Fleet Freeriding.

Flying fleet of a Freeriding
Wave
continuous motion
our solution.

swirling, Falling

As the hipster
burning Sun man
pierces its crimson
promise
Reflecting in the grey-eyed dog
ol' Master we are not
in it for now
But in IT for the long haul.

Breathe Life Smoke.

The road snakes its way past the farm house

Where the red barn

Brown cow

Pigs cat dog

Hauls the hay

And picks at the pantry

The old lady

Bent over

Sizzle, the eggs

Hard work

Bad back

As the smell of the cowboy

Spooks the lonesome traveler

As the black car

Smoke fumes

Escapes the pipe, coughing

The hitchhiking vagabond who doesn't believe

In you me them or god

Smokes his joint as the horse watches him

Black eyes

Stare.

And the sweat rolls off the labourer as the hobo

Hums and strums and licks

And spits at his harmonica

Everyone's watching

Through a window we call our eyes.

It's a slow day

Mist and moon

There's no time for thinking or waiting

The road snakes its way down

Horizon swallows it up

It doesn't matter

Where it goes

Promises kept unkept

And lies like the spider

This web beautiful

But traps unsuspectfully

Creatures.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Urban Bag of Bones

restrictions and constrictions
do this do that
no don’t and stop!
confusion sets in as I wander this asphalt jungle
clarity is stuck in that latte
and in that CEO

Politics is the new Hollywood
in things, fads, trends, fashion
Obama shirts à la Che
next to the Ramones
Let’s Go.

The World’s People is
One Big Dysfunctional family
Nobody will
pass the gravy
to thy neighbour.
Backstabbing, greedy, needy
Really?
But Dr. Phil said so.

unsaturated stained glass world
Don’t expect yet except this acceptance

We’re all bag of bones
Whatcha’ think your soul is?
Is it a rainbow
the miraculous
Grins, embrace, love,
faith or fate?
mine is honey
Positivism sticks
Maybe my soul’s crazy glue.

Rain torpedoes

I’ve been contemplating something in my head all day (where else would I contemplate from? Puzzling) Bob Dylan says: « Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet. » Of course I am going to think that’s genius. It’s so honest. Think about it. Imagine a cold, rainy October morning. Downpours are followed by yet another one. The humongous rain drops fall from the sky like torpedoes, splattering on the pavement and your windshield, the wipers barely able to do their job. By the time you run inside to your office, you’re drenched and you discover your waterproof mascara isn’t so waterproof at all. In any case, the chances that more then one of your co-workers will comment on how much they hate this weather is high and probable. Right? Right. I’ll admit to being one of those, too often. Now reverse all the way back to your childhood; remember the days when rain was fun? I do. I remember one summer, a warm summer rain falling and making the air smell so clean…I put on my bathing suit and jumped on our trampoline, in the rain. Dangerous, but fun nonetheless. See, back then, without all the anxieties of adult life and the daily stress of work and responsibility, I FELT the rain. I remember being in the car and watching as the drops collected on my window, falling slowly but gaining momentum as it gathered force with the other droplets. An army of H2O.

Is it too much to ask for most of us to change mentality and return to a place where we can feel the rain, feel the wind, feel the snow and feel life?

Bob as an Enigma

The show was a Bob show; exactly what I wanted and expected. In today’s world, everyone expects something from everybody – act a certain way, talk a certain way. People expect you to be who they want you to be.

Bob has never really bought into that. I’ve always admired Bob’s ability to retain that air of nonchalance. Not ignorance, per say, but he does what he does not because it’s his duty but because he just wants to...man.

Back to the bright lights of the Never-Ending Tour: no chit-chat was needed between songs. As he once remarked, ‘what do you want me to say, really’. His voice was strong and still passionate. I only wished he would’ve picked up that guitar. What am I saying – he doesn’t have to play the guitar. The Evolution of Bob. Just accept it.

Some songs surprised me; ‘Nettie Moore’ made me incredibly emotional.

What Bob does, really, is dig down to the core of human existence. As I experience life, I understand Bob’s songs more (if that’s possible). I remark: ‘Ah, he’s always right, that Bobby.’

For any Dylanite, basking and revelling in the beautiful chance at seeing Bob in concert is a treat. Like ice cream.

Some days I believe that I understand his every word, or at least understand the underlying sentiment. But I’m sure Bob could prove that I’m all wrong. Enigmatic to the bone and I love it.

Dylan in Halifax

The countdown is on. 8 days until my very first Bob Dylan concert. Could be the first and the last but nevertheless, I am going to try as hard as I possible can to absolutely relish the show and seize in all of the sounds. I wonder what he will sing, silently hoping he’ll play my favourites. Will he even talk to the crowd? I’ve never had so many expectation yet none at all, all at once, for a performer.