November 2011
3 posts
Little poem that may turn into a big poem on home
Home isn’t just a place to plug your toothbrush
It’s a place to feel your need
A place to feel safe and warm and flush
With love, a place to derail your greed.
October 2011
11 posts
2 tags
Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers - Gift Horse, A...
The SK & the 6ers concert I went to is still one of the best I’ve ever been to. That was back when my friend Hunter Sharpless rocked the roads with them, writing on the delights and downfalls of road life with a genuine, hard-working band. They just released an album, “Gift Horse.” For being alt-country, folk rock what have you, they have a pretty eclectic mix. You can...
4 tags
2 tags
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September 2011
4 posts
4 tags
Iced Coffee Lyrics
Tell me of the night, the one we both drank in,
as mosquitos pulled our skin
and drank our blood, the one where you looked up at the stars, wishing,
and wishing that they were the same that saw me.
And the moon, being a place where we
could both live on the same side.
Without you, he speaks, without you, the weight of this world would crush me down, without you, and I would rise,...
3 tags
August 2011
1 post
May 2011
1 post
A Buddy Guy song off of an early album of his... →
April 2011
3 posts
1 tag
“I like to prowl ordinary places
and taste the people-
from a distance.
I...”
– Charles Bukowski, from the poem “59 Cents a Pound”
February 2011
1 post
December 2010
1 post
When the bear shall lie down with the horse.
This broken fate, A memory would be too easy, The broken is my own, The fate is given me, Just wait ‘til we reach the place where The bear and horse they sleep With angry eyelids and accursed frowns Hand in hand, pretending One is a fearsome monster (or perhaps prince) from a fairy tale And the other a beautiful unicorn (or perhaps maiden), please Don’t misunderstand. This is what they are.
November 2010
2 posts
babbling.
If and only when despite the sun, being cold and a little forgotten, the blood red moon, shines with a desperation, and the walking feet, underneath a breath and the breadth of a forgotten stream, look at the sky in wonderment.
4 tags
October 2010
3 posts
4 tags
A thought and a haiku
Alone is just a word, but even as such, it contains two syllables, and so neither sound is fully alone, but even as such, within the japanese framework for haikus it would be counted as three ‘on’ since it ends in ‘n’. So within the single word alone, there is a community, and even this representation of isolation cannot stand without the aid of multiple letters and sounds.
My alone
...
3 tags
My alarm needs harder math
So… I have one of those alarms that asks you to solve a math problem before it will shut off. This morning, my alarm goes off, and I thought I hit snooze, but then I woke up to realize I had missed my bus. So apparently, in my sleepy stupor, basic math and snooze button are equivalent. So as I say in the title. My alarm needs harder math.
Theory
In Renee Fleming’s, The Inner Voice, she makes the point that hefty voices need hefty rest. Perhaps this works with other things too. Brains? Or at least thought, deep, difficult thinking requires dedicated, deep, difficult relaxation and reorganization to move on.
Thoughts?
September 2010
7 posts
6 tags
a final conversation
s: Wake up, one last time, and hold up your head,
f: Speak on, make me forget, hold out your hand,
s: For I, would, keep for the sake, this cold. dead.
f: hold me, I need you to hold me, just stand
s: hold me, please, will you hold me, hold me
f: rain falls, down on my, rain falls, melt away
s: I’m down, face in hand gently weeping, knees
f: Down on my, down on my knees, haste the day
...
3 tags
Nephele
Cold, she awoke to the sun splashing across her face.
Billowy white, gliding over the blue, she visited her sisters from time to time, extending pallid vortices over which she walked. They would share pleasantries, riding the currents. Sometimes they would run into another relative, and discuss what to do about the weather.
As night fell, she said fair-well to her kin. She vaulted...
2 tags
a haiku on hope
Hope, I burn thee,
As a candlelit frame
Missing thine
4 tags
The Bridesmaid (a snippet that I'd been saving,...
but i am tired of being the bridesmaid,
I’ll hold your flowers, and the tail of your gown
And out of all time, this is the day,
but i am tired of being the bridesmaid,
Sorry for the blogging absence, we're gonna...
August 2010
3 posts
The thunder breathes on my mind, rumbling the dark portents which restlessly bar the methods of success I might pursue. And no other rain but washes me so clearly, so thoroughly than if I might fall, slip, and my foot not tread but slide over the walkway and I fall across the intersection. Luckily there are strangers and friends to lend a hand to pick me up.
Searching for hay in stacks of golden needles
Searching for hay in stacks of golden needles
I keep searching so but I keep on hurting my hands
Golden needle I seem to have found but there is so many golden needles here, so many golden needles here
Searching for hay in stacks of golden needles.
Hold me here, tie me down, don’t let me throw this all away
Searching for hay in stacks of golden needles.
You can take your thread...
The day begins, my day sees the sky and wistfully paints the sky with the five or so colors that I can see this morning, though no-one understands, at least everyone does, and then the electric electricity fails at the coffee shop.
June 2010
1 post
Desperados waiting for a train by Jerry Jeff...
I played the Red River Valley He’d sit in the kitchen and cry Run his fingers through seventy years of livin’ And wonder, “Lord, why has every well I’ve drilled gone dry?” We were friends, me and this old man We’s like desperados waitin’ for a train Desperados waitin’ for a train He’s a drifter, a driller of oil wells He’s an old...
May 2010
4 posts
Lift your head up, please, and look in the distance, there is a mountain, violet on the horizon, which upon my waking was there, but I tell you, yesterday it was not residing in this view. Perhaps I will go climb, or just enjoy the new landscape.
Good morning world.
And morning breaks to find the waking slow, bold perhaps, give me my life and let me watch the sunrise, let me watch the sunrise in peace, thinking only of how splendid the night remains, and how splendider must the rise of the sun be to chase it away.
1 tag
I need to write more.
Black like the night, and tired like a soul, wandering, and wondering too long, but breathless, for whence breath was given, hence it has gone, hither walk, thence depart, thither remain until some recompense can be made, and a miracle before mine eyes. Holding, holding, holding, stand and stand and stand, breathing breathing, breathing, and reading faces as they walk. Walk. Walk.
March 2010
6 posts
the night is quiet.
Holding in its womb, the promise of rest.
Sleep now.
Apparently the safe in starbucks is protected by a time control device.
Watchintense. this is awesome.
succeedblog:
parking succeed
1 tag
Man sentenced to 40 years for stealing chicken... →
Next time he should steal some sauce too.
meatcrimes:
We’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and presume this McDonald’s regularly places food orders into cloth sacks with giant dollar signs printed on them.
(Photo by deovolenti via Flickr)
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