tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66440832492004761052024-03-13T10:09:24.064-07:00In Response To YouThis is a daily exploration of creative energy. We post every other day "in response" to each other.Tru Dillonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06897278695146373746noreply@blogger.comBlogger193125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-75684917151637512922016-08-05T19:47:00.000-07:002018-02-06T15:04:46.438-08:00Recipe: Trump Roast<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">you may have seen this recipe listed elsewhere as: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">Recipe for Disaster</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;">rest assured this is the same recipe dating back to the earliest days of </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://huey%20p%20long/" target="_blank">huey p long</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6C-kBVggFrs" target="_blank">george wallace</a></span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;"> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nixon_White_House_tapes" target="_blank">richard nixon</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Trump Roast</span></div>
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Take a fresh young baby: must be an all white male</div>
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Remove hair and place in the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ej1hlQgwXcA" target="_blank">lap of luxury</a>, smother in fragrant doting parents,</div>
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rub in all the best schools money can buy and finally add a copious amount of <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/fact-checker/wp/2016/03/03/trumps-false-claim-he-built-his-empire-with-a-small-loan-from-his-father/?utm_term=.25fb3f481c31" target="_blank">fresh green cash.</a></div>
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Next: glaze baby with <a href="http://www.vanityfair.com/news/2015/08/donald-trump-marie-brenner-ivana-divorce" target="_blank">no consequences</a> for bad behavior. This step is important!</div>
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If you fail to glaze constantly, it will be too tender and sprout a conscience.</div>
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This will create a soft baby and it will be too flaccid. We are aiming for a hard crunchy</div>
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<a href="http://everydayfeminism.com/2016/04/antihero-worship-donald-trump/" target="_blank">unfeeling Trump Roast.</a></div>
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Now take your bouquet of <a href="http://money.cnn.com/2015/10/16/media/donald-trump-graydon-carter-feud/" target="_blank">bitter herbs</a> and fill all the cavities. Stuff it well into the crevices.</div>
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The bitter herbs will impart the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XSnya9HBOcw" target="_blank">pinched disdainful look</a> in the appearance of your roast that will enhance your final presentation.</div>
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Place your baby roast on a bed of young<a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/style/column-anna-holmes-on-donald-trumps-sexism/2011/04/21/AFmSfEHF_story.html" target="_blank"> buxom blondes.</a> Use only <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/naked-truth-melania-man-disrobed/story?id=40663883" target="_blank">surgically enhanced females</a> as this is the secret to the Trump Roast: The Silicone and fake smiles will add that <a href="https://medium.com/@michellerichmon/trump-scientology-7e6d51f404e5#.92iqmvp0o" target="_blank">secret sauce</a> we all crave and keep the baby cozy and secure as we place it in the oven.</div>
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This baby roast must be baked at a very low temperature; as it cant stand <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/donald-trump-air-conditioning_us_5797754ee4b0d3568f8485e4" target="_blank">any heat</a>.</div>
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Too much heat or pressure will cause the baby to<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2IjF4snIV1Q" target="_blank"> explode</a>. This is very dangerous and anyone nearby can be hurt from the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U2BHN8Nm5gU" target="_blank">toxic outgassing</a> and chunks of melting silicone.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Once the baby has reached an internal temperature of <a href="http://www.npr.org/sections/itsallpolitics/2015/10/15/448718726/south-korea-trumps-where-are-you-from-moment" target="_blank">No Patience </a>and you have checked for </div>
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an <a href="http://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/trump-has-no-soul-father-of-us-muslim-soldier-says-s9gg686gx" target="_blank">Absence of Soul</a>, take your baby out of the oven and place on a serving tray covered in:</div>
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chopped <a href="http://www.politifact.com/truth-o-meter/statements/2015/sep/21/carly-fiorina/trumps-four-bankruptcies/" target="_blank">Failed businesses</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.capitolhillblue.com/node/61689" target="_blank">Plenty of broken promises</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/wonk/wp/2016/07/27/why-clinton-is-less-trusted-when-trump-lies-much-more/" target="_blank">A sprinkling of dishonesty</a> </div>
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And dusted with the essence of <a href="http://blogs.scientificamerican.com/beautiful-minds/donald-trump-s-real-ambition/" target="_blank">cold hard ambition.</a> </div>
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You are now ready to serve your Trump Roast. This dish is best served to angry young white men and aimless cranky <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U07Or5reur8" target="_blank">old people</a>. They will especially like all the <a href="http://theantimedia.org/if-you-think-donald-trump-sounds-like-a-4th-grader-its-because-he-does/" target="_blank">low vocabulary white meat</a> that is the hallmark of this great American Dish. Bon Appetit! And don't forget to serve with a wine of your choosing. We like the <a href="http://trumpwinery.orderport.net/product-details/0412/Taste-of-Trump" target="_blank">Blanc de Blanc </a> ( cant get more white than that) by Trump Wines. Because the delicious flavor of <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/local/trump-buys-former-kluge-owned-winery/2011/04/07/AF8hn7wC_story.html" target="_blank">branding is everything</a>!<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dkN7hOxzwZY/V6VX7aRD8EI/AAAAAAAAA50/kMp7f1suwYwWyMPktRPQSovkap5wyXyGACLcB/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="164" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dkN7hOxzwZY/V6VX7aRD8EI/AAAAAAAAA50/kMp7f1suwYwWyMPktRPQSovkap5wyXyGACLcB/s200/image.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Tru Dillonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06897278695146373746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-35032278434284789042016-01-08T17:07:00.000-08:002016-01-08T17:07:42.591-08:00Gothica<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LEidbDJJh38/VpBRQs-UU5I/AAAAAAAAA5A/EVwrxd394gw/s1600/DocImage295.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="311" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LEidbDJJh38/VpBRQs-UU5I/AAAAAAAAA5A/EVwrxd394gw/s400/DocImage295.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I bought this house in 1958<br />
straight outa the army<br />
with a VA loan<br />
<br />
It's all vintage<br />
from the linoleum<br />
the single pane windows<br />
original tar and gravel roof<br />
<br />
You people with your<br />
double pane windows<br />
and fancy heating systems<br />
<br />
Wear layers I tell ya, layers<br />
why I can remember when...<br />
Shhhhhh she said<br />
<br />
As she laid her velvet gin soaked<br />
fingers across his chapped lips<br />
Shhhhhh she said<br />
<br />
As she led his hollowed body<br />
down the dark sweaty hallway<br />
Shhhhh she said<br />
<br />
As she held his face up to the mirror<br />
illumined with the only working<br />
light bulb in the house<br />
<br />
Shhhhh she said;<br />
The light scalded his sallow face<br />
one tear fell from his squinty eyes<br />
then the mirror quietly cracked in twoTru Dillonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06897278695146373746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-81954746021800878502016-01-03T15:09:00.000-08:002016-01-03T15:09:33.334-08:00Day Light Savings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
cows just don’t get it<br />
bellowing at the milking house door<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W340v5lV0BA/VompJf1uyTI/AAAAAAAAFe4/_jv_zIadMeg/s1600/dog%2Bfood.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W340v5lV0BA/VompJf1uyTI/AAAAAAAAFe4/_jv_zIadMeg/s200/dog%2Bfood.jpeg" width="200" /></a>and in the farm house<br />
the dog cocks its head at its empty bowl<br />
and then at the bedroom door<br />
back and forth<br />
as if that was the secret code<br />
which would fill its bowl with kibbles<br />
on the radio talk-show<br />
time is exhausted trying to determine<br />
if daylight really needed to be saved<br />
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Brian Bielefeldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09220431693253781416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-6556832731684285712015-10-26T17:46:00.000-07:002015-10-26T17:46:17.971-07:00Houdini in Chains<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tAohvm3egak/Vi7ApgcEQ9I/AAAAAAAAAlE/1Z9M8rrYWK8/s1600/houdini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tAohvm3egak/Vi7ApgcEQ9I/AAAAAAAAAlE/1Z9M8rrYWK8/s320/houdini.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_GMQLjzVGfw" target="_blank">Houdini</a> had been born in a time<br />
when belief in magic was strong and common place<br />
like <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gkhkgjcMEtA" target="_blank">water to wine</a><br />
and the mystery of electricity<br />
<br />
Handsome and devilishly deft in the ways of human nature<br />
he sought not so much as to trick, as to astound<br />
subtle manipulator, but not enough strength<br />
to escape the binds<br />
of wife and mother<br />
<br />
Both laid claims to his body and soul<br />
Mother by birth Wife by fire<br />
neither one cared to untangle the chains<br />
of female bondage<br />
encircling his heart and mind<br />
with duty and desire<br />
<br />
Houdini escaped the obvious magician props:<br />
Those ropes never held<br />
These chains are child's play<br />
<a href="http://publicdomainreview.org/collections/houdini-on-his-water-torture-cell-1914/" target="_blank">The Chinese Water Torture;</a> a gift of life<br />
<br />
His mother preceded him in death<br />
but he never escaped his wife<br />
who continued to call his name<br />
and summon his body<br />
until she too reached eternity<br />
<br />
Desire always wins out in the end<br />
But Mama got there firstTru Dillonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06897278695146373746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-23202718091611885932015-09-26T12:30:00.003-07:002015-09-26T12:30:52.759-07:00The Tourist Train<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
my thoughts are like a tourist train<br />
slowly moving out of dark forest<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yWvCc9DHveE/VgbyNw-zfpI/AAAAAAAAAhY/NPK9rgyG5SI/s1600/train%2Bsanta%2Bcruz%2B2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yWvCc9DHveE/VgbyNw-zfpI/AAAAAAAAAhY/NPK9rgyG5SI/s200/train%2Bsanta%2Bcruz%2B2.jpeg" width="200" /></a>towards the limitless ocean<br />
the cars filled with beings<br />
who don’t live here, just visiting<br />
happy children waving<br />
parents cautiously smiling<br />
grandparents tense,<br />
they know where this ends<br />
I sit and watch<br />
suppressing the desire to climb on<br />
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Brian Bielefeldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09220431693253781416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-57123976622495627482015-01-02T12:08:00.000-08:002015-06-29T19:35:18.115-07:00New Years Walk<br />
<br />
<br />
He has a sure and steady stride<br />
like one I used to Love<br />
<br />
More like a lope really<br />
a slow giddy-up kind of walk<br />
unburdened by sickness<br />
or frailty<br />
a Knowing is his gait<br />
and a place of purpose to go to<br />
<br />
Its all purpose;<br />
the dark <a href="https://twitter.com/bluejeansnet" target="_blank">blue jeans</a><br />
the <a href="https://twitter.com/bluejeansnet" target="_blank">camouflage jacket</a><br />
the <a href="http://blog.zennioptical.com/dont-fear-mothra-eyes-inspired-glasses-anti-reflective-coating/" target="_blank">mirrored sun glasses</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gsfd44BwkDc/VKb6Fk4pXzI/AAAAAAAAAeY/8HyrpAtWzwk/s1600/DocImage127.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gsfd44BwkDc/VKb6Fk4pXzI/AAAAAAAAAeY/8HyrpAtWzwk/s1600/DocImage127.jpg" width="253" /></a>He is moving through this parking lot<br />
like he owns it<br />
<br />
My gaze lingers too long<br />
He turns around to see me<br />
I dont return his look<br />
instead I stare at the blue blue skyTru Dillonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06897278695146373746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-58966136487419507282014-11-08T12:50:00.003-08:002014-11-08T12:50:44.795-08:00Now<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
What can be said of this moment?<br />
<br />
A soft coverlet pulled back<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uJ2cJwg3UMs/VF6B67CPZ4I/AAAAAAAAAYE/nZ2A-uCkvVw/s1600/curtains.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uJ2cJwg3UMs/VF6B67CPZ4I/AAAAAAAAAYE/nZ2A-uCkvVw/s1600/curtains.jpeg" height="183" width="200" /></a><br />
Gauze curtains riffling beside an open window<br />
<br />
A single white chicken standing in the morning mist<br />
<br />
A herd of spotted cows, heads turned as one<br />
watching the milk truck on its way out <br />
to the road<br />
<br />
and let us not forget<br />
forget<br />
forgotten<br />
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Brian Bielefeldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09220431693253781416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-57988351741495318402014-10-28T06:00:00.000-07:002014-10-28T06:00:05.103-07:00I can rememberI can remember when there seemed to be an order to things<br />
<br />
If I did this, then this would happen<br />
I I did not do this, then this would not happen<br />
<br />
Order has <a href="http://anthro.palomar.edu/synthetic/synth_3.htm" target="_blank">Mutated</a><br />
Order was a Joke<br />
Order is no More<br />
<br />
Life is happening in crinkly bits<br />
that make no sense<br />
My soul has flown the coop<br />
and left me bereft for my self<br />
<br />
Realizing there are no mistakes,<br />
only a jury rigged semblance of life ahead<br />
The <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TPzU1Uz8ujw" target="_blank">royal We</a> plods on<br />
<br />
Look!<br />
My <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/07/dining/where-to-find-serious-coffee-in-new-york-everywhere.html?_r=0" target="_blank">coffee </a>is getting cold<br />
time to hoist high my wind ripped sails<br />
and get on with todays mighty living<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qLl86LxjNvI/VE7IfQGs8lI/AAAAAAAAAdo/P3Dg4KF9Ckg/s1600/Loutherbourg%2C_The_Glorious_First_of_June.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qLl86LxjNvI/VE7IfQGs8lI/AAAAAAAAAdo/P3Dg4KF9Ckg/s1600/Loutherbourg%2C_The_Glorious_First_of_June.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Tru Dillonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06897278695146373746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-62810396198345309902014-10-26T13:29:00.000-07:002014-10-26T13:29:02.484-07:00Murmuration<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I take a breath of the cool air<br />
let it out to join the ocean of molecules<br />
that surround this day.<br />
My thoughts rise up like<br />
birds up from the weeds<br />
thousands of birds rise and<br />
turn as one<br />
a great black whale of the sky<br />
which turns and swallows itself<br />
then up and over<br />
a giant mushroom cloud<br />
the birds turn as one to form<br />
a question mark before<br />
settling back into the weeds<br />
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Brian Bielefeldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09220431693253781416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-55055861384360395162014-10-02T11:50:00.000-07:002014-10-02T11:50:08.830-07:00Lighten the LoadTaking an inventory: what to get rid of?<br />
Black faux seal skin coat from Mother, long in her grave<br />
Black lace scarf now in tatters that she once wore to church<br />
Hair from dead husband, cut from his large lusty pony tail<br />
Nails used to hang me from the cross<br />
Quilt made from petrified tears<br />
Notebook containing dreams from 1982<br />
Notebook containing dreams from 1990<br />
Photos of people now long gone and forgotten<br />
Skull of tiny seabird found on the shore<br />
Mildewed bible with mouse nibbled corners<br />
Pressed flowers from first and only prom date<br />
Rubber band ball<br />
Love letter from first abusive boyfriend<br />
Love letter from first non abusive boyfriend<br />
Letter from Father where he says he loves me and I should be a good girl<br />
Tiny holographic eyeball that stares at me from a silver frame<br />
Wanting none of these things, they are put in a box<br />
and moved<br />
yet again to my new home<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9Na7xlKm7M4/VC2dLAtfuBI/AAAAAAAAAdU/Fbl7xDadxqw/s1600/DocImage85.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9Na7xlKm7M4/VC2dLAtfuBI/AAAAAAAAAdU/Fbl7xDadxqw/s1600/DocImage85.jpg" height="250" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />Tru Dillonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06897278695146373746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-43719642807804675772014-07-14T11:05:00.001-07:002014-07-14T11:05:57.874-07:00Ballast<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The boat chugged slowly<br />
around the headland<br />
cutting through choppy waves<br />
on its way to the harbor<br />
the customary seagulls<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GsP5k2GsACY/U8Qbi5Qw2EI/AAAAAAAAAW4/0kpWfvyXWLM/s1600/GreatBlack-backedGull-Vyn_090214_0028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GsP5k2GsACY/U8Qbi5Qw2EI/AAAAAAAAAW4/0kpWfvyXWLM/s1600/GreatBlack-backedGull-Vyn_090214_0028.jpg" height="144" width="200" /></a>sat on the cliffs and watched<br />
as if waiting for some dreaded event<br />
the boat waddled low in the water<br />
it would not clear the bar<br />
the sailors were throwing<br />
heavy sisal bags over the side<br />
ballast to lighten the load<br />
whatever it was the gulls just hissed<br />
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Brian Bielefeldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09220431693253781416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-92094274382587141052014-06-09T09:42:00.000-07:002014-06-09T09:42:39.616-07:00Faith<span style="font-size: x-small;">For my Friend Brian</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Faith is the Ballast</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Some use Water</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Others use Dragonwood</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;">Caricature of Lola Montez's departure for America</span></div>
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<br />Tru Dillonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06897278695146373746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-1836219826368551102014-05-20T15:07:00.000-07:002014-05-20T15:07:25.069-07:00Rondo in F<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The operator sits down<br />
a piano becomes a time machine<br />
she presses the keys<br />
and a message<br />
from the eighteenth century<br />
enters the room<br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--Nc21aJ5Uww/U3vRfg0O-3I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/YAKh-qZG8WM/s1600/Piano.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--Nc21aJ5Uww/U3vRfg0O-3I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/YAKh-qZG8WM/s1600/Piano.jpeg" height="133" width="200" /></a>although buried in an unmarked grave<br />
“Wolfie” as he was affectionately called<br />
etched out his thoughts<br />
into the wall of time<br />
<br />
sitting here, in this room<br />
listening to that message sent<br />
over two hundred years ago<br />
I write these words on electric paper<br />
a message folded and stuffed<br />
into a crevice in that same wall<br />
<div>
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Brian Bielefeldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09220431693253781416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-27814211299708957072014-05-17T20:07:00.000-07:002014-05-17T20:07:39.433-07:00Percussion<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">She is the Percussion</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">tick tock</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">click clack</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">jingle jangle</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Come to rattle yer cage</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Ha Ha no one is safe</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Kakoosh kakoosh</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">swish swish</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">peasoup peasoup peasoup</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Come to rattle yer cage</span></div>
<br />
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<br />Tru Dillonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06897278695146373746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-36457913352852295892014-05-09T11:46:00.000-07:002014-05-09T11:47:57.904-07:00The Apron<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I asked Mr. Google<br />
if he knew her<br />
if he remembered her<br />
he shrugged<br />
I’m sorry he said<br />
maybe if she had<br />
done something important<br />
or she was the mother of<br />
someone important<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iOFguPjJAxA/U20iE-gZu1I/AAAAAAAAAV8/XcwaMDrpOqs/s1600/aprons-floral-1109-de.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iOFguPjJAxA/U20iE-gZu1I/AAAAAAAAAV8/XcwaMDrpOqs/s1600/aprons-floral-1109-de.jpg" height="200" width="156" /></a>then I think there would<br />
be a line around here somewhere<br />
<br />
turning away I wanted to say<br />
I remember her<br />
the smell of soap and cooking<br />
imbedded deep in her apron<br />
as I grabbed on<br />
to steady my feet<br />
<br /></div>
Brian Bielefeldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09220431693253781416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-36661436872337021722014-05-06T16:40:00.000-07:002014-05-06T16:40:25.157-07:00Mother and Son<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
I'm sorry</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Its OK</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
I was so young</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
I know</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
How can you ever forgive me</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Maybe I never will</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Its OK</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
I'm sorry</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
I know</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
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Tru Dillonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06897278695146373746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-36028835761834387122014-05-03T17:27:00.000-07:002014-05-03T17:27:02.697-07:00The Stories We Tell<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A group of refugees with<br />
tired road-worn feet<br />
gather under a shading oak tree<br />
and after resting for a while<br />
started exchange their precious<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xpkF9fPd_Ug/U2WI1wuDSpI/AAAAAAAAAVo/TkxXin6q1Ik/s1600/oak+and+road.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xpkF9fPd_Ug/U2WI1wuDSpI/AAAAAAAAAVo/TkxXin6q1Ik/s1600/oak+and+road.jpeg" height="149" width="200" /></a> stories of home<br />
good soil, sweet water, old friends<br />
the perfect proportion of<br />
sunny days and gentle rain<br />
and after taking time to<br />
complain about their situation<br />
closed their eyes<br />
remembering days and places<br />
that never existed<br />
<div>
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Brian Bielefeldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09220431693253781416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-4351837785528751062014-04-28T11:30:00.000-07:002014-05-06T16:42:22.168-07:00No Perfection<br />
Today is a day like any other day in my postage stamp yard blinding with white sun<br />
Iridescent hummingbirds, royal purple petunias, green aphids and rusted rose leaves<br />
Exist side by side<br />
Floaty butterfly's are in decline while the ants quickly take over carrying their precious<br />
Jade like aphids from leaf to leaf spreading disease while they make sweet milk for the colony<br />
<br />
My life is expecting perfection; No fuck ups allowed<br />
<br />
I could have been a flower or bird or aphid or ant<br />
but stuck in human form<br />
watching—weighing—wishing<br />
There is no perfection,<br />
Only the acceptance of its non existence<br />
<br />
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<br />Tru Dillonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06897278695146373746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-45080822258490721302014-02-16T20:30:00.000-08:002014-02-16T20:30:15.167-08:00On Reading Love Poems<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
a human heart reaches for connection<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DD7FBfj9U-M/UwGP1otobmI/AAAAAAAAAUk/5xerluaWFB4/s1600/bridge+in+the+mist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DD7FBfj9U-M/UwGP1otobmI/AAAAAAAAAUk/5xerluaWFB4/s1600/bridge+in+the+mist.jpg" height="200" width="138" /></a>however brief, out of solitary exposure<br />
a bridge emerges from the mist.<br />
we set foot on uncertain boards<br />
without any sense of purpose<br />
the curtain stirs in the heat of promise<br />
not the safe tomorrow, that never comes<br />
“she loves me, she loves me not?”<br />
why ask?<br />
<div>
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Brian Bielefeldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09220431693253781416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-49588049789455256792014-02-13T02:30:00.000-08:002014-02-13T02:30:03.288-08:0014th Year in Cherryland<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">In the summer of their 14th year</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">that warm endless summer in Cherryland Park</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">his steely blue jeans melted </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">against her soft brown corduroys like hot metal magma</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">pushing her hard into the fresh cut grass</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">exciting her allergies</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">causing welts up and down her naked suntanned arms</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Red lacerations, later to be explained away with</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> I dont knows</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Absentmindedly itching the swelling cross-hatching's</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">until they bled</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">all the while thinking </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">of his tongue</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">and how cold it felt in her mouth</span><br />
<br />
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<br />Tru Dillonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06897278695146373746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-41300741166083832182014-02-08T17:29:00.001-08:002014-02-08T17:30:24.918-08:00Given Enough Time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
there are fourteen crossings<br />
between here and there<br />
pick one, just one<br />
you will, of course, regret your choice<br />
you always have,<br />
given enough time<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9aPC64nMD48/UvbY-e58N_I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/jrUvC-6HUnE/s1600/crosswalk.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9aPC64nMD48/UvbY-e58N_I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/jrUvC-6HUnE/s1600/crosswalk.jpeg" height="178" width="200" /></a>we all do,<br />
given enough time<br />
but today is your lucky day.<br />
this you will remember<br />
until Thursday becomes Friday<br />
by the weekend your joy<br />
will begin to thin and<br />
the face in the mirror<br />
will question certainty itself<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Brian Bielefeldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09220431693253781416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-66914121049070578802014-01-18T19:21:00.000-08:002014-01-18T19:21:29.075-08:00The Art of ClosureWalk<br />
Don't run when you see the signs:<br />
eyes that never really look at you<br />
a luminous body that does not glow<br />
words that speak of nothing<br />
<br />
If you are young it will be hard<br />
to see and read these signs<br />
<br />
Age can help define<br />
and justify the leaving<br />
<br />
Walk<br />
slow but deliberate;<br />
if you run you will get away<br />
too fast and wont learn the lesson<br />
<br />
On the other side is<br />
light and sound and air<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Tru Dillonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06897278695146373746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-42251458268504712882014-01-16T13:17:00.000-08:002014-01-16T13:17:26.781-08:00Ice Blue Eyes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
a single face among faces<br />
in a crowd on the street<br />
ice blue eyes, coffee colored face<br />
my heart stopped<br />
an instant<br />
then the blood began to flow,<br />
in earnest<br />
she knew she had this effect<br />
both on men and on women<br />
but didn’t understand why<br />
<br />
I didn’t look away<br />
as almost everyone did<br />
she didn’t blink, searching my face<br />
for some indication, some sign<br />
maybe I had the answer<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Brian Bielefeldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09220431693253781416noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-67475816161978282712014-01-10T14:29:00.001-08:002014-01-10T14:30:42.136-08:00El Capitan<br />
Arranged idly on his face<br />
two staring orbs of clouded blue<br />
<br />
His hand confessed to nothing<br />
while it pawed the ice cubed air<br />
<br />
Down below his palsied feet<br />
danced to a happy tune<br />
only he could hear<br />
<br />
"turn up the volume <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_Capitan" target="_blank">El Capitan</a>"<br />
he sang into deepest echoic space<br />
<br />
His lift off was successful and now he was free<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Tru Dillonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06897278695146373746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644083249200476105.post-36968106076353159012014-01-06T08:04:00.000-08:002014-01-07T10:55:26.828-08:00The Rubber Glove<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hTrvSldLDX8/UsrTVjHwv0I/AAAAAAAAATo/6YSqHte2S1M/s1600/37_1doctor_w_glove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hTrvSldLDX8/UsrTVjHwv0I/AAAAAAAAATo/6YSqHte2S1M/s1600/37_1doctor_w_glove.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a><br />
<br />
“You pointing your finger at ME?”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>a quizzical look on my face<br />
“You pointing your finger at me?”<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>in my best imitation of DeNiro<br />
while the doctor, smiling,<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>snapped on his rubber glove.<br />
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Brian Bielefeldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09220431693253781416noreply@blogger.com0