June 2nd, 2012

This is about a man lying in his bed one morning.

He felt that he wanted to write about something and thought, why not write about how he feels uncomfortable in social settings. Like how even if he knows some of the people gathering for an event that he somehow prefers to be on the periphery, just looking on.

Then, he rolls over in his early morning revery, as he often does, believing that the blood flowing to a different part of his brain will generate different thought patterns.

Now he thinks maybe he might write about eating pussy. Trying to remember his first such encounter he can’t recall who or where but his memory feeds him the best highlights of many times — of the similarity to the enjoyment of a ripe apricot, a little fuzzy on its soft but firm exterior and the exciting potential of all that soft luscious juicy warm aromatic and tasty fruit inside, once past the steel wool surrounding it.

What a divergent choice of topics and then he realizes perhaps they are really part of one over-riding subject — his successes and failures, his social demeanor, his ability and preference for focusing on one person at a time rather than a crowd.

This is not a matter of success or failure he now thinks but one of preference and bearing — he prefers intimacy without an audience. He realizes that he also enjoys the response of an audience — without personal contact.

The dichotomy could cause a decision to forget about the whole thing.

But of course the more personal topic wins out.

He is an artist and a writer nonetheless — of course he prefers to be alone when creating. Of course this, he reflects, is why so many artists and writers turn to drink and other such escapes that drive others away physically or virtually. This too must be why he sees eating pussy as a creative endeavor, an art form — and would explain his reluctance to embrace group activities.

He turns over again and as the morning wood passes he arises alone, walks to his table and begins to write in the dark.


April 24th, 2012

When you are a tree in the wilderness and there are no people around
you wonder why you would fall over if there are none to hear the sound
but other trees who are wondering the same thing.

When you are an artist without an audience
you wonder why you are making art when there are none to see it,
not even other artists who are wondering the same thing.

When you are a lover without a mate
you wonder why you are loving when there are no mates to reciprocate,
not even others wondering the same thing.

In the end you are alone and still wondering, still falling,
still creating, still loving though there are no others around
not even those wondering the same thing.

res ipsa loquitor

May 7th, 2011

in Latin means literally ‘the matter speaks for itself’

in Law, the principle that the occurrence of an accident
implies negligence

as an artist I know that accidents require negligence and
that there would be very little art without it

and that matter speaks for itself, literally.

thoughts on work

May 4th, 2011

I have a recurring dream where I am working at a job
where I am well paid and have a responsible position
but haven’t a clue what I am to be doing since others
look at me assuming I’m doing my part as I wander
around trying to look involved though totally lost.

Everyone else appears to be performing some relevant tasks
though relevant to what I can’t ascertain since it’s all a mystery
that I don’t dare to ask about and blow my cover since I depend
on that paycheck to come though it seems to be for doing nothing
but wandering around trying to figure out what I can do to be effective.

It’s seen by my peers, friends and relatives to be a good position
one that affords me respect and pays my bills for a change though
I don’t have many and my life feels in this dream like it must be good
though I am trapped in this strange workplace where I really don’t belong
and fear someone will find me out and throw me out into the night alone.

Sometimes it’s in an office or design studio others it’s in a factory
with lots of separate buildings filled with machinery and materials
being worked and moved from station to station amidst lots of noise
and activity of which I am just an observer trying to look official or something
though I’m not really a part of anything and lack the slightest connection.

My whole working life has felt like I am merely an actor and perhaps
not really a physical being since my inability to belong anywhere
leaves me wondering what all of it is worth and why I bother to even
try day after day to maintain the charade just to pay the rent and eat
and consume things which have no eternal value.

The weekend days off, holidays and periods of extended unemployment
on the other hand allow me to feel whole and able to contribute to the
betterment of the world at my best and at my own pace which feels
so much more in tune than the cycle of drudgery that takes place at work
and actually provides a sustenance equal or better in all regards.

get what you want

May 1st, 2011

Be careful what you ask for, you just may get it.

Gays and lesbians clamoring for marriage will end up having divorces —
something new perhaps and rarely any fun;

Fed-up Arabs seeking freedom and dignity may end up having
more repression, poverty and disappointment — that’s a sad one.

Something for nothing, a free lunch and easy money draw many
to learn as in an ancient Chinese proverb:

How do you know it’s good?
How do you know it’s bad?

To paraphrase the Stones:
you can’t always get what you want
but you always get what you need.

healthy, wealthy and wise?

April 25th, 2011

Just this past week I was anglin’ on
a saying attributed to Benjamin Franklin:

“Early to bed and early to rise
makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.”

So what ever happened to healthy, wealthy and wise being
sought after like some sort of ultimate prize?

It seems that lately these virtues are cries that
so many people hold as Evil in their eyes.

If you’re healthy, there’s a crowd that’s heard whining and
ascribing your good health to something genetic

while their own habits of sedentry and over-dining have
led them to a condition that’s truly pathetic.

When it comes to wealth the assessment’s even worse; your
frugality and good choices are reviled as a Curse.

And when you try to pass along any of that Wisdom you’re
heard as the purveyor of yet another conundrum.

So instead of health we race toward illness and morbidity and
in place of wealth we get more lack and want.

In lieu of wisdom we’ve accrued ignorance and stupidity. Now
these New “virtues” are all that’s left to vaunt.

broken (inspired by bob dylan’s everything is broken)

April 9th, 2011

broken dishes
broken parts
broken wishes
broken hearts

broken wheels
broken dials
broken deals
broken smiles

everything’s broken
nothin’ ain’t right
everything’s broken
it all seems so trite

broken boxes
broken gloves
broken foxes
broken loves

broken bottles
broken teams
broken models
broken dreams

everything’s broken
nothin’ seems to fit
everything’s broken
nobody gives a shit

broken strings
broken spines
broken rings
broken lines

broken oaths
broken herds
broken growths
broken words

everything’s broken
and it’s nobody’s fault
everything’s broken
we’re all at fault

broken meanings
broken findings
broken leanings
broken bindings

broken combs
broken ropes
broken homes
broken hopes

everything’s broken
nothin’ ain’t right
everything’s broken
it’s not a pretty sight

broken pintos
broken flies
broken windows
broken lies

broken fears
broken lights
broken tears
broken nights

everything’s broken
nothin’ to hold on
everything’s broken
even you are gone

broken cars
broken dives
broken bars
broken lives

broken roads
broken times
broken loads
broken rhymes

everything’s broken
nothin’s even here
everything’s broken
have another beer

broken chills
broken blinds
broken pills
broken minds

broken balls
broken brows
broken walls
broken vows

everything’s broken
everything’s broken



here we go again

March 21st, 2011

here we go again

here we go again
here we go again
here we go again

again, her we go again
we think we learn
we think we burn
we think we learn when we burn

here we go again
here we go again
here we go again

again, here we go again
we think we earn
we think it’s our turn
our turn to earn and burn

here we go again
here we go again
here we go again

again, here we burn again
here we earn again
here we turn again
but never learn again

here we go again
here we go again
here we go again

again, here we go again
it’s our turn to burn
’cause we always burn
and never learn

here we go again
here we go again
here we go again

again, her we burn again
we are the burners
not the burned
here we go again

here we go again
we think we are the learn-ed
because we’re always the earn-ed
here we go again

burners and burn-ees
learners and learn-ees
her we go again
will someone stop us please

again, here we go again
here we go again
here we go again

here we know — again
here we blow — again
here we go — again

color me green

February 3rd, 2011

Green, green, green, green, green
Close your eyes, green, green,
I mean it, close your eyes and just see
green — green, green.

Green, green, brown, red green, green
green, brown, brown, red, green green,
evergreen trees, green, green, brown,
green, brown, red, black, white, gray,
green, grey, flowing creek, rushing water,
green, green, green, brown, red, black, white,
green, green, green, brown, red, black, white,
green, green, brown, red, black, white,

green, green, brown, red, black, white,
blue, green, green, brown, red, black, white,
blue, blue, green, green, brown, red, black, white,
blue, green, green, blue, brown, red, blue, white,
pitter, patter, blue, gray, white, gray, green, green
rain sprinkles everything, gray, green, blue, white
green, green, green, green

Breathe deeply, blue-green, blue-green, gray
white now red, orange, yellow, red, red, red,
brown, red, brown, green, red, brown,
as the bear devours your leg, red, red, brown on green.

We are always [green] surprised by what we [green] don’t expect.
So be ready for the [green] uninvited and serve them your best
green, green, red, brown and black, black, always black
— and blue, blue, blue. Boo-hoo. Woo-hoo. Blue, blue.


one ton run

January 12th, 2011

Rain again stains the main plain pane
and the sun is fun when you’ve won a ton

But to rut your gut with a slut and a mutt
your butt must be cut with a nut in your hut.

Its crackers for hackers you slackers
when for smackers and stackers you track

And wonder and blunder with hair all asunder
to fund her down under with someone who gunned her.

So pick up a stick and lick on a tick
for thick as its trick is its click on your wick

When the rain is a train with a mighty refrain
some drain must remain inside of your brain.

The son with a gun’s not the one on the run
for the sun on your bun is just for my fun.