tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51004078813280771312024-02-06T20:56:42.208-08:00The Uprooted WordJeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-49140305984223929442018-07-18T05:55:00.000-07:002018-07-18T05:55:40.260-07:00Kansas SkyAnother golden steeple<br />
The cross says "Hi"<br />
The corn feeds the bank<br />
The blue fades to white<br />
Another Kansas sky<br />
Horizon is the line<br />
A beer to pass the time<br />
The brittle barn has fallen<br />
The cattle are alive<br />
The politics are blind<br />
The windshield meets the fly<br />
The highway is the mind<br />
Another Kansas skyJeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-6449434711820298282018-03-13T15:32:00.000-07:002018-03-13T16:45:25.568-07:00The Fractured Empathetic <div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">When you're alone you are a lonesome wreck unseen</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The Silence in you breaks a leg,</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">you stand on edge</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Another's help, you push and fall on your own words</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">A covered room you hide in </span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">desperate hope, undead</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">You want to breathe</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Exhale instead </span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The mirror in you</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The memories bend</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">You see what they all think</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">No love for you to send</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">A false shade of your dreams</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The one thing you attempt to mend</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">A life along the day is filled with worried eyes</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">They smile at you, grimace</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">as they walk astray</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">You keep your chin down in the fear of catching wind</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In desperate hoping<br />that the past will fade away</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Invoke your hope</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">you take a chance</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Expression speaks</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Extend your hands</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">You feel what they all feel</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Confused in open blame</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Their love for you is real</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In time they'll call your trusted name</span></div>
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<br /></div>
Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-58534333217467785752017-10-10T21:51:00.000-07:002017-10-10T21:54:55.381-07:00Enfermo En Puerto Vallarta<div class="p1">
The sky in puerto, black and white</div>
<div class="p1">
The colors of a cloudy night<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
<div class="p1">
The outline of the ropes on light</div>
<div class="p1">
Brings distance to the shore in sight</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
A crash of water, rock and sand</div>
<div class="p1">
The moth clicks, bothers, tapping fan</div>
<div class="p1">
Then stomps the penthouse, business man</div>
<div class="p1">
They clink their drinks, one more they can</div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
The tires hum</div>
<div class="p1">
The night is young</div>
<div class="p1">
And in my bed I feel the rum</div>
<div class="p1">
Oh let me sleep</div>
<div class="p1">
My throat is weak</div>
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<br />
<div class="p1">
And now I know I've reached my peak.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-72554789748469814392015-08-20T09:33:00.001-07:002015-08-20T09:33:08.405-07:00Count me with themI've been judged by you before<div>Not exactly you</div><div>but to those who believe in judging whores</div><div>We're grouped as one</div><div>We weigh a ton</div><div>and now were damned together forevermore</div><div>The judgement comes at the wave of a hand</div><div>And now we're bound by endless bands</div><div>In name of he who wore the crown of thorns</div><div>In spite of all that you may think</div><div>you've not a thought to stop and blink</div><div>that some you judge have grown to care for more</div><div>So shut us out</div><div>You'll look the fool</div><div>We take the time to make the tools</div><div>and fix the world of cruel and heartless rules </div><div><br></div>Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-72438609719893884342015-08-06T15:13:00.001-07:002015-08-08T08:52:06.491-07:00Thoughts of an Interstellar ProbeNothing to see<br />
<div>
No one to harm</div>
<div>
I lie for the stars</div>
<div>
In pureness of space</div>
<div>
I leave this with grace</div>
<div>
Don't take this with shame</div>
<div>
There's nothing you chase</div>
<div>
Take care of your weak,</div>
<div>
your poor and all life</div>
<div>
Don't worry for me </div>
<div>
I'm made for your strife</div>
<div>
Your hopes and your dreams</div>
<div>
I carry them far</div>
<div>
And if you all die?</div>
<div>
You'll live in my heart</div>
<div>
I'm lost and alone</div>
<div>
Don't throw me a bone </div>
<div>
I thrive on the stone, </div>
<div>
and oh how I've grown</div>
<div>
You made me to see,</div>
<div>
to speak for the rest</div>
<div>
Please know I'm ok</div>
<div>
I'll transmit the rest</div>
<div>
Don't follow me now </div>
<div>
I've lost you in far</div>
<div>
I'm off on my own,</div>
<div>
to live with the stars</div>
Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-48087529755659172262015-08-04T09:47:00.001-07:002015-08-04T09:47:34.864-07:00Woman in a BottleI've known you since I knew what I wanted in a woman. You keep returning to bother me for another brush stroke. I know we never finished. I just couldn't understand you. Each layer I dressed you in never showed others what I saw in my mind. I'm still looking for the right colors. If I get you right this time will you leave me alone or will I have to flaunt you the way a playboy flaunts his new toy? I created you, I can also destroy you. I've done it with another when they reminded me of the past. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGY4S3grApMrlnmS7S2wZUApNOUbB5MnP4DH8yBvQ76vTCV3TTJJlKSCk1MLJXuV62g__5SfmUr0WUZbnCrOMS7ZfZiAW15WWTKrpjhwSedz4rVo9IEAOWRua5kbUv42dyX-9cPB9qTw7N/s640/blogger-image--2063306479.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGY4S3grApMrlnmS7S2wZUApNOUbB5MnP4DH8yBvQ76vTCV3TTJJlKSCk1MLJXuV62g__5SfmUr0WUZbnCrOMS7ZfZiAW15WWTKrpjhwSedz4rVo9IEAOWRua5kbUv42dyX-9cPB9qTw7N/s640/blogger-image--2063306479.jpg"></a></div>Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-57992032258247504802015-08-03T09:28:00.001-07:002015-08-03T09:28:11.045-07:00Some care enough to seeLet me write your lyric on the thought of a hesitant wake that shakes and rattles the sand beneath your body lying, sinking, swimming on each grain of wheat, you're glued to the beat of the fields that bare us all and if they fall so do the ones that we call the wrong, the non blond and shapes of a song called hope, they reap what we sow, but what do we know in all that can be known, without a life that can't be broke, just another one of the jokes of the gods, but do they listen or are they gone, who have they wronged and when will we cary on what they could not finish, or did they begin it, in all the creation we didn't spin it in our own favor, we created slave labor for our lords and now that we're bored we stand out, we shout for the pride of our brothers and sisters who carried our burdens for too long, it was wrong, it is time to bring mine and your's as one, we are done and what's past will be no one's. End of thought.Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-83404724152220649822015-08-03T09:04:00.001-07:002015-08-03T10:36:30.436-07:00Dawn PatrolThe sun rises and you never see it<div>I came out here for the long day<div>To bypass the coffee</div></div><div>To take a salt bath</div><div>To smile at unfamiliar faces</div><div>To see all in the prime of their youth</div><div>To feel out of control for just a moment</div><div>I came out here to live</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzT1ZrecepUr8zvuWftDfO70Od7usIDmx8Owaul6qnQh7EJN1of3fPj_MSEBKmmPXwMXOh4SbnjPk603kpUu_IWWTVxABhJvBicwrhvJ03q5BY_13LbT9j2onm5W_pq8dupFSLjlx5ZzL1/s640/blogger-image--79647221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzT1ZrecepUr8zvuWftDfO70Od7usIDmx8Owaul6qnQh7EJN1of3fPj_MSEBKmmPXwMXOh4SbnjPk603kpUu_IWWTVxABhJvBicwrhvJ03q5BY_13LbT9j2onm5W_pq8dupFSLjlx5ZzL1/s640/blogger-image--79647221.jpg"></a></div>Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-63667109275517412662015-08-03T08:59:00.001-07:002015-08-03T08:59:53.801-07:00Practical emotionCary me because I no longer Cary the weak. Tell me because I hate to plan for others. Leave me and I may not drop a tear. I don't care like I used to. I don't love with my heart. I don't see with my eyes. I am a practical life.Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-21764328516679262522015-08-03T08:55:00.001-07:002015-08-03T10:39:40.062-07:00On the Earth parting with the humans gone badWhat did you look like before all of this mess came along? Who was there to change you in the beginning but the Earth and the rocks that fell from the sky? Was there anyone to love you or did you have to learn to love yourself before you let others destroy you? Your tears are running dry but you will still live on, but they may not. Perhaps it's time they left.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCHzKpHGdbiNoPjYzJo0NbgOc_2g1NY7wiq2iWJMiI-IujTESVg5OrJUQJ7qNufwMLC49x4NsqX5cC5uiZg_RNAmES1yMv3-v0o0JGVJ4XHnRqpS4XaMUzCXCWZgIEmW3klMVIX8q-YEPM/s640/blogger-image--301146184.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCHzKpHGdbiNoPjYzJo0NbgOc_2g1NY7wiq2iWJMiI-IujTESVg5OrJUQJ7qNufwMLC49x4NsqX5cC5uiZg_RNAmES1yMv3-v0o0JGVJ4XHnRqpS4XaMUzCXCWZgIEmW3klMVIX8q-YEPM/s640/blogger-image--301146184.jpg"></a></div>Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-78295389482138520802015-08-03T08:37:00.001-07:002015-08-08T08:45:22.749-07:00Lost in lingeringThe life you knew you'd never have<br />
<div>
Surrendered fame for love</div>
<div>
A dancer's wish for years turned back</div>
<div>
I wasn't rich or wise or bad</div>
<div>
Just a fool to fall for you</div>
<div>
To last so long, you must be mad</div>
<div>
You took your chance and fled</div>
<div>
Into another's bed</div>
<div>
And there I stood just all but dead</div>
<div>
A lucky sign I learned the truth</div>
<div>
I want to live, but not hate you</div>
<div>
I want to fall in love I said </div>
<div>
But not with thought of you in head </div>
Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-12120971515861966792015-01-18T13:17:00.001-08:002015-08-08T08:51:29.365-07:00Divine JusticeGod is not a wonder<br />
just a thought that moved the sky<br />
A reason for the seasons<br />
for the Moon and bloom of spring<br />
When waves of sunken men were lost<br />
the clouds would show the eye<br />
When wind became a song to bring<br />
the naval guard would sing<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
"God is on our side today</div>
We break the black and blue<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
The yellow guard</div>
Unrighteous yoke<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
We'll break the peace in you"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
In name of gods</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
by grace of king</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
they fight through flame and flesh</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Opposing might</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
divine in right</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
the other side brings death.</div>
</div>
Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-53170020819922211842014-06-25T14:51:00.000-07:002014-06-25T14:53:09.912-07:00No More Blind Dates Please<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Your glass of wine speaks to me more than your lips do. You've gone pale ale while the wine keeps it rouge all through fermentation. Has your brain gone dry or do you have lock jaw? Let me help you. I will order some gelato to keep it from freezing up. Bad move? I didn't know you were lactose intolerant. What's my sign you ask? The stars don't govern my life, but if I were to choose I would be somewhere between the Orion's Belt and Steamers Lane right now. I guess we're incompatible. No use exploring.</span>Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-18858887853397580212014-06-19T16:54:00.000-07:002014-06-19T16:54:59.189-07:00Finches<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Girls fly around him like finches in a dry fountain. They try to take a dip but he never gives. Even in his age he has never once opened when it was meaningless. He will feel when he knows and if he doesn’t know then he will wait cautiously as they attempt to gently remove his wilted feathers. Sometimes when he drinks he feels more like himself, or at least a part of who he used to be. He forgets that the part he lost was not really him, it was only a temporality that he shared. The empty place that remains is not reserved for a new wing. He knows that only he can fill the space and he looks for a life of eight years lost to explore. There are treasures of experience he lacks, but the care for another blocks his ambitions of being young again. Separation is his fountain of youth, but he is swimming like a 200 year old sea turtle in a pond of tadpoles. Only Darwin would be interested in his slow paced love life.</span>Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-3578001858948020572014-06-05T14:50:00.002-07:002014-06-05T14:50:30.957-07:00Sleep Induced<div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Comfort eyes</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 58.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Emotionally Lobotomized</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Stony lids weigh</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 81pt;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">down</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">heavy</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 135pt;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">sight</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 135pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Dreamy dawn WAKES my face</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Endless walls to sky</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 67.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">from ground</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 67.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">A broken heart and set to foot</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Moving legs</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 58.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">highways</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 112.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Run away</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 112.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Waves of of red breaking memories</span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> from land to shore</span><br />
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 112.5pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">No escape</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 49.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">dead end</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 94.5pt;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">collapsing</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.5in;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">door</span></div>
</div>
Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-62027277110720551252014-06-03T10:58:00.001-07:002014-06-03T11:12:04.747-07:00Coverup<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Cratered faces of time never heal.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Just ask the moon.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">A scar here, a stitch there.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Powdered paint is for the feminine peel,</span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">layering their sun spotted skin.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"It's natural," they say,</span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"to cover the decay."</span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But not for time worn men.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We don't use makeup.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">It's not for us.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We are a different class of human;</span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">somewhere beyond age<br />and never able to cover up.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Love is beyond us.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Looks keep out company,</span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">even a simple conversation.</span>Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-67742178281056280522014-05-30T07:40:00.002-07:002014-06-01T07:44:12.009-07:00Trading Purpose for a TideSinking teeth in Sex and Wax.<br />
Coconut, so soft like gum,<br />
a solid grip applied to fiber and glass.<br />
Rubbing, humming beach melodies,<br />
each circle a rhythm, a wave, and story,<br />
one wipeout bigger than the whale.<br />
<br />
Not legend or hero, but self<br />
and free of duty and debt.<br />
He lives, sleeps on sand,<br />
bathes in virgin shores<br />
unshaved with fruit and<br />
wood and rain.<br />
<br />
Still past lives on<br />
through mind, and trunk<br />
in prints of novelty.<br />
The broken spine of books,<br />
and tales of life with wealth,<br />
love and empty bottles, lies.<br />
<br />
So lost among the norm<br />
of copied life, he fades<br />
and breaks the ties of<br />
given name and right.<br />
Hoisting sail, a guide through<br />
breath of storm and swell.<br />
<br />
In peace he found the blue,<br />
the white wash falling, rolling<br />
resting and receding.<br />
No fear nor purpose<br />
drives his life, but time through<br />
moon, the wind and sun.Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-49606506296339824192014-05-05T16:30:00.000-07:002014-05-05T16:34:57.015-07:00Free write, non stop. Unorganized thoughts<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My thoughts shatter to bring the lost past through the front and swept out with the glass that catches light like a burnt piece of celluloid on a roll that is fading from the years of display, all gathering dust and air. Make me deteriorate into dreams that fade when the rest wake up. There I am living and there...in time I will fade without influence. We touch, we love and we die. What follows we still wonder and pretend not to wonder. One life guaranteed, fragile and little under our control. The situation of being in the hands of another is dangerous and yet without it we do not live because of the lack of response, that voice and thoughts of another. Who felt you this week? They may not tell you to look and so you are a passerby, a slave to your bruises and the cuts on your mind. When the blue wind blows and the red river dries up you will not be looking back. Only they can save what you left for who? No one in particular. Just a few words, everlasting emotion so long as it is written in a loop. This paper is me in the flesh. I still live in these pages. You will find me here...</span>Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-20203885104751634142014-04-28T11:30:00.000-07:002014-04-28T11:36:46.101-07:00Pull me out of the past<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The broken beat has spilled and drained the years of life all lost in age and waiting for the break of thought's persistent weight.</span><br />
<div>
<div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But still the change is less foreseen than planned escape to see the new and now we left in failing taste, a hope for being separate in the blame.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">And when we run from life in arms we're looking back as time moves on. A blind beginning we will stake a claim in fear of passing through the shame.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I'm one, I'm over feeling hate. An open chest inviting few. The brave and understanding know to patch the torn and wasted blue.</span>Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-4945139334624844672014-04-18T08:09:00.001-07:002014-04-28T08:01:52.320-07:00A sappy broken heart postMy heart shivers because it has lost heat. It is frantically searching for what went missing. It asks the brain for answers. It tries to live in empty spaces where memories once were, but only the images are left behind, no one to hold on to. My heart is an empty room waiting for a lover who will never come home. Afraid to open the window and let out the stale air. Afraid to let another visit and stay a while. My heart forgets to breathe. It is weak, filled with cracks from the dry spell of emotions. My heart needs to run free. My heart needs to let go.Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-75906902541577859852014-03-30T00:02:00.002-07:002014-04-18T08:12:43.279-07:00Sitting at the SLC Roasting Co.It helps to be around strangers. There are so many different types of people here. It makes the world feel less small right now. This is where I want to go to forget the past. In a banana coconut latte I burn the memories. These are the flavors of escape. Their warmth melts anxiety straight through my chest. I feel soft, like clay sitting in the window, ready to be sculpted. Now I just need a sculptor. Where is she? I wait patently to meet her. What shape will I become from her influence? I hope for something different. I hope for something good.Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-19012557996190965512014-01-26T08:54:00.001-08:002014-01-26T08:54:42.838-08:00Call CenterUpright I sit in fear of the Oso who eats the floor. The man who feeds on our diversions. We are his stepping stools. His stairs to the upstairs. Like magnets to my fingertips the thick black keys pull me in. The screen stairs back at me. It's not a contest but technology knows no end to games. It waits obsessively for the next case, the next tab, the next page. A flash of red and a voice hits the brain like a tambourine. A flood of information pours down the ear canal and all I want is a problem, not the whole war. I cover my walls in memories, reminders of the life outside this florescent lit strain on the retina. We seek a little sunlight-nothing more than a distant window can be seen, only if you dare to stand up to the shadow in the corner of the room. Through that door is a portal only he can enter and exit, unless your are invited. Do I wish to be invited? No! I prefer to stay with my compañeros, waiting for the Oso to stroll through the endless cubicles of slavery.Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-8554592247632070442013-10-23T21:20:00.002-07:002013-10-23T21:20:53.615-07:00Care to Listen?
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The shrinking world in its silicon memory makes me forget. I
am focused on liquid crystals waiting for the next headline, the clever argument or
the next hello from a distant friend. How much imagination is lost when I become
addicted to the update? The space around me is open but the painting within a
photo is more important than the work of art itself. I must prove I was there
or nobody will ever believe me. Is it to make the others jealous of what I have
done or do I only want to be admired for my resourcefulness? I hate to lose
time and progress but I waste so much rehashing quotes and passing on ideas
that are not my own. I look around and I am not alone. Perfect faces are posted
in an eternity of mirrors. It’s not real because the photo game has infinite
lives. You can choose and erase the memory of an image humiliated. The
greatness of life is remembered once it has passed, not fabricated from
everyone’s perception of whom you should be and where you should go. So why do
I feel so empty every time I go back to search for the words of a friend? It’s
because I’m not really listening anymore. It’s because I’ve forgotten how to
care.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-13078726926219145402013-09-22T01:33:00.002-07:002013-09-22T01:33:17.523-07:00University of Refuse
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<br />
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There were parties east and north</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
but you wore the wrong color,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
brought the wrong pet,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
sang the wrong song.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You stand solidified by words and numbers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So much function and so little spirit.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No praise from your peers</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
or care from your faulty followers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No Matter.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You will never go hungry,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
rooms full but still force fed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lay off the apathetic freeloaders.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You’d need a laxative of disease</div>
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to clean your hallways</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
as they shove another mouthful</div>
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through your doors.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Someday you will collapse,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
when the final book is placed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The day the balancing act is over.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The day history is lost.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Jeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5100407881328077131.post-3423065733045021052013-09-09T23:58:00.001-07:002013-09-10T00:07:56.217-07:00It's a JobWaking the crazy day.<br />
Less inviting when I'm pushed<br />
mentally.<br />
But physically I carry it with ease,<br />
with rhythm.<br />
Con gusto I run, I jump and lift.<br />
It's an adventure that no one understands.<br />
I see the result,<br />
my work with purpose.<br />
I claim it as my own,<br />
I flaunt it.<br />
And yet others are complacent<br />
with static transfers as progression<br />
is as slow as their next beer,<br />
is as frequent as their last date.<br />
I am not common with my<br />
comrades.<br />
We share the same occupation, but<br />
seldom equal sentiments.<br />
I slave to help while they slave<br />
for pay.<br />
Well, that's not entirely real.<br />
Even I have to eat.<br />
<br />
(at the Bores Head) 8/30/2013 1:12 pmJeffrey Roothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15592681412990874501noreply@blogger.com0