Trax Brundisium

Version 20.10

Tellgothica plagtor eveus
Magine pain invelvet rededeed
ufer joletic distress whone ogpruool
tolofa mortude seems quapell croonsty

Robert was a finagler. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Got it from his dad, who spent four years up at Indian Springs for some con job. There you have it. The first three lines of Trax's great American novel. Unfortunately, Trax has had writer's block for four decades. Maybe 2010 is the year that novel gets finished.

the birds fly
softly in the fog
ravens and crows
see the future
in keeping with hate
or greed
never alone with Zeus
crying, flying, dying
over the slough of despond
stay inside your heart
leave Oklahoma behind
just start anew
with the birds
in the fog

Time to run, time to hide. Long arm of law comes my way. See many tall riders in blue. Must make tracks far, far away. Tshlingo fiewkr if not iehanrn opladl klursky. Never surrender! Hoyej grouwtel. #$

Desegregation's what I'm talking about - The end of apartheid in South Africa - Sooner or later it'll come to pass - If it don't happen sooner gonna kick your ass! I know, I know, that was 20 years ago. But it sounds as good now as it did then. Besides, I don't have anything better to write about today.

Wow, those three days raced by like a gust of wind at Burger King. Trax was not surprised to see another writer for this site get dumped today. Hopefully, he will fare better with his next project. In the meantime, let's commemorate today with a poetic verse or two.

true visions of blurred thoughts
costly insides of wood still rots
into the quantum palace
located outside of dallas
vengeful, spiteful, plentiful
floating downstream with nary a care
troubles lie ahead, maybe

The self-perpetuated lies fulfill one's destiny both suddenly and slowly. Feeling withered inside leaves nothing to the imagination. Esteban cries in pain pero todo el mundo reacts with blank stares. A large cat, el gato grande, knows the whys and wherefores. Stealing friendships by the score. The end results cfgey$%k and 4dyiol^^ for eternity. Tshlingo is the future, past, alarm and present. Gwrst?

Lady Guinevere's hazel eyes reflected the gazes of thousands of suitors. Nary a chance for those with no fortune.
The clouds of war loomed on the horizon but stayed at a distance, bringing a world of worry and consternation.
Never had there been such an uproar. The cries and yells echoed off the surrounding hills with a clarity never heard before or since.
The music of the band carried a long way through the crisp air of the October evening.
The leaves of the trees rustled with the freshening breeze. The time was near - there would be no turning back now.
Steven grabbed his backpack and hurried out the door.
Hey, don't forget your maple syrup!

One goes sailing
The other stays on shore
What's the difference?
Only the waves can tell
Or the tides
You = confusion

The fundamental sensations are ytrybirews only in appearance. Let not your outlook be preferred by the enemy. See woghtyer when jolunid ur nigh. The thrill is not in the rightness but the afterglow.

I, Trax, have nothing important to write about today. Perhaps a poem will suffice:

Forever true to its word
Conveniently forgotten
Left alone to ruminate
About lost opportunities
The cyclone continues on course
Sweeping the landscape
Time to check things out
In another time and another place
Brother, where hast thou gone?
Don't desert me when the waves rush in
Cling to a piece of wood
And paddle to shore
The sunrise is unlike any other
When you've run the distance
And seen the future of man
See you in the canyon....

Today is a day just like any other day in the life of a lonesome soul without a compass. Hey, Mr. President, stimulate this! But just as all roads lead to Rome, the proof lies in the pudding. Tapioca pudding. Wait!! A meteor just landed in his backyard! Gwrst?

Fender guitars rule the roost in this neck of the woods. At least that's what it seems like to Illinois Joe. Also seen on the horizon are sand wedges, lob wedges, pitching wedges, and just plain wedges. Coughing up blood is never good, especially on Saturday mornings. The grass keeps growing at a faster pace than the day before. Would you make a rhyme now and then? Okay, whatever you say. [...frying the tomatoes and mixing them with the bell peppers will result...] So it would seem a dream will lose its steam, you know what I mean, Gene? Point to post 2!qhfoaisdj or whatever seems best. Floating along with the flotsam. Avoiding the jetsam. GIGIG

Low, dark clouds scud against my forehead with an androgenous taint. Feelings are forgotten. Life is not what it seems for those in the dark. Reach out carelessly for the anointed one. Reach and reach some more but not in vain. Honeydew melons provide no musical relief for the downtrodden, especially in the first acre. Flummoxed and bewildered by the sands of tomorrow, the group of 14 trudges onward. Consolation is no big 78uiojkd whenever ijoop]0;??? Freed from the grasp of Orion, the soldier sees the future of his people. One, two, buckle my shoe!

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi De Omnibus Ipsum Magnus. Teldra seemed to have no sense of magnificence towards the aliens. Flowing freely from the tap, but still blocked by the infiltrators. Devils may care, but Gods will not. Secrets are locked in fire hydrants in Omaha. Calvating slowly, now and forever.

Greetings from the bottom of the barrel. Would that those who have seen the glory could transfer their power to those in dire straits. Left behind for all to care for will not be the way. Friends and enemies band together for the vilification of the devil. Entransmentation is the product of uhijklmdincy. Care to debate the longs and shorts of the planetary system? No one tells anyone the answer, for you must figure it out for yourself. Brown leaves cover the trophies of yesteryear. The spleen is lacerated one too many times. Ulprisness is uncalled for on Thursdays, welcomed in July. Last-second drives are covered by the SRM, only to be blazed in circles. CoNdEnSaTiOn to the heavens. Liquor for the shaman!

Feelings fly freely forever. Intermingled chemicals push hesitatingly towards the razor's edge. Yeromie fastada contrum nappagio dloriat. Kendraka ilioto semps ultremonew jomble. The days race by with nary a tear shed from the statue. Seeing the pain causes the prosecutors to call on the tequila makers for improved footwear. Jumpaje wastra!

the grosbeak sings its song - quite possibly wrong - the moon orbits the earth - ever since its birth - insults hurled blindly - goodbyes said kindly - aggression - yields nothing - but truth

Insufficient congruence deflates the crestfallen warrior. The last of the tribe pleads to the skies of Low Dog. Freedom merely waits in ambush on life's journey. Trjkitlaaneh! These are the footprints of an angel in hiding....

Slowly saturating the vindictive vagaries of vengeance, Arturo stumbles on towards the setting sun. Fishing for dinner proves fruitful to all involved. Set them free, there must be, nothing to see, for you or me, while drinking tea, one plus two is three, turn the magic key, slapped silly by a golden carp. Kwozzetzka?

The phantom strikes again with disturbing alacrity. Nightmares continue from the forbidden zone of inequity. WARNING: Detroit Tiger fans, beware. Bad times lay ahead! Individuals contradict their inflated egos with fiduciary commitments brazen only in their gravity. Treasures abound when the blue trees shed their leaves. 1-2-3 spits out the answers to nothing in particular. Trax continues onward toward the eventuality of misery. S-O-S sings ABBA!

Baseball bats slam down upon the ground and bounce back without fear. The end of the season beckons for most. Only a select few will advance. Quadriceps pulls are a key part of every team's defensive strategy. Crushing, pounding, stamping on the opposing tetrarch of complaints. So long, March!

Feeling free and easy as a bird in flight, Eduardo sings an operatic aria of opulence and/or ignorance. Indecision caters to the unwashed masses. A cavalry charge results only in the degradation of the ramparts. Tra-la-la. Gators and gatros sleep under the bed. Actions feel the lost souls of craving. Let October begin!

Integrity takes a backseat to the immersion of infidelity. Lost in the fog of eagerness towards the battle.
Song to sing
Words to bring
Over the mountains
Hmmm, that don't work

Kelvin was unlike the others. He had a plan to dig the dirt and move it down the hill. Not that that was a great idea, it was just different in so many ways. But soon would come the marching soldiers headed towards the front. The dirt would have to wait until the 19th century, when all things past would be present. He would leave soon and without his lunch it would be a short day. Pancakes as usual in the Freieffer zone. Oh well, at least Gelby would be proud!

Flipped over again for the umpteenth time by a crooked dog of a snake. Things, wonderful things, continue to suffer from apoplexy and foreign objects. The Flying Dutchman leaves the Palmetto Expressway and takes a stab at poetry:

entrenched in a failing ditch
the rabid dog sees the error of his ways
he'll never get rich
while lost in the SoCal haze
underfunded (broke)
laid out on a tarpaulin colored green
drinking a soda (coke)
he's often heard but never seen
cleans the carpets and rugs
forgets that final test
locks the doors and pulls the plugs
it's all for the best
it's all, all, all for the best

Invisible squadrons chatter their teeth throughout the night as the moon splashes its beams across the landscape. The ceramic alleys are filled with a fondness for evil doings. Klast up?

The Man In Gray: Look, we've been down this road before. We know what the score is. The same problems keep cropping up. What do you plan on doing differently this time?
Igor: Not much.
The Man In Gray: Not much? Not much?? There's a whole new line of products depending on this strategy and all you can say is "not much"?
Igor: Yep.
The Man In Gray: Yep? Yep?? Not much??? Listen, man, you need to get your ducks in a row.
Alston: Maybe he has water on the brain.
The Man In Gray: Who asked for your worthless opinion?
Alston: (points at Igor) He did.
Igor: Yep.
The Man In Gray: It's official: you're both insane.

May done came and went -- Trax was nowhere to be seen or heard.

Line dancing across the Arizona border are two seemingly confused creatures wearing silver parachutes. There, are you happy?

Fish are not fish unless intermingled with an amalgamation of viscous fokules.

I am a man of constant sorrow. A man of modest means. A man without a country. A man of means by no means king of the road. A man with a plan for a future in which all men are created equal. Unless you're a sandbagger of the lowest order. Feel free to comment on these and anything else. Wistruck 142.

How's your mama
How's your papa
How's your parakeet named Joe
How are things in Carolina
That is all we need to know
Fourteen times
Again and again
Down the road of biblical sin
No more questions
Need be asked
The answers lie
At the bottom of a flask
Pinot Noir

An infiltration of indolence has resulted in an integration of insipidness.

Pleghm-filled Stuka bombers attack with total disregard for the welfare of netizens.

Faustian bargains are indeed the work of the devil, at least in Ohio. This should not be misconstrued as being opposed to that which can not be devined from the indigent information available to those immigrants from Kansas or any other states that employ the tuck rule. Be that as it may, we should continue on course without wavering and reach the attainable goals prior to the perfunctory deadlines set by our masters. Guzitkaly?

[IG: What the heck is going on here? I know you write some weird stuff, but could it at least make some sense? It's just gibberish. Could you at least construct an occasional sentence that has some sort of meaning?? Got it??? GOT IT????]

So, the big boss man wields his boom stick and demands I write a certain way. Sure, I can put a few decent sentences together. But I will continue to write in my own style. It's not like you're actually paying me to do this stuff. Fixlingitork!

Driven down the road
Seeing but not feeling
Lost in the haze
Reaching for the ceiling
Ten times twenty
Leaves us with none
Cross the river
Just for fun
Hasta la vista


Cheese sticks are

On a blue

Waiting for

To take its

The indigenousity of the fierce but mad elective process creates quite the stir in the outskirts of the heartland. Never distinguish the embryo that is making its debut in the arena of marshmallow skies. Does this not delve into the fields of grandeur that are displayed in the states of Orion, Taurus and East Greenwich? Never fear, the end of crying is near. Somewhere south of Wichita. weuidjkxl???

Lost in that mess was the infernal indemnity of the trivial thunder. To the front go the slackers, to the sides go the dreamers, to the back go those who are well funded. Muchas gracias, amigo.

The indigenousity of the fierce but mad elective process creates quite the stir in the outskirts of the heartland. Never distinguish the embryo that is making its debut in the arena of marshmallow skies. Does this not delve into the fields of grandeur that are displayed in the states of Orion, Taurus and East Greenwich? Never fear, the end of crying is near. Somewhere south of Wichita. weuidjkxl???

[IG: What the heck's going on here? This is the same drivel you wrote three weeks ago!]

It's all about the deja vu, baby.

Dendronitis is taking its toll on the outskirts of the troubled metropolis. Evidently all concerned are in need of a shot of whiskey. Get on the bus!

Dendronitis is still taking its toll on the outskirts of the troubled metropolis. Evidently all concerned are still in need of a shot of whiskey. Keep getting on that bus!

Belt buckles

Easy chairs

Coffee cups


The blithering blitzkriegs of days gone past are nothing but a memory. Lose not what you have sought, but hold on to all that you have gained. Mark these words, for they should never be misconstrued otherwise. Calling Miss Ginger Gray at Susquehanna 2222.

Coriander continues its glossy stretch of indolence, surpassed only by its magniloquence. Fetching seems antiquated and out of the question, at least in the near future. Seems natural but not effective. Tears abound. Hmmm.

Books of facts
Stay in touch
Wilting grass
Not so much

The dream is
Lost in a
Like a ship
at sea
With no one
on it

Infinity beckons to one and all. Feeling the wrath of the Gods would leave us with nothing but a key chain. Divide the spoils and continue on as if nothing happened. Squidoo to you too.

Month 12 is upon us
Like it always is
The days are short
Pass the beer

Tiny shapes and sizes
Wondering what to do
Till the sun it rises
Reaching out anew
Thoughts are fleeting
No one cares
Reserved seating
On the stairs

Apples and arrogance
Bowling and brush
Fences and foolishness
Martyrs and mush

Now channeling: Elmer DiGuardinola

Holiday time is here
Full of much cheer
And a lot of other confusing stuff

Unleaded IG

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