Good for the rain drops....

Good for the rain drops
The way we fall
Sadness in the unnatural
Good for the rain drops

Tonight  the
Let down the guards of
Perception lily
Disguise the grass
The Dirt
Never knowing the fall
Or the cool
Of the water

SKIN LIKE SAFFRON

with skin like saffron
dejected walk through walls
ghosts

amber wisps flit by
never leaving
thoughts behind

I AM THE SICK AND THE WEAK

hiding in my room
listening to the rain slap the windows
how dare how dare
condemn what I love the most
how I care how I care not

my eyes slip lower as if
my body wants them to stop
tears pool but can't fall
the glass bleeds with rain

how can clouds be bright as ignorance
the wind slapping again
swirling opacity and i don't know
who's eye i'm looking in

how dare how dare
when I am the sick and the weak
how I care how I care not because
I am the sick and the weak

SWIMMING THRU THE AVALANCHE

to get to the top or
to breathe
bury deep thoughts of escape
the boulders too large
pressing on the chest

i've heard a mountain then
i heard not a sound but
colors then
shades of black and white

why are clouds so bright

THE BODY AND THE MIND

subscribe to your body
feel the corporeal reality
salt to the mind
flavor of living

think twice
         no
three times
think so far as to the flesh falls away
the meaning remains
        yes
the meaning relishes in
the simplicity of feeling

look inward
experience in time

I want to give credit where credit is do.  It ain't happening.  I'm a hack.  But I'm a better hack then most.

drops like
little beetles green and unknowing that
it don't matter

crushed like butterflies
this is your rain water
find a way around it

poisonous to
get clear impossible
stops of the locks
along a major river

could we be that mundane?
control everything
done and done
the water
done

ONCE AGAIN TO THROW IT ALL AWAY...

 Relativity is real.  In the same vein that time dilation is. 

 What little I live for, passes so quickly now. 

 But the things that kill me linger.  I've waited years and years to be destroyed by myself.

  As if the knife that I felt pushing between my ribs I slowed so that I could feel it for a moment longer.  In a sense I hindered it's advance but at the same time I didn't repel it to the point of survival.

  I flirt.  I'm due.

  It all comes to an impasse and the cosmos doesn't have time for jokers. 

  In reality that's all it has.

  Smile and nod.

Hard to keep the fire lit...

....Inside my brain I have this constant problem with sadness and self-deprecation. ...To keep the fire within lit, to keep creativity and desire a driving force I'm going to try again with this foolish blog, boring even myself in the process. ...But the feel of the keys moving forward have their own kind of salvation, a movement towards acting, something I've done little of for months now. I've forgotten how actually to spell many words, even their uses allude more than before. As with the softness of my bulbous stomach, I'm disintegrating into apathy of mind, body and spirit. ...to keep the fire lit... anything

Milk...

Apparently milk is made mostly of a slow-acting protein type called cassein.

When I was a child I was forced to drink a glass of milk every single night before going to sleep. Now when I drink milk late at night, sleep eludes me.

These days I drink vitamin D milk. Growing up it was lowfat (2%). In college it was nonfat. Once in a blue cow moon it's soy.

Today I didn't put any milk in my espresso. It's actually quite nice.

The Wooden White Skeleton

Today it faces me. Today it's ridged ribs, chalk white frame, bulbous skull, today the skeleton faces me. Usually it peers outward, out the window towards busy Stark St. and I can only catch its eye in the reflection of the glass. Today it's as though it signals to me, one arm frozen in upright salute or condemnation. I think the former. But now that I've noticed I can't ignore it.

The coffee sits in my throat...

I have these two couches.

One is a cool faux leather with a big back and a decent love-seat with plush armrests. Earlier today I sat and watched a man across the street drill into a 4 x 4, constructing.

My other couch dominates my room. At one time it was L-shaped. I know because it has that slant-back end where it would turn the corner and connect with the other piece. Somehow, even though it doesn't have it's missing piece, I still have all of its pillows. So many that they are stacked double high, creeping up my wall like a tan, billowy fungus.

As I sat on my couches today I felt alone. So much room to sit.

I feel like de/construction surrounds me...

There's a steamroller in the parking lot of my apartment complex. The coffee shop is roasting with a general shaking and tumble of din. Even Halfway House across the street blasted engine noise throughout the neighborhood with their gas lawn mower from some by-gone era. Is it my ears that are sensitive today or something deeper inside me?

Hippie Zombie Jesus riding a surfboard with a rose in his mouth...

yeah, that's what's on my shirt. Along with Gomez from the Addams' family post-fame holding torches outright while he bellows out a visceral howl, cruising along on their tandem surf board, light blue ripples of water below them.

Dang notha double...

Increase shows the growth of fullness without artifices... Increase meaning another double. I thought I had finished the overworking. Thought it would give me a chance to clean up my mind and body, get the spirit back in line. Now I realize that I have to work at that too. Double today, no double tomorrow - but still work.

A small lake over an abyss...

Is it ennui this morning? I'm not so sure. My mind won't allow sleep but it also won't allow a happiness. Similar actually to the day outside, with its moments of mild sunshine that slip back into gray moments after they've arrived.
No matter.

For Jobs No Money....

Small keys to everyday existence like a fat nickel or thin dime
Hide quarters in exchange for peace and strife of mind
Peace this peace that
Every time someone wants a piece I have to grab my piece
3000 Andres and not a drop to drink
Between here and reality you fill the blank
Is it your hands or others that hand you your thanks
Be to all mind matters that matter - mine
I and I with eyes of planets in pairs and duos
hearts with near eclipses and collisions
Monica

To apologize...

I'm clinging, clinging as in a fish in a net, or an animal trapped in a hole, to the gnarled roots and strings that bind me. Fire burns brightest when it first flares up. I apologize and in doing so admitted guilt. The second fire blew into my face. Work is less about my profession and more about my ego.

Success In Encounters...

Hexagram 47 - K'un - Exhaustion/Oppression

The love of my life has spurned me once again. Of an age where I no longer can joke about my intentions, I realize that I can't fight it, and I respond with a white flag that hopefully wasn't too negative. I thought of defiance - in multiple ways. No, fuck no, I'm not going to let you go. Then, Oh, why? It hurts so much! But no, the classic, because I love her I have to let her go scenario. Lame how cliche life is.

La Cocaina...

Went to Grain and Gristle with my friends on Saturday night before a little hop skip and a jump down to Mississippi studios to see Tennis. The beautiful and bored were out in droves and I found myself dancing alone to "Marathon" and hooting into the void after songs while the disinterested checked each other out. There was a moment of bliss followed by a long walk home.

To Change A Life...

Dreaming of shattered wooden planks
but glide glide glide
there's a softness today in the air
with the mist of winter and the early week