatans berating brassage is a Lie Boring in Federal Way united against prejudices scowling because Qwersy Mencia is too fraught to enjoy the jeers of a tattered Pride
Past-Tense Quinn in his Chauvin Blue Suit is Queer on The Bends
For a better radio the shatter of the quaff is Damon on the mendlatch for the rights of heroism among men
Applesauce is scary when the cooks are too chary for emoluments of cherry-picked vanity inoculated because hackneyed hacksaws aren’t that scary
To a Rush Hour acclaim that owes a Martian a fair-share of the inviolable degrees above freezing that guarantees the Hang Seng
The cretaceous dinosaur livid in the Fields of Dreams lives to the honor of the author rather a subsidiary prosperity rooting for the same exact team
Credit belongs not to slot-machine jibes of Navy throngs because the sealed pedigree of a Potemkin stonewall ravaged an Atlanta March that Richard Sherman found himself wrong
Ripostes of wavered glory serenade Field’s Medal accolades jaunty with brimstone repartee for persecution of Sing-Sang jailed avuncular Dana Carvey
Crumpled in missives etched decisively by Popcorn paparazzi Lee Harvey Oswald Part Three dinging Reagan’s Drugs because belittled Batman and Robin Harvey Dent is on a defalcation spree
Limited by the gambit of orbit I flex space measured only by perception hourglasses mistake for Dewey Decimal ministry
Because mountebanks of the tramontane canard unscrewed by Donkey’s without the triumph of vindicated colts spew the unwarranted without the warrant of upright parlance
Deflecting the useless caricature of Jezebels they barely even know dancing with fisticuffs choleric with jaundiced illuminati chants of an age bracing for the venom of viper’s of gratuitous pretense in violence because the whittled conscience scourges footloose profligacy in dementia that owns probability rather than certainty but doesn’t stand a chance
A billowing toxic fume of a Trojan Horse of galloped complicity of headless horsemen too scared to even pinprick the average Brett Hume huffs like mad wolverines dancing with Buccaneers for the fidelity of bridled brides with a tailored or sloppy groom
Cowering behind plashy starlets dashed for authenticity too soon
The Red Robin Hood ****** of silhouettes of Caste system indecency is reduced to reductivism in peddled paranoia of Randall Graves confronting his deepest specious tomb
To rogue slipshod miracles of denuded ice for Christopher Reeves Wally World White in Simple Jack owleries of confiscated light they caper encaged Caspergers ergotamine flavored favor uptight
Glaring prince dashing Rusty with ***** for Hummers glazed with donut torus hummus swift with reverend repartee
Sunken sleepless abyss ghosts haunt for quaffs evanescent in backbone bliss incurring parted sight for nebbich sprees
Calculated by persnickety prattle brazen with bravado promontory sparked on the flames of an overhyped hysteria ablaze
Raisins aren’t the determinant of a blinkered starstruck page gilded to amaze
Formidable reform conserved against blasphemies of ****
Withstands the immutable geotaxis of inevitable backfires in limited scourges of scorn
Time to sacrifice the badge earn the primacy of trimleggers making a dash rushing for hourglass sand prominent in fiat flash
In a second a trampoline against a specious marvel is a sour remorse of a crusade turning into protection not found in autumn ash
With autarky righteous rain boogies against bogeys of golfers livid with sensational inane
Lunacy predicated on sensational maudlin labors of Genesis 3:16 birth pain
Incurred upon the toil of the lugubrious heights of teachers that defy tribes and stripes
Soldiering for God without even the slightest nefarious mercenary spite
Because Ledgers cannot be mistaken for legends because petty battles Abandoned Pools named were avoided for Nobel Prizes of moonshot fame never King Kong because 24k magic called the Hang Seng  game enter stage right
The thematic liberation of the freewheeler isn’t a combustion of truckers Ruckers allergic to chattered shame
But the time honored Sevendust defies blisters because a brave heroism leaps into legacy vaunted by cheery repute in winning hegemony against rigged fraud in frigid feral tames
I march to an inaugural chance without a chance of quick inauguration because Junetao is a duck-duck-go childish flicker against Amsterdam Vallon besides the church with a touching spectacle of solidarity beyond temporal Anacondas of deserved blame
An ally to the kitsch the prosperity of Nas is afforded to optimism never so fulgurant because of a bewitched Tik Tok twitch
As the true flock regards the true shepherd the guardian of wonder and the captain avoiding Yellow Submarines because Stayin’ Alive is a prophecy not a febrile contagion of germs pitching tents for flukes insistent on incident rather than honorable to Canada Dry on Strike for better than a bubble gum mumble rap of Lil Pump’s pruned humps for a ******* ghost rider rather than a profaned itch
But the camel survives because the needle doesn’t thrive in a world where God is always Stayin’ Alive to strike a pose for the voguest Jive
“The Seduction” lives and the corruption limps with glib bribery fibs because 2 Timothy 1:7 in autarky is a generous rhyme that  gives and gives
In endless crusade to beat like David the ***** of a poker miracle that stars in a showcase of a life of splendor eternal rather than a cursory kamikaze reckless fib
Its time for  abundance of life to be lived fully to truly find riches in the best possible life winsome in discretion to quake and yet remain immune to a Walgreens of Stonewall myth
Cast not the first stone against the immaculate Giant because everybody is shaking to Bond and Saint Joseph’s guarded wordsmith

I remember thinking I couldn't listen to Led Zeppelin anymore
when I discovered punk rock.
I'm glad I was wrong.
I used to worship Eddie Vedder
before I met Odin
(he's still a hero tho)
I used to not be a feminist.
I used to think I wasn't free to kiss whoever I wanted.
but I am.
I remember picking up the guitar the first time
totally ******* confused.
I wrote a song in a week and even then I thought it was crap.
now I'm three instruments and two hands deep in the
ocean of stringed music.
there's a moral to this
and it's easy to find.
but even if you can't
that's all right.

Feeling the sun burning the air
Driving around, wind in my hair
Eddie Vedder, love in our ears
As we've forgotten all our fears
Turn it up as we sing a long
In this moment nothing is wrong

Pull up in an empty space
Car is off as we turn to face
The ocean waves are strong today
But nothing like the will to stay

Peering down at least forty feet
My knees buckle as I'm feeling weak
Take a breathe and close my eyes
Look again to my surprise
Spring forward to feel the fall
Nothing around me nothing at all

Thinking my life is going to end
As my body quickly descends
The time in my head slowing down
As I can feel nothing around

Then a pressure surrounding me
My body is given to the sea
I surface to the suns bright light
And fight the waves with all my might
I crawl upon the salty rocks
I climb until I reach the top

I've overcome this plague of fear
These memories I will hold dear

Eddie Vedder's voice is raised barely above a whisper,
He's saying his goodbyes to society,
Wishing for them the best,
But saying ultimately he didn't belong with them.

I felt like that once,
When I was embarking as a fresh faced kid,
To fulfill his dream of serving his country,
As an infantryman,
And when I arrived and as I was trained,
It felt like I was finally in my element,
With people who thought like me,
Our Drill Sergeants were the perfect example of what we could be if we applied ourselves,
Our First Sergeant; an example of what we could do if we pushed ourselves past what we were traditionally taught wasn't possible,
Our commander was the kind of individual that you whisper about,
A Captain with a very inked out past,
An old man playing a game where men tended to die young.
Walking within the vicinity of such individuals was akin of walking amongst giants.
We as recruits all started out without much confidence,
What little we did have,
Was false confidence.
These men taught us what it meant to square up and get nose to nose with a whole load of nasty with a **** eating grin on your face.
We were immortal.

I sit here alone years later,
About to start the next chapter in my life,
When it dawned on me.
We knew each other when we were immortal,
We're not immortal anymore.

Eddie Vedder's voice is the one singing on the song,
But the words were written by Otis Redding,
When he was out experiencing the world,
Contemplating his future after R&B.

You ever had experiences like that?
Where all the curtains are pulled away,
And you realize you need to plan your next step.

Have you planned yours?

Eyes closed,
Fillings a'quivering,
As the dull background roar of the wind tearing by.

Eddie Vedder belting out the works of Etwistle, Townsend, Daltrey, Jones, and Moon.
Smoke exiting the windows as both my Father and I smoke.

Both laughing at the schadenfreude,
Seeing a traffic jam forming the other way,
Stretching out for 8 miles ahead,
With miles of more traffic to soon add on.

It's a shared humor at old jokes,
Shared a thousand times,
Like when we went hunting all those years ago.

I suppose it is nearing the time,
When my own path veers me so far away,
From the once small town I had grown,
Before I am to travel west,
In search of fufilling my purpose,
In service of the community as a whole.

The sun slowly setting,
As we reach the outskirts of Cincinnati,
The sky blue to flaring orange,
Lone clouds like embers being flung off the sun.

I sat in front of a crackling fire by myself.
Yes, this all actually happened.
I sat in front of the fire as embers flew in to the air and quickly vanished.
Eddie Vedder's 'Society' played in the background.
I looked up and saw the stars in the sky.
At that very moment I smiled as I remembered that night, not feeling an ounce of sorrow.
I then realized that no matter what, the stars would always be in the sky, the moon would always shine, and there would always be a fire to keep me warm.

Hey there,
Glad to have you here at last.
I know that the porch is a bit chilled,
But there's a blanket on the couch,
Wrap yourself up and stay a bit,
Enjoy the Tunes,
And perhaps we will come to know a bit more about one another.

Eddie Vedder is the guest star for us tonight,
Talking of our connection between us and nature,
Fitting I think,
For my company here tonight.

When I was young I found that the world quite ******,
Filled with greed, selfishness, and awful,
It flowed around me like the sludge of delta,
That was on the outskirts of an industrial city,
Spewing oil-like pollution,
Our long term survival be ******.

When I was 18,
Freshly crossing the threshold that separates boy from man,
I came to find out there's more than just muck and mire.
There are fountains in these infested waters,
That spew forth clean, drinkable water,
Shining like golden beacons in this bayou-like slop.

....

I go to light a cigarette,
but looking back at you I quickly pocket it,
I know it bothers you,
and your comfort matters more to me than a quick fix of burning cinders and glowing embers.
Where was I again?
Doesn't matter, the song has changed and with it changes the train of thought.

The White Buffalo begins his tune,
Playing with all the momentum of a bucking bronco,
Yelling out in his unique way that he belongs in a much earlier time,
And I think the same holds true for you and me too.

I can imagine you down in the holler of Kentucky,
Or tucked away in some rural tract of Montana,
working with your horses,
Turning freight trains into true steeds,
Kind yet sassy like your own.
I know I would certainly be down in the holler,
Maybe farming,
Probably running shine,
With a smile on my face being chased by some coppers,
White lightning sloshing in the back and some splashed upon my mind.

The song changes again,
Where is the time going?
Benjamin Tod emanates from my phone now,
His tone, tune, and voice mellows me out a bit,
And I imagine you as well,
The song subject?
Difficult.
It's beauty?
Immeasurable.
Much like your views of people and those in this world.

I wouldn't call you naïve,
for that isn't true by any stretch,
But you see the best in others,
It scares me senseless,
For I know it's burned you before,
And it will burn you again,
But I will do my best to help you stay in this place,
For it is rarer than finding a fist sized diamond in a Tennessee Mountain.

The song comes to an end,
and the world is silent once more.
The playlist is over,
And I know you need to be heading home.
I walk you to the door and bring you in for a truly great bear hug.

The first time you hugged me you caught me by surprise,
making me realized that it was something that I loved supremely,
That you could find comfort from a broken down gruff grunt like me,
and that doing so brought some great measure of warmth to my touch-starved heart,
Something that I hadn't felt since I walled off that bleeding *****,
Many years ago.

I close the front door,
asking you to please let me know you got home safely,
and I retreat to the porch once more.

The familiar click of the zippo and burning of ash,
I feel guilty,
Even after you're gone,
I want to be better,
and perhaps I can be.

I stub it out after a few puffs,
blaming the short smoke on the cold March temperature.
Coming back to the warm inside,
And wait for you to say you've safely returned.

My Jesus would be seated on a baby grand with his -
arms folded listening to Radiohead
I can see him peeking over Vedder's shoulder with -
a big grin as he scribbled lyrics on a napkin
Quietly moving backstage as Jerry Cantrell's guitar-
screamed sweet pain
Standing in the rain while McCartney plays Blackbird
Sitting in the cheap seats with Scott Weiland
Amused , enlightened & reserved ...

Erin Go Bragh tonight
Tatooed on his chest

A little more basketball
Before I get some rest

Episcopalian church
I wai the Celtic Cross

Red Pine's book at home
My t-shirt is the Boss

Patience, truly patience
Step by step by step

Eddie Vedder's Society
Sung with Johnny Depp

           Placements!

Listening to Aurelio
Trying to understand

Still just want the courage
To do the best I can

Action is often hard for me
Please help me with the plan

I listened to Eddie Vedder
I'll dance with clairvoyants

                               and the band.

David Markson in the library
His collected letters

There may well be a 5th book
Could it be even better?

She called it unexpected
That I could not forget her

American volleyball
With an Irish setter

Yes, sometimes I wish
That I never met her

Sometimes only twilight
Can break these mind-forged fetters

Businessmen make big bucks
But writers all are debtors

alone the quiet library
In my sweatshirts and my sweaters

Tonight I'll sing "Society"
A great song by Eddie Vedder!