Tag Archives: memories

I have been writing…

I haven’t been posting here a lot, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing. Actually, I’ve been writing nearly every day; it has just been on my other blog.

I thought about a subject that I would want to write about and, well, it didn’t take any time at all to come up with one. I have a rather large vinyl album collection. You know, the way we used to listen to music before CDs and digital streaming. The music format that has made an unexpected but welcome comeback in recent years. On my other blog, The Vinyl Jungle, I listen to a record and write my thoughts about it. I try to avoid writing a review of the album (although elements of one sometimes sneak in there) but rather, focus on a memory the music sparks, some trivia about the band or the making of the album, or anything else that pops in my head that is relevant. Most of the time it is something from the golden age of vinyl; the ’60s, ’70s, and early ’80s. Every now and then though, I do sneak something new in there too, like recent releases by Arcade Fire, The National, Florence and the Machine, and Steven Wilson.

If you are a music lover, I hope you will check it out. Feel free to leave a comment suggesting an album you like, and think I should include.

I hope you stop by.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot, the web address to my other blog is https://thevinyljungle.com/


Demon Taunts

We all have demons that haunt us
An abuse
A mistake
A ripple effect
A risk you didn’t take
My demons are ones I can’t trust

Hiding in the darkest of shadows
In your eyes
Be unseen
A passive retreat
Hide what should not be seen
Love that still walks in the meadows

And then I questioned
The decision that I’d made
Though I knew the answer
Rode on the edge of a blade

The decision that I made
Rode on the edge of the blade

So I shrugged it off like it was a joke
And hid from it all behind blue smoke
And then I awoke
But It was too late
The loss was my fate
I let it slip away so easily
As if I meant nothing to me

We all have memories that taunt us
Cold chasm
In my heart
No looking back
Avoidance plays a part
For misguided precepts of trust

The Smile

It’s what I keep inside
The smile that peeks through to the outside
As the daydream invades
The past and future the present evades

Not who I really am
Hiding in the rulebook from a God and lamb
Not what I really feel
Taught to never beg and leaned to never steal

The ballad of lament
Security in an elastic balloon
The debt of unpaid rent
Foolish pride is what always gives up too soon

The smile from what is gone
Not knowing if I was pauper, king or pawn
The daydream in the night
Looking past the smile promoting fight from flight

The smile’s foolish lament
Behind a smokescreen of confidence and pride
The smile that was once mine
The smile that melts a heart frozen, lost in time

Copyright © 2017 Mr. Flying Pig

Temporary Fantasy

Sometimes I can’t help but thinking of the past
I try not to but it rears its head, time and time again

It’s lovely
It’s ugly
I’m regretful
I’m thankful

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder why life flies by so fast
Drifting out of sight like puddles absorbing the rain

I hesitate
I accelerate
It’s memorable
But I’m forgetful.

Sometimes my heart drifts away to scenes not meant to last
Floating on decisions from which I can never refrain.

Temporary fantasy?
Maybe a reality
Singing an age old song
Hope I don’t get it wrong

Copyright © 2017 Mr. Flying Pig

Maintain Radio Silence

Transmissions from another time
Conversations of the clandestine kind
Repercussions to bear in mind

Maintain radio silence

Actions always yield reactions
Destroying the states of satisfaction
Within the affected factions

Maintain Radio silence

For what’s ventured, nothing’s gained
Innocent bystanders feeling the pain
With trust and love turned to disdain

Maintain radio silence

Devotion must always be key
Differentiate between want and need
What is, is what was meant to be

Maintain radio silence

Copyright © 2016 Mr. Flying Pig

Heads or Tails

A sense of loss leads one to wonder
What would it be like now?
It’s a dangerous place to venture
Because a mind will always wander
To the more beautiful possibilities
Even if it’s already beautiful now

Revel in the allure of what you are holding in your hand
Take the time to appreciate all that you have now
Realize that on the flip side of what might have been
Lies a darker possibility that your mind’s eye hasn’t seen

Heads or tails
Make your choice
The one you follow
Becomes your inner voice
It can be your savior
It can guide you well
It can drag your soul through hell

So take another sip of desire
Burying the regrets of yesterday
What was lost you should never admire
What’s been found should have the final say
Burn the rest in the fire

You read the words that ring so true
They seem so clear and simple
Such an easy thing to do
But they become an eternal struggle
An unattainable goal not meant for you
You’re only human
Yet still you try
But you’ll never stop questioning why

Sorry, yes, but you’ll not make a sound
Far easier to laugh and buy another round
Always knowing you are forever lost
Wondering if you even want to be found
Brother, where are you bound?

Heads or tails
Find your way
The trail before you
Leads to another day
It can dig your grave
It can help you to live
You will get back what you give

Copyright © 2016 Mr. Flying Pig

Where They Truly Belong

Off in the distance, the memories sail by
On the wind from an intoxicating serum
Unbeknownst to their destiny or where they truly belong
Riding high in the sky
Sweet embers of the past
Sour questions of why

Into the future, a safe harbor of hope
In the bay for expiring dreamscapes
Keeping the innermost secrets where they truly belong
Buried deep underground
Waiting to be exposed
Hoping to not be found

Is there really a question of right or wrong
When the minstrel of the heart sings its song
Keeping its secrets where they truly belong?

Now in this moment, a connection of souls
From what was lost in blind innocence
Insurmountable passions kept where they truly belong
In a world of their own
Hidden from hence forth
Never shall they be known

Archived in regret, right where they truly belong

Copyright © 2016 Mr. Flying Pig