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graymatter
The (Self-Proclaimed) Mindsay Poets' Authority and General Literary Advisor.
 
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S2

Leathered up and prepped for Sunday

Ain’t you got no time to play?

I had hoped to see you one day,

But I shot myself today.

 

Sun is shining in this winter,

In this autumn of my time.

Dreaming on and toward the heaven

Crystal, crimsoned pantomimes.

 

Laid upon a bed of tulips

Raise me up to see me smile

I am leaving now, but trust we

All shall all meet there in a while.

 

Toughened up.  So pleased it’s Sunday.

Lost, but now I've found my way.

I had hoped to see you one day,

But I shot myself today.

 
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Suicide (S1)

Nineteen bullets and nineteen cigarettes . . .

Where am I?

Looking up

I see my shadow in the stars.

I see my withering contempt

And I am fine.

Who’s got time

But then

Who’s got the time to waste?

And who can taste the rotted sunshine

In the crimson of his life?

And where am I?

And am I lost

Or have I found the peace

That’s fodder for a wing?

And what’s begot but sorrow

On the crowning of the morrow

And the selfless dignity

Of whispered dreams.

So shoot the ghost . . .

For nothing is

And nothing seems

But shadowed fallen stars

Afraid to shine

And rotted wasted time.

One beer.

One bullet.

One cigarette.

And nothing yet

And nothing's here.  ,  ,

But time.

 
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Twitter Account
1beer_1bullet
 
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Festus is Dead - Update
Recieved the ashes.  Pondered on where to put them.  On the bookshelf?   On the mantle?  I decided to just have them near me in the room i spend the most time in.  That is where Festus would have wanted to be.  At least for now, that is what works.
 
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Time passes. And she passes without regard those that pass with her nor to those that survive her.

A short while ago a friend of mine died. He is dead. I don’t believe in mincing words. I never have. He has not “passed away” nor has he “gone on to a better place” nor “drifted on” nor “slipped away". He was alive one instant and dead the next. Dead. Period. Here one moment; then gone. Gone.

The best we can ever do is celebrate the life.

This dude was a goof ball. I do not know how I could better start this off. Every hour we spent together was games and mindless banter. He was a cool diversion from things. A diversion but more at the center of me than it seemed, if that makes sense.  He taught me a lot about life that no else ever could. He was always there for me but I never appreciated it more than I do now. I suppose that is the shame of it.

I do hope I enriched his life as much as he did mine. But I may never know.

As much as he showed me about life, so did he about death. The former took a lifetime. The latter took an instant.

Friends really only teach about those two things: life and death. The problem is we never fully take to heart the first lessons until after we have learned the last.

Festus died in the middle of his years. I see him him everywhere. I hear him everywhere. I feel him everywhere.

But he is gone.

11-17-08
 
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Festus is Dead
Time passes. And she passes without regard those that pass with her nor to those that survive her.

A short while ago a friend of mine died. He is dead. I don’t believe in mincing words. I never have. He has not “passed away” nor has he “gone on to a better place” nor “drifted on” nor “slipped away". He was alive one instant and dead the next. Dead. Period. Here one moment; then gone. Gone.

The best we can ever do is celebrate the life.

This dude was a goof ball. I do not know how I could better start this off. Every hour we spent together was games and mindless banter. He was a cool diversion from things. A diversion but more at the center of me than it seemed, if that makes sense.  He taught me a lot about life that no else ever could. He was always there for me but I never appreciated it more than I do now. I suppose that is the shame of it.

I do hope I enriched his life as much as he did mine. But I may never know.

As much as he showed me about life, so did he about death. The former took a lifetime. The latter took an instant.

Friends really only teach about those two things: life and death. The problem is we never fully take to heart the first lessons until after we have learned the last.

Festus died in the middle of his years. I see him him everywhere. I hear him everywhere. I feel him everywhere.

But he is gone.

11-17-08
 
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*Earn This

 

how well have we earned?

how long, though we try,

have we felt each whisper

and burned through each sigh?

and how many suns set

with life still at bay

with rivers so journeyed

and journeyed away?

what of the fair soldier

not waking to dream?

still there as a trooper

but lost to the seams.

what debt that we owe him

enjoyed in sweet breath

can pleasant him forward

this life to the next?

and then, have we earned

and, oh, have we tried

to feel us each whisper

that burns through each sigh?

 

--graymatter  

 

written for SSG Chad Arthur Caldwell,  k troop 3/3 ACR.  May he rest in peace.

 

(Stepped on an IED while assisting Iraqi Police)

 

*The title "Earn This" is taken from the movie "Saving Private Ryan".

 
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This is a respnse to my last entry. interesting.
[ Reply | Delete ]
redwoodpecker on May 15, 2008 at 10:51 PM
Re: Breeze - By Graymatter (Dobie)
Yeah, good thing the marines came along or noone would know what freedom was.  Thank you for stopping those Iraqis from invading and enslaving us, as I know they were just about to do when we stepped in.  Had the boats and camels all ready and everything.

I saw some pictures just the other day of a couple of babies and a little girl who surely would have flown to America and tortured me had they not been valiantly exploded by our brave soldiers.  Thanks to your effort, no one's going to torture me but my own government.  I'll probably deserve it though, or at least I assume so since I don't have to be given a trial.

FREEDOM, FUCK YEAH, GOOD JOB BOYS

"All are excellent followers. "

I bet they are.

Quick, there are Iranians on the horizon who want to take more of my freedom, you better go kill them while the government further reduces my civil liberty to ensure I am free.  And you keep killing, who knew there were so many countries out there who were just about to invade us, good thing we have you huh?
 
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Breeze - By Graymatter (Dobie)
 

I come to graymatternotes  every chance I get (internet connections are sometimes flaky).  Why?  Because I look for every bit of connection with you that I can find.  I do love you very much.  You please me, woman.  You take care of what is mine and that is what a woman is for a man.  You take care of Festus, the house and, most of all, yourself.  You are the greatest that I have to call my own.  You make me trust you and that is just fine.

 

I do not often write when I come here.  I start to but then I get sort of emotional and I stop.

 

Things are not bad here.  Or, rather, they could be worse.  I feel safe.  The men around me are very well trained at protecting themselves and, to some extent, me.  We look out for each other and there are extraordinary measures in effect to keep harm from us. 

 

My job here is a complicated one.  When it is all said and done, there will be over ten people who work for me just to help me accomplish my mission.  They are all smart.  Some are brilliant.  Most are leaders.  All are excellent followers.  We will each lean on one another to ensure success.  That is how the Army works.

 

I have met many Iraqis already.  They are a dignified people.  I have also been in contact with those that would cause harm to the citizens here. I have never seen such evil in my life.  It is all a part of duty.  It all adds a perspective to life.  It all helps us (soldiers) to appreciate the treasure that is America as no one who has not served can.  I often say that if you want to understand Freedom, ask a battle-hardened marine who has had to fight for some else’s.  He knows the true value.

 

I think of you often.

 

If you love your niece, she should come to you.

 

Any quintessence must be tested from time to time in order to prove the metal.  Love must be tested for its trueness to be known.  Consider this your test.  Consider this my test.  Consider this a test of love as a quintessence.  Will we be stronger when I return?  If not, were we ever strong at all?

 

I breeze to you as on a summer's morning.  None but the ends of time can keep this soul at bay

 

With Love,

 

Graymatter / TPS

 
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Red-Head by the River - Dobie

Red-Head by the River - 2004

 

She crowns herself, a burning red

And eyes, they dance like rivers

As she wafts her sweet perfume

Along the meadowland and way.

 

And, lo. But who forgives her?

Every reed that marks her path.

And whistle – ling, they speak

Her tune and loud as she, herself

 

Is burning red.

 

Is burning red and watching,

Whispering and who shall speak

But the yard bird in tuxedo

Sloshing whiskey in his feet?

 

But, red, she lights herself

Upon a fire and

Singes up the lawn.

 

Blows a kiss

Back to her shadow

      And she’s gone. . .

 

Still by the river does

The Day Sun, feels her

Waft upon her way.

 

Still by the river does

She waft upon her way.

 
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Hollywood - Graymatter
Tags: drugs sex

Hollywood

 

Bowed-legged babies

Picking up stars

Hollywood searching

Back end of bars

 

Pigeon-toed sweetness

Tasting the rain

Dancing a dove,

Horse with no name

 

Love struck and sorry

Woeful with wine

Twisted and gloried

Laughing the line

 

Kissed it and found it

Life is about

Poured upon smiles

Squeezing all out

 

Riddles are fine for

Wisdom one speaks

Listening's where is

Truth that one keeps

 

So,


Pick up your baby

Press back the rain

If Hollywood’s searching,

Stars know her name.

 
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Graymatter's Notes
You will see glimpses of me at graymatternotes.  I may be phasing out of graymatter for a time.
 
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Whisper Drunk Love Near and Swoon

You drunk me up

With your sweet wine

Of shining moon

And mescaline.

 

Come sigh.

Come sigh.

Come whisper near.

 

Fall from your Self

And fly.

And fly.

 

Let’s dance upon an angel’s tear

Embraced against

The widowed sky.

 

Come drunk us up

With pleasured wine

Of shining moon

And mescaline.

 

And if our passion,

It don’t prove,

We’ll feather down

To sip and soothe

 

So twist a fever

Up and riled

And twist a river clear.

 

And sigh.

And sigh.

And fall from Self

 

And come, babe,

Whisper near.

 

 Copyright: © 2006 All Rights Reserved.

 
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Smashing Pumpkins with Cinderella - Dobie

Smashing Pumpkins with Cinderella


I kidnapped Cinderella

From the parlor

At the ball

 

We two went

Smashing pumpkins

Drinking whiskies at the mall

 

We danced a little.

Played a fiddle.

Screaming toward the dawn.

 

And turned a twiddle

Cross the middle

Of an iced up pond

 

Say, baby, get your coat

I’m gonna take you

For a ride

 

My limo

Pimps and floats

On all the velboa inside

 

      Cinderella . . . 

Ella’s kidnapped

 And she's riding high with me.

 

And two went

Smashing pumpkins

 On a crisping autumn’s eve.

 
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Blocked

I thought about for a day and did it. Am I wrong for blocking someone just because they annoy me?  I feel like the soup nazi or something.

 
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Ode to the Red-legged Stranger - dobie

Ode to the Red-legged Stranger

 

Artillery

Is planting daisies

Far beyond

Where lilacs grow

 

Lanyard’s might

Does still amaze me

And it’s more

Than I should know

 

Sing for me

My red-legged stranger

Pave the way

That is my path

 

They won’t know

Just what did hit them

All they know

Is red-leg’s wrath

 

Crease the wind

With thunder

And let fire

Dance like rain

 

Leave them gazed

And wondered

At the swiftness

Of the pain

 

Artillery

Is pushing daisies.

  Over yon, 

 No lilacs be.

 

Red-leg’s might

Is still amazing

Lanyard’s taut

And I’m still free

 
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Question #19
Tags: philosophy

Suppose Mr. A dislikes Ms. B and kills her for no reason other than he prefers to live in a world without her. Has Mr. A done anything "wrong", "bad", or "sinful"? Why? What do words like "wrong" really mean? What I'm trying to understand is: on what basis should Mr. A refrain from killing Ms. B?

 

- Phil Haverstick

 
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Question #18
Tags: philosophy

One day, you wake up in hospital. In the nearby bed lies a world famous violinist who is connected to you with various tubes and machines.

 

To your horror, you discover that you have been kidnapped by the Music Appreciation Society. Aware of the maestro's impending death, they hooked you up to the violinist.

 

If you stay in the hospital bed, connected to the violinist, he will be totally cured in a few months. You are unlikely to suffer harm. No one else can save him. Should you stay connected? Or should you let him die?

 

What (if anything) would you think of the person who would let him die? 

 
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Question #17
If you have a freedom that you cherish and someone speaks out against it, do you become more concerned with the freedom that you hold dear or more concerned with someone else's freedom to speak against it? Think about it.
 
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