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couchgrouch

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couchgrouch last won the day on April 13

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  1. Life Wish novella

    Hi folks…I’m a little stymied about what to say but here it is. My novella is now available on Amazon Kindle for 2.99. It’s called “Life Wish” and I think I can recommend it with pride. Over the past few years I’ve been steadily running low on steam as far as enthusiasm for lyrics and poetry. I feel I’ve approached it from every angle conceivable and now it’s time to move on. I got the idea for Life Wish several years ago and originally planned on writing it as a screenplay. I abandoned that and wrote it as a novella. I’m very proud of it, especially since I’m even less drawn to changing my ways at fifty-two than I was when I first hit the internet in Feb. 1999. I’m fairly certain people will be entertained by it, or I wouldn’t have published it on Kindle. Below is a link or you can just do a search for “Life Wish, Robert George “, on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074Y87FPQ/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1503187384&sr=1-1&keywords=Life+Wish+Robert+George Here is an excerpt to give readers a sample of its flavor. There is a post on Musesmuse from 2014 in which someone mentioned they preferred my style of writing from when I first came on the internet to the style I developed later on. Anyone else who feels that way should enjoy the book. I hope they, and anyone else who buys it does. I’m grateful to all those who’ve read my stuff for nearly twenty years now, especially those who turned my lyrics in to wonderful songs. At any age, there’s always time for one more life wish. Robert George 8-19-2017 Claire walked to her prowler car, stood and looked around. The Camry. The VW bus. A calico cat staring through the glass door of the office. What could it hurt? Van Zandt’s off for two weeks starting tomorrow. She walked over to the VW and looked at the doors in front of it. She put her ear to a few. Then she walked up the cement stairs. They were stained with fossilized gum, bird shit, dried soda spills, a few shards of glass and cigarette butts. She put her ear to a few more doors, feeling like an Apache brave with his ear to some railroad tracks. Bingo…205. TV…Skinemax from the sound of it. She knocked firmly three times. She heard footsteps and a balding man in his mid-30s answered the door. No chain. Light brown hair that hadn’t been washed in weeks was imprisoned in a pony tail tied with a big rubber band. He wore a wrinkled white t-shirt with a decal on the front. It resembled that famous blurry picture of “Big Foot” strolling through the trees. He had a mole that looked like a melted Hershey’s Kiss on the left side of his upper lip. He spoke with a squeaky, rodent-like voice. “You’re early…aaand you’re dressed like a cop. Dammit, you’re supposed to be dressed in plain clothes, with a trench coat. Plus, you’re supposed to be a redhead. Fuck. Never mind…you’ll do.” He looked out the door, right and left. “Well…get in here.” Claire hesitated a moment. Just go with it. This guy seems harmless. And stupid. She walked in and looked around. A 40 of Schlitz and a bong with a naked girl on the side graced the night stand. Next to it was a baggie with a teaspoon full of white powder. A pack of beer nuts lay on the bed. The TV was blessed with a topless girl sudsing up a Bullit Charger with a big, purple sponge. In the bottom right hand corner of the screen was a PSA that read, “You are watching Wild Things 4 on Cinemax Ultra. Her mind wandered for a second…”You know, the first one wasn’t bad…Kevin Bacon’s bacon was…” His hands snaked around her waist from behind. “What do you say we get down to business, Agent Scully? I’ve got an alien ready to burst out of my pants…” She instantly wedged her hands between his arms and her waist and forced them out, breaking his light grip. She whirled and whipped her baton in one fluid motion, hitting him square across the midriff. He stumbled back, doubled over while holding both hands to his gut. His face was pointed down at the shit-brown carpet. He moaned, let out a hybrid of a burp and a hiccup, then he puked. Foamy gold liquid and beer nut splinters. He gasped for breath, his chest jerking up and down. He burped again and out dropped more splinters. Claire watched him without compassion, gripping the night stick like she was preventing it from whacking him in the head. He straightened up slowly. “Bitch, whadjyoudothatfor?” That stick really wanted to go upside his jaw. “If you wanted to get paid up front, you coulda just said so. I usually pay after.” “I’m a cop, you fucking moron. A real cop.” “A cop? What’re you doin’ here?” He hustled to the window and looked out the curtain. All quiet. He wiped a cobweb on his pants and said, “You alone? What is this?” “I just wanted to ask you a few questions about the other night, dipshit.” “That’s it?” “That’s it.” He caught his breath for a second. She looked around a little more. An iPad on his bed was open to a webpage that said, “Talk of the Town” in tawdry red letters at the top. She looked at his feet. His toenails were more jagged than the glass on the outside stairs. She noticed a wet spot around his zipper. He saw where her eyes were looking and clasped his hands over his zipper. “I-uh-spilled my beer when you knocked.” “Pull yourself together, for Chrissake.” The stain had spread down his pants. He walked over by the bed and stepped in the sick. He wiped his heel on the carpet. “I told that guy the other night that I didn’t see nothin’” “Nothing?” “No. Wait, what…you think I did it??” “I kinda doubt it, Doc Holliday.” He was almost dispirited. “Then what?” “Just a follow up. That’s all. Walk me through it. What’d you see?” “I told you…I didn’t see a thing.” “Fine…what happened.” “I was working on my iPad and I…” “What time was this?” “Like I already told the other guy, sometime around seven.” “Ok, what then?” “I heard a loud bang that sounded like a backfire, maybe louder. I looked out the window and went back to doin’ what I was doin’.” “That’s it? You didn’t see a car driving off?” “NO!” “How long did it take you to get to the window?” “A few seconds.” Bu-u-u-rrrpp… “We’re you shitfaced?” He looked at his feet, then at the TV. She was drying off the hood. She… Claire waved the night stick in his face. “We’re you shitfaced?” “Yeah. So what? I…didn’t…see…nothin’.” He saw Claire looking at the bong and baggie. “Are you gonna bust me?” “Do you have any priors?” “No.” “You’ve never been arrested?” “No, I said.” “Keep it that way, Brainiac. You wouldn’t survive a week in jail. What’re you even doing in town?” Silence. “Well?” “I’m on disability.” “Oh---Kay…” “I—travel around and…report stuff.” “Stuff? To who?” He wiggled his right leg a little. His foot was wet. “Look…just forget it. Good-bye….for now.” She opened the door and saw a dyed red head in a trench coat walking up the stairs. She looked puzzled when she saw Claire. Claire shook her head, smirked and said as she passed her, “I hope you’re gettin’ top dollar for this one, Honey.”
  2. You Saved Me

    You Saved Me ©2017 Robert George BMI Wind was howlin’ all around my cabin And the storm was screamin’ right outside I’d been whisperin’ to myself, Then I took somethin’ off the shelf And I went down to the riverside Somehow in the rain and thunder I thought I heard somethin’ moan In the middle of the raging river Was a puppy clingin’ to a stone As I waded neck-deep in that current I could feel the water rise But he never did give up, And when I reached that little pup I could hear it in his eyes “You saved me When I’d been abandoned By the ones I needed most You saved me And you proved that someone’s Helping hand is always close You saved me” It took some time for him to face the world again First, we went huntin’ in the woods around the bend Now we’ve both found ourselves a lady friend At the local VFW He still gets scared because his soul’s been scarred But this cruel world hasn’t hurt his tender heart I can hear it in his happy bark When I feed him half my venison stew “You saved me When I’d been abandoned By the ones I trusted most You saved me And you proved that someone’s Helping hand is always close You saved me You saved me” Now I watch him curled up on the bear rug Sleepin’ by the fireplace When I think back on the night I found him I can sense the hand of Grace I still see that angry river And that small box on the shelf Lost in a storm of guilt and doubt I took that pistol out And went down there to kill myself…but “You saved me When I’d been abandoned By the ones I needed most You saved me And you proved that someone’s Helping hand and is always close You saved me” “Yes, you saved me When I’d been abandoned By the ones I trusted most You saved me And you proved that heaven’s Helping hand and is always close You saved me You saved me You saved me…”
  3. Couchgrouch in the house!:D Long time...

  4. People Who Don't Want to Be Found

    Thanks Kuya.
  5. How Long Do I Have

    Fab, i released a book of poetry, lyrics and a short story on Amazon Kindle about four years ago. It's called Anericana. It actually sold. My first novella Life Wish should be up soon. A few years ago I was mentioned in a post on the Muse. Someone said they missed the gritty style of my poetry when I originally turned up on the Net. If so, they should enjoy Life Wish. I'll announce it here when it's available. 😀
  6. How Long Do I Have

    Thanks Kuya. I hope to post a link to my first novella before too long. It'll be on Kindle.
  7. People Who Don't Want to Be Found

    please forgive my double post but I forgot to post this here when I wrote it. People Who Don’t Want to Be Found ©2017 Robert George BMI Well, I walked a beat along the misty Frisco shore Till I pistol-whipped a pimp who killed a teenage whore Now I make a living as a low-rent private eye I’m a shamus cloaked in shadow, I’m a midnight spy Got a dusty one-room office in Chinatown Time is loss and misery, so there will always be People who don’t wanna be found I can put a tracker on her husband’s Chevy, If a wife suspects he’s gettin’ hot n heavy With a secretary who’s a sweet young honeypot Yeah, I get paid a C-note daily plus expenses, Got a shoulder-holster…I use telephoto lenses You can bet your bottom dollar that I’ll get the money shot There ain’t no one, nowhere I can’t track down Time is loss and misery, so there will always be People who don’t wanna be found One day some guy told me that his wife was off the grid Claimed she skipped town last summer with his kid Thought she might be in Fremont or San Jose If I found her there’d be two grand bonus pay Promised he just wanted her back safe n sound Time is loss and misery, so there will always be People who don’t wanna be found She turned out to be a battered Venus, Workin’ drive-thru somewhere near Salinas And her beauty outshone all the scars upon her face She was barely thirty with a streak of grey hair, More than half her paycheck went to rent and day care I could see that she depended on the Good Lord’s grace Though I didn’t wanna tell him that I’d tracked her down Time is loss and misery, so there will always be People who don’t wanna be found I understood the reasons for her disappearing act Love is life and shouldn’t be a suicidal pact So I lost my license when I broke her husband’s jaw I left Frisco just ahead of Johnny Law Fate’s a circle just as sure as this world is round Time is loss and misery, so there will always be People who don’t wanna be found Well, I walked a beat along the misty Frisco shore Till I pistol whipped a pimp who killed a teenage whore…
  8. How Long Do I Have

    How Long Do I Have ©2017 Robert George BMI How long do I have Till the bitter kiss of life will let me be And the sandy touch of time will set me free How long do I have Though I’ve always paid my health its rightful part And declined the hemlock of a spiteful heart Maybe all my prayers will matter little And forever will be noncommittal But all faith is void if men are certain What awaits behind the stardust curtain How long do I have Till I learn if heaven will undo my death Fill my cup with eons and renew my breath Maybe all my prayers will matter little And forever will be noncommittal But all faith is void if men are certain What awaits behind the stardust curtain How long do I have Till the bitter kiss of life will let me be…
  9. Leaves Without a Tree

    Thanks Emily.
  10. Leaves Without a Tree

    Leaves Without a Tree ©2017 Robert George BMI Leaves without a tree Sail the wind and celebrate their liberty But the rinds of freedom are their only fruits Now that they’ve renounced their father and their roots Leaves without a tree Fight amongst their own and never will agree So they scatter north and south and east and west As if chaos was the reason for their quest With’ring on the scorching sand and pebbles For ingratitude tolls a heavy fee One more faction of abandoned rebels Slowly becoming leaves without a tree Leaves without a tree Gather near an oak that’s motionless yet free They enrich that mighty oak’s surrounding soil Its own leaves grow verdant from remaining loyal Ev’ry heart who’s lacking roots resembles What a river achieves without the sea When alone at night his freedom trembles Like a small pile of leaves without a tree Leaves without a tree Sail the wind and celebrate their liberty…
  11. Love and War

    Thanks Emily.
  12. If I Pen a Masterpiece

    If I Pen a Masterpiece I can paint a bubbling fountain, Mold the canyons of a mountain With the rhythm of a simple line Violet moons…the sun and Venus, I have touched them with the freeness Of a man who wanders verse and rhyme But as yet I can’t uncover Phrases that describe a lover With all my tomorrows in her hand Looking back on all I’ve written I can find your beauty hidden In each rhyme about forever’s plan Someday I will write a song, for a love that will not cease I will name it after you, if I pen a masterpiece And when doubts have robbed my spirit In the darkness I can hear it Somehow when you hold me silently And when life seems cruel and lawless Even songs provide no solace You can find the words to comfort me And I’ve tried to see each daisy Ev’ry river running lazy In a light that’s soft and lyrical When I feel the warmth within you Know, my love, that I’ll continue Trying to describe a miracle Someday I will write a song, for a love that will not cease I will name it after you, if I pen a masterpiece And for a man so small What I need most of all Is for someone to believe in me You’ve helped me understand That heaven’s open hand Blesses ev’ry sparrow…even me Someday I will write a song, for a love that will not cease I will name it after you, if I pen a masterpiece
  13. Love and War

    Love and War ©2017 Robert George BMI Eileen felt the slow approaching winter storm As she prayed to God and shoveled sod Upon a torn grey uniform Then she saw a stranger stagger from the foggy trees He was cold n weak, with tear-stained cheeks Mud and blood up to his knees And though that stranger’s uniform was blue He took that widow’s spade, filled the grave and then he prayed That God might show him mercy, too O love and war Seem to be eternal on this earth Yet love remains When the dead have learned what war is worth He was set to walk off in the snowy night Eileen took his arm, pointed to her farmhouse and invited him inside He slept on the bear rug by the fieldstone fireplace Right at dawn, there was coffee on And he cried at breakfast when she said grace Ev’ry day she cleaned his wounds and wrapped them up in gauze Ev’ry night by candlelight he pondered soldiers and their cause Cos love and war Seem to be eternal on this earth Yet love remains When the dead have learned what war is worth Then one morning he was hunting in the woods alone Union soldiers found her farm, ripped her dress and burned her barn Thinkin’ she was livin’ on her own Well, he saw the smoke and ran back with his gun They had the same uniform, he himself had worn And yet he still killed ev’ry one By the time he wed Eileen he was neither blue nor grey Cos he figured God above, was a God of love And love’s the only way to pray Yes, love and war Seem to be eternal on this earth Yet love remains When the dead have learned what war is worth O love and war Seem to be eternal on this earth Yet love remains When the dead have learned what war is worth
  14. Caravan of Secrets

    Thanks Tammy! I'm actually reading a Bernie Wrightson collection right now. I don't know anyone who can draw like that and couldn't pay them if I did. Such is life.
  15. Caravan of Secrets

    Thanks Emily.
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