Poetry and Jack

Sitting around after finishing the day’s writing, I had a little Jack Daniels and listened to some Black Label Society, particularly a song called “Funereal Bell.” The aggression of the music triggered a few poetical thoughts about the days when I used to ride. I jotted them down.

CHROME AND WHISKEY

Chrome flash

When moonlight comes down

And the whiskey runs

Like gasoline

Bang the night

Rubber frictions into smoke  

A V-Four screams

Motor dreams

Flat out

Black pave glitters with light

Heart shifting gears

Into acceleration

White lines

Blur into the empty distance

As my engine burns

Gin and mescal

Learn fast

When the curve comes

Highway and dirt always beat

Flesh and blood

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Synchronicity

There have been a lot of synchronicities in my life recently. I mentioned here the "shank" coincidence. There have been many others. Two occurred just this weekend. First, I was telling my son yesterday about a video I'd seen at least a year or two ago in which two men riding a motorcycle had hit a truck with poles in the back and a pole had pierced both of them, locking them together but without killing them. Last night, when I returned home after dropping Josh off with his mom, Lana was watching a new "caught-on-video" show. The video of the two men and the pole showed a few minutes after I sat down with her.

Second, I took Josh to look at four-wheelers this weekend and I also checked out the motorcycles. I told Josh how much I missed my bike and started thinking that maybe I should buy another one since I'm living in the country now. This morning I passed a motorcycle wreck on a country road about a mile from my house. Could I take such incidents as warnings? Should I? A year ago I would have laughed at such a thought. Now, I don't know.

I used to think that I lived a step out of phase with the rest of the world, judging by my day to day experiences with such things as traffic and work. I imagined myself in a sort of "Wink of the Eye" scenario, like from the original Star Trek episode of that name. Somehow, the sudden increase in synchronicities seems to suggest that I'm starting to phase back in.

The world gets weirder. At least my world does.