Tonight's the big party ...
My mom's 80th birthday was a couple of days ago ... my brother and his family are flying in today and we're doing something of a surprise party ... "something of" in that my mom knows that she's coming over here for a birthday dinner (we did a little celebration on Thrusday over there), but she HOPEFULLY is clueless about the Boston contingent appearing. As I've been bitching previously in this space ...we've been spending all damn week getting ready ... now I just need to cook a gourmet meal for 10 people! Wish me luck.
Got this done while waiting for Daughter #1 to get done with her swimming class today ... can't accuse me of sloth ...
ZONES BLASTED GREY
the tides of chaos
swallow us
vast streams of static
swamp all intelligible signals
in inefficient states
all intents are blurred
all needs go unmet
all days are scattered
unable to act
no chance to achieve
we focus on histories
and what's left behind
when denied these futures
we solidify pasts
hoping that these
might form some new basis
so typical
that what is gone
seems more real
more valuable
than what is now
or what may be
so pitiful
so miserable and sad
we can not name the darkness
which shrouds this time
we can not focus
to pierce the veil
which cloaks all things
we only know
that something lurks
behind this malicious haze
so much intrudes
from outer worlds
black holes within
that suck the hours
and all our strength
into their foreign sway
these shadows sweep across the light
and tinge all with that dark
- Brendan Tripp
07/28/2001
Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp
Got this done while waiting for Daughter #1 to get done with her swimming class today ... can't accuse me of sloth ...
ZONES BLASTED GREY
the tides of chaos
swallow us
vast streams of static
swamp all intelligible signals
in inefficient states
all intents are blurred
all needs go unmet
all days are scattered
unable to act
no chance to achieve
we focus on histories
and what's left behind
when denied these futures
we solidify pasts
hoping that these
might form some new basis
so typical
that what is gone
seems more real
more valuable
than what is now
or what may be
so pitiful
so miserable and sad
we can not name the darkness
which shrouds this time
we can not focus
to pierce the veil
which cloaks all things
we only know
that something lurks
behind this malicious haze
so much intrudes
from outer worlds
black holes within
that suck the hours
and all our strength
into their foreign sway
these shadows sweep across the light
and tinge all with that dark
- Brendan Tripp
07/28/2001
Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp