revrannulf

being myself the best way I can

Archive for the month “April, 2012”

An Ultimate Togetherness

Spending the last few days in thought…

about dying.

Thinking about the death

of those who showed me the way…

Considering the rare gift of

being in the right place

at the right time,

has led me to deep sadness,

thankful joy,

the silent mystic crossroads,

and the clarity of perception

that only comes with

facing the certainty

that all of us

everyone

will have someday

caused someone else

to find themselves in the past perfect act of

having spent their last few days in thought.

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Re-Learning Civility

For those of you who know me,

it shouldn’t come as a surprise;

I am a Liberal.

There.  I said it!!

I’m not shy about it;

though I am just a little proud.

To earn that pride and remain just a bit shy…

I pledge the following;

I will be as respectful of your viewpoint as I’m allowed.

I will remember that I have a right to speak

and a duty to listen.

I may not always be successful in my rights or duties.

I might even fail.

But I’d love it if you’d join me…

on the journey toward re-learning civility.

No matter your politics,

religion or lack thereof,

gender identity,

dog vs. cat preference,

skin color,

language group,

immigration status,

and irrespective of your choice about briefs,  boxers, bikinis and beyond…

Can we re-learn civility together…

Please?

4/20

It may be 4/20

but I haven’t

and I won’t…

That’s not judgment

for those who do.

It’s just the simple truth…

I don’t.

Just Wondering

Some days slip on by…

The thoughts you might have thought

have quietly gone past; why?

Did you sleep away the day

in a bed so soft you couldn’t

get up and go out

and fight the urge to ‘wouldn’t’?

Did the dither and the bother

of the mother or the father

keep your mind from settling into

the things you’d hoped you’d go through

only to discover

there were no more ways to cover

the laziness and sloth

that birthed the dreams all soft

then fuzzy nightmares frightening

as you’ve slipped beyond enlightening

to review the coming morning

with new hopes and plans a’borning?!

Just wondering…

If Dr Seuss owned too many guitars…

If I can only play one guitar at a time…

 why do I have more than one – and does it rhyme?

 Sometimes a Strat cluck is the sound that’ll do.

 Sometimes a Taylor or Martin rings true.

 There are seasons when Hamer’s the axe for which I yearn.

 And, sometimes an ol’ Tele is so hot it burns.

 Some days a PRS is the all-round best 6-string.

 On some days a Collings will make my heart sing.

 Perhaps it’s a mando or dulcimer type of day,

 or mayhap a lap-steel or resonator is the best way – to say…

 Playing guitar is a good thing for me –

 And, still I don’t yet own 33…

Canned Peaches

I can smell fresh peaches, the cooker’s heatin’ up

Steam shrouds the kitchen as my mother fills a cup

Sugar hits the boilin’ water, syrup turns light gold

Tools are all scalded, the crew’s ready to go

 

It might be green beans, other times it’s corn

Ready up the pickles, ‘maters red on the farm

Nibblin’ carrots ‘n’ berries on hot and sultry days

Didn’t much like turnips but zucchini seemed OK

 

Dad liked somethin’ new, we were never sure

If he ate it ‘n’ didn’t die, we’d usually try the cure

We learned we could take the tiger by the tail

From pickled peppers, brussel sprouts, cabbages and kale

 

One day my parents said, we’re gonna can some beef

We were goggle-eyed, confused, lost in unbelief

Fall days of campin’, Mother’d cook us up a mess…

Canned beef ‘n’ egg noodles, might’ve been the best.

 

Cannin’ up the garden in the old ball-mason jars

Look ahead to winter and the north wind’s wars

The cold’ll try to beat us and the snow’ll hide the stars

We’ll be eatin’ canned peaches, tellin’ lies and swappin’ yarns

Father of Loud

Four twelves in each stacked cab

a hundred watts of EL34 power glowin’ red in each hot head

my favorite axe in hand

ready to tear the curtain from the sky…

Hear a threat in the background hiss as I

prepare for the first crashing chord

hitting the strings with a windmilled medium pick and

rock the world…

The Father of Loud has passed on

only to leave this plane of ashes and dust…

Into whatever eternity Jim Marshall may have entered

may his passion, creativity, and genius

rock the heavens!

Split Pea Soup and Ham

Having been given a hambone with a lot of meat still on it

and having searched the cupboards only to find

dried split peas, an onion, and seasonings

an endeavor will be undertaken to create a meal of comfort…

Steaming hot split pea soup and ham

a loaf of whole wheat bread, freshly emerged from the oven

a bottle of rough Italian red waiting to fill our glasses

shared while holding hands with my lover/wife…

Who says there isn’t hope in our world?!

Bill Withers’ Guitar

I watched Bill Withers’ old guitar

gather dust at Tamarack

I wondered why a dreamer/poet

would ever turn his back

On a life of creativity

making rhymes and songs

Only later to find out

the man had suffered many wrongs

A D35 from Martin

sits alone behind the glass

Made me wonder how a man

could let them kick his ass

How could he just tour and sing

and burn the muse within

While people stole his soul

and didn’t give a damn

No story’s ever completely told

I’m sure Bill’s never will…

fully see the light of day

threats, terrors, and hidden thrills

But sad to say, the industry hacks

silenced another voice

Murdered his music with overplay

then drove off in their Rolls-Royce

Someday Bill might play again,

reclaim his old guitar

But he’ll really have to throw it down

to best his yesterstar

The songs might still burn within

his broken soul and yet

Bill’s old guitar’s still behind glass

and he ain’t playin’ yet…

Bill’s old guitar’s still behind glass

and he ain’t playin’ yet…

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