Below Freezing

Below Freezing

Yes, I've been bold.  It's been beyond being cold.  Through the rapidity of stupidity we let out all of the spare hot air.  Now we just sit here in despair while wondering if anyone really cares.

We chose to lose by consuming too much booze even though there was no ego to bruise.  We just thought to keep on grinning.  We just thought to keep on winning and we just thought to be owning the top and the bottom of the inning.  Now we just cry as we shout in realizing that we absolutely struck out!

We don't need an official to blow the whistle in order to make it official.  This is our last epistle and so the laugh is in our epitaph which looks to have been written by a pink giraffe that's sipping from a beer filled carafe.  It didn't even bother with writing out the gaffes and so in between the fits and giggles are but dim memories of what was a nice warm draft.

We laughed at the emergency beacon's jargon as if were a judge offering up a dumbass plea bargain but the verdict long since had us pegged and so to whatever the self imagined jury we've begun to profusely beg for stupidly not believing that it was below freezing.  Funny how you can hear yourself wheezing.

We've turned on every light in sight!  It's stunning how we've managed to keep the dryer running.  We're involved in the maximum participation in heat dissipation.  We've spread about every warm quilt the grand ma built and have even thrown about warm towels which to me look like watchful owls but all we've managed to see is one goddamn degree!

Yes I've been bold.  Too bad I won't live to get old.  To the grim reaper our souls have been sold.  We drank until our senses tanked and then on the lever we foolishly yanked and so we let out all of the spare warm air.  Now we just sit here in despair while wondering if anyone really cares.

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When what we did wouldn't even occur to a stupid kid.

December 14^th, 2016

The Choice

The Choice

The choice is stark but the choice need not be dark.  All we have to understand is that we are the ones that are in command when it comes to our selection for this election.  The future need not require a suture.  It can be as bright as we choose to make it.  Subterfuge is that of smoke and mirrors and so we can break it.

Our universe is diverse and so we need not put the car in reverse.  The ship will not be sinking if we implement forward thinking.  Disunity need not be let go with impunity.  We can squelch it with the hope of the vote.  We can squelch it with the freedom of religion for one and all to practice without ill will and we can squelch it by inviting every race, creed and gender to the table.  This will make our great country even more able.

We are better than demeaning those that we oppose.  We can lift them up as well as those willing to take the journey towards the movement towards improvement.  Rather than obstruct let us choose to construct a better land where one and all are invited to take a stand.  Let us look to work together so as to take care of each other.  Let us have respect for each father, sister, mother and brother.  Let not the numbers in jail swell.  Let us establish an environment where one and all can excel.

Let our focus be pure of thought where we can all come to understand the plan and where we disagree know that we don't have to automatically upend it but know that we can work to amend it.  The precipice that's so often painted to be dark where one will fall into a pit of death can serve as a jumping off point where we can fertilize the valley below so as to watch the seeds grow.  Let our destination be one of education where our students are not strapped by the depths of debt.

The choice is one of opportunity.  The choice is one of diversity and the choice is one of hope for a brighter future that we can build together.  So let us fly like birds of a feather where we welcome one and all and where we help those who look to fall.  The daring is in the caring.  The challenge is to overcome malice and the answer to the question is in our willingness to take control of our fate with which to make this great nation one of salvation.  All you have to understand is that we are the ones that are in command.

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When from the beginning we should all be about winning!

November 7^th, 2016

Mouse

Mouse

There's a mouse in the house and it's taken over like an unruly spouse.  No matter what you do and no matter what you say it decides when to come out to play and always figures out how to get away.  It's like a slave that misbehaves and is never going to obey and so you become the molded clay formed out of whatever it has 

defined as being on your mind.

It plans and it plots and has never got shot and so there is no carcass that's begun to rot.  It's not a dim memory about which you've forgot and so you've been saddled with a battle that you've yet to begin to win.  There's the talk of gossip that's blowing in the wind and so you've decided not to let any of the neighbors in.  It's even been said that you've seen the mouse grin as it dances to the fat lady's violin and all of this is to your chagrin!

A capture would bring rapture but all you seem to hear is laughter from the rafters.  The more it scurries the more you hurry and the more you worry.  There is no curfew as long as you think that it's laughing at you!  You stare at the mousetrap while drinking a nightcap while it doesn't even sneeze at the big hunk of cheese and so you've never realized the mistake of it nibbling on your steak and so it continues having fun while consuming that which is well done.  You've fallen asleep reading the Sunday comics while dreaming that you were the pun.  Have you ever noticed that it never really runs?

At its peak it might let out a little squeak but that's just to let you know of its daring while getting you to swearing and so it is that you've again lost your bearings and as a matter of fact you still don't know where it's at!  Do you remember the last time you took to a baseball bat?  As it was dashing so went the smashing to where it took more than a fee to replace the HD TV and still that little thing runs free.  The last time you saw it the little varmint was taking a sip of your tea.

There is a mouse in your house and it's more troublesome than any spiteful spouse.  It so rules over what you think that other thoughts have become extinct.  You chase it but you cannot erase it and so goes the hunt where it pulls off miraculous stunts.  Perhaps it's because you've been smoking too many blunts.  You're wet with regret but the causal effects are not over yet, not as long as your pet moves faster than a jet.  Still it does not sneeze at the cheese and so you've been brought to your knees and if it had a camera it would tell you to say "Cheese"!

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When it's with the chase that the fun has just begun without you knowing that it's already won.

October 9^th, 2016

Hollering at the Pigeons!

Hollering at the Pigeons!

It wasn't just a smidgeon.  He was hollering at the pigeons!  It was like he had some kind of invention to make them pay attention and so to my dismay they seemed to listen to what he had to say.

It was just him and his empty grocery cart right there in front of Wal-Mart.  The sign he wrote was a simple quote where he silently yelped for help but there was no one there with which to hold a conversation.  So I guess his mind proposed to squeak what he had to speak to those with feathered beaks and so the words were heard by the birds.

Though he may have looked to be disturbed his meaning would never be kicked to the curb.  It wasn't like he was delirious and what was said seemed to be quite serious.  It was like the flock took stock and so with his permission they were happy to listen.  The day was gray but not hazy and he didn't appear to be the least bit crazy.

It was as if he existed in a reality of normality even though the picture begged to differ from what was usually painted but the image was not tainted.  From what I could see he had achieved chi and so he and his companions were completely free.  It was as if on a whim they decided to fly with him .  It was as if the world gave pause for Santa Clause where he had no misgivings about what he was thankful to be giving.

Though he strived he was glad to be alive and it was as if the pigeons knew and so in celebration they flew on cue.  It was as if he had choreographed a play that made bright the day and so there was no despair and he made me feel happy to be there.  It was as if he added zest to the moist fresh air and so there was no strain from the moistening of the rain.

Though the world continued spinning it did not stop him from skinning and grinning.  What he said was better than the bits of bread his new found friends had been fed.  There were more than visions of sugarplums dancing in his head and all you had to do was look into the dye of the sky and you could see why.  The wings of the pigeons exploded as if it were the Fourth of July.  You will never witness a more cheerful guy who had more than a smidgeon to say to the pigeons.

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When to the birds he perhaps called for the first day of fall!

September 22^nd, 2016

Saying Goodbye to August

Saying Goodbye to August

In saying goodbye to August I'm being realistic in saying that time was ballistic.  It seemed to have flown by so fast that I didn't have a chance to make it last.  It's as though I couldn't bet on seeing a rosy sunset because as soon as I looked over my shoulder its warm view was over.  It was as if summer didn't even get a chance to smolder and so none of us have had a chance to grow old before it started getting cold.

It's kind of neat to begin to turn on the heat but there are still warm ripples and waves that I wish to eat without the taste of geese flying south simmering in my mouth.  I've yet to bid farewell to balmy summer trails and I've yet to stumble across old railroad rails.  I've yet to sing of Giant Springs and I've yet to sit in playground swings.  I feel rushed as if the sound of summer is going to be hushed and so I'm fearing not hearing the rhythm of a beat that's been serenaded with heat.

I know why I don't want to say goodbye.  It is because it makes me want to cry.  I don't want the day to fade into yesterday and I don't want warm breezes that please us to begin to tease us with a winter that's coming and so I keep on humming as if to deplore it to ignore it.  I do not want this weather to stop because I've yet to make it to the mountaintop!  I thought time was mine with which to climb to higher heights with which to take on glorious sights.

It is to my dismay that things soon will no longer be this way.  It was for August that I was yearning and for her my heart is still burning.  I refuse to let her fall because of the onset of fall.  She is my sweetheart after all and so it is that I am still determined to deck the halls.  I will let no season bury her because I'm going to marry her and with it my memories will carry her where every warm breath will stay the execution of death.

Saying goodbye to August is a cause for which I pause.  She is like a singer and so I wish her voice to linger.  I wish for her song to caress me all day long to where all warm nights are free of fright and so I dream as I flow down her stream.  It is her face that I wish to continue to beam as the glistening of the morning dew again comes true.  Know that when you leave that I will sincerely miss you.

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When in knowing she is going I still try not to cry.

August 26^th, 2016

Spyglass

Spyglass

I'm looking at what I'm doing and I'm looking at what I'm pursuing only to discover that I'm bringing the mirror nearer so that I may see that much clearer.  I'm looking through the spyglass but not to see what I saw last.  It is to see where I need to be and how I'm going to dare to get there.  In lots of ways it's like taking a breath of fresh air and in other ways it's like looking into a scare which may verily turn out to be a nightmare.

The one thing about a boat is that you cannot always steer clear of fear.  It's like a monster that will suddenly appear.  You cannot let it stop you so even without knowing you must keep on going.  Sometimes it can be like not having oars where you have to find a way to keep on rowing and so it is that I understand that with any plan you may have to change it to rearrange it.  It's that of having a goal that will become an integral part of your soul.  It's the thing that kills an envious troll.

You might cry and indeed you might die but let it not be from not giving it a try.  Sometimes even when you fail you prevail for we indeed learn when we burn.  Those who don't, wont.  Those that try to know will continue to grow and so flew the falcon.  Look at it go.  The excitement is in the dance with chance to where you make so much noise that there will be an avalanche.  At least someone will be aware that you were there to go on a tear.

There are those who will always stand opposed.  They live to be full of doubt so bother not in trying to figure them out.  Just let them sit there and pout as you pull in nets full of trout.  Those that try to truly fly will be left with the lingering thought of again touching the sky.  This is why I explore.  This is why I soar and this is why of this universe I desire even more and so it is that I live to see what gives.

Even though every sunrise is a pleasant surprise what I set out to do is to paint it in a different hue.  Have you ever wondered what was the smell of a mountain's morning dew?  I wonder why a second cannot be more than a few.  Though I'm not fraught I'm overcome with a preponderance of thought.  It's about what could be that tantalizes me and it's the possibility of finding out that sets me free.  That's why I find it a blast to look through that spyglass.

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When to look will get you hooked to becoming even more aware of what's out there.

May 2^nd, 2016

Back in the Pilot's Seat

Back in the Pilot's Seat

It's good to be back in the pilot's seat.  It was shattering how I got knocked out of it where the turbulence was more than a disturbance.  I was so stunned and had bitten my tongue to where there was ear ringing while the demons were singing only for me to scarcely recall a certain downfall.

It wasn't just that I was attacked.  I was hacked and bowled over by scurrilous acts that ranged from the atmosphere becoming thick from me being sick to lightning bolts that came in the form of insults.  It was too much for any instrument panel to handle and it was too windy and dark to make use of even the thought of a candle.

I guess the thing about prevailing is that it won't always involve smooth sailing.  It's when the flying gets rough that things get tough.  You feel intellectually dumb because your brain has grown numb from being overexposed to a wicked barrage that cannot be dislodged.  The cacophony is such that a computer couldn't buffer and so you indeed suffer.

You'd be surprised by those you thought to be nice who will not give you a lick of advice.  They will wish you luck while solutions they will duck in hopes that you die as you attempt to fly and there are even those that will lie just to see your dreams go bust over trust so as to leave you dead and in the dust.  These types of people I look at with disgust.  If you have nothing constructive to say then just get the hell out of my way!

I've seen my wings on fire.  I've seen my engines about to expire and I've even seen my life about to become but an outlier.  To rise as you fall, to rise as you stall and to rise as you crawl will astonish them all!  What's amazing is to see those that will shoot at your parachute which will make you clearly understand that there are some that just don't want to see you land.  What they want is for you to kick the can.  They compose the flack when you're under attack.

What gives the enemy a scare is when you dare to go there.  It's when you don't seek permission to continue with the mission.  It's when you defy their desire

for you to die and it's when by sheer determination you make it to your destination.  When of this they see the naysayers will flee and what will stall the activities of a false friend is when you gather the nerve to do it again.

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When even in the pitch black of night you figure out how to fly upright.

April 29^th, 2016

Fallen Star

Fallen Star

One of our stars has fallen.  Tragic is the fabric which is interwoven into too short a lifespan which I have yet to understand.  His performances were intense and will live beyond the past tense.  If you didn't know him all you can do is listen to his works to perhaps glimpse a personality that no longer walks in this reality.

He was a jewel that was so cool that it is unfortunate that this is not some kind of April Fool's.  The lose ought to be criminal in that a history rich in wisdom and creativity has been egregiously stolen from us, never to be replaced, making this a fact that is difficult to face.  His accomplishments will never be defaced for when he played he took us to another time and to another place and so it is difficult to stop the tears from rolling down my face.

He made a few groovy movies and all of them were tinted with a strain of purple rain.  He just kept it real based on how he came to feel and so he showered down upon us emotions so that we all had to deal and this gave him a personal appeal.  He touched us and without much fuss we went with his flow and so it was his music that we came to know only to discover that this wasn't just for show.

Was it not a summer or so ago that this fat cat was making a comeback?  He was committed and he certainly did it!  Now it's like some black hole has swallowed him whole.  The only way to reach beyond the event horizon is to play a tune in hopes that he will be back soon.  Too young has set this rising sun that eclipsed those who dared to stare at the glare of the improvements in his movements.  The reverberations will forever last and will continue to remind us that there will never be another of his class.

He was a prince and the angels will sing that he was a king.  He was the ultimate musician that did his own thing.  All of his activities were intertwined with creativity such that we came to know that he could make any stage glow and if you were ever blessed with a personal performance you became aware of the fact that he was truly enormous.  Though he has physically stepped away, his music is most certainly here to stay as some of us look back to discover some of his long lost album covers.

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When it just ain't right to see him disappear into the night.

April 21^st, 2016

Rigging It Up

Typically plain is not Jane but in this case it's going to be true in what I'm going to do.  I'm going to take the old stereo and perhaps the new and I'm going to rig them up even if it requires super glue.  I'm going to act like an electrician in competition to wire every amp and every speaker is going to be licked with a stamp so that postage is paid for the noise that's about to be made!

You will see me by listening to my favorite CD and so Guardian Girl is going to rock your world.  Girls and boys will be Poised for Noise and I will give everybody a start when I crank up Fire Heart.  It will be within the electricity that everyone finds felicity.  With brimstone or a pebble I will be welding heavy metal so that everyone in town will hear my sound and so much the better if I make the cops frown.

No one will strain and no one will complain when there are so much good vibes for everyone to gain and we won't stop, not for a blizzard and not for the rain!  We're just going to pump up the volume and pump up the gain and after the track is over we're going to do it all over again.  Perhaps then you will see that plain is not Jane and perhaps then you will see that I am absolutely insane.  It is the best way to be when not feeling any pain!

Even if you're not the closest of friends you're invited on in to put your CD on for a spin.  It is our mission to listen.  It is our mission to glisten and it is our mission to break every tradition of sound allowed.  Why do you think we play it so loud?  It is because we are happy and it is because we are proud and it is because sanity has been disavowed!  If you look outside your window you will see the reverberations in the clouds.

There will be no reneging about this rigging.  I'm going to have fun with this welding gun and when I'm done we're going to have so much fun that you will be able to see the smile that's set upon the rising sun!  Amps will light up like sparks in the dark.  Turntables will glow just to let you know that they're ready to go and speakers will belch forth woofers that at the least will disturb the

peace to where the landlord will revoke my lease.  This I will do for me and this I will do for you for we are all a part of the same damn crew!

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When what you do is not just for you.

April 9^th, 2016

https://goo.gl/kzNLnE

The Game of Games

The Game of Games

This was the game of games where Jane was not plain.  Carolina was number one and Villanova was number two.  It was a game where in the end Carolina was supposed to win.  The legendary Michael Jordan came out to give Carolina a momentous shout out!  It was even televised on three television channels.  One was for national coverage and the other two were respectively for the team you chose to root for.  Never had this been done before.

The first half proved to be easy math but Villanova kept things close.  It was a performance for which Carolina was not going to boast.  As the chimes rang Villanova hit a three pointer with which to change the tide and it was on this momentum that they began to ride.  What got into the mix was more than pride.  Villanova felt they had the ability and soon began to see the possibility and so it made sense to maintain a hot defense.  Carolina was unable to run and gun and so we were all now able to see the plausibility of a setting sun.

As the end came near the crowd began to wildly cheer!  Villanova was not about to choke and they played with absolutely no fear.  Carolina played as if they had a ship that they were unable to steer.  How to defeat their foe became muddy waters that looked not to be so clear.  The plan to fast break seemed to have sank in the middle of the lake.  Villanova controlled the tempo.  Villanova controlled the flow and Villanova controlled what they were going to let us know and that was how in the end they were going to win.

Carolina was not about to be denied so with but seconds left the game was tied.  They had no foul to give and Villanova knew this and so set out to pursue this.  With but seconds left on the clock with a war tied at seventy four ten brave men took to the floor.  The sweat from all of them profusely began to pour.  All Carolina needed was one defensive stop so as to enter into the chimes of overtime.  Villanova passed the ball in and shot for glory and this brought a stupendous end to a magnificent story!

This was the game of games where Jane was not plain.  Carolina was number one and Villanova was number two but in the end the underdog would win and so to the victor came shouts and wide open grins.  Villanova continued to breathe because Villanova continued to believe.  It was only after they were done, it was only after they had won and it was only after the setting of a glorious sun that the opposed rose to garner victory's belief, however so brief.

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When the war meant more than the score and so it was the banner that the victor wore.

April 5^th, 2016

Pet Jet

Pet Jet

The thing about this jet was that it wasn't supposed to have been built just yet.  Lots of cadavers only lived long enough to be soaking wet and their sacrifice was made with little or no regret.  The trainees didn't understand that she needed to be treated as a pet.  The inventor didn't have the clearance to be allowed on the set.

Some would try.  Some would fry and some would die.  No one seemed able to get her to fly.  The inventor would lose sleep only to sit down to cry.  It was alleged that some general would not allow him to fly.  Allegedly it had something to do with the top secret telemetry and how the boy just wasn't of the correct chemistry.  Crazy things like that danced in the boy's head and so he continued with his work out in his own little shed.

The way to do it was to talk to it but not as a thing but as a woman who could beautifully sing.  He broke through the encryption by sending some commands in Egyptian and that's when the boy was able to snatch the lid off of the pyramid.  That's when like birds of a feather he and his girlfriend were able to get with each other and that's when they grew and that's when they flew.

Have no doubt that the brass found out and so at the boy they began to ferociously shout!  They did not realize that the two were still connected and that the bird was not about to leave her lover to be neglected.  She lifted off without a single solitary sound and landed next to him right on the ground.  Then it blurted out a warning to cease and desist and to not resist.  The general was surprised and did not know what to make of this.

After much thought where in the boardroom the brass fought it was decided to let the little boy have access to his little pet toy.  As far as they were concerned it was the only way to learn how to make the jet burn.  Nobody had a clue of all the marvelous things these two could do and the aircraft didn't even require the semblance of a crew.  As long as you were plugged into each other's soul the good times would continue to rock and roll.

The thing about this jet besides the fact that it was not supposed to have been built yet was the fact that it had to be treated like a pet and the younger you were, the easier it was to make this occur.  So it was that the brass had a young boy with his favorite joy.  The next battle ahead was to make it destroy.  The boyfriend and the girlfriend had already prepared for this and so the general faced his greatest fear when the project just up and disappeared.

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

 Copyright?  When the intent was to augment.

March 17^th, 2016

In Like Flint

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When the won't stop until they are forced to.

March 6th, 2016

My Life on Ice

My Life on Ice

I've put my life on ice because I've found paradise and so it is that I've chosen to be frozen only to find improvement in my movement.  I've even been frequented with the occasion of being able to raise my chalice to the Aurora Borealis and so I've found the big sky to be the apple of my eye and so like an eagle I find myself able to fly.  This is a truth that I am glad not to deny.

Often I love the wind when it gets to howling.  It does not necessarily get my face to scowling and so it is that I am glad for the whispery weather that I've had that's been filled with a smattering of leaves scattering.  I love the snow and I don't mind if she appears not to want to go.  She paints a glowing picture that helps me see into infinity and so it is that my mind is able to chill as I meander over rolling hills as my heart seeks each and every mountain peak.

This solitude has refortified my fortitude and so an exuberant mood is what I exude as I stand tall to inhale the call of an oasis away from mundane places as I look into the clouds that tantalize me with interesting faces.  What I see is where I want to be and so it is that I've discovered what it is to be me and what it is to be free and so it is that I've come to know that I do not want to go.  It is the smell of the trail.  It is the smell of every detail and it is the smell of the groundswell that comes from the last best place and so eternally there is a smile on my face.

I've never been here before and so I explore only to discover everything new that comes into view and so it is that I always have something to do, even if it is nothing more than observing the morning dew.  It glistens and so I listen.  The wind whips and so I take a sip and the water falls and so I hear the call of a mighty thunder never to be put asunder and a humble rumble that is moving because it is so soothing.  Some do not understand why I am here when the picture is perfectly clear.  What I'm seeing has become a part of my being and so here I play and so here I stay while feeling what Montana has to say.

I've put my life on ice because I've found paradise and I am ecstatic because my days are not static.  Things change to rearrange like the shimmer of the Missouri river and so I inhale to exhale every detail as I stroll down the infinite trails.  Upon every mountain is written a story to tell and so it is when I sleep I have sweet dreams to keep and when I awake I am greeted by sweet tender snowflakes.  I do not regret a single sunset and I continue to find every sunrise a pleasant surprise and so here I stay and I would not have it any other way.

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When it became clear why I remain here.

January 16^th, 2016

How the Fire Started

How the Fire Started

About this I do not lie.  It was like a lightning bolt came out of the sky and so in earnest my interest was set ablaze like a furnace.  What I came to know was this old piano that sat down the hall at my grandmother's house.  We played it and it seemed to play us and so good times and good song sang in our hearts from dawn to dusk.

My mother saw this to be more than window dressing and so she entered me into piano lessons.  I can say that when it was all said and done the nuns were not fun.  There was a proper posture you had to foster.  There was a way you set your fingers upon the keys and there was damn near a way you even held your knees.  Such task masters were hard to please.

Then there were the notes you had to understand in order to fully take command.  The thing that my teachers treated as a curse was that they would play the melody first.  I was exact in playing it back and in succeeding I saw no need for reading.  They acted in fear as if they did not want me to play by ear.  They treated this ability like a scourge and from me they wanted the talent to be completely purged.

A little bit longer I classically learned in Catholic school and so I found that not a single instructor could be fooled.  My ear was my tool and so I saw the taskmasters to be a tad bit cruel.  There were a few of two civilian teachers who were the same at what they saw that did not necessarily put them in awe.  I saw them as cops who were not going to make me stop and so though I no longer bothered with piano lessons I continued to explore and so my spirit of song continued to soar.  I practically played every keyboard I found in every store and so it was that I wanted more.

Soon it was off to high school where I continued to exercise my tool and then there was the knowledge of college.  Whether it was Fayetteville State, Duke or the University of Chapel Hill it was in every one of their practice rooms that I found the piano to be a thrill!  Sometimes when I was alone I would even dabble with the xylophone.  It is what I used to do.  It was a thing that I was simply into in creating music with which to abuse it.  Then I came upon the computer which only seemed to help in lighting the fuse and so I have continued on this wondrous muse.  It's how this fire got started and so from this quest I've never departed.  It goes back to my grandmother's piano.  It is when the skies parted.

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When often it is interesting the gravel upon which we travel.

January 4^th, 2016