Rhymes and Reasons

I guess I wish I would use this space for more of a diary approach. I just don't usually, although this post could turn into one I suppose. I guess the personal things (also the things I would actually have an authority to write on) I tend to shy away from. I wish I had the gumption to "lay it all on the table" each and every time I wrote something on here. Instead, I'll post some vague scrap from the word stack in my room, that seems only to add to the mounting question "what's the point" that's been plaguing (that might be too strong a word) me since the beginning. Sometimes I like the hodge-podgness I've created, other times I think it's despicable. Without laying out to well designed a structure, I think there are three kinds of blogs. 1. the cause blog. 2. the diary/journal blog. 3. the whatever blog.
Mine seems to be mostly "3". The title of this one subtly refers (unless your a big fan than it's not subtle) to an old John Denver song, whom I've listened to a lot, mostly when I was a wee one, and especially when decorating the Christmas tree. John Denver made a great Christmas Record that's become more than tradition in the Jensen household. I don't know anyone else that so reverently listens to John Denver around Christmas time. This may seem like a contradiction, yes, but embrace it people. It's a really good album. Wow, this post has almost completly no structure, or coherency.
There is a man in a plaid shirt with glasses, carrying a drink that has changed his mind 3 times on which way he wanted to walk as he passed our backyard. Thought you should know.
Yee ghosts of cyberspace.
I read alot. I think a lot. I need a lot of sleep. Music fills the gap like putty holding back some inevitable flood.
I bought a plane ticket (yes, it's true) to see my bestest friend Jeff (aka man) in San Diego In September. Yay for me. "Andy, how did you pay for that" you may be asking. "I'll get to that later" I reply with a backwards KC royals hat, noting the rough season, and hoping I get to go to a Padres game while in Cali.
Have a good evening/morning/afternoon.

The most recent thing written 10:15pm 7-23-05

fading lights
upside down reflections
from an upside down retina
looking at these passing lights
in the backseat of a mini-van
re-thinking what's been re-thought
too many times to tell.
using this soundtrack
to fuel the mind's streaming film
the narration pauses only
between acts,
and this one's been going for some time...

Untitled

hearts resonate the difference
on these bleak nights
folklore, while seemingly absent
from these towns,
remain in places you'll never look,
nooks and crannies inside another child
with sunken eyes from lack of sleep.

An open letter to bad musicians (like me)

I see through your search warrant.
I see through your errant eyes.
Come swiftly to your pre-determined destination
With a rhyming lyric in mind.

More Words (an attempt to display something, rather than just rambling)

I'm a mess. I'm totally fine. I'm a disaster waiting to see the light. I'm content, my heart is not racing.

I always, always want to allude to something i've already written, maybe to better explain myself, 'cause i'm afraid I can't explain myself, but don't want to repeat myself, don't want to beat a dead horse, rotting in the sun, rotting on the screen waiting for another dot, another comma, another pointless phrase.

I should move to North Pole, start a snow shoveling business. I should do this, and I should do that, probably should buy a new hat......okay, now I'm just being dumb......in an effort to salvage this post (if that's possible) i'll post an old "poem" (what the hell do you call these/those anyway) from a trip, when i was feeling better (in an order to do something positive, say something maybe with a twist of hope, for "art's" sake, for something...)this was sitting open faced on my amp waiting to be flipped over, or shared...whatever....


here goes.....

from 5-27-2005 12:10am

Late at night
when the time zone's still hold their sway
exasperate this story,
leak this scene to media moguls
who live in "the middle of nowhere"
listen like a forest
rain, rain, rain.
Feel the drops
read the next line
will your eyes open (sleeping IS an option)
put yourself in situatios
where it's easier to be "enlightened"
take a ferry to an island, if you can get there easily.
Stand on a long winded dock,
take in the salt water smell,
stand there long enough for it to soak in to your clothing...
tell yourself the moment is good enough for this...

words

I've been reading record reviews
I'm listening to the Headphones on Purevolume
I don't know how to make a link
I finally got a haircut
I don't like the haircut so much
My car overheats quite easily
I'm listening to talk radio
People are mad, people are angry
Briton got bombed, I sit here
I'm typing
I need some peace and quiet
Mom and Dad come home with new keys for the front door locks
The dog lays quietly in her closet
It is hot but not sweltering
I'm dabbling with new format
I'm reading myself
I'm not using as many dots today (ellipsis's if you will)
Another grocery session coming up
Ups passed us by like the deadly pesitlence
Jobs pay us
Jobs kill us
I sit, type, listen continue, ponder deleting,
...always pondering...

More wandering...

...When I go walking around downtown, I'm a potential blog-spewer. I'm full of enough content to fill a small kansas town library. Unfortunately it's never very positive. There's something about walking around downtown, that makes me feel like a dissenter of the dissenters; an individual lost in the over-individuality; a loner in a lonely world. I had a bag of old clothes to take to the Salvation Army, but they were closed and "dumping" as the sign points out is illegal. I should have assumed businesses would be closed on Indepence Day. I didn't expect the atm machine to be out of order though. My checking count is hanging by a thread, and it's essential that i deposit some checks. A Steve Buscemi look-a-like quips to me "it's all tapped out". I try and make stupid banter...."looks like there's no money left" I say. Dumb.....
I'm home and Mom is frying chicken in the kitchen. There are no fireworks in town these days, and it's harder to get excited about the city ones when you don't have a group to go with...