Way past caring
the gaze is cast,
upon cold waters
frost beneath
our feet,
every step chosen
walking carefully,
meetings and more
meetings never
seem to solve a
thing,
a fishy smell lingers
upon old Union Square.
You Love the Thunder
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gypsyjoker
- Posts: 1458
- Joined: May 26th, 2005, 9:01 am
- Location: stilltrucking's vanity
- Contact:
I was going to start a new post withthis spontaneous gibberish. I had a title all picked out. Dark Days.
Just got off work and it is twilight, a dangerous time to drive, and my night vision is not what it used to be. But my blue motorcycle beckons. I saw a big head line in the local Hearst Rag, it said "Dark Days For Bush"
jeezus h christ, have they got it wrong. It is dark days for us. I bet bush got plenty of light.
Why did I think this relates to
and this is the one that makes me really want to ride tonight.
big money is the problem, it seems so obvious that I want to say no, it has to be more than that. But it is true, banal but true. The love of money is the root of the evil they so cheerfully in clear conscience and christian certainty commit their crimes.
Just got off work and it is twilight, a dangerous time to drive, and my night vision is not what it used to be. But my blue motorcycle beckons. I saw a big head line in the local Hearst Rag, it said "Dark Days For Bush"
jeezus h christ, have they got it wrong. It is dark days for us. I bet bush got plenty of light.
Why did I think this relates to
Every thing I listen too on news shows smells fishy to me. Am I as cynical as Bismarck and say, "believe nothing until you hear the first denial" lets see now, didn't whimsicaldeb post something about that? Bush in denial.a fishy smell lingers
upon old Union Square.
and this is the one that makes me really want to ride tonight.
A little chilly tonight, I try to imagine what it would be like to ride a motorcycle on a night like this. Cold enough to get my blood flowing, freeze my gaze, freeze my mind, freeze my heart. It is almost more than I can bare. Ship of fools, I can't bare your greed.frost of big money,
big money is the problem, it seems so obvious that I want to say no, it has to be more than that. But it is true, banal but true. The love of money is the root of the evil they so cheerfully in clear conscience and christian certainty commit their crimes.
Free Rice
Avatar Courtesy of the Baron de Hirsch Fund
'Blessed is he who was not born, Or he, who having been born, has died. But as for us who live, woe unto us, Because we see the afflictions of Zion, And what has befallen Jerusalem." Pseudepigrapha
Avatar Courtesy of the Baron de Hirsch Fund
'Blessed is he who was not born, Or he, who having been born, has died. But as for us who live, woe unto us, Because we see the afflictions of Zion, And what has befallen Jerusalem." Pseudepigrapha
-
gypsyjoker
- Posts: 1458
- Joined: May 26th, 2005, 9:01 am
- Location: stilltrucking's vanity
- Contact:
still in jet lag
biological clock tuned an hour ahead of the end of the day
so quick the dark
two days I let the daylight get away
schedule needs adjusting
getting off at five pm a drag
start earlier get of at three
time to ride
flowing, were flowing by god
things could be worse though
thank god I am free
remember sitting in that cell in Atoka OK hearing those trucks roll by on highway sixty nine
and that tortured me
It was Christmas in prison
And the food was real good
We had turkey and pistols
Carved out of wood
And I dream of her always
Even when I don't dream
Her name's on my tongue
And her blood's in my stream.
[Chorus:]
Wait awhile eternity
Old mother nature's got nothing on me
Come to me
Run to me
Come to me, now
We're rolling
My sweetheart
We're flowing
By God!
She reminds me of a chess game
With someone I admire
Or a picnic in the rain
After a prairie fire
Her heart is as big
As this whole goddamn jail
And she's sweeter than saccharine
At a drug store sale.
[Chorus]
The search light in the big yard
Swings round with the gun
And spotlights the snowflakes
Like the dust in the sun
It's Christmas in prison
There'll be music tonight
I'll probably get homesick
I love you. Goodnight.
[Chorus]
listening to john prine
biological clock tuned an hour ahead of the end of the day
so quick the dark
two days I let the daylight get away
schedule needs adjusting
getting off at five pm a drag
start earlier get of at three
time to ride
flowing, were flowing by god
things could be worse though
thank god I am free
remember sitting in that cell in Atoka OK hearing those trucks roll by on highway sixty nine
and that tortured me
It was Christmas in prison
And the food was real good
We had turkey and pistols
Carved out of wood
And I dream of her always
Even when I don't dream
Her name's on my tongue
And her blood's in my stream.
[Chorus:]
Wait awhile eternity
Old mother nature's got nothing on me
Come to me
Run to me
Come to me, now
We're rolling
My sweetheart
We're flowing
By God!
She reminds me of a chess game
With someone I admire
Or a picnic in the rain
After a prairie fire
Her heart is as big
As this whole goddamn jail
And she's sweeter than saccharine
At a drug store sale.
[Chorus]
The search light in the big yard
Swings round with the gun
And spotlights the snowflakes
Like the dust in the sun
It's Christmas in prison
There'll be music tonight
I'll probably get homesick
I love you. Goodnight.
[Chorus]
listening to john prine
Free Rice
Avatar Courtesy of the Baron de Hirsch Fund
'Blessed is he who was not born, Or he, who having been born, has died. But as for us who live, woe unto us, Because we see the afflictions of Zion, And what has befallen Jerusalem." Pseudepigrapha
Avatar Courtesy of the Baron de Hirsch Fund
'Blessed is he who was not born, Or he, who having been born, has died. But as for us who live, woe unto us, Because we see the afflictions of Zion, And what has befallen Jerusalem." Pseudepigrapha
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