I can't sleep.
I'm eating a Popsicle
under the heating blanket
The curtains are open and little silver rivers run down the window.
behind me a cat drifts off.
the room is slightly dark.
the whirring of a few fans and the blinking of several tiny lights.
and somewhere over the water
another room is slightly dark
the whirring of a few fans and several tiny lights
in the broken dark glaze of
the moonlit window panes
sleeps the same man in reverse dreaming of mirrors and haze
the room is filled with books
but knowledge floated here before
the past is made of downy cotton
the future is full of claws
and out there in the universe
the sky is full of stars.
Monday, December 20, 2010
RIP DADT / Fuck You John McCain
I should have known what total fucking idiot he was based on his choice of running mates but this has solidified it. Fuck you John McCain. You make old white guys look bad enough, so can you please just shut the fuck up? You are 80 fucking billion years old and the world you are trying to make decisions for isn't even one you will spend much time in-this is MY world now-and after me if will belong to someone else-so stop acting like its YOU that will be inheriting the place. Its not you-its some 12 year old kid in some small mountain town in west virginia who loves his country and is just discovering that he likes other boys.
Your outdated morality clause is expired. You are the rude party guest telling people the dinner party is over while you are being excused from the table. Your service to this country never gave you a right to warp it's basic fundamental rights. If you cannot figure that out perhaps its time to step down and let someone make decisions who has a real stake in this world, not someone who wants it 'the way it used to be.'
And DADT? Don't let the door hit your tired ass on the way out!
Your outdated morality clause is expired. You are the rude party guest telling people the dinner party is over while you are being excused from the table. Your service to this country never gave you a right to warp it's basic fundamental rights. If you cannot figure that out perhaps its time to step down and let someone make decisions who has a real stake in this world, not someone who wants it 'the way it used to be.'
And DADT? Don't let the door hit your tired ass on the way out!
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Hatred Into Beauty
Like an empty blank canvas
with a fresh and open wound
The only pain I ever knew
an actor taught to bleed
where the blood once congealed
a row of flowers grew
with a fresh and open wound
The only pain I ever knew
an actor taught to bleed
where the blood once congealed
a row of flowers grew
Thursday, December 16, 2010
When The Rain Falls (Space Bunnies In Love)
when the rain falls
just before the snow
wash away all the leaves
with cinnamon and vertigo
tastes of felted seams
fly by astral travel
I'm sitting by my data bank
waiting for your call
vacation in Atlantis
step into waves to
watch the rain
pools of fire, mercury exploding
the colors of victory
paint beautiful losers
someone you could smother
as the rain hammers
taps drummers in thunder
like a hundred dancers
in a musical just for you.
there is nothing else to do today
but sit around drinking tea
reading over old postcards
with pictures of the sea
gathered tattered remnants
of lifestyle magazines,
fast cars
superstars
they belong to you
big man, clothes like a king
protecting little kid dreams
graffiti on bedroom walls
every word saved to sing your
song, you can tell
every night
when the rain falls.
just before the snow
wash away all the leaves
with cinnamon and vertigo
tastes of felted seams
fly by astral travel
I'm sitting by my data bank
waiting for your call
vacation in Atlantis
step into waves to
watch the rain
pools of fire, mercury exploding
the colors of victory
paint beautiful losers
someone you could smother
as the rain hammers
taps drummers in thunder
like a hundred dancers
in a musical just for you.
there is nothing else to do today
but sit around drinking tea
reading over old postcards
with pictures of the sea
gathered tattered remnants
of lifestyle magazines,
fast cars
superstars
they belong to you
big man, clothes like a king
protecting little kid dreams
graffiti on bedroom walls
every word saved to sing your
song, you can tell
every night
when the rain falls.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
On Sigur Ros
"Only music this beautifully far out could fit a film so full of fantasy."
on the video for Glósóli
on the video for Glósóli
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Uncredited Starring Role
You came out of a day dream
changed things I always
thought would seem
unfathomable, improbable
from the wreckage of
my destroyed ego
but I had to let go
of the handrail
cast a different sail
standing here through torments
setting up one big long shot
why do you think I'm still here
filming this movie?
you can follow along
but there's no plot...
You can be anywhere
that I'm going this evening
follow me like the moon,
worship me in heresy
and behind that the skies
anyplace at all
full of monsoons hateful waiting
burnt forms reflected
on disintegrating clouds
with storms that change your view
and you fall in love,
like ancient statues
are said to do
who could predict this?
from weather to season to icy solstice,
no one had ever seen
angels with wings like you.
---------------------------
couplet thingy
(I've always had a thing for sound / who made your ship run aground?)
changed things I always
thought would seem
unfathomable, improbable
from the wreckage of
my destroyed ego
but I had to let go
of the handrail
cast a different sail
standing here through torments
setting up one big long shot
why do you think I'm still here
filming this movie?
you can follow along
but there's no plot...
You can be anywhere
that I'm going this evening
follow me like the moon,
worship me in heresy
and behind that the skies
anyplace at all
full of monsoons hateful waiting
burnt forms reflected
on disintegrating clouds
with storms that change your view
and you fall in love,
like ancient statues
are said to do
who could predict this?
from weather to season to icy solstice,
no one had ever seen
angels with wings like you.
---------------------------
couplet thingy
(I've always had a thing for sound / who made your ship run aground?)
Monday, December 13, 2010
Status
Well, I have been neglecting my postings here and at the other blogs because, well, the darn computer with all my files is still down-and it had about 12 things I wrote but haven't published that I was hoping to put up soon. that goes for the artwork and photos too. sucks.
Thankfully my back is continuing to improve. I may grab a bunch of older poetry and songs(I wrote a lot more of those back in the day than I do now) and post that up from the other Mac-I have a few favorites that it think have held up well over the years. There are pieces on that computer from as far back at 1997 so that might be fun and interesting. Maybe I'll do a retro week where everything that's posted has to be at least 10 years old? Perhaps...
Oh, and I love Bob-my life size teddy bear. Yep!
Thankfully my back is continuing to improve. I may grab a bunch of older poetry and songs(I wrote a lot more of those back in the day than I do now) and post that up from the other Mac-I have a few favorites that it think have held up well over the years. There are pieces on that computer from as far back at 1997 so that might be fun and interesting. Maybe I'll do a retro week where everything that's posted has to be at least 10 years old? Perhaps...
Oh, and I love Bob-my life size teddy bear. Yep!
Monday, December 6, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Because my cat's kidneys are worth $60
Usually I don't go gaga over pet accessories, and for years these sorts of things were made out of plastic and cost WAAAAY to much money, upwards of $150. Josquin has, since being put back on dry food, taken to also drinking from the toilet again. This is not something I want him doing even though I understand that cats are instinctively drawn to running water because to them, running water equals "fresh" water and is therefore more desirable. My guys are both swishers in that they swish their little paws around in their water bowls-to clean them-but this often dirties the water, ironically making it taste not that great. in the wild, running water would carry that away. Several people on Catster have said they used this or another model from this company to get their cats to stop using the toilet with what appears to be very good results. The one reason I know they will go for it is because I once had an indoor fountain that eventually had to be moved outdoors-because I could NOT get the cats to stop drinkning out of it, and that was scuzzy water too! just the fact that it was running made it like Superwater or something. plus they loved drinkiing from where the fountain had 'falls' which is almost exactly what this little device has. I could keep it in my room and get rid of having the cats food and water in the kitchen.
Plus, its kind of cool looking and being made of stainless steel means it won't break.
Plus, its kind of cool looking and being made of stainless steel means it won't break.
From a cat forum suggesting only 'cruel' pet owners keep their cats indoors
My two 12 year old males have always been indoor cats. I live in San Francisco on a very busy, heavy traffic street. My house is back up against a densely wooded area full of raccoons, skunks and other feral cats not to mention the occasional crazy drifter that sleeps in the trees. This is not an area where feral cats live long and I often hear their fighting and losing. It would be far more dangerous to my cats if they were outdoors here. Both cats have gotten out once and in both cases they were terrified and clung largely to the immediate area near the house they knew. They have windows to look out where they see bugs, people and other animals just a few feet away. They get fresh air on a small private deck full of plants(not poisonous) which is cat proofed. they are not devoid of contact with the outside world. The bigger factor is making sure the cats are active, happy and eat right. Sometimes people take their pets for granted-or lives are just busy-and don't give them enough engaged play time and affection. That is the bigger factor -I think- in whether a cat is healthy and happy indoors. Cats are remarkably adaptable but no matter where you keep them, both options have pluses and minuses. I think its a case by case basis as to what is best for your pet and realistic for you.
Lemurs In The Ruins of Alexandria
his soul blindfolded
her body in a cage
drown our sorrows
as did Iscariot
at the haunted cafe
they love to see through
lost in the deserts of persia
where women dance for you
and they serve amnesia.
I thought you liked
your honey spiked
which way to the exit
you just sent a sext it
midnight view over look outs
left my watch in your back seat
waiting for a miracle
as the clock keeps
a beat..
bent over in the garden
we bleed on the roses
afforded a view
and a few thorns too
lemurs wake dreamers
rented room in Alexandria
absinthe makes his bones
shine right through you
too much to fondle
in the flickering light
as it dwindles
we don't have to make it
all the way to cloud nine
pull off the path
won't have to wait
just one place over
and a lot less crowded
on cloud eight.
her body in a cage
drown our sorrows
as did Iscariot
at the haunted cafe
they love to see through
lost in the deserts of persia
where women dance for you
and they serve amnesia.
I thought you liked
your honey spiked
which way to the exit
you just sent a sext it
midnight view over look outs
left my watch in your back seat
waiting for a miracle
as the clock keeps
a beat..
bent over in the garden
we bleed on the roses
afforded a view
and a few thorns too
lemurs wake dreamers
rented room in Alexandria
absinthe makes his bones
shine right through you
too much to fondle
in the flickering light
as it dwindles
we don't have to make it
all the way to cloud nine
pull off the path
won't have to wait
just one place over
and a lot less crowded
on cloud eight.
Unfinished / Obvious / Violence(theme)
Dad are you there?
Yeah, I know
you never answer
but take a look at things
the state of things
would make you think again
the well oiled machine
drifts into stasis
erases the achievement
of those lost in the past
no mountain escapes antiquity
the end of all things
nothing is ever
built to last
when I look in the mirror
half of you looks back in
the split second before
the lights go out and
I look away
could you tell me
when the other bookend
is coming for everyone
I'd trade places with you
but that's beyond on the pale
and you're trapped
in a metal book
instead of floating
on the sea with
a thousand sails
from a father
to a child,
who is knocking at the door,
would you come and see?
the shadowy outline
there at the doorway
is it really me?
let those tears roll
paint memory away
you can make this energy
whatever you need it to be
but its time
to let it all go
like a madness halo
like an angel melting in the snow.
-------
thank you vini for violence*
Yeah, I know
you never answer
but take a look at things
the state of things
would make you think again
the well oiled machine
drifts into stasis
erases the achievement
of those lost in the past
no mountain escapes antiquity
the end of all things
nothing is ever
built to last
when I look in the mirror
half of you looks back in
the split second before
the lights go out and
I look away
could you tell me
when the other bookend
is coming for everyone
I'd trade places with you
but that's beyond on the pale
and you're trapped
in a metal book
instead of floating
on the sea with
a thousand sails
from a father
to a child,
who is knocking at the door,
would you come and see?
the shadowy outline
there at the doorway
is it really me?
let those tears roll
paint memory away
you can make this energy
whatever you need it to be
but its time
to let it all go
like a madness halo
like an angel melting in the snow.
-------
thank you vini for violence*
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Spaceman Down
was going to post something on facebook about my family and realized it sounds too sad and would likely only elicit sympathy responses, or worse-more comments from my sister and the rest of the 'family', neither of which I want. It just has not been a good day today. the only daylight I saw was through the window in the bathroom. thinking about food makes me feel like throwing up. Otherwise I spent the day in bed, pulling the covers over my head and wanting the world to go away.
Dealing with my family has become impossible. My mother has now come to the place in her addiction/OCD/Hording that the home she lives in is no longer habitable, nor is the house the business has been in habitable-the house doesn't even have a working kitchen and only one toilet and no shower or bath. The house she lives in has one working toilet and a bathtub-each one in a different bathroom. the house is full of dog poop and urine smell from the dogs she doesn't clean up after, unsanitary levels of bird dust from the 20-30 birds which all still live in the house, which she also doesn't seem to be cleaning up after. Add to that moths which live off the waste bird seed the birds throw out of the cages and on to the floor and what is left of the carpet. The rebuilding from the fire she caused has never been completed so there are holes in the walls, the ceilings and floors in both homes. There are also holes in the walls in every room of the house-not from construction but from rats and mice which have for years come from all over the neighborhood to feed on the birdseed as well. There is construction debris all over the house, the backyard and what is left of the garage. But wait! there is more! Have I neglected to mention she has been shopping pretty much non stop since the mid 1990s? And not things she needs or has ever needed. Two very rare Limited edition Eames' Rosewood bentwood screens(at $7,500 a pop) and a solid walnut stool, also by Eames($900) sit in the dust caked boxes she bought them in 14 years ago having never been used or even enjoyed. Of course its hard to enjoy them when they are surrounded by 47(and counting) large danish floor lamps, 12 full dining table and chair sets, 7 headboards(for beds she doesn't have), hundreds of troll dolls, thousands of christmas ornaments(though she hasn't had a tree in over 16 years), and hundred and hundred of cardboard boxes from orchids she has bought that sadly, mostly die in the boxes they come in because they never actually make it into the greenhouse-one I helped build over a summer as a teen. Not that it would matter as she has not properly cared for it and just about everything that isn't epiphytic is dead. This is how she lives, day in and day out. She spent the insurance money from the fire(she caused)on ebay instead of finishing the repairs. So she took out a loan(at 64) against the house itself to 'finish' the construction. She should have just repaired what was there and left it at that.
But if you read this far you know THAT would be too easy and pragmatic. Instead she decides in the middle of winter to totally expand the house, moving the front out 10 feet and expanding the kitchen by 3 times its current size. Then buying a $5,400 refrigerator when a $500-$800 would have been overkill. As it stands now the house is semi-finished and really, if the truth was told, not safely inhabitable. and she is out of money, even claiming to my sister that she is broke, not paying her bills, not taking care of her animals.
Funny...last week she managed to spend over $1,000 on ebay on what? plants, more furniture and...wait for it...xmas ornaments-even though last week she sent out an email saying she wouldn't be having christmas this year. Which is like Siran Siran saying he won't be visiting his homeland this year. of course she didn't send it to me directly but through my sister.
That would be my sister who has for the last 16 years lived in the THIRD of my mother's homes paying $600 a month for a 4 bedroom house. a house that should rent for $2,400 or more. In fact she was saving so much money she was able to buy a car-but not just any car-a limited edition Pontiac trans-am millenium model, a sports car. Shitty on mileage but horrendous on insurance. Of course because my sister was working for my mom and her partner's business she got ALL that gas paid for-for free! All she had to do was pay the car payment and even got a reduced premium because my mom added her to the company insurance policy. While she was getting paid $24 an hour!! She lived the good life, partied, went to Vegas, went on trips with her friends and got two purebred dogs-pomeranians. I later found out she was also doing the same thing for my brother who drove a cadillac, lived at home and made good money working retail-she even paid his credit card bills
Oh yeah, I should mention that during this time I was living in my car or sharing a flat with 5 other people, eating Ramen noodles and ricecakes and making $8 an hour-barely getting by. When I asked my mom that christmas if she could take me grocery shopping(I was literally starving, eating at Glide memorial,etc) her reply was "Well, things have been tight with the business, could it wait until after the holidays?"
That year the company posted revenue of over 2 million dollars.
she kindly offered to fill up my gas tank-not out of her pocket but from the business' account. I accepted but later regretted it as she never forgot to remind me of that fact for years and years. So I got $22 worth of gas and my brother and sister got thousands and thousands of dollars of free gas, insurance, food and free AAA coverage, costco cards, VIP tickets to see Phantom, you name it.
Oh, I would have gotten a costco membership too-Susan even gave me the card with my name on it-like everyone in the family got. However, when I went to use it I was told the card was no longer valid-at the register with a cart full of stuff.
Me: the account is closed?
Agent: No, it says here its still open.
Me: then why doesn't my card work?
Agent: Well, only your card was canceled.
I didn't understand so the nice agent turned her monitor to face me and there it was "Account holder J Davis called to terminate card: Steve Davis from account". So she didn't forget, and it wasn't a clerical error-she did it on purpose. Why?
Why? yeah, why. Here is why...because years ago I recognized what was happening with her OCD when it was just in the early stages. Everybody knew something was wrong but they were all benefitting from her so everyone told me to mind my own business- mom was "fine" and I was the homosexual weirdo who had no right to tell other people how to live their lives. When I turned 30 I finally broke down and tearfully told her how concerned I was about her, her life and weather she was happy or not-because to all concerned she clearly wasn't happy. That I loved her. Her response will stay with me until the day I die.
"fuck you and the horse you rode in on. Its my life, my money and my business. I am perfectly happy. mind you own fucking business and stay out of mine."
Sigh....
Now here we all are roughly a little over a decade later. My mother is almost broke, the houses are in shambles(including the one my sister lives in)and her physical health is fading. She claims as many hoarders do that "the stuff' she owns prevents her from doing anything about 'the stuff' in her life. My brother lives out of state in Texas("as far as I could get away from this family")and clearly wants nothing to do with Susan or I and thinks we should leave mom to her own devices. And where is her partner of 30+ years during all this? Like all dysfunctional people he kept enabling her until he too realized what was happening and started drinking to numb the pain of having to deal with her, her constant nagging and belittlment-and her rage. Now he, after 50 years of smoking and 4 heart attacks he can barely manage being alive and Susan-who thinks of him as her dad-thinks he will die soon because he has resumed drinking. now the fun part! my sister want me to 'fix this'. situation.
My sister has made herself out to be the martyr but she is far too immature and emotionally volatile to handle the situation appropriately. She sends email after email attacking me for not doing enough NOW, YEARS after I was the only one who said she needed help-even going as far as trying to get the family to hold an intervention at the time. Now I get attacked for trying to reason with Susan. Her emails have wonderful supportive statements like "You need to get up off your ass and start acting like you care about mom-I can't take care of her all by myself!!"
and at the same time stabs both Stuart and I in the back in emails to Mom that include things like "2 weeks ago i reached out to my brothers...YOUR SONS n was flatly denied when i asked if they can help u. When u are ready to stop trying to control everything n accept help let me know."
So she's passive aggressive, hostile, angry and immature. Wouldn't YOU take help from her? yeesh! But I have to help "fix it" even though I tried and tried for years otherwise I am "just like stuart". My FAVORITE person in the whole world to be compared to-excuse me while I light my face on fire! As if! If anyone could be said to have done LESS than Stuart I haven't met them.
And its the holidays. Yay! right? well, I'd like to be all sunny and ice cream but right now its just darn near impossible. Getting out of bed to change the cat box is about as much energy as I had all day today. The apartment is FILLED with storage boxes of various fullness. every surface has glass nic nacs on it-my beautiful birchwood shelves sit cluttered with packing supplies and more of Mark's crap as does my standing bookshelves. Even though there is room for more books I now have to store stuff in my room because I can't actually GET to the empty spaces on it. The kitchen is a mess and almost too disgusting to cook in-making a meal there means I have to scrub everything before I can even start to cook-I even keep my pots and pans in my room because I got tired of reaching for them and having my hand come back covered in greasy dust. I can't get the mildew smell out of the bathroom-what the fuck is it about chinese families and carpeting bathrooms?! I'm a very clean person-a neatnik-so I spend almost all my time at home in my bedroom-with the door closed. I am broke because work has sucked this year more than any other and I just can't seem to find a full time job. What jobs are out there I am either not qualified for or over qualified for and with everyone else out of work...its not been great. i could really use a break from it all, really.
And yet, behind me sitting asleep on the bed are two cats-one of whom almost died this year because I was too broke to take him to the vet-who love me no matter how fucked up my family and my life is. And then there is Bob, who I wouldn't have made these last several months without. and Friends-I have some really great ones. So much to be thankful for-I just wish there wasn't so much rain right now.
-------------
Oh, and I just pulled a flea off tweed. Great! now I fleas to deal with too!
Dealing with my family has become impossible. My mother has now come to the place in her addiction/OCD/Hording that the home she lives in is no longer habitable, nor is the house the business has been in habitable-the house doesn't even have a working kitchen and only one toilet and no shower or bath. The house she lives in has one working toilet and a bathtub-each one in a different bathroom. the house is full of dog poop and urine smell from the dogs she doesn't clean up after, unsanitary levels of bird dust from the 20-30 birds which all still live in the house, which she also doesn't seem to be cleaning up after. Add to that moths which live off the waste bird seed the birds throw out of the cages and on to the floor and what is left of the carpet. The rebuilding from the fire she caused has never been completed so there are holes in the walls, the ceilings and floors in both homes. There are also holes in the walls in every room of the house-not from construction but from rats and mice which have for years come from all over the neighborhood to feed on the birdseed as well. There is construction debris all over the house, the backyard and what is left of the garage. But wait! there is more! Have I neglected to mention she has been shopping pretty much non stop since the mid 1990s? And not things she needs or has ever needed. Two very rare Limited edition Eames' Rosewood bentwood screens(at $7,500 a pop) and a solid walnut stool, also by Eames($900) sit in the dust caked boxes she bought them in 14 years ago having never been used or even enjoyed. Of course its hard to enjoy them when they are surrounded by 47(and counting) large danish floor lamps, 12 full dining table and chair sets, 7 headboards(for beds she doesn't have), hundreds of troll dolls, thousands of christmas ornaments(though she hasn't had a tree in over 16 years), and hundred and hundred of cardboard boxes from orchids she has bought that sadly, mostly die in the boxes they come in because they never actually make it into the greenhouse-one I helped build over a summer as a teen. Not that it would matter as she has not properly cared for it and just about everything that isn't epiphytic is dead. This is how she lives, day in and day out. She spent the insurance money from the fire(she caused)on ebay instead of finishing the repairs. So she took out a loan(at 64) against the house itself to 'finish' the construction. She should have just repaired what was there and left it at that.
But if you read this far you know THAT would be too easy and pragmatic. Instead she decides in the middle of winter to totally expand the house, moving the front out 10 feet and expanding the kitchen by 3 times its current size. Then buying a $5,400 refrigerator when a $500-$800 would have been overkill. As it stands now the house is semi-finished and really, if the truth was told, not safely inhabitable. and she is out of money, even claiming to my sister that she is broke, not paying her bills, not taking care of her animals.
Funny...last week she managed to spend over $1,000 on ebay on what? plants, more furniture and...wait for it...xmas ornaments-even though last week she sent out an email saying she wouldn't be having christmas this year. Which is like Siran Siran saying he won't be visiting his homeland this year. of course she didn't send it to me directly but through my sister.
That would be my sister who has for the last 16 years lived in the THIRD of my mother's homes paying $600 a month for a 4 bedroom house. a house that should rent for $2,400 or more. In fact she was saving so much money she was able to buy a car-but not just any car-a limited edition Pontiac trans-am millenium model, a sports car. Shitty on mileage but horrendous on insurance. Of course because my sister was working for my mom and her partner's business she got ALL that gas paid for-for free! All she had to do was pay the car payment and even got a reduced premium because my mom added her to the company insurance policy. While she was getting paid $24 an hour!! She lived the good life, partied, went to Vegas, went on trips with her friends and got two purebred dogs-pomeranians. I later found out she was also doing the same thing for my brother who drove a cadillac, lived at home and made good money working retail-she even paid his credit card bills
Oh yeah, I should mention that during this time I was living in my car or sharing a flat with 5 other people, eating Ramen noodles and ricecakes and making $8 an hour-barely getting by. When I asked my mom that christmas if she could take me grocery shopping(I was literally starving, eating at Glide memorial,etc) her reply was "Well, things have been tight with the business, could it wait until after the holidays?"
That year the company posted revenue of over 2 million dollars.
she kindly offered to fill up my gas tank-not out of her pocket but from the business' account. I accepted but later regretted it as she never forgot to remind me of that fact for years and years. So I got $22 worth of gas and my brother and sister got thousands and thousands of dollars of free gas, insurance, food and free AAA coverage, costco cards, VIP tickets to see Phantom, you name it.
Oh, I would have gotten a costco membership too-Susan even gave me the card with my name on it-like everyone in the family got. However, when I went to use it I was told the card was no longer valid-at the register with a cart full of stuff.
Me: the account is closed?
Agent: No, it says here its still open.
Me: then why doesn't my card work?
Agent: Well, only your card was canceled.
I didn't understand so the nice agent turned her monitor to face me and there it was "Account holder J Davis called to terminate card: Steve Davis from account". So she didn't forget, and it wasn't a clerical error-she did it on purpose. Why?
Why? yeah, why. Here is why...because years ago I recognized what was happening with her OCD when it was just in the early stages. Everybody knew something was wrong but they were all benefitting from her so everyone told me to mind my own business- mom was "fine" and I was the homosexual weirdo who had no right to tell other people how to live their lives. When I turned 30 I finally broke down and tearfully told her how concerned I was about her, her life and weather she was happy or not-because to all concerned she clearly wasn't happy. That I loved her. Her response will stay with me until the day I die.
"fuck you and the horse you rode in on. Its my life, my money and my business. I am perfectly happy. mind you own fucking business and stay out of mine."
Sigh....
Now here we all are roughly a little over a decade later. My mother is almost broke, the houses are in shambles(including the one my sister lives in)and her physical health is fading. She claims as many hoarders do that "the stuff' she owns prevents her from doing anything about 'the stuff' in her life. My brother lives out of state in Texas("as far as I could get away from this family")and clearly wants nothing to do with Susan or I and thinks we should leave mom to her own devices. And where is her partner of 30+ years during all this? Like all dysfunctional people he kept enabling her until he too realized what was happening and started drinking to numb the pain of having to deal with her, her constant nagging and belittlment-and her rage. Now he, after 50 years of smoking and 4 heart attacks he can barely manage being alive and Susan-who thinks of him as her dad-thinks he will die soon because he has resumed drinking. now the fun part! my sister want me to 'fix this'. situation.
My sister has made herself out to be the martyr but she is far too immature and emotionally volatile to handle the situation appropriately. She sends email after email attacking me for not doing enough NOW, YEARS after I was the only one who said she needed help-even going as far as trying to get the family to hold an intervention at the time. Now I get attacked for trying to reason with Susan. Her emails have wonderful supportive statements like "You need to get up off your ass and start acting like you care about mom-I can't take care of her all by myself!!"
and at the same time stabs both Stuart and I in the back in emails to Mom that include things like "2 weeks ago i reached out to my brothers...YOUR SONS n was flatly denied when i asked if they can help u. When u are ready to stop trying to control everything n accept help let me know."
So she's passive aggressive, hostile, angry and immature. Wouldn't YOU take help from her? yeesh! But I have to help "fix it" even though I tried and tried for years otherwise I am "just like stuart". My FAVORITE person in the whole world to be compared to-excuse me while I light my face on fire! As if! If anyone could be said to have done LESS than Stuart I haven't met them.
And its the holidays. Yay! right? well, I'd like to be all sunny and ice cream but right now its just darn near impossible. Getting out of bed to change the cat box is about as much energy as I had all day today. The apartment is FILLED with storage boxes of various fullness. every surface has glass nic nacs on it-my beautiful birchwood shelves sit cluttered with packing supplies and more of Mark's crap as does my standing bookshelves. Even though there is room for more books I now have to store stuff in my room because I can't actually GET to the empty spaces on it. The kitchen is a mess and almost too disgusting to cook in-making a meal there means I have to scrub everything before I can even start to cook-I even keep my pots and pans in my room because I got tired of reaching for them and having my hand come back covered in greasy dust. I can't get the mildew smell out of the bathroom-what the fuck is it about chinese families and carpeting bathrooms?! I'm a very clean person-a neatnik-so I spend almost all my time at home in my bedroom-with the door closed. I am broke because work has sucked this year more than any other and I just can't seem to find a full time job. What jobs are out there I am either not qualified for or over qualified for and with everyone else out of work...its not been great. i could really use a break from it all, really.
And yet, behind me sitting asleep on the bed are two cats-one of whom almost died this year because I was too broke to take him to the vet-who love me no matter how fucked up my family and my life is. And then there is Bob, who I wouldn't have made these last several months without. and Friends-I have some really great ones. So much to be thankful for-I just wish there wasn't so much rain right now.
-------------
Oh, and I just pulled a flea off tweed. Great! now I fleas to deal with too!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Animals / December Sun (history)
the pig smiles
behind me
been sitting on the chair
all day
while I slept
dreaming of you
---------------------
that's not the fashion
these days
you put a patch on
the path from
here to there
from here to eternity
black and white movies
double indemnity
multiple identity
one person in the past
someone else tomorrow
and yet another year after
year will always produce
another one its no use
introduce you to each one
sax and violins
fill in the spaces where
clocks tick
but turn their faces
towards history
I repeated a section of this earlier in "trap" from a few days ago. I just liked the cadence and it felt right to use it here again.
behind me
been sitting on the chair
all day
while I slept
dreaming of you
---------------------
that's not the fashion
these days
you put a patch on
the path from
here to there
from here to eternity
black and white movies
double indemnity
multiple identity
one person in the past
someone else tomorrow
and yet another year after
year will always produce
another one its no use
introduce you to each one
sax and violins
fill in the spaces where
clocks tick
but turn their faces
towards history
I repeated a section of this earlier in "trap" from a few days ago. I just liked the cadence and it felt right to use it here again.
not saying goodbye
when we said goodbye
all the potions became drank
empty bottles
wobbled and
fell down
cast my gaze
back to years ago
the milltown express
crashed through the
gates of disention,
my childhood depression
not letting on
half-hedged bets.
this is my life
not saying goodbye
too much wine left to drink
and the rum
and the vodka
one more glass and
I love ya madly
let it dry on the sink
the picture of your mother
she is dead
on the wall in the background
so who cares what she thinks?
(*unfinished)
==================
A true artist will never stop
all the potions became drank
empty bottles
wobbled and
fell down
cast my gaze
back to years ago
the milltown express
crashed through the
gates of disention,
my childhood depression
not letting on
half-hedged bets.
this is my life
not saying goodbye
too much wine left to drink
and the rum
and the vodka
one more glass and
I love ya madly
let it dry on the sink
the picture of your mother
she is dead
on the wall in the background
so who cares what she thinks?
(*unfinished)
==================
A true artist will never stop
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
"Hedonist"
When I am 59 years old I want to be able to look back at my life and say I did more than simply get myself laid and sell stuff. God am I glad mark and I broke up-his life seems so meaningless, boring and repetitive. Its no wonder I was just bored to tears with the non-life we were not having. What a dull, dull life he seems to have-and lucky...because if he didn't have friends that needed(sort of) work he sure wouldn't have gotten through this past year's economy without them. Of course that can't last forever-winter is coming and his house of cards is about to get soaked to the bone. Hopefully I am not here in this apartment when that happens.
Me: Who was that?
Mark: just some guy...
talk about a metaphor for his entire life..."Just some guy". Yawn!
Me: Who was that?
Mark: just some guy...
talk about a metaphor for his entire life..."Just some guy". Yawn!
Monday, November 29, 2010
This Is The Modern World!!!
There are stacks and stacks of McSweeney's behind me-taunting me with wonderous riches. The computers are relocated and I just have to sit down with the PC laptop and see if this is just one of those "viruses" that require you to purchase software-the equivilent of extortion-in order to fix a hard drive that I don't think was broken and FAR from full. Some thing is fishy but I want that thing OFF the network until I figure out what hell happened=and get it fixed hopefully. Fingers Crossed!!!
Friday, November 26, 2010
re/mem/ber
left your mother's
apron in the rain
cut the rhododendron
in the wrong place again
further than than she would have
would you ever find a way to leave this place
on the back of a book
on the back of shadows
know a lot of people
but after a while you
get tired of draining
the pool.
spark; resistance
timber and the persistence
of fools telemetry
swim and swim
will you ever go the distance?
constantly wondering
will there ever be a way back?
or will we end up blind,
mumbling and delivering
gibberish in exile
like jack kerouac?
the rain hits the roof
here like the arrows
of arithematic breaking
on the coast full of lingering shipwrecks
their hidden coins tarnished
like riches kept for ages
when slow light
moves away
from history's
pages.
(First Mac Posting! Thanks AJ!)
apron in the rain
cut the rhododendron
in the wrong place again
further than than she would have
would you ever find a way to leave this place
on the back of a book
on the back of shadows
know a lot of people
but after a while you
get tired of draining
the pool.
spark; resistance
timber and the persistence
of fools telemetry
swim and swim
will you ever go the distance?
constantly wondering
will there ever be a way back?
or will we end up blind,
mumbling and delivering
gibberish in exile
like jack kerouac?
the rain hits the roof
here like the arrows
of arithematic breaking
on the coast full of lingering shipwrecks
their hidden coins tarnished
like riches kept for ages
when slow light
moves away
from history's
pages.
(First Mac Posting! Thanks AJ!)
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Callas Interpolation (grief for invisible sound)
hiss, crackles
rattles out of the
radiophoric stereo hero
trying to find the angle
removing the incorrect
jangles; a perfect mix
this drug I'll never kick
a magic trick
dance of deliverance
solace, tolerance.
wake to noise
silently lean into
the cracks in sound,
the bright sparkles
and loose flying particles
create a new myth
differentiated truth
never up to us
just sand through clear glass
bitterly stained
and invisibly toxic
bit rates, spin and vanish
infused metal
coated with varnish
memories never tarnish
but oxide breaths
breathe disease in between
tracks-warmer now in the autumn
leaning into trees,
jealous leaves not meant
to strike color
to strike a chord
disharmoniously in the cutting floor films
winds, divided, died in the wool
crushed in the hand
destroy the heart she said
drive the pain away
into the lonliness
of a single
dying sound.
the last breath
before a great voice
is silenced.
(and
when
her
body
is
dead
her
song's
spirit
will
rise
up
and
out
of
her
mouth
like
a
great
hunter
and
escape
in
to
the
winds
to
fill
the
lungs
and
fuel
the
breaths
of
every
singer
everywhere
ever)
rattles out of the
radiophoric stereo hero
trying to find the angle
removing the incorrect
jangles; a perfect mix
this drug I'll never kick
a magic trick
dance of deliverance
solace, tolerance.
wake to noise
silently lean into
the cracks in sound,
the bright sparkles
and loose flying particles
create a new myth
differentiated truth
never up to us
just sand through clear glass
bitterly stained
and invisibly toxic
bit rates, spin and vanish
infused metal
coated with varnish
memories never tarnish
but oxide breaths
breathe disease in between
tracks-warmer now in the autumn
leaning into trees,
jealous leaves not meant
to strike color
to strike a chord
disharmoniously in the cutting floor films
winds, divided, died in the wool
crushed in the hand
destroy the heart she said
drive the pain away
into the lonliness
of a single
dying sound.
the last breath
before a great voice
is silenced.
(and
when
her
body
is
dead
her
song's
spirit
will
rise
up
and
out
of
her
mouth
like
a
great
hunter
and
escape
in
to
the
winds
to
fill
the
lungs
and
fuel
the
breaths
of
every
singer
everywhere
ever)
Spiders Are Free
from family drama
from anxiety
from money
from pain
Misunderstood
Feared
Under appeciated
Slandered
And maybe like me they just want to be appreciated for trying to add beauty to the world instead of tearing it a new hole in selfishness.
see you girls next summer*
from anxiety
from money
from pain
Misunderstood
Feared
Under appeciated
Slandered
And maybe like me they just want to be appreciated for trying to add beauty to the world instead of tearing it a new hole in selfishness.
see you girls next summer*
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Butterflies in August
dancing alone
in an empty room
animals in cages
just endless pacing
the beast is tame
dreams of Canada,
butterflies in august
drowning in the
falling rain.
in an empty room
animals in cages
just endless pacing
the beast is tame
dreams of Canada,
butterflies in august
drowning in the
falling rain.
Trap
part visionary
part fool
particularly spectacular liar
partially dashing and ravishing
part way to the
party and half way
like the path
way leading to
the king of cool.
part fool
particularly spectacular liar
partially dashing and ravishing
part way to the
party and half way
like the path
way leading to
the king of cool.
Doctor Miscommunication
who would've thought
wrong
all the tests come back negative
all the tests come back
to haunt you
singing like angels
of death in your non-sleep
the broken lines
and the broken home
break up the ending
of the difficult song
whatever they say
you have to do
whatever missed communication
they hesitate,
we wait
locked in a room
somewhere
waving my hands
like a crazy person
in the air
they find your nick name
on his neck chain
correct change
when all the
gambling came
to an expensive end
some time to kill
some sleeping pills
valium, downers,
drugs for out of towners
roll out of one
bed into another
the dogs bark
the corked suburban still life
fruit on the table
bills paid when you feel able
would you even notice
if you were alone
when it became dark
was it any fun
when the harpies and
the witches
came and
stole your tongue?
wrong
all the tests come back negative
all the tests come back
to haunt you
singing like angels
of death in your non-sleep
the broken lines
and the broken home
break up the ending
of the difficult song
whatever they say
you have to do
whatever missed communication
they hesitate,
we wait
locked in a room
somewhere
waving my hands
like a crazy person
in the air
they find your nick name
on his neck chain
correct change
when all the
gambling came
to an expensive end
some time to kill
some sleeping pills
valium, downers,
drugs for out of towners
roll out of one
bed into another
the dogs bark
the corked suburban still life
fruit on the table
bills paid when you feel able
would you even notice
if you were alone
when it became dark
was it any fun
when the harpies and
the witches
came and
stole your tongue?
Monday, November 15, 2010
Hot In The City, Tonight
Its so hot today for a winter day in November-because 80 fucking degrees is ridiculous this time of year. Global Warming? That's just gobbledegook cooked up by those brainwashed wacko liberals, right?
All I know is that there are places in the world where the median temperature has gone up more than 1.5 degrees in the last 20 years, generally a phenomenon that takes HUNDREDS of years. So who is responsible is really a moot point now-we ARE running out of oil. The global temp IS going up. Tidal waves, subsea earthquakes and tsunamis ARE becoming more frequent and most importantly-they're getting stronger. If SF were to have a quake similar to the scope and size of the one in Chili, we'd be FUCKED. SOMA, The Marina and other parts of the city would liquify instantly or be underwater altogether. At least where I am now is on bedrock so its going to shake like crazy and break stuff but won't be swallowed by the earth at least.
All I know is that there are places in the world where the median temperature has gone up more than 1.5 degrees in the last 20 years, generally a phenomenon that takes HUNDREDS of years. So who is responsible is really a moot point now-we ARE running out of oil. The global temp IS going up. Tidal waves, subsea earthquakes and tsunamis ARE becoming more frequent and most importantly-they're getting stronger. If SF were to have a quake similar to the scope and size of the one in Chili, we'd be FUCKED. SOMA, The Marina and other parts of the city would liquify instantly or be underwater altogether. At least where I am now is on bedrock so its going to shake like crazy and break stuff but won't be swallowed by the earth at least.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Down Libraries
Late November's light
set against a sunshine scrim.
how many years
has it been?
Your heart
stared at Medusa's face,
(her snakes
are paper thin.)
your literate desires
burn down libraries
in the storm of words
you exchange in sleep.
the machine starts up again
when we reach the sea
would have liked
more than one
who recognized
we're on empty,
the lone arm
waving a white flag
in the driving snow.
done with Civil wars
disheveled lives and loves
mistrusted trysts
and added risks,
funeral plans
typewritten sans
parenthesis stands
wrapped around
future plans
it all blows away
they turn blue
and hollow faces
replaces aces
in a once winning hand.
set against a sunshine scrim.
how many years
has it been?
Your heart
stared at Medusa's face,
(her snakes
are paper thin.)
your literate desires
burn down libraries
in the storm of words
you exchange in sleep.
the machine starts up again
when we reach the sea
would have liked
more than one
who recognized
we're on empty,
the lone arm
waving a white flag
in the driving snow.
done with Civil wars
disheveled lives and loves
mistrusted trysts
and added risks,
funeral plans
typewritten sans
parenthesis stands
wrapped around
future plans
it all blows away
they turn blue
and hollow faces
replaces aces
in a once winning hand.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Regards To The Stars (unedited)
you count your blessings
you want a life
you can't afford
time to wash your face
its been days
blame it on the bottle
this town will pickle you
you'd do well
untell the story
soon its over
at the beginning
when the gulls flew
and the fallen women
helped storm clouds
gather here
jellyfish drift like
smoke and haze
in the broken
glass reflections.
neon in the background,
hounds of hell tattoos
tells of a lie that's honest
born angry, just the open wound
bared the bile of the soul
while we lie to ourselves,
the canvas is big
the view point is wide
when the past and future meet
at the beginning and the end of time,
there is a hand
reaching out from a door
the hallway is dark
the room is full of light
at the edge of forever
everything is brilliant
and shining
and white.
you want a life
you can't afford
time to wash your face
its been days
blame it on the bottle
this town will pickle you
you'd do well
untell the story
soon its over
at the beginning
when the gulls flew
and the fallen women
helped storm clouds
gather here
jellyfish drift like
smoke and haze
in the broken
glass reflections.
neon in the background,
hounds of hell tattoos
tells of a lie that's honest
born angry, just the open wound
bared the bile of the soul
while we lie to ourselves,
the canvas is big
the view point is wide
when the past and future meet
at the beginning and the end of time,
there is a hand
reaching out from a door
the hallway is dark
the room is full of light
at the edge of forever
everything is brilliant
and shining
and white.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Frozen Waves (far across the sea you're hiding)
Do you remember
the boy I used to be?
standing by the birch trees
a white hot sky
and birds singing,
name calling,
calling your name,
calling you out
on your shame.
what you're hiding
inside describing
someone who feels
like dying.
magicians manifest
the act of deceit,
conceit repeated
for all to see,
the magic of waves,
the magic of sound,
the magic blades
shoot into comets
locked in the tree
darkened shades,
fade and wander
shrouded by frequencies
vibrating cerulean darkness
summons deep
ice blue catacombs,
iridescent blue,
cataloged
and waterlogged
by ancient waters
that ran true.
the rabbit breathes
again, the handkerchief
changes colors,
flies through space
and distant stars die,
collide and change their colors.
minute particles
slip away into the
past light, previous
starways pass the harbor
strays, dancing ghosts
and placid hosts,
north star, guiding light
blue heavens;
where the
gods toast.
the boy I used to be?
standing by the birch trees
a white hot sky
and birds singing,
name calling,
calling your name,
calling you out
on your shame.
what you're hiding
inside describing
someone who feels
like dying.
magicians manifest
the act of deceit,
conceit repeated
for all to see,
the magic of waves,
the magic of sound,
the magic blades
shoot into comets
locked in the tree
darkened shades,
fade and wander
shrouded by frequencies
vibrating cerulean darkness
summons deep
ice blue catacombs,
iridescent blue,
cataloged
and waterlogged
by ancient waters
that ran true.
the rabbit breathes
again, the handkerchief
changes colors,
flies through space
and distant stars die,
collide and change their colors.
minute particles
slip away into the
past light, previous
starways pass the harbor
strays, dancing ghosts
and placid hosts,
north star, guiding light
blue heavens;
where the
gods toast.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
crystal days (clear)
trace his path
across the face
of a painting
of a stage
please...
lights go by
black and white
images filled
with post-war
misery,
please...
Other days
promises made to
children explode
and gazing out my window
another dawn shatters
like crystals
in a geode
like jewels
that make women
scream
please,
come back,
baby..
(and FUCK Meg Whitman....no, really.)
across the face
of a painting
of a stage
please...
lights go by
black and white
images filled
with post-war
misery,
please...
Other days
promises made to
children explode
and gazing out my window
another dawn shatters
like crystals
in a geode
like jewels
that make women
scream
please,
come back,
baby..
(and FUCK Meg Whitman....no, really.)
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
For All The Cunts in Marin County
Demons
offer conjecture
suburban wives
offer lecture
but lecture yourself
you rot the
shelf
your canned goods
sit on.
log on,
dot com
stay at home mom
careless
care less
care less about
everything
that stands for
something
that stands for you.
you bleed
claiming agony
but servant
in your matron's tower
reduced to ashes
lacking feminine power
but still usurped
perturbed, you claim
demons came to take
the perfect undisturbed
uninsured, inured.
scandal perpetuated
by whoring jackals
and their offspring
cloven hooved and rooted
in evil
like thresher sharks
tearing at flesh
gone mad with the
killing frenzy
of chaos.
and yeah, fuck you, you stupid lazy SOW of a pathetic excuse for a mother. Fuck your victim mentality. play the lamb, then cry loudest at the least worthwhile time. I am SO fucking SICK of women who use their children as shields against having to deal with the world. FOR GODSAKKES WHATABOUT THE CHILDREN?!? My mother taught me to keep what little money I had in my wallet. and never leave my wallet out where someone could see it. Backpacks? Pe-shaw! If you are too fucking stupid to tell your kids to keep their cash in a wallet(or their pocket)at the very least-then either YOU are sorely lacking in common sense or your kids are fucking retards, but since they were raised by YOU, what's the excuse? You can't take care of 3 kids at once? Wait! I forgot this is Marin where kids float on clouds, do whatever they want and are uber protected by dimwit mothers who stand by and do NOTHING, SAY Nothing and then...I'm the thief? Fuck you, you bitch! You claim we stole from you-when we're not there to defend ourselves, how nice!-when you know damn well we have nothing that belongs to you?
Guess what...next time I see you I am going to give you a piece my mind-a big one- so you NEVER forget what happens when you STUPIDLY expect the world to protect your kids from real life-and try and badmouth me on top of it.
offer conjecture
suburban wives
offer lecture
but lecture yourself
you rot the
shelf
your canned goods
sit on.
log on,
dot com
stay at home mom
careless
care less
care less about
everything
that stands for
something
that stands for you.
you bleed
claiming agony
but servant
in your matron's tower
reduced to ashes
lacking feminine power
but still usurped
perturbed, you claim
demons came to take
the perfect undisturbed
uninsured, inured.
scandal perpetuated
by whoring jackals
and their offspring
cloven hooved and rooted
in evil
like thresher sharks
tearing at flesh
gone mad with the
killing frenzy
of chaos.
and yeah, fuck you, you stupid lazy SOW of a pathetic excuse for a mother. Fuck your victim mentality. play the lamb, then cry loudest at the least worthwhile time. I am SO fucking SICK of women who use their children as shields against having to deal with the world. FOR GODSAKKES WHATABOUT THE CHILDREN?!? My mother taught me to keep what little money I had in my wallet. and never leave my wallet out where someone could see it. Backpacks? Pe-shaw! If you are too fucking stupid to tell your kids to keep their cash in a wallet(or their pocket)at the very least-then either YOU are sorely lacking in common sense or your kids are fucking retards, but since they were raised by YOU, what's the excuse? You can't take care of 3 kids at once? Wait! I forgot this is Marin where kids float on clouds, do whatever they want and are uber protected by dimwit mothers who stand by and do NOTHING, SAY Nothing and then...I'm the thief? Fuck you, you bitch! You claim we stole from you-when we're not there to defend ourselves, how nice!-when you know damn well we have nothing that belongs to you?
Guess what...next time I see you I am going to give you a piece my mind-a big one- so you NEVER forget what happens when you STUPIDLY expect the world to protect your kids from real life-and try and badmouth me on top of it.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Morning Escape (blue dawn)
Old time money
is fading
books unbound
flip, whipping
around in the air
impaired
my hollow atmospheric
stare at the rockets
red glare
stitches in woolen
arcades unraveling
in the cold
evening twilight
words reabsorbed
in to the very first page
these words, invisible
thimblefuls.
the first page
is blank like the second
and the record begins
with nothing
but crackles
and mysterious hissing
grooves long and thin
with delights
trapped within
and long winding high
ceiling cathedrals filled
with inept spirits
who long for a host
a steeple filled
with people
and spectral shipwrecked arms
gather flowers
overhead.
is fading
books unbound
flip, whipping
around in the air
impaired
my hollow atmospheric
stare at the rockets
red glare
stitches in woolen
arcades unraveling
in the cold
evening twilight
words reabsorbed
in to the very first page
these words, invisible
thimblefuls.
the first page
is blank like the second
and the record begins
with nothing
but crackles
and mysterious hissing
grooves long and thin
with delights
trapped within
and long winding high
ceiling cathedrals filled
with inept spirits
who long for a host
a steeple filled
with people
and spectral shipwrecked arms
gather flowers
overhead.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Halloween
The witches tune
sung to the moon.
dark skies
and goblins
coming soon.
bauhaus plays in
the background of the
room, its gloom
here in October
the perfect
place to be.
sung to the moon.
dark skies
and goblins
coming soon.
bauhaus plays in
the background of the
room, its gloom
here in October
the perfect
place to be.
Friday, October 29, 2010
No October Needed / (you always run to sleep)
his footprint
across unlit
pavillions
distilled
to where
the air
is no longer needed
like a diamond
or the light
in a spark
dancing across
hot wires,
moons reflecting
on the surface
of an owl's eye
in the blink
of the flapping wing
the drop of a new tear
cleanse the wounds
and pains yet
to appear.
across unlit
pavillions
distilled
to where
the air
is no longer needed
like a diamond
or the light
in a spark
dancing across
hot wires,
moons reflecting
on the surface
of an owl's eye
in the blink
of the flapping wing
the drop of a new tear
cleanse the wounds
and pains yet
to appear.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Johnny Ace
let me tell you
about johnny
and the starfuckers
and also-rans
and the ones who longed to
be longed after
who chased and scored
and vanished.
My indie film
casting couch whim
my partner edits films
for some famous editing guy
what do you mean
you've never heard of him?
cool kids, unspooling
in the modern age
from black to grey
minor threat
black flag new wave
every scene, every stare
every drug you ever heard
and a whole bunch more.
I've been in everything
you haven't seen.
my best moments in all
my films
never end up on the
screen, chopped
and floored
like some extra
longing to be
the backlot whore.
my life is art,
my films are free
would you buy my DVD?
----
unfinished*
about johnny
and the starfuckers
and also-rans
and the ones who longed to
be longed after
who chased and scored
and vanished.
My indie film
casting couch whim
my partner edits films
for some famous editing guy
what do you mean
you've never heard of him?
cool kids, unspooling
in the modern age
from black to grey
minor threat
black flag new wave
every scene, every stare
every drug you ever heard
and a whole bunch more.
I've been in everything
you haven't seen.
my best moments in all
my films
never end up on the
screen, chopped
and floored
like some extra
longing to be
the backlot whore.
my life is art,
my films are free
would you buy my DVD?
----
unfinished*
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Love & Vampires
miracles
are the same color
as candy
as honey
as the color
of his hair
riding on handlebars
chewing bubblegum
your brother
never took
you here
over the hedge
beside the lake
two boys learned
to love mistakes
to know the
unknown sew
the undone
find a pathway
through the
darkness
of the maze
at long last
let the sadness
rest aloft
on the wingless
nameless fathomless
impossible breaths
he looks like a god just holding some flowers
the window is down
seasalted air and the
feeling of love overpowers
ancient Rome,
the armies of death
lingering from
the past
all die and vanish
like smoke
the yoke is lifted
drifting off
unhinged, emitting
two boys wonder
at a great distance
clocks and calendars
disappear and earth
lets loose its Van Ellen belt
like dry curls of wallpaper
falling to the floor
in an old rotting
carnal house
full of vampires
fed by your desire.
are the same color
as candy
as honey
as the color
of his hair
riding on handlebars
chewing bubblegum
your brother
never took
you here
over the hedge
beside the lake
two boys learned
to love mistakes
to know the
unknown sew
the undone
find a pathway
through the
darkness
of the maze
at long last
let the sadness
rest aloft
on the wingless
nameless fathomless
impossible breaths
he looks like a god just holding some flowers
the window is down
seasalted air and the
feeling of love overpowers
ancient Rome,
the armies of death
lingering from
the past
all die and vanish
like smoke
the yoke is lifted
drifting off
unhinged, emitting
two boys wonder
at a great distance
clocks and calendars
disappear and earth
lets loose its Van Ellen belt
like dry curls of wallpaper
falling to the floor
in an old rotting
carnal house
full of vampires
fed by your desire.
Friday, October 22, 2010
4th of July
the sky
off the port side
of this ship
is diamonds
cobalt blue
bleeds crimson red
into mandarin atmospheres
dithered up from
air into shades
of disappear.
workers, dreamers
sparkling and glittering
tethered like sailors
against 4th of July
fireworks going
off inside
your heart.
Yeah, baby....
off the port side
of this ship
is diamonds
cobalt blue
bleeds crimson red
into mandarin atmospheres
dithered up from
air into shades
of disappear.
workers, dreamers
sparkling and glittering
tethered like sailors
against 4th of July
fireworks going
off inside
your heart.
Yeah, baby....
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
State of the Nation
lying in state
desperate and tranquilized
less than human in your eyes
they must have cried a
thousand tears
rinsed like rainstorms
from porcelain to
an antiseptic notion
desperate and tranquilized
less than human in your eyes
they must have cried a
thousand tears
rinsed like rainstorms
from porcelain to
an antiseptic notion
Rat Race (requiem for six new angels and the army of dead lovers)
dog running down the street
scared to death
running running running
trying to get away
or get to SOMEwhere
so he won't have to run
anymore
his feet are sore.
we've all seen it before
like scores upon score.
boy running down the street
scared to death
running
to get somewhere
safe
somewhere he won't
have to worry about running.
a place that heals
his sore heart
a place that safely says
express THIS part
of who you are.
we've seen it all
before, the last
hand silently turns
and closes the door...
old man running
down the street.
enclosed by steel boxes
first one with wheels
then one without.
no more voices
only faint traces
of faces within
memory's palace
running running
running to the void
scared to death
running running running
trying to get away
or get to SOMEwhere
so he won't have to run
anymore
his feet are sore.
we've all seen it before
like scores upon score.
boy running down the street
scared to death
running
to get somewhere
safe
somewhere he won't
have to worry about running.
a place that heals
his sore heart
a place that safely says
express THIS part
of who you are.
we've seen it all
before, the last
hand silently turns
and closes the door...
old man running
down the street.
enclosed by steel boxes
first one with wheels
then one without.
no more voices
only faint traces
of faces within
memory's palace
running running
running to the void
Saturday, October 16, 2010
I Remember Greene Street
a grain
of sand
through
glass
nick drake
sings
and hours
and chocolate
and strawberry
oceans wash
past.
the last
sunlapped petal
drapes intself
against fractal
abstract skies
waves lapse
as society castes
aside clawed lions
in english
countryside
past times.
-
nobody sings
about jesus
being alone
no one ever
sings
about being stoned
on the phone
the calendar
keeps track of
dope and mechanical
memories
made of soap
no body loves you
no body sees
no one needs a reason
but your corruption
is just too extreme
in agony
I can see
what's up your sleeve
the dreams that
leak like water
from the bottom
of a sack.
I said I loved you
and it was true
only one man knows better
the man in the moon
we talk for hours babe
I meant no harm
Harms not very good.
nobody loves you like
me and the dogs.
No one sees your
soul in repose
and slowly
as the hours pour
like dry martinis
in spectral shakers
heading for the sea
no one will remember
how many you poured
for me
of sand
through
glass
nick drake
sings
and hours
and chocolate
and strawberry
oceans wash
past.
the last
sunlapped petal
drapes intself
against fractal
abstract skies
waves lapse
as society castes
aside clawed lions
in english
countryside
past times.
-
nobody sings
about jesus
being alone
no one ever
sings
about being stoned
on the phone
the calendar
keeps track of
dope and mechanical
memories
made of soap
no body loves you
no body sees
no one needs a reason
but your corruption
is just too extreme
in agony
I can see
what's up your sleeve
the dreams that
leak like water
from the bottom
of a sack.
I said I loved you
and it was true
only one man knows better
the man in the moon
we talk for hours babe
I meant no harm
Harms not very good.
nobody loves you like
me and the dogs.
No one sees your
soul in repose
and slowly
as the hours pour
like dry martinis
in spectral shakers
heading for the sea
no one will remember
how many you poured
for me
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Happily lost in the middle of (Nowhere)
the residue
of a thousand
world war twos
compressed into
an afternoon.
Like early deaths
or less expressed regrets
everything seems
to come too soon.
the last beat of a breast
our chest at its fullest
why wait for
dismissal, life's
winter thistle
drawn across
the soles of
our feet
hit the road
like its on fire
see clear past
the befuddled
trees.
(talk, the mind expands, its not easy but was the inescapable lack of clarity in this world what I rebel against to begin with? How do you fight against things when the world says everything is wrong? I don't understand why things are confusing sometimes but I know that I breached the hardest barrier of all in life which is realize that everything I am, everything that I have, all the ability that I possess-that I am thankful for everything. Everything is transitory. There is as much life on the surface of a painting as there is on the floor of the ocean. mountains crumble and clocks run out of batteries. The world is FULL OF EVIL but I won't give up because I have seen blue skies. I still think we can ALL get there.
The suicides of gay children make me wanna holler. we send our children off to die. throw handfuls of daisies into the wind. escape. sleep. dreams. bob.
of a thousand
world war twos
compressed into
an afternoon.
Like early deaths
or less expressed regrets
everything seems
to come too soon.
the last beat of a breast
our chest at its fullest
why wait for
dismissal, life's
winter thistle
drawn across
the soles of
our feet
hit the road
like its on fire
see clear past
the befuddled
trees.
(talk, the mind expands, its not easy but was the inescapable lack of clarity in this world what I rebel against to begin with? How do you fight against things when the world says everything is wrong? I don't understand why things are confusing sometimes but I know that I breached the hardest barrier of all in life which is realize that everything I am, everything that I have, all the ability that I possess-that I am thankful for everything. Everything is transitory. There is as much life on the surface of a painting as there is on the floor of the ocean. mountains crumble and clocks run out of batteries. The world is FULL OF EVIL but I won't give up because I have seen blue skies. I still think we can ALL get there.
The suicides of gay children make me wanna holler. we send our children off to die. throw handfuls of daisies into the wind. escape. sleep. dreams. bob.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Allison Moyet Sings at Kirsty MacColl Tribute Concert
Oh my god I am sitting here in TEARS! TEARS!! And Alf looks amazing! I don't think I have ever seen her this thin in the 30+ years I have listened to her sing(Yaz,Fad Gadget or solo). Its clear she loves this song and Kirsty. I hope somewhere Kirsty is watching and listening and loving this as much as I am.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
This Charming Man
This Charming Man - Morrissey/Marr
A punctured bicycle
On a hillside desolate
Will nature make a man of me yet ?
When in this charming car
This charming man
Why pamper life's complexity
When the leather runs smooth
On the passenger seat ?
I would go out tonight
But I haven't got a stitch to wear
This man said "It's gruesome that someone so handsome should care"
A jumped up pantry boy
Who never knew his place
He said "return the ring"
He knows so much about these things
He knows so much about these things
I would go out tonight
But I haven't got a stitch to wear
This man said "It's gruesome that someone so handsome should care"
Na, na-na, na-na, na-na, this charming man ...
Na, na-na, na-na, na-na, this charming man ...
A jumped up pantry boy
Who never knew his place
He said "return the ring"
He knows so much about these things
He knows so much about these things
He knows so much about these things
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Hope You Burn in Hell
Dharun Ravi and Molly Wei-what kind of sick fucking monsters are you? Who would do something like this for fun? for FUN? I hope someone ass-rapes the both of you in jail. And now some really wonderful gay person with a talent for music is dead. I hope you're fucking happy-fuck you! fuck you! fuck you! rot in hell!
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Beautiful Creatures - Tweed
He looks very regal in his posture and I love the heroic pose I captured.
Yeah, its too hot to sleep. We're all up...roaming around the house looking worn out and overheated so I thought I'd do what I normally do when I need to do SOMETHING on autopilot and took pictures.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
A Single Thought
standing overture
overnight sensation
plays can close in half a week
won't close down
on you.
<3
overnight sensation
plays can close in half a week
won't close down
on you.
<3
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Alegory for Alex Grey
glass
shattering into
encased stone
far a field in flame
scattering like a shield
or a sea of stars
in a field of fire.
shattering into
encased stone
far a field in flame
scattering like a shield
or a sea of stars
in a field of fire.
Time (redux)
Might and beautiful
he held out his hand
like Beauxillious griffins
stolen during Belgian wars
skipping through the
vast quarters
but like all grand
things, once removed
from use by age
or indifference
taken away from its
important place
even monuments
are just stone.
Over time everything
becomes something else
becomes another part of itself
or totally different.
the inference is to time
atoms never see
a clock ticking.
he held out his hand
like Beauxillious griffins
stolen during Belgian wars
skipping through the
vast quarters
but like all grand
things, once removed
from use by age
or indifference
taken away from its
important place
even monuments
are just stone.
Over time everything
becomes something else
becomes another part of itself
or totally different.
the inference is to time
atoms never see
a clock ticking.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Bob Saves
no action
without consequences
no fairy tale theater
of the absurd
no white picket fences
you have to look hard
while choking on the
dust and the smoke
to see her...
daylight through
the bubbles
is amazing
but I'm crazy
making up trouble
trying to get to you.
swing your purse
or drive a hearse
the mirror will continue
to laugh.
you get old
lots of junk on account
pay for the past
with a dried up future
you have to sing in
the gale force winds
to see her...
I'm behind the waterfall
hiding in my cynics cloak
where its wet and cold
and I'm told
no one ever comes.
but you,
you part the skies
devastate the waves
don't believe in god
but Bob Saves.
without consequences
no fairy tale theater
of the absurd
no white picket fences
you have to look hard
while choking on the
dust and the smoke
to see her...
daylight through
the bubbles
is amazing
but I'm crazy
making up trouble
trying to get to you.
swing your purse
or drive a hearse
the mirror will continue
to laugh.
you get old
lots of junk on account
pay for the past
with a dried up future
you have to sing in
the gale force winds
to see her...
I'm behind the waterfall
hiding in my cynics cloak
where its wet and cold
and I'm told
no one ever comes.
but you,
you part the skies
devastate the waves
don't believe in god
but Bob Saves.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Concept Sketches For The Other Place
Working on some larger ideas these days (can't fill up those big gallery walls with 11 x 17 images)and for that I sometimes do these rough outs to help keep the idea and eventual execution sharp in my mind. Lord knows there is a heap o'fuzziness in there!
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Corrosive Agent / 73
another layer peels away
and I am me again.
which one this time
will I become
a shadow on the
mouth of the
fourth moon...
no...
and I am me again.
which one this time
will I become
a shadow on the
mouth of the
fourth moon...
no...
Monday, September 13, 2010
Blues For The Divine Flesh (in 3 parts)
chasing sensation
the notion
of floating
across cities
escaping
what's left of
your imagination
suddenly
a bright light catches
your eye
and you're
hoping that this
flight gives you
the truth.
-------------------
castigating wretchedness
amongst scores
of butchers
hooks, crooked
in tandem with the
dreams of
the damned
sides of bacon and ham
and the last tiny voices
of an animal's
death rattle
and cry
the elixir against
the unknowable,
the toast to all
trapped animals
small pens
like us
trying to escape
but running in place
those forgotten faces
the final solution
of the master race.
--------------------
and its
transitory
50 is the
new forty
a shortage
of exploratory
courdoroy rivers
racing across
acres of tundra
wonderful mountains
caught up in wales
and the winds
of this beautiful
august.
the notion
of floating
across cities
escaping
what's left of
your imagination
suddenly
a bright light catches
your eye
and you're
hoping that this
flight gives you
the truth.
-------------------
castigating wretchedness
amongst scores
of butchers
hooks, crooked
in tandem with the
dreams of
the damned
sides of bacon and ham
and the last tiny voices
of an animal's
death rattle
and cry
the elixir against
the unknowable,
the toast to all
trapped animals
small pens
like us
trying to escape
but running in place
those forgotten faces
the final solution
of the master race.
--------------------
and its
transitory
50 is the
new forty
a shortage
of exploratory
courdoroy rivers
racing across
acres of tundra
wonderful mountains
caught up in wales
and the winds
of this beautiful
august.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
we only wanted the stars
I don't have names for all the colors in the sky
I'm high as this dream will fly
over golden bridges and
azure dawns
saw gold.
missed a flash of green
but saw fireworks
behind your eyes
we've skipped through the park
squeezed ourselves
through a hole in the fence
all you ever wanted
was everything
all you ever got was told
get up
sit up
elbows off the table
there's no love
cause they weren't able.
no rules
you're a fool
to love someone
with a mind so cluttered
dying light
fading starter
warped copy of 'get carter'.
highway 101
high way off the map
mishap in san diego
let all the condors loose
I'm high as this dream will fly
over golden bridges and
azure dawns
saw gold.
missed a flash of green
but saw fireworks
behind your eyes
we've skipped through the park
squeezed ourselves
through a hole in the fence
all you ever wanted
was everything
all you ever got was told
get up
sit up
elbows off the table
there's no love
cause they weren't able.
no rules
you're a fool
to love someone
with a mind so cluttered
dying light
fading starter
warped copy of 'get carter'.
highway 101
high way off the map
mishap in san diego
let all the condors loose
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Love in the Moonlight
Two statues
for years
on pedestals in a park.
on permanent parade.
110 in the shade
days go on
and on the same,
the seasons revolve
around the two of them.
like flowers around
the sun
no heliotrophic action
for all the stillness
of nature
to be undone.
How history passes
them by
corrosion grows
through their
eyes.
no need for faith
even if the
seas rise.
They stare
at one another
ever steady
in any weather
white and chalk
and green and gray
until one night
when lightning strikes
animated arms
and shields and books
wrestle free
amongst the trees
joints creak
and burst,
silent cement
speaks its first
across the years
one thing sears
memory; thirst.
To hold
to stroll,
don't know how long
we have freedom,
we may not
travel to foreign lands
but at least we can each
if just across
the park,
hold hands.
(In the morning, both statues have returned to their former positions, resting atop their pedestals. But for the faint scratches and brushed off moss, did they move at all? No one knows what happened that night in the park.)
for years
on pedestals in a park.
on permanent parade.
110 in the shade
days go on
and on the same,
the seasons revolve
around the two of them.
like flowers around
the sun
no heliotrophic action
for all the stillness
of nature
to be undone.
How history passes
them by
corrosion grows
through their
eyes.
no need for faith
even if the
seas rise.
They stare
at one another
ever steady
in any weather
white and chalk
and green and gray
until one night
when lightning strikes
animated arms
and shields and books
wrestle free
amongst the trees
joints creak
and burst,
silent cement
speaks its first
across the years
one thing sears
memory; thirst.
To hold
to stroll,
don't know how long
we have freedom,
we may not
travel to foreign lands
but at least we can each
if just across
the park,
hold hands.
(In the morning, both statues have returned to their former positions, resting atop their pedestals. But for the faint scratches and brushed off moss, did they move at all? No one knows what happened that night in the park.)
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Non Vageries
you
become waves
inside waves
of pleasure.
waterfalls,
endless streets
beautiful trees
even the bugs
in the ground
are treasure
(you'll see)
when you're
around.
become waves
inside waves
of pleasure.
waterfalls,
endless streets
beautiful trees
even the bugs
in the ground
are treasure
(you'll see)
when you're
around.
Bobolicious
should the world
fail to fall apart
goblins foiled
running havoc
halted and faltering
in the windswept
plains of battle.
You, there
in the rising smoke
and steam,
like a gleam
through a prism
your beam
shines through
demons,
tears that cut
like shards of glass
too many points
of light
for one person
normally to have.
fail to fall apart
goblins foiled
running havoc
halted and faltering
in the windswept
plains of battle.
You, there
in the rising smoke
and steam,
like a gleam
through a prism
your beam
shines through
demons,
tears that cut
like shards of glass
too many points
of light
for one person
normally to have.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Phrasology
I am well aware that my writing has a cyclical, repetitive nature. That I repeat certain phrases, terms and vocabulary over and over again, or by variation. When I was a younger writer, just starting out it bothered me when I did it. I(wrongly)thought it meant I couldn't think of anything new-or worse that I was copying myself. It was only later I came to understand how it fit into being an artist- if Turner could use the same blues in his skies, Tchaikovsky and Debussy could repeat phrases, then as the song says - "why oh why, can't I?"
I have come to a place in my life as an adult writer where I am less worried about the exact words than their color, or the feeling they evoke, the flow. Sometimes I nail them, other times I find them through tremendous fumbling. Most of the time I write-because I have to-in one large gallop from start to finish. I think it kind of precludes me writing a novel-I could never maintain one emotional arc or mechanical linear idea for too long. A script maybe if I had help. Lets just say you are unlikely to hear about the 'great' American novel I've been pounding away at all these years-poetry is a different story. Probably going to need help with any autobiography too. I'll have to talk it out. Hope those tapes never surface!
My stories come out as chaotic, fragmented overly emotional, often cerebral in nature. Sometimes its an overwhelming surrender to joy-my music reviews often have this quality-but get me on to personal subjects and things tip inwards and to darkness. I can't help it. The phasers have always been set to stun. I don't want to kill anyone but I want them to take an emotional response away.
I write because I often have to-and always have, but I'm not worried about the Booker prize or being on the list of great American writers. I'm neither when I think on it. I guess I would categorize myself as a world citizen with a European bent. Its like being able to breathe. words come out when you exhale but you can sing(with some training) while breathing IN. I think that is where my writing works for me-you take things in and blend them in a concoction all your own.
and hope you don't poison anyone, at least.
I have come to a place in my life as an adult writer where I am less worried about the exact words than their color, or the feeling they evoke, the flow. Sometimes I nail them, other times I find them through tremendous fumbling. Most of the time I write-because I have to-in one large gallop from start to finish. I think it kind of precludes me writing a novel-I could never maintain one emotional arc or mechanical linear idea for too long. A script maybe if I had help. Lets just say you are unlikely to hear about the 'great' American novel I've been pounding away at all these years-poetry is a different story. Probably going to need help with any autobiography too. I'll have to talk it out. Hope those tapes never surface!
My stories come out as chaotic, fragmented overly emotional, often cerebral in nature. Sometimes its an overwhelming surrender to joy-my music reviews often have this quality-but get me on to personal subjects and things tip inwards and to darkness. I can't help it. The phasers have always been set to stun. I don't want to kill anyone but I want them to take an emotional response away.
I write because I often have to-and always have, but I'm not worried about the Booker prize or being on the list of great American writers. I'm neither when I think on it. I guess I would categorize myself as a world citizen with a European bent. Its like being able to breathe. words come out when you exhale but you can sing(with some training) while breathing IN. I think that is where my writing works for me-you take things in and blend them in a concoction all your own.
and hope you don't poison anyone, at least.
Balled of Sexual Dependency (Modern Boredom)
perpetuate
your self loathing
hatred for the
one inside your
clothing.
another suck,
cheap fuck
12 bucks
and back
to where
you came
like last time
the same
the endless cycle
the dry
trickle of manhood
your sham
scamming your own
self worth.
no names or
nameless faces.
excluding certain races
he'll call you nigger
brag about your
cock being bigger
won't talk to you on
the street
but behind closed
doors longs to
eat your meat,
be the bag,
the holder,
meaningless
receptacle
reptile skin
unprotected skin
hedonist thinks
his lawlessness
protects him.
liar, swindler
filthy riches
of avarice
in practice
but the price
paid for moments
in paradise
not so nice
dwindling down
to some cheap
tchotchis for some
grandma in Philly
its silly
how you waste your time
your crime
is boredom
the whore
of Babylon
the sex goes on and on
the television
comforts you with
its song
but you're all alone
that's the truth of it
once the men have
gone.
your self loathing
hatred for the
one inside your
clothing.
another suck,
cheap fuck
12 bucks
and back
to where
you came
like last time
the same
the endless cycle
the dry
trickle of manhood
your sham
scamming your own
self worth.
no names or
nameless faces.
excluding certain races
he'll call you nigger
brag about your
cock being bigger
won't talk to you on
the street
but behind closed
doors longs to
eat your meat,
be the bag,
the holder,
meaningless
receptacle
reptile skin
unprotected skin
hedonist thinks
his lawlessness
protects him.
liar, swindler
filthy riches
of avarice
in practice
but the price
paid for moments
in paradise
not so nice
dwindling down
to some cheap
tchotchis for some
grandma in Philly
its silly
how you waste your time
your crime
is boredom
the whore
of Babylon
the sex goes on and on
the television
comforts you with
its song
but you're all alone
that's the truth of it
once the men have
gone.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Tidbits II
lets dance
on dazzle ships
attack ships
fly by night
suggesting travel
on a lunar eclipse,
solar landscapes
entranced.
on dazzle ships
attack ships
fly by night
suggesting travel
on a lunar eclipse,
solar landscapes
entranced.
My Little Problem
one look in
my eyes
abandoned in the soft
gold afternoon light
cruel clocks crackle
estranged by distance
like arabian horses
trampling and dancing
on the edge of deserts.
the strength of days
depleted the same
way as the moon.
A sudden flash
the strike of a match
and the fire starts
all over again
every time
I look in
your eyes.
my eyes
abandoned in the soft
gold afternoon light
cruel clocks crackle
estranged by distance
like arabian horses
trampling and dancing
on the edge of deserts.
the strength of days
depleted the same
way as the moon.
A sudden flash
the strike of a match
and the fire starts
all over again
every time
I look in
your eyes.
you own the welcome mat to my heart
to keep you safe
from all harm
from storms
from the pains
of childhood
remorse, guilt
lovelessness
and anger
madness is no stranger
and yet a kind
heart beats
but trouble weighs
heavy on
hard worn souls.
to keep you safe
from all pain
walk a thousand miles
to save one drop
of blood
to hold you close
to feel your warmth
keep a close watch
on your heart
from all harm
from storms
from the pains
of childhood
remorse, guilt
lovelessness
and anger
madness is no stranger
and yet a kind
heart beats
but trouble weighs
heavy on
hard worn souls.
to keep you safe
from all pain
walk a thousand miles
to save one drop
of blood
to hold you close
to feel your warmth
keep a close watch
on your heart
Monday, August 30, 2010
Unatural Beliefs
Only then
will we know
who we are
what we are
where we came from
and the order
in the stars.
We are imperfect
innumerable,
invaluable
entranced
by baubles
waylaid by
pain and the
weight of
our troubles.
for those
that dwell in
the movement
of the past
or of other
will never live
in the moment
of now
will never live
with the sighs
of nature's breathing
out and in
of the damage
inherent in life
the beauty
in a dying tree
acknowledging
the cycle
we all seem
to be
festooned with
leeches and liars
and thieves
who believe their laughter
will continue
after death
in the hereafter
but smothered
like evil
in the furrowing
brow of tomorrow.
will we know
who we are
what we are
where we came from
and the order
in the stars.
We are imperfect
innumerable,
invaluable
entranced
by baubles
waylaid by
pain and the
weight of
our troubles.
for those
that dwell in
the movement
of the past
or of other
will never live
in the moment
of now
will never live
with the sighs
of nature's breathing
out and in
of the damage
inherent in life
the beauty
in a dying tree
acknowledging
the cycle
we all seem
to be
festooned with
leeches and liars
and thieves
who believe their laughter
will continue
after death
in the hereafter
but smothered
like evil
in the furrowing
brow of tomorrow.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
In the Garden of Stars
walk amongst trees
fly in her breezes
molten metals
burn in her heart
while her head and feet
catch a freeze.
I am with you
in the garden
of electrical
signals
and I bring
forth riches
and diamonds
and sky.
And I am made up
of carbon
and flowers.
fallen leaves
and vivid
tiger's eye.
My hairs runs
through streams
where vines part
and impart
scenes of sun
drenched
tides,
moons,
dreams.
fly in her breezes
molten metals
burn in her heart
while her head and feet
catch a freeze.
I am with you
in the garden
of electrical
signals
and I bring
forth riches
and diamonds
and sky.
And I am made up
of carbon
and flowers.
fallen leaves
and vivid
tiger's eye.
My hairs runs
through streams
where vines part
and impart
scenes of sun
drenched
tides,
moons,
dreams.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
What Inspires Me - Other Artists
The Call of Death, 1934 - Käthe Kollwitz
The simplicity and the starkness of this powerful image(like much of Kollwitz's work) has always struck me as beautiful. Someone who knew the only way she could tell her story was by shaking hands with death-that decay is part of the exchange of life. When its over, that becomes the point in which all the pain, anguish and hatred we experience in life suddenly meets its end in a moment of grace-everything is lifted off of us and we are free. Isn't that worth capturing and remembering, even showing as beautiful? I think so.
The simplicity and the starkness of this powerful image(like much of Kollwitz's work) has always struck me as beautiful. Someone who knew the only way she could tell her story was by shaking hands with death-that decay is part of the exchange of life. When its over, that becomes the point in which all the pain, anguish and hatred we experience in life suddenly meets its end in a moment of grace-everything is lifted off of us and we are free. Isn't that worth capturing and remembering, even showing as beautiful? I think so.
My Raw CV(still missing several entries)
(This is an in-progress CV)
Academic
---------------
BFA - 2000 Academy of Art College / Industrial & Graphic Design Major
Solo Exhibitions
----------------
1994 Forests of Glass / 20 Color Cibachrome prints - Ardenwood Recreational Center
1996 Another Visit to the Forest / 8 "E" Size photostats
1998 Dive for Memory / World Cafe
1999 Excerpts from 1001 Dead Umbrellas / Digital Photographs
2006 Body / Art - Drawings
2007 Body / Art Redux - Drawings & Digital Photographs
2008 Re(boot) / Mini show - Stompers Boots (commercial shoe renderings)
2009 Fetish Alchemy / 30 Drawings - (body landscapes)
2010 TBA
Group Exhibitions
---------------
2002 Mixed Open Showing / Brainwash Cafe
2002 Figure Drawing Group 15th Anniversary / MIC Studios
2004 PODS / Space Gallery
2005 Holiday Show / MIC Studios
2007 Figure Drawing Group 20th Anniversary / MIC Studios
2007 Hot Men / MIC Studios
2008 Fetish Lexicons / MIC Studios
2010 TBA
Other Projects
----------------
1992 - 1995 Soul For Sale / Music & Poetry Journal
Editor/Publisher/Contributor (8 Issues)
1997 - 2007 Nostalgic Futurists / 10 singles, 11 albums, 6 eps and 1 compilation
Multi-instrumentalist, Audio Production, Website & Graphic Design
1997 Drumscapes & Guitarcades - single
1998 Arizona Skies (unreleased)
1998 Beautiful Death Chorus - single
1998 Negative Planet - single
1998 Black Songs - ep
1998 Imaginary Movies - ep
1999 Astral Dead - single
1999 Forgetment - ep
1999 Hailstorm / Fire - album (as starspring)
2000 Laughter & Silence - compilation
2001 Excepts from the Super Summer Sunshine sessions - ep (promo only)
2001 33/45/78 (alternative pocket symphonies & pop songs) - album
2002 Dipole Moment - album producer (w/ JD Lenzen)
2002 Psychedelisized - album
2002 Legendary Children - single
2002 Sketch For New Dawn - soundtrack album
2002 Duality - single
2002 Antiquarian - single
2003 Digitalis - ep
2003 Digitalis - album / + extra tracks
2003 Forest Code - single
2004 New City - single (unreleased)
2005 Cave Killers - soundtrack album (as starspring)
2005 Blood Rose / Real Devils - split double a-side single (w/ La Diabla Absol)
2005 Na:tur - album (single track soundtrack)
2006 Interprocess Communications - ep (w/ Sansome & Sloat)
2006 ElectriCity - album
2007 Memory Fragments in Two Halves - album (as starspring)
2007 Loops - single (digital mp3s only)
2008 Electrical Fires: workbooks, textures and other bizarre failures in music (1997-2007) - compilation
Awards
----------------
1990 Excellence in the Arts / Alameda County School District / Sole Awardee
Academic
---------------
BFA - 2000 Academy of Art College / Industrial & Graphic Design Major
Solo Exhibitions
----------------
1994 Forests of Glass / 20 Color Cibachrome prints - Ardenwood Recreational Center
1996 Another Visit to the Forest / 8 "E" Size photostats
1998 Dive for Memory / World Cafe
1999 Excerpts from 1001 Dead Umbrellas / Digital Photographs
2006 Body / Art - Drawings
2007 Body / Art Redux - Drawings & Digital Photographs
2008 Re(boot) / Mini show - Stompers Boots (commercial shoe renderings)
2009 Fetish Alchemy / 30 Drawings - (body landscapes)
2010 TBA
Group Exhibitions
---------------
2002 Mixed Open Showing / Brainwash Cafe
2002 Figure Drawing Group 15th Anniversary / MIC Studios
2004 PODS / Space Gallery
2005 Holiday Show / MIC Studios
2007 Figure Drawing Group 20th Anniversary / MIC Studios
2007 Hot Men / MIC Studios
2008 Fetish Lexicons / MIC Studios
2010 TBA
Other Projects
----------------
1992 - 1995 Soul For Sale / Music & Poetry Journal
Editor/Publisher/Contributor (8 Issues)
1997 - 2007 Nostalgic Futurists / 10 singles, 11 albums, 6 eps and 1 compilation
Multi-instrumentalist, Audio Production, Website & Graphic Design
1997 Drumscapes & Guitarcades - single
1998 Arizona Skies (unreleased)
1998 Beautiful Death Chorus - single
1998 Negative Planet - single
1998 Black Songs - ep
1998 Imaginary Movies - ep
1999 Astral Dead - single
1999 Forgetment - ep
1999 Hailstorm / Fire - album (as starspring)
2000 Laughter & Silence - compilation
2001 Excepts from the Super Summer Sunshine sessions - ep (promo only)
2001 33/45/78 (alternative pocket symphonies & pop songs) - album
2002 Dipole Moment - album producer (w/ JD Lenzen)
2002 Psychedelisized - album
2002 Legendary Children - single
2002 Sketch For New Dawn - soundtrack album
2002 Duality - single
2002 Antiquarian - single
2003 Digitalis - ep
2003 Digitalis - album / + extra tracks
2003 Forest Code - single
2004 New City - single (unreleased)
2005 Cave Killers - soundtrack album (as starspring)
2005 Blood Rose / Real Devils - split double a-side single (w/ La Diabla Absol)
2005 Na:tur - album (single track soundtrack)
2006 Interprocess Communications - ep (w/ Sansome & Sloat)
2006 ElectriCity - album
2007 Memory Fragments in Two Halves - album (as starspring)
2007 Loops - single (digital mp3s only)
2008 Electrical Fires: workbooks, textures and other bizarre failures in music (1997-2007) - compilation
Awards
----------------
1990 Excellence in the Arts / Alameda County School District / Sole Awardee
More Goals
Goal: To do more of EVERYTHING. More work. Have more Sex. make more Art. Make more money.
Swing my machete
through the jungles
of depression.
Winning is a choice. Being 'poor' is a state of mind.
Swing my machete
through the jungles
of depression.
Winning is a choice. Being 'poor' is a state of mind.
Essential Listens
John Cale / Fragments of A Rainy Season
Good for many reasons not the least of which is Cale himself. But this album is more-its Cale as virtuoso pianist, gifted interpreter, distinctive songwriter and charismatic performer. This is almost an overview of his whole career, including material from every studio album up to that point(1992) as well as his setting of three of Dylan Thomas' poems to music(and as far as I know, the first ever his estate has allowed published) plus old Chestnuts like Fear and Ship of Fools, plus his radically take on Elvis' Heartbreak Hotel which still sounds haunting. and of course his legendary arrangement of Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen.
People often mistakenly pin the principal talent in the Velvet Underground on Lou Reed but other than mentoring with the poet Delmore Schwartz and doing some songwriting for the Picwic record label in the mid 60s he didn't have that much going on outside his burgeoning drug habit and the lingering effects of shock therapy treatments. Cale on the other hand was already a child prodigy, had played with no less than Terry Reily, Tony Conrad, Lamont Young AND John Cage before he turned 21-WAY before he even met Reed. He's also acted as producer on some of the most influential albums ever(Patti Smith's Horses comes to mind but the list-Nico,The Ramones, Nick Drake, Brian Eno, et al is HUGE)and written songs with loads of others. a real artist and poet-someone who does it because there isn't anything else worth doing. inspiration.
Back the Same Day
all the husbands
and the sons
turned to heroes
boy soldiers
turn into men.
one day
before you die
you'll feel the weight
of a gun.
but is your soul ever
going to be
free?
that weight
its too much
when did it all
get so damn heavy?
even if we're different as
night and day
like baby to mother
from midnight
to high noon
over and over
one always follows
the other.
higher and higher
wider and wider
the sky opens
like a new flower
the first drop
of every rainstorm.
beauty to protect
from harm.
you never have
a chance
when its
sweet temptation,
but is your soul free?
you'll find the ripcord
someday you'll get release.
You've had a helluva time
lets put it out to dry
lets hang it on a line.
swing like two kids
pretending to spy.
teenage wasteland,
teenage kicks,
teenage dreams
are still mine.
and the sons
turned to heroes
boy soldiers
turn into men.
one day
before you die
you'll feel the weight
of a gun.
but is your soul ever
going to be
free?
that weight
its too much
when did it all
get so damn heavy?
even if we're different as
night and day
like baby to mother
from midnight
to high noon
over and over
one always follows
the other.
higher and higher
wider and wider
the sky opens
like a new flower
the first drop
of every rainstorm.
beauty to protect
from harm.
you never have
a chance
when its
sweet temptation,
but is your soul free?
you'll find the ripcord
someday you'll get release.
You've had a helluva time
lets put it out to dry
lets hang it on a line.
swing like two kids
pretending to spy.
teenage wasteland,
teenage kicks,
teenage dreams
are still mine.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Essential Listens
The Cocteau twins / Blue Bell Knoll
I'm starting a new writing series. I'm going to call it "essential listens" because I think that they are albums which nearly everyone can find interesting on some level. Er, and because I love them. ;)
You can get lost for days in the first track alone. There are a hundred thousand lifetimes in that song.
You can get lost for days in the first track alone. There are a hundred thousand lifetimes in that song.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Proof There is No God - Kirsty MacColl
Kirsty MacColl 1959 - 2000
God I miss her. If I could give a leg to bring her back I would. Even if all I ever got was her living out the rest of her life being happy, that would be enough. Her music has brought me so much happiness over the years it can't be measured. Sadly it would take a lot more than a leg to raise the dead, and I am not that gifted, or that powerful.
I first heard of her oddly enough singing back up for my favorite band ever, The Smiths. Her cracking vocals on Your Just Haven't Earned It Yet Baby are as passionate and yearning as anything I've heard sung, ever. Her voice was instantly recognizable, almost intimate and yet amazing sunny and effervescent.
I went backward, discovering her solo albums starting with "Kite" from 1989 and working my way forward. There's a lot of gold in them thar hills! For someone who's Father is considered one of the godfathers of folk(Ewan MacColl- the first ever I saw your face) she had an incredible pop sensibility and enough songwriting hooks to catch fish for the 5,000.
As is sometimes the case with immense talent that arrives before their time, Kirsty never had any huge hits although Comedian Tracy Ullman took her 1983 single "They Don't Know" to number two in 1986-including leaving Kirsty's backing vocals intact from the original and right up front like a duet in the chorus. Forever a fan herself Ullman said at the time "it would have been wrong to use myself-without Kirsty's voice the song is not the same. I love her and her voice." Although a few singles charted in the lower reaches of the British charts, she never hit it big in the US, though her husband Steve Lillywhite had massive success with his production for Simple Minds, the Smiths and of course U2-almost all of whom Kirsty did backing vocals.
After her divorce from Lillywhite and the relative failure of her 'divorce' album Titanic Days, she took time off. Raising her two children and generally writing songs on her own, but sometimes with others, she mostly kept a low profile for many years. So it was with much delight when she reappeared in 2000 with the album Tropical Brainstorm(her album titles were never without a little humor-even for an English girl). I began playing the album to death-to the point where my then partner Lee asked "could you PLEASE play something else?" It wasn't just a good album-it was her best. She was often quoted as saying "There's no reason to shove your face in the public presence if you don't have anything worthwhile to say."
I thought this album deserved to be heard by everyone and I made sure I mentioned it as often as possible. I rarely use an entire album to cheer myself up but this album is so determined to be sunny you can't can't help but feel the rays beaming out of the speakers. After her divorce, licking her wounds and looking for new directions, she visited Cuba for the first time. This was WAY Before the Buenavista Social Club and the influx of Cuban music that was cool in the late 1990's. Visiting several times over the years, she immersed herself in the culture, tasting the nightlife and recapturing her verve-including falling in love again with a somewhat younger man. They began writing songs. She wrote more with a few others, leading to the songs which became Tropical Brainstorm. The woman who wrote these songs sounds about as in love with life as you can imagine.
She was taking a quick last minute vacation to Cozumel, Mexico just prior to beginning a small tour in support of the album. She rarely toured and almost never in the US so the success of the first single "in these shoes" boded well. I was all set to finally get a chance to see her live and then...one Saturday morning in September...she was dead. In fact she had been killed while snorkeling with her two small children and her new lover, by a wealthy Mexican businessman driving a powerboat in an area reserved only for swimming. Kirsty died pushing her two children out of the way of the boats path, putting herself in their place. She was struck on the back of the head while her two children watched, narrowly missing being hit themselves. She was killed instantly. The driver of the boat didn't even stop. Because he was drunk. Kirsty's elderly mother has spent the intervening 10 years devoting herself to bringing the man to justice.
I knew how corrupt the Mexican judicial system was and was not surprised that they pinned the murder on some poor guy who the businessman claimed had been piloting the boat at the time of the accident. It wasn't true. One more reason to hate the rich? At this point I was just stunned hearing about it. She was only 41, in the prime of her life and in love again doing something she loved with the most important people in her life by her side. The wrongness of her death troubles me even now. I often find myself thinking of her and begin to cry. Taken at exactly the wrong time, just when everything was starting to go her way(Bette Midler even covered 'In These Shoes'-which was released as a single after Kirsty's death)and with SUCH a great album. Not a good album...a GREAT Album. And her best. She went out on top both as an artist but also a songwriter. You can tell she was the real deal, a one-off firing on all cylinders.
Everyone loved her-even in the notoriously backstabbing record industry-and she was the kind of woman you could call a 'broad' without her taking offense. She would have probably offered you a glass of red wine and drunk you under the table instead. Smart, sassy, gifted and a voice like a fiery red-headed angel with a personality to match. Even as talented as she was, with as many truly 'famous' people that she knew she always said her greatest achievement was her children. And in a way she made sure they would live, even if she might not.
Its been 10 years since her death. I play her music all the time-nearly everything holds up-even the 80's material. But its always bittersweet-and I find myself thinking of the what if's. What if she had lived? What would she be doing-would those concerts I never got to see her perform in have been the best? I'll never know. I just keep playing her records and doing what I can to share her truly vibrant spirit with the rest of the world. She taught me to laugh when it hurts and cry because it feels so wonderful to be alive.
I miss you Kirsty. Have a Margarita and a record player waiting when I get there, would you?
Love Steve
God I miss her. If I could give a leg to bring her back I would. Even if all I ever got was her living out the rest of her life being happy, that would be enough. Her music has brought me so much happiness over the years it can't be measured. Sadly it would take a lot more than a leg to raise the dead, and I am not that gifted, or that powerful.
I first heard of her oddly enough singing back up for my favorite band ever, The Smiths. Her cracking vocals on Your Just Haven't Earned It Yet Baby are as passionate and yearning as anything I've heard sung, ever. Her voice was instantly recognizable, almost intimate and yet amazing sunny and effervescent.
I went backward, discovering her solo albums starting with "Kite" from 1989 and working my way forward. There's a lot of gold in them thar hills! For someone who's Father is considered one of the godfathers of folk(Ewan MacColl- the first ever I saw your face) she had an incredible pop sensibility and enough songwriting hooks to catch fish for the 5,000.
As is sometimes the case with immense talent that arrives before their time, Kirsty never had any huge hits although Comedian Tracy Ullman took her 1983 single "They Don't Know" to number two in 1986-including leaving Kirsty's backing vocals intact from the original and right up front like a duet in the chorus. Forever a fan herself Ullman said at the time "it would have been wrong to use myself-without Kirsty's voice the song is not the same. I love her and her voice." Although a few singles charted in the lower reaches of the British charts, she never hit it big in the US, though her husband Steve Lillywhite had massive success with his production for Simple Minds, the Smiths and of course U2-almost all of whom Kirsty did backing vocals.
After her divorce from Lillywhite and the relative failure of her 'divorce' album Titanic Days, she took time off. Raising her two children and generally writing songs on her own, but sometimes with others, she mostly kept a low profile for many years. So it was with much delight when she reappeared in 2000 with the album Tropical Brainstorm(her album titles were never without a little humor-even for an English girl). I began playing the album to death-to the point where my then partner Lee asked "could you PLEASE play something else?" It wasn't just a good album-it was her best. She was often quoted as saying "There's no reason to shove your face in the public presence if you don't have anything worthwhile to say."
I thought this album deserved to be heard by everyone and I made sure I mentioned it as often as possible. I rarely use an entire album to cheer myself up but this album is so determined to be sunny you can't can't help but feel the rays beaming out of the speakers. After her divorce, licking her wounds and looking for new directions, she visited Cuba for the first time. This was WAY Before the Buenavista Social Club and the influx of Cuban music that was cool in the late 1990's. Visiting several times over the years, she immersed herself in the culture, tasting the nightlife and recapturing her verve-including falling in love again with a somewhat younger man. They began writing songs. She wrote more with a few others, leading to the songs which became Tropical Brainstorm. The woman who wrote these songs sounds about as in love with life as you can imagine.
She was taking a quick last minute vacation to Cozumel, Mexico just prior to beginning a small tour in support of the album. She rarely toured and almost never in the US so the success of the first single "in these shoes" boded well. I was all set to finally get a chance to see her live and then...one Saturday morning in September...she was dead. In fact she had been killed while snorkeling with her two small children and her new lover, by a wealthy Mexican businessman driving a powerboat in an area reserved only for swimming. Kirsty died pushing her two children out of the way of the boats path, putting herself in their place. She was struck on the back of the head while her two children watched, narrowly missing being hit themselves. She was killed instantly. The driver of the boat didn't even stop. Because he was drunk. Kirsty's elderly mother has spent the intervening 10 years devoting herself to bringing the man to justice.
I knew how corrupt the Mexican judicial system was and was not surprised that they pinned the murder on some poor guy who the businessman claimed had been piloting the boat at the time of the accident. It wasn't true. One more reason to hate the rich? At this point I was just stunned hearing about it. She was only 41, in the prime of her life and in love again doing something she loved with the most important people in her life by her side. The wrongness of her death troubles me even now. I often find myself thinking of her and begin to cry. Taken at exactly the wrong time, just when everything was starting to go her way(Bette Midler even covered 'In These Shoes'-which was released as a single after Kirsty's death)and with SUCH a great album. Not a good album...a GREAT Album. And her best. She went out on top both as an artist but also a songwriter. You can tell she was the real deal, a one-off firing on all cylinders.
Everyone loved her-even in the notoriously backstabbing record industry-and she was the kind of woman you could call a 'broad' without her taking offense. She would have probably offered you a glass of red wine and drunk you under the table instead. Smart, sassy, gifted and a voice like a fiery red-headed angel with a personality to match. Even as talented as she was, with as many truly 'famous' people that she knew she always said her greatest achievement was her children. And in a way she made sure they would live, even if she might not.
Its been 10 years since her death. I play her music all the time-nearly everything holds up-even the 80's material. But its always bittersweet-and I find myself thinking of the what if's. What if she had lived? What would she be doing-would those concerts I never got to see her perform in have been the best? I'll never know. I just keep playing her records and doing what I can to share her truly vibrant spirit with the rest of the world. She taught me to laugh when it hurts and cry because it feels so wonderful to be alive.
I miss you Kirsty. Have a Margarita and a record player waiting when I get there, would you?
Love Steve
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
And for the record
FUCK Meg Whittman for ANYTHING. She thinks she can run this state like she ran Ebay - like a corporation. Well, some news dear...when you're in charge of the show and its your word uber alles that might work.
But...
This is California. People here don't like being told what to do-or watching some multibillionaire tell them how their money should be spent. Like the sticker on the fence of the newspaper machine said "God bless the Obscenely wealthy." and that's about it. We don't want you because you can make money-it takes MORE than that. I think you are VASTLY underestimating what kind of a thrill ride you are in for.
But...
This is California. People here don't like being told what to do-or watching some multibillionaire tell them how their money should be spent. Like the sticker on the fence of the newspaper machine said "God bless the Obscenely wealthy." and that's about it. We don't want you because you can make money-it takes MORE than that. I think you are VASTLY underestimating what kind of a thrill ride you are in for.
Its a Little Come Hither
But who else is looking back?
Back to a goatee - we'll see how long this one lasts.
Back to a goatee - we'll see how long this one lasts.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Utter Exhaustion (whose to say we live in the moment)
not here....the other place.
Just weary I guess
I'd like to stop
sit awhile
and rest.
Been siphoning off
slow poison and
understood
its the top.
Laughing, transient
dreaming of
tangents and
the rent.
They all said cuckoo
but I still
fell for it
and for you.
utter exhaustion
no explanation
frustrated by
the question.
No brow to anoint
so how in orbit
late for my
disappointment.
Just weary I guess
I'd like to stop
sit awhile
and rest.
Been siphoning off
slow poison and
understood
its the top.
Laughing, transient
dreaming of
tangents and
the rent.
They all said cuckoo
but I still
fell for it
and for you.
utter exhaustion
no explanation
frustrated by
the question.
No brow to anoint
so how in orbit
late for my
disappointment.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
New Goals / Sept - End of Year
Solid Goals
1. Solid employment
2. Get the hell out of this overpriced shit hole
3. New Blog/Website - As a place holder until real website is finished
4. Artist Representation -
5. Get back to making art like my life depended on it
--------------------
Well, I'm off to a great start. I already got #3 checked off and I feel the wheels of(industry)starting to grind forward underneath me. Its strategy time.
1. Solid employment
2. Get the hell out of this overpriced shit hole
3. New Blog/Website - As a place holder until real website is finished
4. Artist Representation -
5. Get back to making art like my life depended on it
--------------------
Well, I'm off to a great start. I already got #3 checked off and I feel the wheels of(industry)starting to grind forward underneath me. Its strategy time.
Schizoid Plan gets Out of Hands
farewell
better be well,
when did my hand
kill the man
on judgment day?
did things get out of control?
trying to
express your soul,
unleashed feelings
like chopped off feelers
that no longer transmit
collar too tight
clothes too unfashionable
to fit.
Better ever, lopped off head
playing cards
flattened by insurrection
thinking too hard
stuck in the mud.
different names for people
who are all the same
different names for me
to keep track of the pain.
separation, inspiration
want to have one strong line
not nets and webs
that snake on
throughout the future
multiple, multitudes,
etudes, groovy tunes
where did my hands
get the idea to punish,
to move in space?
crushed feelers
not transmitting
curl up like ants
in the blaze of the
white light pinpointed fire
when put under
such solar scrutiny
its all for one
its all for nothing
its microscopic mutiny
where does myself bend
in the wind
like reeds
thrown like seeds
into the fields
of constellations
(underneath crawl
the scorpions
of unfettered desire)
Better I beat them
Well, I beat the drum
like the last lingering rhythm
in the afternoon sun.
better be well,
when did my hand
kill the man
on judgment day?
did things get out of control?
trying to
express your soul,
unleashed feelings
like chopped off feelers
that no longer transmit
collar too tight
clothes too unfashionable
to fit.
Better ever, lopped off head
playing cards
flattened by insurrection
thinking too hard
stuck in the mud.
different names for people
who are all the same
different names for me
to keep track of the pain.
separation, inspiration
want to have one strong line
not nets and webs
that snake on
throughout the future
multiple, multitudes,
etudes, groovy tunes
where did my hands
get the idea to punish,
to move in space?
crushed feelers
not transmitting
curl up like ants
in the blaze of the
white light pinpointed fire
when put under
such solar scrutiny
its all for one
its all for nothing
its microscopic mutiny
where does myself bend
in the wind
like reeds
thrown like seeds
into the fields
of constellations
(underneath crawl
the scorpions
of unfettered desire)
Better I beat them
Well, I beat the drum
like the last lingering rhythm
in the afternoon sun.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Make It In The Straight World
People often ask "what does it look like when you don't draw nudes?"
Now you know.
Title: "You Wait Until Your Time Comes 'Round Again"
Approx. 14" x 24" Color Pencil on 50% gray 80Lbs. cold-press stock
Now you know.
Title: "You Wait Until Your Time Comes 'Round Again"
Approx. 14" x 24" Color Pencil on 50% gray 80Lbs. cold-press stock
Chafing Against the Bones of Eternity
The real way to fight demons is to be a conjurer yourself. To pull something from thin air, see something no one has ever seen or see it in a way no one else can, make tangible the intangible. like a warning for evil spirits(the real ones) that you aren't going down without a fight.
The Healer in the Hope & Anchor (Mad Jack)
listen...
one two three four
on the surface
he seems sensible
but deep inside
the reasoning
is fading.
like a wall
that weakens
under the strength
of many seasons.
you can see the
lies
of the other side
for every passing
day is it any wonder
that I never close my eyes
thinking about you.
I rear up in
my madness
like snorting horses
revealing naked
foals on the
uneven ground.
Is it any wonder
I am always
thinking of you.
no matter where you
are
I can trace you by the stars
tonight
The moon is out(surrender to the tears)
The moon is out(there goes the light)
The moon is out(the shadows will come to swallow us soon)
The moon is out(not the only one counting clocks)
Is it any explanation
to say I've lost my mind?
No idea where to find
it; gone someplace
I can't get.
Is it any wonder
I never seem to close my eyes?
Is it?
Is it?
Waiting for the spirits
to come and steal the
thunder,
blunder into some
different state of
mind, all the laces
will finally
be undone.
all the traces will be
wiped away
by the sun
one two three four
on the surface
he seems sensible
but deep inside
the reasoning
is fading.
like a wall
that weakens
under the strength
of many seasons.
you can see the
lies
of the other side
for every passing
day is it any wonder
that I never close my eyes
thinking about you.
I rear up in
my madness
like snorting horses
revealing naked
foals on the
uneven ground.
Is it any wonder
I am always
thinking of you.
no matter where you
are
I can trace you by the stars
tonight
The moon is out(surrender to the tears)
The moon is out(there goes the light)
The moon is out(the shadows will come to swallow us soon)
The moon is out(not the only one counting clocks)
Is it any explanation
to say I've lost my mind?
No idea where to find
it; gone someplace
I can't get.
Is it any wonder
I never seem to close my eyes?
Is it?
Is it?
Waiting for the spirits
to come and steal the
thunder,
blunder into some
different state of
mind, all the laces
will finally
be undone.
all the traces will be
wiped away
by the sun
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
I'm Digging your scene - The Blow Monkeys
Doctor Robert...nothing has changed.
In 1986 I was 14 years old and this track was a hit on the radio, on MTV and elsewhere. It was one of the first songs to be very specifically about the AIDS crisis (they put your in a hole to fill in/but I prefer you to be seen). I should have been dancing and discovering the joys of being a teenager. Instead I was learning that being gay meant I was going to die of AIDS and all around me people I loved or knew of were already becoming sick or had actually died. People driving by in trucks screamed "Fag!!" at me on the way to school. Could they tell I was gay-that in my heart I fell in love with men? What was so wrong with me that they couldn't see the love in my heart? That I was just like them?
I am 38 this year. That was almost 25 years ago now. Sometimes it feels like the world is still so full of hatred I don't know how I even go on, and is the world even worth saving anymore? I don't know what the hell I am doing sometimes...its like treading water but dying of thirst.
Brain please go to sleep - stop the world, I want to get off.
In 1986 I was 14 years old and this track was a hit on the radio, on MTV and elsewhere. It was one of the first songs to be very specifically about the AIDS crisis (they put your in a hole to fill in/but I prefer you to be seen). I should have been dancing and discovering the joys of being a teenager. Instead I was learning that being gay meant I was going to die of AIDS and all around me people I loved or knew of were already becoming sick or had actually died. People driving by in trucks screamed "Fag!!" at me on the way to school. Could they tell I was gay-that in my heart I fell in love with men? What was so wrong with me that they couldn't see the love in my heart? That I was just like them?
I am 38 this year. That was almost 25 years ago now. Sometimes it feels like the world is still so full of hatred I don't know how I even go on, and is the world even worth saving anymore? I don't know what the hell I am doing sometimes...its like treading water but dying of thirst.
Brain please go to sleep - stop the world, I want to get off.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Thoughts on a Lizard
There were two lizards once.
They didn't have names.
Just lizards really,
not big ones.
Just simple
alligator lizards.
Part of the ecosystem.
Eating bugs.
moss, other smaller lifeforms.
Everyday they were there.
I would find them.
Everyday.
Some days sunning themselves.
ravishing in the
scorching sun.
Other times
hiding in dead
christmas trees,
hidden as if
branches.
sleeping,
for the fog
must be lifting
I saw them.
Many places
adjacent to
where I was working.
thinking.
smoking.
breaking from
the tyranny
of lifting 50lbs
bags of cement
no place to vent,
no one to hear
my desperate cry.
anguished, trying
to figure out
what was wrong with me.
why couldn't I be
purposeful in my
existence?
Why was I left
hobbled by doubt
and here
where two lizards
bathed, eating
mud and bugs
achieving a level of
perfecting I
could never know.
I fed them.
Gave them crushed bugs
to eat.
playing my
own part
in the bigger scheme
of things.
I admired their
persistence.
existence
on a much simpler
plane-freed from the
notion of nothingness
of emotional turmoil.
not embroiled by
tribulation.
Beautiful, eternal
perpetual and
timeless.
I figured the lesson was there before me if I wanted to learn something. I still think about the level of calm these two lizards(obviously a pair-a male and female-their skulls are very different in width from male to female)exhibited while I either held them or moved them repeatedly. I often acted in their own best interest over my own while cleaning a rather large yard side area full of debris, including making sure that no cement dust was left on the soil-which can burn their skin and making sure I checked each large piece of trash or dead wood as I scrapped it-so that they didn't get 'bagged' or crushed in the removal process. This caused a few stirs with Mark but I don't care. The animals were more important to me. They lived with truth and I felt deserved the right to live. The chance to let nature take its course, not be wiped out by one man's carelessness. IN my mind there is no greater life form. all living things have a value and a worth. Even though I eat meat and consume my fair share of resources as a human being-I like to think that I do my best to co-exist with nature and my place in the food chain and to show other living things I come into contact with respect-even when I might be eating them.
I referred to them as Jack and Jill because they were always on the hill together.
And yeah, this IS that lizard.
Look at that Stare!! Like he wants to kill your whole family and THEN burn the house down. Notice to the mice-you WILL be eaten!!
This is the female.
even though she was smaller she was still a good 11 inches in length. he was almost 12". There is probably a crude dick joke in there but I'll let it go for now. ;)
They didn't have names.
Just lizards really,
not big ones.
Just simple
alligator lizards.
Part of the ecosystem.
Eating bugs.
moss, other smaller lifeforms.
Everyday they were there.
I would find them.
Everyday.
Some days sunning themselves.
ravishing in the
scorching sun.
Other times
hiding in dead
christmas trees,
hidden as if
branches.
sleeping,
for the fog
must be lifting
I saw them.
Many places
adjacent to
where I was working.
thinking.
smoking.
breaking from
the tyranny
of lifting 50lbs
bags of cement
no place to vent,
no one to hear
my desperate cry.
anguished, trying
to figure out
what was wrong with me.
why couldn't I be
purposeful in my
existence?
Why was I left
hobbled by doubt
and here
where two lizards
bathed, eating
mud and bugs
achieving a level of
perfecting I
could never know.
I fed them.
Gave them crushed bugs
to eat.
playing my
own part
in the bigger scheme
of things.
I admired their
persistence.
existence
on a much simpler
plane-freed from the
notion of nothingness
of emotional turmoil.
not embroiled by
tribulation.
Beautiful, eternal
perpetual and
timeless.
I figured the lesson was there before me if I wanted to learn something. I still think about the level of calm these two lizards(obviously a pair-a male and female-their skulls are very different in width from male to female)exhibited while I either held them or moved them repeatedly. I often acted in their own best interest over my own while cleaning a rather large yard side area full of debris, including making sure that no cement dust was left on the soil-which can burn their skin and making sure I checked each large piece of trash or dead wood as I scrapped it-so that they didn't get 'bagged' or crushed in the removal process. This caused a few stirs with Mark but I don't care. The animals were more important to me. They lived with truth and I felt deserved the right to live. The chance to let nature take its course, not be wiped out by one man's carelessness. IN my mind there is no greater life form. all living things have a value and a worth. Even though I eat meat and consume my fair share of resources as a human being-I like to think that I do my best to co-exist with nature and my place in the food chain and to show other living things I come into contact with respect-even when I might be eating them.
I referred to them as Jack and Jill because they were always on the hill together.
And yeah, this IS that lizard.
Look at that Stare!! Like he wants to kill your whole family and THEN burn the house down. Notice to the mice-you WILL be eaten!!
This is the female.
even though she was smaller she was still a good 11 inches in length. he was almost 12". There is probably a crude dick joke in there but I'll let it go for now. ;)
Sunday, August 15, 2010
The Cuteness!!
After nearly 14 years these two still spend time with one another, grooming, playing and romping(though less romping for Tweed lately)and as always they are so photogenic its just WRONG!! And this pictures says a lot about the two of them. Tweed looks rueful and suspicious while Josquin is like "Hey! Look!! A CAMERA!!"
Love them to pieces...they help keep me together.
Love them to pieces...they help keep me together.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
The Time is 15:00 GMT / the price of America
this program is coming to
you direct from the voice
of america
its hysterical
do I even care
he sitting in that chair
I laugh at him
his blank stare.
the gate
the hating
frustrating
experience
I was
I was euphoria
I felt victorious
I felt the vapor
asphyxiate us.
burnt to a crisp
tossed like
fuel into
the belly
of the phoenix
what came between us?
It felt beneath me.
and I was guilty?
and I was petty?
let all your devils
come and try to get me.
I blow out your candle.
I laugh at your haste.
one day you'll taste
the knowledge you can't handle.
attacked by vandals
your heart is black coal
blocked forest hideaway
you said we'd find a way
but I was lead astray
I thought we'd fly across
oceans and drink in
the spray.
instead you walked away
while we were in a trench.
I had a hunch
when it came
time to crunch
I'd be left high and dry
like an abandoned boat.
no chance for redemption
only worried
when you can't float.
(yeah, fuck it. I found the right guy to build a raft out of hell with already thankyouverymuch you evil bastard-and its NOT you. (waves at Bob ;)- (pushes cluttered block of ice out towards the sea)(goes back to making art)(this program is coming to you from the United Stated of America - this is radio america - this radio calling - this is radio chaos - are you calling? - are you stalling? - I am falling in love with this handsome creature - we're both teachers - standing ovation - radio programming coming to you love from aboard.....live...live.....what a world it is...
you direct from the voice
of america
its hysterical
do I even care
he sitting in that chair
I laugh at him
his blank stare.
the gate
the hating
frustrating
experience
I was
I was euphoria
I felt victorious
I felt the vapor
asphyxiate us.
burnt to a crisp
tossed like
fuel into
the belly
of the phoenix
what came between us?
It felt beneath me.
and I was guilty?
and I was petty?
let all your devils
come and try to get me.
I blow out your candle.
I laugh at your haste.
one day you'll taste
the knowledge you can't handle.
attacked by vandals
your heart is black coal
blocked forest hideaway
you said we'd find a way
but I was lead astray
I thought we'd fly across
oceans and drink in
the spray.
instead you walked away
while we were in a trench.
I had a hunch
when it came
time to crunch
I'd be left high and dry
like an abandoned boat.
no chance for redemption
only worried
when you can't float.
(yeah, fuck it. I found the right guy to build a raft out of hell with already thankyouverymuch you evil bastard-and its NOT you. (waves at Bob ;)- (pushes cluttered block of ice out towards the sea)(goes back to making art)(this program is coming to you from the United Stated of America - this is radio america - this radio calling - this is radio chaos - are you calling? - are you stalling? - I am falling in love with this handsome creature - we're both teachers - standing ovation - radio programming coming to you love from aboard.....live...live.....what a world it is...
2 Compositions in Black and Grey / My 200th Blog Entry!!!
First off...Holy Cow! 200 Entries?! Its like I'm a writer or something. like, for real you know? grown up style!! Whoooo Whoo!!!
Okay, now that I have furiously poked a hole in my own self importance...on with the Art!!!
01. Spectral Underwater Apparition (Parallax Aggregate)
04. Elusive Dream Pianos (repetition for Steve Reich)
Not too bad for 4am on a hotel bathroom floor. Even tired and wacked on drugs I make art. I Win.
Okay, now that I have furiously poked a hole in my own self importance...on with the Art!!!
01. Spectral Underwater Apparition (Parallax Aggregate)
04. Elusive Dream Pianos (repetition for Steve Reich)
Not too bad for 4am on a hotel bathroom floor. Even tired and wacked on drugs I make art. I Win.
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