A.G.E's Joint

A lonely existence Shut away  From hate From love From touch From life Only to ponder Clouds shutting away From you.

Punk and anger Go together, As it were A generations rebellion Against all that Had come before. Jello, Siouxie, and Serj Yelling and screaming Telling What is wrong With the world. Bob, Joan and Pete Still said it better With more passion And fewer decibels. But the rebellion Is a phase We all become parodies Satire doesn't effect change. Only time does. 

When I saw Music was the assignment, I thought about being lazy and recycling Fur Elise .  But when I opened it, I realized everybody had seen that story.  So, I went back and thought it might be better if I did something from scratch.  Like a true story from my days in the high school band... The bus pulled into the space across from the Municipal Auditorium about 9:45. Mr. Cox, the band director, stood up and told everybody to grab their gear and get into place as quickly as possible.  They wanted to keep the graduation rehearsal to ninety minutes so we would get back to the school in time for lunch.  It didn't matter to me.  I spent my lunch hour back in the band room with our pick up band.  It wasn't a bad arrangement.  There were six or seven of us that would jam to whatever we wanted to, from Broadway to Hendrix.  Anyway, I was a Junior and this I picked up my sax case and music folder and followed the herd down the left hand stair...

A blast from the past and it had caught her completely off guard.  He had looked so cute the last time, splayed on the bar floor, olives and orange slices in his hair. He thought she was going to be easy since he was the boss. The date and the job were left behind in a cloud of VW minibus smoke. Life went on. And now two years later he wanted to go down to see the Big Peach for New Years.   What did he really want? Kari still wasn’t sure she wanted to go.   New Year’s Eve had no appeal.   It was just a reason to get wasted, a celebration without a purpose. Oh, there was the pretense of faking atonement of the past. But hideous dates and worse hangovers made self improvement difficult.   No, impossible. It was a wasted day. A curly haired image smiled back as she brushed her hair.   Vanity never was her thing.   Aging was a beautiful process and gray was normal. Only a cut to even the ends was necessary. Why did other women obsess so much...

He came with feet of clay Another claiming he's the next coming Circumstances horrific Turning golden, Shining in the sun Trumpets and pipes Heralding triumph Celebrating victory Until... Like all the others Triumph is hollow Victory is false As he falls under the weight Of betrayal and lies But when faith dies, There is always hope Knowing He came with feet of clay

It's 9:37 and it the goal is fifteen minutes of free writing.  I should mention it is Sunday, January 13, 2013.  It's been a busy day with church, Falcon's gam (win!) and many more things. Sunday is when I usually get my group writing assignments.  If you read the blog, I am in several groups.  Groups that have helped me define who I am during a period that most people refer to as a midlife crisis.  It's funny, since I started writing seriously again about four years ago, with the original GBE group, I have managed to greatly improve the way that I communicate with my world. And I have met some amazing people, both here in the ether and "In Real Life". I guess you would call what I am going through a crisis.  But I don't.  I just call it a transition to a new phase.  I have left my job of fourteen years.  But I don't miss it much all.  And while it would be nice to get some money going in addition to my pension, I am beyond the need ...

Cell vibrates Uh, oh. Not again Yes Come down Still in one piece Only by The grace Of God

The tomatoes were beautiful. The piece itself was a rather stark, consisting of only a wicker basket on plank with dark gradient background. But, tomatoes were the color of arterial blood.   They looked like Easter eggs that had been set out for Good Friday.   The time and care the artist used in selecting the palette was obvious.   It was almost unworldly. In all her years studying and teaching painting, Mary had never seen an image quite like it.   And it was making her hungry.     Food, wine and celebration shouted from the walls of every building in the village.     Mangia!    Mangia! Invitations to dinner were shouted from house to house in that odd Tuscan accent.   Everyone was family and they embraced every night, unlike Upper Saddle River where other people looked like threats. Romantic warmth rose in her for the first time in years.   Too bad Michael wasn’t with her to enjoy it.   His meetings were ...

Walking along the Mall, Cherry blossoms falling In the brackish water. Pondering a world Flipped upside down Bad is good Ugliness is beauty Until the turning  Of the kaleidoscope. Life is a gift Riddle me this: So why do we Try to give it back?

Friday night Shot glass Cures fright. Predator Prey We are all One or the other. 

It was a rainy December Sunday and my head felt like it was going to explode. Traffic on 66 was as clogged worse than the County Court on Monday morning. They said that Freeway thing was going to solve it. Sure. All it did was line the pockets of Judge Doom's heirs. I should know,I testified at the probate. It had been a really strange weekend and I needed to get back to the office.  I had a report to write. My name is Valiant.  Eddie Valiant.  I have a reputation as a "fixer" for showbiz types. I'm called on to fix things that are embarrassing or illegal.  All the studios use them to some extent since actors can’t keep it in their pants or skirts as the case may be.   Some people call me the PI to the Toons, because of my involvement in the Acme case a few years back. I really don't like them much, but I seem to always be drawn in by them. That and they always pay on time.   I got the call Wednesday from one of the suits at Warner B...