God showed up at the Sunday Jam disguised as Thelonius Monk

God showed up at the Sunday Jam disguised as Thelonius Monk
I could tell because Monk was a lot more harmonically sophisticated
Something God and me have in common
I told God, "you look more like Dennis Haysbert than Thelonius Monk"
God said, "how do you know?"
I answered, "I seen pictures"
Then God said, "I never was very good at deceiving people"
Sometimes God played guitar, sometimes God played piano
other times God played drums
God is definitely not a bass player
While we were jamming, people wandered in from all over
From Russia and from Africa and from Kalamazoo Michigan
Pretty soon the house was full up so people started sitting outside
near a window or a door
The deep sweet groove drifted out over the people
where it turned into love
It was just like Woodstock, only better
'cause it didn't rain
Everybody got a turn
Even the Rumor Bros. got to rap one of their raps
All the time they rapped, they pointed guns at the people
but that was ok, they didn't shoot no one
We played and played late into the night
Eventually, God had to go home because it was past God's bed time
One by one the people left
Back to Russia and Africa and Tupelo Mississippi
God never came back to the jam
I guess God has more important things to do
That's ok, I got to jam with God/Thelonius Monk

Sorry, the divine guidance you requested could not be found

So I go to godhelpmeplease.com, and I submit a prayer request on their form. Here's the response I got, "Sorry, but the content you requested could not be found"

God, that's not funny :(

Actually, that was pretty funny.

The Nothing

Motion past the nothing languished in hopeless, distressing perseverance toward oblivion Doubts cover the landscape as if duty were not a molested jinx The fire cannot persist into paralysis, nor display its fever in the corrupted destitute ignorance of peace I realize the fire is corrupted forever

More at "You May Not Read This Blog"

I post more often at "You May Not Read This Blog." To bad, you can't read it.

Wow it's almost been a year

Wow, it's almost been a year.

Between the Righteous and the Wasted

i was born on wild mountain
when the snow lay deeper than the blues
in the midst of the darkest winter
long before the weeping willows bloom

to this day, i don't know where i'm going
to this day, i don't know where i stand
between the righteous and the wasted
in a mystery hidden from the man

far away from wild mountain
there is a house riddled with decay
where my heart, so tired of groaning
turns to stone and whittles life away

to this day, i don't know where i'm going
to this day, i don't know where i stand
between the righteous and the wasted
in a mystery hidden from the man

when i die on wild mountain
if the sun is hidden from the day
take me down to the banks of jordan
let the water carry me away

on that day, i won't know where i'm going
on that day, i won't know where i stand
between the righteous and the wasted
in a mystery hidden from the man

(i suppose that technically, weeping willows do bloom. are the blooms remarkable enough for that image to be a strong one)

Where Did That Story Go

where in the world did that story go?
where in the world did that story go?
the one i promised i would tell you
the one i promised would be true
on the day we were set free

where in the world did that story go?
where in the world did that story go?
i have searched far and wide
i have looked for the signs
i have listened for a rhyme
where did that story go?