Songs that float in the air tonight.

You and me - life house

what day is it
and in what month
this clock never seemed so alive
I can't keep up
and I can't back down
I've been losing so much time

cause it's you and me and all of the people
with nothing to do
nothing to lose
and it's you and me and all of the people
and I don't know why
I can't keep my eyes off of you

all of the things that I want to say
just aren't coming out right
I'm tripping inwards
you got my head spinning
I don't know where to go from here

cause it's you and me and all of the people
with nothing to do
nothing to prove
and it's you and me and all of the people
and I don't know why
I can't keep my eyes off of you

there's something about you now
I can't quite figure out
everything she does is beautiful
everything she does is right

you and me and all of the people
with nothing to do
nothing to lose
and it's you and me and all of the people
and I don't know why
I can't keep my eyes off of you

you and me and all of the people
with nothing to do
nothing to prove
and it's you and me and all of the people
and I don't know why
I can't keep my eyes off of you

what day is it
and in what month
this clock never seemed so alive

Old Dirt Hill - Dave Matthews Band

Can't catch me ride my bike down the old dirt hill,
First time without my training wheels.
First time I kissed you I lost my legs,
Bring that beat back to me again.
I hear scream and shout out loud of innocence
And days when all we did would never end.

Smoking under the railroad bridge
I used to ride my bike down that old dirt hill
The first time I kissed you I lost my legs
Bring that beat back to me again
I hear scream and shout out loud of innocence
Days when all we did would never end

Screaming down that old dirt hill

Bring that beat back to me again

She stole __
That's when the days I remember seem so far away

That's just a kid. That's what I miss. Just a kid.
That's what I miss.

Bring that beat back to me again [3x]
First time all with good, good friends.

(Can't catch me, can't catch me)
Bring that beat back to me again [4x]

An officer, a gentleman , a fraud

A man should know his place...

a man should know his betters...

a man should take responsibility for his words and actions...

a man should defend his lady's honor...

a man should not forget his debts...

a man should be slow to anger...

a man should conduct himself with honour and dignity...

A false knight... under all this shining armour.

As tainted as those he crusades against.

I am sorry i've failed you all ... especially you.

A flag is lowered.

Today was my last day at the Hive.

Such a simple simple statement. Such a profound milestone.

The end of an era... the beginning of an age...

I remember starting here 2 years ago, arriving 30 mins early and sitting in the car waiting.

The first office bbq, where my phone rang just as the big boss's speech ended.

This was / is the birthplace of suit, this is how Bob turned into German Bob and how I purchased my first property.

Thank you lord for my time in Hive and all those within.

From the bottom of my heart.

Thank you

The silence of erggg

Its late, I'm tired and about to conk off.

Something stirs inside and I'm hoping that writing about it will calm it.

But alas, even as these words flow, the stirring continues.

Waning silence has been met with the refuge of cold hard logic.

And as smaller but yet more important countdowns click to the beat of the impending drum,

a small but persistent voice asks who bloody cares?

As men fight for relevance and honor, and worlds shift on axis, my banner is lowered from my comfort zone.

Pats on the back and 3 cheers all around fill the growing void, for moments of a moment the colours return... and strangely too.

Heart red streaked and flashed with gray. Vege green with glimmers of gunmetal steel.

No poetry tonight... this is imagery overload... this is too much black beret... this is errrrrggggg

Jesus Walk...

Beautiful words from an Angry man.

J Ivy, these words rock.

We are all here for a reason on a particular path
You don't need a curriculum to know that you are part of the math
Cats think I'm delirious but I'm so damn serious
That's why I expose my soul to the globe,
the world I'm trynna make it better for these little boys and girls
I'm not just another individual

My spirit is a part of this, thats why I get spiritual
But I get my hymns from him
So it's not me, it's he thats lyrical

I'm not a miracle
I'm a heaven-sent instrument
My rythmatic regiment navigates melodic notes for your soul and your mental
Thats why I'm instrumental

Vibrations is what I'm into
Yeah I need my loot by rent day
But that ain't what gives me the heart of Kunte Kinte

I'm tryin to give us, us free like Cinque
I can't stop That's why I'm hot

Determination, dedication, motivation
I'm talking to you of my many inspirations
When I say I can't let you or self down
If I were on the highest cliff on the highest riff
And you slipped off the side and clenched on to your life in my grip
I would never, ever, let you down

And when these words are found
Let it be known that God's penmanship has been signed in the language called love

Thats why my breath is felt by the deaf
And why my words are heard and confined to the ears of the blind
I, too, dream in color, and in rhyme
So I guess I'm one of a kind in a full house
Cause whenever I open my heart, my soul, or my mouth
A touch of God rains out.

The audience of one

A friend asked me this morning why I shrouded my writings in crypitisms.

It makes it hard to understand! Complained the avid reader.

Another questioned the very core of Semper Fi based on the words of shadows.

Sometimes you don't need the story full. To know the endings, or the last notes of the song...

Perhaps one day soon, this surge of verse and lyrics will cease as it has once before.

And these halls will echo and reverberate no more.

And then I shall my audience bore,

of my lunches, dinners and idle chitchat.

Enjoy my vagueness whilst it lasts, as seasons ebb and flows erode.

songs may shift as seasons do. Like lunar tides over the waves.

So the short answer?

Yes I'm vague.

But I enjoy the melodrama.

And sometimes at least so do you all.

Ritz...

Ever wake up one morning and realize that you been surviving on Ritz?

I believe Eddie Murphy said it best

If you're starving and somebody
throw you a cracker,
               
you gonna be like this:
             
"Goddamn, that's the best cracker
I ever ate in my life!
                 
"That ain't no regular cracker, was it?
What was that, a Saltine?
              
"Goddamn, that was delicious.
              
"That wasn't no Saltine. That was...
That was a Ritz. That wasn't a Ritz?
              
"God, that was the best cracker
I ever ate in my life.
              
"Can I have another one, please?
Please, one more."

I need steak...

Not just any steak mind you. It has to be the right cut, with the right grain & marbling done just tha perfect medium rare. And don't even get me started on the perfect sauce for it.

Just get started on the steak, we'll worry about the sauce later.

*Goes off to the kitchen to hunt for a steak*

The market by the wall

Morning drifts into my dream, and like a flower blooming expands my mind into consciousness.

Eyes open and gaze on the clock and ... Oh nooooo!!!!

I've overslept!

Today was market day, it was suppose to my last for a while.

Hastily rushing out of the door, I made my way there (without speeding of course).

There was still time no? Time to catch the magic?

As I pulled into the side lane, I spied the colored signs, yellow and blue announcing the festivities.

A sigh of relief, the sun was shining yet the air was cool, a perfect day for the market.

This is one of the rare gateways where the wall of reality and memories thin for me. And I try not to visit too often lest the magic grow thin.

I trounce through the stalls one by one as a hunter would , unsure what i would find, but yet cautious to hide my delight whenever i spotted something that interest me lest the storekeeper raise the prices.

Crystal glasses to match the set that came from another market? Bartered for a shower of silver.

An ancient hammer revived with a hand polished wooden handle? Bought for a flake of blue.

And as I stooped to investigate a particularly pretty set of salt and pepper shakers, something caught my eye. A medallion of Sir Stamford... here? Amongst these things? How odd indeed! And as I stood to leave the stall, I looked at the lonely metal disc sitting amongst the other shiny items. The first knight errant of my land should not have to endure this, thought I as I picked the weighty disc up. A bargain is stuck for 3 gold nuggets and Sir Stamford makes his way to my pocket.

So the adventure continued,

Hand blown glass decanter for port complete with glasses and a kettle seemingly hawn from a block of ice in exchange for a flash of orange fire from my hands.

A dish rack I was keenly observing was given to me for the price of a smile.

And all around the cheerful throb of the market can beheard, dogs chatting with each other as they walk their owners through the shops. A young boy bartering with an old man for a trinket, Pavarotti and the Beatles float through the air, melding into a strange duet of sorts.

And just round the corner I can still almost see, friends from long ago wave back at me.
And looking on this market ground, amongst the cries of shillings? No, pounds!
Crystalline memories of days gone by, change hands to find surprised,
the smile on the face of owners new, at a treasure now possessed.

Man I love this market

Random thoughts of the passing train

For those of us familiar with the daily commute to the

My mind's caliber lately is like that of the of the just woken, or end of day work dulled worker / student.

With the exception of the duels with the moon , the days seem to just be slowing drumming away.

And still the count down continues... departure imminent...

I need to organize, flights, movers, housing, communications, bills, taxes, budgets.

*breathes*

Furniture, car moving, a fridge, packing, clothes, cash flow... the list goes on.

Funny, but the last time I did this, I was so much more gung ho about it.

Now, I don't feel like saying good byes.

Friends, as much as I enjoyed tonight's farewell for JL.

There's something so... final and dramatic about such events, followed by the

The climatic anti-climax if you will. As a month or 2 later,

the inevitability of life moves on and names like JL, MC and KC become, simply that, just names of the dearly departed.

You see my friends, I've done it all before, to return 3 years later to... well, I believe most of you will recognize your parts in the new friendscape i've built in the last 2 years.

So whilst I'd like to think its not goodbye and more as as see you later.

This time, perhaps I'd rather fade into night sooner and on my own terms, rather then to disappoint or be disappointed.

Cynical i know it sounds, but my friends, prove me wrong.

Please do.

Stardust

A story retold, even if a little differently.

A man smiles. Finding himself once again lost in the tale.

A companion's laughter. Decent conversation over a meal.

Clouds breaking to see the moon.

Of golden discs and American tails.

The ebbing tide of time stills, for shining moments.

And infinity is measured in the verse of a song.

Damned Insomnia ... again

I'm exhausted... I truly am

Drained is a better word for tonight.

yet sleep eludes me... again...

Things that float in my mind tonight.

Boats, flows, fires.

No beds awaiting.

That scent.

Foody food.

Tofu recipes

The end of eras

The avatar of ego

The strength I need.

The art of scimitar fighting (The blade wounds, the daggers kill)

Weaknesses

Pride

I am... Caravaggio

Moving orders

The silence of the cafe is shattered as Boots drags the unconscious poet in.

Suit looks up from his vigil and stares hard and says "What the hell happened to him?"

"Fool boy got a little brave" grunted Boots as he peeled the ruined armor off the limp figure.

"Borrowed my gear and went out all by himself"

Suit gets up and strides across the room to examine his friend, making sure he was alright, only pausing at the large injury on the right shoulder.

"I see you taught him the lance" he comments quietly as he moved on to inspect the armor.

"He took it straight in the chest!" exclaimed Suit as he turned furiously on Boots, "Did you not teach him to protect himself?"

"I tried to! He wouldn't take it on! Said his magic would protect him, said that a knight didn't need armor. I had to force him to put the thing on!"

"I see... that boy, he always had some strange ideas" said Suit as he reigned in his anger. "You got involved too?" he asked softly as he noticed that Boots too was bleeding from a multitude of small wounds himself.

"Someone had to make sure he got back in one piece." Shrugged the weary soldier.

"He did know didn't he?" asked Suit as he turned away from the other men to hide is own fatigue.

"Know what?"

"That lances shatter on impact?"

"I'm sure he did, but he choose it nevertheless. I don't believe what a fool he was... is...erggg."

Suit pauses and turns, staring the soldier straight in the eyes.

"Were you not like that too when I found you out there and brought you here?"

Suit turns away again and stares out at the crossroads,

"Tend to your wounds and patch the boy up, we have our orders. We march at dawn"


epilogue

On a distant hill far away,

where the remains of a shattered lance lie.

Time and tide do walk on by.

But in the cold and early morn,

Flutters a tree, a fern, a frond?

No, a flower golden like the blazing sun.

Rises up for tomorrow's song.

Fortune favours the bold

Tugging on the borrowed armor, chaffing yet so familiar,the poet surveys the scene.

Not quite what he imagined he admits to himself, even as he recalls the words of his suited friend no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy.

Then, a glint catches his eye and he realizes that trophy is within reach.

Now or never he thinks as he kicks the stallion into a charge, its time to end this.

Like a silver bolt the cavalier streaks, plowing through the air.

As the warhorse pounds the distance away, the poet weaves his tune, filling the air with the power of his magic.

Wooden lance turns into lightning, imbued with power, with mystery with song.

Closing his eyes at the final moment, he waits for the impact.

silence...silence...silence

where did it go?

And then, the deafening roar of the lance shattering...

the sensation of flying through the air...

then... darkness.

3rd one's a charm

A thought just occurred to me. I think I missed the boat.

Cafe at Crossroads

A desk jockey sits at a cafe, over looking a cross road, sipping his wine, savoring the aroma.

A warrior steps in from the dusty road, and casts a glance across the place.

Eyes meet, a nod is shared, the table is joined.

Cold beer and vintage wine they share, a quiet disdane and yet grudging respect for each other, in silence they sit, watching the cross roads.

A man wearing a jumper coloured like a bumblebee walks in looking lost, not a table he belongs to, the salary man stares on at the road, and with a slight flick of his wrist gestures.

The warrior stares with a steely gaze, but pushes a chair out with his boot and grunts to desk jockey, "a poet i betcha".

The officeman just smiles and without taking his eyes off the dusty trail answers "i think he needs a scotch"

The poet sits down and thanks the men for the seat, and then chatteringly begins to talk about his journey there, the other 2 sit quietly letting the words wash about them.

And they watch the road.

An odder trio you might never see. Sitting in a cafe, a pub, a bar overlooking the crossroads.

The day wears on and sunsets yonder, dinner is ordered and almost in one voice "Steak, medium rare"

The night wears on and still they chat in the night breeze, of war, of pain, of joy, of life.

suddenly, stillness falls upon the night, and the full moon breaks through the cloud cover.

As one they rise and look to the road.

Silent partings washed in silver, the men walk on.

The table is empty except for 3 shining bands.

Of silver beaten, imperfect beauty.
Of darkness banded, of strength embodied.
Of Light captured, in infinite splendor.

Mr Wiscom

Mr Wiscom sits on the floor,

The little red light flickers weakly, like an imagined heartbeat.

I remember...

Phone calls - hours long, with a phone bought at an indian discount shop. $5? $10? I don't remember.

It had the shortest cord, and the only working socket was in the living room.

The only air conditioning was in the bed room.

There were but 2 chairs in the house, both were too tall to sit and use the phone.

a nsf recruit got $450 a month.

an honours graduate in engineering got $450 a month.

The phone bill was about $300

There was a reserve, present but untouchable, in australian dollars, in american dollars, just in case... just in case.

So with sleight of hand and quip of mouth, Mr Wiscom was claimed.

And served like a loyal manservant he did. The darkest secrets, the brightest hopes...

Stowed away and homeward bound, he served again, watching every meal catching every word.

And now as the red light flickers, flickers, dies...

I remember.

Safe Arrivals

I put the phone down and return to work.

Some thing lacking in that voice, like fatigue had stretched it beyond tensile limits.

I've worried and offered help, but understandly some battles are meant to be fought alone.

It is like watching a rally car speed into one of those mountain tunnels in the swiss alps.

Tyres squealing and engine roaring, fighting to stay in the lanes even before it reaches the tunnel entrance.

And then ZOOM!!! as it speeds past the crowd, swallowed by the inky blackness of the moutain pass (that's my melodrama for you, the alp tunnels are actually very well lit in an orange glow, and rally cars NEVER drive in there)

Now, there is nothing to do but sit at the other end of the tunnel and wait, with hope that the car will victoriously emerge.

A moroccan wonder bar

I shifted through my mind,

wondering who to bring along to my good bye to this place.

Names and faces flashed past, as would their excuses,

too busy, too tired, still working, too reserved, too... well too many too-s!

And then the ball landed on an unlikely candidate...

The offer was accepted and yay we went.

And as i stepped in, the sight, sounds and smells welcome me like an old friend.

The kind, moody and haggish matron of the place greets me like she would remember me.

I return the favour.

no menu? asks my companion, I just smiled as I remember when i too asked that very same question.

The dishes arrive and I behold the look of wonderment in the eyes of my guest.

The colours! The textures!

And as she comps down on the morsels that I once dreamed about so far away.

I smiled again.

The moroccan soup bar claims another convert.

So...friggin...happy

Its been a hell of a day, but I wanted to cheer one more person up.

After hunting for an eyepatch (i found none) i set off with with the payload.

omochi time!

then as i was leaving,

a present?

for me?

Elegant scrawl on envelope - Smile breaks out.

Bye byes are said and as I leave.

The envelope is opened... and suddenly I'm grinning so hard it could break diamonds.

In fact, i'm still smiling.

The r is for real... so very real.

Darkness falls

The day started off as normal,

The alarm clock buzzed and i silenced it again and again (I have adaptive snooze on it see)

then the phone rang...

a cry for help... I paused my day.

I drove, i counselled, I prayed.

The story unfolded, betrayal upon betrayal. Hearts bleed and tears flow.

Anger rises and seeks vengence... the quiet voice calms it down.

The wounds are tended but i feel like a battle field medic, band aids over bullet holes I apply.

The little battler struggles to her feet and pushes on. I pray for strength over her.

My afternoon flows on, the story resonating over and over...

Words start appearing, disrespect, betrayal, cowardance.

Anger builds.

I pick up the phone, a last lifeline i will cast.

I am trying very hard to control my voice now,

i've heard what's happened and i want to to terrible things to make you hurt.

I only have one question, "why did you make the girl cry?"

retreat on the other end of the phone, words rage in the ether... COWARD!

My hands shake with rage as i control not to slam the phone down.

I sit in stunned silence as rage so familiar thunders within me.

This was the last straw,

excommunication,

it is done.

God is good!

There is no doubt!

See what he tells me tonight!

My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest

Exodus 33:14

tremble oh city of adelaide.

The glory of the almighty comes with Carravaggio.

A fool by any other name

Well folks,

I'm drained from healthy healthy exercise, its monday tomorrow and i need sleep, but it seems we all are these days no?

I wanted to insert a quote here, i just can't remember it, something from conrad's heart of darkness... something about the inevitability of things.

But its slipped away from my grasp like a slippery eel under the waves.

So here's something more jovial instead!


I have an idea that the phrase "weaker sex" was coined by some woman to disarm some man she was preparing to overwhelm. ~Ogden Nash

and for the expression that my lady readers now have on their faces.

The women exchanged the kind of glance women use when no knife is handy. ~Ellery Queen

it was a good weekend, filled with progress and sunlight, bringing strength and vision.

if only all of life's obstacles could be solved by boxes with airholes in them.

in the mean time, the turbo spools and the countdown begins.

Damned Insomnia

Lack of sleep dulls the mind.

And this carravaggio is one dull carrot right now.


Things of import to note down before I loose command of my england.

1) 2 Prophets have confirmed it, fruits of the spirit = salvation!
2) God Rocks!
3) Another time around the mountain..
4) words of the spirit (to be confirmed) its time for war.
5) Brothers in arms are placed by God.
6) midnight shopping - Bargain Appliances!
7) The Korean initiative.

A song for the night

A song that perhaps, is well matched to my own timbre.

Just a sweet tune for the midnight moon

when amongst the darkness looms,

mingled memories of tears and smiles,

of frowns and sweetness all around.

frayed tempers and minds alike,

these memories flit into the night.

to entwine into the gentle breeze,

of songs and music that speak the soul.

You were always on my mind

Maybe I didn't love you
Quite as often as I could have
Maybe I didn't treat you
Quite as good as I should have
If I made you feel second best
Girl I'm sorry I was blind

You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind

Maybe I didn't hold you
All those lonely, lonely times
And I guess I never told you
I'm so happy that you're mine
Little things I should have said and done
I just never took the time

You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind

Tell me, tell me that your
Sweet love hasn't died
And give me
Give me one more chance
To keep you satisfied
satisfied

Little things I should have
Said and done
I just never took the time

You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind....

Dinner for one

Yes, I admit it, I hate being alone in a restaurant.

I dread the concept of walking in and asking for a table for one at dinner time.

Sure I do it for lunches during a work day, watch the occasional movie myself or even go shopping myself sometimes.

but dinner alone in a restaurant? That is loneliness.

Work is work only when it works

3 weeks to finishing up at work.

You'd think that as the only person running a bunch of heavy industrial jobs easily worth a million dollars a month they'd be keen to start me downloading all my work and head knowledge to someone else.

Nope, nothing, nada, zip, no one to take my work. Oh well, it doesn't matter, I can only do my best. And come the end of the month, its not my problem any more.

On to other things. *Clicks to start another post*

Stardust!

Stardust is coming! stardust is coming!

I'm trying hard not to get excited, but but... I am!

I long to go see it, to see that picture novel that was thrust into my unwilling hands those years ago come alive on the big screen.

I'd ask someone to join me, but who to bestow such an honor?

I'm... singing?

Folks, Ever caught urself in the middle of humming or singing, without even realizing?

Well, that's what i just caught myself doing.

Its a ditty I haven't sung in ages, and one that i had hoped would be received better, whether or not the performance was intended

There was a time when I could captivate and entrance my audience with my flawed but earnest performances.

Nowadays, i can't even lift an eyebrow of a single patron.

Has my song been lost in the chaos of life? Or is my music just too dated for the people of this day and age?

To go where no Caravaggio has gone before!

The decision was made a few days ago, but I have tried to let my friends know in person (or at least on the phone) before I posted it up.

But I'm moving to Adelaide!

Whooo!

well.. small whoo anyhow.

I've taken up the job offer mentioned from posts past and have officially resigned from the Hive.

I will move from Melb the sometime late in the first week of October and move to Adelaide (exotic!) for a year before moving again to sydney.

My thoughts are... well I think its all happened so fast that I'm still in shock and living my day to day life as normal.

I need to get excited, i need to pack, to label, to buy new stuff, to plan.

I've gotten soft these last 2 years.

Its time to get moving.