jaybeasley2

hello!
tonight is the great
good greetings and salutations
to you all!
we are the wonderful chosen
few to exemplify and
glory-by-us!
we have given you the very
best in not-giving-a-fuck
and bullshittery! we
hope that every one who
can feel this music
comes together as one community
and one grace! can there be a
reason any better than music,
dance, and genuine caring
to gather and celebrate life?
no. well then we
will talk and love out any
problem, and through
the love of the bass
we
will
be
the
future!

I saw you.
like a laminated letter, the
message was there but the text
was not clear, a mess of the ink
becoming lost in the meaning but
not a single word made clearer
in the ways that a person can see
sometimes deep within a brain a
person can make more work than
could ever be accomplished by
the hands, you knew I was here, here
for you even though you didn’t
know how much it was true, it
just took all of your energy to keep on
getting up in the morning and now that
you were having a better job in the evening
a whole better world had
opened its arms up to you
and if you knew when the champion of late
moon sparkle had planned to be here
then you would have acted differently
but now it is just the final flow of an
overworked crew, ranch hands and
waitresses and bartenders and cooks
with nothing better to do than collect
collect together, like leafs in a rain gutter
and they wouldn’t believe in the magic
if it walked up and asked for
the time

the passing days have

have always drawn me back to a word.

or haven’t you heard?

this metal I wear around my

neck is sentimental,  not philosophical.

it is fate we met in wet green

rain bridge lake park after it is dark.

I bought a blank bound book to

write to you, that bites true.

if calling with positive karma vibes will

be what you need, then you’ll feed.

when I am destroyed by evolved

longing, I shall sing.

before it becomes dark thinking

realistically, i’ll drink some tea.

while we waltz our dancing

selves back home, it would

be a great roam, sharing the ideas

and places we have been,

once or again, seen.

ready for the day
reading into everything
getting a good bit of time
on a trip to the experience that we
have been waiting to share
not without a care
here inside
we were posing to have
silly pictures taken
while the night sky
had bubbles in it
and the crowd was exactly as fun
and thrilling
as a forgotten date
or a rain out
of a day of joy planned on for so long
but why not go anyways
we are going because nothing will stop us tonight
and people we want
and places we want to be
and see
are right here in our arms

then it has come to this
I might as well stay up all night to
appease myself by getting that little
half an hour and coffee then
disregard the day from this time
to the bit after I have crawled
into the covers while you slept
watched your every move then went to
a faraway place in your mind to pretend we
got along without anyone and had moments
you do know that this sound is my cracked
heart held together by glue and muck
pleasing itself by scheming up a way to get
just a bit more of your thoughtful aura
otherwise the escape of personal
company could drag down the sun for analysis
I stifle myself by avoiding all speaking confrontations
but we should talk about what you
and I want and need to have
not that I can stand the repercussive actions it
seems I create then desperately betray
fresh air is a good idea

lighting up
making an insane person
out of a moon
a drift a dream
a place we miss
and say goodnight
to the five hundred
examples of the words
passed down
from generation to generation
frightened to admit
that the time at home with you
is so much better
much better than a night out
or a fancy dinner
or a concert waiting for another concert
but it is not the
day to do anything but be thankful
and enjoy
a nightlight

do you know what
you are doing to
the people who are close to you
or is this not even on purpose
and that would be worse
because I know that the
torture that can only be
self-inflicted
is the exact kind that
you helped make for yourself
and you have not been destroyed
and you act like your last hurt is responsible for
all the bad actions that
you do over the course of a week
don’t get to have much of an effect
on the life you
pretend to have
buried at the house you supposedly call a home
but you don’t know what you are wasting
by having dead brain cells
tell you what to do
yet we are only as strong as
the moment demands
and you are as impressionable
as a young duckling
but the relief of a life of strained tension
is not ignoring it
and those that care can only have pain
pushed in their face
so many times
before the last night happens
and then you miss them and wonder why
you were treated so bad
before the downfall of pleasure
reveals
you have been giving yourself over
to the kind of living
that isn’t really a life
at all

jetting over the dryness we cough and cringe
intimate as our new dogs are we, so similar
lofty ideals we determine by disruption
letting yourself off the hook with an excuse
dirty hands, happy yellow faded walls, pieces of me
am I that bad yet sympathetic wallpaper you loved
money-filled tribes war in this wet-kiss, blue-lipped land
now I must observe the filtered-in hugs and rings
sentimental value, a sunset, both undervalued today
isn’t that my heart, that stuffed pepper, that was misplaced
living it up was the purple days of lazy, drinking stares
votes mean nothing to the hopeless, lost, and found in
every spectrum of blatant emotion, doubtless
rolling my palms across your back, I wonder about all this

blank page
why have I
bothered to find your crisp cleanness
on the occasion of a ceremony starting
when the last rays of light float on
put on that spot, vocal sounds are pathetic
not sad but with due resolve
a beginning of a word never completed
a hint that has no secret behind it
above the cup
a pair of eyes lurks
below themes we lit on frozen electricity
that cold inspires yelling and dancing
like no song before or since
or slower travel when an emergency looms
focused on their distant future before
the hour is even half gone
birthdays are letting me see
they aren’t clapping and singing
they are a candle being
extinguished
same as any other
but it has its own existence