Sunday, October 18, 2009

throwback blog. woo! let me know you read this, if in fact you do!

From this balcony, I can see the world
as i know it lately.
The bustling life that is college moves about below,
like a riot:
people running to and from the fight,
leaving for a while to rest, and
to take up arms again, later.
Calculating clouds mourn overhead
as people button their jackets and tie their scarves below.
Leisurely, is what it is,
the cold prodding the passerbys.
Now it's night,
and the splendid lights from a million
college flats and shacks twinkles between
the trees.
The cacophony of the unstoppable young
sits like haze over the town.
I sit in a broken lawn chair,
sipping my cigarette.
I look like like Kurt Vonnegut right now,
I think,
with my bent filter,
sizing up the world,
as i know it.
I feel aged and satisfied
with my woes and successes,
all piled up in a shopping cart on the street,
pushing, always pushing,
smelling of beer and cigarettes like all
the bums on every corner across this country.
And even as the peace settles over 
my young ragged body,
the beat of another tomorrow,
no not one, many tomorrows
pounds through the walls and through my chest.
What a splendid world it is indeed,
to die a million times every day,
and to be born again, to live, then to die,
then to exist once more.
The fire-bright stars sing to me tonight, 
held up by the glue of the world. 

Thursday, June 11, 2009

you are so perfect in my mind.
i know that you aren't perfect, but i don't mind. 

Saturday, May 23, 2009

I've been thinking a lot lately,
about life 
and love and the like, 
(a term lost on me thus far).
and the pursuit thereof.
I witness people in the midst of it,
I mean knee deep in the stuff,
and I can appreciate it
(I do really!)
but I don't really get it,
seriously.
I imagine it to be a state of mind
not at all unlike going out-of-doors on a perfect day
and enjoying the sun
and colors 
and the grandeur of it all,
When
I can be a do-nothing
and be alright with it,
just sitting around
basking in the stuff.
But there are sometimes it just seems
like killing time,
waiting for something to happen.
But
this begs the question,
What takes precedence over this?
If this is not how we're are to squander life,
then how?
It's possible
I'm not cut out for the job,
doomed to live a single existence.
(I'm fine with that I guess, really I can be.)
But I don't know man,
I'm just rambling.

To clarify,
I believe love
or whatever
to be a stronger force than my
appreciation of the out-of-doors,
every single day of the week.
And life is a series of bus passes,
our job is to make our transfers and get where we're going.

Monday, April 13, 2009

me,
(and everyone else, really)
are led to believe that after seven hours of working 
straight on anything,
you start to go a little crazy.
and
well,
this may be true an all, 
but it all i want to do is work harder
and longer
and then i get caught up and 
forget about everything
and everyone. 
I had to slice a part of my finger off with a blade,
by accident, honest
to slow down and chill.
my finger wouldn't stop gushing
and i bled all over my long hard work
almost.
***
i stand outside smoking another cigarette
waiting to talk to someone.
it's surprising calm outside and i hear a lonely
drip
dripping.
it's the drain pipe, with stale drops of water
falling all the way from the top.
We talk.
it goes well, 
well,
as best as it could, 
which is better than i thought.
i chew some gum to get rid of the tobacco taste
but it cuts right through 
peeling the paint from the inside of my head.
***
i'm playing piano now,
lots of chords,
a big cluster-fuck of the whole goddam scale
which dissipates 
into a bass driven run across all the keys,
all of them.
my bloody fingers busts open again
and my tracks are left
like paw prints
across my favorite keys.
***
i'm showering, finally.
on the bathroom radio,
a mix from my friend plays.
this one,
it's saved my days often,
and now it's working again.
the warm water is it's own reference point in my day.
i enjoy the water as best i can
as music from far away echoes around the room.
Now it's bob dylan.
"simple twist of fate!
it's just a simple twist a fate!!!"
this is the cleanest i will feel for a while
because when i get out of the shower,
my fingers will still smell like cigarettes. 
***
but listen, 
i made a new mix today,
  a really good one,
which works almost as well as the other.
i'm listening to it often, maybe i'll send it to someone.
yea, maybe i'll do that. 

Sunday, March 29, 2009

"the city is a million miles away"
mirah tells me.
and really,
she's right. 
(in lots of different ways.)
i'm riding my crappy 80's road bike
around the outskirts of town
(which isn't as far as it sounds.)
it's the darkest shade of night,
as i duck in and out of street lights,
escaping lots of things.
with the recent purchase of my bike
comes the recent option for escape
from the dorm rooms and den chairs
that occupy my nights,
from the campus riddled with buildings 
which have nothing to do with me 
and only a handful that I frequent,
from the main campus drag 
with the gas station 
and twenty four seven copy shop.
so i'm not there.
i'm here, 
on my bike.
and i'm thinking this:
i wish i had a process of disambiguation.
and conversely, ambiguation.
i'm patenting that shit,
if i ever figure it out. 
see,
some things 
(like school work 
and my pseudo-librarian job)
make all too much sense.
and the goal is known.
i wish i could reinterpret these things,
and prioritize as i please.
maybe, 
i'm just getting society's morals pushed upon me,
like being forced into a body bag. 
maybe.
Also,
some things need
and deserve
an answer.
some people deserve an answer
(including me!)
but really,
i think i'm supposed to come up with
the answers and the like.
woops. 
Cigarettes and ibuprofen are saving my life
and killing me all at the same time.
and short brisk walks to and from 
here and there
and a poorly planned stairwell 
create an all to obvious
(and awkward)
divergence.
speaking of which,
i'm off the main road and 
riding down the windy bike path
skirting the watching eyes of,
well,
no one in particular. 
"so simple, yet so complex"
mirah sings on.
i wish i could ride my bike all day long.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Nostalgic romances that I never had,
to the tune of 80's pop songs,
are rolling in and out of my head.
Not at all unlike
the thunder outside on this
stormy night.
Man, thunder 
really knows how to move
in this state.
Thunder 
really knows how to get down.
Doncha kno?

Tuesday, March 10, 2009