SCATTERBRAINS

Not moving or making a sound; of air or water; undisturbed by wind, sound, or current; calm & tranquil; of a drink such as wine; not effervescent.

Deep silence & calm; stillness—the still of the night; an ordinary static photograph as opposed to a motion picture, especially a single shot from a movie.

Confident gait & manner—having an even & regular surface or consistency; free from perceptible projections.

Of liquid; of the sea; of movement; of action.

Firmly fixed, supported, or balanced; not faltering or wavering; controlled.

Of a person sensible, reliable, and self-restrained—regular, even & continuous in development, frequency, or intensity.

Removes impurities or unwanted elements from, typically as a part of an industrial process; improves by making small changes, in particular, make an idea, theory, or method more subtle & accurate.

 Able to perform a specified action well & powerfully; likely to succeed because of sound reasoning or convincing evidence; possessing skills & qualities that create a likelihood of success; powerfully affecting the mind, senses, & emotions.

Able to withstand great force or pressure; not easily affected by hardship; not easily disturbed or upset; showing determination, self-control, and good judgement.

In a secure financial position having steadily high or rising prices offering security & advantage intense & firmly held; lasting & remaining warm despite all.

Pleasingly graceful & stylish. Pleasingly ingenious & simple!

Take me down to the river,

to cleanse my battered soul;

& bare my bones as the sinner,

to wear it off of me.

Take me down to the river,

as far as I can go;

until the water takes me,

& washes over me.

Take me down to the delta,

where muddy waters roll;

& winds deliver whispers,

to bring my Lord with me…

The hours I keep are of madness.

A frequent 4 a.m. rarely sleeps & never dreams.

There should be more,

but I can never remember when I awake.

I hardly speak to the people I know!

& rarely look at the ones that I don’t

but the whiskey helps;

& a cigarette is always good—for after.

I like to be numb because it’s more comfortable.

& I smoke a lot although its unaffordable! and troublesome

but the whiskey helps;

& a cigarette is always good—for cancer.

We grew up, or apart;

I fell in love.

A time passed…

nerves now the better judge;

but a closed mouth never gets fed.

Scared & safe;

a worn heart and troubled mind in the vagabond gust of the city.

“Rumble, young man, rumble”!

I keep a terrible schedule.

A gutting wrench tells of no mensch;

I could see what was happening when her attitude changed.

The worst is the confusion.

Blame is cowardly;

no one is innocent.

The selfless love the selfish in a sacrificial bid.

The purer it burns.

Those who were present were,

it has been some time now.

Communist Marxists. Socialist beggars. Liberal racists & spoiled conservatives; no sacrifice worth their own. Death and the governed; the way of the people is of revolution and revolt. Elitist spoils of war—America, the bastard sons of treason. Spain, France, the list goes on… Empire for sale; MURDER! To think they all failed for others to try—a miserable doctrine of arrogant indulgence.

…”Have you thought this out well”?

A peasant dies in the fields and I wait by his side for a proper burial—an eternity, most certainly. The weak farmer is a liar. The cost of business burdens the mule. Society cares none for the traveler, a yet paid debt to my family. We don’t control the circumstances of our lives, simply our reactions; even Jesus was killed. Logic does not fit the soul. A sentinel cries in key, five notes to the scale.

Who was it to name my father, and his father; and his, and furthermore? Dead eyes and a broken smile. A taste for scotch and the likes of intoxication. A woman perhaps, I should say, wailing from her chambers, Helen of Troy’s perfume. Love is an inauspicious task; the nomadic heart never sleeps, and the broken one bleeds. Look in the book—there’s a beauty in sex when it’s done right. It’s under the word. 

People have mistaken the truth for good. The devil watches from his window while children play God.

A million men march…I am no one’s nigger, or niggard for that matter; I know my home. Aligned borders of men pressing their commands. Eager intentions and committees of expertise; all agreed. Well-hidden fangs teethe in total war and expansionist lust—Rich, snarling wolverines. A tradesman woes the docile, easily won, runt of the litter. Strung along…strung along…a noose and quartered. The duke and his duchess join hands, a pretty penny and a royal bill; all at the everyday expense.

The comforts of home are no more than memories; a familiar scent or sense, I could say; the right touch can make any man feel at home. The emigrant class of a romantic few.

A sure sign of poverty are the strays; cats, dogs, and children.

“If they can sell it”.

The great betrayal is always the same…”the bank is broke”!

“So how much did they take”?

“All the potatoes and soap”.

Humbling notions of the ill-disciplined. A battle horn sounds in the distance—the stomping boots of the vanguard.

And what of Havana? 

Ranger Handbook & the Coast Guard—the oil is coming!

A last gesture of absolution.

tumblrbot asked: WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE INANIMATE OBJECT?

PINK MEAT.