Succumb

On a day very unlike this one, I set course on a path down by the brook. Cascading bubbles were generously forming over gleaning, sun-soaked rocks, all curiously oblivious at my approach. At least it seemed that way to me. Little did I know of what the day had in store, but that’s all the better… that’s really all the better I thought.

A wood was draped loosely on the opposite side of the brook, and was not like this one at all. Overgrown and haunting, it reached out in a yawning way and beckoned me forth. I succumbed. I always succumb. Water a bit brisk as I crossed in bare feet.

The cave people were waiting on the other side, at least it seemed so. All covered in fir and mud and abrasiveness. They beckoned to me, a bubbling invitation so fresh and newborn… but still, I froze… right there at mid-brook, a shiver had swelled.. a chill of uncertainty wrapped tight as a blanket. I froze.

I can’t follow you. I can’t really join you cave people. I don’t belong, not really.

On a day very unlike this one, I turned tail and headed home.

On a day very unlike this one, I had failed. All of my supposed courage was now lost in a breeze that kissed my cheeks as I ran. Dissolving into oblivion, still I wonder at the cave people.

I’ll ever wonder.

 

-I am Crandew

 

Work It

Years ago, I would spend each summer with my Grandpa. The lessons I learned then still haunt me to this very day.

Gramps was an ornery sob. He would take me out into the woods, and tell me to go hide behind a tree… so I did. It was only after the shooting began that I realized something fishy was going on.

Oh Gramps, you jokester you.

Chores, like rebuilding an old outhouse or mowing twenty acres in the pecan grove with a push mower were common place back then, and built character, loads of character… or so I’m told. Being a kid, and learning to always watch your back was just a stepping stone on the road to adulthood according to my Grandpa.

Another fun game was hide and go climb. You know, where he’d stuff my monthly allowance (a nickle, a dime and a quarter) into a sack and throw it up into a tree. Did you guys ever play those games too as a kid? My favorite variation was when he’d wait til I was halfway up before adding, “and don’t forget to grab the cat while you’re up there.”

Good times.

One golden nugget that I was able to squeeze out of all of this:

Things are far more valuable after you’ve had to work for them.

Also, there’s this little addendum:

 

No matter what is thrown your way, learn to rise above this myriad.

 

-I am Crandew

 

Wrap It Up

…I’ll take it.

Just finished wandering the lonely halls of justice. The rooms are all empty now, in case you were curious. The echoes from the past have been silently drowned out by sorrows from an ever approaching tomorrow. There’s no real justice in the world. Once an act has been completed, it’s over. There’s no going back, no revisiting. That which comes after can only be called justice, and I already told you… that’s over too.

So where does that leave us, my friend?

Where are we going?

The bus driver collapsed a long time ago, and we seem to be headed into the stark horizon… at top speed. I can hear the roar of the engine, and the dull steady hum as long ago worn out tires barely grip the dirt road beneath us; the soil reaching up as if from the grave… to push us, and pull us along.

Just where are we going?

I think I’ll change seats, perhaps get one with a better view? It won’t slow the journey down one bit, and I doubt the new seat will be any more comfortable, but I can’t stop trying… can I? The rush of wind down the isle is disturbing but at least it’s consistent. That’s at least that’s something, right?

A cold chill. That’s all that’s left of the justice that walked these halls, and I can only sigh as I’m carried helplessly towards the horizon… the stark horizon.

Remember?

I remember telling you that it was stark.

 

-I am Crandew

 

 

Faint Rattle

Each new day arrives to conquer the old, and what we are left with hangs precariously in the balance. I don’t mind so much that yesterday was devoured because the promise of today is so bright and so wonderful. Even when diluted, hope can be such a marvelous thing to have. I must remember to foster some today.

Wonder what tomorrow will bring?

Down the street in a distance, I can just make out the faint rattle of an old truck as it rumbles steadily on its way. Someone is heading somewhere at least. I wonder what sort of day the driver will have. Will there be the sweet smell of roses waiting when they get home or the odorous stench of decay from an ever declining world? I’ll never know I guess.

Wonder what tomorrow will bring for them?

The new day is here at long last, and with what little I’ve been granted I must do what I can. I get the feeling that my time is growing colder, but I’ll try to hold on for a bit longer. I’ll try to foster more hope.

I’ll begin my day, and set all my hopes and dreams on tomorrow.

That’s it. That’s the ticket.

 

 

-I am Crandew

Avalanche, 6 Pack on #iTunes! Show your support for modern music and #rock Blabpipe – go find them! Treat yourself! 🙂 Avalanche is the 2017 album! Miss the real rock? Here you go! #indiemusic #nowplaying #indierock #hardrock #modernrock #newbands #metal https://t.co/pekn2cGdOK

— Blabpipe (@Blabpipe) January 22, 2018

The Vibe Is Everything

I don’t always write a completely esoteric song, but when I do… I call it Chong.

We only move in shadows 
We only deal in darkness
We never dream in color
We never can be bothered

This is not my life
Release your soul, fly
Sequence your thoughts, try
Open your mind, wide, wide...

This is not my life
This is not my life

…and it sounds even cooler!

For the record, the title Chong came from the sound the bass guitar was making when I presented the song to the band. Mostly, it’s a tribute to the 80’s punker/goth people.

I can only hope they found what they were looking for (I did).

-I am Crandew

Anywhere Far Away

Argh it’s Monday… again!

Best thing we can do is load up on coffee, zone out and hope for the best.

 

 

-I am Crandew

 

 

https://twitter.com/Crandew/status/955057900409573376

Set Aflame Discard

It’s hard not to get caught up in a fight, isn’t it? For the metal that binds us comes crashing headlong into the burr of our discontent. For this moment, for this grain of sand on a lonely beach… it is beyond time to either grow some fisticuffs or just skinny on out of there.

Our forest is our world, and our world has been carelessly set aflame.

“I tell ya true Sir.”

Beyond the daises and just outside the realm that bottles our dreams so nicely, I will admit that I am just one sucker punch away from the knockout… my own lights being knocked out, that is. This is the fight I can’t win. This is a fight I no longer want. Not sure if I ever really wanted to win… really.

“Who rules the world?”

Heartened by the mere thought that we might be the ones in control, who wouldn’t want to be the hero?

I wouldn’t.

I don’t.

…

I’m aghast.

 

Truth is but a fiction compared to you. I’m alighted. I’m staggered.

It all really does look wonderful from such a distance. To think that I might have ever wanted the chains of responsibility again?

No way man, no way.

You can rule the world if you want to.

Not me. Not ever again!

 

-I am Crandew

 

You Write Man! #wordpress blogger @Crandew serves up his take on life events in the real world. #writing #blogging w art n a whole lot more. #rock on people.. #inspiration #culture #arts https://t.co/DMmwMx3EAD

— Blabpipe (@Blabpipe) January 20, 2018

 

 

Large Gaping Hole

“The vacuous nature of some people, I tell ya true mister.”

Most of us live out our lives in a very nondescript way, like the simple turn of the crank on a churn of butter or perhaps a solid grind from an unhappy millstone. Most of us. I tell ya true. That’s all we want.

There are however those who choose to bravely trip the light fandango. They sometimes just want to light a candle, and let it burn… you know?

And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly,
Turned a whiter shade of pale

Though misfortune, nay misadventure finds us both feathered and foul, the weasel always finds his hole… eventually. The large, dark vestige that awaits in the dead of winter, unabated and unconcerned yet dangling precariously ever close in the night.

Always waiting, a constant companion of sorts.

We all have a debt to pay, I thought… as I plunged into my own large gaping hole.

 

-I am Crandew

Head Spin

It’s incredible how quickly things move now.

Our society, our way of life is no longer so simple. It’s overrun with a sparkling array of electronic magic that’s now at the push of a shiny red button. Is it too much already? There’s a good chance that the acceleration has only just begun.

Oh my.

Just a few thoughts on all this progress before the new day cracks itself wide open.

As far as I can tell, it was the advancements in computer technology, especially from the late 80’s into the new millennium, that paved the way for all these smart phones and the explosive, self-diluting internet. Not to be a Debra Downer on technology (especially since I’m a physicist) but we’re not dealing with these new toys all that great. The problem could be that it’s coming too quickly.

Most people never figured out how to work the VCR, and yet… here we are, miles away from all that. Geez Louise, that sure was fast!

Wonder what’s next?

Oh I know, I’ll just wait a minute.

 

-I am Crandew

 

Lord Overbox

On the production floor of life there are many boxes, but the ones that stand the tallest are for the tools. For isn’t it always the case, that our generosity is showered first and foremost on our tools?

It is a glorious time to behold but there will be trouble. Tools and boxes are everywhere, as far as the eyes can see. Oh yes, and our old friend trouble is quite near.

Oh yes.

For a number of these boxes have strenuously fought for ultimate control. Chaos has always broken out across the great floor. Something will have to be done.

Oh yes.

Our floor was to be in constant turmoil until the day the strongest box, Lord Overbox made a pact with a few of the lesser boxes, finally putting an end to the fighting.

Hooray! Great job!

Seems like a good thing, right?

The floor rejoiced, overnight there were rules and methods created for all the tools to follow, and a warm light began to shine once more in the forest that is the production floor, our home.

I tell ya true for I was there.

Thanks to the wisdom of the Lord Overbox, the floor began producing again.

I was but a small torque wrench at that time, usually hiding off to the side in one of the poorly lit corners of the room. I can’t say what it was that cautioned me so, or even what my plan would be. Something always nagged. Something just wasn’t right about any of this.

It’s like the world was touched, the floor had gone bit mad.

 

For at the end of the day, I can’t escape the fact that we are all just tools.

-I am Crandew

https://twitter.com/Crandew/status/952167016617664513