Tomato soup and life lessons

 Eric got into his 60s.

 By that time his grandson was 10 years old.

 He would visit his grandfather after school.
 They would talk about some of their future plans.

 But what the grandson wanted to know was if there was tomato soup.
 And if it was going to be good.
And so the old man prepared tomato soup for me his Grandson.
 It was sour and tasted bad, so I poured it out in the kitchen sink.
 
And then he almost slapped me.
Because there wasn't enough to go around in his time.
Anyway, my mistake.
And I stuck by with him. He learned from all of his mistakes, namely an amputated leg, and I learned from mine.

 I took on those lessons, and I became wiser. As he lived here, some of his ideals went into my brain, went into my mind. sure, you could say I learned from them.

Where are your manners?

 Politeness speaks to the future

It has a voice for the modern.

Politeness guides you to possibility.

But vulgarity is baseness.

Vulgarity is primitive.

It is held and echoed from the dirty street drains of centuries gone.

That's why you see old men who don't use any filter when speaking.

And go about their business offending and clumsying their way through the misery.

Those old men reach back into the past with grazed knees from worshipping concrete.

Their sense of honor and pride walks into the slaughter chute.

Here they pretend it's their courage not their resignation.

Why yes the axe head is prefereable to the drip old men.

Bloodied steel instead of a thousand days on a stretcher!

But you don't live nobly, you just bleed your expectations across my carpet!

So where are your fucking manners?

Autumn's thing for you

 So summer really like you.
Summer has a thing for you.
Summer imagines itself your hula hoop.

But Autumn is infatuated with you.
Fell in love and falls in love with you each day.

But winter, winter doesn't like you.
Winter seems to have something against you.
It tells Summer and autumn that you are no good for them.

Winter tells them all to walk away.
Except spring, Winter's arch rival.
And your vitality is likened to spring.

Winter tells the months that you are not good enough for anyone.
Winter is so pale, cold and waning.
Autumn is bronze and rich and so complex

Autumn is all of the colors and flavors
Secrets the equinoxes know deep down
And the solstices know only by word

Autumn is all of these things.
Autumn has such a devotion for you.
The rest of the year envies Autumn

Autumn is the marinade of life
The sour rot and the sweet emergencial new growth
Autumn fell in love with you

Which Norn feeds your gaunt spirit

 It's set out infront of you like a banquet
The knife and fork
it is the brain and body
The food on your plate

Your present day
better ask yourself a question
Which course are you on
Which swirl inside the knitted norn

The thread of time
Your existence attempting to align
Finishing dessert?
or just starting on the entree?

The four corners of insanity

 The ins and outs he said
Rabbit holes and dreary prairies
Bogs and forest noises echoing as if in conversation
The ins and outs he said

The obvious, the unmentionable
And the hidden secrets only few will tell
All just thought patterns dominating the mind
each one accumulating unto, or dissapating from itself

The duality of In
Of out
Through your moldable mind
The ins and outs of planet earth

Tomorrow is incomprehensible to you
Lost memories of yesterday
Sanity cracks like a log on the fire
Flames running in and out 

Wood to ember
To coal
To ash
All through out

Inside you 
outside you
behind you
infront of you

Bending consciousness

 Inspired to enchant
Severe and magic spell void wisdom
Digest the earth entire
Digest the power... mind

A million interpretations of the meaning
Each one a surreal gift moving out of itself
Like a serpent losing it´s skin
following a chaotic jungle path

The promise to chosen few
Furnish freedom from within
The axe to massacre illusion
Love to grow

Pre workout

 Change back you wondeful cafeteria
open yourself don't shut me off
Don't become the nurse or the server
don't overlift

don't be bloated by life's excess
Don't be chased by any man
Not even me
Just perfect that which is good already

Don't seek it out
Let it come
We human ambush better than we hunt
anyone would be lucky to get caught in your sticky trap