Adventure

The big train ride to New York City (with an afterword by my underpants)

So I was drinking and all that and
Had enough of Chicago at the moment
So I hopped a train to that big Ol' Apple they call New York City 
Biggest Apple I've ever seen
Nothing but a guitar a half-smile ya know
But that's about enough to get you any damn where in this world if you can perfect it
 
I went straight to the drink car and spent most of my money
All that booze and adventure propelled me those 23 and a half hours
And the kid next to me
Can't recall his name but I know he was from Yemen
Didn't speak a lick of English but that was alright 
We got along just fine
It was nice to have a shadow for a little while
A woman told me she repairs guitars and that I remind her of Hank Garland
I got nice and lubricated the first train-night and passed out in another passengers seat
Woke up to flashlights and yelling
I opened my eyes and looked out the window 
Thought I was in Europe
Castles and water and all those old things
Pulled into Penn Station and stepped my first feet on that New York City concrete
Harder than Chinese arithmetic that stuff
Wandered out onto 40-something'th street
Hailing a cab is a hell of a chore
Stood by a hotel and after some time a sketchy letter hand- off between my cab driver and an 11 year-old Asian boy who disappears into alley 
 I was on my way
Or so I thought
This was no blueprint trip
Off- the -cuff the whole way
No place to stay
But I figured SOME hostel would take me in
Little did I know ever damned hostel in the city was booked through the weekend
No plans
No disappointment
 As the old wanderer says
I went to a diner on Bowery
Got a grill cheese and a beer
Asked everyone around if they knew a place to lay my head
Hot lead from a passing by nicotine fiend
$225 a night!
Shit, I'll take it at 3 in the morning at this point
Wandering, guitar subway playing, made some money at least, Central Park, ecstasy on a rooftop apartment with 3 strangers, stopping in at every bar in Manhattan to try at least one beer,
 
It's not true
Everybody in New York City sleeps
Except me
(To be continued)....
 
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Fog

A walk in the dark; feels immense, never ending

Those days when the wind whispers lullabies gently

Engulfed in his thoughts, trees carry him off

The wood guides him to an obscure place in the fog

 

Surreal yet ominous; what it feels to linger here

Best not hamper the placidness, or be caught unaware

He winds upon a majestic tree and stops to stare

Realizing in awe how grand it really must be out there

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Within the far off landscapes of a dream.

Within the far off landscapes of a dream
where the mind crosses the void of rationality
into surreality
as the imagination flows like a bending winding
mountain stream
that we sail upon and journey
through the curtain of the unconscious
to release our deepest hopes as desires
that transpire
drwan from the rich tapestry of life.

Peter Dome.copyright,.2012.

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the experiments piece #1

Folder: 
naughty ramblings

i dig you deep in ways that i don't want to describe

things you think you see and say i hide

are not exactly what they seem to be,

and though you like to think that this is my influence and thought processing of you,

even though i consider you my boo,

you are so much more

including the not to be ignored

knowing you insures that i have endured more

than it seems or i'll admit

and has transpired

because our interactions keep my thoughts higher

and don't spit

it's even truer

sometimes when my thoughts go in the sewer

because there are fewer

willing to sift through what's true for what's real,

which is not about how i feel

or whether i can deal

but if this is in fact real...

is it real?

you think i conceal

out of fear that this will end

but that all depends

on what you want it to be

cuz for me

it is a good dream that is a glimpse into the space

right before i get to the place

that i dare not race for

i want summore

cuz parts of you i simply adore

and others i simply want to explore

until my checklist of getting used to you is torn into the many pieces

that only genius

can put back together

so i say it's whatever

and whether or not

you find me hot

never really mattered since you were my experiment

into the compliment of feeling content.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i will love this existence as much as the others...

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A Breeze

If I were able to toss and and swirl
about above the meninscus of the ocean;
I would love to be a dizzy little thing!
I would swoop and dip in and out again
over the tiny hollows of each little wave
till I whooshed up around and
riled up the sand with eddies at your feet
dropping the grains of glass pebbles like
a fluttering gift; dying down a little,
I would wrap my self around
your calves then climb up
and twine a track between, over, under
and through investigating every part of you
closely brushing and twisting around your torso
and winding by the nape of your neck
whispering gently as I hung about your lobes
lapping into your ears stories of where I've been
to look in hopes to find another half of me
and the winding twisting ease of which
life I find is, as a breeze I would trace across
your lips and and tickle you there gently
caressing and licking at the salt above.
I would dance around and invigorate
your body and travel all through your viens
and enter your mind where I would trace
a million thoughts of you so fine again.
I would plant a seed of hope and gently
water you in and say listen
to that whisper on the wind
calling you, that is your love searching
listen, let the wine of love breathe
and smell the sweet musky scent
as I leave and trace around you again.
in hoding every trace of you in my memory
making invisible shaped yous
as I travel back to sea and quitely
dance around waiting for you to breathe
the breath of love into me
through a little tiny breeze.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

its a draft but here it is none the less! hope you enjoy! :)

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Journey

Folder: 
Philosophy

Cold waves mark out the empty expanse of night sky -
thunderous vibrations
sharp, hard blasts of wind and rain
against this, a steady heart and steady hand.

 

The waves rumble onward -
the sound of a thousand mighty horses
waterous hills and valleys
in endless thirst.

 

Home to the ancient heroes of old -
the Spear-Danes in days gone by
by warmth of a hearth stone
by an old seaway.

 

To live a life of endless journey,
the fate of those whose hearts were as big as the world.

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