Say My Name

 

 

You can say my name
But who am I really
What am I supposed to be
One thing for sure
I’m not a name
That’s not who I am
It’s a title assigned to me
By Mom and Dad
That’s how I came to be me
So who am I really?
A silk sheet thought
One fleeting random moment
A consequence of love
Shared by my parents
An accident of birth
You can say my name
But I’m much more than a title
Much more than a belief
I’m the only thing I could ever be
Something relevant
Just me
The one thing I will always be

Say my name but I won’t answer it’s just a term a verbal cancer of a terminal dancer or a necromancer out on his luck. I’m just a dumbstruck shmuck stuck on a shelf by myself, not some someone else but me. Don’t you see, what else could I be? Although many believed they could change me. Rearrange the stranger in me but its plain to see that only caused a derangement in me. Who’s to blame for all this shame? If it’s you…..Say my name

What’s my name
Monsieur insane
Homme sans cranium
A brainless geranium
What do I possess
All I have is an insignificant title
A given name and too much time
Straddled with faded memories
I try to hold on to my past
Hoping it may last
But it slips through my fingers
Pleading with me to forget
The memories needn’t even ask
I don’t want them
Memories cause sadness
Create melancholy madness
Yet they exist in me
On file
They do nothing but mock
Why shouldn’t they
They’ve done their task
They added to my being
They poisoned my well
Now they whisper my name
If only they could see behind the pain
Hear the screams of my fearful darkness
Feel the fires that burn through my soul
Maybe they would understand why I wish to forget
Know why I rail with constant regret
I wish I could delete them
But I live in their moments

I try to put that shit behind me but my ghosts always seem to find me, keep trying to define me or even realign me and try to destroy my virility. My natural ability doesn’t win me nobility but showing humility as I use it with civility. My good deeds bring me tranquility while I patiently wait the oncoming senility. That’s our brains delete button. One day I’ll even forget my name. I’m an enigma with shitty stigma if you hear me I can dig ya but I’m serious man I’m a mysterious man a delirious man without a clear plan. Life keeps maiming my brain make me believe I’m not sane allowing some demons to cause me shame and I know this sounds lame but if you need someone to blame it can be only one person……..Say My Name

Live and Love in Peace

Advertisements

T’WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE FESTIVUS

 

A Festivus visit
J.T. Hilltop

T’was the night before Festivus
When all through the house
The computer was buffering
I lost the wireless mouse

The gluten free cupcakes were baked with such care
In the hopes that the end of GMO was soon near
The children ate sugar free Nestles they had snuck in their beds
As visions of organic plums danced in their heads

Mom in sexy teddy who was straddling my lap
Had just bound my hands with our Festivus strap
When down in the kids room there arose such a clatter
I uncuffed and got dressed to see what was the matter

Away towards the window I flew like a flash
Dropping my medicine and my now legal stash
It fell on the breast of the new fallen snow
I watched in paranoia as my weed fell below

When what to my bloodshot eyes should appear
A hallucination of Gramps and eight tiny reindeer
Like a leprechaun in red so lively and quick
I knew in a moment my eyes played a trick

A rainbow of eagles his coursers they came
He yelled at all eight and he called them by name
Yo Bashful yo Sleepy yo Doc and yo Sneezey
Hey Dopey and Grumpy and Happy and Sleezy

Hidden in the dresser where Mom hides her thong
Now dash away dash away while I get my bong
Then in a twinkling they climbed onto the roof
A dancing red leprechaun this must be a goof

I took a hit off the bong and was turning around
I opened my hand my pipe dropped to the ground
The dude dressed in faux fur from his head to his foot
He as laughing so hard he never noticed the soot

Bundles of sweet buds there on top of his back
Just like a drug peddler carrying a big fucking sack
His eyes how they twinkled, and his dimples they sank
His cheeks red as roses but his stare was so stoned it was blank

His droll little mouth drawn up like a joke
His beard on his chin was snow white from good coke
The stump of a chamber pipe he clenched in his teeth
Second hand smoke circled my head like a wreath

He had a broad face and a middle aged belly
I aired my first grievance “Yo Santa you’re smelly”
He was also too chubby quite a right fat old elf
And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself

With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head
He rolled a sweet fatty he bought from a dread
He spoke not a word but played his big role
In the middle of the room placed an aluminum pole

With a feat of strength placed a finger to his nose
An sniffed up more coke through a dollar bill hose
His grievances he aired till his team blew the whistle
And feats of great strength had broken the thistle
But I heard him exclaim the aluminum pole out of sight
Happy Festivus to all, and to all a good night

Enjoy whatever holiday you celebrate but take time to love. If someone says Merry Christmas say thanks, if someone says Happy Hanukkah say thanks, if someone says Happy Kwanzaa say thanks or if they want to honor all and say Happy Holidays say thanks. Be grateful anyone is willing to share good tidings or acknowledge your well being in anyway be grateful because the message is the same…. Live and Love in Peace during this and every other season!!!! Don’t hold onto love, share it….

WHAT IF

 

A metaphoric chance meeting
A cliché reuniting yesterdays love
Two hearts that once beat together
Cashing in on one of fates offers
After thousands of unshared sunsets
So many that came and went unnoticed
Now two proverbial ships clash
I saw my childhood love by chance
We began to share our histories
So many years have passed yet…
Seems not a day of that on her face
What else but fate could have brought this
An opportunity to explore what if
What if we had shared our lives
What if we had never parted ways
What if we had lived our dreams
What if……

What if you stayed and we prayed and made the life we weighed instead of the charade we played which ended in a relationship delayed and decayed? What if you gave me one more chance and we expanded the romance and danced to enchantment, took a stance, one more ride on that promised moonbeam. Plans and schemes for a love supreme. That was our dream. However it seems this memory is just a fantasy because you see… We both have responsibilities to our spouses and our families so we must choose to let this be, nothing more than a wish unredeemed. Anyway who cares, what does it matter, what’s the diff. Then again…..what if
What if we had stayed together, built a happy life together. A house a home a picket fence, some kids some pets, no regrets living the suburbs and all the rest.
But then again what if we stayed the course affected by a dissonant force creating cheating and sexual discourse? Ending in a bitter divorce. Anger hatred bleeding sorrows terminating our tomorrows. Or not

That was then and we are here now
A night to share one magical chance
We shared a bottle of sweet memories
Numbing the pains that lost time brings
The familiar touch upon my hand
Eyes searching to find forbidden pleasure
Our lips begging for one more reverie
One last delusional trip to speculation
Anything is possible in a dream
And a door once left unlocked
May be stepped in from either side
Maybe if we both open up that door
We can be soothed hearing the echoes of love
Bouncing and tumbling or crumbling across time
The train whistles a warning of truth
We had both chosen out own fate
Its far too late

I can’t count the hours spent in distain, torturing myself with no self restraint. Pelting my mistake with drugs and with sorrow. Living in misgivings for giving up on tomorrow. Treated her shitty when life became gritty. I bathed in Self pity, moved to the city nearly drowned in my trance. Always thought I’d get one more chance, one more opportunity to show some romance. We both found a life, husband and wife and to ruin that now would cause nothing but strife. Cause it’s not just us two. There are children involved and our lives have evolved.. I felt broken hearted in waters uncharted because nothing gets finished if it doesn’t get started. But I’ll always wonder…
What if we had never parted

With a passionless kiss we said farewell
Best to leave it as old friends this night
What never really was can never be
Time seems to travel so damn fast
If you don’t pay attention so much goes unlived
I have negotiated too many wrong turns
And sometimes it seems it will never stop
I know that not to be true for I fear one thing
I am nearing it’s end so must listen to reason
Reason tell me a love lost is gone forever
But I choose not to listen to reason
You never lose what you hold in your heart
I have been through too many rotations
Seen things on this earth not possible
Yet somehow negotiated through blind faith
So I shall close my eyes and believe in one thought
Anything is possible
What if

Live and Love in Peace

 

 

YOU CAN GET ANYTHING YOU WANT

 

One of the main attributes of any good hippie is buying into the concept of non conformity. We were down with counterculture, down with breaking traditions, down with zippers, free love, and expensive weed. Tha said, many of us did indeed hold on too, and some of us still do hold onto a Hippie Tradition every November. Alice’s Restaurant is our beloved Hippie tradition and just about anywhere you go in the country you can find a radio station playing Alice’s Restaurant Massacree at 12 Noon on Thanksgiving day. It’s written and sung by Arlo Guthrie based on a true story about a hippie commune celebrating love and life on Thanksgiving Day along the hilarity and banality of events that followed. With a touch of creative license Arlo lays down a folk song with a tale guaranteed to make every true hippie smile. The tune lasts for 18 and a half minutes but for us aging rebels it goes way deeper than just a funny song, it’s a memory of an era. A golden memory. I know this story is very similar to many other potheads of my era but this is how the tradition I still uphold began for me….

As soon as I turned 18 I made good on my threat to move out of my parents house so I wouldn’t have to follow all the ridiculous rules while I was “Under our roof” in the authoritarian gospel according to Dad. So now I’m on my own in a shitty basement apartment in Kings Park with my hair no longer an issue to deal with on an hourly basis. Finally able to indulge in herbal activities without needing to be by an open window while burning incense. But I still had to go to Thanksgiving dinner at home because I didn’t move far enough away, and you just couldn’t say no to Mom. I was at the age where family get togethers were more of a torture once you’re no longer sitting at the kids table. That didn’t mean I had to go there unenhanced.

I invited my closest friends over for a pre T-day dinner soiree to get us all in the right frame mind to combat the inevitable bevy of put downs and why can‘t you‘s. So I told them to come on over around 11,we’ll smoke a few bowls and listen to Alice’s Restaurant on the radio. That’s how I sold it and the response was overwhelming. Eight of my closest friends stopped by and each had their own version of temperament enhancing herb. So we sat in the living room of my basement apartment, which of course was also my bedroom, rumpus room, den, and dining room. We sat around on milk crates and bean bag cushions passing chamber pipes, chillums, sticks of Thai, and even a well weathered meerschaum pipe. We were all feeling exceptionally good and listened to Alice’s Restaurant on our rock station. As usual it had us all laughing and grooving without any thoughts to what lay ahead with the family function. Each of us had reasons to not want to go to our homes for thanksgiving, most because we would get the litany of when are you gonna cut your hair?, what college are you going to?, why do you dress like that?, you call that music?, anything to put us down in front of the family. Not wanting to make the convergence into fake family fun all of my friends stayed until 2 o’clock and left my humble basement room feeling like we could take anything our families had to give. Although none of us were truly sure our feet were on the ground we trudged of with our smiles surgically implanted on our faces laughing for no reason whatsoever. As each person left we swore to do it again next year, same time.

Thanksgiving dinners became so much more bearable that day and the tradition continued the following year. By year three, two of the group had moved away, I had moved four towns away, and life began to just sort of happen. By year four it was two friends, each of us with our girlfriends, and after five years all of us had gone our separate ways but promised to keep up the tradition wherever we were. This year at least two of our original group have passed away, another two are just missing by choice, one doesn’t speak with me anymore, and of the other three I’m still in touch with one thanks to Facebook. Every year since I have listened to a radio at noon wherever I am and reflected on the friendships both lost and sustained and have found other friends who do the same thing. These days I no longer reflect on the eight revelers in particular, but all my friends and acquaintances from that era, some whom I have reconnected with on social media, some better left in my past, and all those who have passed.

So every year, I celebrate the epoch of the best people that ever lived, my hippie friends from the early chapters of my life, new hippie friends who lived through similar times, and other people who just love to hear Alices Restaurant each Thanksgiving. That’s what I‘m thankful for… Friendships, love, and a shared desire for peace and equality . My computer will be streaming Alices tomorrow at noon on Q104.3… Tune in and Turn on!! Have a fantastic Thanksgiving Day…. Live and Love in Peace

Conspiracy Theory

conspiracy

 

 

Shhhh
Someone’s listening
They always are
Surreptitiously
Reading emails
Tapping phones
Analyzing words
Reading my mind
Subliminal control
Threw away the microwave
Maybe they’re in my TV
Or in my laptop
Burrowing like moles
The government
Collecting data
Another eavesdrop

 

Tin foil hats, alternate facts, telling us this when we know it’s that. What the fuck is that about? I want them quiet but the voices shout. The NSA is watching out spying lying and causing doubt.
A fly in the ointment like an annoying clairvoyant who deploys their poison as an employment of their enjoyment, surreptitious and vicious and downright pernicious. With a drone in control they patrol an annoy ya till you bust with paranoia designed to destroy ya. I implore ya to get a lawyer before you’re no more.

 

 

Doomsday preppers
Gas masks
Bomb shelters
The enemy within
Ready for war
Let the end begin
Waiting in judgment
Armageddon beckons
The Rapture begins
The world in wreckage
Climate change is a hoax
Just an icecap melting
Pelting and welting
Disregarding pi
Phony flag fly
On lunar surface
Fake moon landing
UFO’s have no standing
Alien museum
Area 51
Beware of your government
They’re closing in
They fucking know who I am
Another scam
It’s a systemic violation by the Illuminati nation
Killing me subliminally
Second by second

They weave a conspiracy without a shred of coherency if you don’t believe me come here and see me . A life dreary inside a conspiracy but my hallucinations seem so real to me and oh so near and dear to me that sometimes I feel that I’m Timothy tripping Leary. MK Ultra prey of US vulture. A controversial universal hurdle giving purple nurples. Who and why keep on making those Goddam crop circles?

 

 

Templar Knights
Freemason secrets
Removing our rights
Bilderberg agenda
Money is king
Outlook is bleakness
No brass ring
Cross and bones
Conspiracy freak out
I see a pattern
No
I see many patterns
Don’t trust a soul
People act like I’m crazy
But I still wonder
Is the holocaust real
Or right wing thunder
Is it in my head
Is my brain creating danger
Is Paul really dead
Was J man in a manger?
Happy birthday Mr. President
Did you sleep with Marylyn
Smoke pot with Andy Warhol
Maybe try heroin?
Who was on that grassy knoll
Was it the FBI or CIA
Mafia or NRA
Did the KGB blow John away
Did Ruby silence everyone’s play

 

Who killed Kennedy us or our enemy? Maybe it was it a mafia remedy?
Doc says I’m just susceptible but that just isn’t acceptable, that‘s completely imperceptible. But drugs make it acceptable so I eat five pills to help me chill. The theories fade I’ve had my fill, these theories will not strip my will. But still…… the possibilities make me ill. I no longer know what’s truth….or what’s just theory. That makes me teary…..

Live and Love in Peace

 

An Existential View Of Creation (A JT Hilltop Twisted Tale)

 

Adam, Eve, A Snake, and A Not So Immaculate Conception

In the beginning the Creator invented seven time periods. He was tired so he made each one 24 hours and called it a day. After a good nights rest the Creator then placed Adam in a garden, yanked out one of his ribs and created the easily fooled Eve to keep him company (as if). The Creator made Eve without the snake appendage that was supplied to Adam so it was decided more of those egg chasing snakes should flourish in the garden. The Cobra leader of those slivering salacious heat seeking missiles had the ability to talk and loved to flirt. This snake was quite a player. A forked tongue sweet talker he was selling his snake oil in exchange for a little piece of fruit. An apple you Weinstein perverts! At any rate (usually based on the hour) this high end slinking pimp of a snake wanted to make a deal with Eve. The very second the deal was consummated Adam fell down. Yes my brothers and sisters, the fall of Man. That’s the story of the Garden Of Eden as I remember it, but what if……….

Went To A Garden Party
In the beginning a number of tribes existed in an area we now call the Middle East. The so-called “fertile crescent” housed two tribes which stood out amongst all other colonies. They had become far more advanced than most other tribes beyond opposable thumbs. These two communities had differing methods of survival both using reason and logic. One tribe, The Aggies, learned how to manipulate the vegetation and grow it at will using soil, sun and water. They were prolific growers who planted the seeds of society. Oh yea, they also planted Cannabis, Wheat, Alfalfa, and a variety of Vegan deliciousness that way in the future would give hipsters GMO free orgasms. The other tribe, The Shepherds, learned how to manipulate the cattle and sheep, goats, and the occasional Chupacabra and penned them up creating a seemingly endless supply of milk, meat, and bestiality. (Lets not even go there) They were prolific manipulators. These two tribes habituated a very large botanical section called the Garden of Eden. Truth be told they did not like each other, but they used their logic and reason to devise treaties and form boundaries which they agreed not to cross. So it was agreed the Aggies could live in the North Eden, and the Shepherds in South Eden. The tribes kept to themselves and all was peaceful and both were prosperous. That is until one seemingly insignificant incident set of a series of events that would change the world forever.
It was a beautiful late morning day in the Garden of Eden when a young male Aggie named Adam decided to take a walk in the forbidden area. The forbidden area was smack dab in the middle of the garden and was chock full of colorful vegetation and mysteries that both Aggies and Shepherds agreed to never entertain. That was their buffer, a patch of land untouched and unused by man. But Adam was a curious adventurous young man with a strong desire to explore, along with other desires he didn’t yet understand. Ergo it wasn’t unusual for Adam to be traveling into the agreed upon DMZ (Don’t Masturbate Zone) but on this particular day Adam came across a small waterhole in which a young lady was bathing in the nude. Not recognizing her from his tribe he assumed she must belong to the Shepherds. Those slightly whiter skinned people who smelled of animal shit which was oddly alluring at times. At first he was turned off by her exoticness but when he looked closely at her he noticed something strange. Aside from her large woman bumps she looked much like he did only fairer in skin and hair but without the appendage that ruled his emotion. She had a pale complexion but much of her face was obscured by long bouncing colorless curls of thick hair. He liked the way her hair looked across her face allowing only her eyes of turquoise which sparkled like evening stars and a tiny button like nose above thick full lips. He began to get a tingling in his loins because he found her oddly attractive. He became entranced as she bathed, water glistening off her white full breasts. The sight of her cherry red nipples made his stomach a tad queasy. But not a bad queasy. He spied her with great delight and even began to wonder if she was like the women of Aggies in other ways. He felt that youthful familiar rising in his loins that cause men to lose control of their senses. He began to wonder if she enjoyed the pleasures of sex in the same manner women of his tribe had enjoyed him. He imagined making wild unbridled passionate love to her. Considering the times perhaps it was bridled sex, but whatever, she made him hard and horny as all….. For lack of a better term, all Hell.
Now he had a specials reason to sneak off to the forbidden place. After quickly finishing his chores each day he would sneak down to the waterhole hoping for a salacious viewing. He watched from the trees as she bathed herself getting himself more horny each day. He stared in awe until one day he got up enough nerve to confront her. “Young maiden of the Shepherds, why do you come to the forbidden place each day by yourself?” The young maiden pretended to be alarmed even though she had been aware of his hiding and staring since his first visit. Frankly, she was just as curious as he was, also experiencing tingles and just as curious about inter-tribal sex. “I come here to bath myself, not to be stared at by an Aggie. Why do you come here every day to stare at me?” The young Aggie gave this some thought, because quite frankly he wasn’t sure himself why he was here. “ I come not to stare at you but to explore the area and determine if the land is fit for growing” he lied. The young maiden blushed slightly when she saw the lust in his dark brown eyes. “Are you sure it is the land you wish to explore? It seems to me you are looking at my body and I believe that is not vegetation I see growing under your loincloth” The audacious young maiden gave him a look that offered more a challenge than a venting of distain. She blinked her eyes at him and something strange happened. He felt a Funny feeling in his stomach as though the seeds he used to grow things themselves were festering from within. He boldly chose to accept the challenge. “It is true that I have gazed upon you and appreciate the uh….. The unusual beauty you possess. Indeed I was hoping perhaps you were an Aggie and perhapswould be my maiden.” The Aggie could feel his entire body shaking and the young Shepherd maiden did not back away. She moved closer to the Aggie. “I am a Shepherd woman, not a dirt laden Aggie maiden. And you young Aggie stud, you are filled with dirt from your farming. If I were to ever consider being a maiden to the like of you I would expect you to be clean. Why don’t you come in here and allow me to bathe you?” It was more of an order than an invitation but that was of no consequence because he had already made his mind up as to where he was headed and his manhood was pointing the way. He approached the watering hole with a mere modicum of trepidation. She held out her hand and he accepted, and the both of them shuddered ever so slightly. He dropped his loincloth and revealed the growth underneath it was indeed not vegetation yet ripe for the picking. He stepped naked into the waterhole beside her. For five minutes they stared and cleansed each other, eyes sparkling with curious wonder. The Aggie closed his eyes and allowed this maiden, this Shepherd woman to touch him all over. When she got down to washing below his waist he was surprised to discover how eagerly his body was responding. The maiden held his solid manpole in her hand. “Methinks my Aggie that you have something other than bathing on your mind.” Unable to form an actual word, the Aggie grabbed the maiden in his arms and laid a big fat spit swapping kiss on her using his tongue muscle very skillfully. This was something new to the maiden, and at first she wanted to pull back. However, once she realized how good the tongue tango felt, she greedily sucked his tongue into her mouth and allowed the saliva filled dance to continue. Well I don’t have to tell you what happened next. Sparks flew and fluids oozed, and soft moaning was the only form of communication. Of course the two lovers understood they braved the scorn of their fellow tribe members by allowing their naked bodies to exchange these biological fluids. But it felt so crazy good they did indeed continue to explore each other and exchange passion and bodily fluids. Four times. It wasn’t until after the fourth round of carnal explorations led to exhaustion that they even introduced themselves to each other. “I am called Adam, which means man.” To which the maiden replied, “Indeed Adam, you are quite the man. More so than any Shepherd I have ever known. My name is Eve, which means life.” With a big fat satisfied grin Adam replied, “Indeed Eve, you have breathed life into me unequaled by any other Aggie I have ever known.”
So Adam and Eve began to meet each other every day and made love like a couple of school kids. But all was not so good back at the tribes. The other Aggies were beginning to get suspicious because Adam never ever seemed to be dirty. How could anyone work the soil all day yet remain free of dirt. And back at the Shepherds they began to get suspicious because Eve was always whistling and showed no interest in even the most handsome of Shepherds. Now it just so happened that the leader of each tribe sent someone to follow their respective suspected tribe violators on the very same day. Once at the watering hole, the Aggie spy hid in the north woods, and the Shepherd spy hid in the south woods. At first the spies were appalled and shocked. But Adam and Eve were both so very sexually talented, and each brought new tricks specific to their tribes that it became more of a show. I believe at least one, perhaps even both had become so excited while watching that they pleasured themselves before retuning to the tribe leaders to give the reports.
The tribe leaders were livid. Furious! How could this possibly happen? It was the most outrageous act that had ever occurred. They both paced, in different colonies yet somehow in unison, until the sinners returned to their folds. The minute Adam returned to the Shepherd village he was grabbed by the biggest and strongest Aggies and brought before the leader. “Adam, I am quite disappointed”, he said, “You have disrespected every member of our tribe by engaging in this disgusting act with a Shepherd woman.” Adam didn’t answer, he just stood there looking sheepish, which for an Aggie was another no no. “You’re despicable act has left me with no other choice. You shall be banned forever from the garden of Eden. Go now, get out and never return. Take your Shepherd slut with you!” Adam sadly walked to his hut to gather his belongings. Inside he saw his best and now only friend. “How did he find out” he asked of this friend. “Well Adam, you were spied on by Cain. He followed you and reported back to the leader.” Adam shook his head and mumbled, “Cain, of course. I should have guessed. That shit spreading farmer is gonna pay for this someday.” And with that, Adam left towards the waterhole hoping to see Eve there one last time.
Eve of course had a similar experience, and she too was permanently banned from the Garden of Eden. Eve was certain it was Abel that had spied on her as Abel had always tried putting the moves on her but she forever denied his advances. Reluctantly she too had to leave, and also chose to have one last look around the sexually charged waterhole in hopes that somehow Adam might be there. As luck would have it, which luck often does in tales, they met at the very same moment and exchanged stories of banishments.
So hand in hand Adam and Eve left the Garden of Eden forever, Adam holding in his free hand the apple the Aggie farmer had grown for her, and eve holding in her free hand Adams snake, which Eve had so totally and completely tamed. So from this little tale of debauchery and scandal, many another story was begot……. TBC
Live and Love in Peace

HOPE PEBBLES

 

There was a time
Seems like ages ago
When things appeared clear
There was hope and a dream
That people of all color
Race religion or orientation
Could live in peace
Maybe I was too naïve
Maybe I was too full of promise
Maybe I was a dreamer
But I believed
Back when I was young
I believed in life
Back when I was young
I believed in peace
Back when I was young
I cared
Tossed pebbles of hope into the sea of confusion
Just to watch the ripples
Ripples of freedom
I believed
Now I look at the man in my mirror
He looks sad
He no longer see’s the ripples
He no longer tosses pebbles
He looks like he gave up
But a closer view
Into his noble eyes
He is merely tired from belief
Massacres will do that
Rivers of blood and no one is building a bridge
But deep down in my heart of hearts I know
That even the smallest ripple
Charged with positive energy
Can make the difference
I didn’t give up
I looked away
My eyes filled with clouds
It took too many life experiences
Too many bad choices
To get where I am now
But I did learn from those ripples
I have maintained one life rule
Never make an enemy out of anyone
Sometimes it’s hard to live by
Sometimes it’s the only way that matters
But I think it makes sense
Without enemies we can truly live
If we live for today
We invest in tomorrow
I never fully understood this before
Never heard the proper words sung
Yet I truly believed in love
Back when I was young
I’m gonna grab me some new pebbles

Switch it up now…..

The new social media landscape full of hype flight and escape is trying to reshape or undrape our opinions through digital tape showing us the way we had better take. A step to the future where children are hugged not numbed out or drugged and people have trust our phones aren’t bugged but I think its too late…. We’re fucked because Atlas has shrugged.
We scream out political views whichever side we choose I hate him he hates you is that true or fake news. What we will lose? I mean how much abuse are we able to absorb? Seems We’re cruising to an apocalyptic bruising like pathetic losers. Constitutional misuse by abusers and willful accusers abusing the snoozers. Become a refuser.
Join the resistance be one of the rebels’ grab a handful of pebbles toss them in the sea until the ripple settles
And hope will be leveled, not disheveled or unsettled but real…
You think cause We’re all dopes if you post a slanted story it’ll dash our hopes down some slippery slopes in the hopes we believe you like you got us on the ropes but before you post another bullshit roast…….
…Look it up on Snopes

Live and Love in Peace

Opiod Solutions

 

My life sucks
I hate it
So I hurt myself
Not cause I dig pain
For the medication
Them Oxy’s help big time
Not just for the ache
But for the torment
The hurt in my mind
One makes it easy
Two make it fade
What will three do?
Maybe it will go away
That and a few beers
No more tears
So I get numb
Novocain for the brain
My life still sucks
But I don’t give a shit
So I get even more numb
Finally I’m happy
Don’t fucking care
Maybe I’ll take some more
What bad could happen?
If I take too many
Worst that can happen
I may not wake up
That doesn’t scare me
Something much worse could happen
I might awaken
Find my feeble existence
Is continuing to be
I hate this feeling
I hate this life
Slaving to my emotions
Shackled to my fears
One sure way out
Death
This is the night I do it
Swallow a handful
Get the fuck away from here
But wait….
Maybe I’ll leave the light on
Just in case I come back home

Kick it

I wanna perish but I still cherish the love and affection even though I’m embarrassed in fairness I’m suffering from over impairment
Not to exasperate one good lesson in oppression but my obsession is a digression into a deeper depression. With a jump into aggression a head shrinking session might lesson the tension. Bur t what the Hell for?
My funeral pyre will burn till they tire of the muck and the mire of my death fire the higher I aspire the more dire I cry….Help me before my desire becomes my qualifier for expiring.
I know I should stop before I die or transpire but truth is…….
I still wanna get higher

Seasons Change, Northeastern Exposure

 

Through spring and summer
The leaves on our trees
Don masks of splendor
Boldly displayed thickets
Fragile chameleons of life
Poised in veils of chlorophyll
Hiding their true colors until Autumn
When the weather commands them
Strip off their sleek jade facades
Allow the leaves to glow true
In their natural nakedness
Astounding crisp colors
Emblazoned in fiery reds
Dazzled with robust yellows
Tickled with inspirational oranges
Natures fireworks to rival our own
Until the trumpet of ice chill wind
Blows its harsh cacophony
Enticing the leaves to dance and slip free
An exodus from their branches
Spinning and tumbling towards earth
Determined to enrich the soil
While the tree’s skeletal remains
Stand in defiance of the cold air
Unafraid of the contemptuous freeze
Ready to bear the weights of winter
With it’s biting chill of snow and ice
Vowing to return fully clothed
Come the loving warmth of Spring
Yet each season bears its mysteries
Autumn owning one of the best
Over the last few weeks
The oaks dropped their seedlings
A treat for the hungry squirrel
In response the grey playmates
Plant acorns across the land
Hiding them for the future
But who’s future?
In the haste of the cold
The little creatures forget
The home of their hidden treasures
Where seeds are given a chance to grow
One day a mighty oak itself
A long lasting stanchion of life
Home to generations of birds
As well as small animals
And an ecosystem of insects
Sacrificing themselves to Mother Nature
With nary a complaint they join the seasonal displays of Mother Natures Beauty, offer food and homes to any and all creatures, give us oxygen, stand tall and glorious for our ocular pleasures, and entertain us with the mystery ff the cycles of life. That’s one of the perks of living where seasons change…Live and Love in Peace

JT’s Culinary Career Becomes A Pile Of Crap

 

 

J.T. Hilltop… (From Zen and the Art of Culinary Maintenance)
The freaking manager and Maitre D’ of Cavarleiri’s Restaurant ran off with the Payroll and my hopeful culinary career was cut short. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t used to the fecal matter hitting the rotary oscillator but Cavalieris closing was a lot to deal with. I thought I had found my calling in the restaurant industry and the furthest thing from my mind was not being part of the gastronomic cosmic enlightenment enhanced with copious amounts of weed. No longer was I an apostle to a culinary madman, no more waitresses to flirt with, no more free beers, no more sneaking joints in the basement. I was now saturated with disappointment and disillusionment. I guess that’s how my Dad felt about me, but I’m not here to wallow in self pity, I’m here to tell my story. No money meant no weed and no weed meant I needed to seek another avenue of employment. Fast! I needed to shed the dry burnt out snakeskin of the restaurant industry and turn on to some other form of capitalism. I needed to get far away from any kitchen, any Chef or any sexy damn waitress. I need a sacrificial rack of lamb so to speak. I should do what James did when he was here, some fast money landscaping. So it came to pass that I had became the new landscaper for James olf boss Muncie at Muncies Field of Dreams. More accurately put, I had left the bottom rung of dishwashing to join the bottom rung of lawn mowing leaf raking topsoil carrying shit spreaders. I had chosen to become a hard working laborer and have my skin scorched everyday by burning threats the summer sun makes good on while enjoying the hearty aroma of freshly decayed organic manure. Enough about the perks though; let me tell you about the downside. Everyday ended the same, my arm and back muscles pound out a rebellious beat building to a painful crescendo. As I reach to cool my aches and pains with a cold beer it seem as though all my muscles tightened up into ball of overworked subdermal tissues and tendons screaming at every movement. My skin radiates a pinkish aura from hours spent unprotected by those relentless threats of the harsh sun. It left my neck and shoulders feeling like James gave them an Indian neck burn adding to my misery. As if that weren’t enough, the omnipresent stench of decaying crap had implanted its neverending stink carousel deep into my nasal cavity. Olfactory nirvana! Out on the field one of my less enviable jobs, if that’s even possible, was to take compost which was Muncies name for decayed animal shit, and spread it across a field. At first the smell of evaporating morning dew so earthy and rich comes rising up off the ground like a wisp of warm steam in a tease just waiting for its vile replacement. Breathe deep and enjoy the best of nature while it lasts because within seconds comes the dank aroma of compost. Its a blend of some of the most offensive smells I could ever have imagined. Horse shit, cut grass, worm infested leaves, and decaying matter are the less offensive stench. Once dumped on the ground the aromas of a horse stable had a meeting with a quarantined rest stop bathroom, and then joined forces with spoiled milk and dead mouse body to create a cacophony of disgust that slowly crept up my nasal passage and made an all out assault on all five of my senses. There it would stay to hang out for hours even after my day was long over. A rank reminder of my newly acquired hopelessness that was eased, but not eradicated by the beer. With a cannabis chaser of course.
Partying had come to a new intersection as well. Turn right and head up the morphine highway that was one step away from the dreaded H. Heroin, horse, dope. A dangerous path to be sure but as long as we kept just to the pills it seemed okay. To the left was an array of uppers and downers that had become much too routine for us. From the ritual of lighting up to the ritual of popping pills. Ken the salesman was in big demand and was spending way way too much time with the low life dealer Arthur. As for me I was required to wake up early 6 mornings a week and work my body into a pile of mush. But I had every night free to do whatever I chose. I had begun spending more and more money on drinking and drugs, supplying not only my head but Carries as well. And many evenings I took care of Sue as well because my best friend Ken was always out copping drugs to sell. I had begun doing diet pills every morning to keep me awake and give me the energy to bust my ass out in the shit fields and then popping downers to take off the edge of diet pills so I could sleep. As if that didn’t suck enough on days when it rained I would be sent home and not make any money for the day. I quickly went through my head money after a week of solid rain. The summer was coming to an end and I was making less money. Soon it would be too cold to do landscaping and I would be out of work again. Fuckin A man! I couldn’t remember how the fuck I got here but I knew I needed to get the fuck out real soon.
As if on cue that week of rain and crappy weather had set me in search of a new destiny. Again fate reared its ugly head and out of the blue came an offer to become an assistant groundskeeper at a local Nursing Home. How cool to be able to use my newly acquired skills on three locations and get paid even if it rains. That’s how it was that I became something different. Now I was a shit spreader with a title. The assistant groundskeeper with a special attribute. I was in charge of manure movement. Whatever, I was working and making money on a regular basis again. And the work wasn’t nearly as exhausting. Life was good again. Now I could concentrate on saving up my money. I began working in the yards of the three nursing home properties at Vierno’s Nursing Homes Inc.

To Be Continued