Memory Lapse

 

memorylapse

 

Memory Lapse

Inevitability on the edge of reality.

Somewhere at the intersection of duality.

It was the year that leaped over

a nest of cuckoo’s.

Tic Tok goes the clock.

The journey is non-stop.

Time is the loop.

The speed of light is the duration

relative to universal expectation.

Days become a time lapse of the Picasso.

Nights become a blink of an eye.

Glimpse into the unthinkable

as a rubber band of expansion retracts.

On the outskirts of dimension

the way is continuously milky

dipping into the hour of zero.

© 2016 Jfreshly Modern Linguistics Song Blog. All Rights Reserved.

This poem was inspired by time relative to age.  When I was younger I thought the days would never end.  The nights would last forever.  The older I get the shorter the season.  Days feel as automated as a breathe of air.  The nights vanish into sunrise. 

 

Dreamscape

Dream Brain Waves

Original Art Credit: Denise D Art Everyday

Ride the wave

into the isle of duality.

Where man creates

an alternate reality.

Agaricus Bisporus (Mushroom)

based dreams

affect the atmosphere

of canvass.

Psychedelic recluse’s

garlic induced energy

clouds – project stunning

visuals.

© 2016 Jfreshly Modern Linguistics Song Blog. All Rights Reserved.

Flower Blossoms Wither in the Growl

PotterGOTHRONES

This photo was taken days before the “Battle of Bastards”

A letter delivered via raven transcribed

 

My sweet flower.

My delightful piece of Brie.  (Brie cheese is a tasty delight don’t you think?)

My Love,

where art thou?

Without you by my side its

a perpetual state of ground hogs day (Bill Murray was great in this movie.)

I had hoped you would

have reached out to me

by this hour.

I miss watching the fear in your eyes

wash away at one glance into

my fierce mug (Mug in this reference is not a drinking apparatus but in actuality is a slang term for face.)

Desire; Submissively allow claws to gently clench

against your flesh as a reminder.

This nightmarish dream of vertigo

turns into warmth as you

fall into my arms…said the wolf.

© 2016 Jfreshly Modern Linguistics Song Blog. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

The Red Maple

 

RedMaple

 

A grand maple tree
stands in the midst of a concrete jungle
Cigarettes to burn
as the world turns
Martinis consumed in the elegance
As well rounded philanthropists
are caught up in the element
Level of intoxicity reached
Current events transition into the irrelevant
Overnight
The DJ spins trance
Spirits blossom in the dance

© 2016 Jfreshly Modern Linguistics Song Blog. All Rights Reserved.

 

The Red Maple night club has closed and in the grand finale I stood with the tree.  I closed my eyes while holding the limbs and found a deep meditation.  This tree has heard many of the nights whispers. It has seen young lovers kiss, heard secrets and kept them in the shadows, and watched over the patrons of this fine establishment since its conception.  It was an honor to dance for you…stand with you…let the druid speak as the winds gush.  You are loved.

 

 

One Percent

One Percent

 

It’s a sad day in Mudville,

the early bird has caught the worm.

A coalition of neck ties strangle

a regime of white collars.

Loafers eagerly seek pennies while

marching on a street made of walls.

You can still hear the echo of the starting gun

as a pig shaped nimbus slowly eats away at

the blue sky.

The American dream.

The few, the proud, the ones immune to the insatiable greed.

Ostracized by jargon of the democratic republic.

Free souls labeled hippies.

Those that would prefer to live among the trees.

Whom value the right of future generations to have fresh air to breath.

The credo:

Lifestyle is freedom.

Corporations who needs ’em.

© 2016 Jfreshly Modern Linguistics all rights reserved.

 

Pears-Shake on a holographic Fruit Tree

meditation-tips

 

 

 

 

 

A mirror of reflection hosts a pond of lilies.

Jagged rock eroded by time becomes smooth.

The great philosophers stone.

Currents of energy focus the meditation.

The mantra.

The almighty “Om”

Medium of the spirit.

As the Earth rotates,

an endless vibration occurs,

at the rate of constant.

Where are we going?

Someone is showing me the way but I’m not walking.

I have questions that need answers.

I hear voices no one’s talking.

Ticktock clock stops flowing.

Karma lines been broken down.

Kneel before him.

The shaman with no name.

© 2016 Jfreshly Modern Linguistics all rights reserved.

 

Questions asked by the fool.

  1. Are the dead grateful now that they have Mr. Garcia?
  2. Should you be Leary of men named Tim offering sugar cubes?
  3. Is it wrong to say “Betelgeuse” three times to gain entrance into the Netherworld?
  4. How about Candyman? (Not a chance…Dude was Scary as #@%$)
  5. If a poet streams his conscientious on a blog and no one reads it does it really exist?

These conundrums were philosophized Thoreaughly by a poet traversing the wilderness.

 

 

 

Billie Goat

Billie Goat

I have sinned
The say’in goes
Sinners can’t be saints
So I’ll dance the night away
A country fate
Blue grass billies
Dance on the hill
It’s never just the wind
A fragrance of violins
Blankets a field of Patagonian land lovers
That sit in unison to the vibe of kinship
Steel mugs filled until the process of froth
Brewed on the mountain tops named Sierra
That pale in contrast
To the magnificence of folk music
Delivered in the luxury of a warm breeze
© 2016 Jfreshly Modern Linguistics all rights reserved.