Reflections

misconceptions
injections
deflections
eFFective Reflections
of the past
memories that didn't last

eFFective
Creative
Locomotive
Huge Thoughts that last

Spirits
merits
dignity
morals of a mast

read
visualize
absorb
the Ride is fast...

inscriptions
descriptions
subscriptions
prescriptions
and a loud mouth Ass...

misperceptions are Vast
spirits build the mast
the doors of perception
are made of glass

ReFlections of the past
The ride is fast
plan the future,
it soon becomes the past
Make your memories last...
_________________

the wRiders ride,
rides an epic format
poetics form a doormat

an entry to the mind
to see what one can find.

Theory's of the haves;
and the have nots.
Why the haves; have
and the have nots; have not

escape thru whiskey shots
dead men on army cots
dynamically changing plots
what have ya got?

actually quite a lot

a drunkards ride
a jekyll and hyde
deep inside
thoughts abide
memories subside

a premonition
of a simple cognition
a riders submission
of a parody tribute rendition:

________________________

drunks in the streets roamin'
Fat Cats in heat, sun gloaming
Rabid Dogs caged all over the city
body of his brother rotting in the winter ground
he was run out of town
went down south and crossed the border
left his life, back in Boulder
back there, alone to smolder
one morning he awoke a little older
a strange voice moaning inside him
blood oozed from his nose to his chin
W A K E u p...you can't remember who it was
IS everybody in, the ceremony is about to begin
this dream is just beginning
this is the End (of sinning)

drinks half full
in a dirty sink
cigarette butts
float to the surface
i woke up nervous

a ringing in my ear
overwhelming fear
nerves were shot
what have I got?

a telephone rings
more bad things
a jug of wine, fit for a king
write another linguistic string
hurry,
before another mood swing

So, I woke up this morning
And got myself a beer
knew coffee couldn't kill the fear
why have the jitters
and deal with all the critters
no ones here,
just us quitters

supplies are low
where do you go?
to the basement
down below
deep in cement
the alcohol well.
1/2 way to Hell

lock & load the Doors
unplug the phone
another day to drink and roam
into this place i call it home
another day of whiskey shots
will suspend all my thoughts
turn up the stereo; all 200 watts
erase all my wisdom
this is my prison

unable to afford to think
barely can hold onto my drink
a ravaged soul
guaranteed not to get old

inherited disorder?
my thoughts out of order
attention deficit disorder?
maybe its a bipolar disorder
Can I reorder?

a party in my mind
probably the worse kind
i go on trips
to see what i can find
all of my thoughts
are out of align

the higher i go
the less i know
the highs are lower
recovery is slower

chase that feeling
that use to be nice
watch the vodka
melt the ice

another line
across the mirror
make that feeling
a little nearer

further away
i tend to stray
every day
mental decay

i'm goin' further south of the border
find a waitress
and put in my order
find some chaos, create disorder

down the hall,
on the wall,
a Morrison poster
a great toaster
a rockin' roller coaster
a genius poetic roaster

Often misunderstood
went too early,
knew he would
knew he could
but, there he stood

in the hall
on the wall
on a poster
still a rockin' roller
his lyrics still solar

had a vision of moral unjust
threw my drink down in disgust
powerful and robust
ideas to combust
a desire of must
a white pine blister rust
no longer cussed
Time to readjust.

A rider on a whim
i knew it was him
he said he was goin' down south of the border
away from the chaos and the disorder

the hotel was green
at least in my dream
snakes along the wooden sidewalk
if ya listened carefully, they would talk
They knew it was him

he talks to me as a rider
a rider standing by the door
back from a 34 year tour
a rider who has been here before
a rider who wants more

I knew it was him
I felt his rapport
his presence you could not ignore
words of implore
words of yore

on a whim
I asked him:
"are you Jim?"
I felt the phantom limb
of a solider
appearing grim
and much older

slight smolder
cold shoulder
not to molder
not to quit
this guy still had
all his wit

his mind was powerful
as before
standing there
against the door,
a simple metaphor

his answer was indirect
what was i to expect
his thoughts I could detect
a message to connect
an idea to project:

"in the End, its the message that you send"
was all he said,
his thoughts I was fed
I knew right then,
he wasn't really dead~

obsessed by Him
NO, i don't think so
i go with the flow
i go with the show
i go with what i know

i believe its him
the power of his music
the power of his lyrics
the power to come back thru
from the other side
come back for another ride
to break back thru
from the other side
and join this ride
i believe he's back

obsessed by him
no, i don't think so
How do i know?
He told me so~!
________________________

a magical, mystical ride
to the mystical, magical side
from pillar to post
the host is a ghost~!