birth of experiment and the hard crash end

Whammy workout with a side of wah, outide ottawa, but not an autowah ;-P

Ceiling riffage

Happy Birthday Seth!

I got a special memory 
of which to think today
It's an anniversary of 
of sorts, you could say
It marks a big transition
that I had when 33
the years of age
I had to pay
to reach epiphany
some reach it decades earlier
for me I had to wait
the waiting though was worth it much
I had to celebrate!
I called and rang my friends
and fam and everyone I knew
I felt the proudest man alive
My face in beaming grew
As on this day
I gave away 
the selfishness I knew
not by intent, by accident
by loving one that's new.
A brand new soul
Came to my door
And love I knew I did
in ways that were
insoluable
in ways that can't be hid
Here was my metamorphosis
Not merely human small
But another one transformed
in ways beyond recall
The single life
I once embraced
and swore I'd never leave
my attitude now turned around
a full reversery
or to say another way
1-8-O degrees
sorry if I've beaten down 
the horse of metaphor
the drift you get
I'm sure by yet
in words from me to yours
I was no longer self-possessed
I guess I'm tryin' to say
in such a long, turny
and extropolated way {? : ) }
The thing of all
I'd like to say
I can't forget to add:
the day I boast 
I grew the most:
when I became a dad.

To my firstborn:
Happy 12th birthday, big guy!  

The Monday Suckage Blues

Once upon a time
in the land of darn-it-all
After picking up my ass
from an unrewarding fall
the weekend that was mine
on the back of vino rouge
or seemed so at the time
there was nothing else to do...

Now the better part of me
will at another goal take aim
and down the bowl of porcelain
I'll now flush out the shame
As really, I be jazzin' ya
I never had a drop
Not so last night anyway
But I remember lots
of times that such was true
and always seeming close
those memories relived anew
are like a shadow ghost
reminding me
that all I have
or every can attain
can only happen if I stay alive
and keep it sane.

And so I say goodbye
to the follies of my past
to rearrange the scenery
and cut another path
and maybe on the way
are other habits taking form
while sheltering oneself
from an unsuspected storm
and waking from the slumber
of a cyber-chloroform

And curious for other things
I'm off to make new friends
ideas and forthcomings
to a new plateau ascend
excuting firm desire
by using what you got
instead of whining on the wire
or refusing to be taught
and now I find
a new collapse
of jittery demise
when I walk
with imagination as my eyes
and think of what
I wish that were
as if it now be here
banishing empty desire
fullfillment now sincere
Dyer said "don't wish for want,
as wanting more you'll get,
and if you want,
you didn't get
what you want....not yet"
Of course I paraphrase for verse
and for the verse's sake
I'll make this footnote
of the rules of which
these rhymes do take  : )
And so I guess
my point thus made
(if was there such a thing),
I'll make that thoughtful
escapade
to future wishes bring
into my thought reality
as if already true
and in this way
I'll make each day
a promise firm renewed
to never sway
and not delay
The dreams I now persue.

My love letter to Tumbler

This is it: my humble blog, 
indeed, the entry late
this I say just in case 
you cannot see a date
It follows from my blogger page
steveharleyremedy
and here I post 
so do not rage
in blogger rivalry
It wasn’t fair
If I not share
what on other sites was found, 
so here it be more properly
as data here and now
and not the redirected type
these words will meet your eyes
with happiness and peaceful warmth
I impart a lullaby
wishing you verdant dreams
and may you be adored
and sheltered 
if reprieve you need
from a sudden storm  : )

Sat am wailin'

"Morning.....came a little early today". - WMM

A funny thing has happened
on the way to getting old
time is moving faster
(that you must already know)
but other things are happening
unpredicted in their course
I'm waking up far earlier
than I ever did before
The early morning
has become
my very favorite time
everyone is sleeping
and the quiet house is mine
I'll pillage for a coffee
sit upon a lighted screen
give a shake and brush away
the webs until it's clean
and maybe watch the jays
chase away the bigger crows
and fighting for some crums
and flying off to where they go
Then I'll sip some java,
the first sip is so great!
The very best of all the rest
that follow for the day
And I'll bang a rhythm out
on a Qwerty board
And find a new horizon
where a thought will dare to tour
and trip over the threshold
where the land may meet the sky
and take a final look behind
and wave a last goodbye
to all the childhood memories
and people of your life
the things you knew
and the ones
who've gone to afterlife
and when we comes at last
upon threshold all must pass
I hope the eyes
that meet these words
sincerely aren't the last.
somehow immortality
we wish so much we had
knowing that our mortal coil
will one day feed the grass
So anything we give
from us to all who after come
allows our life to resonate
in memories of some
and on again we live in them
their mind a tape we run

But only that a fantasy
I'm not on that journey yet
or so I hope
I cannot gloat
I know tomorrow's bet
But hope I may, that this today
indeed won't be my last
I'll go on as if the dawn
of night is yet to pass
Only in my thoughts
could I allow the former flight
as I've got some living left to do...
damn right!

The Theory of Everything

Whoops, there I go again
I skipped another day.
The coveted consistency
eludes, to my dismay.
I really hoped
I'd make the claim
that not a another one
would pass before
I write, before
tomorrow has begun (Aha).
And in the verse,
for best or worst,
Thus tended to the most:
septameter iambic,
kept us sated
and ingrossed
in the language that we know,
only english, that so far
I've made attempt
to make exempt
the blah from my boudoir.
But not in technicality.
By now, that much is clear
So fun to break
the rules it is and make
new words sincere.
And that might make me manic!
or so say the DSM,
the psychiatric manual,
whatever edition.
They call it "neologism":
a feature on the list
of things a manic manifests
in this I do not jest!
Just look it up, or google it
as either/or will tell.
It's there. Believe me.
But fairly: there's
many more as well.
That is to say
this trait alone
does not manic you make.
But add it to
other taboos
and "kaboom!",
you're a fruitcake!
Well, maybe I exaggerate
to justify the rhyme.
And this I write
to keep me out
of cellars passing time.
So whoops, and where
did I was at?
O'! Blatant mockery
of our past syntactical
corrective biggety!
I think it's time
we now embrace
an innovative shift,
that when deployed
will myths destroy
And question all that's fit.
And make the sacred
and profane
to fight on equal ground
allowing unrestrictive
curiosity unbound
from prior disillusionments
and even sacred text
our best designs, superb they are,
completion haven't met.
the whole equation
not yet known
no sweeping whole is seen
(A) more obvious
lost puzzle piece
I think there's never been.
QM and then there's gravity,
we can't connect the lines.
We tried, and
Einstein really tried
and did so 'til he died.
And failed did he
and all that since
have taken on the task.
Maybe strings,
but maybe not,
give tunnel lights at last.
But this is mere philosophy
Untestable, thus flawed
in satisfying what we need
(like particles called "God")
What we need
is data
that's confirmed around world
But these strings,
so small they are,
our tools cannot unfurl
the secrets that the strings
may hold inside
their tiny waves.
The properties
exhibited
may allow one to persuade
a truce between the theories
we've put forward
and unite!
or maybe flirt for long enough
we'll possibly make right
the wrongs we must have made
somewhere within our pages past
and get a better answer
to the "everything", at last!
And so we hope,
and we progress
and live with all we shan't
know uncontested,
answers bested,
often we recant.
And so the wisest
ones we know
(they rarely all agree)
but in this point
there's scant dissent:
You need humility.
The questions one
must often ask
or born from places not
concerned with things
that money brings
or egocentric thoughts.
Don't start with "I",
but "you" or "they" or "we"
be what you say.
"I" isn't cool,
so quit it, fool!
I'm looking right your way!

So mirror-talk
complete for now
I thank the ghosts within:
the muses that amuseth us!
Our very best of kin!
Hey, maybe you might stick around
say 30 years or so?
Besides, where else you gonna hang?
Where else you gotta go?
Of course, you know
I'm jaggin' ya!  Go anywhere you like.
I know your not confined in space,
as thinking gives you flight
so I need not
make jeolous threat
even in metaphor
I like you, so please stick around
I'll be less of a bore!
And I to you my thanks bequeath
to readers now and hence
Your eyes to me
and diamond seeds
in now and future tense.

Whoops, I think
the eyes have winked
in weirdity anew.
It might be said,
my welcome fed,
I must now take leave of you.
And sadly, so, acutely know
I hope our
speaking
and our writing
and our reading
and our psychic feeding
isn't through...

(re-enter stage right: )

I must admit
I want release
even if miscast,
confessions make
and thus reveal
a secret told at last.
Oh, I bet by now
you've got
some curiosity.
Maybe only tiny blips
but there, undoutably.

(Re-enter, new stage left)

but until then
I'll make return
I hope consistently.
If not each day,
then maybe close
(or maybe not, well see) : )
This is the grand-experiment
of living happily
without a calculation
or exchange commodity
We must persue what we must do
And so here lie's the text
And thusly too, the witness you
will see what happens next
I won't pretend I know the end
but together we'll find out!
Maybe in mundanity
Sublimeness may come out.

Your call is important to us!

If I had a rocket launcher
I'd make my miffage known
I'd fire up that puppy
and take aim at my old phone
But only once I answer
that shrill annoying ring
if the clock say's it's supper
it's time for telemarketing
The robots or poor human sap
on continents afar
have made intrusion to our world
and angered? Yes, we are!
And though we block and we ignore
They ring relentlessly
And so a plan we used before
we replay happily
My father once used kitchenwares
for scaring crows in strife
Now pots and pans were used again
but this time by my wife
She got positioned in a way
the pots were very close
The call came in, she banged in ways
that would awake a ghost
And up against the microphone
she clanged the brutal noise
and thusly we had found new ways
to fill suppertime with joy!
We flipped the switch, and wet their pants
"what was that?" one said,
We had no words to make reply
we laughed a lot inside
And now we find we're not as much
disturbed like once we were
the message may have trickled up
and made some peeps confer 
perhaps to cross our number off
if they valued their ears
And maybe too they felt compelled
to warn their other peers
Now we eat in peace, 
as much anyone can know
such a thing when living 
with a toddler as she grows.
I hope you like this tale I've told
and every word is true
The tale now told, I'm off to roll
to seek adventures new
And if you dare, I'll hope you'll share
these words with who you know
My gratitude will reach the moon
and we'll be friends, for sho'!

The unexpected virtue of...

"The unexpected
virtue of
riducul-ignorance"
Is the title That I could
For this blog use hence
Stolen near verbatim
from a recent subtitle
Of a film, here bastardized
Just to steal the syllables
Came to mind
and henceforth writ
In part to tip a hat
To a new movie I've seen
And recently, at that
I love the soundtrack most of all
So ultra-modern-hip
It's only drums, who'd a thunk?
It's hard to fathom it
Without a note or any way
To hold a long sustain
The drums alone
did make it flow
in syncopated ways
So that was that and this is this
and they and them say hey
Birdman was the movie
So I hope you see it.
yay.
boohoo
no way
achoo!
yes freakism by me
is the sometimes new and disimproved philosophy

apple tree hanging over me

We know that the apple
can't stay very long unbit
when human eyes 
prolongingly 
have settled upon it
And though this may be futile
in the observation post
The irony of apples
has unsettled me the most
for example we're aware 
that we have no control
of the curiosity
that tightly grips our soul
never feeling sated 
even when it's overfed
and in this claim there's no dissent
it's stuck inside our head
this cruel insatiability
that tickles us the most
a hostage taking inquiry
of which we're full-engrossed
with thought-stealing questions
sabotaging all content
or ease of living data-less
no sleeplessness and hence
only then appreciate
the bliss of ignorance
I can't deny the happiness
I see upon the faces
of the children that we raise
ignorant of any traces
of the crimes and the cruelty
the older ones impart
when they find themselves repeating
what it is that broke their heart
but our kids 
not aware 
of the triple explanations 
of the very same thing
and the extra complications 
that maturity will bring
So I guess I have a new
appreciation for the lack
of the tendency for overthought
If I could get it back
the innocence and wonderment
of that inner child
Is it home?  Is it alone?
Or has it company inside?
Sometimes we think we know a lot
by colored charts and pies
but wisdom isn't satified
by downloading the sky
And now I make discoveries
within a strange mundanity
the most overlooked of things
has revealed a new philosophy
And so although I cannot change
the things that we were taught
I can pretend to rearrange
the nature of my thought
maybe I can settle them 
or settle down the breeze
of questions in the background 
that flow eternally
A restlessness too much indulged
can make one full of strife
but rest can I now, finally,
After all, it's only life

Illinois, Oh boy

I followed Katie to Decatur
I followed Katie to Decatur
I couldn't let the cabbie take her
So break the line, Operator!

Wishing for permission to bear on your position
Taking all the wrong roads in between
Hoping for results, undeniably felt
it doesn't really even 
have-to-be seen

I followed Katie to Decatur
I didn't want the train to take her
I followed Katie to Decatur
She couldn't leave without goodbye
I didn't want to believe
that'd she leave me
with no words said
but anyway
I could believe it
if it were happening 
not to me......would you agree?

Waiting at the station and deserving isolation
for the creep-stalker habits in play
I call and I text
but with no reply yet
Well, what could make you
turn your head my way?

And another thought, 'fore it 
disappears is caught, I should have 
let it slip away from dirty hands.
Or will they so become,
if the plan I think is done
and make regret 
continually expand.

So slap a shower to my face
the lonely steps I will retrace
back to my place
to let the poor girl be
Maybe the distances at last
had caught my heart a chill and fast
and so I shake my head
and make a firm retreat.


I left my Katie in Decatur
I left her there, so see ya later
She was my Katie in Decatur
Now I have to say goodbye


And now I sit and stare
what made my head so unaware
of how my heart had made
the rest of me a slave?
Infatuation of the day
eventually was held at bay
from reasons of mundanity
I share my full calamity
and now I thank the readers eyes
for being with me all this while
not to adandon or dismay
you've gotten nearly all the way
to the end of verse today
it was a song, and now it's more
what usefulness I know not for
But if humor doth it grow
it's useless not, that much I know

But maybe Katie in Decatur knows, eh?

Morning crows

Some folks
aim a little
lower than they should
to settle for
a thing that isn't bad,
but neither good.
One hopes
to find a thing
that's new or off the hook
Something they have read about
in children's storybooks
how heros are created from
the under-rated freaks
that live inside humility
or so I hear it speak
Of 'course I don't mean literally
a voice inside my pen
it's my imagination
so put down the DSM
No psychosis yet, says he
Ha ha ha ha pour vous
In later-phase insanity
the joke becomes on you
("you" with "vous"
aint that a cheat
translation rhyming words)
Oh well say he and I and we
this thing is for the birds
and so with hectic throw
I'll give it lunge toward the crows
they will make a cawing sound
that makes you blood run chill
My father ran with pots in hand
"I''ll scare them, yes I will"
not so, not so, so feeble was
the plan with pan and pot.
I laugh without control when I
just see it in my thoughts
I wasn't there, but heard the thing
upon the break of day
The story told with timing
like comedians would say
So when I hear the caw
of murder birds in morning tree
My old man with pot and pan
jumps out from memory
and breaks into my conscious thought
to provoke a loud gaffaw!
And in this way inside today
for now, I'll miss Papa.....

The illusion of time

Didn't want to let it
slip away from my grasp
not a one single day
that I should ever let pass
before I make litte verse
on the pages of here
my contribution to words
before I dis-appear
from this version of I
that lives inside-of-my-head
it'll happen for sure
come the day when I'm dead
not so pleasing to think
that immortatily aint
our reality here
so we must reaquaint
ourselves with the now
and in the now stay
that is all that there is
really, anyway.
No past or the future
had reality made
only figments of time
in a cosmic charade

Pig with apple in mouth

Sometimes I wanna eat
An apple-y pig
I could further explain
But I'm guessing you dig.
Sometimes I crave the things
That I never have had
for experiences new
That bubble up just a tad.
But repeated revisits
come without a relent
From the feelings I've said
From the netherland sent
Do not leave me alone
For a significant time
So here I will reveal
This little secret of mine
And so the rise and the fall 
of light from east to the west
to make another day seen
by everyone and the rest
from the bright to the dull
and all the folks in between
the light revealed to them all
no matter how it was seen
as a particular beam
casting a shadow of lace
or as a blinding obscene
dose of fusion through space
but no matter the where
the cost for all is the same
and for a few billion years
that cost will remain
But that I mean it is free, 
or so for earthlings at least
And the time is still long
so don't lose any sleep
it'll still be some years
'fore the sun do earth eat. 
In 5 billion years,
the earth will have it's defeat
so relax my new friend,
your grandchildren are safe
from the catastrophe then
and so the fears I have ain't.
And I think that be it
this little ditty by me.
I hope you may have found it 
amusing, mildly
and if you disagree not
and that you hopefully will
if spread this verse you around
my beating heart would be still
if you would share with your peeps
my blog of this or the past
My karmic thanks you will have
my friend, It won't be the last!

The Ides of July

This is my favorite season
My favorite slice of earth's ellipse
When parts above equator
Are more generously lit.
We call it summer, and I like
The freedom we now share
To walk outside our door
Not thinking what we need to wear
To avoid the chill and cold and slush
And all that sucks profound
About the winter that can rob
our "soul for getting down".
Vincent Price!  He was the man
That Jacko had to pay
To make his famous laugh be heard
As "Thriller" fades away.
But me thinks, I did digress
To culture herrings red
I was contemplating heat
Let's return to that instead
Ahh yeah! The summer months!
So awesome cool and hot
Full of smiling people
Drinking beer and smoking pot
And seeing lots of people
Barely wearing any clothes
A lipstick tube could contain
Some outfits that they own
But no complaints for me, no way
I'll take it all in stride
I'll celebrate the tolerance
And celebrate the pride.  : )

Garberater 8 ya later

Octameter

This could be a little fun
Fitting 8 accents in one
Extended phrase, 2 quarter lines
In length like music common time
It's on a scorcher of a day
I drink the sun and shift my gaze
From street to street and side to side
Drinking scenery in stride
Eyes and all receptors wide
Open curious to see
Everything we can perceive
Unquenchable this thirst of ours 
Mapping Venus Earth and Mars
Won't satisfy our detail lust
So on we go and forward must
We go until we find what tends
The light we see at tunnel's end.

little Bumbaloo

I couldn't dare wait another day
Before I threw the old format away
I had seven accents in a phrase
But lest I put the reader in a daze
{and likely so it's happened thusly hence
I hope that not too many jumped the fence
Or hopefully nobody at all
Had run without hitting back the ball.
I decided then to begin the next phase
5 accents for now I think is the way
That I'll make departure from the norm
So not all my catalogue conforms
To the things I've done before today
And so THAT fear at least,
shall go away

But have I anything to really say
Beyond the style I'll use to help convey
Such messages, or message, if there be
Such a thing? Assuming you agree
The time you spend with me is not unwise.
I'll help you to avoid mistakes of mine
And give an angle on some other things
Particularly one I'd like to bring
To the very forefront of today:
A feeling that has never gone away
Since the day she came upon this earth
(And on that day, I too, had rebirth)

(:)

the feeling that requickened me:
a love that doesn't care
whether it's deserved or not
or put on any airs
completely unconditional
to any circumstance
completely indissolveable
immune to whim or chance.
that love is for my little girl
who now is only 2
but everyday she's here I feel 
like I could kiss the moon
and too the sky of course
as Hendrix liked to say
but I'm acting silly
with a giddiness each day
that even though she ages 
the excitement doesn't sway
So thank you sweet Alexa
for the smile that you have made
a feature almost permanent
and me and mommy's face.

'es....that is!


I gave a brief 
reverting to the past
but it's been contained, 
you see at last
and so these lines 
do end a brief relapse 
to the seven accents, 
but I sass,
of course there couldn't be any regret
in rhyming 'bout the sweetest girl I've met
There's nothing that for her I wouldn't give
and thankfulness I feel superlative
for gratefully receiving such a gift.
A heart could feel otherwise adrift
without such a sure and steady beat
felt from your hair to your feet
the love that she has given and received
before we would never have believed
that such a thing was possible in ways
that exceeded all predictions we had made
or at least assumed in our ignorance
and we've learned how wrong that we were, since
And now we do embrace the mystery
that gave us what we firmly do believe
(of course we know all parents have the same
feelings for their spawn in every way)
A galaxy's perfected masterpeice
Lays upstairs, soundly asleep
for reasons that we'll never comprehend
This beauty, to us, has been given
And though it is responsibility
In ways our youth never dared conceive
We're paid in measures far beyond our risk
We feel it daily, double asterisk
** in the pitter-patter of her run
from room to room upstairs when having fun
in the little babbling she does
the cutest phrases that there ever was!
We feel daily even unadorned
with any specificity that's formed
And so I can no longer keep inside
this freak epiphany I cannot hide
All that I can do is try to write
And hope a word or two might take to flight
And land on commerserating hearts

Camaraderie received to then impart

Septamanic Horticulturalist

Maybe I should redesign
With new parameters
An architechture deviant
to my septameter
And find anew a different pace
To navigate this path
So that I see variety
when gazing on the past
That will be a different fun
From what I've had so far
Maybe someday I will be
an iambic superstar!
And some of your may say "Hey man,
maybe you're confused?"
And I would say, without delay
"That I can't disprove
But if wrecker-man looks up from hood
and says "your motor's junk",
I'll just laugh, be on my way
on foot, and flip a thumb
And onward down that dotted line
that fades to wavy heat
I'll be travelling to find
my awaiting destiny


And then of course,
you'll notice now,
if not already so
that deviating this is not
from prior rhythms rode
Septa-heavy this still be
In the parlance of the profs**
The one's to whom we flipped the bird
and cursed under a cough
So change of form will have to wait
until these lines are through
I think the waiting won't be long
especially for you!

**
(red-herring)
We'd not succeed in the least
in hiding our disdain
for this testament of rules
that seemed so in the way
of every true creative mind.
But I've learned it isn't so.
The devil, and the angels too
are in the details that we know
Everything is nuanced
with a kind uncertainty
And sometimes not so kind
but often best for what we need
So run from those who never give
their thoughts a second guess
I've found each time my facts are more
my certainty is less
Just a little knowledge
is a danger thing indeed
Best know all or not-at-all
avoid the in-between
but of course impossible
these words to put to use
knowing-all can't be done and
there's no apple-antabuse
You laugh in knowing such is moot
no cure do yet have we
nor have we found an antidote
to curiosity.
And why would we?  ; )

Hey Hey what can I say?

Here's #10! That's it my friend
And now the tale is told!
For though it not be with regret
The time has come to fold
This little mental trip of mine
was quite a little fun!
It's seems to be too easily 
completed now it's done
But I think it won't be soon
when I'll do this again.
I'll write, of course,
sincerely yours,
my sonnets, but not 10.
Or not so in the space of time
that I declared today.
This was great, but only fate
would likely have much sway
in reconvincing part of me
a sequel is a fine
way to get immunity
to passages of time.
I'll make a bet,
you couldn't get
investors here today
If all we ever talked about 
is what is on the way.
We needed something
Ultra-cool to set ourselves apart
Something we had in the can
That we had from the start.
With only just a moment
left before it left for good,
the moment came
with the refrain
that changed the world, or would.
"What ever do you mean?"
I'm sure you must be thinking now.
I think I'm sharing thoughts the same
That's rather strange, somehow.
But, oh well. I can't complain
there's far too many things
of which I can make any sense
and tenses are the thing
that freak me out the most somehow
Like being in a block
of time made of styrofoam
that's laughing on the dock.
Well perhaps, nothing's like that
And now it's time to go.
My thoughts have twisted
pretezel-style into the drain below.
And now I'll part and take my leave
but not for long I think.
I'll have a sleep, then have a peek
and then another wink.
I'll take to bed these crazy things
that bounce under my cap
And in this strange lumosity
I'll memorize the map
To where I know I've got to be
before I'm out of time
To reach the pot of gold 
that I can see they left behind.

#9

Its true that I cannot deny
The pleasure being here
Vying for your diamond eyes
Within the blogosphere

Your readership a treasure be
To me that's uncompared.
In this exchange I really hope
The better you have fared.

I like to spread delightful vibes
That sink into the bone
A pleasure stream of dreams you
speak of only when alone

The courage to forget the noise
Of trouble-making freaks
Your inner voice perceives the truth
So listen when it speaks

And now this is penultimate,
the second-last of all
There's not much farther yet to go
One more, and that is all.

But in suspense I'll keep you now
It's only right and fair
A little tension now must build
To thicken up the air
We need a little mystery
on whether 10 will be
the final number of these post this Sunday
We will see....
And once I again, I give you thanks
for being super you
And if you have a mind to share
You'll have my gratitude!

#8

Now I'm spending hour two
With Seth and scooter kids
Inside a skater park
Outside the wave pool building, is.
The day is making shadows long
My thoughts are slowing too
I never liked this time of day
They call late-afternoon.
But this be another chance
To aim it fairly low
My minimum requirement
Is as far as I can go!

#7

I don't know about you,
But I think I'm having a blast
Segregating words
into those I hope will last
longer than 3 seconds more than
what we can agree
would keep the boredom clear at bay
or that's my hope, at least.

Of course sometimes the ball is dropped
in less than awesome words
Or sentences unpretty like,
"You can't polish a turd"
But that one is a classic
spoke in all recording rooms.
You must of course
perfect the source
before you can improve.
Turning knobs to kindom-come
Won't make a classic sound
The mix you make is hostage-held
To what you first laid down.
At least that is my wax-
poetic take on studios
I must admit, I dig that space
Why?  It's hard to know.
Maybe 'cause it's Lego-like
In ways of building sound
I hope the ones I make will circulate
when I'm in the ground
or better yet, I hope my wait
is not that long indeed
It's better to embrace a thing
Than see it unachieved!

#6

Alrighty then, hello again
And steady as she goes
Hoping these words are not met
with yearning for some prose
or anything that doesn't rhyme
by now you must've thought
but that's the nature of my goal
today, so I cannot
capitulate or make retreat
until I've got all 10
of my summer Sunday rhymes
that peotically pretend
to take their place among that tome
of literary thought
Be not deceived,
no place has these
words amidst that lot.
Over a fence of arrogance
must I take my thoughts
to think that I would qualify
to even disgree
to think I could be rightly stood
among those genuisees : )
And double this my minimum
Was met before this line
Just in case you're counting
Or keeping score in time.

Halfway done the day of rest

And so I figure halfway done
this poem makes the mark
I'm glad you're here
Life's more severe alone
and in the dark
But somehow I can feel your eyes
through space and time and thought
It's hyper-real
and unconceiled,
but overlooked a lot.
I'm talking 'bout connectedness
that gives all those who think
an super-edge when even death
cannot dissolve our link
with all the lessons of the past
and every big mistake
that's written in the history books
and thus we're free to make
the inferences we must
so we can get along
with all the earth's inhabitants
without committing wrong.

Bumble heavy do

Me and sweet pumpkin-head
Still not yet at our door
She seems to not want to go home
which I can't blame her for.
It's started overcast
and with drizzle when we left.
The sun is out, with mercury
up 10 degrees, I'll bet.
And now she's all obsessed
with touching all the SUVs
parked in this dirt parking lot
And then she stops to see
The letters on their license plates
And does her ABC's.
That's all folks, we'll go for now,
But not for long.  You'll see!

#3

Still out and having fun 
with super bumblaee!
So I'll say without delay
Here's poem #3.
And only cause I feel the time
Is now come to pass
That least amount of lines I'll write
Is the only goal I have
But just for now, because I'm getting
heavy-fat with words.
A new and weird anomoly
Of which I've never heard!

Bumbling

Out with my little sweet
Missy Bumbaloo
And I thought I'd give a go
At writing poem number 2
Inspiration, I began
to wonder would it be
Always with me at my side
Throughout this new journey?
Well that won't be a problem
for this part of the ride
My muse is never far
When my daughter's at my side
She lifts the weary spirit
To allow a soul to fly
Always brings my face a smile
And sparkles to my eye

So onward, over, under, through
I follow her about
The playground and the soccer field
And never long without
My familiar outstretched hand
To steady up her chase
Sometimes she's possessed with speed
as if she's in a race
Of all the things I love to do
I love this most of all
Being there to watch her
scramble up from every fall.

So now I will resume this walk
And later scratch my head
And wonder not if I've lost the plot
In making such a bed
That I feel I must lie in
Now that I've set this goal
And public too!
So I must choose
To finish.
Not to fold.  : )

So then what happened?

An idea came, and I said, "hey
Let's see if I can write
10 times in a single day
Without putting up a fight"
Why not that? What'd ya say?
I just wanna see
How far that I can take it
Well, there's just one way to see.
Just one way to measure 
Just how far that it can go
Maybe it's a superpower,
I don't really know.
But of course I'm jazzing you,
There's not much here to see
Just a guy who likes to try
New things enthusingly!
And anyway there's nothing much
today I gotta do
So with a paper and a pen
I'll sit and chat with you
And if I'm tempted lazy
I'll endevour not to be.
If four lines is the minumum,
I'll multiple by 3.
Sounds kinda fun!
It think it is
Don't you agree?
So jump on in
And take the ride
And join the revelrey
If only to discover 
if I finish, naturally!

On on the 6th day...

Ever take an email holiday
without ever leaving home?
And if you did, how long did it last?
How long could you leave it alone?
before the sweat would trickle down
with thoughts about the list
of bold unopened messages?
What if some things were missed?
I'm doing so, and even though
its only been a day
or maybe 2, I get confused
without screens in my way.
I must admit, an inner fit
is growing silently
small yet in it's magnitude
but unambigiously
gaining traction, mass and flow
and sheer velocity...

I'm aiming for a 1/4 pie
of short-concentric lines
getting 3 bars in the corner
of this pocket screen of mine
and thinking of that tension taught
and cut with steamy knife
of the cybernet injection
easing Jones of off-grid life.

But this just a fantasy
I've had no such restraint
I story teller I may be
but always truthful... ain't.
But truthful in a prior tense,
for though I may not be
in current cyber abstinence
I have those memories
Of days I did precisely that
and take no Wifi with
And I remember that I had
much pleasure 'cause of it.
I was no cyber-Jonesin'
freak out in the woods!
I think I did enjoy myself.
I think I'll call it good.
Of course I made it back to streets
of urban lights and poles
Before connection-abstinence
could take it's proper hold.
So this is still I road I've not
tread down all of the way.
But soon I hope such confidence
will visit,
eat,
and stay.

Looking at the stars....

Fairly far the feeble fragments
of my fleeting thoughts
like fireflys and dancing eyes
that never can be caught
Then rest upon the mistress
of that ornamented sky
the light pollution whiting out
the stars that twinkle by
And looking up I see them
as they looked deep in their youth
I'm kissing nature with my tongue
Inhaling when I'm through
Though you may not take much offence,
historically of course
Obscenities aren't really real
inside a metaphor
But be that as it may, I'm told
Nature does seduce!
It can and does
And will, because
It has no other moves
It's never less than awesome!
Never blah or so-and-so
Wherever nature take us,
If alive, we have to go.
Our quaint illusions of control
or immortality
makes Nature smirk with eyes a-roll
She whispers roaringly,
"Locking door won't help, you know,
I have a master key!"
So climb the mountains if you must
Or ride white-water flow
But if you do remember what
the great explorers know
Nature can't be conquered
Never could be, never close
So deep respect must hug your chest
And make sure that you know
We're only here a fleeting time
And we don't own this plot
She allows our tenancy,
But dominion we have not.

Yours eyes to me are pearls in the oysters of the 'net...

...
Love to share, if you dare, 
in gratitude I'll bet
no greater rival would be had, 
than would be so in me
and so be it, the end of this, 
my rhymes of OCD

http://steveharleyremedy.blogspot.ca/

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Come and join the revelry of funk

Just a little evil in my coffee...

You know of course it's Monday.
Another day another dollar, JJ used to say
I once heard someone smart say don't start your day with your inbox.
But I did get 'round to it before noon, and that wasn't a bright idea either.
But it did give me a chance to polish up on my evil.   Not real evil, of course.
Just the same kind of evil that makes Tony Soprano ask his neighbor to "hang on to this for a little while", while handing him a brown-paper-wrapped package......that only Tony knows is filled with sand.
But it's not even that evil.  They started it.  They send me this email this morning....
Subject: DO YOU WISH TO FORFEIT??

the message (accurately reproduced here, character for character):


Late Mr. Rolf Hoffmann bequeathed 12,030,000.00 USD to you, contact Dean Harry Esq. via deanharrylawfirm@yahoo.com  Tel: +447035919540 


Ahhhhh, this is just too much fun to pass up.  Make no mistake, this is a scam, pure and simple, stake my life, 100%.   Other than it's utter absurdity, the single biggest indicator that it's a scam are the inevitable and omnipresent errors in syntax.   I've yet to see a scan that didn't have at least one mistake in english, and usually it's littered with them.  Even in a message this short, there is a varitable textbook of errors that are too much fun to ignore.  Firstly, where's the greeting?  Where's the goodbye?  Where's the "The" before the "Late Mr. Rolf".  I think the extra $30k, might be somebody's hurried attempt to make the sum look somewhat less made-up.  And of course that should be a period after "you".
Normally I'd leave it at that and go on with my day, but like I said....this was too much fun to ignore.
So I responded, both to the sender of the message, and the lawfirm in the sentence.  Here's what I said:

Dear Mr......oh, you didn't leave your name, so I'll assume it's the name of the sender....Dorril

As you see, the lack of particulars, like a formal introduction, induces me to believe this is just another scam.

The apparency of such is nearly always given away first by syntactical errors.

However, as I do still possess that uniquely human curiosity to my occasional detriment (if only for the ride)...

 I'll give myself to wander 

upon a path that ponders 

why a stranger would bequeath 

such extraordinary sums, 

not to his family, or his favorite charity 

or the party of his favor, but a stranger....and just one!?

If you have wit enough to answer, I'll delight in taking this game a step further, if only to discover whose name I'll attach to the fraud complaint, or what sum you want me to send you first, before all my worldly ills are solved.  Clearly you don't deserve the least of my attention.  But I'm feeling a little evil today, and want to play with you as my cat does to it's helpless quarry.  You game?  Good.  Get ready.  Stand back.  Watch out.  Now you've pissed me off  : )

The last man on today's unseen silent email list.   

ha. 

ha ha.

MMMWWWWWHAAAAAAAA     HAAAAA   HAAAAA   HAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hey happy 4th of the July South of the Line (belated, but of course)

So I'm just a day late, but nothing else is new
And thankfully I'm still around to give congrads to you
the Country that I loved to drive
with wanderlust and cheer
from the Lone Star to the place
where Tea had soaked the pier
Was quite a thrill to see the place
where once did live the King
and northward drove 'til I came home
on allabaster wings
Many things I saw then first
many smiles and hands did greet
the memories I now take home
are rocking me to sleep
So happy birthday country south
of me since I've been 'round
A new perspective I have gained
New appreciation found!

Happy Canada and Cannibis Day plus 2. Happy Pluto almost here day minus 11. 
And so 2 days ago on Citadel Hill..... 
Weed-cookie cops 
checking out the props, 
so was the scene on the hill. 
or that's what they say, 
for I was not they,
 but safely inaccessible. 
She asked if they'd like some "food to take with?" 
They took....then walked away. 
With a smile and a tweet, 
The exchange was complete. 
Only barter was working that day. 
Did they know what they had? 
Did they have half-a-tad of the commonest sense in the world? 
Surely they must....or else be the dummust from the dumbest helixes ever unfurled ( : ) )
 It was thick in the air, my son Let's be clear, 
we see this every first of July 
So if naivity be, 
their excuse, pardon me 
but I must sell them the air, "rare supply!" 
And from what happened then 
We can only pretend 
And imagine they revelry had. 
And so maybe next year 
I'll get my apron and gear 
and my camera and visit the lads!