Flew out of Mr. Hope’s airport this week. (Taken with instagram)
Vineyards. (Taken with instagram)
The synapses that glow
are the juices that flow
like a streetlamp
quivering
in the dark
suffocated by repetition
scorning at the thought of burning out
like a firecracker
avalanching
across the sky
bombing the canopy
continuing to trail after the burst
like a marriage
fostering
stemming feelings of
love at first sight
discovering your downs don’t outweigh her ups
like a bird
piloting
effortlessly rivaling
at odds with gravity
wings aren’t made for walking
The synapses that glow
are the juices that flow
Let me drown in them.
The sun is coming out. It’s a good day to ride.
The clouds’ cigarette smoke
Adorning the scenery
in a gradient blanket
A misty smother
hydrating the lungs
sinking into the skin
A most refreshing wakeup.
I don’t like misplacing things, especially things I enjoy. I’ve been unable to find my copies of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows for months now. I’ve already read them, but for all I know, they could be in Des Moines, IA.
It’s been a predominantly acoustic and folk season around my apartment this week. I attribute it mostly to the new guitar I purchased this month, and the increased attention to detail I’ve been paying to lyrics. Not that I didn’t care about lyrics before: I just generally find myself attempting to understand the heart of one’s words more often.
James Taylor - Sweet Baby James
Neil Young - Heart of Gold
Fleetwood Mac - Landslide
Robert Plant & Alison Krauss - Rich Woman
Simon & Garfunkel - The Boxer
Ray LaMontagne and the Pariah Dogs - Beg, Steal or Borrow
The Civil Wars - Poison & Wine
Kenny Loggins - House At Pooh Corner
The Beatles - Because
Jay-Z - Death of Autotune
Ok, so not entirely acoustic…
This is a book I used to love when I was a kid. Between this and Winnie-the-Pooh, 1930s children’s literature was the staple of my bedtime stories. I recently stumbled across it again, and forgot how much I love the art from that era.
Today, I took the train. It reminded me of a time I probably would have enjoyed living in.
In spite of what happened in Tucson this past weekend:
I’m thankful to live in a place that is not characterized by these type of actions.
I am thankful to live amongst citizens who are affected by the harming of innocent people, and the loss of those senselessly murdered.
I’m thankful to live in a country that still allows words like this to be read on national television:
“The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.”
“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”
May God continue to bless America.
