Rant and Rave
Between Love and Disaster
Soundtrack by Ruston Kelly “Hellfire”.
This is your life, take it or leave it
Thru your tears and laughter
Were’e all just finding our way
Ya never know what ya got
Till you find out what you’re not
And most the time there’s nothing
There’s nothing there at all
Make your choice between love and disaster
This is your life, to use as you choose
There’s anger and there’s forgiveness
They’re both out there waiting for you
Grab a hold with both hands
Sometimes ya win sometimes ya lose
It’s no good to go it alone
Inside your soul make a home
Made of Glass and stone
Make your choice between love and disaster
This is your dream, to awaken
Watching your life unfold
Some give in, some give up
Trust your heart, trust your gut
Search the edges of your thoughts
What’s illusion, what’s not
Be careful what you’re chasing after
Make your choice between love and disaster
Reprieves And Lost Causes
Let’s get this straight, people who seek simple answers are stupid. The ones who say, “Just repeat this mantra, just take this pill, go to this church, become a vegan, do yoga, read this book, join this party, attend this meeting, be affiliated, be indoctrinated, surrender yourself to a cult, follow this preacher, prophet, shaman, sacrifice your individualism, follow these steps, support this program and on and on into perpetuation. If anyone offers you simple solutions to the myriad of life challenges, immediately run in the opposite direction. Nobody’s gonna save you———except you!
Get this through your complacent brainwashed mind, “Life ain’t simple and surely not easy”. It’s filled with tough decisions, difficult questions and complex choices. Furthermore, life is unfair. Innocent children unexplainably die while evil murders on death-row live out long heathy lives——it’s infuriating! These dreadful thoughts keep me up at night. What kind of god creates a universe that approves such horror, inequality——such depravity.
There was a time many years ago when there were only three TV networks to choose from (ABC, NBC and CBS). There were two types of bread, white or wheat. You were either a Chevy person or a Ford person. You were a Beatle fan or a Beach Boy’s fan. You either watch CNN or Fox News. There was a time when we only required one hour of nightly news to cover the local and national fresh batch of calamities.
Nothing is simple anymore. Is “more” always better? Maybe the Amish have it right with their horse-drawn buggies, silly bonnets and goofy black hats? Maybe enlightenment is more achievable for the Zen Monk living alone in a cave in the Himalayas, no distractions, no facebook, no TikTok, no porn. Is ignorance bliss? Was Socrates right when he said “unexamined life is not worth living”. Are the stupid people happier than the seekers? It’s so much easier to be stupid and happy rather than struggling to find yourself, to be “woke” (whatever that means?)
Now a days, we want to see, hear and know everything. We watch with glee as our heroes fall from grace. Does the tragedies of others make us feel better about our lackluster lives? Life is no longer lived, it’s processed, deep fried, homogenized, propagandized. We watch life through a porthole, secretly peering into others Social Network realities. We seek out others in an echo chamber that supports our beliefs. We’re overloaded with conspiracies, truthiness and artificial intelligence (oxymoron). There are now computer apps that can be programed to write college thesis papers, compose music and create original paintings. I don’t know what original means anymore. Is there an algorithm for originality? For beauty? For reality? For Love?
What’s real, what’s illusion. What’s true and what’s bullshit? It’s all up to you because the future is up for grabs. There’s no longer a truth filter or bullshit detector. We live in a world of contradictions and complications. I don’t know about you, but I’m pissed off. Why you might ask?
The rich pay no taxes while the rest of us fight over table scraps. Politicians sit on their asses and do nothing while our children are slaughtered in another mass shooting. We have resources to better feed and house the homeless but yet there are more starving people living on the streets than ever before. We have better medications available to save lives but pharmaceutical companies charge more than what the sick can afford. We have science that has revealed the imminent dangers of global warming, yet our governments and industries fail to implement changes that will reduce the greenhouse effect.
This one life given, should be better lived.
Sometimes it’s a curve ball
A dear John letter
A tire with a slow leak
A misfire
Ruble and ashes
Simplicity lost
Regretful goodbyes
Cold left overs
Prayers and futility
Unexpected farewells
Stained excuses
Potholes and apologies
Pretend love
Leached out success
Players and fakers
Listing ships
Death by loneliness
Silent betrayal
Orphaned dreams
Waiting on nothing
On no one
Self forgiven
Forgotten promises
Stubborn solitude
Watered down desire
Driving alone
Getting nowhere
Squelched confessions
July Snowstorm
Unhappy endings
Reprieves and Lost Causes
Don’t wish me a good night
I too suffer from insomnia. The night can be a prison for the over thinkers and senseless worriers of the world. So much empty time to recount all my failures, follies and faults. Things I should have said and done, opportunities missed, loves gone ill-requited. The red numbers on the bedside digital clock appear frozen in time. I consider taking a half of one of my Ambien sleeping aides, but the after effects often leave me drowsy for several hours the following morning. So, I’ll bravely stare down my meddling ghosts.
Time is so precious but at this tortured hour time takes on a different meaning. I have what the Buddhist call monkey mind. This is when my thoughts jump from one unrelated thought to the next. What a silly ass thing to say “Good Night”. There is no such thing as a “Good Night”. there is only darkness and solitude awaiting me there. Night is where my demons and devils churn out boogiemen that hide under my bed or breathe loudly from behind my closet door.
Are you a believer in ghosts? Do they come from within us like a dark psychoses? Or, are they materializing out of the night ether? Have you ever seen one? If god created all of the universe, then he/she (binary?) surely could include ghosts in this odd ball thing called reality. Reality is malleable, depending on whose version of reality you choose to subscribe too. There’s a fine line between reality and illusion. And, I don’t give up my illusions easily, they have sustained me up to this point.
I hope my rants don’t scare you away my dear old friend. Maybe “scare” is too harsh of a word. Perhaps the way I connect my esoteric thoughts is too confounding. I’ve even grown tired of my own ruminating thoughts. You’ve peaked under my covers and seen my nightmares. I didn’t formally invite you in, but now that you’re here, feel free to make yourself comfortable. I offer you my friendship and therein my condolences—–as this is a package deal.
The Lost Letter
Yes Norm, indeed it is true—-relentless snow and gray skies can render my mood gloomy and lead me into dark bleak places. It’s been a long hard winter—The Winter of my Discontent” John Steinbeck. I haven’t gone completely mad—-yet? I haven’t killed anyone and buried them under my floorboards “The Tell-Tale Heart” Edgar Allen Poe—-yet? But under the right conditions we can all be driven stalk mad crazy. We can find ourselves doing unthinkable things to one another. And may I ask, when did the hug become a choke hold? I hear them talk, I hear them whisper to one another, plotting against me, making wretched plans to foil my dreams and undo my flawed desires. One man’s fetish is another man’s torture. The opposite of love is not hate, but rather vengeance.
The snow hems me in behind my frozen doorways and the wind whistles through my windows at night. It sounds like the soundtrack to a scary clown movie. The pantry is empty, my snow shovel broken and my only light is that from a flickering candle. I keep my one good eye on her and my other on the hands of the unwound grandfather clock. Time no longer exists in this abysmal season. She desperately wants to leave this god forsaken cabin, but she is stuck here with me until the spring thaw. And god only knows what the melting Perma Frost may reveal.
I think walking on all cylinders isn’t an oxymoron, but rather a mixed metaphor. Words are precious things and not to be toyed with or misused. When people mess with things that they don’t understand it leads to a break down in communication AND THAT MAKES ME AWFULLY ANGRY!!!!
Who’d of thought that out of 26 letters all the masterpieces have been written. What if there were 27 letters? Just think, what poems and stories that could be comprised of 27 letters, a hundred letters?
The white snow blankets everything, like a white canvas covered in white paint. They say no two snowflakes are the same……I extrapolate from that, no two women’s bodies are the same, but that makes no difference to a man who craves the sun.
Love Is In The Small Things
I hold her hand
So nervous like the first time
She offers me a gentle smile
It hides a trace of pain
2 Days mean more
When they’e numbered
I can’t imagine my days Here
Living without her
3 She use to make my meals
Use to mend my clothes
Now there’s only shadows
Where she made a small house our home
4 The sounds of laughing children
Once filled these empty rooms
The best of times in our life
We danced and laughed and struggled through
Those were the days
Even if we didn’t know it
Love is in the small things
Seldom seen and often go unnoticed
1 She wants to walk in the garden
But her legs have grown weak
I help her to the window
She shuffles her feet
2 Holding hands in silence
Siting in the setting sun (ya see)
Love doesn’t belong
Only to the young
3 Sunday drives in the country
Picnics by the lake
It doesn’t seem that long ago
But time moves on, refuses to wait
4 Whispers a Hail Mary
Tells me there’s angel circling
She can hear them calling
Calling her name
5 I kiss her forehead, and say
If you must go, I understand
What will I do without my sweetheart
Who I shared my life, hand in hand
Those were the days
Even if we didn’t know it
Love is in the small things
Seldom seen or noticed
Soul Ache
I’ve been trying too hard, for to long , to be something…
I don’t even know what that something might be. For some people life just falls into place. They find jobs and love and buy houses and cars and have backyard barbecues. They don’t need to be seekers. They have their church of stone and their benevolent gods. Everything they want, is given. No questions asked.
But not me. I spend my sleepless nights wondering about the sanctity of this life. So much bullshit. Dumb fucks are our political leaders. Rich bastards living in luxury while children in poor countries die of hunger. What passes as spirituality fails to give me peace of mind.
These things don’t make me depressed, no——they make me sad. There is a difference between being depressed and being sad. To be depressed is a chemical thing. It can most often be cured with a pill. It can be prayed away.
Sadness is rooted in a sense of hopelessness. It can be heard in Chet Bakers trumpet. Sadness comes from facing the futility of life. It has something to do with exaggerated empathy. Maybe it’s laying oneself open to nihilistic thoughts. I’m not depressed. I have a soul that aches, So, I know in spite of it all; I still have a soul. Heart-ache is depressing. Soul-ache is sadness.
Life Without Love Is A Lie
I don’t wanna run, I don’t wanna hide
Finally found someone who made me feel alive
I don’t wanna waste, no more time
Life without you, has got me losing my mind
You got me running in circles blind
You got me crossing forbidden lines
I know we both, have are reasons why
But baby, this life’s too short to compromise
Can’t get you out of my heart
As hard as I try
Life without love is a lie
Every-time we say goodbye
I die a little bit more inside
I know we both feel the same way
I want you more than words can say
No one see’s, and no one knows
The pain we feel, as we’re letting go
No one wins, we both loose
The ones we love, isn’t who we choose
Can’t get you out of my heart
As hard as I try
Life without love is a lie
Grand Canyon
Who knows why anyone ends up where they do? Or, how well they do, whatever they do, once they get there?—-that’s an odd sentence, but I like it for some strange unknown reason. Odd things and people have always been good friends to me. Friends and family scatter, some are chasing something others are running away from something. But I suppose we’re all getting there—–wherever “there” may be? It’s hard for me to conceive that I’ve lived in Tahoe for 35 years—–and yes, where does the time go? Days go by like the raindrops that carved out the mighty Grand Canyon. Nature is patient, silent, unrelenting—-and unforgiving to those who might challenge her.
I noticed that I’ve used a lot of question marks in my prior sentences. As I’ve gotten older, I realize that I have a lot more questions than answers. Time is such an abused but precious commodity. I have to remind myself of that. I’m feeling a bit nostalgic, sentimental or just kind of self conscious. Sorry if I’m not making much sense, but as you must know, that’s nothing new.
The wind is howling outside my window, sometimes so hard that it shakes my house. It takes a lot to shake a house and even stronger forces to revive a love. I like the painting by Andrew Wyeth of the dog sleeping on the bed. I miss my old black Lab named Chase. Such a faithful friend. When all the world was too busy to go hiking, biking or whatever, I could always count on my Chasey-Boy to be ready and willing to go anywhere with me and I with him. Dogs are great practitioners of unconditional love. People should be more like dogs, but not pee on fire hydrants.
Rants, Raves and Random Thoughts 