January 2012
1 post
December 2011
1 post
Partying on New Year's Eve?
Don’t drink and drive-and don’t ride with anybody who does. Tipsy Tow offered by AAA: you don’t have to be a AAA member, from 6pm-6am on New Years Eve/day, they will take your drunk self and your car home for FREE. Save this number… 1-800-222-4357. Please reblog this if you don’t mind.
November 2011
2 posts
October 2011
3 posts
READ THIS: Help pass Warren Buffett's idea to stop... →
nedhepburn:
“I could end the deficit in 5 minutes,” Warren told CNBC. “You just pass a law that says that anytime there is a deficit of more than 3% of GDP, all sitting members of Congress are ineligible for re-election. The 26th amendment (granting the right to vote for 18 year-olds) took only 3 months & 8…
August 2011
1 post
This is just some chronological potpourri of old...
July 2011
3 posts
“You used to keep me a secret
that nobody else could know.
It made me feel so alone,
but I’ll be damned if I let it show.
But now it’s like you hardly know me.
So I’ve been busy minding my own,
but I’m finding your finger prints
in some places they don’t belong.”
June 2011
19 posts
I'm the Devil's Daughter.
Oh, the counterfeit coins of my common currency!
The favors only done for reciprocal courtesy:
When I said, “Please,” you just wanted to hear my, “Thanks,” ;
collect that karma like a trust-fund baby’s bank.
It was just in your best interest:
Embezzling the dividends,
evading tolls and taxes.
Your ulterior motives
are seemingly victimless.
If nobody knows, it’s not a crime.
A tree...
On a lightrail ride from a plasma bank.
Once said a wiser man than I:
“…remember to live before you die.”
Well, if you’re dreaming half your life
and the Sandman sprinkles the rest of your time
over lucid landscaped mystery,
a potpourri of litanies,
then where must the beginning be,
if the end’s no end and the present is free?
So, am I doing this advice due justice
by living to live—or is that just selfish?
By loving to...
Make me a dove. I just want to be a dove.
The Poor Pidgeon story:
The jealous Love
of the divine dowry
of the Turtledove.
The cosmic kamikaze
of chanceless charm
holds his black sheep wedding
in a funeral home.
The blushing bride-to-be
can’t get the ring on.
The future’s out of reach,
or cradled like a still-born.
Is that hearse hereditary?
Are we born behind bars?
Providential poverty
professing faithless psalms?
If we...
1 tag
Well, the difference is simple if you think about...
If all of the ghosts of the women I have tasted and touched but never loved made a single-file line at my door, the impious parade would wrap ‘round my block.
Oh, invincible, immortal ingenue, you have no ghost!
Your noble knuckles will never take a turn, rapping at my gate. By the by, I’ll be sleeping with spectres
or suckling new souls into invisible incandescence.
My heart is an empty nest.
1 tag
Nowhere
With a bottle of vodka my lady left for me,
I learned to play all of the songs that make me weep.
I sang to the silence, stayed up way too late,
And woke up too early for another blue-collar day.
There are too many rats in this fucking cage!
I’m just another conjunction on history’s page.
Had an endless string of bad luck as of late.
But I miss your half-smile. I hope that you’re okay.
The...
1 tag
Scrambled, sunny-side up, over-easy, boiled, or...
Another war where the fruits of victory
taste like ashes between tongue and cheek.
The protestor’s spit is thicker than the bliss
of the soldier’s subordinate ignorance.
The big-whigs pick up the tab, but leave no tip.
These crumbs are too small for a mouse’s lips!
They swallow every scrap and call it: Service.
But, they’re always “right.” We’re just a waitress.
With hair-pulled back, this...
1 tag
Aren’t you so proud to be
the “Father of the Marshalsea”?
Your pity party is simply disgusting,
you failure.
I’m going blind, but I still see:
you’re pregnant with their charity.
It’s only enabling
your unjust self-loathing,
and it’s giving birth
to a dull, drowsy dirge.
Carelessly you take the reins,
and accept tidings
for their hollow entertainment.
You offer in return, well,...
The Birdfish (AEL) and Fishbird (MDG).
If you’re the yellow bird who doesn’t know how to swim,
I’m the fish who’d rather have wings than fins.
Well, I’ve got the answer to this star-crossed lament:
Let’s share our talents as both teacher and student!
With Time and Delight we will emote and evolve
until you’re more clownfish, and I’m more seagull.
Oh, to ruffle our feathers and propel our scales passed
the vehement vultures and...
She broke Bread...
I’m sorry, so sorry, dearest brother of mine.
You clothe me in cuffs, but I committed no crime.
I won the master bed. You’re on the livingroom cot.
I got what I always wanted and you, simply, did not.
I’m sorry, so sorry, solemn songbird, my son.
My only sunshine rises with me each dawn.
Your moon’s never harvest; it’s always crescent.
Her dark side: divisor. Your heart: the quotient.
I’m...
Seven-Year Skin (for You, Birdfish)
You’ve got your train-track therapy:
You go to get away, but never to leave.
Is it just a reminder that there’s somewhere else?
That the climate is different in each circle of Hell?
I’ve got my alley-cat history.
I fed upon mice just to wear their fleas.
Is it a withdrawal of hope for the Wishing Well?
I threw all my coins and then threw myself.
You’ve got your bridge-bound flattery:
A...
Passionate Paramedic
I’m putting a seatbelt in your bed
to keep you safe from your dream-wrecks.
I’d rather you buckle up with me instead,
with my heartbeat in your head
and two fingers on your neck:
an ever-present pulse check.
With a Passionate Paramedic’s love,
I’m your apple-a-day prescription.
I’m the Naughty Nurse that makes you come.
I’m the House-wife Hope that calls you Home.
Har. Har. Har.
Resolution Revolution
This is the beginning of a Revolution…
Now!
Awake! Escape from your aluminum dreams.
You’re sleepwalking, staring at your feet,
(Keep your chin up!)
cash-in-hand and tongue-in-cheek…
Minor chords and pointless wars…
You all look so bored…
You’re so fake!
Im shouting “Hey!
I don’t want to wait
on the Calm Conductor’s carousel of mistakes!”
Recycled hooks on the radio waves…
All the...
Doubtless Orpheus? (Embellished emotions as a...
The vague, the vast, the vehement vat!
This sinking boy needs your mermaid’s breath!
You taste like peach and lavender winds…
—-let my mouth dry out if I ne’er taste you again!
Let me be mute! No more minstrel or bard.
Without stories of you, I have a speechless heart.
My harp will weep so wan, the willows be concerned.
Autumn will be year-round—- except for in winter…
I’ll gouge my eyes,...
One week ago, I felt like this. Now, things...
The streets are dead, I just need a friend.
So, I high-five the red crosswalk hand.
I sing to the sewers and howl at the moon.
I’m yesterday’s paper’s new cartoon.
The sidewalk still sleeps. I just need a map.
There’s a treasured X in each crack that I step.
A few beers for breakfast and I’m sunny-side up
Im the trite-but-true slogan on your coffee cup.
Stream of (un)consciousness
I want to spit in your face.
You make me want to break my legs,
for they’re so accustomed to running away.
I want to shoot your piano.
You make me want to break my neck,
for it’s never been a fan of looking back.
I want to slash your tires.
You make me want to pry open my eyes.
They’ve been shut so long, I’m going blind.
I want to piss in your paint.
You make me want to crack my...
Wednesday Words (Part 1). Since then there's been...
The resinated end of the cigarettes I abuse
look like the excavated remains of my wax-paper blues.
Useless, stuck in sheets, like those empty balloons,
I’m starved for a feeling only brought on by you.
Corraling conversation from small or big screens,
the actors never say what my weeping ears need.
The friends never ask why I’m (finally) going crazy.
I’m addicted to Love (not of self)—-and...
Role Reversal.
We’ll see what’s really at stake
when we give the Bull the red cape.
Steal the sheers from the Man,
and he’ll cry, “Mercy me,” to the Lamb.
We’ll see who really fights fair,
when the Lion holds the Tamer’s chair.
The Show-Horse saddles the Cowgirl,
and wraps the reins in braids with her curls.
“Do unto others as you’d have done unto you,”
is just another saying
like a Hallmark Holiday...
Hell in a beer-battered shrimp basket.
Hell is some dive-bar that’s run out of booze,
and nobody knows they’re really drinking O’Doul’s.
So no one has a buzz or a good thing to say,
and the band’s out of tune, and the only song they can play
is “Hotel California” and they’re stuck on repeat.
and there’s no smoking inside, no pool tables or TV,
and the doors are all locked, and no one’s got the key.
You can cash out, “but you can...
January 2011
1 post
New demo of “Resolution:Revolution”
...
December 2010
4 posts
I’m not much of a fan of modern man.
I’ve got a white-flag warrior’s battle stance.
Chivalry ain’t dead—-it’s just sleeping:
Digital Dream, Electric Sheep counting…
I’m not much of a man, except in bed. I’ve got a silver tongue, a madman’s head, skin and bones, and blue-collar hands. My weak wallet can’t build your picket fence.
October 2010
2 posts
Well, he closed the road to Hell too. So, every path leads me to another saloon. These old boots are my hole-souled taxi cab. But, I’ll be your jukebox if you pick up my tab.
Well, he locked the gate to Eden.
So, I planted my own tree and
no fruit is forbidden to you.
I spit its seeds into every tune.
September 2010
1 post
1 tag
Buck-shot stars and blood-streak stripes:
It’s a heavy flag to fly. “Boy, that ain’t no kite!”
August 2010
1 post
1 tag
Out, damned spot!
Why, oh why? Must I perpetually fail?
Those snakes are always eating eachother’s tails.
I don’t need my fifteen minutes of fame;
I just don’t want another moment of shame, shame, shame.
“You’ve paid your dues, now ante up for your sins,”
that Good-Deed Gavel comes a-rappin’ again.
I’ve got that Bad Luck.
Out damned spot! Will my hands...
June 2010
1 post
The Fortune-teller, the Genie, and me.
No one goes to the fortune-teller; they’re afraid of what they’ll hear. The Past built the totems to which we’re tethered. Now, our foresight is not freedom; it’s just fear. No one goes to the fortune-teller; they’re afraid of what they’ll see. The Future floats like a fickle feather, but the end is inevitable to me.
So, kiss the ground and be thankful...
May 2010
1 post
1 tag
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wz-qWmd5dek&sns=em
Live video of a new acoustic song: “Man-Infested Destiny.”
The lyrics are posted on this good ol’ blog somewhere.
Dig?
April 2010
1 post
1 tag
The Pawn Shop Papa peddles Pride
You better watch that Pride;
you’re taking kindly to his kind.
He’s a thief in the night.
Yeah, he’ll suck the ol’ River dry.
With a mask of newsprint-papier mache
and a brass, good intent, toothy display
the old-buddy, do-gooder, freeway way…
But he’s a back-stabbin’, crooked-shootin’, son-of-a-HEY!
You better watch that Pride,
or...
March 2010
1 post
1 tag
Hey, Eric. Laugh?
I shuffled down the road to those Vegas lights
to trade aluminum for whiskey and wine.
Where the walls do not tell time,
I found another waifish woman with “far away eyes.”
Bluffing with a roulette smile,
she bet on black and lost it all.
Shooting like a star, now she’s Fortune’s fool;
I was a sure-fail gamble.
I warned you once that Love’s a loser’s...
January 2010
2 posts
Fake. Pray. Offend.
I ain’t no moon; I’m a bankrupt saloon, bathing in booze like a mutinous platoon! Hear the captain?! He croons. Hear the guilt in his tune: “What, oh, what did I do? I thought that I couldn’t lose.”
1 tag
Man-Infested Destiny
My country, tis of thee, wasteland of broken dreams,
Of thee I sing:
There’s a brand new house where a home should be.
There’s a strip-mall where the trees used to sleep.
And when they finally met the ground,
The city drowned out the sound;
Oh, silent screams!
There’s a schoolyard fight where we used to swing.
There’s a gospel choir who’s forgotten how to...
December 2009
1 post
1 tag
Curtain Call
This is all a curtain call,
a vagabond’s nightly bow.
Their spiraling span of attention serves no ovation
—-they’re not clapping; still the show must go on.
The show must go on.
This is all a note to self,
Liberty’s warning bell:
You may never achieve that selfish set of goals,
like a Christmas list you’ll never afford.
There’s a mirror in the music....
October 2009
1 post
PARTY!
We feel alright! Into a sea of lonely lovers we arrive, given decisions for the division of sight and mind: the lines combine ‘til everyone is smiling, blind. We feel alright! Whispering wisdom, knowing nods, and silent sighs… Your contradictions prove your fiction. (Some one starts a fight) …I’m calling a cease fire! You’re feeling down? Man, you’ll be fine....
August 2009
4 posts
Good Co.
How did we digress to this broken social scene: such seperate sound—-such idle comradery? Now, I’m not a lover or a fighter ——but I fight with such Love. Forgive but try not to forget to remember subtle sentiments. Let everyone be friend and kin! Let every conscience be cleansed! ‘Cause anger’s such a senseless affair, and regret won’t get you anywhere....
Record: Rufus Wainwright - Want Two It sounds like crushed velvet feels. Book: Tom Robbins - Still Life With Woodpecker In a society that is essentially designed to organize, direct, and gratify mass impulses, what is there to minister to the silent zones of man as an individual? Religion? Art? Nature? No, the church has turned religion into standardized public spectacle, and the museum has done...
The first installment of an (possibly) endless...
Record: Dr. Dog - Fate Just listen to it (in its entirety and in its intended order (please)). But, really, everything does sound better on vinyl. Book: Hunter S. Thompson - Kingdom of Fear “Who among us can be happy and proud of having all this innocent blood on our hands? Who are these swine? These flag-sucking half-wits who get fleeced and fooled by stupid little rich kids like George Bush?...