I always saw myself
as more abyss than void.
A sort of dim abyss,
with shifting colors of glow
through the overall dark, made
by drifting party lanterns. Not one
of those nasty-ass abysses
you're not supposed to
look into. Hey
look into me
any time you like!
I'll look back like
'sup.
This abyss gazes
also, lazes
in a hazy drift,
catch me grooving
on my inner party
lanterns like a further
-mucking ABYSS,
.
Saturday, February 29, 2020
fishing for visitors
Fish and visitors
both smell in 3 days
they say, but
Here's the thing: they have
different smells. And you
can tell, just
Lean in,
let your natural
breath, your process
of inspiration take
a whiff - nothing obvious!
Just as you breathe
as you normally do,
just paying attention
to the air we share
so close
and coming in -
The difference is
subtle, maybe
but distinct.
Oh,
certain visitors
in certain places may
be slightly confused
for fish
By this test,
but
'nuff said, please.
It's way overstated
that angle, and frankly
I find the whole thing
hugely lacking
in offense. The other
thing is: Folks. Come on.
The saying's pre-modern,
in terms of hygiene taboo
and ritual. It dates from days
when people bum-rushed the tub
annually at best, in a long
family process of progressively
dirtier water, and the soap
was not tops, either. In those
days the visitor shows up washed
- if at all - by whatever rain
they picked up on the journey
in the open air, and perfumed
by the fact you probably smelled
as bad yourself, and had definitely
smelled worse.
It's a new day for cleanliness,
practically to a maniac level
if those ruddy and benighted
ladies, knights and rustics
could catch wind of how we
keep ourselves! Very well,
thank you very much.
Your visitors today
And for the last couple days,
apparently, will probably shower
and bathe their way as they go!
So they may well smell
as fresh as days go by
as they did walking in
the door. That same method
now - for the fish? Baby don't even try.
Disastrous. Soap gets
all into the flaky filet
of that beautiful tender flesh
blown apart by blasting water
- by the time you've toweled it off,
all you've got is a super-funky towel
with cakes of fish flesh residue
toppling off it in chunks
gross.
The visitors, though - hey!
Take a sniff now and then!
Just to check, if it's a concern but
they probably see to it themselves
- while you sleep, perchance. You dream
they're in there with their clothes off,
scrubbing and a-sudsing and a-rinsing
and a-buffing. They've heard the saying
too, you know.
They might not realize
the smells involved are quite decidedly
different, but
They don't want to take chances
Stink up your hospitable home like
some disreputable fishhouse!
The air all through permeated
by a slovenly, all-too-seaworthy
b.o.
People get these sayings
so wrong, some times
it'd be funny
if I didn't hate them so much
and wish they'd leave. Tonight's dinner?
Fish again
hint hint hint
both smell in 3 days
they say, but
Here's the thing: they have
different smells. And you
can tell, just
Lean in,
let your natural
breath, your process
of inspiration take
a whiff - nothing obvious!
Just as you breathe
as you normally do,
just paying attention
to the air we share
so close
and coming in -
The difference is
subtle, maybe
but distinct.
Oh,
certain visitors
in certain places may
be slightly confused
for fish
By this test,
but
'nuff said, please.
It's way overstated
that angle, and frankly
I find the whole thing
hugely lacking
in offense. The other
thing is: Folks. Come on.
The saying's pre-modern,
in terms of hygiene taboo
and ritual. It dates from days
when people bum-rushed the tub
annually at best, in a long
family process of progressively
dirtier water, and the soap
was not tops, either. In those
days the visitor shows up washed
- if at all - by whatever rain
they picked up on the journey
in the open air, and perfumed
by the fact you probably smelled
as bad yourself, and had definitely
smelled worse.
It's a new day for cleanliness,
practically to a maniac level
if those ruddy and benighted
ladies, knights and rustics
could catch wind of how we
keep ourselves! Very well,
thank you very much.
Your visitors today
And for the last couple days,
apparently, will probably shower
and bathe their way as they go!
So they may well smell
as fresh as days go by
as they did walking in
the door. That same method
now - for the fish? Baby don't even try.
Disastrous. Soap gets
all into the flaky filet
of that beautiful tender flesh
blown apart by blasting water
- by the time you've toweled it off,
all you've got is a super-funky towel
with cakes of fish flesh residue
toppling off it in chunks
gross.
The visitors, though - hey!
Take a sniff now and then!
Just to check, if it's a concern but
they probably see to it themselves
- while you sleep, perchance. You dream
they're in there with their clothes off,
scrubbing and a-sudsing and a-rinsing
and a-buffing. They've heard the saying
too, you know.
They might not realize
the smells involved are quite decidedly
different, but
They don't want to take chances
Stink up your hospitable home like
some disreputable fishhouse!
The air all through permeated
by a slovenly, all-too-seaworthy
b.o.
People get these sayings
so wrong, some times
it'd be funny
if I didn't hate them so much
and wish they'd leave. Tonight's dinner?
Fish again
hint hint hint
Friday, February 28, 2020
school ball
It's funny, but
school ball doesn't appeal to me
at all.
I know it's the same game, but
basically - I'd rather watch B-League, not
some kids
Doing it for free!
(by rule) (it's not
their fault, but that's not
the point) (who wants to see
a school play?), no
Pay some GROWN MEN
(it could be grown women,
too but nobody seems to take
those leagues seriously, sadly. Lingerie
league? Come on
The players
- forgive me -
seem to think it's some
kind of joke) (even the coaches,
I question their level of interest)
(I question the nature
of their interest) sorry
I got distracted. Pay some
GROWN MEN or whoever!
It's not complicated
To run around
hitting each other
jumping and chasing after
a children's toy -
trying hard in the sweat
and the muscle and menace
to make some point.
I say it's grand!
A game of guts and destiny!
Helmets on, pads
and cleats, a high-tech playing field
surface or good ol' grass - and somebody
just made 14 million dollars
for it! On one play! Well
I don't actually know how it
works, per-play, but these
are the economies at play.
At work,
in that serious job, and it
makes it interesting. I just want
something at stake
B-League players, hey
- that money means something
to them. It's the difference between
getting a job, and
this IS my job. Ok,
second job. Impressed yet?
School ball, hey
- keep your grades up kids.
Maybe even go out for the
school play. You want to
well-rounded, right? You're
preparing yourself
for life. Maybe even
a serious,
serious
job
school ball doesn't appeal to me
at all.
I know it's the same game, but
basically - I'd rather watch B-League, not
some kids
Doing it for free!
(by rule) (it's not
their fault, but that's not
the point) (who wants to see
a school play?), no
Pay some GROWN MEN
(it could be grown women,
too but nobody seems to take
those leagues seriously, sadly. Lingerie
league? Come on
The players
- forgive me -
seem to think it's some
kind of joke) (even the coaches,
I question their level of interest)
(I question the nature
of their interest) sorry
I got distracted. Pay some
GROWN MEN or whoever!
It's not complicated
To run around
hitting each other
jumping and chasing after
a children's toy -
trying hard in the sweat
and the muscle and menace
to make some point.
I say it's grand!
A game of guts and destiny!
Helmets on, pads
and cleats, a high-tech playing field
surface or good ol' grass - and somebody
just made 14 million dollars
for it! On one play! Well
I don't actually know how it
works, per-play, but these
are the economies at play.
At work,
in that serious job, and it
makes it interesting. I just want
something at stake
B-League players, hey
- that money means something
to them. It's the difference between
getting a job, and
this IS my job. Ok,
second job. Impressed yet?
School ball, hey
- keep your grades up kids.
Maybe even go out for the
school play. You want to
well-rounded, right? You're
preparing yourself
for life. Maybe even
a serious,
serious
job
biggest builder
No one is safe from
the country's biggest builder
of homes. Whole tracts laid bare
of any non-ornamental trees,
non-decorative water or other
features - all this land
and more the environment stupidly
wasn't using - homes! Where there
used to be a wasteland! Homes
on top of older homes, even:
insufficiently built-upon
and maximized. Vertical real
estate, airspace to be taxed
and deeded, bought and sold
to rent or own, used and new. We
are sending out trucks, surveyors
and architects to sketch and plot,
spot opportunity, speculate and lay
wise bets, in a word: to improve. Hammers
and ladders and nails, oh my power tools
and grim, cheerful worksong-singing men
(and women!) in rough-hewn coveralls
to cover all the spaces with substance
and detail, to touch-up, back
and fill, lay floorboards and pipe
underneath and on top, to carry water
all over the house, plus wires
for the houselightning. That plus sand,
polish and finely-grain the wood (both
true and false) to a gleam, as a service
to you,
we will
fine-tune away all questions
and objections your neighborhood
or municipal board will be happy
to be paid not to have, and together
- for all we get out of it is
a huge booming business, you get homes!
- we will shape together the future
of where you'll lay your head
to sleep, and fuck and shit and eat
all in the same place. A future
of gigantic hovels or teensy-tidy
minimansions jammed and crammed
cheeky-jowly in the coziest
and most modern possible way,
on top of what used to be
not homes
the country's biggest builder
of homes. Whole tracts laid bare
of any non-ornamental trees,
non-decorative water or other
features - all this land
and more the environment stupidly
wasn't using - homes! Where there
used to be a wasteland! Homes
on top of older homes, even:
insufficiently built-upon
and maximized. Vertical real
estate, airspace to be taxed
and deeded, bought and sold
to rent or own, used and new. We
are sending out trucks, surveyors
and architects to sketch and plot,
spot opportunity, speculate and lay
wise bets, in a word: to improve. Hammers
and ladders and nails, oh my power tools
and grim, cheerful worksong-singing men
(and women!) in rough-hewn coveralls
to cover all the spaces with substance
and detail, to touch-up, back
and fill, lay floorboards and pipe
underneath and on top, to carry water
all over the house, plus wires
for the houselightning. That plus sand,
polish and finely-grain the wood (both
true and false) to a gleam, as a service
to you,
we will
fine-tune away all questions
and objections your neighborhood
or municipal board will be happy
to be paid not to have, and together
- for all we get out of it is
a huge booming business, you get homes!
- we will shape together the future
of where you'll lay your head
to sleep, and fuck and shit and eat
all in the same place. A future
of gigantic hovels or teensy-tidy
minimansions jammed and crammed
cheeky-jowly in the coziest
and most modern possible way,
on top of what used to be
not homes
that about
I can't believe or understand
a thing. What does it mean?
Should I try? Who says so, and if so
and who says how? What if I do it
wrong? Whose fault is that
for trying at all, when
I wasn't going to? When I had
to be talked into it! Doesn't
someone have to talk me into
it? Don't they at least have
to try? Why doesn't anyone care
what I think? Who sets themselves up
above to judge me from a chair in
the sky like an asshole? What's
that about? Anyway
a thing. What does it mean?
Should I try? Who says so, and if so
and who says how? What if I do it
wrong? Whose fault is that
for trying at all, when
I wasn't going to? When I had
to be talked into it! Doesn't
someone have to talk me into
it? Don't they at least have
to try? Why doesn't anyone care
what I think? Who sets themselves up
above to judge me from a chair in
the sky like an asshole? What's
that about? Anyway
Rap battle
Emcee point stepped to the mic
and said a bunch of things
on-beat, on-rhyme, on-point
sans hype, and directed
foursquare and fair,
straightforth but with flair
at his soon to be (defeated,
presumably) opponent. Only to
drop the mic
how embarrassing.
So emcee counterpoint
swiped it up and delivered
a fusillade of hey, w'sup
party party y'all in the house to be
- it was just a lot of garbage!
Didn't reference a thing
emcee point
had said or done, albeit
it did diss his trademark hat.
Something anyone could have done.
So guess
who won?
and said a bunch of things
on-beat, on-rhyme, on-point
sans hype, and directed
foursquare and fair,
straightforth but with flair
at his soon to be (defeated,
presumably) opponent. Only to
drop the mic
how embarrassing.
So emcee counterpoint
swiped it up and delivered
a fusillade of hey, w'sup
party party y'all in the house to be
- it was just a lot of garbage!
Didn't reference a thing
emcee point
had said or done, albeit
it did diss his trademark hat.
Something anyone could have done.
So guess
who won?
Enough of my poems
Enough of my poems
are rejected attempts
to reach out to you, but the thought
involved
is not sufficiently eloquent
of thought, or it's something
too much like I've meant
before. Like currency spent
Enough of my poems
are rejected songs. They lack
certain structure and form, so
that music does not belong. But maybe
if lucky, some music does. Just
not the kind of music
that makes the kind of song
I like, just because.
Not enough of my poems,
arguably,
are rejected poems.
The standard for that
isn't well-defined, and
poems are always
sneaking through loopholes.
Setting precedents for what can pass
from thought to finished work
in mind. At least,
in mine.
are rejected attempts
to reach out to you, but the thought
involved
is not sufficiently eloquent
of thought, or it's something
too much like I've meant
before. Like currency spent
Enough of my poems
are rejected songs. They lack
certain structure and form, so
that music does not belong. But maybe
if lucky, some music does. Just
not the kind of music
that makes the kind of song
I like, just because.
Not enough of my poems,
arguably,
are rejected poems.
The standard for that
isn't well-defined, and
poems are always
sneaking through loopholes.
Setting precedents for what can pass
from thought to finished work
in mind. At least,
in mine.
the edgy competitor
Playing Scrabble
using Urban Dictionary
for challenges is
a debatable way
to increase your vocabulary.
But if both and all agree, then it is
fair play. I wonder who will
play Scrabble with me
this way?
using Urban Dictionary
for challenges is
a debatable way
to increase your vocabulary.
But if both and all agree, then it is
fair play. I wonder who will
play Scrabble with me
this way?
flowering awares
What if a flower
had a brain? What
if you could dissect it to find
some cerebral mass
lying hid
under stamen,
enclosed at night
in a petaled embrace
awaiting the next day's sun
for a thought to pass?
had a brain? What
if you could dissect it to find
some cerebral mass
lying hid
under stamen,
enclosed at night
in a petaled embrace
awaiting the next day's sun
for a thought to pass?
flowering unawares
A flower
cannot smell its beauty, or
delight in the spread of its petals
It's all for the birds and bees,
and the flower babies
that it hopes to get
to compensate in some sense
for the nettles.
It has a sense:
of sunlight and shade,
of passing breeze,
of vibrations made
as you step close to stoop,
perchance to sniff
perchance to pluck -
make away with it!
The flower exists,
serene in it all. Pressed
between leaves, or left
to breathe in the pause
between spring
and fall.
cannot smell its beauty, or
delight in the spread of its petals
It's all for the birds and bees,
and the flower babies
that it hopes to get
to compensate in some sense
for the nettles.
It has a sense:
of sunlight and shade,
of passing breeze,
of vibrations made
as you step close to stoop,
perchance to sniff
perchance to pluck -
make away with it!
The flower exists,
serene in it all. Pressed
between leaves, or left
to breathe in the pause
between spring
and fall.
problematic usage
She used her body on me
and I was like, is this
the proper use of your body? But
after a minute or two, I realized
dumb question. I could tell
it wasn't and it was and it
wasn't and it was. Various use.
I didn't need to ask
Which
is good, because
I didn't ask.
I was just like that. I didn't
say it out loud. I was
too busy, I guess, to put
every dumb thought I think of
in words
into words
when there's body-using going on!
Especially, on me. I tried
using my body on her, too, but
it wasn't the same. So I was like
fuck it
These uses
are pretty odd. But
as long as there aren't
two space aliens visiting, looking,
trying to figure it out, hey
They make sense to us,
in a direct and sensory
way. It doesn't have
to be rationalized, sometimes.
Sometimes, it can be fun!
The rational faculty is an
easily-pleased beast. As long as
both people are on board,
or one is, and the other doesn't mind
being boarded - preferably
loves it
- it makes sense. It doesn't
even have to make sense,
when it does. The only thing to worry about then
is: are we just a couple of users? I don't like that.
It sounds too much like "a couple of losers," and
that's a bad association. Besides, no one likes
to be just used. Which is strange, because
no one likes to be unjustly used either,
and almost no one likes to be useless.
What are our other options?
Should we explore them?
Maybe
later!
and I was like, is this
the proper use of your body? But
after a minute or two, I realized
dumb question. I could tell
it wasn't and it was and it
wasn't and it was. Various use.
I didn't need to ask
Which
is good, because
I didn't ask.
I was just like that. I didn't
say it out loud. I was
too busy, I guess, to put
every dumb thought I think of
in words
into words
when there's body-using going on!
Especially, on me. I tried
using my body on her, too, but
it wasn't the same. So I was like
fuck it
These uses
are pretty odd. But
as long as there aren't
two space aliens visiting, looking,
trying to figure it out, hey
They make sense to us,
in a direct and sensory
way. It doesn't have
to be rationalized, sometimes.
Sometimes, it can be fun!
The rational faculty is an
easily-pleased beast. As long as
both people are on board,
or one is, and the other doesn't mind
being boarded - preferably
loves it
- it makes sense. It doesn't
even have to make sense,
when it does. The only thing to worry about then
is: are we just a couple of users? I don't like that.
It sounds too much like "a couple of losers," and
that's a bad association. Besides, no one likes
to be just used. Which is strange, because
no one likes to be unjustly used either,
and almost no one likes to be useless.
What are our other options?
Should we explore them?
Maybe
later!
mark. No point
How many exclamation marks!
Go in a single poem? It all depends
on how much you meant - your feeling
gives it form! But sometimes what's put
is not enough. You have to add a kick!
Our friend, the exclamation mark!
It could be just the trick
Go in a single poem? It all depends
on how much you meant - your feeling
gives it form! But sometimes what's put
is not enough. You have to add a kick!
Our friend, the exclamation mark!
It could be just the trick
Why I'll never write an Encyclopedia unless I get hired by space aliens
The Dutch
(I believe Dutch)
city of Antwerp
is great. It sounds like
any other city, maybe
except like you're calling someone
an ant and a twerp! Imagine living there.
You'd be an Antwerper, or something. Perhaps
you'd just be an Antwerp. Someday I'd like
to go, but for various other and more subtle,
cultural reasons surely. Well,
those plus the name. It's
such a great name
for a place
where you can go
and listen to all the people,
speaking in their funny little voices!
I consider myself a broad-minded world
traveler, considering the world goes
around and around, and I pretty much
hang on
(I believe Dutch)
city of Antwerp
is great. It sounds like
any other city, maybe
except like you're calling someone
an ant and a twerp! Imagine living there.
You'd be an Antwerper, or something. Perhaps
you'd just be an Antwerp. Someday I'd like
to go, but for various other and more subtle,
cultural reasons surely. Well,
those plus the name. It's
such a great name
for a place
where you can go
and listen to all the people,
speaking in their funny little voices!
I consider myself a broad-minded world
traveler, considering the world goes
around and around, and I pretty much
hang on
good book
When I want a book around,
I use the bible. It's good
for thumping, a doorstop,
ballast in a backpack
during a hike - it's important
to exercise your self
for reasons. Also,
for views. And sometimes
a book
is just the thing! You can
burn them for warmth
and publicity,
which drives up sales
and supports both publishers
still in business, plus
your local bookseller - if
you have one within a couple few
hundred miles. If not, there's always
the internet, but it's not nearly
as good
for some things
I use the bible. It's good
for thumping, a doorstop,
ballast in a backpack
during a hike - it's important
to exercise your self
for reasons. Also,
for views. And sometimes
a book
is just the thing! You can
burn them for warmth
and publicity,
which drives up sales
and supports both publishers
still in business, plus
your local bookseller - if
you have one within a couple few
hundred miles. If not, there's always
the internet, but it's not nearly
as good
for some things
pretend contact
Sometimes I want to reach out, but
- it's just a feeling, wanting to.
I haven't got a thing to say. I just
want to refresh your view. Same ol'
same ol' again, though? - THAT
is not the view I wish to give!
I mean, it always plays quite well, but
why? It's something I can't tell,
or guess, and I don't want
to ask. So please forgive
my absences
from your unique view
of this world. It's stupid questions
just like that
you'd always end up with
if I were not so high, exacting
with my standards for what prompts
this contact, girl. There's life
or something like it here
to live.
- it's just a feeling, wanting to.
I haven't got a thing to say. I just
want to refresh your view. Same ol'
same ol' again, though? - THAT
is not the view I wish to give!
I mean, it always plays quite well, but
why? It's something I can't tell,
or guess, and I don't want
to ask. So please forgive
my absences
from your unique view
of this world. It's stupid questions
just like that
you'd always end up with
if I were not so high, exacting
with my standards for what prompts
this contact, girl. There's life
or something like it here
to live.
Self-image
She's just the type
to make other women jealous,
or envious - she's not sure
which, or why, but sure
she's seen the looks
trail after her
as she goes by.
to make other women jealous,
or envious - she's not sure
which, or why, but sure
she's seen the looks
trail after her
as she goes by.
impress of teeth
We only bite the hand that feeds
no other hand comes close.
For texture, flavor, delicacy
- the one we love the most
is always just the one we'll bite.
Four out of five mouths
all agree. If not in words,
exact, precise - at least
in teeth, the marks we leave
so nice to see.
no other hand comes close.
For texture, flavor, delicacy
- the one we love the most
is always just the one we'll bite.
Four out of five mouths
all agree. If not in words,
exact, precise - at least
in teeth, the marks we leave
so nice to see.
Strangerism
I met a man made half of lies,
and half of clothes,
and half of knives
like eager teeth.
Three halves is nice,
because you can
at any time drop half
yourself and be complete.
So he explained,
and smiled wide.
My end was neat, until
I saw the half himself
that he had dropped
straight into me
was made of lies.
I smiled back, full
of deceit.
and half of clothes,
and half of knives
like eager teeth.
Three halves is nice,
because you can
at any time drop half
yourself and be complete.
So he explained,
and smiled wide.
My end was neat, until
I saw the half himself
that he had dropped
straight into me
was made of lies.
I smiled back, full
of deceit.
Dream anatomy
You don't have any teeth in dreams
unless something happens to make you
think of them. Your body
is the same way. Not assumed
to be there. Not assumed
at all. The parts just appear
as they're called into play
The people cross into view
to fill gaps or take parts,
and the parts appear
to be taken. It is
without art, unless
something makes you think
I could be mistaken.
unless something happens to make you
think of them. Your body
is the same way. Not assumed
to be there. Not assumed
at all. The parts just appear
as they're called into play
The people cross into view
to fill gaps or take parts,
and the parts appear
to be taken. It is
without art, unless
something makes you think
I could be mistaken.
book report
This is a book about travel.
Several of the stories
deal with this theme.
All of the stories
have people in them. Travel
loses its meaning without
people. See? You can hardly
imagine it. The End
Several of the stories
deal with this theme.
All of the stories
have people in them. Travel
loses its meaning without
people. See? You can hardly
imagine it. The End
Thursday, February 27, 2020
artifice imitates
So many poems are dying in me.
Too busy to set them down, as a budding
leaf or petal or a seed occurs,
a bit of root, a twig - there's just
no chance to give it ground. And so,
it rots
undeterred I suppose.
And sinks deep,
collapsing its spread
and unnamed parts,
relinquishing itself
into the loam.
The deep rich dark
in which all things
inevitably find their home,
from whence they spring.
Too busy to set them down, as a budding
leaf or petal or a seed occurs,
a bit of root, a twig - there's just
no chance to give it ground. And so,
it rots
undeterred I suppose.
And sinks deep,
collapsing its spread
and unnamed parts,
relinquishing itself
into the loam.
The deep rich dark
in which all things
inevitably find their home,
from whence they spring.
The Story of Cynicism.
The people don’t trust the news.
The people have been told a Story.
The story is that journalists are venal,
shoddy, driven by ambition, unconcerned
with ethics or truth, except as weapons
and tools.
And politicians? Same story.
Public servants? Same story.
Lawyers? Same story. Businesspersons?
Same story. Academia? Same story.
It is the Story of Cynicism.
Its moral: people are pretty bad, and you
are pretty naive to think otherwise. Cute,
you are. Funny you are. Oh, and the cause
of the problem? Is you, for buying in. You
enable it. Like as if
to hang back and snark instead
of grousing that it's all irredeemably
lame and ruined is a public service.
It breaks my heart. For me, and for
the general public, but above all
for the shining shards of light
raining into these dark clouds, bright
with youth and enthusiasm, not innocent at all
- to be journalists, leaders, cops, advocates,
bringers of brightness, in open-eyed plunge
we are going in! We'll try hard as we can
to keep what shine
while the whole world tells us how pretty
bad we are. Including the general environment
we’re trying to work to best.
You would have been good
as a journalist. You would have stayed
good. And accomplished, probably
some good.
The people have been told a Story.
The story is that journalists are venal,
shoddy, driven by ambition, unconcerned
with ethics or truth, except as weapons
and tools.
And politicians? Same story.
Public servants? Same story.
Lawyers? Same story. Businesspersons?
Same story. Academia? Same story.
It is the Story of Cynicism.
Its moral: people are pretty bad, and you
are pretty naive to think otherwise. Cute,
you are. Funny you are. Oh, and the cause
of the problem? Is you, for buying in. You
enable it. Like as if
to hang back and snark instead
of grousing that it's all irredeemably
lame and ruined is a public service.
It breaks my heart. For me, and for
the general public, but above all
for the shining shards of light
raining into these dark clouds, bright
with youth and enthusiasm, not innocent at all
- to be journalists, leaders, cops, advocates,
bringers of brightness, in open-eyed plunge
we are going in! We'll try hard as we can
to keep what shine
while the whole world tells us how pretty
bad we are. Including the general environment
we’re trying to work to best.
You would have been good
as a journalist. You would have stayed
good. And accomplished, probably
some good.
Wednesday, February 19, 2020
dealing again with one's peers
Remember the key
is to regard the would-be
imposing, presumptuous
or impudent intruder
with a vast and pleasurable
sense of benevolence. Sincere
curiosity "Why I wonder
do they behave as they do?
Is it child vs. animal
or a case of the
dichotomies?"
And your face
carefully composes into
a composure of caring, powerfully
judgment-neutral.
is to regard the would-be
imposing, presumptuous
or impudent intruder
with a vast and pleasurable
sense of benevolence. Sincere
curiosity "Why I wonder
do they behave as they do?
Is it child vs. animal
or a case of the
dichotomies?"
And your face
carefully composes into
a composure of caring, powerfully
judgment-neutral.
Sunday, February 16, 2020
infinite boat
There are children you see
in the world, hanging round
bars, swinging like monkeys
they once were, all grown
if not quite up, no longer
mom and dad to blame
without looking pathetic
They are nobody's children, now
They are nobody's children, now
and you have to talk
just as if you are one
of them yourself, but
you don't
know how
There are children you see
in the world, sizing up
trying to look down or knock
down each other's cup
'cause it's too half-full
for their envious eyes
so thirsty for worth
they cannot value why
They are nobody's children, now
They are nobody's children, now
and you have to talk
just as if you are one
of them yourself, but
you don't
know how
Here is the trick
If you want to come off
fit in
pass as, without clash
or scoff:
Just be who you are
uncertainly so
- a tenuous, tentative
vicious vindictive better friend
than foe
And they'll see it, and sense
the shape of some hypothetical
infinite boat you're both in.
On these shapeless seas
you have never seen,
but the pitch and the roll
of the deck make you wish
you could swim
in the world, hanging round
bars, swinging like monkeys
they once were, all grown
if not quite up, no longer
mom and dad to blame
without looking pathetic
They are nobody's children, now
They are nobody's children, now
and you have to talk
just as if you are one
of them yourself, but
you don't
know how
There are children you see
in the world, sizing up
trying to look down or knock
down each other's cup
'cause it's too half-full
for their envious eyes
so thirsty for worth
they cannot value why
They are nobody's children, now
They are nobody's children, now
and you have to talk
just as if you are one
of them yourself, but
you don't
know how
Here is the trick
If you want to come off
fit in
pass as, without clash
or scoff:
Just be who you are
uncertainly so
- a tenuous, tentative
vicious vindictive better friend
than foe
And they'll see it, and sense
the shape of some hypothetical
infinite boat you're both in.
On these shapeless seas
you have never seen,
but the pitch and the roll
of the deck make you wish
you could swim
generally fond
I am fond as hell.
Just generally fond,
and a lot of the people
just cannot believe
how I mean so much,
and so effortlessly!
Well, the joke's on them, 'cause
the joke's on me
Just generally fond,
and a lot of the people
just cannot believe
how I mean so much,
and so effortlessly!
Well, the joke's on them, 'cause
the joke's on me
Thursday, February 13, 2020
lax.
We are in abeyance, which
has expectancy that hiatus
lacks, but
is nevertheless also a state
of pause. Awaiting some action,
which currently
ah
crap. I was going to say "lacks"
again.
Lacks.
has expectancy that hiatus
lacks, but
is nevertheless also a state
of pause. Awaiting some action,
which currently
ah
crap. I was going to say "lacks"
again.
Lacks.
Sunday, February 09, 2020
double standard
Imagine being a woman: aimlessly
wandering around all the time,
seeking seed for your womb - WHAT
a horrible caricature, you say! True.
Then why is it OK to depict a man
this way, thus-backwards? Aimless
wanderer, seeking wombs for his
seed? "Because it's true"? Oh,
no. That won't do. That's unfair.
Double-standard, when your slanders
are excused because they are true.
wandering around all the time,
seeking seed for your womb - WHAT
a horrible caricature, you say! True.
Then why is it OK to depict a man
this way, thus-backwards? Aimless
wanderer, seeking wombs for his
seed? "Because it's true"? Oh,
no. That won't do. That's unfair.
Double-standard, when your slanders
are excused because they are true.
Friday, February 07, 2020
meditations on a waterfall
You know, this
is beautiful.
But it fills me
with wondering why
it's beautiful, too.
It must be something
very deep in us, because
looked at in a detached way,
it's just a lot of bullshit
sitting piled up, spilling all
over and growing out of itself. Yet
we call it "nature"
and have quiet moments
gazing into it, calmed and
somehow, for the moment -
satisfied in our wildness.
What the fuck? Arguably
what the fuck is all
this crap
is beautiful.
But it fills me
with wondering why
it's beautiful, too.
It must be something
very deep in us, because
looked at in a detached way,
it's just a lot of bullshit
sitting piled up, spilling all
over and growing out of itself. Yet
we call it "nature"
and have quiet moments
gazing into it, calmed and
somehow, for the moment -
satisfied in our wildness.
What the fuck? Arguably
what the fuck is all
this crap
extreme clarification
I don’t necessarily mean
armed response by government enforcers.
Yes, that - everywhere it rises to cross
the line of crime! But let’s do a bit better
than pawn it off on hirelings, please. Each
rightstanding, well-meaning, okay occasionally
upfucking one of us ought to stand forth and howl,
when we see such bestial behaviors. Where people act
like you wanna go what the fuck at, where people put
you
in the place of I can’t even, where no one else
is there to do it - and no one else ever is - WE
must be the press of question. We must be the brunt
of disapproval. We must abhor the abhorrent. We must,
you know, stand up and call BULL SHIT
by its given name. Can’t let it stand
in a room you’re in. Can’t let ’em say
or pretend to think it was okay
- in any room you’re in.
I don’t mean you, dear. I propose
this more as a social norm. Imagine if
everybody else were GENERALLY responsible
to do it. Imagine if
even ten to twenty people in every room
of fifty or so felt strongly about the
One Ass currently assing it up! “Gee, I
should say something, shouldn't I?
That’s utterly fuckso.”
YES.
It would be a sea change
the likes of which would
take a quantum leap
to explain. People
would be so on board with it
if only a very few more were.
armed response by government enforcers.
Yes, that - everywhere it rises to cross
the line of crime! But let’s do a bit better
than pawn it off on hirelings, please. Each
rightstanding, well-meaning, okay occasionally
upfucking one of us ought to stand forth and howl,
when we see such bestial behaviors. Where people act
like you wanna go what the fuck at, where people put
you
in the place of I can’t even, where no one else
is there to do it - and no one else ever is - WE
must be the press of question. We must be the brunt
of disapproval. We must abhor the abhorrent. We must,
you know, stand up and call BULL SHIT
by its given name. Can’t let it stand
in a room you’re in. Can’t let ’em say
or pretend to think it was okay
- in any room you’re in.
I don’t mean you, dear. I propose
this more as a social norm. Imagine if
everybody else were GENERALLY responsible
to do it. Imagine if
even ten to twenty people in every room
of fifty or so felt strongly about the
One Ass currently assing it up! “Gee, I
should say something, shouldn't I?
That’s utterly fuckso.”
YES.
It would be a sea change
the likes of which would
take a quantum leap
to explain. People
would be so on board with it
if only a very few more were.
the selfish benefit
We only see the outsides
of others, but some
know how to give from within
and they teach us to, too. If I had
to answer why you were here? I could only
answer in terms of the selfish benefit
you provide. You take things in and do
things to and with them, so that when
you give them forth, there is insight
and point
and purpose that wasn't there before.
Not everyone can do that, but more
would dare, encouraged by your example.
And find ways they could.
No one gives as you do,
from your angle. But you
help us find ours.
of others, but some
know how to give from within
and they teach us to, too. If I had
to answer why you were here? I could only
answer in terms of the selfish benefit
you provide. You take things in and do
things to and with them, so that when
you give them forth, there is insight
and point
and purpose that wasn't there before.
Not everyone can do that, but more
would dare, encouraged by your example.
And find ways they could.
No one gives as you do,
from your angle. But you
help us find ours.
Compares to desire
When I was a child
I compared myself to geniuses
angels, false gods, monsters, heroes
real and mythological, grown-ups
and animals, and other children,
and I found myself wanting
more. Plenty more
of such beings. "Aw yeah,
what a world, to harbor
such things in't, even if
only in rumour," I thought
"Wait 'til they get a load
of me." My assessment proved
prescient. I did wait. I wait
still, though many have already
gotten "a load" (so foully
and sweetly to speak) "of me"
- pretty good effect, so far!
I got no complaints, and still
I compare myself to goddesses,
wizards, demons, ghosts,
archetypes, stereotypes,
and other wouldn't-be saints.
I compared myself to geniuses
angels, false gods, monsters, heroes
real and mythological, grown-ups
and animals, and other children,
and I found myself wanting
more. Plenty more
of such beings. "Aw yeah,
what a world, to harbor
such things in't, even if
only in rumour," I thought
"Wait 'til they get a load
of me." My assessment proved
prescient. I did wait. I wait
still, though many have already
gotten "a load" (so foully
and sweetly to speak) "of me"
- pretty good effect, so far!
I got no complaints, and still
I compare myself to goddesses,
wizards, demons, ghosts,
archetypes, stereotypes,
and other wouldn't-be saints.
death pops
Whosoever shares Death Pops with Death
DIES. Not now, maybe, not eventually but
SOON. Now available in essentially sixteen
sickening and injurious natural, artificial,
accidental and/or deliberate flavors, including
the new Killer Combo - always changing! Always
a new chic and banal mix. The trick is
don't share your Death Pops with death.
Enjoy them separately
DIES. Not now, maybe, not eventually but
SOON. Now available in essentially sixteen
sickening and injurious natural, artificial,
accidental and/or deliberate flavors, including
the new Killer Combo - always changing! Always
a new chic and banal mix. The trick is
don't share your Death Pops with death.
Enjoy them separately
Wednesday, February 05, 2020
Best of Luck
“Luck” by the way,
is not a force
or a cosmic principle. Luck
is just the name we give
to everything that happens
whose cause we didn’t see
coming. Just good or bad,
lucked into it. Luck is
essentially ignorance of causality.
Which is good.
Because we’ve
got tons of it.
is not a force
or a cosmic principle. Luck
is just the name we give
to everything that happens
whose cause we didn’t see
coming. Just good or bad,
lucked into it. Luck is
essentially ignorance of causality.
Which is good.
Because we’ve
got tons of it.
Tuesday, February 04, 2020
between metaphysics
The difference between metaphysics
is this New Age woo woo shit
and the old antique wah-wah
philosophy have together conflated
to pretend to be
"beyond physics"
when in fact, those books
had simply been placed
after physics
on a shelf
in someone's library.
is this New Age woo woo shit
and the old antique wah-wah
philosophy have together conflated
to pretend to be
"beyond physics"
when in fact, those books
had simply been placed
after physics
on a shelf
in someone's library.
precocious
I could tie my shoes since
before I was born, it's just
that I hadn't
had any on. So
then, when I was -
born
- distracted at once,
I forgot for a while.
A bit
of a dunce.
I've been getting ahead of
myself ever since, never
failing to notice much
later the proven points
that I'd earlier missed. By then
convinced,
it was locked, knocked loose,
pulled back together
and fixed.
I have
always made
time for this.
before I was born, it's just
that I hadn't
had any on. So
then, when I was -
born
- distracted at once,
I forgot for a while.
A bit
of a dunce.
I've been getting ahead of
myself ever since, never
failing to notice much
later the proven points
that I'd earlier missed. By then
convinced,
it was locked, knocked loose,
pulled back together
and fixed.
I have
always made
time for this.
before a fashion
Adam and Eve and I
woke up one day
and Eve said, this fig leaf shit
is fly as hell, Ad-man, but whaaat
if we cast our nets
and webs
a bit farther and wider for material
source? Draw inspiration and muse,
of course, and invent ourselves
better second skins?
I took one look at Eve,
and I said
"That would be a sin."
woke up one day
and Eve said, this fig leaf shit
is fly as hell, Ad-man, but whaaat
if we cast our nets
and webs
a bit farther and wider for material
source? Draw inspiration and muse,
of course, and invent ourselves
better second skins?
I took one look at Eve,
and I said
"That would be a sin."
We can just drive
We can just drive
and you can think about what
you want to say. No
tunes, no
need. It's silence
okay? And companionable,
between
such two as we turned
out to be.
Let's go home,
you fool.
Or just drive for hours
and miles, and see
where we've ended up.
It must
be better than here,
flying by just above
the limit of speed
toward the edge of all things
as we disappear.
and you can think about what
you want to say. No
tunes, no
need. It's silence
okay? And companionable,
between
such two as we turned
out to be.
Let's go home,
you fool.
Or just drive for hours
and miles, and see
where we've ended up.
It must
be better than here,
flying by just above
the limit of speed
toward the edge of all things
as we disappear.
more There Ought To Be
There ought to be
a movie or tv detective ace
who shows up with partner
in tow, and they both
just mingle and mix
grinning wide, chatting up
the place. Get the party restarted,
because
the body showed up! Killed
the vibe, kind of. They need
to restore the spirits
of all. Put every one easy
with lowered guards. They put
on the music, and pour the drinks
HARD
while they rock that body
for clues,
wethinks.
Their names are John Scotland
and Tina Yard, and
they're quite unattached
to official police. I suppose
you'd have guessed as much.
At least
a movie or tv detective ace
who shows up with partner
in tow, and they both
just mingle and mix
grinning wide, chatting up
the place. Get the party restarted,
because
the body showed up! Killed
the vibe, kind of. They need
to restore the spirits
of all. Put every one easy
with lowered guards. They put
on the music, and pour the drinks
HARD
while they rock that body
for clues,
wethinks.
Their names are John Scotland
and Tina Yard, and
they're quite unattached
to official police. I suppose
you'd have guessed as much.
At least
tactile interiors
I accidentally swallowed
an entire half of a mushroom
cap. Had it in
with a mouthful of soft
sweet potato, and only
chewed that
somehow. When I swallowed,
the halved cap slid down whole;
I could feel it glisten
all the way down.
I almost threw up
my hands in delight! At
this wild sensation
I'd found.
How droll.
an entire half of a mushroom
cap. Had it in
with a mouthful of soft
sweet potato, and only
chewed that
somehow. When I swallowed,
the halved cap slid down whole;
I could feel it glisten
all the way down.
I almost threw up
my hands in delight! At
this wild sensation
I'd found.
How droll.
The smaller potato
The smaller potato,
the bigger steak. That's
what I get, but it's not
what I want. Yet
someone's been generous.
And I couldn't bring
myself to the ingrate's stance
upon any such thing. It's why
people love me, I guess.
It's not why I do it.
It's kind of a mess.
I don't know why
I do. But I don't
care to guess.
In a case like this.
Where they gave me
the best
they knew, or wanted
- and left themselves second
to one. But took
the potato of generous size
to console themselves. It was wrong
as a guess, but
I guess it was right
to lie.
the bigger steak. That's
what I get, but it's not
what I want. Yet
someone's been generous.
And I couldn't bring
myself to the ingrate's stance
upon any such thing. It's why
people love me, I guess.
It's not why I do it.
It's kind of a mess.
I don't know why
I do. But I don't
care to guess.
In a case like this.
Where they gave me
the best
they knew, or wanted
- and left themselves second
to one. But took
the potato of generous size
to console themselves. It was wrong
as a guess, but
I guess it was right
to lie.
This is so much better than doing it.
When you've got a horrible
imagination like mine, you're
kidding yourself. No you don't.
It's fine. Fine
for you, any rate. You just take
my word. So much
you imagine, you do
- the part that's merely
absurd! So much more, you
don't.
And assuage your dissatisfied,
unfulfilled fancy by
telling it off. By
calling it
wrong,
and vile.
Which it is. Well,
for a conscience,
you've sure got style.
imagination like mine, you're
kidding yourself. No you don't.
It's fine. Fine
for you, any rate. You just take
my word. So much
you imagine, you do
- the part that's merely
absurd! So much more, you
don't.
And assuage your dissatisfied,
unfulfilled fancy by
telling it off. By
calling it
wrong,
and vile.
Which it is. Well,
for a conscience,
you've sure got style.
the urge to do wrong right and fail.
Sometimes I want to write my
most beautiful poem of all, and
title it "rat semen," but
that would be wrong done
wrong, arguably. I want
to do wrong right and
fail. Now this
is possibly what keeps me
honest, but in
principle, it's a
predilection. Not
a policy.
most beautiful poem of all, and
title it "rat semen," but
that would be wrong done
wrong, arguably. I want
to do wrong right and
fail. Now this
is possibly what keeps me
honest, but in
principle, it's a
predilection. Not
a policy.
discombobu
My balls catch
in my throat, each time
I see your eyes combine
in my mind, like the windows
have all blown wide
in the flying glass, your ass
well-covered for once,
this time
no scratches or cuts
shall come
between us, no harm
my leg to stand on's gone numb,
and the heart up my sleeve
beats red through my shirt
you can take it from me, but
oh lord
it hurt. I hold you
in my arm (where the other one's
gone I don't know) but both hands
say take this slow
motion, fast
like a fist,
like a knife like a gun
I will love this one
You will love this one
in my throat, each time
I see your eyes combine
in my mind, like the windows
have all blown wide
in the flying glass, your ass
well-covered for once,
this time
no scratches or cuts
shall come
between us, no harm
my leg to stand on's gone numb,
and the heart up my sleeve
beats red through my shirt
you can take it from me, but
oh lord
it hurt. I hold you
in my arm (where the other one's
gone I don't know) but both hands
say take this slow
motion, fast
like a fist,
like a knife like a gun
I will love this one
You will love this one
Life Advice Fool
Sometimes all you can do is your best,
and trust the other to do what's right.
True, sometimes the other is a free
and equal being - every bit as equal
as you, and so entitled in some sense
to employ their own reason on that.
What's right.
So sometimes they come up with a verdict
on how to act that reflects they don't know
a rat's buttocks from bollocks, or maybe
they think the "S" on their moral compass
stands for "Up." So what, some asshole
like you is going to stand in the judge-box
banging your little wooden mjolnir like
you're worthy? Please
Grow up.
It's fair. They get to judge
all they want for what's theirs,
including all self they do or don't
care
to offer. Or all of yours
they do care to decline,
or accept. It's fair, because
Same beans, free being. You do that shit
too, dude. Dudess. Besides, guess
what? Sometimes
all they can do
is their best.
How do you like their chances?
Versus yours, or perchance
with yours?
How do you like all our chances
in that everlasting, drag-racing,
often enough drugged and dragged
out bound and gagged non contest? You
just see to yourself. See for yourself:
You have to be vicious. Savage. Wild. Full
-grown and mature past a certain point, civilized
and socialized, acting at will in alignment
and harmony or deliberate, dissonant clang
and clash
with the forces around you, even if
you have to be sweet
- naive, even. Invincibly courteous,
and good as given. For real,
sometimes you have to be
the advice
you have taken
for living. And do
Your best.
And you trust them
to do what's right,
if not for you.
and trust the other to do what's right.
True, sometimes the other is a free
and equal being - every bit as equal
as you, and so entitled in some sense
to employ their own reason on that.
What's right.
So sometimes they come up with a verdict
on how to act that reflects they don't know
a rat's buttocks from bollocks, or maybe
they think the "S" on their moral compass
stands for "Up." So what, some asshole
like you is going to stand in the judge-box
banging your little wooden mjolnir like
you're worthy? Please
Grow up.
It's fair. They get to judge
all they want for what's theirs,
including all self they do or don't
care
to offer. Or all of yours
they do care to decline,
or accept. It's fair, because
Same beans, free being. You do that shit
too, dude. Dudess. Besides, guess
what? Sometimes
all they can do
is their best.
How do you like their chances?
Versus yours, or perchance
with yours?
How do you like all our chances
in that everlasting, drag-racing,
often enough drugged and dragged
out bound and gagged non contest? You
just see to yourself. See for yourself:
You have to be vicious. Savage. Wild. Full
-grown and mature past a certain point, civilized
and socialized, acting at will in alignment
and harmony or deliberate, dissonant clang
and clash
with the forces around you, even if
you have to be sweet
- naive, even. Invincibly courteous,
and good as given. For real,
sometimes you have to be
the advice
you have taken
for living. And do
Your best.
And you trust them
to do what's right,
if not for you.
reverse invention
What would we do
to notice things, if we
didn't have our camera phones
to prove and show off we'd noticed them?
I guess
we'd have to look that much
more close and fond, and trust
ourselves
to memory again.
to notice things, if we
didn't have our camera phones
to prove and show off we'd noticed them?
I guess
we'd have to look that much
more close and fond, and trust
ourselves
to memory again.
past it
You know you're past it
when you start to daydream
fantasize about yourself
in the past tense. Of
times back when you knew
you were never going do that
anyway, but you still could.
You could daydream, but
all your old favorites
have veered off to
impossibility, and
lost their sparkle
and draw. So what now,
pal?
You have to break your horizons
wide and find things you're still
never going to do anyway, but
anyway, you still could. Then
you see, you find, you realize
you were never past it. In fact,
it was always in the other direction.
when you start to daydream
fantasize about yourself
in the past tense. Of
times back when you knew
you were never going do that
anyway, but you still could.
You could daydream, but
all your old favorites
have veered off to
impossibility, and
lost their sparkle
and draw. So what now,
pal?
You have to break your horizons
wide and find things you're still
never going to do anyway, but
anyway, you still could. Then
you see, you find, you realize
you were never past it. In fact,
it was always in the other direction.
Monday, February 03, 2020
naive discovery
Naive means
"strong, fresh, artless and direct" and
I think as I age, I'm becoming more
three out of four of those things, so
Naive it is. And that's how I reckon
I'll only be more, since
that's been my natural response
to it. And three out of four
ain't bad - it's seventy-five
percent! Good enough for a D. Any tests?
PASS. Whatever. Rhyme? I go
primitively, rude-hewn simplicity
of no rhyme, sometimes. Other
times it just falls into place
so fine? I'm like
WHO is the best? I'm like
WHO is the okayest? I'm like
hoo hoo "WHO'S the rhyme mastery
apprentice in the place to be
and when this party kicks into
a gear, it will eventually"
And then it is. There, too
Oh, it's RIGHT HERE.
- and I'm right there to match,
it's all I'm getting so clear.
Invincibly naive, I have been
lately being, so
that. Covers that, now
...uh, uh-um, uh-huh
one (1) dill pickle spear
to go
"strong, fresh, artless and direct" and
I think as I age, I'm becoming more
three out of four of those things, so
Naive it is. And that's how I reckon
I'll only be more, since
that's been my natural response
to it. And three out of four
ain't bad - it's seventy-five
percent! Good enough for a D. Any tests?
PASS. Whatever. Rhyme? I go
primitively, rude-hewn simplicity
of no rhyme, sometimes. Other
times it just falls into place
so fine? I'm like
WHO is the best? I'm like
WHO is the okayest? I'm like
hoo hoo "WHO'S the rhyme mastery
apprentice in the place to be
and when this party kicks into
a gear, it will eventually"
And then it is. There, too
Oh, it's RIGHT HERE.
- and I'm right there to match,
it's all I'm getting so clear.
Invincibly naive, I have been
lately being, so
that. Covers that, now
...uh, uh-um, uh-huh
one (1) dill pickle spear
to go
postposterous
you know at the time,
it all seemed fine
it all made sense
but after the fact?
I see that it was
just gigantically dense
of me,
the wise
(present-tense)
and correct
(retrospectively)
master of suspense.
I do not believe
I do not disbelieve
A ruthless and monstrous
skeptic, for sure!
I used to be taken in
by dreams, since
the logic within was so
right-just-as-if -
'til you wake,
and you find
it was bonkers galore
And you swallowed it blithe!
And you kept on for more,
in a course that was set
by some random tide.
You were doing such things
in your wildest dreams,
and they all seemed so tame, so
ho-hum, at the time. It's a wonder
that this
was all in your mind?
Surely somebody else's. Perhaps
you went visiting out in the night
into some foreign mind. But
it seemed to be you.
Well, it's over. Wake up!
Things will start making sense
once we open the wine.
So let's not decide. In fact:
let's decide not to. Just bury me now
on the underside of the fence,
and we'll see greenest grass
growing in towards the middle
luxuriously dense.
And in your defense,
I will say
It was all
no lie.
it all seemed fine
it all made sense
but after the fact?
I see that it was
just gigantically dense
of me,
the wise
(present-tense)
and correct
(retrospectively)
master of suspense.
I do not believe
I do not disbelieve
A ruthless and monstrous
skeptic, for sure!
I used to be taken in
by dreams, since
the logic within was so
right-just-as-if -
'til you wake,
and you find
it was bonkers galore
And you swallowed it blithe!
And you kept on for more,
in a course that was set
by some random tide.
You were doing such things
in your wildest dreams,
and they all seemed so tame, so
ho-hum, at the time. It's a wonder
that this
was all in your mind?
Surely somebody else's. Perhaps
you went visiting out in the night
into some foreign mind. But
it seemed to be you.
Well, it's over. Wake up!
Things will start making sense
once we open the wine.
So let's not decide. In fact:
let's decide not to. Just bury me now
on the underside of the fence,
and we'll see greenest grass
growing in towards the middle
luxuriously dense.
And in your defense,
I will say
It was all
no lie.
In murder movies,
In murder movies,
British ones. The scene
smash cuts dark just
When the character comes
to the door
to a room, calls
a name, and
knocks -
there is no reply
They open, and begin to go in
And we're outside. In the sunlight
around an airy table, chatting
airily with some other random
ones from the ensemble. And
after a while, as the plot weaves on
and you get interested
in this,
Back to the room! Inside
this time. But
The one who knocked
is gone.
And we don't know what happened
or did it
but
it's wrong.
That body
it couldn't be there.
It just couldn't.
It's the detective
British ones. The scene
smash cuts dark just
When the character comes
to the door
to a room, calls
a name, and
knocks -
there is no reply
They open, and begin to go in
And we're outside. In the sunlight
around an airy table, chatting
airily with some other random
ones from the ensemble. And
after a while, as the plot weaves on
and you get interested
in this,
Back to the room! Inside
this time. But
The one who knocked
is gone.
And we don't know what happened
or did it
but
it's wrong.
That body
it couldn't be there.
It just couldn't.
It's the detective
dialogues in space 2
"No,
I don't even know her! She
just turned to regard me
while I was waiting
for the beers, and
so I look at her and smile, friendly-like -"
"Like you are."
"- like I am, and out of nowhere she
goes, 'hey
man, I think you're hot.'"
"NO SHE DID NOT." "Well, go ask?"
"She's pretty cute, man!
- what did you say back?"
"Well,
I paused.
And I took myself a step
aback, regarding her
with
that head-cocked
-to-the-side kind of quizzical
imperceptible narrowing of one's eye
that I do, and then
I said,
'I think you're thinking of somebody else.'"
I don't even know her! She
just turned to regard me
while I was waiting
for the beers, and
so I look at her and smile, friendly-like -"
"Like you are."
"- like I am, and out of nowhere she
goes, 'hey
man, I think you're hot.'"
"NO SHE DID NOT." "Well, go ask?"
"She's pretty cute, man!
- what did you say back?"
"Well,
I paused.
And I took myself a step
aback, regarding her
with
that head-cocked
-to-the-side kind of quizzical
imperceptible narrowing of one's eye
that I do, and then
I said,
'I think you're thinking of somebody else.'"
a dialogue in space
"You know,
lightning is invisible in space." "God.
What are you talking about now?" "In space,
lightning is invisible. We can only see
lightning here
because of the atmosphere.
The visible light
is generated by the incandescence of the air
molecules, super-heated by the barrage
of charged particles
passing through them. In space,
there would be nothing to see - completely
invisible."
"There is no lightning in space."
... [pause]
"...how would you know?"
lightning is invisible in space." "God.
What are you talking about now?" "In space,
lightning is invisible. We can only see
lightning here
because of the atmosphere.
The visible light
is generated by the incandescence of the air
molecules, super-heated by the barrage
of charged particles
passing through them. In space,
there would be nothing to see - completely
invisible."
"There is no lightning in space."
... [pause]
"...how would you know?"
In a spirited defense of "girls"
What we would like to believe
and imply in calling women
"girls"
is that all women are
young, physically attractive
sexually desirable, available
and willing, and perhaps
with an implication of being placed
at a social, legal, or financial
disadvantage, so that they would
naturally as a matter of Darwinism
compete fiercely to gratify
our needs and satisfy
our wants - animal, rude,
classy romantic and
otherwise - with their
bodies, principally, their
physical presence, proving
we were right there, next
to her, same time, same place - though this
is by no means their entire purpose, or
the complete extent of their duties
which nature and honor impose
on them
(it's not us)
from time immemorial. However,
None of this is suggestive
of any attitude of superiority
towards, over, above, beneath
or especially behind
these girls! In fact it is we,
mighty, proud, rich
- and damn attractive
in that sense, if not exactly
'good-looking' - who consider
ourselves grossly, cosmically,
spectacularly inferior! Though we are
in all fairness, very nice. Still
they are goddesses. Unattainable
to be praised in abject ignorance
and obliviousness of their specific
attributes. They were bestowed
to us from on high, to be highly
sought after, rejoiced and fought
over. To be killed, or be
killing. We know
we are unworthy
- so naturally if they spurn us,
that stings. We curse
and threaten them in only
the vilest terms, to their face
or over phones, all as they've
just deserved! We are unworthy
of girls, women of this girlish
and perfect kind; we know we throttle
and trample ourselves and each other
in the dirt
and filth
and mud
they've just recently had
to walk through, we worship
there. Right where this precious
and special one only just trod,
barefoot and eventually pregnant
towards some picturesque perfect
kitchen.
In the future
we will always be more considerate.
It is part of the deal we offer
all girls. Every girl. One
would be fine
and imply in calling women
"girls"
is that all women are
young, physically attractive
sexually desirable, available
and willing, and perhaps
with an implication of being placed
at a social, legal, or financial
disadvantage, so that they would
naturally as a matter of Darwinism
compete fiercely to gratify
our needs and satisfy
our wants - animal, rude,
classy romantic and
otherwise - with their
bodies, principally, their
physical presence, proving
we were right there, next
to her, same time, same place - though this
is by no means their entire purpose, or
the complete extent of their duties
which nature and honor impose
on them
(it's not us)
from time immemorial. However,
None of this is suggestive
of any attitude of superiority
towards, over, above, beneath
or especially behind
these girls! In fact it is we,
mighty, proud, rich
- and damn attractive
in that sense, if not exactly
'good-looking' - who consider
ourselves grossly, cosmically,
spectacularly inferior! Though we are
in all fairness, very nice. Still
they are goddesses. Unattainable
to be praised in abject ignorance
and obliviousness of their specific
attributes. They were bestowed
to us from on high, to be highly
sought after, rejoiced and fought
over. To be killed, or be
killing. We know
we are unworthy
- so naturally if they spurn us,
that stings. We curse
and threaten them in only
the vilest terms, to their face
or over phones, all as they've
just deserved! We are unworthy
of girls, women of this girlish
and perfect kind; we know we throttle
and trample ourselves and each other
in the dirt
and filth
and mud
they've just recently had
to walk through, we worship
there. Right where this precious
and special one only just trod,
barefoot and eventually pregnant
towards some picturesque perfect
kitchen.
In the future
we will always be more considerate.
It is part of the deal we offer
all girls. Every girl. One
would be fine
Comment on my sister's philosophical social media post share
"The difficulty of
apprehending the emergent nature
of consciousness consists partly in
the entrenchment of emergentism
and emergence itself, and partly
in an individual human being's subjective grasp
of not only aesthetics,
not only deontology,
but ontology: our approach
to the reality of being, and all
it implies. What *is* is, and how goes
it? What it bees, Keanu Reeves? What the hey,
my gentle peeps and mah rough and tumbler ruder-hewn
peoples? How does it go for you today? How does what's up
get DOWW-W-W-N, and what are we - as free beings - to understand
about that, as part (if we wish and embrace it) of our part? This,
and other things, are wrongly grasped
ass-end up as problems, when in actual fact,
if properly held and possibly stroked, fondly
probed and scrupulously scraped and examined, each
is its own solution to something largely unasked,
and so, underappreciated. The modern problem
of our minds with us is that really, we don't know how to begin."
apprehending the emergent nature
of consciousness consists partly in
the entrenchment of emergentism
and emergence itself, and partly
in an individual human being's subjective grasp
of not only aesthetics,
not only deontology,
but ontology: our approach
to the reality of being, and all
it implies. What *is* is, and how goes
it? What it bees, Keanu Reeves? What the hey,
my gentle peeps and mah rough and tumbler ruder-hewn
peoples? How does it go for you today? How does what's up
get DOWW-W-W-N, and what are we - as free beings - to understand
about that, as part (if we wish and embrace it) of our part? This,
and other things, are wrongly grasped
ass-end up as problems, when in actual fact,
if properly held and possibly stroked, fondly
probed and scrupulously scraped and examined, each
is its own solution to something largely unasked,
and so, underappreciated. The modern problem
of our minds with us is that really, we don't know how to begin."
benediction number twelve
When you can't
get by
on a wing and a prayer
...a leg and a curse
will get you
there.
get by
on a wing and a prayer
...a leg and a curse
will get you
there.
WARNING: STRONG LANGUAGE
WARNING: **STRONG LANGUAGE**
or "profanity" as they say
is largely a matter of pathetic superstition
involving some syllables pack extra FOUL, BAD
POWER despite synonyms of exact same denotative
value, typically inculcated by parents
of an ignorant, incompetent or abusively
cruel kind, in order to install in their
own child's mind a weakness for the whole
wide world
to exploit with glee,
for their whole dang life
long, unless and except they
spot the flaw, discard it
as unworthy, and
GROW UP
- and therefore, should be avoided.
Most
of these
superstitious types are good
kind, decent and harmless, or at least try
to be nice, and you don't want to hurt
such sitting ducks. They waddle and quack
pleasantly enough, sometimes cluck. Mercy
is indicated
upon the weak.
Whether it was done
to them, naturally
or nurturally, or whether
they simply chose it each day, and in each
such encounter. Mercy is indicated.
Cheers
fuckface
or "profanity" as they say
is largely a matter of pathetic superstition
involving some syllables pack extra FOUL, BAD
POWER despite synonyms of exact same denotative
value, typically inculcated by parents
of an ignorant, incompetent or abusively
cruel kind, in order to install in their
own child's mind a weakness for the whole
wide world
to exploit with glee,
for their whole dang life
long, unless and except they
spot the flaw, discard it
as unworthy, and
GROW UP
- and therefore, should be avoided.
Most
of these
superstitious types are good
kind, decent and harmless, or at least try
to be nice, and you don't want to hurt
such sitting ducks. They waddle and quack
pleasantly enough, sometimes cluck. Mercy
is indicated
upon the weak.
Whether it was done
to them, naturally
or nurturally, or whether
they simply chose it each day, and in each
such encounter. Mercy is indicated.
Cheers
fuckface
my Yelp review
Yelp is an anus of lies.
Larry's Deli (Tampa Bay
Area, Florida) is gold.
Their Cuban sandwich
is fuck hot toasty
meaty bun-crunchy
just the right cheesy,
mustardy and with a kiss
of pickles DELICIOUS. Yelp
is ego shit for prima donna crybaby diva TANTRUM CUNTS
who think the world's purpose is to wait on their
hyperentitled overprivileged ASS, just because
they're the customer, they came in
for help,
for service,
it should be with at least a sting of HUMILITY
that you petition another for what they can do
for you, and the fact you may pay
does not elevate you to a lordship, lady. Yelp
ought to be rechristened something more unambiguously
painful, because it is to see these fucks
disporting their dudgeon and snoot
in disgusting comportment
all over the internet, or at least
on Yelp. Yelp
can go to a bag of dicks restaurant
and order the famous five-star bag of dicks
blue plate special,
and eat it,
and I give it two
and a half stars,
on a scale of eleven.
Which I think is fair
Larry's Deli (Tampa Bay
Area, Florida) is gold.
Their Cuban sandwich
is fuck hot toasty
meaty bun-crunchy
just the right cheesy,
mustardy and with a kiss
of pickles DELICIOUS. Yelp
is ego shit for prima donna crybaby diva TANTRUM CUNTS
who think the world's purpose is to wait on their
hyperentitled overprivileged ASS, just because
they're the customer, they came in
for help,
for service,
it should be with at least a sting of HUMILITY
that you petition another for what they can do
for you, and the fact you may pay
does not elevate you to a lordship, lady. Yelp
ought to be rechristened something more unambiguously
painful, because it is to see these fucks
disporting their dudgeon and snoot
in disgusting comportment
all over the internet, or at least
on Yelp. Yelp
can go to a bag of dicks restaurant
and order the famous five-star bag of dicks
blue plate special,
and eat it,
and I give it two
and a half stars,
on a scale of eleven.
Which I think is fair
Explanatory Notes
I explain things in an offhand,
deadpan matter-of-fact way
that goes on and on with digression
and fractally-multiplied kaleidoscopic
tangent until something or some one thinks
its (or their) intelligence
may be insulted, or has been, that I
must be kidding (them
or self) and I am
not! I mustn't! I'm just
enjoying the sights along the
long, long way right over the cliff.
A pleasant daylit amble in ever-changing
weather and light of the moment's notice,
blasting from my Aldis lamp, clickety-flashing
like a disco strobe aimed laserlike at key
features, burning the ants
off of them
this,
I mean well. Very well! And I am sincere,
endlessly swinging at shining length, a huge
garbled knot of gleaming metal, sharpness of point
and blunt force of clarity, swung deft, feather-touch
light and car crash hard by imposing haft. Heft that
masterpiece of peace weaponry! If you will,
if you are interested or worthy, and find
- is it unwieldy? No! 'Twas light as a beam
and I loft it so. And besides, people
get that. About me. Not what I mean, always
but that I sure do mean it. They get it. They
would have to. Process of elimination. Who the hell
could conceivably lay down so high a line
of patter with an ulterior purpose to serve?
WHAT purpose? It's indefeasibly purposeless,
how I roll - and right, and fair, and just
my way. I don't mean nothing by it.
I mean everything. So mean
I mean it all, but well, you know
it isn't and/or wasn't
important. My interest in the topic
ends in yours, anytime we or you
like! We can talk
about nothing, or anything
else. This
and other explanatory notes
drift floating in bottles populating
the undulating surface of every ocean
on earth by now, some of them even
wending up rivers like salmon, clear
glass or green, once beer-filled,
not freighted with a more papery
sort of hope and refreshment -
all jotted and stuffed
and carefree flung
by me, off-hand
in the hopes it's enough. Or could be
deadpan matter-of-fact way
that goes on and on with digression
and fractally-multiplied kaleidoscopic
tangent until something or some one thinks
its (or their) intelligence
may be insulted, or has been, that I
must be kidding (them
or self) and I am
not! I mustn't! I'm just
enjoying the sights along the
long, long way right over the cliff.
A pleasant daylit amble in ever-changing
weather and light of the moment's notice,
blasting from my Aldis lamp, clickety-flashing
like a disco strobe aimed laserlike at key
features, burning the ants
off of them
this,
I mean well. Very well! And I am sincere,
endlessly swinging at shining length, a huge
garbled knot of gleaming metal, sharpness of point
and blunt force of clarity, swung deft, feather-touch
light and car crash hard by imposing haft. Heft that
masterpiece of peace weaponry! If you will,
if you are interested or worthy, and find
- is it unwieldy? No! 'Twas light as a beam
and I loft it so. And besides, people
get that. About me. Not what I mean, always
but that I sure do mean it. They get it. They
would have to. Process of elimination. Who the hell
could conceivably lay down so high a line
of patter with an ulterior purpose to serve?
WHAT purpose? It's indefeasibly purposeless,
how I roll - and right, and fair, and just
my way. I don't mean nothing by it.
I mean everything. So mean
I mean it all, but well, you know
it isn't and/or wasn't
important. My interest in the topic
ends in yours, anytime we or you
like! We can talk
about nothing, or anything
else. This
and other explanatory notes
drift floating in bottles populating
the undulating surface of every ocean
on earth by now, some of them even
wending up rivers like salmon, clear
glass or green, once beer-filled,
not freighted with a more papery
sort of hope and refreshment -
all jotted and stuffed
and carefree flung
by me, off-hand
in the hopes it's enough. Or could be
coping mechanism verdict full acquittal
I was beginning to
despair, but then
I hoped
it might only be
dismay, disappointment
at expectation, not
unfulfilled so much
as the glass cracked in half
such that neither could be
filled. Except incessantly,
perpetually, a futile
endeavor. Anyway,
in such ways
as is often my wont,
I distracted myself
splitting hairs between classes
of adjectives, moods
and problems about which
there's nothing to do.
Or nothing that could be
done. That ceded, that
grasped, I concluded: there is
no solution, and
- there more or less
never was. So
no cause for despair then! It was not
a problem really. More a mere personal
subjective
invincible
distaste
for some inalterable aspect
of reality, and
you know me
I never sweat those
despair, but then
I hoped
it might only be
dismay, disappointment
at expectation, not
unfulfilled so much
as the glass cracked in half
such that neither could be
filled. Except incessantly,
perpetually, a futile
endeavor. Anyway,
in such ways
as is often my wont,
I distracted myself
splitting hairs between classes
of adjectives, moods
and problems about which
there's nothing to do.
Or nothing that could be
done. That ceded, that
grasped, I concluded: there is
no solution, and
- there more or less
never was. So
no cause for despair then! It was not
a problem really. More a mere personal
subjective
invincible
distaste
for some inalterable aspect
of reality, and
you know me
I never sweat those
Abortive self-criticism
As beautifully-written as this is,
it isn't really. It's as if some
asshole...oh yeah.
Okay, never mind. That explains
it.
it isn't really. It's as if some
asshole...oh yeah.
Okay, never mind. That explains
it.
the once-bitten hand
The once-bitten hand
never feeds again. It would
never quite dare, even though
it can. It would rather
teach lesson in stinkeye
and pout. "No, my dainties
within me can rot! They are
not
for your mouth." And so it
draws out.
never feeds again. It would
never quite dare, even though
it can. It would rather
teach lesson in stinkeye
and pout. "No, my dainties
within me can rot! They are
not
for your mouth." And so it
draws out.
know thyselves (ad infinitum)
Conformity
is personal integrity at a societal level.
And therefore monstrous and wrong,
or at the very least criminally
and medically inadvisable - as
in order to unjustly anthropomorphize
and reify society in one being,
we must perforce submit to
a mass self-diagnosis as
the worst case of multiple
personality disorder
on record or imaginable, and worse -
a case attempting to pass
as socialized, rather than
radically, incurably, irreconcilably
dissociated. Imagine
of how many minds we would have
to be
on every
decision we had
to contemplate, combatively
and endlessly. Well,
we pretty much are! But at least
we have integrity. Some of us.
On a personal level, integrity
is self-conformity. A much overpraised,
undervalued and unpracticed virtue. I myself
even (pissing hypocrite!) am very much
a self-noncomformist, and what's more
- entirely unprincipled. Almost. I suppose
my principled stance of anti-principle
counts as at least a credo, and therefore
counts. But the point is,
I am as strong as a can of spinach,
and I yam what I yam.
Please yourself, that's
your business. One's own
always is.
is personal integrity at a societal level.
And therefore monstrous and wrong,
or at the very least criminally
and medically inadvisable - as
in order to unjustly anthropomorphize
and reify society in one being,
we must perforce submit to
a mass self-diagnosis as
the worst case of multiple
personality disorder
on record or imaginable, and worse -
a case attempting to pass
as socialized, rather than
radically, incurably, irreconcilably
dissociated. Imagine
of how many minds we would have
to be
on every
decision we had
to contemplate, combatively
and endlessly. Well,
we pretty much are! But at least
we have integrity. Some of us.
On a personal level, integrity
is self-conformity. A much overpraised,
undervalued and unpracticed virtue. I myself
even (pissing hypocrite!) am very much
a self-noncomformist, and what's more
- entirely unprincipled. Almost. I suppose
my principled stance of anti-principle
counts as at least a credo, and therefore
counts. But the point is,
I am as strong as a can of spinach,
and I yam what I yam.
Please yourself, that's
your business. One's own
always is.
Realization is
Cognition is an engine, and
recognition, the exhaust. This
tossed-off metaphor is
the steering wheel, and the whole car
is lost. All this was hard-wired
in synapse and neuroquantum fizz
long before GPS or even maps, but
we've traced and we've track'd
our ways to it. And it isn't
as if
we can find our
way back.
So you stand in the street
waiting for your own ride
with yourself at the wheel
still exploring surrounds
and environs, far-flung
and far-fetched enough. You are
by now quite real and alive,
doing stuff.
recognition, the exhaust. This
tossed-off metaphor is
the steering wheel, and the whole car
is lost. All this was hard-wired
in synapse and neuroquantum fizz
long before GPS or even maps, but
we've traced and we've track'd
our ways to it. And it isn't
as if
we can find our
way back.
So you stand in the street
waiting for your own ride
with yourself at the wheel
still exploring surrounds
and environs, far-flung
and far-fetched enough. You are
by now quite real and alive,
doing stuff.
Sunday, February 02, 2020
hard horrible knocks
If the head
took the knocks
and the blows
and the beatings
the heart has habitually
kept to itself, concussion
would not even need diagnosis.
It either would have killed us
off in the nest, or else
we'd survive
by evolving a skull
much more cushioned
and meshed with supporting
webs - which exists
to degrees, but nothing like what
we would need
if our brains
had our heart's kind
of guests.
took the knocks
and the blows
and the beatings
the heart has habitually
kept to itself, concussion
would not even need diagnosis.
It either would have killed us
off in the nest, or else
we'd survive
by evolving a skull
much more cushioned
and meshed with supporting
webs - which exists
to degrees, but nothing like what
we would need
if our brains
had our heart's kind
of guests.
Protest 2: Much?
Everso slightly
making too much
of a humorously-enough
remark,
intended
as neither fair,
nor just,
nor certainly cruel,
but just a fond
jape, such as fits
in trust, so neatly
between you, fool. Yes I do
mean your ears, dear
dope. You do
hear such horrible
things, sometimes! Have
you thought of cleaning
them out? It's a scandal,
the hope and the bliss
so ignorantly dashed
by the beast and the bully
I've been to you
- to hear you go on
and on
all about. I should think
I'd want nothing to do,
but I do.
making too much
of a humorously-enough
remark,
intended
as neither fair,
nor just,
nor certainly cruel,
but just a fond
jape, such as fits
in trust, so neatly
between you, fool. Yes I do
mean your ears, dear
dope. You do
hear such horrible
things, sometimes! Have
you thought of cleaning
them out? It's a scandal,
the hope and the bliss
so ignorantly dashed
by the beast and the bully
I've been to you
- to hear you go on
and on
all about. I should think
I'd want nothing to do,
but I do.
interpersonil
I think people really
are mostly fairly
reasonable. But
I think also that
as soon as they perceive
an antagonism, reason
switches over to pure attack
/defense functions, and
any capacity they had
for objectivity goes
out the window. They're forced
and focused 100%
on defeating the challenge, and
they're primed to escalate
to the next level (and the next,
and the next, until finally they
find themselves doing something
utterly unreasonable! But in their
minds, it was
in their defense. Each step
of escalation was just
what they had to do
in response to the
threat) as needed
are mostly fairly
reasonable. But
I think also that
as soon as they perceive
an antagonism, reason
switches over to pure attack
/defense functions, and
any capacity they had
for objectivity goes
out the window. They're forced
and focused 100%
on defeating the challenge, and
they're primed to escalate
to the next level (and the next,
and the next, until finally they
find themselves doing something
utterly unreasonable! But in their
minds, it was
in their defense. Each step
of escalation was just
what they had to do
in response to the
threat) as needed
Misinterpreters
They did not reck my rod, and so
I wrecked their read, they'd read into
so recklessly. Their faces grew
about as red as probably
they saw. That moment,
all came round. And each
accused of rude, and all
protesting most objectionably.
I reckon they
most surely knew. But if
they didn't, now they know.
I never rowed a better boat
as I that day took oar
and steered right down
their throat, and
disappeared.
The red skies grew
to towering, sparkling black
and still, no sign
of anything afloat
despite my peers
of equal weight
and buoyancy
into the darkness
all around - and ears
strained silence quietly.
Ah, well! Let's call
a crew to drag
the moat.
I wrecked their read, they'd read into
so recklessly. Their faces grew
about as red as probably
they saw. That moment,
all came round. And each
accused of rude, and all
protesting most objectionably.
I reckon they
most surely knew. But if
they didn't, now they know.
I never rowed a better boat
as I that day took oar
and steered right down
their throat, and
disappeared.
The red skies grew
to towering, sparkling black
and still, no sign
of anything afloat
despite my peers
of equal weight
and buoyancy
into the darkness
all around - and ears
strained silence quietly.
Ah, well! Let's call
a crew to drag
the moat.
compliments for granted
How do you interpret
insincerely or for real,
some poor probably socially
awkward person, trying their best
to make a favorable impression on you,
probably
botching something
they’re not particularly good at?
Are they sincerely fawning and really
believe you’re good? Or just
fake-fawning for obsequious reasons? Some
charming, wily cunning-tongued sort, mauve
of motive and spectacularly unfathomable,
inscrutable as a fox carved in living rock
- symbol of the trickster! A silver-tongued
devil so to speak, their words like shining
velveteen going down your ears so easy - but
what do they MEAN?
Somebody you were pretty sure didn’t like you.
NOW what’s their game?
Do they think you're playing?
You get SO SICK
of taking compliments
this way.
insincerely or for real,
some poor probably socially
awkward person, trying their best
to make a favorable impression on you,
probably
botching something
they’re not particularly good at?
Are they sincerely fawning and really
believe you’re good? Or just
fake-fawning for obsequious reasons? Some
charming, wily cunning-tongued sort, mauve
of motive and spectacularly unfathomable,
inscrutable as a fox carved in living rock
- symbol of the trickster! A silver-tongued
devil so to speak, their words like shining
velveteen going down your ears so easy - but
what do they MEAN?
Somebody you were pretty sure didn’t like you.
NOW what’s their game?
Do they think you're playing?
You get SO SICK
of taking compliments
this way.
Hypotheticold
Sometimes I wonder, what
if I ran into my younger self?
What would I tell him?
Dude
I would be like
GROW UP.
IT'S EVERYTHING
it's cracked up to be
spaghetti every NIGHT
if you want, but
you won't
still.
Some dreams are sweet enough
to wake up from.
This one's gonna be
if I ran into my younger self?
What would I tell him?
Dude
I would be like
GROW UP.
IT'S EVERYTHING
it's cracked up to be
spaghetti every NIGHT
if you want, but
you won't
still.
Some dreams are sweet enough
to wake up from.
This one's gonna be
Already is.
I'm gonna make it
the way it is
It already is
It already I'm
Gonna make it
the way it is
It already is It already
All we gotta do is nothing!
Stand fast! Hold tight
Keep firm to the purposes
We're gonna make it
The way it is
CUI BONO!
Who benefits?
It's the status quo!
Get invested in, and
watch it not
grow, oh
no
We're gonna make it
The way it is.
the way it is
It already is
It already I'm
Gonna make it
the way it is
It already is It already
All we gotta do is nothing!
Stand fast! Hold tight
Keep firm to the purposes
We're gonna make it
The way it is
CUI BONO!
Who benefits?
It's the status quo!
Get invested in, and
watch it not
grow, oh
no
We're gonna make it
The way it is.
how to draw a dragon
first, get swept up
in the art of the moment and
by the time you get to the end,
you have a dragon. If you missed it
think about trying to do it step-by-step
backwards, which you could easily have done,
but it seemed dishonest somehow. So you thought,
"fuck it."
"Here there be DRAGON."
Always put your caption on first.
A bold statement of purpose, to guide
your muse
as you go. Note what you did here: first
typed the text out, then
cut and dragged the word DRAGON
to the bottom. This creates suspense
and provides a natural framing device
for the drama that unfurls
in the space between worlds.
Imagination and fantasy
are a natural combination: artifice
effortless and easily. Step 2.
As you can see,
The head. "Rough it in"
with some lines, drawing and redrawing
– eventually the design and contours
come out, and are settled on. Got one you like,
"trace over" those lines in a different color,
and erase the rest. Step 3.
The body. Similar. Many, many "roughed in"
contour lines, describing the sinuous curves
of the beast's serpentine form. Then
rounded contour lines, to fill it out
and add body. There it is! The body.
The reptilian impression of volume
is beguiling. Finally
Step 4. You add wings and limbs. Note
if only one limb is visible? (There
wasn't room for more, somehow) – this is a touch
of almost magical realism, it creates the illusion
that the other limb(s) go(es) out of sight
on the other side. Psychologically, this little
trompe l'oeil touch
makes the dragon seem almost enormous
in the viewer's mind.
Color. Step 5. This part's easy. After
you decide on that dark blue for the background,
you end up changing the color of the caption
TO RED
so it "pops."
STEP 5A. FIRE! Loose the pink
streaky-looking lightninglike lines
of the dragon's fire-breathing, and then
– in the single most complicated step –
'cut' the entire image
leaving only the blue background,
oops.
Ctrl-Z, can we back up? WHEW
It's back. Now that's
a dragon.
I think it ends up looking better that way,
arguably. Explosive. Ferocious. Step 6
Finishing details! Go to town
back to the head and add horns,
those stark "outlineless" white
snagglefangs, nostrils, and
– most ghastly of all –
glaring jet black eyes
with piercing red pupils
and rims. Shocking
If you actually screwed up
with a bucket fill and couldn't turn
the whites of the eyes back to white
without turning the whole dragon white?
That's how it ends up - an accident,
but an improvement! Leave the whites
of the eyes black, and what we're left with
is this stunning effect.
Those eyes turn my blood cold.
Perhaps the most important step
can sometimes be a mistake
in the art of the moment and
by the time you get to the end,
you have a dragon. If you missed it
think about trying to do it step-by-step
backwards, which you could easily have done,
but it seemed dishonest somehow. So you thought,
"fuck it."
"Here there be DRAGON."
Always put your caption on first.
A bold statement of purpose, to guide
your muse
as you go. Note what you did here: first
typed the text out, then
cut and dragged the word DRAGON
to the bottom. This creates suspense
and provides a natural framing device
for the drama that unfurls
in the space between worlds.
Imagination and fantasy
are a natural combination: artifice
effortless and easily. Step 2.
As you can see,
The head. "Rough it in"
with some lines, drawing and redrawing
– eventually the design and contours
come out, and are settled on. Got one you like,
"trace over" those lines in a different color,
and erase the rest. Step 3.
The body. Similar. Many, many "roughed in"
contour lines, describing the sinuous curves
of the beast's serpentine form. Then
rounded contour lines, to fill it out
and add body. There it is! The body.
The reptilian impression of volume
is beguiling. Finally
Step 4. You add wings and limbs. Note
if only one limb is visible? (There
wasn't room for more, somehow) – this is a touch
of almost magical realism, it creates the illusion
that the other limb(s) go(es) out of sight
on the other side. Psychologically, this little
trompe l'oeil touch
makes the dragon seem almost enormous
in the viewer's mind.
Color. Step 5. This part's easy. After
you decide on that dark blue for the background,
you end up changing the color of the caption
TO RED
so it "pops."
STEP 5A. FIRE! Loose the pink
streaky-looking lightninglike lines
of the dragon's fire-breathing, and then
– in the single most complicated step –
'cut' the entire image
leaving only the blue background,
oops.
Ctrl-Z, can we back up? WHEW
It's back. Now that's
a dragon.
I think it ends up looking better that way,
arguably. Explosive. Ferocious. Step 6
Finishing details! Go to town
back to the head and add horns,
those stark "outlineless" white
snagglefangs, nostrils, and
– most ghastly of all –
glaring jet black eyes
with piercing red pupils
and rims. Shocking
If you actually screwed up
with a bucket fill and couldn't turn
the whites of the eyes back to white
without turning the whole dragon white?
That's how it ends up - an accident,
but an improvement! Leave the whites
of the eyes black, and what we're left with
is this stunning effect.
Those eyes turn my blood cold.
Perhaps the most important step
can sometimes be a mistake
Saturday, February 01, 2020
Mistaken i dear
I fear you're not myself today,
dear. Pray
take deeper breath
and calm
myself, or if
you could -
your own. I trust
we shan't both
make it home.
But hell, if you
could straighten out
whoever ends up
without doubt
as to whose
pride
is placing
bets - I will
confess my guess
what's next,
and who
will end up
dressed
in which disguise,
and who'll pretend
to be
impressed.
dear. Pray
take deeper breath
and calm
myself, or if
you could -
your own. I trust
we shan't both
make it home.
But hell, if you
could straighten out
whoever ends up
without doubt
as to whose
pride
is placing
bets - I will
confess my guess
what's next,
and who
will end up
dressed
in which disguise,
and who'll pretend
to be
impressed.
your worst daydream
Who am I punk?
I'm your worst daydream
you think you can just waltz
away from the past? Well,
one
two three one
two three
just thought I'd ask.
Don't fret,
you'll be seeing me later
you ass.
I'm your worst daydream
you think you can just waltz
away from the past? Well,
one
two three one
two three
just thought I'd ask.
Don't fret,
you'll be seeing me later
you ass.
1-man ilk
I am haply
as it turns,
or sadly a one
-man ilk; I have
never met my like. I'm
indifferent to the fact,
in fact. I wouldn't mind
meeting someone like that.
It might be cool!
I don't mean I'm unique
(well, I am - everyone is
there's nothing fucking
special
about unique) but
in the flat intersection
of characteristic aspects,
I must admit
I am curious
in both senses, one of which
is peculiar. And
I expect I haven't
exactly met myself
coming or going. I can't be
entirely sure. It's funny
but I've only just noticed
now? I mean,
it always
seemed perfectly normal
to me.
Why wouldn't I be
like everyone else is
(apparently): nothing alike?
I expect
every one
to be more or less
oneself (their own
one's self, naturally
- not mine!) And
they aren't. Mine,
I mean. They more or less
are their own. Something
entirely strange to get
used to! New. A universe
I've never seen
behind the other's
eyes - and I guess,
mine too.
Funny
I never thought about that.
Point is,
aren't we all?
A spreading, manifold
multifarious ilk
radiating into
such night-identical
points of alienation, nothing
like
each other.
Or any other
other, at that
point.
as it turns,
or sadly a one
-man ilk; I have
never met my like. I'm
indifferent to the fact,
in fact. I wouldn't mind
meeting someone like that.
It might be cool!
I don't mean I'm unique
(well, I am - everyone is
there's nothing fucking
special
about unique) but
in the flat intersection
of characteristic aspects,
I must admit
I am curious
in both senses, one of which
is peculiar. And
I expect I haven't
exactly met myself
coming or going. I can't be
entirely sure. It's funny
but I've only just noticed
now? I mean,
it always
seemed perfectly normal
to me.
Why wouldn't I be
like everyone else is
(apparently): nothing alike?
I expect
every one
to be more or less
oneself (their own
one's self, naturally
- not mine!) And
they aren't. Mine,
I mean. They more or less
are their own. Something
entirely strange to get
used to! New. A universe
I've never seen
behind the other's
eyes - and I guess,
mine too.
Funny
I never thought about that.
Point is,
aren't we all?
A spreading, manifold
multifarious ilk
radiating into
such night-identical
points of alienation, nothing
like
each other.
Or any other
other, at that
point.
just same
I love you with a ferocity wildly
timid and shy, sly and blithe, dense
and opaque, oblivious and relentlessly
lucid and luminous, limpid and clear
and hard, clean and dry, and I
don't mean to pry, but do you
as well? Does this
describe us, or only
this one, this fool,
this guy? I
don't want to know, please
tell me why please
tell me this instant, so
I can finish before I start
to cry. You and me, baby
babe we were always
just same
and suddenly, I know
why
I think I know why. At least
I can try
to know why.
timid and shy, sly and blithe, dense
and opaque, oblivious and relentlessly
lucid and luminous, limpid and clear
and hard, clean and dry, and I
don't mean to pry, but do you
as well? Does this
describe us, or only
this one, this fool,
this guy? I
don't want to know, please
tell me why please
tell me this instant, so
I can finish before I start
to cry. You and me, baby
babe we were always
just same
and suddenly, I know
why
I think I know why. At least
I can try
to know why.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)