Tuesday, June 29, 2010
I Lost My Glue -An excerpt from my journal in 2008
At first I thought it was inevitable that I just watch as I plunged deeper and deeper into the core. Most times I just mused that I was somewhere else, doing something else, with someone else. I have realized that by willing myself, I can turn this way and that. I have lost the glue that holds me to a set of rules and structure. In fact I am not falling at all but flying towards something extraordinarily bizarre and real.
At thirty two I was beyond any one persons help. I was smack dab in the middle of a crisis, too early to be midlife, and to late to be anything else. I lost in me the glue that holds me to a society that I was floundering in. At this moment I sit somewhere for no other purpose but to sit and muse and figure. It is a great and seemingly worthless way to spend time. Yet here I sit. Stuck with legs on both side of the fence trying desperately to find meaning in chicken bones, stars, and blades of grass.
Repetition and banality threatened to drive me mad with desperation. Menial, unending servitude to the here and now, the get and give, the stride and climb. The go, go, go.
I decidedly have flown the coupe. Left life behind and moved on to something different. So long crazy world, I said. Now, I have gone mad, and pirouetted into the grosses of states. I have traveled over twenty four thousand miles in the last year to find myself only accomplishing in creating a monster.
Sadly finding love again. I melted and realized that underneath the large iceberg of my outer trimmings was a hollow that stored the fragments of a puzzle that had been not, as of yet, fixed together. It was the swirling and trappings of what could be and unfortunately not what was. Terrible shock to find. Unbeknownst, to me I was a conflagration of nothingness and everything that I thought I should be and wasn't. I was unraveled. Though this unraveling made me into an eagle and I have since spread my wings and fly here and there at my whim.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Closed For Business
the bloated body washed up
the salty hurt
I apologize for those who may meet me later
I am a crushed can of misery
unrecyclable, useless
It would be nice if my heart was broken
It is not, it still goes, still hurts
it still loves
I figure I will stay quiet and low and soft
save the final beats
for me.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Jay-Z Poet
about B.I.G. I said, that's big he said
Dig what he said, proceed he said
Indeed I said, so - breathe I did
Don't repeat what I say I said, he said nothing
He agreed with his head, he just nodded like this
What I believe to be a yes I repeated what was said
It came to me like a well as even I said
"What's the deal, playboy?" was the greeting he said
First thing I wanted to know, what's the reason he was dead?
"More money -- more problems, better believe it," he said
"Careful what you wish for you might receive it," he said
I see I said, jealousy I said
Got the whole industry mad at me I said
Then B.I. said, "Hov' remind yourself
nobody built like you, you've designed yourself"
I agree I said, my one of a kind self
Get stoned every day like Jesus did
What he said, I said, has been said before
"Just keep doing your thing," he said, say no more
Saturday, January 2, 2010
The Soul Collector - Haiku
Oh how the lady
Moves through the open valley
Searching for lost souls
The souls are not there
They stay in the dark forests
Cowering in fear
When the moon rises
The souls gather thoughtfully
Moaning and dancing
The lady long searches
For souls who awake at night
While she lays asleep
The souls long for peace
Though they hide during the day
Fearful of the sun
Last Drink
He put down his glass and raised his legs four inches off the ground in front of the leather chair he sat in. His legs were pressed together tightly and his whole body went rigid with tension, pausing in mid-motion. His head tilted back and his eyes rolled towards the ceiling for a moment as if searching for strength or clarity. At once he slammed his feet back to earth with a shake that nearly upset the end table with the empty glass. His head came back down and with a sling like motion he propelled himself into the center of the living room. He had done it now and his forward hurl sped him hurriedly towards the mantle and the fireplace underneath. Oh the manic clipped steps of a tumbling terrestrial. His gaze fell upon the bottle that sat quietly and undisturbed on the mantle as he himself did a singular foxtrot or waltz moving one step backwards then forwards then two to the side and back again. With a sashay he cut the dastardly distance in half and in a slide and a skip he made a felonious foray and grasped the bottle with a loud bark and a sharp retort of his bowls. He had his prize but as his other hand reached searchingly for a perch on the mantle it was hard pressed to find a home. His momentum had carried and spun him like a slobbering yet nimble ballerina driving him like a drunk locomotive heading towards a bridge that has been torn down, the gully being the unsuspecting fire grate and the extra warm contents on the other side of it. Smash was the sound as he took the fireplace head on taking the gate with a swoop of his large arms. Whiskey bottle up, whiskey bottle down, whiskey bottle smashed all around. Cracked and angry the whiskey bottle sprayed its pressured contents towards the man and the already outraged fire and its protesting flames. Whoosh went the man; fizz went the bottle feeding the frenzy of the moment.
Here to No Where
Oh the wispy wind blows though me
Oh the darkness lolls me to sleep
Oh the times forget me
Oh the climb is savagely steep
Oh the stones on my frantic feet
Oh while I madly march on
Oh the sun harsh in the heavens
Oh the stars jeering judgments
A Moment With a Woman
A Woman
Like or unlike any other
A Thought
Lips pursed and feelings blocked
Her Fingers
Caressing the thought from her lips
The Sound
A silence exploding in a breath
Her Surroundings
Bleached white stark and pale
Her Action
Slow and painful bereft of indecision
Her Eyes
Focused, relaying no betrayal
Her Scream
Dies in her throat
The End
Released from her own bonds
A Woman
Like or unlike any other
Dirty Dreams
I lie down but do not close my eyes
God damn the pictures on the ceiling
Flashing by black and white and red
Closing my eyes will not stop them
Peace, but my heart thunders inside
A thousand explosions in my chest
I can’t shut down my breaking brain
Or close off the blood to my heart
Giving life to my unholy eardrums
And the sounds of screams and death
I am screaming too or maybe just
Trying to close my mouth I retch
At the sight of muzzle fire and flame
Bombs falling from a broken sky
I am here but tied to there so I
Tear off my clothes to stop the fire
And run across the ceiling punching
The walls, opening and closing drawers
This is my norm and closure as I sit
Sweat dripping from my nude body
As I stand at the precipice of madness
Closer than I have ever been
I lie down but do not close my eyes