Saturday, September 16, 2006

Precipitation precipitated the perks of perculation

Jimmy crack corn and I don't care. Had a kernel with the Colonel with the mustard hair.

Looked him in the eye. Saw only that I... just didn't care.

Kinda makes you wonder. With all the stress that you're under. Where?

Never before seen and never again been... a has. A razz, a dazz. And all that jazz.

Lightly sweetened, lightly salted. Put the brakes on the breaks until we halted.

Stopped right there. Still without a care. Paid the man a fare and began the affair.

It felt good and it felt nice. Like chicken soup with rice served over ice.

I had a ball, told the bitch I'd call. Then out came the fall as I hit the wall.

Still not a feeling I could understand. Why didn't I care that I was half the man?

I used to be... gleefully and full of glee. Just couldn't see...

The dogg from the dogged. The water from the logged. The hogger from the hogged.

The bishop seized the night. Knowing he was right. Gave the queen a fright. Before moving out of sight.

Keep it in check, mate. Don't darely tempt fate. Can't hardly wait to lift the weight off my plate.

So take a load off. Put it on me. That's me caring... hardily.

Closing time is here. And though the feeling's near. I nearly saw clearly the path to the clear.

When I get there, I fear, I'll fare-well enough to care. Until then I'll keep an ear to the air.

That was corny,
Cobble-G

Friday, July 28, 2006

Crikey

By and by, the minutes fly. Compounded by daze. Exponentially phrased. Rather, frayed. Split end to the right. Got you in my sight. Makes me wonder what's down under. Looking, searching, coming up for air. Do I dare? Derriere? Shake it, shake it. The sugar's free. On the reef or wharf - rats. Cats. Meow. The apple of my brow. Pasteurized. Just past your eyes. There. To the left. No, my left. Cleft. Lip. Slip. Drrrrrop. Don't stop. Funky hip hop. Rise to the top. Carrot. Share it. Sell it to the butcher in the store. Ya whore. Ravage. Cabbage. Smells like... teen spirit? Cheer or jeer it. Just steer it. Away. From here. Everclear. Lemon. Drrrrrrrrrrrop. Isn't she gorgeous? Later.

-Ali-G-Ator

Sunday, July 09, 2006

wang bang doodle

all night long - sing me a song - piano man. biddy biddy bop - woo hoo - choo choo. come on and ride it - slip slide it - away. from here - where the only thing that's clear, is the arbor mist - god, how i miss - her.

-Never Endin-G

Monday, July 03, 2006

Will It Ever Stop?

Yo - I don't be knowin-G

Random 5

If at first you don’t succeed, try the other pen. And if, at last, all else fails, breathe and count to ten.

-G-unit of measure

Random 4

Come around here, don’t you no more. Quick jab. Pun jab. Another slab on the side. Let it ride. Sally.

-Spiderin-G

Random 3

Spoken word? Seems oxy-moronic. Soul refreshing? Barely colonic. Poetic? Prophetic? Pathetic? Surely Shirley. Just don’t call me.

-Do-Re-Me-Fa-So-La-Ti-G

Random 2

A turn for the stranger, this blog has taken. A place for rearranging and not mistaking - the noun for the verb or the grass for the herb. The free associating, lyric-concatenating, thought-stringing-togethering, mind-altering, reflectering, mirror into my married mind. For all to see.

-Yo-Yo-Da-in-G

Random

Fly me to the moon. Moon me on the bus. Drive me home. Tonight. Tonight. Feelin’ alright. Feelin’ almight-y. I just might see. Light-ly. Down the tunnel. Along the tracks. Squinting. Could it be? Yes. Home Sweet Home. Alabama.

-Peacin-G out

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Fried

Words swirl about but no thoughts stand out. How do I make sense of this present tense? I’M LOCKED UP LIKE CAPS. No compass or maps. North gives way to South and East meets West. As the dirt off my shoulder falls squarely on my chest. Busted. Flat. Ten-pinned to the mat. Mind in the gutter. Can’t barely utter. A. Single. Word. Much less string a few together. In a haze like the weather. Outside. Looking in. Is that a Sin? Then battle me, prod-cattle me. Cause I ain’t horsing around. No more. Ed. Note. That’s what I wrote. And I shall reap what I sow. So? What? Exactly.

-RAMSCLINB-G

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Transitory Perceptions

Bury me under a streetpole
And visit me from the balcony.
No need to paint the post
Or name an avenue after me.

I will know that you are there
In the vicinity of the sky.
The light that cuts through the darkness
Directs me towards your eyes.

Shift your gaze from the ground below
To the clouds, the birds, the trees...
And whenever you feel like reminiscing
Head up to the balcony.

Bury me under a streetpole
And visit me from the balcony.
It may seem like an odd request-
What else would you expect from me?

The street curb will protect me
With the shelter of a cave.
No need to wallow in cemetery slums
To visit my old grave.

The distance that's between us
May seem vast as the sea...
Rely on your death perception
To stay sharp on the balcony.

Bury me under a streetpole
And visit me from the balcony.
I'll take on a different form
When you lay the sheet over me.

Beware the shadow that I cast
If you believe in ghosts.
But keep in mind that I'm right there-
Lying beneath the post.

And if you want to escape
Of feel the need to flee...
Grab a book, a friend, a tune
And relax on the balcony.

Bury me under a streetpole
And visit me from the balcony.
You'll gain strength and stability
Each night because of me.

Until the lightning strikes the clocktower-
Like Big Ben, I'll tick.
And soon a pattern will emerge
And the time you will predict.

Find some space in your routine
To rewrite history...
Past, present, and future will collide
With a bang on the balcony.

Bury me under a streetpole
And visit me from the balcony.
Bright as any star in the sky-
For reference locate me.

Perhaps a power failure
Will leave you with noone to trust.
Perhaps the rain will endlessly fall-
Leaving my pole to rust.

Believe that my soul will light
The path to our destiny...
Follow the blue square down the road
But grip the railing of the balcony.

Bury me under a streetpole
And visit me from the balcony.
When you catch a beautiful sunset,
Stop and think of me.

The jagged rays are trails
That extend from my light;
They divide the sky into planes
As day melts into night.

Use the calendar as your guide
And on the anniversary...
Break out the compass and some fine wine
And soak it in on the balcony.

Bury me under a streetpole
And visit me from the balcony.
There'll be nights my light is dim
Making it hard to spot me.

The bulb that once glowed strong
With eerie incandescence,
Becomes clouded by a gathering
Attracted to my presence.

The dark circle swarms around
Keeping me company...
Watch the living comfort the dead
From your seat on the balcony.

Bury me under a streetpole
And visit me from the balcony.
If you feel safer close to the ground,
Crawl slowly towards me.

The light will always be there
When you close your lids.
The daydream ends when you open your eyes-
We were only kids.

Laugh out loud at the hand you're dealt,
Then fold pitifully...
For when the stakes get too high,
You can retreat to the balcony.

Bury me under a streetpole
And visit me from the balcony.
Please don't think harshly
When legs or tires cross me.

From above it may appear
To be their respect that lacks.
Alas, my tombstone's just a crack
That'll break their Mamma's backs.

It's not beneath the ground
That my soul shines endlessly...
But above the fray and lighting the way
Visibly from the balcony.

Bury me under a streetpole
And visit me from the balcony.
I'll do my best to keep the beat
When you sing down to me.

Each note will resonate
From my head to my toes,
And it will flow through the earth
To the top of my pole.

Together we'll make sweet music
And birds will hum the melody...
The people on the street will demand
An encore from the balcony.

Bury me under a streetpole
And visit me from the balcony.
When you tap into my mindset,
You'll want to fly with me.

As you lay me down to rest,
Take a snapshot of the sky.
Each time you see similar hues,
You'll achieve a natural high.

Travel to far-off distant lands
And immerse yourself in the scenery...
But to truly recapture the panorama,
Rent a room with a balcony.

Bury me under a streetpole
And visit me from the balcony.
If, by chance, my bulb burns out,
Don't lose sight of me.

Take a deep breath and close your eyes.
The blue square will remain,
And no matter where you look,
It will numb all your pain.

To hang on to that fleeting glimpse,
Stare into the light and see...
And when your eyes shut once again,
Know I'm there under the balcony.

Ol'-G