Election '12

So Much Bickering over Lack of Choices

Trained

Trained Over Stations and Platforms Boarding pass in hand to a Destination Nowhere I meet her that Rendezvous with Heartbreak Outcome for Certain Still I travel Trained

Wormhole

bittersweet nectar from fruit picked too early. bit more age would have made a taste divine instead of waiting for the ground to catch you i stretched out on limb to make you mine held you in my hand but for a moment before your lesson abruptly taught me an apple a day keeps the doctor away and foolish are boys who climb in trees

B .Ambition

With sublety my heart ticks beating between skips my breath pauses before it gasps shaking hands still briefly then reverse into tremble I speak loudly to my ears yet she hears a mumble i tell myself im ok but i know im in trouble feelings pass they always do this ones taking longer than most of the others do stillness is peaking mind goes into fight or flight im sure none of it matters so i just say goodnight

Sillyness

Upon my travels as a hapless pawn i met a troubadour full of song and the two of us became fast friends and here is where the story begins deeply entrenched he was in this kingdom not knowing how to gain his freedom. for it was by majesties decree all subjects must bow upon one knee. Princes egos reflected hardons phony words made up jesters jargon. you will fail if from my gates you leave paperless pardons held tightly, Foolish king. so power he wrench tighter till it snapped lifting the drawbridge like he was under attack. over reaction is what we had hoped as we paddled our craft across the moat. for by keeping his eye on his servants the loyal ones who didnt deserve it. that control led to the castles downfall for the peasants inside were tired of the gall. and down this road me and the troubadour go with a new group of friends who enjoy lifes show

Keys To The Highway

Josh Makosky Vox and guitar Chad Rupp Harp Ryan McKenzie Art and Video

A.B. Chronicles

A life transformed into venetian blinds eyes tonight drawn to a close. Yet still there is penetrating light. Misguided will seeks to impose My soul sits on that swivel, melancholy thoughts articulate imagination feeds itself some fragile without predjudice it instigates the inner fight gives no quarter nor does it seek out consultation my struggle has always been inside but yet its outside i seek reparation

Commuter Mind

NUMBER 27 to MARYHILL AND ALL STOPS NORTH WILL BE LEAVING IN 6 MINUTES. Six minutes always seems like an eternity this time of night. I hardly ever wait this long to get home but when the boss says you got to get it done you got to get it done. I feel so stressed right now i wish I could be like that Yoga man. He always appears to be so content maybe it's the necklace that brings him such peace maybe one day i will have to ask him where he got it. I really dont like this platform it's not that im scared as much as i am fearful. Always struck me as the kind of place one would detonate a bomb or go off on a mindless shooting rampage.Security is always so low there would be sure to be tons of casualities but they would be faceless victims. Tramps and vagrants, burned out old hippies, single mommieswith their little ones. Numbers in a system.5 MINUTES Time always drags when you have something pressing to do. Anna said she was going to pick up bread for dinner. I hope she doesn't get that 11 grain baguette from Martins Deli. Good bread should only be made up of two grains max. Anymore and it's suitable for only jelly.4 MINUTES I must remember to renew my gym membership.I need to get rid of these excess pounds, I know it bothers Anna that I'm not as fit as when we first met.At least this year we are going to Hawaii , Mexico has become such a bore with the out of control cartelsshooting the hell out of everything. I will miss the cheap tequila though.3 MINUTES Poor girl can't be much older than 22 with three kids. I do hope that they won't be riding with me all the way home. I'm glad Anna doesn't want children or at least not yet. I hate buying condoms but when you look at the alternative they aren't so bad.2 MINUTES I do blame M.T.V. for todays youth culture sure we had some tough guys in the neighborhood but they messed with each other. Todays tough knocks over little ladies while trying to hold their daddy's jeans up. Tattoos on the face are cool if you live in the south pacific and can crack open coconuts with your bare hands. 1 MINUTE Oh I see the Flasher is back have'nt "seen" him in weeks. I read a story bout a man in an overcoat getting arrested on the Number 12 i wonder if it was our friend. I really don't have a problem with exposing yourself if you can handle the ridicule on a cold night. I would say i dont care much for his coat choice I' ve always been a poplar kind of guy. Wool blends make me itch too much.NUMBER 27 NOW ARRIVING. PLEASE WAIT TILL IT COMES TO A COMPLETE STOP BEFORE BOARDING.

3 A.M. Shari's 3am Session

Josh Makosky Guitar and vox Ryan McKenzie Art and Video

Napkins Pt. I

In the Land of goretex i thought i was slicker. tried to save her from the rain, that damn pancho was quicker. they disappeared behind the pitter and patter. giving me a lesson on love as subject matter in affaires de cœur one shouldn't muddle when the sky has become an upside down puddle

I WILL SURVIVE

Chad Rupp Uke and Vox Ryan McKenzie Art and Video

Seeing things for the first time (Cover) Shari's 3am Sessions

Josh Makosky Guitar and Vox Ryan McKenzie Art and Video

Ghostwriter

A girl sophisticated and refined Alludes me through life’s mystery traveling over the pages of my mind Ghost writing my autobiography In the first chapter she came as the dawn Waking me up out of timidity I stood in the sun a little too long Ghost writing my autobiography Chapter two she was a redemptive shot To anyone else she would have been fine Still I was stuck inside One’s mental block Traveling over the pages of my mind Became a recluse in the third chapter Hiding from things I thought I didn’t need Pain just wasn’t worth the chasing after Ghost writing my autobiography In the final chapter I was denied looking for a place of sanctuary traveling over the pages of my mind Ghost writing my autobiography

Black Magic Woman.......

Tylenol p.m.

sitting on the edge of the bed coming down out of a lucid dream. replay it over in my mind my fingers tightly grip the sheets. remembering the way she looked. her touch her scent and her feel. i hear a whisper in my brains center she calls me back to the pillow wants to finish what we started i fear closing my eyes again and becoming brokenhearted

Red Hot Blues

Something i mashed up

ma première passion vraie

Words whispered in seductions masquerade Verbs tangoing with the ear and noun, Upon your passions the gauntlets been laid Touch invades your delicate sense of sound Sensitive is everything your fingertips brush Clarity delivers its peace of mind You struggle with the repetition of love shaking from the collapse of your spine Motionless you ask for a surrender Finally you jettisoned your reticence Hope it was ,is ,and as you remember. until Ryan

23° 26′ 16″

She was this young boys lonesome heart beating as much as she was a time bomb ticking I fell under her spell the second I met her Raven black hair, hung soft past her shoulders The easy way she smiled, the twinkle in her eye My crush so strong made pebbles out of boulders I was frightened by the way I could talk with ease And all at the same time be buckling at the knees She said you cant always get what you desire But that doesn’t mean its not worth a shot Set my poor soul eternally on fire Condemned to a prison that fate forgot

A. .sk

Occasional mist sprays from the fountain Forgotten drops of past reminisces Recycled dreams hurdling over the mountain Scattering all of the angels kisses As water escapes like all those wishes i'm left standing there my eyes are closed thinking of could’ve beens and near misses Must’ve phrased the question wrong I suppose Why is it only the righteous man knows? thrown pennies work seldom except on Sunday Examples remind me everywhere I go Pride was always good at getting in the way should’ve told you I wanted you to stay Tried a time or two but my tongue twists Inaudible all those words I wanted to say when i said i loved you its what i meant Tell me why would this fountain exist if dreams are left buried between covers i throw my quarters with a splash and a splish a wish to reunite with each other

Quest to the Edge of Forever

To a place nameless i make reticent return where a heart of fire did once burn Gone having been exposed, to ice and wind frosted over by the bitter cold a survival trail impossible to the unfit where souls evaporate bit by bit extracted a pound of flesh, pints of blood a fair exchange for that ounce of love the mysteries uncovered during travels task behind the walls sat grotesque masks weathered to the bone left with only skin the sheer realization established once again for this journey heeds no direction for it's just a map of my own reflection

Il Terribile Pescecane

A block of wood from a Collodi story made into to something great two ears and a tail never had much glory for the theater of life could not wait lies and vanity held for no real reason other than most basic self preservation To give ego way to behave with such treason The whale that finally got us was our own imagination

A Hollow Gram

She was more a figment than a remnant the dark shadow at the edge of the bed With each passing day it was apparent insecurity found company inside my head the dark shadow at the edge of the bed a shape formed out of forgotten wants the girl found company inside my head Whispering softly her nocturnal taunts Shapes forming out of forgotten wants Impulses that should have long been dead Whispering softly her nocturnal taunts Insomnia for the sins I committed Impulses that should have long been dead With each passing day its apparent retribution for the sins I've committed She stays more a figment than a remnant

My New Project Shari's 3 a.m. sessions

Shari's 3.A.M. Session

.....Direction Ryan McKenzie.....Guitar and Vox Chad Rupp

Don Peyote

Double edge umbrellas honed in downpours on dark nights. thrust and parry streetlights urban windmills bane of existence my fumbling echoes a resistance comedic hero rambles sidewalk cracks laugh joined by broken bottle the 57 bus passes by victorious once again

Her and again

Standing in the sun dreaming of roam ultra-violet journey with clouds rolled on my eyelids screen she makes the scene grabbing unconsciously I cant let go This soul escapade to which i stay slaved slowly rewinds just to get replayed These special affects still have their effects yet the movement shutters the delay A moment forever that has been caught Kind of like this fragmented sentence broken off, We all have our defenses against those loss of senses. Once I get started I'm afraid it'll never want to stop

Shari's 3 A.M. sessions

A Life's Work We are born slabs and boulders Jagged pieces of hardened granite Stone from abstract to statuesque Sweat pours from fingers calloused. the Hammer finds its mark repeatedly As Chisel finds soft spots in vains chipped imperfections show character for once what was shapeless takes form. completion always behind schedule as labors toil makes skill set decrease Hardly ever satisfied with results end still each of us our own masterpiece