Musings, Poetry, Walking Logs

Walking Log #1 – Here there be dragons

I had a crazy idea.  You see, each time I go for a walk, I snap a quick picture of something that interests me.  Today I thought, what if I wrote about my walks and shared the photos and whatever else might come to mind?  Well, it’s my blog, isn’t it?  Why the hell not?  So here goes.  I don’t know if it qualifies as poetry or not, but maybe someday it might.  Even if it doesn’t, it was fun and that’s really all that matters in the end.

Sent from my iPod –

Trees bending, wiggly, tickle fingers my way
Crimson bushes, heart-shaped, then not
Breeze pushing, increasing the pace
Millipede-leg tree leaves dancing wildly
While conifer partners softly sway
Sudden scent, lilacs
Pounding pulse on concrete
Vivid purple spikes
Spindly spider, Dragons in the clouds

Home.

Image
I see a dragon taking flight, head held up and back on it’s long neck, with a faint wisp of smoke curling from it’s snout.
Image
I see only the dragon’s head, mouth gaping, eyes sunken, and horns trailing back to the right of the frame.
Guest Entries, Poetry

And Now For Something Completely Different: A Poetic Guest Post

The work of my friend David of DJ Bailey Empires speaks for itself.  I hope you enjoy this poem as much as I did!

~The Beat Stops Here.~
*
From the time that I was born
until the day I meet my divine maker
I will be listening to the beatbox drop
the tunes from Lancaster to Grandmaster
Flash..beats & drums, string-strung-strums
to the anesthetic hums of Jimi Hendrix and Social Distortions
Rock & Roll Full Forces
Making it easier for my daze to meet it’s living end.
___ ____ ____
But then there’s that one beat I just can’t stand.
____ ____ ____
That sirens like a chainsaw through galvenized cement grates
The back of a man’s hand hitting a woman’s face.
Her silence grows louder than Hiroshima screams
with the deafening sounds of;..”I’ve had it’s!”
Gliding across her bruised wrist’s.
Now! You’ve just awakened the reckoning
Of Gods fist beckoning me into benevolent vengence
A trade-off penance clock…of~~…”Not on our watch!”
Where we now bring-out devout justice
With Public Enemy’s on Black Stallions
And Black Sabbath’s as Grim Reapers
with seraph swinging sickles, pounding-out in High-def.
stereo surround sound of Led Zepp` P.A. system’s
devouring infamous decibels through his horrendous persistence.
To blast him out of her beatific existence
She was silent!
“And all you gave her was violence..?!”
Once an innocent child
Now a shell of the lady you should of made a Queen
Not a whipping-post martyr round-the-house castaway
With brutish tirades of everything that hadn’t gone your way!
Deconstructing a neglected billboard-drive-by, crying for release
So now…?
She will be carried off into a million overdue `Dignity Sunset’s`
As the sounds projective lights are spinning out of rhythm
With the two left feet, deaf unto her lovely passage
“As the beat….Stops…..Here.”
by David Tartaglia~David Jaxon Bailey…c.

__________________________________________________

Looking for more?  In the words of the artist himself:

“DJ Bailey Empires”– is set to express all forms of “original” entertainment…In the form of writing-poetry-spoken word poetry-slam poetry-classical-modern-music-dance-essay-journal-comedy-Dating tips-recipes- or even spinning on your head for an hour. Creative expression with no rules to your freedom of expression. (Except anger & harrassment)…Free to create on this page and share uploads & information , to better enhance the quality of life~love-free will~ and also to create an excepting exposure to the gift of you. dJb~* enjoy~*

Humor, Musings, Poetry

An Ode to Procrastination (Not really)

I’d write an Ode to Procrastination, but I haven’t got the time.

Sales and business prognostication weighs heavily on my mind.

Expenses, reports, and P & L – I haven’t got a clue

how to fix (or even tell) Quickbooks what to do.

Maybe I could read a book or blog to clear my head.

Should I give Facebook a quick look or just go back to bed?

Oh, sweet Procrastination, there’s nothing I wouldn’t pay

for an explanation that could magically save the day

and free my weary mind of this monetary drudgery

so that in my joy I could find the time to be with Thee.