Thursday, January 31, 2008

The Shrink, shrunk

The invisible scrawlings etched between
the elaborate folds of living matter,
decipherable by only itself and wholly
responsible for emotions unselected,
undoubtedly the cause
Ones thoughts carried from place to place,
each culled somewhere, somehow
Unreadable to anyone but the priviledged host
may times offer the finest unwanted,
unprovoked afflictions
Feelings of foulness that continuously
scrape, abrading the soul cannot be merely wished
away nor can be forgotten, healthy neurons provide
the conduit for images of uncontrolled
unhealthy, fetid fear; sorry
Could a prestigious title following ones name
make thee a decipherer of the illegible
trappings held deep within
the pleated upholstery of our minds
if we ourselves cannot?

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Sorrows, drowned

Too often I approach
and try to correct
today's problems
Depending on a bottle
of any proof or sort
who gives a damn
As long as it will smooth
the tiresome days wrinkles
I want to forget

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Birds of Paradise

Birds of Paradise
Another day behind your iron drapes
ends with no vision of the moon, broken off like
an uncharted dirt road, knowing tomorrows journey will
again take you to nowhere
As you drift into the oblivion of darkness
again you see her standing, waving from the shoreline
in her hair, a red flower brilliant as
the sun you rarely see
Her hands as white as ivory, her fingers
delicate as
wisps of Pampas Grass swaying in the breeze
majestically beckon you to follow her home
to where you yearn to be once more
Behind her, the island stretches off the coast like
a garden of paradise awaiting your return and
your backbone rigid like a starched rope
reflects your building intent
As off in the distance you feel the crescendo nearing
the bicycle careening down the hill like
an out of control rocket on its way
to the stars you one day may again visit
She's as soft as just plucked down yet screams like
the crazy bird, its song like mournful trills sound the pleasure
of the approaching feeling of wholeness
and the pain of the plucking all in one
Dreams behind bars are all that you still have of your own
until you awaken. She spun off like a woman
desirous of rushing to meet the maker of
her soul that very instant
From the bunk above you hear his monotonous voice
every other morning that you must rise
and face the continuing existence of just one
more empty, sorrowful, drawn out part of a year
Who ever decided that jail in lieu of gas was less cruel
never spent a single minute in here, I'm sure
days pass like having the pleasure of an elephant sit on your chest
but oh, the nights are pure paradise

Sunday, January 27, 2008

A Cow, a pig and a lamb

It was that special time of year for Thump but the rest of the family hated it despite the full bellies it would provide later throughout the year. Each fall, it was time to slaughter a couple of animals which would be either frozen, canned or smoked for the coming winter and following year. Without this chore, there would definitely be a lack of meat on the Carson's dinner table yet there was never a time when anyone other than Thump enjoyed the fall, for this reason alone.

This was always turned into a family affair with each member helping in their own way. Molly the oldest of the children was given the charge of helping mom with the preparation of the meats, JD, the middle child was the son Thump was training to one day take over the farm. It was his responsibility, along with Thump to select which animals they were going to slaughter and actually do the deed of pulling the trigger. Thump thought that this was an honor for the boy yet JD felt like he was killing his pets; the kids had always become fond of the animals that they tended.

Terry, little Terry, had the responsibility of cleaning all of the miscellaneous "cutlery" that was used to do the butchering and a year never went by when this chore didn't make her sick to her stomach but like a good girl, she complied. All of the kids used to complain to both of their parents that they didn't want to partake in this family event but it didn't matter; after all they were children of a farmer, what did they expect. "They weren't no city kids, they had to know the importance of it!"

As each of them grew old enough to leave, they did just that in the hopes of never having to do anything but buy their food again. When momma and paw eventually died the farm was sold and now if you drive down past Thompson's Creek where the farm was at one time you can spy a sea of houses in all miscellaneous shapes, sizes and colors. The funniest part though is that all three kids now miss the lives they led on the farm. Since moving to the big city, they sometimes feel like the livestock they once owned, seemingly moving in herds and always looking over their shoulders waiting for the slaughter.

Thursday, January 24, 2008


The stinging pain is incomplete
til' I hold you in my arms
tis' then your vice gets hold of me
you use your wily charms

I feel that you are what I need
despite my inner plea
you use your wily charms
tis' then your vice gets hold of me

Just when I'm ripe to forget you
stop swallowing your harms
tis' then your vice gets hold of me
you use your wily charms

If I could only let you go
that day I would be free
you use your wily charms
tis' then your vice gets hold of me

Wednesday, January 23, 2008


Todays exhalations
feed the trees of tomorrow
whos scattered seeds
produce todays breath.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Thankfully gone

When I was a child
of eleven years
the other kids would jeer
When a child of thirteen years I wanted to disappear
When I was a child
of seventeen
I no longer showed my fear
When a child of nineteen years I became a black marketeer
When I was a child
of twenty one
my life began to veer
When a child of twenty three I screwed up that whole year
When I was a child
of twenty four
I let them interfere
When a child of Twenty Six I wished I wasn't here
When I was a child
of Thirty Two
I cried in my last beer
When a child of Thirty Five I thought I had your ear
When I was a child
of Thirty Eight
I thought our love was dear
When a child of Forty One three words I longed to hear
When I was a child
of Forty Four
I swore it all looked clear
When a child of Forty Six I wished I knew a seer
When I was a child
of Forty Eight
I slipped down in first gear
Now a child of Forty Nine I just yearn for.........a peer.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Decisions, decisions, decisions....

Here's another site, gratis of Paisley and her "ink pot", and I really had a lot of fun with this one - Mad Kanes Humor Blog - Limerick and Haiku prompt

She wakes up, ponders, rolls over
yo yo's between honey and clover
decides if she prefers sweet
or a trek to the street
Does she really need rise and walk Rover "haiku"

She wanted a pet
but was unsure of its care
oh what decisions

Stayin' alive

This was a prompt from Writing Companion where you are asked to write something using a song title as your title. I chose to use one of the songs that were supplied.

Inspired by the title - Stayin' Alive - The Bee Gees

Hanging from the wall of life
nails dug deeply in
cringing as you feel each grain
bouncing off your chin
Trying to remain aloft
kicking with your feet
wondering what it would be like
underneath a sheet
In your head just dangling there
death you do contrive
you fight so hard to let go
why do you stay alive?

Blue is the enemy

Earthly pleasures faded years past
time no more than a jail
allowing thoughts of fleeting sanity
to graze by hourly
telling you of the impossible recovery

Momentarily remembering lost youth
the days taken for granted
a collage of sorrowful misfortunes too
laid out before your mind
wishing for the movie to end

Ears ringing louder with each breath
mask the beeping machines
your tired eyes want to forever close
begging to forget your world
now is not the time to place blame

Across the room you vaguely see
a team responding to the code
paddles banging as you whimper
leave him be he's better off
they know not the pain he's bore

The last attempt, the time is called
he's no longer of this plane
the only feeling that you have
is jealousy for the lucky man
it should have been your flat line

Friday, January 18, 2008


The polished
gravel orb
caused the limpid
to swirl
in an orbitular
as it settled
to the nethermost
of life

Mickeys Challenge

Mickey Porazzo had a project all mapped out for that Tuesday. It seemed as though it was going to be a simple procedure, one that he had seen done before and knew, just knew, that he would be able to accomplish it with ease. Mickey had never been what you would call "handy" but there was always the spark in him to get things done on his own rather than pay someone else to do it. Perhaps it's because the man who raised him, his father, could do just about anything he needed or wanted to do with his hands or maybe it was the fact that Mickey was as he called himself, frugal; I don't think even Mickey himself knew the true reason except he loved a challenge and deep down knew he was "cheap".
It started with a trip to the home improvement center where he was going to purchase that wood slat fencing that they had been advertising "on sale". He had made sure to borrow a pickup truck the night before and had gone out of his way to be sure that he had all of the tools he thought he was going to need. The only thing he himself didn't have was a post hole digger and lucky for him the neighbor who had lent him the truck had one and was willing to lend that as well.
He explained what his intentions were to the sales associate, gave him some dimensions, and was quickly taken to the racks that housed the fences. He selected the merchandise he needed, had the cement and gravel loaded into the bed of the pickup and was on his way back to begin his project in just under an hour. This was going to be a piece of cake he thought to himself as he drove home.
After unloading everything he began with measurements since the first step was going to be digging the holes. He carefully measured out the distance between posts and began digging the holes along the property line all the while contemplating his next step. Once the holes were dug he decided to lay out the panels to be absolutely sure that the holes and panels matched and sure enough they did. He filled the holes with some gravel as a base and raised the first panel which easily slid into place. The second panel slid in easily as well and he was well on his way to getting this done. Around the time that he slid the fourth panel into it's base he realized that the second panel had been put in backwards. This meant reversing the process until he was back at number two which could then be reversed and set properly.
After completing the fix and continuing onto the sixth panel, Mickey now looked back to see that the fourth panel was not like the others at all. It was then that he realized that panel number four was not the same as the rest and had to be replaced. Once again he backtracked, removing panels six and five and swapping out panel four for a correct, matching panel and then moving on to replace five and six again.
He had nine panels in total and after placing number eight he put the mismatched panel back in the pickup and headed for the store to get its replacement. Quick apologies and a reload had Mickey once again on his way home. As he pulled the pickup as close to the rear yard as he could he glanced over at his fence only to discover that what he had thought was perfect looked like a herd of camels with up and down humps along the course; it was apparent that some of the holes hadn't been dug to the right depth. Once again all of the panels had to be removed, the gravel had to be withdrawn, the holes re-measured and the depth corrected. Gravel was once again placed in the holes and the panels one by one replaced.
As the ninth panel was slid into place, out of the corner of his eye Mickey could see the first panel listing. Perhaps it was all of the manipulation of the soil but as he walked towards it to straighten it the panel fell over pulling all of the others down with it! He was getting mighty frustrated by now as you can well imagine. It took him another two hours to mend the holes and re set the fence which this time he propped with 2X4's. He once again examined everything and it looked pretty good to him; time for the cement. He walked to the driveway where he had left the bags of quick drying cement and with ease hoisted one to his left shoulder. As he was walking to the fence he could feel the weight on his shoulder decrease along with hearing an almost instant "Whoosh" sound. The bag had ripped open and cement was all over the ground and covered his back as well.
He was now disgusted. He threw the empty cement bag across the yard, turned and began kicking at the mound of cement which sent dust flying everywhere! He trudged into the house leaving everything where it was, grabbed the phone book and flipped page after page until he found what he was looking for. When the other line was answered Mickey felt a wave of relief as he heard "Charlie's Handyman Service, can I help you?". An appointment was made for an estimate late that afternoon and Mickey was thrilled. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and plopped in his favorite chair, grabbed his daughters Rubik's Cube off of the coffee table and thought to himself...This has got to be easier! Little did he know that he had been warming up for this all day!

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Step Right Up!

Papa swore the pin head boy
was natures own reject
Mama claimed the bearded gal
was famed by mere neglect
Grandpa said the giant man
was purely statuesque
Grandma squealed the midget horse
was horribly grotesque
The turtle man an amputee
was surely out of place
On his cart with metal wheels
and pulled by a shoelace
The chemistry of the whole cast
was aided by the tent
Their faces had the creases of
those who feigned torment
The conjoined twins used as the hook
were often misconstrued
As two young girls who did not hide
a tryst, an interlude
No matter what the patrons screamed
the players they did know
This was their way to pay the rent
star in their own side show

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Erik Fish

...a found poem
What displeases you
is the root of all evil,
to never be complete
summer backstroke relay
alongside medly
The bronze native
was called a scholar,
parents obey their children
and competed for
courting new impressions

courtesy of:

Saturday, January 5, 2008

Old bequeaths New

When we think of the word new and the connotations it brings to mind we would never in a million years think that a new life could exist for our bodies right here on earth after we die. Many different thoughts exist as to where our "souls", our "energy" goes after death but for the most part it is presumed that our bodies will be no longer.

For the past five years I have wanted to see the exhibition of Gunther von Hagens' "BodyWorlds...The Anatomical Exhibition of Real Human Bodies" and for some reason or another I've each time missed it. There were two times before today when I was in the location where it was being shown (Los Angeles 5 years ago and Las Vegas earlier this year) but never got the opportunity...until today.

On a recent post on my other blog, my original, "Deathsweeping", a comment was left which mentioned "BodyWorlds" and after reading it I decided to check out where they currently were. To my surprise, not only was the exhibition just a few hours from where I live but tomorrow was the last day it was being shown! I immediately purchased tickets online, secured a hotel room for the night and within an hour was on my way to see it.

It was truly fascinating to see what I see almost daily from the inside out; the human body is a marvel. What really amazed me however were the number of people who were also curious to see this exhibition. I didn't know how popular it was until I saw them letting in 125 people every 15 minutes. The other thought that I had after seeing the show was that these bodies, these people, who had donated themselves to Plastination had a "NEW" purpose. No longer living, breathing beings, yet evoking new thoughts, granting new experiences and providing new education to the minds of the living.

This may seem an odd take on the topic of the week however it's obvious that new is extremely relative and can take on different meanings for different people. I certainly wouldn't mind donating my body to this process after I no longer have a use for it's old bones. Just think how great it would be to know that you could continue to be the wind that fans the spark of just one new thought, one new experience, one new wow!

Friday, January 4, 2008

Drown me

That night I first met you
I had not a thought,
that you'd be the one
my partner for life
You shone like a beacon
and lit up the room,
and acted as if
you never knew strife
My eyes were not open
not searching for you,
you walked in the door
like you owned the house
No make-up no lipstick
not hiding at all,
especially with
that peek-a-boo blouse
As quick as you entered
you said your goodbyes,
walked into the night
not seen for some years
I had not a feeling
to want to see you,
your leaving was fine
it brought me no tears
Those days are now over
when I didn't care,
the times when I thought
I didn't need you
Replaced with the feelings
of love that are real,
now happiest when
I'm drenched in your dew

You reap what you sow

The vellum book housed
on the high altar
it's tales so highly purported.
Known once to all as
thee holy psalter
it's value was somehow distorted.
One day it just vanished
into the moss
of a bog beneath Fadden More.
The book of fiction was
thought to be lost
found the year that they did explore.
It caused us that time
to reminisce
about that age so long ago.
How pages so dear
could go amiss
perhaps they were trying to sow.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Where's the remote?

I wish on my sleeve
I wore a rewind or a
fast forward button

Instead of my heart
with dirty marks of no luck
and lack of control

I would be able
to revisit happiness;
not have to pretend

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Every Other Weekend

Country music has a way of making the most stoic want to sob. In my opinion it is the most heartfelt genre there is ...I love it. This is a good song that I'm glad I was able to find on youtube...share with me. It could be worse right?