tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79355943094918482902024-03-13T12:36:34.982-07:00Wander without being lostWanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.comBlogger584125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-39892754532776333862017-03-25T22:34:00.000-07:002017-03-25T22:34:01.895-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The curve in the road did not even register to me. What struck me solid, square, was the color. My favorite color, green...the southbound lanes were directly overhead, their abutments captivated a corner of my brain I had no idea existed. The road curves to the left, abutments to the right<br />
<br /></div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-60982246650709538962017-03-21T07:09:00.000-07:002017-03-21T07:09:03.254-07:00in a shell<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The world is a pearl<br />
In an shell<br />
Sitting on a shelf<br />
I in a chair<br />
All by my self<br />
Watching the world<br />
Sit<br />
Idle<br />
Its reigns<br />
Bridle<br />
Bit<br />
Used well<br />
From my chair<br />
I sit and stare<br />
At that shell<br />
A chamber<br />
Some cal hell<br />
The fear swells<br />
The media it tells<br />
Of sunshine<br />
California wine<br />
And terror<br />
It is a post colonial bliss<br />
Freedom's slight miss<br />
A dream astray<br />
A shelf<br />
In a house<br />
Empty<br />
By myself<br />
A pearl<br />
This world<br />
In a shell<br />
Not a dream<br />
Not a hell<br />
Just a bauble<br />
With a axis wobble<br />
Tides and streams<br />
Mountain trees<br />
Here I sit<br />
In this chair<br />
Not a lazy boy for me<br />
Old sparky<br />
The chin strap is keeping<br />
The words from spilling out<br />
It wasn't me<br />
<br />
Chris McQueeney ©2017</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-25407468431440398722017-03-12T17:32:00.001-07:002017-03-12T17:32:33.000-07:00I am home<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My life has been so full of seeking for the last seven months that now that it is over I feel lost...I found what I needed...my TBI is causing a form of Epilepsy... I left home to find how to live, I found what will help prolong my life...but it was hard and tramautic and will take time to process... I am grateful to all those who helped.<br />
<br />
Now to transition back to life, real life...<br />
Phoenix, Flagstaff, Albuquerque, Santa Fe, Denver Colorado, Los Angeles, Englewood, Bakersfield, Sacramento, Manhattan, Brooklyn, the Bronx, Harlem, Philadelphia, Chicago, and Portland and dozens in between over the last seven months...<br />
I am home<br />
When will it sink in?<br />
I have much work to do, much more than I knew, but...I Am Home!<br />
Chris</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-5147840871190698762017-03-08T15:01:00.001-08:002017-03-08T15:01:09.410-08:00Another one<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The glass<br />
Is soon clear<br />
From the<br />
Other<br />
Side<br />
Inside<br />
Out<br />
Outside<br />
In<br />
I find<br />
I just can't win<br />
And<br />
Win<br />
And<br />
Win<br />
But<br />
Breathe<br />
When<br />
I<br />
Breathe<br />
And see<br />
Usually<br />
What I<br />
Don't<br />
Want<br />
To see<br />
I find<br />
I find...<br />
You just gotta try anyway<br />
<br />
Chris ©2017</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-22492064327640285952017-03-08T14:35:00.001-08:002017-03-08T14:50:16.817-08:00Still not dead, nor in Manhattan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Oh NYC fucking GOD!! I just had a drunken eskepade worthy of a hangover movie...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Enough about me<br />
<br />
<br />
Let's talk<br />
About you<br />
In those shoes<br />
With that hair<br />
And that air about you<br />
You<br />
Smell of candy<br />
And treats<br />
Scents so neat<br />
Let's talk<br />
About you<br />
From Brooklyn<br />
To bangeledej<br />
Manhattan<br />
To Manchester<br />
Sex is in your voice<br />
And you<br />
Let's talk<br />
about you<br />
You don't even have to try<br />
But<br />
Don't lie<br />
You try<br />
But<br />
You<br />
Don't<br />
Even<br />
Need to<br />
Try<br />
Try not to try,<br />
See what happens<br />
Men's eyes don't lie<br />
You...<br />
Let's talk...<br />
About...<br />
You!<br />
<br />
<br />
Christopher McQueeney ©2017<br />
<br />
I am on a train to pitsburg...4 broken knuckles, one broken wrist, and that happened way before the drinking...the drinking was fucking legendary, epic, even your broken ass minds can't come close to making this shit up, I came too in a hospital in my underwear and had to fight the drs to let me go so I could catch the train...I walked through Manhattan this morning with no shoes in bloody underwear... Fucking epic;</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-16491459849763378962017-02-21T11:07:00.000-08:002017-02-21T11:07:07.691-08:00Not Dying in Manhattan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am to see a neurologist in a few min...the reality is that I am terrified...6 months of 1000% drive, even if it did not appear to be focused, just for this next hour...if all goes well I will spend the next month in the hospital, and it will be an ugly process...ugly, but beautiful...<br />
<br />
<br />
HERE'S TO NOT DYING IN MANHATTAN!!!!<br />
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Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-3475898749076867802017-02-19T14:13:00.000-08:002017-02-19T14:13:37.881-08:00Subway bound downtown Manhattan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
Full Measure<br />
<br />
<br />
I fall in love<br />
Eighteen times a day<br />
For just a moment<br />
Eighteen times a day<br />
I forget just how lonely<br />
I really am<br />
I see a glint<br />
A glimmer<br />
A hint<br />
A grin<br />
A smile<br />
The wind tussped<br />
Rose hint to her hair<br />
And I stare<br />
I can't help it<br />
I don't have to be lonely<br />
The reality<br />
Is they want the same as me<br />
To love<br />
And lust<br />
Comfort<br />
And excitement<br />
To be free<br />
Together<br />
I can't offer all that<br />
At least not in whole measure<br />
And what is a woman worth<br />
More than the half handful of sand left at the top of my life's hour<br />
A full measure<br />
That is her worth<br />
A full measure</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-62424668727354192382017-02-16T18:01:00.000-08:002017-02-16T18:11:43.763-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
On my birthday, just over 3 years ago, I was given a death sentence. I was told I would degrade until vegetable like my body would wither away until it quit breathing heart quit beating leaving everything that I love behind picking up the tatters. I kissed a woman for the last time, gave away my freedom to hear my children's voices, and let almost every thing else languor. And, and I researched, I fucking researched, and I fucking researched...my memory is fucked, so I have had to do the same research over and over again. Life is beautiful, but there are only three reasons on this planet worthy of the dedication and desperate seeking that I have gone through the last 40 months...otherwise I would a just fucking killed myself...but I learned a bit through that research, like that vegetable part, and the part that there are places on the planet where they heal branz like mine, so here I am in Manhattan days away from getting into one of those places. The reality is that I am terrified. I know what the first 8 days is going to be like, as well as the 6 after that. What scares the B-Jesus out of me is what happens then, because dying a vegetable horrifies me.<br />
All that aside, I have kissed a woman, I have celebrated a victory, and I have cried because of a glimmer of hope...<br />
I am in Manhattan trying to live,<br />
I might not have to die this year.<br />
<br />
<br />
What A Day<br />
<br />
Today<br />
It was a day<br />
Like I've often said<br />
Today was a day<br />
Better alive<br />
And not dead<br />
I'm here<br />
And<br />
You're there<br />
A gulf it would seem<br />
The math says though<br />
There's nothing in between<br />
Its all the same they say<br />
Everything's energy<br />
Your energy spoke to mine today<br />
Wipe the tear<br />
Just enough to say<br />
Today,<br />
It was a day<br />
Fucking A,<br />
And a day it was!<br />
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Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-54454684402509772352017-02-14T13:08:00.001-08:002017-02-14T13:09:48.822-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Oh Gods!<br />
Too much to write about...a historical contemporary non fiction novel, a modern edgy exposé on sex in the modern age, and a journey from north to south and coast to coast n the journey to save a life...there is way too fucking much...and the poetry, the fucking poetry! I have a lifetime worth of writing just from the last year...if I live I will never be board...<br />
<br />
What if Jefferson was wise enough to see America today, what if he was brutal enough to see us survive at least 100 years longer...<br />
<br />
His to get laid in this modern age, and who is getting wicked rich off of it...<br />
<br />
<br />
You will never get better, you are dying, you have to do something about it. Start at home, and work around the world as you know it experiencing life and some startling and scary realities on the path to a goal you were told did not exist, a goal no one understands, to breathe another day.<br />
<br />
"American Shame" "Hook up" and "What the Fuck?"© WanderWithout Publications inc2017- ad infinitum are pieces I am currently working on...<br />
<br />
But for now, it is Valentines day 2017 and I am going to an AA meeting on West 46th street off Broadway Time's Square Manhattan Newyork, then tonight I am going to read at an open mike on West 55th street off Broadway at Cassadys pub and Café (I think)<br />
Tomorrow I am going to confession at the Catholic cathedral on 5th ave and West 52 st...then to AA world services 120th St and Colombia to pay homige to my roots and to ask them some questions, questions from a dying drunk, not dying from the disease of alcoholisn. After which I am going to the lower east Village to see where poets goe to thrive or die...<br />
<br />
Over the next 8 days I will visit the five corners of the world, the five buroghs of NYC, are they safe, or deadly, or just fucking places? From the bit I've seen, they are more than just fucking places, and it doesn't take Jason Bourn or Jack Reacher or that dude Keanu Reeves plates (mad respect for John Wick, And Reeves himself) to fucking find out, it just takes 9 days of being stuck in Manhattan waiting on the medical care to save your ticking life...time to live while dying... "Dying in Manhattan"©WanderWithout Publications inc. 2017 yeah, imma ho pimpin my shit<br />
<br />
On the other hand, I am dying, stuck in Manhattan, off to a meeting...<br />
<br />
Chris McQueeney</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-58077997787752735442017-02-06T18:37:00.000-08:002017-02-06T18:37:47.706-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My aunt thinks that I have not been writing, because I will not allow her to indanger my life without saying something...I am writing three books right now and have been researching on a good number of subjects, why waste my time right? There are only so many hours in the day where I can travel as andso I have done what I always wanted to do, go around the world and write...My Aunt has directly interfered with my medical decisions which was so dangerous that I could have died and almost did, and it cost 20,000$ I have it documented...<br />
<br />
ohhh<br />
<br />
<br />
oh, and you can<br />
with a wave of your hand<br />
skin glossy<br />
slightly sandy rose color<br />
hint of the sun<br />
on a windy morning<br />
where I grew up<br />
where I was forced up<br />
more like<br />
but,<br />
all the same<br />
I said you could<br />
you said you would<br />
and you came<br />
all the same<br />
where it you<br />
with your eyes stuck like hmmm<br />
glued together<br />
not shut<br />
quite<br />
open mm<br />
slight wedge<br />
eyes wide once again remembering your touch<br />
and the love we once fed<br />
there you go again<br />
rampaging in my head<br />
it was the wave if your hand<br />
not what you said<br />
you do that to me<br />
just like I said<br />
sandy rose color<br />
like morning back home<br />
you do that<br />
you know<br />
just as I said<br />
no longer mourning<br />
brought back to life<br />
no longer dead<br />
<br />
<br />
Chris McQueeney, ©2/6/2017 WanderWithout Publications Inc. 915 productions Inc ™</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-79990797497850391792017-01-25T01:36:00.000-08:002017-01-25T01:40:27.767-08:00Its the song in your head<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
What would you do if the guest came a calling...would you smile, then grin as the guest walked in<br />
Would you let him pass<br />
Your front door<br />
<br />
<br />
Front door<br />
<br />
<br />
This is the place between<br />
You and me<br />
A cliff with a ledge<br />
A headge of the bet<br />
Between what we can and cannot see<br />
I walk to the edge<br />
Of that ledge<br />
Never once in all that time<br />
Was I ever really me you speak and I think<br />
If only you knew<br />
I stop to say hi<br />
There's this look in your eye<br />
A natural lie that just now<br />
Came to be<br />
Woh you say that's enough for today I really wish I had some more time<br />
Oh by the way<br />
Mine blah blah blah min4e<br />
How come you are not positive blah blah like me blah blah as you<br />
Can see blah blah I am Positive blah blah all of the time<br />
I hear very clear whether month<br />
Or year what's mine is not mine<br />
Unless in It U find today<br />
That lie between that tear in the seams that keeps you you<br />
And me me<br />
I heard a knock<br />
A noise in my head<br />
Would you get that<br />
My leggs feel like lead my feet glued to the floor<br />
I need you I said<br />
Alive and not dead<br />
At least till the guest knocks on the door<br />
God was sad<br />
I have heard said<br />
He loved satan from heaven<br />
Still he threw down to earth<br />
Never to return<br />
Forevermore<br />
<br />
<br />
The world painted read<br />
Grin glued to his head<br />
Since meeting me<br />
Painted red<br />
<br />
Satan has never been board<br />
Painted red<br />
He smiled again<br />
Painted red<br />
The world painted red<br />
Wicked grin reeking of sin<br />
As he knocked on my painted red<br />
Bright painted red<br />
Front Door<br />
<br />
<br />
Christopher McQueeney 2017<br />
©WanderWithout Publications Inc.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-16256981816372352542016-11-21T04:00:00.002-08:002016-11-21T04:00:52.592-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Hello...this is me</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-42544667115774331512016-11-13T12:44:00.000-08:002016-11-13T12:44:11.904-08:00This life of mine...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
I can see<br />
In real time<br />
<br />
<br />
I can see<br />
The lie<br />
in your eyes<br />
In your smile<br />
In the tears<br />
As they dry<br />
On your cheeks<br />
that don't bend<br />
I can see<br />
What you think<br />
How you feel<br />
How you blink<br />
How you sigh<br />
How your chest<br />
Rises<br />
And<br />
falls<br />
As your heart<br />
Beats<br />
Its last<br />
Beat<br />
I can see<br />
and I think<br />
AndI think<br />
As a heart breaks<br />
As it breaks<br />
As it breaks<br />
As as I watch<br />
As I watch it<br />
It breaks<br />
Our love dies<br />
And I think<br />
This is what<br />
A heart looks like<br />
No more lies<br />
As it Breaks<br />
our love dies<br />
As my heart breaks<br />
As it breaks<br />
I watch it<br />
Break<br />
In real time<br />
.<br />
<br />
<br />
Christopher McQueeney ©2016 WanderWithout Publications inc.<br />
There is so much to write, so much...My Health is declining as my mind is slowly braking and I have barely been maintaining...two months ago I had to leave home to seek care for my TBI...it has been a stange journey, and even though I have yet to accomplish what I set out for, I have experanced the best and the worst of humanity...there is a desperation in our country. It is not cominmg from thd very poor either. It is </div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-69343142652941782312016-11-04T23:17:00.001-07:002016-11-04T23:17:13.851-07:00Loves<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
<br />
What says you<br />
<br />
Listen for just a moment<br />
I cant help but wonder<br />
How is it we<br />
Can be so close but just<br />
Cant see<br />
What is this thing<br />
This thing between<br />
You and me<br />
To this very day<br />
I feel it<br />
Or the reminits of<br />
The feeling that came<br />
To me<br />
All that I see<br />
All that can be<br />
Could be<br />
Has been<br />
Between you and me<br />
But<br />
It was more<br />
Than<br />
Enough for me<br />
Life<br />
And<br />
Love<br />
And<br />
Free<br />
Living<br />
Is a lot to greet<br />
Every day<br />
Had enough<br />
To meet the end of things<br />
<br />
<br />
Chris McQueeney ©11-4-16<br />
<br />
My marriage was to me everything. My wife was the love of my life...of which there were three. Heather, Maliana, and Kendra, all broke parts of me on their way in, snd ripped gaing holes on theit way out. but evry one of them was worth it, by a mile.<br />
<br />
<br />
Chris McQueeney</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-2444585267899838962016-10-21T08:51:00.000-07:002016-10-21T16:23:57.995-07:00Greetings from the desert<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Capable hands<br />
<br />
<br />
Hello there<br />
Third day of 39 here<br />
Long ways<br />
From yesterday<br />
Tomorrow<br />
So far away<br />
Time stops for no man<br />
She is a fickle beast<br />
Likes things<br />
Nice and neat<br />
But<br />
When she's excited<br />
She does bite<br />
Likes a spank<br />
Now and then<br />
She shure is Purdy<br />
Makes my heart skip<br />
A beat<br />
She has been hard on me<br />
Surly hope<br />
There is enough of her<br />
For me to see<br />
The look in my daughter's eyes<br />
When she brings a life to be<br />
In times capable hands<br />
<br />
<br />
Chris McQueeney ©10-21-2016<br />
<br />
Life is a curious thing. Walking down the road the other day, hundred pound pack on my back, a man started whistling at me. The neighborhood I was in was less than swanky. Don't get me wrong I am not above it, in fact it is a lot like the neighborhood I grew up in, it is just that usually when a stranger whistles at you in a neighborhood like that it isn't for wholesome reasons. I intended to ignore him but for some reason I looked across the busy four lane street and what I saw stopped me. The neighborhood was like my childhood, and the man reminded me of my godfather Lupe, so much so that I walked across the street to ask him how I could help him. His name is Juan, a Viet Nam Vet, marine, a good man. I knew none of that when we started speaking, and he probably will never know that I am publicly praising him, not because it is a secret, but because it would not occur to him that he deserves it. Juan put a roof over my head that day, I did not need it but the roof that I had secured had strings attached that I was sure would hurt me in the long run. His offer was simple, watch the place, keep it safe, and clean a little and you can stay here...I was leery at first, did a bit of due diligence to C.Y.O.A. but something about his genuine sincerity moved me just as much as his reminding me of my godfather did. I accepted his offer his, and it turned out to be a very good thing, the least being the roof he put over my head...<br />
<br />
Juan a two time Purple Heart recipiant, paid his pound of flesh twice just so that pieces of shit like Donald trump can slander his ethnicity just to get votes from ignorant white people...because being a rich white douchebag sociopath is better than being a American of Hispanic decent decorated vet who knows what a real day of work means, and what the value of life is. Juan does not like his picture taken so I snuck a shot today...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuE1CvaEN-0xWUUfIUbHoKOf_Zn-2uQD1HuK7oNW0ytgb43gAO9SeLtBdOUVpgoO-3VVNJsRJXdpMJu7KpBeYqpbpIN1ty4QYRGO4xja2vbsOQZhscAUssSbA80txWrvjrpoFx21k3gVc/s1600/20161021_105456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuE1CvaEN-0xWUUfIUbHoKOf_Zn-2uQD1HuK7oNW0ytgb43gAO9SeLtBdOUVpgoO-3VVNJsRJXdpMJu7KpBeYqpbpIN1ty4QYRGO4xja2vbsOQZhscAUssSbA80txWrvjrpoFx21k3gVc/s320/20161021_105456.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
Greetings from the desert<br />
<br /></div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-65898329855895418002016-10-10T10:53:00.002-07:002016-10-10T10:54:35.681-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Just an idea<br />
<br />
<br />
Walking in the middle of madness<br />
Like playing poker<br />
Not knowing<br />
What your hand is<br />
A straight<br />
Or a straight flush<br />
Sandbag or slowroll<br />
No way to know<br />
Where to stand<br />
Just try to talk about it<br />
All of a sudden<br />
Everything<br />
But<br />
You're crazy<br />
No longer fits<br />
Sane people<br />
Stop being rational<br />
That did not work<br />
Becomes<br />
To them<br />
I never tried<br />
Years of bumperbowling<br />
To find a way<br />
Invalidated<br />
By<br />
I (they) just thought of this today<br />
Have you thought of<br />
(You have to do as I say)<br />
Its just an idea<br />
A thought<br />
You might (must) try it<br />
Fine!<br />
Have it your way<br />
I was just trying to help (control)<br />
Have a good day<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwJjyD9ei_SDE7LEspIDooxN4QHF-moePnA8YbozS5mvbyDqA-2X_0dSz3_q0v-KeYOJ2UWZtAM5afDt-JIQtnnSAVWH9JoXktAgCFSp0GGtZEAt8guxmjWEGBCEFUnWi1z4fX30h9BE/s1600/20161010_105343.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwJjyD9ei_SDE7LEspIDooxN4QHF-moePnA8YbozS5mvbyDqA-2X_0dSz3_q0v-KeYOJ2UWZtAM5afDt-JIQtnnSAVWH9JoXktAgCFSp0GGtZEAt8guxmjWEGBCEFUnWi1z4fX30h9BE/s320/20161010_105343.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
Christopher Michael McQueeney©2016</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-24382765479425135282016-10-09T11:26:00.000-07:002016-10-09T11:26:47.316-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So, Wander is on an adventure...not the for pleasure kind of trip...I am on a healing journey. My honest desire is to get better. 4 years trudging this insain track and I am ready for sanity, this train is ready to land...</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-18549570931886526942016-09-10T21:52:00.004-07:002016-10-11T11:09:20.921-07:00maybe So<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
And the curtains fall<br />
<br />
<br />
The light from above<br />
Struck off her eyes<br />
Vicious,<br />
Tricking me<br />
Telling me lies<br />
Out poured her words<br />
You didn't try<br />
Let it sit idle<br />
Let it drift by<br />
Soon enough<br />
Years had gone by<br />
All the while the only thing I could find<br />
Comfort<br />
In<br />
Her hand in mine<br />
A tether<br />
Denying the sky<br />
Staying bound<br />
As the night quenched<br />
Still<br />
The light once staark<br />
Midnight<br />
Pitch dark<br />
The light in her eyes<br />
Her hand in mine<br />
Now I can go<br />
And see what I find<br />
<br />
<br />
Chris McQueeney ©2016not mine</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-88738373801972299102016-09-08T14:07:00.004-07:002016-09-08T14:07:34.412-07:00almost four years, four years of limbo...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
<img height="266" src="https://lonelyplanetwp.imgix.net/2016/07/GettyImages-531114869-4327c358b3c2.jpg?fit=min&q=40&sharp=10&vib=20&w=1470" width="400" /><br />
<br />
<br />
Well, the thing is<br />
<br />
<br />
What would you do<br />
If you knew<br />
It was your turn to die<br />
Would you bury your head<br />
Practice your lies<br />
Tell um its fine<br />
Can't look in their eyes<br />
Look at that<br />
Time to go<br />
Really must fly<br />
All the while these creatures<br />
These things<br />
Start careening inside<br />
The cavernous expanses<br />
Where once was your mind<br />
What would you do<br />
The day that you die<br />
Harsh words on the phon<br />
no tearful goodbye<br />
No music to sooth<br />
Your way on your ride<br />
This day of your death<br />
Started out with a lie<br />
What would I do<br />
Should I know<br />
That day I would Die<br />
The last thing I would do<br />
Is start off with a lie<br />
I would spend it in love<br />
This last day of this life<br />
Most of all though<br />
even though I won't lie<br />
I would tell no one I know<br />
Or strangers beside<br />
It's best that they go<br />
About their lives<br />
It is not their fault I know<br />
Today is my day to die<br />
<br />
<br />
Chris McQueeney ©9/8/16<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-66033730732763283762016-08-24T16:02:00.001-07:002016-08-24T16:02:18.519-07:00To see or not to see...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The hubris of sight<br />
<br />
<br />
The blind are blind<br />
Not by design,<br />
Nor choice<br />
Not a matter of finding<br />
The voice of their eyes<br />
As if sight came about<br />
By practice<br />
Sheer will<br />
Clearly defined<br />
Followed to the line<br />
Planned to the T<br />
Regimins<br />
Goal oriented maps<br />
Laid out to find your way to sight<br />
Are you fucking kidding me?<br />
Blind is blind<br />
What good is a technicolor<br />
Annotated<br />
Map<br />
That can only be used<br />
If you can see<br />
Before you tried<br />
Think this too dramatic<br />
Not in the least<br />
This was simply an anology<br />
An example<br />
Clearly defined<br />
To show you<br />
How little you see<br />
Even though you have sight<br />
<br />
<br />
Chris McQueeney ©2016</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-2121012563291337412016-08-24T11:43:00.002-07:002016-08-24T11:43:44.061-07:00Shadow wrote, when I read She spoke<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
Those moments were important to me...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Life at times<br />
Becomes scarce<br />
When day blends into day<br />
Is it Wednesday<br />
Or was that<br />
Yesterday, or tomorrow<br />
You borrow from yourself<br />
Just to live another day<br />
Only thing is<br />
You don't know what part<br />
Of you<br />
You borrowed 4:45 to 6:38<br />
From<br />
And like buns in the oven<br />
They rise to the occasion<br />
Those borrowed parts of a life<br />
Filling the holes quite close<br />
Leaving me relieved<br />
Because closer then I'll be<br />
To the end of the day<br />
When life has its way<br />
After it is done with you<br />
Had its say<br />
You think, dam! Not so bad a day<br />
Not knowing what going where you went<br />
Taking borrowed parts<br />
Left a mint<br />
Of wreakage in its wake<br />
Until<br />
One day<br />
Purely out of desperation<br />
Couldn't tell you why really<br />
You walk backwards<br />
Seeing<br />
How many<br />
Day after days<br />
Actually went past<br />
Then you see<br />
A conversation<br />
That did not end<br />
It was borrowed<br />
By me<br />
No clue what there could be<br />
More important you see<br />
Than the reply<br />
Expected from me<br />
But knowing me<br />
Just keep breathing, being, living,<br />
Seeing one more day<br />
Was probably why I borrowed<br />
This conversation<br />
From me<br />
Returned it when I could<br />
And me<br />
Standing there<br />
Thinking for all this time<br />
It was thee who failed to respond<br />
Not me<br />
How fickle<br />
Life can be<br />
Were I to have the chance<br />
To go back the months and years<br />
To that day<br />
I the borrower came to take that<br />
Conversation away<br />
I would do the same<br />
But on my hand<br />
A tattoo would say<br />
Don't lose that conversation<br />
I loaned to me today<br />
Because I treasured<br />
All those moments<br />
Talking and typing with<br />
Amy May<br />
Hello my friend<br />
It's been many a day<br />
Since I read your words<br />
And I felt this way<br />
How's your daughter<br />
How's writing<br />
How are things<br />
On that end of the bridge<br />
Not really so far away<br />
On the off chance<br />
Maybe this time<br />
Remind me<br />
When it's my turn<br />
To say<br />
Hello there,<br />
How was your day?<br />
<br />
<br />
Chris McQueeney @just saw this, Wednesday 8/24/2016<br />
<br />
Shadow wrote a poem and She spoke of a friendship that abrubtly ended, no word, one day quite some time back...got me feeling sad, and remorseful because I was on the other side of that poem long ago on that day...I found a string of emails that I had archived to save, because they were important, because who they were from, what they contained... Before my life was destroyed that day or the next, things are broken in my memory of that time. Disjointed, we spoke while I was camping, and away in New Mexico, her daughter and a friend had pizza and a sleepover in there somewhere amidst talk of children and words and soul treasures to be protected, stored safe below the tempest above the tidal wave, like an avalanche in my mind after digging in the mine only to find it was me that didn't respond when I was out of my mind, not an excuse just a mitigating circumstances beyond my experience...I never meant to violate you...neither by lack of reply, or contact so far away from the last I contacted you...I hope you read this, that it helps eased the hurt I caused...maybe, I truly hope, You will comment, or call, or email, so I can say I am sorry, missed you, it has been a long time Ms. May, hello, how the hell are you today?<br />
<br />
~wander~<br />
<br />
Thanks Shadow for the reminder, your words were haunting, painful to read, for some reason, the arch of your neck, I clicked on your image then followed the link to Your blog and read the words, the words You wrote, but heard them as if She was the author, even though her writing is pros, She never got the chance to share her poetry with me...lol, look at that, a bunch of run on sentences with overly expressive grammer, haven't written pros in quite some time, almost 3 + years...not well at least...I have to pick up where I left off with<br />
Having Met Me After I Was Already Dead...that is a story that needs telling...today...</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-47403503589855624172016-03-21T22:56:00.000-07:002016-03-21T22:56:08.068-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
<br />
Be smiling<br />
<br />
<br />
Bobby Fischer<br />
Ain't got nothing on me<br />
See,<br />
I ain't even playing<br />
But from my glare<br />
You can see<br />
That dumb motherfucker<br />
Made the wrong move<br />
And<br />
I put my fucking money<br />
On him<br />
I would play<br />
But I am a girl<br />
And blond as can be<br />
No one would play<br />
Let alone place money<br />
On the line<br />
Against<br />
The likes of me<br />
Some day that little shit will<br />
Be smiling<br />
As my documents he'll<br />
Be filing<br />
At the law firm I'll be running<br />
You'll see...<br />
<br />
<br />
Chris McQueeney©2016<br />
<br />
<br />
http://magpietales.blogspot.com/2016/03/mag-309.html?m=1<br />
check out the Mag</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-44476333741909029942016-01-07T01:15:00.002-08:002016-01-07T01:15:15.148-08:00Tater, my good friend, bravo to you!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
<br />
TaterA few years back I decided to try something that I had always wanted to do, make hasheesh! There are several ways to process cannabis into hasheesh, but I did not like any of the options. Some of them are very dangerous, some not so much. I decided to use my own method... I am not going to describe how I went about that but suffice it to say that you can not find it by google, and was very successful! The yield was higher than I had anticipated, and I had an abundance of hi-grade hasheesh... That's not what I want to write about though. At one point I gave a good portion to a friend, with one step left...I had no idea how much I gave him, and the funny thing is that he had no idea what to do with it, he didn't need it, but hell, who turns down random hasheesh falling from the sky? Flash forward three years, and that friend tells me that he was going to use the Hash for something, as an alternative treatment modality for a friend with stage 4 cancer! He said several times that he would not have been able to do that, help his dying friend, without as he put it "your generous donation"; I felt then, as I do now, that I had simply given a good friend something I had no use for but thought was really cool. My friend, I will call him "Tater" to maintain his anonymity, prepared the hasheesh for his cancer treatments. Twenty one days, one gram, three times a day, holy shit, sixty three grams...good fucking yield! I went over to his house while he was preparing the hash and it reeked. I didn't say anything, I have manners like that. A little while after I got there he looked at me and said "smell that? That's your hash." Then he told me his plans for it. I took him at his word, but was dubious that it would be of benefit. Cancer is a killer. That was the last he said about it, till about an hour ago. Tater's dying friend was just pronounced cancer free, three large tumors gone! Wow, about blew my fucking mind! And still Tater offered me credit for being a part. But the reality was that it was his idea, and his alone, and any good that arises from it should be heaped on his very deserving shoulders! Now, I can not claim that it was the cannabis that brought about this miracle, but the amazing findings about the very real anti cancer properties that are coming out are telling! I am glad that something good may have come from such a bad time in my life...good job Tater, you are the hero today!<br />
<br />
Chris McQueeney 2016</div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-10993381840731962152016-01-03T23:20:00.003-08:002016-01-04T13:36:23.039-08:00the mag, some number<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijmuThFrxefLIbE-EPSqCboYrd45Cmc5iCxuW3gjAK8iF_TOKr7XIRrS1wYCtRdKOKM9b9sSrsnexsJ7qsuXxujHL0ASK7aZIWkzn4_kSZAB_DCKHRODDrEwe0AXsC7rVCgIyTWPbOC5o/s1600/rain+Wolfgang+Suschitzky+-+Charing+Cross+Road%252C+London%252C+1937.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijmuThFrxefLIbE-EPSqCboYrd45Cmc5iCxuW3gjAK8iF_TOKr7XIRrS1wYCtRdKOKM9b9sSrsnexsJ7qsuXxujHL0ASK7aZIWkzn4_kSZAB_DCKHRODDrEwe0AXsC7rVCgIyTWPbOC5o/s400/rain+Wolfgang+Suschitzky+-+Charing+Cross+Road%252C+London%252C+1937.jpg" width="287" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Just such as mine<br />
<br />
The seas in the streets<br />
This night<br />
Were wide and deep<br />
As I made my way to you<br />
What bravery it must take<br />
For me to slake<br />
My thirst<br />
On you<br />
All you see<br />
Is me standing there<br />
Cheeks rose<br />
Wind tussled hair<br />
And just a glint<br />
Of a grin<br />
Tugging my lips<br />
Slip past<br />
The first glance<br />
I traveled miles<br />
And miles<br />
All the while<br />
You sat in comfort<br />
Not knowing the effort<br />
That was made<br />
But this kiss<br />
We have<br />
I would have missed<br />
And sadly I'd have been<br />
Had you not stayed home<br />
Warm and safe<br />
Here to answer a call<br />
Just such as mine<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
May I come in?<br />
<br />
<br />
Chris McQueeney ©2016<br />
<br /></div>
Wanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12384347526625976847noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7935594309491848290.post-36936540719778039612015-12-20T17:06:00.000-08:002015-12-20T17:07:35.768-08:00PDA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
With me<br />
<br />
<br />
PDA<br />
Public Displays of Affection<br />
P retty<br />
D amned<br />
A nnoying<br />
If you ask me<br />
Why the hell<br />
Are you inflicting me<br />
With your puppy dog love<br />
Forcing everyone to consider<br />
Why you are so happy<br />
While they feel<br />
So crappy<br />
Most of the time<br />
I understand a kiss is nice<br />
But let me give you<br />
Some advice<br />
It is even better<br />
In private<br />
See<br />
In private<br />
It doesn't matter<br />
Where I sit<br />
I will never be able to see<br />
You will no longer<br />
Inflict on me<br />
How she goes all<br />
Week in the knees<br />
Or how tightly<br />
You squeeze<br />
Her to stay on her feet<br />
How swept away<br />
One woman could be<br />
I try to imagine it was me<br />
Clutched so tightly<br />
She pressed so tightly<br />
And me<br />
Sitting here alone<br />
Now so lonely<br />
And me<br />
So so angrily<br />
Viewing<br />
Your<br />
P<br />
D<br />
A<br />
Silently simmering<br />
Jealously glimpsing<br />
Her with you<br />
And not<br />
With me<br />
<br />
<br />
Chris McQueeney ©2015<br />
<br />
<br />
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