Wave over Wave

Through loquacious outlets I have spun my tales.
Now the waves make the time slow to a tease.
Sprinkle it all with wishes saved from youth,
Memories of fireside smiles
That unconditional love
Which is family.
The holidays.
An excuse to live, as we should
Every day.
I see happy closeness
Food, cheer and thankfulness
As the man in black said,
And I mentioned before,
Nothing Feels Better Than Blood on Blood.
All is good.
Soon, I will be laughing with friends,
Sharing adventure and folly.
I guess I am feeling
Happy.
Chin up, Buttercup.

Casablanca Tomorrow

I must have seen more varied landscapes
Flow by from the window of a bus
Than most see in their entire lives.
At night the lights and hollows hide the plainness.
In the day it is just another rut.
More signs and more shit.
The neon and the billboards speak their plight
But the near familiar gives way to unwanted newness.
I see these trees and bushes and such.
The walkways remind you of others.
But nothing is the same.
The tastes bite back.
Smiles in other tongues.
I find the low places.
The Dirt and the Danger.
I don’t know if I need to
Or if it is just a weird bit of luck.
But the fear and then the excitement
What a rush.
“You played it for her, now play it for me.”