Do You Wake in the Middle of the Night and Can't Get Back to Sleep?

I woke up at 3a.m. I'm finishing Barry Lyndon now. I dozed out a few times, but didn't really sleep. So, do I start my day now? I don't know.
A whale's tail, according to dreams, is a powerful propellant against that which swims behind; and a bicycle can be peddled, with wings hoisted above that flap by a rope pulled by either arm of the rider, to fly.
Why in that house, all to myself, were those two moochers with me? These women who want to talk, have nothing to say, and never want to listen. I could say something more to them, but they don't care. They will use it as a segue, poor as it may be, to say something else of their own.
My God. I planned to buy groceries. Why did they buy four cartons of milk? And all those prepared and snack foods, overlooking produce and items with which to prepare meals? and then expect repayment for all this I do not care for? Out of my dream, women. I've a wedding for my good friend Barry Lyndon to attend.
What an outlandish wedding with all the accoutrement. Dreadfully long ceremony, disgustingly uncomfortable clothing, and everyone seems to snub each other. I'm going to hit on all the women, steal away with each for just long enough to lure their desire, then drop them, all to spite their husbands and their own snotty upittyness; and I'm going to kneel here, now that the ceremony is over and everyone is escorted to the dining hall, and disrobe; and steal this figurine, just because people with this much will not notice this is missing - why, a figurine of my dear friend Barry Lyndon!
(Oh, I see I'm closely watched by a guard. Let's see how many garments I can remove before people passing and this guard who stares on me become uncomfortable.) There, all done. To eat!

The Sea That Swallowed It All

Little birds catch little bugs,
running away from waves.
Not much time to catch their supply
before getting washed away.
   Make it quick, little birds!
  Make it on the dash!
   Take your catch to the trading post
  and swap it out for cash!

Seals swam across the tide
that washed the tips of my toes.
They looked at me with drowsy eyes
and even waved hello.
    Howdy, slippery sea seal.
   Hope yer doin' well.
    Come up closer and tell me,
   whatcha got to sell?

The ocean acted timid
then heaved a heavy sigh.
I said, "Come closer ocean.
Whatcha wanna buy?"
    It breathed bigger waves and
   I was nearly washed away.
    It said, "Your trades bore me."
   Then swallowed up the bay.

Let's Keep Moving

Hunger pangs me, love pains me, music sustains me. Let's keep moving.
News bores me, money ignores me, people entice me. Let's keep moving.
Fiction inspires me, truth enlightens me, roaming drives me. Let's keep moving.
Math confuses me, strangers define me, life survives me. Let's keep moving.
Heaven's beyond me, politics distract me, economy lies. Let's keep moving.
Rain washes me, sunshine bathes me, clouds shade me. Let's keep moving.
Drugs trap me, boozing troubles me, laughing delights me. Let's keep moving.
Songs lift me, stories teach me, banter delights me. Let's keep moving.
Creation amazes me, work strengthens me, boredom kills me. Let's keep moving.
Religion bruises me, argument tires me, God leads me. Let's keep moving.

Three My's...

My American Dream:
"We banter with strangers, then we have friends." - Elwood P. Dowd, Harvey

My National Anthem:
This Land is Your Land

My philosophy:
I am this. Life abounds. Let's mingle.

Sidewalk Party

I played music in the street one day and this guy came up wearing messy clothes with scraggly hair and beard. He listened and clapped along to one of my songs. We started talking. He asked what songs I know. He said do I know any Bob Dylan, so I played Like a Rolling Stone. He sang every single line to that song and when it came time for the harmonica, he cupped his hands up to his mouth and made this loud "Whah whah whah" sound. A group of other people, bums or homeless, beggars, all joined me and we played songs together. Guy at the pretzel cart gave me a free one. It tasted like turpentine. On the streets of NYC, outside of Port Authority, about 4 strangers and myself had a sidewalk party, jamming around and talking. Tony said that if every hour I put 2 dollars of what I earned away, so that I can't use it, by the end of the day I'll have a growing savings account for anything I want to spend it on. Good tip from a beggar.

Riddle Rant Ranger Rufus

Billy the Kid was a nickname until he became an outlaw. Then it was his "alias." Like an "area" becomes a "jurisdiction" for cops.
"Sir, you can't sit on the floor to read."
I'm getting sick of all the little rules. Leash laws. Seat belt laws. These are forms of control. Think you are "Free." I'm going to enjoy wine on Greyhound because I'm thirsty and prefer wine to water. Most people do. Why you think Jesus so often made that fancy little change up?
And I'm gonna sit for a moment to read the Forward written by William Carlos Williams because the book is on the bottom shelf and it hurts my knees to squat. No, i'm not gonna go sit in the in-store Starbucks to read a page and a half. Go shelf books.
"Sir, you're blocking the fire exit." "No I'm not. If  there's a fire, I'll be the first one out the door!"

Beach Nights

Beach Nights

Midnight swim, three a.m., clear stars and the tide rolls in bringing a cloud of stringy seaweed. Wading in the water, dark as the bluish black-eye of night, we float with the slow breath of each rolling wave, low in the calm of pre-dawn, in the mouth of the world; the ocean of antiquity, that never ceases, will never cease breathing. We, needles in the pin-cushion sea, reflections of constellations, every bit as stationary; every bit infinite, stitching the seam between breath and eternity. The breadth of reality extends beyond imagination, and we are fantasy. Serenity such as this exists only in ourselves, buoyant and unattached; bound by air and water to the terrestrial water scape that lays below our dangling toes; eyes upturned to heaven, looking through paradise to paradise; perfection exists in experience. No need to sulk and every reason to open our eyes to the salty serenity of living. This is easier in the cold water and chilled breeze of seashore serenades whispered by the lips of the Atlantic, shone by the pierced ears of midnight blue skies. Life reminds us, on occasions such as this, that to float is to celebrate the tide.