5:15 - OR SO

It is necessary to locate the birthplace of the following offering, both in time and in place.  Otherwise it will make less sense than it will already not make.

It was written late in February 1980 while I was living in New York City.  One of the sofas on which I was allowed to "crash" on a regular basis was in an apartment in the SoHo district.  Atop said apartment building, was a splendid rooftop retreat which I visited whenever I could.  One remarkable evening at about "5:15 - or so" I witnessed the setting sun reflecting magnificently from the upper floors of one of the skyscrapers a couple miles uptown from me.

Rainbows are also significant and shall be revisited in later posts.

5:15 --- Or So

The sun shines sharply from

Northern monolithic highlands.

Other glimmering baubles reflract

And reflect

Rainbows in a reminiscing Mind.

Clement warmness,

Unseasonal for February's normal chill

Sends springtime shivers

Through a fevered Mind.

Alone and one.

Urban, beehive sprawl

Splinters northern sunsets into many.

For a time...

...none passes.

Save for The Never-ending Sound Effect:

Vehicular tumult.

Cloudless blue-and-brown hued masking 

Hides the endless velvet violet of Stellar regions from

Optic awareness.

Here, to when "Now" is here,

The panoramic, spectacle

Emblazons and imprints, permanently

A peaceful Mind.

Painful memories remembered

Then filed away: Forgotten,

"Now" becomes the dwelling place of

Northern sunset's mysteries.

There.

For, when reading-thinking-speaking movement ends:

(a transit of a soul's experience)

There is another "Now" to bleach

The stain of Life

Away for one more shot at Eternity...

...an Immortal Mind.

WHOEVER YOU ARE

~ By Barley Corne

Did you really just call me "Whoever You Are"?

It seems so unlike you to me.

I'm sorry I woke you from trying to sleep.

It was well after noon. Excuse me!

I thought I was more than "Whoever You Are".

I could be mistaken, I guess.

And yet, I am left here to stare at the phone

My ego is bruised, I confess.

It's possible Darlin', whoever you are,

I needed a friend on the line.

Your brand of rejection, I take pretty hard.

It's usually not a good sign.

I just wanted a minute, whoever I was,

To give you the news of the day.

It's not like I called for no reason at all.

I knew what I wanted to say.

So why did you call me "Whoever You Are"?

Why'd you bother to answer the call?

You could have just let your machine pick it up.

Since that's why it's there after all.

My Budweiser's flat'ning, whatever that is.

This evening has gone rather long.

It's late and I have to start early at work

I guess I should wrap up this song.

Whoever I was, I was someone you knew
Whatever I did, did it really hurt you?
However I thought we had something to share.
Now I don't really think that you care...


I'll call in the morning, whenever that is.

And possibly talk to you then.

If I can be more than "Whoever You Are"

Then maybe I'll call you again.

THE FUTURE'S GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME

~ by Barley Corne

The first thing when I get up in the morning

The mist of sleep still fogging up my brain

I have to get online and bring up Facebook

And lose myself in cyberspace again

My profile picture probably needs changing, 

So I look much more together than I am

Share a couple viral videos from YouTube

It looks like I’ll be late for work again

If I don’t watch out

     (If he don’t watch out)

These modern wonders

Are gonna bring 

     (They’re gonna bring)

Me to my knees

There is no hope

     (He's lost all hope)

Of ever changing

The Future will

     The Future's gonna be the death of me!

Accidently dropped my cellphone in the toilet

Lost my entire phonebook in a flash

I couldn’t make the call she was expecting

Hope she doesn’t throw my stuff out in the trash

I had to use the payphone at the Roadhouse

You know the one at exit 43

Tried to tell her I was working at the office

But, I was busted by my GPS-ID

If I don’t watch out

     (He won’t watch out)

These modern wonders

Are gonna bring 

     (They’re gonna bring)

Me to my knees

There is no hope

     (He's lost all hope)

Of ever changing

The Future will

     The Future's gonna be the death of me!

I met a girl who said she’s into gaming

That sounded mighty int’resting to me.

I got her to escort me to her parlor

Then I saw the 12’ foot Sony L.C.D.

(As big as my old Chevvy S.U.V.)

If I don’t watch out

     (He won’t watch out)

These modern wonders

Are gonna bring 

     (They’re gonna slam)

Me to my knees.

There is no hope

    (Abandoned hope)

Of ever changing.

The Future will

     The Future's gonna be the death of me!

I sent a picture to a cute young thing on Twitter

I told her it was just for her to see

I saw it on the TV News next morning

And now the law is coming after me

So my Yahoo’s got my Bing all in a Dogpile

And my G-Mail’s all Linked-in with stuff to share

My cellmate on his FaceBook page Diggs Myspace

And I haven’t seen my Google in a year!

If I don’t watch out

     (He won’t watch out)

These modern wonders

Are gonna bring

     (They’re gonna slam)

Me to my knees.

There is no hope

    (Abandoned hope)

Of ever changing.

The Future will

     The Future's gonna be the death of me!

The Future’s gonna be the death of me!

BLENDING MOCHA

By Barley Corne
~ With apologies to Robert Frost

SOMETHING there is that doesn't love a scone,
That dreads the gritty dry-mouth taste of it,
And sends the gasping sampler on the run;
A nonfat mocha latte for relief.

The toasted bagel smacks of issue too:
The cream cheese is a needed condiment
And my physician wants me to reduce,
And he would have me using fat free spread,

The flavoring is flat no pleasure there.
So what would be the pastry I prefer?
Confections, I would order, were I free.
And with my neighbor I can gladly share;

A lovely cupcake, frosted.  Even glazed,
And sip a sweetened latte for the prize
Of friendship, as we speak of daily news.
The sugar in our veins begins to drive

Our heartbeats to a quicker stronger pace,
The other customers who can observe
Remark of frosting smeared about our mouths.
The room with sucrose aided sight does glow

It seems the world itself has been refueled
And smiling, shaking hands as we depart,
Perhaps a friendly hug to seal the day;
We only have to keep a secret pact:
To not divulge the content of our snack 

We both agree, "Good cupcakes make good neighbors."