time wasted, wasted time...it's already gone with the last rhyme

the cliche of time keeps going over in my mind
back and forth, over and done
only to begin again to replay itself
waiting for another day, another situation
to lock a memory inside my endless creation
of things remade, redone and removed
there's nothing new on this train
just old friends trying to be renewed
they're making their way to find me there
waiting for their arrival, i just sit there and stare
replaying the times of times when i was aware

dream of the road

i wrote a poem for a project for one of my symbols classes that had to do with telling a story about ourselves. the best story i could think of was a culmination of the adventures molly and i have had on the road these last couple of summers following bob around. i have written about some of these adventures in my blog but i think this poem is what i have been trying to say with all those long drawn out renditions of each and every event that took place. hopefully this will give a greater picture of the overall feeling of what these adventures were like for us. here goes...

What cd do you want to play?
Smiling faces ask each other behind the wheel on a hot southern day.
I wonder if we'll see the bus on the way?
Hopeful hearts looking out the window singing along to the song of redemption
Not knowing their fate or if they'll even get in.
Hoping not to run into any deadends.
Do you know where we are? Were we supposed to go this far? Are the directions even in the car?
Lost on the road with a big show to see, trying to find our way don't come that easy.
But we always seem to make it to that big open stage,
And even meet some nice folks along the way.
We soon learn that security guards are our friends and the value of free tickets that a roadie sends.
Getting backstage with nothing but our charm, as if our innocent eyes pleading, "Sir, we mean no harm."
Just to get a glimpse of the one we came to see,
And maybe tell him thank you for all this possibility.
Giving nothing more than a hand and a smile
We get to see another world for a little while.
A little serendipity and luck sure took us a l ong way
But the adventure we had were more than we could ever repay.

The dream of the road
It always starts out with no where to go
Sometimes fast and sometimes slow
The feel of my foot on the pedal is all i really want to know.
Fast food and dirty hotel rooms
Sometimes the joy of rambling is over way too soon.

what it is

my head is being twisted and wrung with by our infamous fathers of psychology, freud and jung, oh and my personal favorite, that french guy jean piaget. i can barely wrap my head around that one. i think i finally get the difference between jung and freud but the challenging thing is how to actually apply this knowledge to art therapy. i usually don't like to talk about school in my blogs but the subject of symbolism is something that has been shoved down our throats these past few weeks and i can't seem to get away from it. hmm, what is a personal symbol? universal symbol? archetype? collective unconscious? ahhhhhhhhhh....its' taken about 3 weeks for us to answer these questions and in some ways it still isn't clear. you think you know it but then you wonder because the answer you're looking for is coming from place of thought where everything is open to interpretationand so you can keep going around in circles. all i really want to know is......WHERE IS MY AIRSTREAM!!! all i know is that is my personal symbol of freedom. anyway, but i think what i'm "supposed" to be learning is starting to integrate itself in my brain. "integrate" haha a jungian slip. i'm starting to get them both. and we have two whole classes devoted to this subject. go figure.

today during class i did feel proud of myself because i remembered an answer from a question that our professor asked us that was from a class from a year ago that nobody else could remember. sublimation for 500 alex! anyway, i felt like i was on a roll today. i usually don't speak up much but today for some reason i felt like i was on jeaopardy. heheh, i know thats probably not that big a deal for some people but for me simple things like that really make me feel good. but just as i was basking in my triumph a bunch of change just fell out of my pocket onto the floor. i just got these new black pants for work and i guess the pockets are really shallow. i just crossed my legs and you hear the cling clang of change hit the floor and everybody just busted out laughing. my professor didn't seem too amused though. i couldn't help but laugh too.

and....I LOVE MY APARTMENT! it'll do for now until i get my airstream.

THE MAN COMES AROUND

this song was played at my grandpa, Keith Morey's, funeral last week. i don't really know how to write about one's passing so i won't. I would like to write about his life though, eventually, in a book or memoir of some sort. i'm still in the early brainstorming period. he just has so many outrageous and interesting experiences of anyone. he was one of the most amazing people i ever knew, and a lot of other people would agree. I just know, as my mom would say, "there's a big 6ft7 hole in the world now."

THE MAN COMES AROUND

There's a man going around taking names and he decides
Who to free and who to blame every body won't be treated
Quite the same there will be a golden ladder reaching down
When the man comes around

The hairs on your arm will stand up at the terror in each
Sip and each sup will you partake of that last offered cup
Or disappear into the potter's ground
When the man comes around

CHORUS

Hear the trumpets hear the pipers one hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to a big kettledrum
Voices calling and voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
Its alpha and omegas kingdom come
And the whirlwind is in the thorn trees
The virgins are all trimming their wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn trees
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks
Till Armageddon no shalom no shalom

Then the father hen will call his chicken's home
The wise man will bow down before the thorn and at his feet
They will cast the golden crowns
When the man comes around

Whoever is unjust let him be unjust still
Whoever is righteous let him be righteous still
Whoever is filthy let him be filthy still
Listen to the words long written down
When the man comes around

CHORUS

Hear the trumpets hear the pipers one hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to a big kettledrum
Voices calling and voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
Its alpha and omegas kingdom come
And the whirlwind is in the thorn trees
The virgins are all trimming their wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn trees
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks
In measured hundred weight and penny pound
When the man comes around

There's a man going round taking names
And he decides who to free and who to blame
Everybody won't be treated all the same
There'll be a golden ladder reachin down
When the man comes around