bleat

Bleat
7-8-13

Of thorns in our sides
Wherein their gods to us would be the snare
Of murmurings and bleatings
Taking our flagellations and spiritual beatings
Calling on the comforter for healing
Always in prayer even when not kneeling
Staying in a cool place drinking plenty of water
In setting aside the morning coffee
For a season of my moderation
Of thorns in my side
That actually do my soul some good....




Quoting Yorke
7-8-13

If two and two always makes a five
We have this privilege of convention
In stretching our minds in originality
And authentic and creative adavant grade ways about an ordinary pen
Put to work for the first time in years
She has been hiding at a desk I have not sat at in quite some time
Having its only purpose but to be the location of my bottle of Stetson
By which I anoint today my chest....



I Don't Belong Here
7-8-13

I woke up this morning with Radiohead's Creep stuck in my head
And as of now I am still a subject to my subconscious
Where my pages written serve as a pallet
And my love seat, a bed
Trying to drown out all such reveries with something else
Seeing the alternatives in other selections of reverberating riffs
And ruses of reason
Yet to wake up again
Hoping to divert my focus upon another tune of my tenacity....