Our Lore

The page turns again in our book

A new chapter is reached, how many more?

The sentences run on the harder you look,

On to eternity, forever and always to the core.

Are You Lonesome Tonight

Lyrics from the song by Elvis.

 

You know someone said that the worlds a stage
And each must play a part.
Fate had me playing in love you as my sweet heart.
Act one was when we met, I loved you at first glance
You read your line so cleverly and never missed a cue
Then came act two, you seemed to change and you acted strange
And why I’ll never know.
Honey, you lied when you said you loved me
And I had no cause to doubt you.
But I’d rather go on hearing your lies
Than go on living without you.
Now the stage is bare and Im standing there
With emptiness all around
And if you wont come back to me
Then make them bring the curtain down.

Dearest,

Today I laid down in my pillow and was overcome by the un-extinguishable flame of love.

Love for you dearest, despite the challenges such feelings would invariably produce. Though I may be scorned by your mother and tolerated by your father, I still feel there is a chance to win them over. Alas, there acceptance will not suffice- for it is yours which I crave. Your beauty and passion act beacons of light in these otherwise dark times of my heart.

With my soul longing to adhere to thine own I ask you now dearest- will thou cradle and love me for all the remaining seasons of our love? Will thou cherish the memories to come and preserve the times since past?

In short, dearest love, I ask thee now to be my lover, my soul mate, my best friend, and my wife.

Forever Yours,

Vincent

Low Tide Blues

 

Low tide blues, low tide blues

I got them low tide blues.

When a woman’s got your heart by the balls

There’s not much you can do.

Low tide blues, low tide blues

I got them low tide blues.

Under the rays of the sun the sand is exposed

To shrivel and die like the proverbial rose.

Low tide blues, low tide blues

I got them low tide blues.

When the surf floods back at the end of the day

All those troubles will be washed away.

 

August 11, 2009

Carry Your Tender Heart

 

The summer winds of love have brought us together.

Now those winds carry us apart.

Not tear, shear, hew, or rip- but carry.

Carry your tender heart.

 

August 11, 2009

Vendetta Bug- Two Poems in One

Vendetta Bug

 

Vendetta     Bug

Ion               Action

Next             Stop

Cat               Ethanol

Energy         Bee

Next             Antagonizes

Talk              Late

                       Line

 

August 10, 2009

The Black Eagles

The Black Riders

by Stephen Crane

Black riders came from the sea.

There was clang and clang of spear and shield,

And clash and clash of hoof and heel,

Wild shouts and the wave of hair

In the rush upon the wind:

Thus the ride of sin.

From “All Ready Gone”

by The Eagles

Well, I know it wasn’t you who held me down.
Heaven knows it wasn’t you who set me free.
So often times it happens, that we live our lives in chains-
That we never even know we have the key.

Ode to the Restless, to the Alive

He sits shotgun by the window watching the wheat roll by.

Speeding down the country road, only one thing’s on his mind-

And it ain’t the G-men seven miles behind.

The clouds don’t give a damn about who he is,

Where he comes from, or who he knows.

But he doesn’t care either, to hell with those

Who hold him back and say he has to conform.

Conform to a life corrupted, to a world unjust;

He’ll bust out lookin’ for the wind on his face.

And he’ll find it too. 

Now those clouds are upon him, steadily gaining.

The lightning screams and the tires crash.

And it’s all over faster than the Tommy’s flash.

He lays in the gravel, dust in his hair, bleeding from his heart.

The clouds stand above him, and his fedora blows away

To keep the spirit alive of a warrior who played his part;

Livin’ the good life at no one’s pace but his own-

Sitting shotgun on a country road watching the wheat roll by.

Crimson Fedoras

A man named Frank Pesceula walks into a bar. He means business. He spots the man he’s looking for, Dale Jones, at the bar. Frank taps him on the shoulder and Dale turns around.

FRANK : Hi’ya Dale.

DALE (nervous): Oh, hi’ya Frank! Nice to see ya!

FRANK: Don’t be a wise guy. You know what happens to wise guys.

DALE: Yeah, yeah, sure I do Frank. So how was the joint this time of year?

Frank looks him him with a death glare.

DALE (CONt’d): No! I was just being friendly.

FRANK: Sounded a little too fresh for my taste. Hey bartender! What’s a guy gotta do for a drink around here?

BARTENDER: Sorry Mr. Pescuela. Mr. Jones was distracting me with his big mouth.

FRANK: Yeah, he does sort of a big mouth doesn’t he?

DALE: Now look Frank believe it or not, I’m glad you’re out. I think whatever bad blood we had in the past should just be forgotten.

FRANK: You’d like that wouldn’t you?

DALE: Oh very much.

FRANK: Sorta bury the hatchet?

DALE: Exactly. Whatt’ya say?

FRANK: You know you cost me a lot, Dale. Six years in the State pen is hard to just bury.

DALE: Yeah, I can imagine. But you know it wasn’t my fault. Pitts McGraw took your girl, remember? He was the double crosser. He left you with nothing and instead of just bumping you off in peace he turned you over the cops to rot in that trap for the rest of your life. It was Pitts McGraw, now I’m on the level.

FRANK: I wish you was on the level, Dale. You was my best friend. You took me in and showed me the ropes. There was only one problem- you did the same for Pitts.

He gets up and stands over Dale. 

FRANK (CONT’D): And when you saw the real dough was in his rum running and there was no use for me you just let him ruin me. YOU LET HIM!

DALE: No! I swear Frank. What he was doing I didn’t know about!

Frank pulls out a gun.

FRANK: There’s more to bury than that hatchet, Dale. There’s the knife in my back and your dirty carcass. 

Frank shoots Dale violently, pays for his drink, and exits.

Blue Cliff

This is something old that I had written in Tenth Grade in Mrs. Pugh’s class. Unlike everything else here there is no meaning behind this one, haha. Just enjoy the story of Cliff.

 

Cliff was blue.

Cliff hadn’t a clue.

Cliff had no idea what to do.

Math was impossible

His teeth were unflossable.

Cliff hadn’t a clue

Cliff hadn’t a clue.

 

Cliff asked his wife,

“Where do I fit in, in life?”

Cliff’s wife replied with a lie,

“Just don’t remarry when I die.”

Cliff hadn’t a clue

Cliff hadn’t a clue.

 

Cliff asked the old buck,

“Why does my life suck?”

The old buck replied with a lie,

“Just don’t use that knife to end my life.”

 

Cliff ate the old buck that night.

He knew everything was going to be all right.