Let pure whiskey hold me here all night
Served two years behind cold steel bars
Counted every star upon my old shield
Now I’m two years here with a feeling strong
Wrestling with an old dream gone
With six steel strings and my heart along
Struggling out beyond the the far beyond
That never turned in time to be
What could forever take me free
Twenty seven steel bars
Pure whiskey holding me here all night
Tag: whiskey
Rocking Chair (day 2508)
Soon we will be done
Floating senselessly in ritual
Buried deep in our catch-up
That niether makes sense
Or rolls smoothly
Just a monotony that drawls
As a smooth Southern Man
Takes his whiskey
Seamlessly sweeping into time
Along a homestead porch
Watching a dust storm
Sitting in a rocking chair.
Whiskey Disco (day 2215)
Whiskey disco has me moving again
Two steps backward
We got four steps to go
Deep diving sunshine
Off a dock kept afloat
By two more bottles
That I just can’t let go
So I’m singing loudly
At the Whiskey Disco
With my old friends
Who’ve got to much on me
We live our lives
So that we get overrun
By no other then
The Whiskey Disco
Jack Jump Down Twice (day 2125)
Jumpin juniper berries
Did I ever tell you about the
Hot rocks in the Devil’s Pass
Down South along Whiskey Gorge?
Oh boy oh boy those rocks
I tell ya
Had me jumping half way down that gorge
Didn’t miss a jump
But sure did scare ol Franny
Boy oh boy
She was hollering after me
And the echo of her hollerin’
Had the whole gorge a’shakin’
And me a jumpin
Oh boy oh boy
Those hot rocks down South!
Saying Goodbye (day 1778)
We got ghosts in our longjohns
And I’m dressed to be late
By the warm smokey campfire
Drinkin’ all the whiskey
I was undone on the train tracks
I was saying goodbye
And I didn’t mean a single word
‘Cause I was spread like a thread
If you ever need a fool
I’ll be the grass to grow
Where you can always find me
Howlin’ at the moon
Counting (day 1650)
From my angle I wasn’t the nerd,
I had the best cold coffee
Settling in the bottom of my to-stay mug,
Rattling around the inside
Of my drastically hungry belly.
I had too many ideas to be passive
And in discourse with unfriendly patrons.
Why are you smiling at me, saying hello?
I’m on the other side of the room.
Can’t you see my furrow, blinded by dull lights?
Perhaps I’m the unfriendly one.
From my angle, I was the mission.
I had written the outline and
Focus was my middle name.
The timer was ticking and
I wasn’t wasting motivation
On Whiskey River in the Jar’O.
I had water to accompany the drip.
Keep the lights low and let
This chaotic music recklessly skip
Into oblivion my cycling mind
Which cannot refuse to be free.
From my angle I had a perfect view
Of both the flighty pixie,
Distracted with a proper stein,
And the siren gently calling my name.
I knew her, of course,
One of the few to break this furrow
And cause me to tarry by name.
Thus, I aggressively gather my activist heart
And settle my score with a battling pickaxe
And two shiny 2013 quarters
That rattle over the buzz and out the door.
Every Step (day 1524)
A risky set of principles
Walked tight around my table,
She reflected my inspirations
Upon her golden lightening wink,
Stuttering my every step
And here I’m left to sit.
If you were whiskey, baby,
This night would be the sip.
Whiskey Tracks (day 1457)
A ground has beginnings:
Longing and forgivings;
Mandate in a bottle,
Lost without a harbour.
As blue sky’s winning,
Heart jumps spinning;
Lover and a well laid plan,
Governor’s left this land.
Help the lizard.
Death on a one way street,
Trucks getting really beat,
Dust covering wiskey tracks.
Smokey Summer (day 1136)
Smokey bandages flutter through the evening sky.
An autumn sun burns the day’s light
Through whiskey breath and campfire.
Cooling breeze shelters the afflicted from blackened breath,
Dire, sister, dire.
Animals have no home, foraging between un-agreed upon lines of human traffic.
Chain link fences only survive through this madness.
Delirium (day 1067)
I do not know where the rose petals fell;
Floating from my conscience as I lost sight of all.
Leaving an impression, like tail winds trickling
Into the evanescence of my breath.
But you who art sight! What cometh of thy history,
Lost into thy pool of still waters shaking.
I fell one warm, kind day – a moon’s length away,
Into the feelings of a warm blooded kiss.
My littered floorboards of mother natures spoil
Tickled my memory while I shook out my whiskers.
I laid there and laughed for the whiskey surged my sour,
And love settled down beside me, for I was delirious.