Urban Legends About Gino

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I am Everywhere at Once

I welcome all comments, criticisms, and discussions. Since I moved over all my old comments are gone.

Started Early

Started Early
Yes... I was the bad influence your Mom warned you about

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    Soundtrack to Gino's life (at the moment)


    Baker, Warrior, or Saint

    I hate to write in Numbers
    Always counting
    Finding clever ways to label
    Each passing year
    Today The Bakers Dozen
    Seems Fitting enough.

    Unseen Eternal battles
    Being waged across the Universe
    Fighting the Good fight
    Our Warrior fights on
    As days turn into Months
    And Months yield to Years

    Saint Michael’s Soldier
    Guiding his flock
    Protecting the rest of us
    From Evil,
    From Our own Darkness
    Offering Safe passage to the Light

    Baker, Warrior, or Saint
    Your spirit burns
    Through us
    Connected and Still Alive.
    We All still Live for You
    Tonight, and Forever



    On a filthy planet it lays in wait to consume the life of those with faith

    breeching only for the moon

    it bares fangs and dead yellow eyes

    this monster in my mind

    unknowingly it preys on you

    swallowing your hope

    inside the darkness you dwell

    till my beast within is hungry again


    Years and Tears by the Dozen

    12 years is a lifetime for many
    but only a moment
    for the Lost, left behind

    Today's unusual cold summer rain
    God's tears, with a purpose
    to cleanse our Souls.

    Wash away the sadness
    of a dozen years
    with a warm haze of memories

    Time battles to suffocate the pain
    surrounding it with positive thoughts
    of almost forgotten days

    Scattered, flashes of the past
    tethered through the Spirit
    that lives within us

    Connecting us all together
    a cosmic, eternal lasso
    binding us to you.

    For you, my Brother, I continue
    To Live, Laugh, and Love.
    Everyday is my memorial to you.


    3 Days

    Yeah, 3 days maybe more
    3 days, and I will knock on heaven’s door
    3 days, my vision will darken
    3 days, death’s call will hearken
    A wearied soul must wait
    for its healthy body to cooperate
    Prayers to God and pleas to heaven
    Unheard! Ignored? Forgotten?
    I will take my case to God
    And hope he tells me I am not so rotten
    I lived my life the way I thought I should
    Made tragic mistakes; outrun them I thought I could
    He gave me life, it is not mine to take away
    I will give Him 3 days to have his say



    cursing constellations

    two a.m.,
    the chill in the air
    circles like a nightmare.
    sitting on the roof,
    i'm waiting for a star to shoot
    in hopes of a better way out.
    the night sky
    is as ugly and empty
    as i am, a warm tear
    drys windblown
    because i know
    you deserved more.


    Last night Mike rode in on a meteor

    Tuesday, August 13th, 2002
    2:42 am Last night Mike rode in on a meteor. I seen him as the sky lit up, lighting the match of our last joint together. It's silly to explain the feeling I have about Mike when I know he's with me. It's not a feeling like God is with you, that at all times around type of thing. It's a feeling that when I close my eyes I'd be passing to the left, where he'd be if I just reach over. A feeling that his presence is Meant to be known. Letting me know that the thoughts in my head is really the dialog we'd be having in person- but it is his.

    Tonight I sat on my roof staring Northwest waiting for the next shooting star. The flash is orange fire, through the sky, dying to get TO the Earth. It's a contest I'd imagine, of which ones can survive the atmosphere. Only the toughest outlast and touchdown on the Earths soil most that make it only are lost to the ocean. . Who knows where that Extra Terrestrial visitor started off, and how old he is. I've been in awe of the Redwoods of California thinking of all the life they've seen, sightless, it's a number I can understand enough to respect. The equation to figure out the meteors age alludes the bounds of what my mind can distinguish in time. At 100,000 years or 1 million or 1 billion it really all means the same to me. Where that little chunk of rock fits in a time line of my 5th grade science project, I'm not sure.

    When you catch a shooting star- and yes the word is "catch", it's a gift. It connects itself to the viewer, usually one in a group of people, that shouts skyward, 'Did you guys see that!' Its fire creates a karmic bond with the lucky viewer, and by way of the viewers soul gives them a piece of energy that it brought to Earth with them. Some call this the part where you get your wish. But I know it as something different. As that energy fills your spirit, it's not a wish exactly. It's an understanding, a greater sense to oneself in the universe. For a second it all makes sense.

    The year after Mike passed I made good on my promise to make it across the country. As I am not one for arguing with the supernatural, I found myself in the desert of Arizona during the same Meteor show as tonight. The sky there looks like a planetarium without the big star wars machine in the middle. The sky is black and there must be 20 stars for every one we can see here, because there's no ground lighting like the NY bluish night sky has. Arizona's sky was lit up with thousands of stars that night, the weather was beautiful and a coyote howled yards away from us for effect. There was a shooting star every minute or so. It's places of Power mixed with incidents like this that fills me with energy. Makes me admit I'm an extension of the Earth which is alive all around us. I've felt the touch of this natural energy in many places, like San Diego, Baja Mexico, Niagara Falls, Virginia Beach, and there, in the under the desert's meteor strewn sky that night. Each of those places have more than their location that makes them an energy antenna. Times and occurrence play a big factor. But each of those stories is for another day.

    On an occasion where you share a sighting I think it's important not to only wish something, but to give a karmic nod to the other knowing you're sharing that meteors energy together.
    As I watched the orange streak of fire through the night my amber ember of a remaining joint I brought for the two of us, quickly lights then fades. The two lights at the same moment talking to me in a cosmic language that let me know- Mike is next to me waving his hand and throwing a star through the sky for me. His way of joining me on the rooftop tonight.

    Six years is a meteor flash, and the time it takes for a tear to fall from my eye to the ground.

    Be very quiet...

    The heat of the Night Sticks to me
    air conditioner struggling to please
    to ease
    the torture of the summer
    Bugs scream outside
    is it agony or is it my own
    that warps the sound
    from its usual low hum of life
    underlining the night
    natures own motor
    powered by
    fireflies lightning
    cicadas rumbling
    crickets jumping
    I listen closly
    the message is clear.

    The Union of Destiny and the Soul

    Infinite paths to choose from;
    And by the chance of Time, Place, and Opportunity
    The path may choose you.
    It’s important to listen closely;
    Because unlike Opportunity who simply
    Likes to knock on your door
    Destiny beats a drum;
    But distantly, calling your soul
    To follow the path and unite them
    Coincidences and chance happenings;
    They are road maps guiding us
    A propitious scout in the wilderness
    Nothing is Random;
    Don’t be fooled by Fate wearing a disguise
    He’s tricky, a prankster for all eternity,
    The Right path;
    Is laid out before you, feel destiny’s drum
    beating rhythmically, with your own hearts pulse.

    Pega-Pat the Constellation Shaped like a Panda Bear

    (How about a little scansion diminishing meter? line two is hendecasyllabic )

    The Days of our childhood fade into random memories
    A black and white film in my mind plays frames of
    Bowling, snow ball fights, and hopping fences
    That movie plays in my thoughts and dreams
    Over and over again, with a trembling smile
    That disguises the deeper sadness inside
    Is that you tapping me on my shoulder?
    Like Hermes the winged messenger
    Whispering that it’s ok for you now
    Are you traveling the cosmos?
    Exploring, Seeing, Moving
    Freely amongst the stars
    When we meet again
    We’ll sign the book
    Together this time
    I can feel you now
    Watching us


    Midnight Tripps through the Dark

    The night invades the mind
    With darkness and silence
    Leaving a body alone to ponder
    The path taken, leading to this moment.
    This road is scattered with milestones
    With the darkness for camouflage
    Hiding the truth,
    That most of them are headstones
    Each has their own story
    That the darkness whispers
    Forgotten tales of lives or loves
    Moments that will never live again
    But even without life
    The darkness acts like a movie screen
    Memories become silent movies
    Reruns of the best and worst episodes of our lives.
    Forever. My biggest fear
    The darkness. It surrounds me
    And now I’ve learned to live in it
    My only comfort.

    for jt

    2920 Windows

    On August 11, 1996 I lost one of my best friends. He touched me and the world in more than a million ways.
    Only the Good Die Young. Everyday of my LIFE
    I wonder where he is and what he is discovering. I hope that when I finally pass that threshold into heaven it is he who is waiting with open arms for me. I know you are smiling down on us, but I wish you were smiling next to us.
    So Where Ever You Are MY Friend, We miss you dearly, and not a day goes by without a memory of you passing through my thoughts.

    2920 Windows
    A Dark hallway with no walls
    On each side that isn’t there
    Hang rows of windows, Floating
    All with a view
    Each unique all though familiar
    Showing scenes of happiness, sadness, joy and pain
    Only one window stays open
    Until the next one is hung.
    Window number 2 and Window 2920
    And all spanning between
    Have one common trait
    That’s been missing since the first was hung
    Missing the laughter, the thoughts
    Missing the happiness and sadness, together
    Missing the light that the first window brings
    That keeps this hallway dimly lit
    Sadness washes over me
    Each time I visit the first window
    To catch up on a thought
    Or just a feeling not often remembered
    Calling out to you- I hoped you’d hear me
    Pleading for you to please come inside-
    But alas my words are only muffled by the cold window pane
    That’s has been closed since it was hung.
    I don’t like to visit the second
    A portrait of pain
    It’s the darkest in the hallway
    With coldness that touches the soul
    I hope that when this job has come to a close
    And I hang my last window
    That I’m giving the choice
    Which window I would like to go through on my exit
    2920 windows and counting
    the hallway grows
    but until the job is done
    each window is closed as the next is hung

    The Dreamer and the Dreamed.

    Hello again my long lost friend
    Those fleeting days of our songs
    carried by love and wind
    will be ours once again
    in days left to live.
    A familiar chain of scents
    and things we forget about
    most of the time
    but often
    find ourselves longing for in a way
    we can't describe.
    The days pass us by,
    the seasonal joys and misleading goals.
    Live to love
    And love to live I say.
    Dream to keep hope in your heart
    and remember
    the value of living each day.
    It is hard to live
    we all see sometimes
    we all lose ourselves but always
    will find a picture,
    a song of friends
    that are gone but memories we
    can't leave behind.
    It seems very strange
    wherever you are
    regardless of distance,
    no matter how far,
    I'll think of you always and love you
    forever my crazy beautiful star.

    Teddy Bear

    The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause. Who at the best, knows the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly." -Theodore Roosevelt

    Tears are a good chaser for Tequila

    What are the epic events in ones life that changes them forever? They can't be forecast, and most aren't even realized until after they've past. Unfortunately it's the one's that leave the lasting scar that weigh heavier then the ones who end with a smile or a tear of happiness. The heated tear of pain, fear or emotional calamity burns the cheeks flesh while permanently scaring the mind with every salted drop.

    Taxi Driving or New York though the eyes of the Dreamer

    When I go away from you
    The world beats dead
    Like a slackened drum.
    I call out for you against the jutted stars
    And shout into the ridges of the wind.
    Streets coming fast,
    One after the other,
    Wedge you away from me,
    And the lamps of the city prick my eyes
    So that I can no longer see your face.
    Why should I leave you,
    To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?

    Star Crossed

    An incandescent desire
    dancing the center
    stage of night.
    Oceans of sky
    envelop the fire.
    Bound by gravity
    and want,
    Alcor-Mizar we are.


    A mans sexual choice is the result and sum of his fundamental convictions.
    Tell me what a man finds sexually attractive and I will tell you his entire philosophy of life.
    Show me the women he sleeps with and I will tell you his
    valuation of himself...

    He will always be attracted to the women who reflects his deepest vision of himself, the woman whose surrender permits him to experience-or to fake-a sense of self-esteem. The man who is proudly certain of his own value, will want the highest type of woman he can find, the woman he admires, the strongest, the hardest to conquer-because only the possession of a heroine will give him the sense of an achievement, not the possession of a slut. There is no conflict between the standards of his mind and the desire of his body.

    Love is our response to our highest value-and can be nothing else

    sand castles

    every which way
    the wind demands.
    i am yours to rearrange.
    i am the sand
    within your hands.

    Schizophrenia (Or Velvet Descent)

    In this suspended darkness
    I gather to myself
    Pockets full of silence
    And hold them close
    Unable to pick-up the words
    Tugging at my mind and
    Tricking my tongue
    I will refuse your voice
    And turn your words away
    They aren't mine
    You have failed to see me as I am
    You imagine me this pure thing
    Some lucid creature of your own design
    Never seeing the heavy velvet
    That tangles my heart
    The heart that begs
    For your doubt and mistrust
    My soul
    I wear it with pride
    In this close strange place
    Where I meet myself
    And trade places
    Someplace in my dark
    You press your voice
    To the cloth of my mind
    "Have you ever
    Seen anything
    So possible as
    Beauty justified?"
    Your voice haunts me
    Then it's your hands
    You hold out to me
    For me to touch and take hold of
    But I can't
    I don't want to be in your saving
    Because once there
    I would linger amongst the shadows
    Of predictable emotions
    Better it is
    I stay encased in this velvet
    Waiting for you...
    To hear the words my heart wants to say
    The words that you will not hear.

    Riding out the Storm

    sitting alone in my dark room
    empty bottles strewn across the floor
    staring at my hands in despair
    trying to fight my silent war
    words echo through my head
    "just give it all it takes
    even the very best of the best
    have made some terrible mistakes"
    these words pierce the darkness
    a slim ray of hope shines through
    i would have given up, long ago
    if i hadn't have found you.


    It bothers me everyone knows the name Albert Einstein as being a great mind, but ask those people what he'd done and you more than likely get a blank stare into the sky and a reply of " ummm I know this... gimme a second... "

    "Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute; sit on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour-- that's relativity"
    Albert Einstein
    He who conquers others is strong; he who conquers himself is mighty.- LAO-tzu

    Pondering Dika

    i never felt so alone
    until i met you
    through that lens
    i watched you
    from a distance
    as you lived your life
    blissful in your ignorance
    and oblivious to my existence
    never knowing
    that i was watching
    unaware that only
    electronic distance
    kept us apart.
    Originally I was going to call this "My Cyber SnowGlobe" - which just isn't as deep- and I also scrapped "CyberStalking for Dummies" as it impresses a sinister aura when an innocent one was intended
    Pain is temporary, Glory is forever - Anon

    Paul Eluard

    Nelson Mandela's Inaugural Speech 1994

    "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ' Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?' Actually who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are born to make manifest the glory of God within us. It is not just in some of us. It's in everyone. And as we let our light shine we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
    Nelson Mandela's Inaugural Speech 1994

    Morning Light

    the pounding
    of my heart
    is speeding the pulse
    of the clock beyond midnight.
    i am drenched
    in the sweat
    of my latest regret
    when i fear morning
    is only hours away
    and i will see
    even more clearly
    in the pale
    of the dawn
    how much worse it is
    to break a heart
    other than your own.

    The Devil and Me Makes Three

    There are pathways through life and like a single candle in an eternal darkness we each seek to make our mark. We strive to contrast our surroundings never realizing there are shades of gray. Some people instinctively know their way while others stumble in the night. It is at those times when darkness reaches out a hand and reveals it is only a shield from reality. When we realize we must face the world as our own person and not what others want us to be, we falter. Humanity likes to neatly label feelings. Confusion and adolescence are only a few names for realization. To survive you must reach out and take what is offered. Fight to be uncovered from the darkness and the face the light of days. Ignore the rays of the sun that urge you to follow their way of thinking. Then you will have made your mark by being an individual.


    another night
    slides down the wall,
    caressing the crevices
    and quiet corners.
    an invalid,
    in a beautiful bed,
    i observe
    night's lengthy
    and lonely descent.
    i am allowing myself
    to be abused
    by insomnia's underworld,
    but yet i feel
    somewhat blessed
    to be best friends
    and the devoted witness
    of every lunar movement.

    King of Halloween

    If I could be anything besides human I'd be an 8 Foot owl.... I'd be able to turn my head all the way around... and not worry about parking... and anyone I don't like gets a present sent airmail....You know you'd think in the modern era of technology and cloning they'd be able to create one of them. It would be awesome to own one as well as be one. You could ride them like a horse... just think about Halloween... get on your owl with a carton of eggs and you'll be the king of Halloween...


    i have this
    like there’s
    in the air
    around her,
    telling me
    to look harder,
    beneath the surface,
    like some variety
    of prophesy
    telling me
    she’d be
    worth the energy.
    she has
    those sort
    of ocean foam
    eyes that
    to pierce
    the soul.
    i wonder
    what it is
    shes sees.
    i want to know
    all that
    she nows.

    K.T. Jong

    The Summer of Four Foot Two

    When girls meant 'yuck'
    and friends were new
    Dreams were unshattered
    and worries few
    When recess was too short
    and life too long
    Decisions came easy
    without the need to belong
    When storks delivered babies
    and passions weren't so strong
    Friendships were unbroken
    right was right, wrong was wrong.
    When farewell meant just for summer
    and real friends didn't part
    The fun went on forever
    and never left a broken heart

    illusion of future

    The eye-blue sky
    is showing off
    all of its seventy-six
    as the barely-there breeze
    brushes fragments of autumn
    off of the sidewalk.
    Yellows and reds are only
    mindless illusions
    of future,
    and for the moment
    they are serving
    to flavor this Indian Summer
    I see him everywhere

    I spend a lot of time trying not to be "that guy"
    I drive way too fast to worry about cholesterol

    I just love to use the word ostensible

    Like all great novels, Watership Down has both an ostensible subject and an real one. Ostensibly, the book is about a group of surprisingly rational rabbits. Man, however, is the rational animal, and Watership Down is a transplanted tale of the human spirit--a story of courage, resourcefulness, survival, and heroism.
    Below is a section of the novel that I loved.
    It is an untitled poem by Silverweed, a rabbit who lives in a very peculiar sort of warren. The rabbits there are all well-fed and comfortable; they have little to worry about in the way of predators, and food seems to miraculously appear wherever they look for it. Every so often, though, a rabbit vanishes without a trace... The warren has tacitly agreed never to discuss such matters. Silverweed was the poet of the Rabbits. He tests the boundaries of this silence in his poetry, which is what's made him popular in the Warren. "Frith" is the sun, a God to the rabbits.
    The wind is blowing, blowing over the grass.
    It shakes the willow catkins; the leaves shine silver.
    Where are you going, wind? Far, far away
    Over the hills, over the edge of the world.
    Take me with you, wind, high over the sky.
    I will go with you, I will be rabbit-of-the-wind,
    Into the sky, the feathery sky and the rabbit.
    The stream is running, running over the gravel,
    Through the brooklime, the kingcups, the blue and gold of spring.
    Where are you going, stream? Far, far away
    Beyond the heather, sliding away all night.
    Take me with you, stream, away in the starlight.
    I will go with you, I will be rabbit-of-the-stream,
    Down through the water, the green water and the rabbit.
    In autumn the leaves come blowing, yellow and brown.
    They rustle in the ditches, they tug and hang on the hedge.
    Where are you going, leaves? Far, far away
    Into the earth we go, with the rain and the berries.
    Take me, leaves, O take me on your dark journey.
    I will go with you, I will be rabbit-of-the-leaves,
    In the deep places of the earth, the earth and the rabbit.
    Frith lies in the evening sky. The clouds are red about him.
    I am here, Lord Frith, I am running through the long grass.
    O take me with you, dropping behind the woods,
    Far away, to the heart of light, the silence.
    For I am ready to give you my breath, my life,
    The shining circle of the sun, the sun and the rabbit.
    Main Entry: os·ten·si·bly
    Pronunciation: -blE
    Function: adverb
    Date: 1765
    1 : in an ostensible manner
    2 : to all outward appearances

    I don't know anything about Proteins.

    Hidden Tangents

    Sparks of electrical pulses surge ceaselessly connecting the world putting a tangible value on transcendentalism...

    one thought.

    it's a little treasure I found locked in the back of my mind that I tripped backward head over foot trying to find sleep.

    i get scared that there are cobwebs that shroud those treasure chests. They lie hidden in a corner of my mind like a forgotten LaCrosse jacket with my name stitched in cursive from high school that I look at only when moving thing around the attic, searching with a flashlight. Even though I feel sad to know these places of my mind aren't in regularly visited, it's also like the jacket. It's only meant for those brief moments of springing intense happiness on me. Things will do that for me. It's those bursts of happiness, trivial to some, that tie together the mundane of everyday.

    fill time up

    colored tea-stained
    circle like a cyclone.
    it is a transparent
    explanation about how
    nothing stays the same.
    we sit behind the building
    on a cold bench and exchange
    idiosyncratic observations
    about how brittle leaves behave.
    we banter about the display
    of the world to fill time up
    because we cannot talk of love.

    Fate's Tangled Web

    A long time ago
    Someone once said
    Fate is a tangle
    Follow one thread
    I've finally sorted
    Through knot after knot
    Picked a thread
    Followed it to the top
    It lead me to you
    To your smiles and cheer
    You made me revalue
    Things i used to hold near
    Fate is a tangle
    Follow one thread
    Without you here
    I know I'd be dead

    Gino's Soundtrack of Life

    believe that there's a reason for each meeting, every chance encounter, and coincidence even though its usually not realized. The evolution on Man's mind and spirit is quickened by the exercise of seeking out the meaning, the reasons, or the lesson learned.
    My diner chit chat with Dika last night was the latest I was pondering. Besides good karma and a bowl we shared thoughts from California Redwoods to She-Ra the Princess of Power. Back to the reason... Dika mentioned a movie she'd thought I may find interesting, Wonder Boys. The story was excellent and I recommend it to any fan of eccentric writers (let's face it, that's just about everyone reading this now) But it was the soundtrack of the movie that made me love it. Leonard Cohen, John Lennon, Van Morrison, and a lot of Dylan. I think every good story should have a good soundtrack. As my own story of life writes itself there's a constant soundtrack in my head. Sometimes it's the Beastie Boys, Sublime, or the Theme to Superfly, it's constantly changing depending on my mood, environment, and the laws of nature. The unfolding story of life helps me realize that it's a ride not a race. And every good ride needs good music. That's why you'd go on the Gravitron instead of the teacups at Great Adventure. Sure you're going to the same level of gyroscopic nausea from both but in the Gravitron you can Jam to 80's hair band music so loud you can't hear the pale kid next to you puking on himself as it sticks to him for 3 minutes and 32 seconds until the ride finally stops. Ok maybe gravitron isn't the best ride to compare life to.
    So what was the importance of my Mozzarella stick meeting? I think it was to come away with this story ... It's about rival gangs of Queens. Back in the early ninties there was a turf war going on. The battle was for the Pear tree. When ever the pears came in season the Squirrels would pull them off their branches, take one bite then drop them to the ground, callously wasting the entire pear. This would of course make them inedible, (even though the slow kid up the block kid must have got dared to eat one of those nasty old pears that was one day rotting on the lawn) So the enraged rival gang... let's call them the Dikettes (to protect the innocent) would climb that tree a month before the pears were ripe and swipe them from the squirrels...
    I thought on the situation for a while, and tried to figure out who was the hero and who was the villain. It's easy in a story like She-Ra where you that the evil forces of Hordak are the bad guys. How ever in our little tale I think you could focus it and make either one our victim. The poor squirrels without enough to eat for the long winter (summer?) ahead or the rabid little rats ruining all the fruit for the children in the neighborhood. It's more like a Quentin Tarantino movie, without a true hero. Where the bad guys are the god guys, and you don't know who's the hero. Did the Dikettes take the fruit for spite? Did the squirrels laugh as they took one bite and let the rest fall to its death? Is a day old half squirrel eaten pear ok if you kiss it up to God?
    I'm not sure I have answers, but I certainly know that If I were to be part of the pear swiping gang the Theme music to the Pink Panther would be playing as I snuck up the tree....

    This post brought to you by the letter I for Insomnia
    and the number 420

    Emotional Backpack

    i know
    you don't
    carry the weight
    of what was
    around with you
    the way i do.
    i hope at least
    i earned
    a fragment
    of your sadness
    and perhaps
    a sleepless night
    What we are today comes from thoughts of yesterday and our present thoughts build our life of tomorrow; Our life is the creation of our mind -Buddha

    Being a Best Man is all about a good speech

    Hello everyone. My name is Gene and today I have the Honor of being Mike’s Best Man. First I want to thank both the bridesmaids and groomsman for helping make this wedding a wonderful & memorable occasion. Each one of you put in a tremendous amount of time and effort and as everyone can see you helped create a wonderful event! (START APPLAUSE.) And I can’t continue without saying how beautiful Mora looks tonight. She’s the perfect bride… isn’t she?
    I also want to thank all of you who have traveled from out of state or the country, to join Mike and Mora on this special day- it’s amazing how far people will go for an open bar. Your presence is truly appreciated and the wedding would not be the same without each of you here.
    I think everyone agrees that it was a beautiful wedding. Unfortunately, the downside is you have to listen to me speak for a few minutes. Mike, I personally want to thank you for the opportunity you’ve given me today and especially that you have finally admitted after all these years that I am in fact the “best man”.
    A little history about Mike and I- In 7th grade my family moved down the block from the Cannons- Mike was the first kid I met in the neighborhood… From that point on we we’re close to inseparable… We were a good team…Mike had the greatest talent for figuring out how to get us into trouble… and it was my job to figuring out how to get us out… We also worked together at just about every teenage job you can imagine... We were paperboys, gas station attendants, worked at the car wash together, and our favorite– the beer distributor……ahhhh, all that beer, I mean, um, hard work and diligence- this is where we built our work ethic. Besides working hard outside of school Mike graduated 11th in our senior class, and in very close race, was voted best hair, ironically the entire right side of his head was shaved off…
    During our college years, we attended different schools. Mike landed himself at University of Scranton, in Pennsylvania, where I would go and visit him on the weekends. At Scranton, Mike met many of the friends that are here with us tonight, and I think they will all agree with me since Mora has made it this far If I start telling stories from his college years I might scare her away on her wedding day. For the sake of Mike’s honeymoon I’ll keep them quiet.
    After college, Mike decided to move to California. I, was of course, sad to see him go. But I knew it was the right decision when he turned to me one day before he left and said, “California is where my dreams are waiting for me” And Apparently, he found his dream. He met Mora…Mora, you make Mike happier than I have ever known him to be and I thank you for that. Please take care of him- he needs it. In truth, I couldn’t have asked for a better friend. Mike has always been more like a brother to me than a best friend. I can only hope that I have been half the friend to Mike that he has been to me.
    Before I finish my speech, I’d like to ask you both to do something for me… Mora, I would like you to place your hand, palm side down on the table in front of you- Now, Mike, place “your” hand on top of Mora’s hand. Mike, want you to remember this very moment Because this is the last time in your life, that you will ever have the upper hand.
    Finally, it gives me great pleasure to invite each of you to stand, raise your glasses with me, and offer the new Mr. and Mrs. Cannon a toast of congratulations! Here’s to a new beginning- a life of happiness, health, adventure and love! – To you both

    A wink and a wish.

    she's on top
    and i'm under.
    we flip-flop
    when it's over
    we lie and we love.
    we profess, and cry
    it's never enough.
    how is it
    that we are
    so successful
    at being failures
    to each other?

    A Tree shows signs of Trauma in its rings

    The progression of time leaves behind a wake of morbid anniversaries that torture the soul. It’s inevitable, the only way to avoid this is to become one of these memories. My mental calendar is scarred with dates of lost friends, family, and heroes. Last evening I felt strength in my sadness for Our friend Stitch. I know he was up there casting a spiritual flood gate to hold back my tears. I wasn’t sure why I felt so strong, as my usual reaction on a two year anniversary of losing someone is a river of tears flowing into my beverage. But alas, here I was wondering if Stitch and O'Leary were passing a joint looking down on all of their friends trying to shield the sadness. It was the strength of my friends' voices today sharing my pain, which had lifted my spirit and kept my sanity in check. I drifted to sleep trying my best to have my thoughts reach Stitch like a magical game of telephone.
    On a visit to Scranton PA, I ran into Stitch when I pulled in. I stopped and he helped me try to locate Mike Cannon, who was no where to be found... Not unusual... So I wound up with Stitch all night walking around town party to party, searching for Mike, and by the 4th place we had forgot we were looking for him. At the 6th place we got to Mike was there and wondering what had took me so long... It was in Stitch’s nature to take care of people. That night wasn’t a random event, it was who He was. We just mask the importance of the kind of person he was by remembering it as a great night we partied together, and not saying he "took care" of me that night. And at 20 years old- most of us needed taking care of.
    Almost pushing 30 those days seem like yesterday. And I appreciate that Stitch is still looking out for me.

    A Dai in my Life

    Sharing your words
    perfectly placed and hypnotically charged
    verbal brain food
    swirling together sharp images
    connecting to form your Thoughts
    Sharing your Thoughts
    together on a cosmic adventure
    painting vivid murals
    overlapping the shared boundary
    that’s connected by our Dreams
    Sharing your Dreams
    more than words telling this story
    keeps me hanging
    watching every small movement
    each breathe leaving your Body
    Sharing your Body
    the reaction effects all senses
    stirring chemical impulses
    decoding a secret equation
    already known within our Souls
    Sharing our Souls
    walking euphoric with each other
    bound throughout time
    pulled together magnetic drawn.
    united again in this Life

    Mask of the Impostor

    A faded memory haunts
    A small unvisited room
    In the back of her mind
    Closed in a book, unread
    The volume it fills
    Would be too heavy
    To carry if written
    Instead held on the shoulders of the past
    One night, can show you the world
    Connecting vibrations
    One moment, eyes locked
    Can be a life time lived
    A swirl of coincidence
    Opens the book
    Unfolding the story
    Almost forgotten
    Pleasure yields to pain
    As truth shines
    Tears rain
    Memories are too ephemeral

    The Good Fight

    I’ve lived a lot in my 21 years
    Seen a lot and cried many tears
    Bound by fortune, beholden to fate
    Rescued by love, thwarted by hate
    I walk my path, on the Earth I tread
    At the end of the journey I will be dead
    In between I must figure it out
    Truth, Strength and Love I can’t live without
    Fight the good fight as the warriors say
    Die the good death on its appointed day

    Party in the Sky

    Party in the Sky
    It’s 6:14 am. Mike woke me a 5:30 today
    There is no definition on what a person is. But what separates Mike from my fatal vision of The AfterMIKE (a way to measure time, which is much like aftermath, but way more gnarly.) is the SOUL. The Aura of a soul can not be faked, plagiarized or facsimiled. Staring or simply window shopping through Mike’s eyes you could tell that. He was both a Warrior and a Poet.

    My excitement for the Future is waning. Its seems like I am watching my life on ABC’s After school Special. I’m the scared friend who wanders through the whole episode blaming himself even though everyone tells him he shouldn’t . I talked out loud to Mike whenever I am alone. For some reason this seems perfectly logical to me. Just like we were sitting in the O’Leary Mobile.

    I am now 22 years old. Every person has something that scars them the most over their lives. For me I think ( and pray) that it just happened. I still have another 2/3 of my life to live. When I go to heaven will I remember Mike? Will his features still be etched in my mind so detailed as they are when I shut my eyes? Is going to heaven like getting off a plane in the Airport. You gotta look around to see who’s picking you up. I’ll be an old man by then, maybe Mike won’t want to pick me up. He will already have explored the universe without me. I wish we could do it together. He’s the first of my brothers to go. He’s got to be a little lonely for one of us.
    Follow Up:
    7 years since writing this. Another ¼ of my life passed by. I read it and realize that Mike isn’t lonely anymore. I’ve had the bad luck of losing more of our friends, while he’s enjoyed the good fortune of having them added to his party. I still wonder how it’s going to go down in the end. Will everyone be waiting like a welcoming home party? Do you see friends who I’ve lost and only knew briefly? Is there a determining factor in who greets you (if all the went into the light and came back people aren’t pulling a hoax the likes of Bigfoot)? Are my relatives and friends going to be playing paper, rock, scissor celestially to figure out who has to come get me? I’m putting in my request now for Mike… So make sure you’re not playing golf with Hendrix that day.
    And I am Happy to report my excitement for the future is tremendous.

    October Night

    October Night
    Gentle dark silence
    In the crisp October atmosphere
    Thoughts float effervescent
    Lying on one’s back
    Wistful dreams and fancies
    Are borne upwards to heaven
    And in October the air replies
    With the soothing voices
    Of the angels bringing
    All your dreams
    Unto you

    The Touched

    Wise Prometheus who dared to give man the flame
    Praised Jesus who sought to cure the lame
    Noble Alexander who closed the world in his palm
    Gentle Gandhi who cultivated respect, love, and calm
    Great Sages and tragic heroes fill the catacombs of legends
    Our cries, our pain, our salvation we beg the creator of heaven

    Lucky Shirt

    Michael has become my Saint Michael… and with his powerful wings I can sometimes feel myself lifted from the ground. With his sword I feel protected from everything. But in the picture in my mind- to picture Saint Michael is also to see him smiting the Devil to Hell. And following this analogy I guess Michael is obviously Saint Mike- and I guess I’m the world that he’s saving from the evil… and the Devil represents the negative things I have to deal with- like hating work, being annoyed about money, wanting to be in a different place and the various other negative things swallowing my life force whole on a daily basis.
    Or maybe I’m the Devil and it’s Mike saving me from myself (trying?)… his sword representing what happens if I don’t follow the right way… it’s not quite worthy of a Samuel Jackson soliloquy- but when I figure it out It will be…
    Back to Mike. I was thinking of him on Friday before I was about to play some cards after a horrible week of work… I starting searching all my closets and dresser for the shirt he left me… a not so stylish brown flannel with a weird collar… after a frantic search when I thought it was gone – I found it in the back of the closet… I wore the shirt he “gave” me the last day we spent together. I haven’t taken it off since Friday night. The streak of good cards I’ve had has been phenomenal and I know I have him to thank for it… and I’ll willing to bet a few others are helping him- well helping me, as well. And this weekend I had one of my greatest winning sessions- of which i owe all to the shirt.
    I can feel him especially at times like when I’m sitting at a poker table- talking to myself? No- I’m asking Mike what cards they have… And he’s telling me.
    Crazy because at this very second – Pictures the Matchstick Man comes on… I was writing this to the third in our trinity of friendship, Angelo... and you'd think the song came on as a sign...
    I offered up the magic shirt for his upcoming Vegas Trip...
    It's what great stories are made out of.

    *** Luck Update... Gino won $24,000 wearing Mike's shirt check me out on www.thepokerdb.com (it's free) look me up I'm EchoMed

    The Forever forward sun

    Want so close, seems not far
    The Forever forward sun
    elusive, running
    Catch up, grabhold; the star.
    Slip the pure heart's embrace
    Hunted down, a prize
    Pray to God, beg for grace
    Thou shalt not lose the race
    Always yearning for the touch
    felt, tasted
    Wanting so much
    It seems like walking distance
    always so near
    almost have it
    thinking, running from afar


    Mac And Cheese

    I'll be moving all of the content of the original Mac And Cheese site

    And if this is a first visit - You missed the original

    sorry for the delay

    Coming soon...

    The Dark

    i lie in the pit of darkness,
    where i was left to die.
    i think to myself,
    and wonder why-
    i was cursed with life.
    slicing myself open with a butter knife,
    all i can feel is my numbness for life;
    all i can find is nothingness;
    yet all i can see is you-
    imprinted on my empty soul-
    stomping and kicking, begging me
    to let go.
    whereas i am here now,
    i wish i was there then;
    fighting the battle of life,
    instead of living dead,
    and only in my head.
    pondering on the thought of being alive;
    images flash through my mind,
    making me wonder why,
    i don't get a chance at life.
    wishing i was someone else;
    somewhere else...all i can say,
    is... maybe someday

    Royal with Cheese

    Royal with Cheese
    Royal with Cheese - Chuck Norris’ hand is the only hand that can beat a Royal Flush. Luckily, he wasn't playing.