Were they something like hers

I've forgotten what your lips feel like.
A memory that was burned into my essence for years has slipped away. I wouldn't even have noticed it was gone except for the dream. Not being able to reconstruct the feeling there was a pause and the improv dream players could not kiss. Its not that I dream of you or of you kisses but my dreams are precise and exact.
If it is a reoccurring dream, I am aware if it changes even the least bit. If it is something possible it must be realistic. If it is something from memory it must be accurate or it will not run smoothly. In the awareness that it is a dream I will change things to rectify the incongruity and rerun the scene or else wake up.
So I lay there as an observer, still dreaming, realizing the thing that was gone. Like a memory you became so use to never forgetting, you never noticed you forgot.

Words Fail

The words fall where the lips end

Tumbling down her front
Like ash from an absent minded smoker
Like food from the simple minded eater
There isn’t enough conviction
To force it from mind past lips
There isn’t enough meaning
To carry it from lips to ears
Watch. Her eyes will follow.
Downcast
In a vain attempt to understand
her words, lost but not forgotten.
Only I see it slipping free
dangling and breaking the thread
because I love her mouth
because I have been there
Sucking meaning from her
Acting as her translator
Keeping her
from wasted words

antiphony of cynicism and sentimentality

Time and Tide wait for no man.
They are too busy: softening or sharpening; destroying and creating; tailoring or uniforming. They take on environment, societies, the mind and sensibilities.
You know it’s true. The stream that ran by the house curves more. The swimming-hole shale bank becomes sandy. The arguments you had over philosophies less important. The vows you made from your sensibilities less resolved.
The rock-n-roll-wild-child into Eastern-philosophy and free love, now married, 3 kids, Christian and republican. The environmentalist-activist-actor-vegetarian doing quite well in the 9-5 meat flavored world. The crazy morbid poet no longer writes much (in ink or blood) wears colors works for the capitalists and has cultivated a healthy relationship.

Just used people being recycled.

We have all used people
but it's hardly ever the ones that accuse us of it. It's usually the grateful ones. The ones who don't care if they are being used because that is what they want you to do. Some are like that with everyone, but most unfold like flowers for a specific light. There is something about you, the situation, the moment. Something that draws them in. Opening them up to this form of relationship. It's not just the beautiful or powerful. It doesn’t only happen for the charismatic personalities or confidence artists.
I have used the hopeful. Those clingy ones you feel sorry for or placate their persistence with your presence. You never saw yourself as better till they insisted you were, you are, you must be. Aware or not eventually you will use these people.
Just as they are using you. Perhaps it would be better to think of it as borrowing each other.
We have all been used.
But when the borrowing goes to far. When the gods we have created no longer shine their blinding lights down on us. When the light dims and the warmth dissipated and we still stand there being borrowed but no longer open. Then we feel the use. Then we call it being used. We accuse them when it was up to us from the start. They did not jump up on that pedestal they did not force us to open to them. No one has so much power that we do not still make the choice.
So I cannot say I have been used in that sense. Every time I have been borrowed I have borrowed too. I could never blame someone. I have never cried out in anger that I was being used. And with time softening it all I cannot even remember if I ever felt used by the time the end came. It was always a choice. It was always mutual abuse of borrowing power. When it is that type of relationship, you need each other. What are the faithful without their god? What is a god without their faithful?

Fascinating Road Blocks

[Federal Register: December 16, 2005 (Volume 70, Number 241)]
[Rules and Regulations]
[Page 74649-74652]
SUMMARY: These regulations reflect and implement amendments to the
Social Security Act (the Act) made by part of the Intelligence Reform
and Terrorism Prevention Act of 2004 (IRTPA). Section 7213(a)(1)(A) of
the IRTPA requires that we limit individuals to three replacement SSN
cards per year and ten replacement SSN cards during a lifetime. The
provision permits us to allow for reasonable exceptions from these
limits on a case-by-case basis in compelling circumstances.

Only 10 a lifetime? I have been through at least 2 cards already. Now I guard it with my life. "They say you shouldnt carry your Social Security card with you... but...

Old regulations permit United States citizens and nonimmigrant aliens from Canada, Bermuda and Mexico to enter the United States from certain Western Hemisphere countries without presenting a passport.
It use to be just a drivers license.

On December 17, 2004, the President signed the Intelligence Reform and Terrorism Prevention Act of 2004 (IRTPA). Section 7209 of this statute limits the Secretaries' discretion to waive or to make exceptions to the passport requirements under the INA and expressly provides that, by January 1, 2008, United States citizens and nonimmigrant aliens may enter the United States only with passports or such alternatives as the Secretary of Homeland Security may designate as satisfactorily establishing identity and citizenship.

what do you wanna bet that a drivers license and a Social Security card is "satisfactorily establishing identity and citizenship"

Geeknessess

I can't really blame him. I've been sitting here reading with the TV on.
But he has crossed a line. I know I was ignoring him and him being on the computer is totally myfault, but then he gets a call fromone of his old friends (now a doctor)sohe is playing guild wars(an on line game) while on his cell phone.
reminded me of True love is but a +2 broadsword away:
That is just crossing a line.
Me, on the other hand, I'm just using the wireless lap top to bitch about it...while watching TV.
No, that's not geeky at all.

Guess which one is mine

Soul Exchange

The sound of fog

In the jungle of white noise
the street lights dissipate like softly brushed cymbals of a jazzy quartet and I follow tail lights swirling up golden leaves before me in distant heavy rhythms closing in between shadows and lit paths. Breathing deep the stillness breaking the absence of silence
as my breath hangs
like a blue note
in the air.

Its not that I have nothing to say

I've just been busy

doing stuff

Nemesis wanted

Today's useless fact

Where did the peace sign originate?

The peace sign: U.S. President Richard Nixon used the 'victory sign' (a hand gesture in which the first and second fingers are raised and parted, whilst the remaining fingers are clenched) during the Vietnam War to connotate victory, an act which became one of his best-known trademarks. The victory sign was appropriated by the anti-war protesters as a peace gesture, thus becoming the 'peace sign.'

The peace symbol: The peace symbol was designed and completed February 21, 1958 by Gerald Holtom, a commercial designer and artist in Britain. He had been commissioned by the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament to design a symbol for use at an Easter march to Canterbury Cathedral in protest against the Atomic Weapons Research Establishment at Aldermaston in England.

The symbol itself is a combination of the semaphore signals for the letters "N" and "D", standing for Nuclear Disarmament. In semaphore the letter "N" is formed by a person holding two flags in an upside-down "V", and the letter "D" is formed by holding one flag pointed straight up and the other pointed straight down. These two signals imposed over each other form the shape of the peace symbol. In the original design the lines widened at the edge of the circle.

A conscientious objector who had worked on a farm in Norfolk during the Second World War, Holtom later wrote to Hugh Brock, editor of Peace News, explaining the genesis of his idea in greater depth: "I was in despair. Deep despair. I drew myself: the representative of an individual in despair, with hands palm outstretched outwards and downwards in the manner of Goya’s peasant before the firing squad. I formalized the drawing into a line and put a circle round it."

The fact that symbol resembles a bird's foot in a circle gave rise to alternative interpretations, ranging from plain mockery of "crow's foot" and "American Chicken" (a right wing hint that peace is for cowards) to a number of occult meanings from conspiracy theorists, since a crow or a raven is a gloomy bird in various mythologies.

The far-right John Birch Society has referred to it as a "broken cross" – accusing the peace movement of repudiating Christ. It has also been called a relative of the Nazi swastika – or the rune algiz inverted, said to mean "hidden danger". It resembles the rune calc.

Baptism of Tears on their ears

When I was young and scared
Young enough to remember but speech impaired
You were stuffed and they were blue
They were my first choice for tissue.

The loud noises chased us up the stairs
We hid, flinching further into the cubbyhole with each flare
I hugged you crying leaving you streaked with moist tracks
And you made me laugh as you shook, showering me back.

The wracking howl of brokenhearted grief was never meant to share
But you would pace back as I gulped for air
the silkiness of an offered ear as you leaned your head
was like cool water on eyes cried and rubbed so red.

I sat there crying for you and found myself tear to ear
Tears for you before you go, christened you here
The moment, how ever accidental it may be,
Reminded, and will always remind me
How softly every ear was bent
How helpfully every ear was lent