Ode to the Inspiration ov Inspiration

When is the sparrow like the falcon?
When it hunts its source.

Tapping into a cosmos uncontained,
sculptured in cloud or
mountain high,
it never knows its own reach
unless it soars unchained.

I could use any number of words,
trade them with yours,
and still mean the same thing.

I am wont to wallow
in the same muddy bog
time and time again.

And I know that your strength
comes from above.
To look to you alone, I know,
for guidance
is to look at an image
in a mirror
 in a mirror
  in a mirror.


Even so, even knowing
the nature of the Divine
sometimes to truly understand
we must see it
reflected in our brothers
and sisters.


Thank you. :)

Ramblings in the key of FVKK!

If you look hard enough, you can see it.

If your nose is open, you might be accused of methamphetamine use.
(That's why you can only buy so much Sudafed at a time. Sheez.)


I wish I were tall, like a tree. Or humble, like the ostrich.

Have you ever really taken a good listen to the world around you?
It makes me think of Ragin' Cajuns and gunpowder and cocaine.
I have a pet mushroom.


But I'm not entirely certain that the frog king is even listening. He's looking.
But he has no ears. Nor eardrums.
He just shines under the lamp.

What a lazyass.


The cameleopard is watching you. And he is not amused with your broccolis.

Why?


It's protocal. Standard operating procedure, or SOP. Yes.
Sopping wet. That sounds sexual.


If I had it all to do over again, I would've shaken the interpreter's hand.

If you're too blunt, or your tongue is too sharp, people will probably miss the point.
But getting the point across really only works if you get just the right spot, I think.

Or you could use someone's face as your own personal pen graffiti wall. Use Sharpie markers for even greater fun/assault charges.


(If you ever get arrested in medieval Germany, bring your own handcuffs/blindfolds/smoke grenades. It's gonna be a rough knight.)


As of the time you read this line, unless you've rolled exceptionally well, you have lost at least fifteen sanity points.
I, meanwhile, am enjoying a hearty sandwich of peanut butter and syrup.
My teeth will hate me for it, but fuck 'em. Whadda they know, anyway?

It's like my mouth has these jagged, semi-functional calcium deposits.
I feel like a walking mine.
Or a coughing mime.
Or an overflowing gel pen in six delicious flavors!


In summation, in some nation there are at least sixteen situations involving a little alliteration.


Chew on that, inventors of Big League Chew.


(I actually do miss those candy cigarettes from way back when. Le'sigh.)

Again, this is exactly what...

it appears to be.*
it smells like.
it thinks of.

This is a strange place.*

It's like looking into mirrors reflecting each other.*
Or maybe just
a hurricane.

Again, what exactly is this?

Exactly.








*(unless it's not)