Rock ‘n Roll Soul

•September 5, 2015 • Leave a Comment

(Written May 10,2013 a contribution for )

I wait in anticipation.They nod at me, signaling they’re ready.

I take a deep breath and stand up, knees shaking, my stomach in knots.
I feel hesitation,
Trepidation tries to tell my feet to run away.
They want to listen.I step up on stage and turn towards the audience.

The lights burn my eyes, I hear the noise in the room die down a little, anticipation buzzes in the room.

I turn around and nod at my drummer to signal that I’m ready,

he claps his sticks together:”1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4″
The instruments begin to play and a wave of energy envelopes me.

The sound pushes me into the air, I am transported into the sky, no one else is there, I am in my Happy Place.

I begin to sing.

This is my stage, I own the next few moments of the night. I dance, I jump, I rage. I feel the melodies course through my veins, I feel invincible, I am a fierce warrior, a super hero, I am ALIVE. Each note mixes with my blood, each lyric becomes my emotion.There is nothing else.

The beats of the drum punctuate my pulse,
The deep throng of the bass guitar animates my sinews,
Guitar strums jolt my life force.
They pull my voice to ascend to the universe that welcomes
my humble gift.

Song after song plays, time stops and goes full throttle at the same time. I sing my last note, my feet touch the stage, I return to earth. Applause brings me back to reality. I shout my thanks, sweat dripping in my eyes, I feel drunk, I feel like I’ve ingested lavish amounts of caffeine. My heart is throuncing, like it is about to hurl out of my chest. Elation and Rapture are words, insufficient to describe how I feel.

I sit down, I feel the aches and pains in my joints, my throat is dry, my clothes are soaked, sticking to my skin. For a few hours I am quiet, I nurse my beer, have a few cigarettes. I feel drained, I listen to the other performers. First I cringe at little mistakes I knew I made, chastise myself for this and that,then I slowly recall those few sweet moments that I owned. How I flew into space, touched the stars and danced with the moon. Nothing else matters, no missed pitches or cues. Not important.

I begin to re-animate, I begin to feel a warm rush of exultation rush into every crevice of my being. Euphoria tingles from the tips of my toes, to my fingers, to every split-end of every strand of hair on my head.

There is no feeling like it, no experience to match. It is bliss hopped up on an energy drink. Little can compare.

I am hooked, addicted,

me and my rock ‘n roll soul.

Next time can’t come soon enough.


Ad Infinitum

•September 5, 2015 • Leave a Comment

I weave you into my story now
what was yesterday and is today.
I leave marks of you here and there
I doodle like a school girl,
little hearts and flowers and
your initials in the margins.
I fold the corners with your fingers,
you will always be part of them now.

Some pages, especially of late
are entirely about your lips.
Of the way it feels when your hands
brush my imperfect skin
like its lines and stretches
are the finest silk.

Paragraph after paragraph,
of how I seem to be,
the best version of myself
as I rest in your arms.

Seemingly endless descriptions of who
my eyes identify you to be.
The intricate mazes that draw me to
the contents of your thoughts,
your deep understanding of that melody
and the way its crescendo caused me to weep,
that which I thought I alone could hear.

The simple brilliance in your smile,
the leaps my heart make when your
laughter bursts forth,
oh all these things are scribbled into my
memoirs, etched deeply to bleed into the blank pages
that are to be tomorrow’s ramblings,
over so many phrases in pages from erstwhile.

As I watch you slowly read,
through this flawed and sometimes too heavy
tome of mine, I am at times,
filled with trepidation.
I recall the pages that are almost unintelligible,
lines of ink smudged by tears,
little holes from erasures made,
pages written with so much shame inscribed by the lightest
touch, the lightest ink, wishing their nonexistence.
And I quail.

Yet I let you read on, and though sometimes I
have the overwhelming urge to snap it shut,
to pull it away, I want, no need you to carry on.

I weave you into my story now,
what was yesterday and is today.

What will be tomorrow, to be continued,
come what may.

A certain kind of….

•August 28, 2015 • Leave a Comment

This familiar flavor
but with a strange twist,
a metallic tinge at the back of my throat.

I close my eyes and sleep,
I swallow burning,
or sweet,
nothing changes.

I think my ability to tolerate is burned out,
now that I know what I want.
or do I?

I want to ask for more,
but I thought I already did.

I said things I meant upon saying them,
but each moment is different from the other.

Understanding doesn’t make the pain any less.
Words are sometimes just words,
easy to delete,
easy to forget.

Part of me will acquiesce,
yes this is just my luck,
as its always been.

Part of me wants to fight,
the part that screams for more.

Was I not detail specific
in my universal pleas?
Or is this my fate,
my lot?

To have you, but in so many ways, not.

Argus Randall

•June 22, 2015 • Leave a Comment

I keep falling.
Each time I am sure the depths have come to an end,
You disarm me and prove me wrong.
And I continue in my descent.

Here it is before you beloved.
The unraveled depths of my soul.
My darkest truths
My purest fears.
You can ruin me with one stroke.

I have come undone,
I lay at your feet in my most resolved state,
Naked and bare in every sense.
I have held nothing back.

All you have to do is speak,
my walls shatter and my heart is fortified,
as you recount battles that are beautiful as en l’air,
while you express the workings of your brilliant mind.

I am yours, and you, mine.
We cleave our own path,
We write our own story.
We weave our threads of time together.
This tapestry only you and I can decipher.

I keep falling,
With your hand in mine,
I do so gladly.


•June 2, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Rough patches

stretching moments of agony,

Pure pain.

Total malady.

Until you slip into numbness

Admitting the sorrow,

only In the darkness.


Then it becomes

A steady slipstream of just surviving,

Getting from day to day,

Not caring how it ends

Sleep is the only solace.

Extinguish that incessant flicker.

Hope is your weakness

Tamp it down,

Embrace the eminent disaster

Of that lonely life,

Like in those movies nobody really likes

to watch because they are too real.

Secretly every night,

A whispered prayer to the stars,

Let this end,


Then it ends,

In the loudest brightest way,

Colors exploding,

A thousand voices in song.

You were thinking of a different kind of end,

You were thinking of the quiet kind of extinction.
Not all this bliss.

And then it ends with that smile,

And then it ends with another beginning.

And then you get what you truly deserve…


Do You Know, Love?

•May 28, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Do you know?
How your smile is the sweetest breeze on a lovely day?
Do you know?
How your touch sends comets through my veins?
And that I am slowly, wonderfully coming back to life
each moment you call me yours.

I wonder if you truly understand,
how these few days of us,
feel to me like a lifetime of light.
If you know,
that my joy is once again in flight,
all because you saw me, for more than this vessel.
All because you see my substance, and hold me in your arms anyway.

I wonder my love,
do you know?
That I have had dreams and hopes,
and you are so much more than what they were.
That when I look into your eyes, I see wonder for eons
and I will never tire of gazing into that sweet exquisite expanse
that is your magnificent soul.

I may be naive,
to utter such words
in the immense uncertainty that we call reality.

But we thrive in the unconventional.

We are crazy enough,

that this all just might work…


What is Hope?

•April 16, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Hope is not beautiful and delicate.
Hope is not a pretty white flower
growing in a bed of grass.

It is a heart still beating strong,
despite being shattered beyond recognition.
It is the tearful prayer
muttered everyday even when there is
no respite in sight.
It is smiling for the memory of the sun,
in days of seemingly endless darkness.

Its is waking up to this
world full of pain
and saying Thank you for
the slivers of peace and love.

Hope is a titanium backbone
built by pushing through tears.
Hope is not fragile,
it is the force
that breaks through walls
of despair,
night of anguish,
it dispells thoughts
and lulls oblivion.

I am not delicate,
I have a heart that beats strong
through the mangled mess that it is.

I will not fall…
I am not Shaken…