Pedro the lion---
bedhead
hayden
sebadoh
Unwed Sailor
Roadside Monument
elliot smith--
heatmiser
Monday, June 22, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
you that are is. poetry and the past.
an intro to poetry by e.e. cummings
The poems to come are for you and for me and are not for mostpeople-- it's no use trying to pretend that mostpeople and ourselves are alike. Mostpeople have less in common with ourselves than the squarerootofminusone. You and I are human beings;mostpeople are snobs. Take the matter of being born. What does being born mean to mostpeople? Catastrophe unmitigated. Socialrevolution. The cultured aristocrat yanked out of his hyperexclusively ultravoluptuous superpalazzo,and dumped into an incredibly vulgar detentioncamp swarming with every conceivable species of undesirable organism. Mostpeople fancy a guaranteed birthproof safetysuit of nondestructible selflessness. If mostpeople were to be born twice they'd improbably call it dying--
you and I are not snobs. We can never be born enough. We are human beings;for whom birth is a supremely welcome mystery,the mystery of growing:which happens only and whenever we are faithful to ourselves. You and I wear the dangerous looseness of doom and find it becoming. Life,for eternal us,is now'and now is much to busy being a little more than everything to seem anything,catastrophic included.
Life,for mostpeople,simply isn't. Take the socalled standardofliving. What do mostpeople mean by "living"? They don't mean living. They mean the latest and closest plural approximation to singular prenatal passivity which science,in its finite but unbounded wisdom,has succeeded in selling their wives. If science could fail,a mountain's a mammal. Mostpeople's wives could spot a genuine delusion of embryonic omnipotence immediately and will accept no substitutes.
-luckily for us,a mountain is a mammal. The plusorminus movie to end moving,the strictly scientific parlourgame of real unreality,the tyranny conceived in misconception and dedicated to the proposition that every man is a woman and any woman is a king,hasn't a wheel to stand on. What their synthetic not to mention transparent majesty, mrsandmr collective foetus,would improbably call a ghost is walking. He isn't a undream of anaesthetized impersons, or a cosmic comfortstation,or a transcedentally sterilized lookiesoundiefeelietastiesmellie. He is a healthily complex,a naturally homogenous,citizen of immorality. The now of his each pitying free imperfect gesture,his any birth of breathing,insults perfected inframortally milleniums of slavishness. He is a little more than everything,he is democracy;he is alive:he is ourselves.
Miracles are to come. With you I leave a remembrance of miracles: they are somebody who can love and who shall be continually reborn,a human being;somebody who said to those near him,when his fingers would not hold a brush "tie it to my hand"--
nothing proving or sick or partial. Nothing false,nothing difficult or easy or small or colossal. Nothing ordinary or extraordinary,nothing emptied or filled,real or unreal;nothing feeble and known or clumsy and guessed. Everywhere tints childrening,innocent spontaneaous,true. Nowhere possibly what flesh and impossibly such a garden,but actually flowers which breasts are amoung the very mouths of light. Nothing believed or doubted;brain over heart, surface:nowhere hating or to fear;shadow,mind without soul. Only how measureless cool flames of making;only each other building always distinct selves of mutual entirely opening;only alive. Never the murdered finalities of wherewhen and yesno,impotent nongames of wrongright and rightwrong;never to gain or pause,never the soft adventure of undoom,greedy anguishes and cringing ecstasies of inexistence;never to rest and never to have;only to grow.
The poems to come are for you and for me and are not for mostpeople-- it's no use trying to pretend that mostpeople and ourselves are alike. Mostpeople have less in common with ourselves than the squarerootofminusone. You and I are human beings;mostpeople are snobs. Take the matter of being born. What does being born mean to mostpeople? Catastrophe unmitigated. Socialrevolution. The cultured aristocrat yanked out of his hyperexclusively ultravoluptuous superpalazzo,and dumped into an incredibly vulgar detentioncamp swarming with every conceivable species of undesirable organism. Mostpeople fancy a guaranteed birthproof safetysuit of nondestructible selflessness. If mostpeople were to be born twice they'd improbably call it dying--
you and I are not snobs. We can never be born enough. We are human beings;for whom birth is a supremely welcome mystery,the mystery of growing:which happens only and whenever we are faithful to ourselves. You and I wear the dangerous looseness of doom and find it becoming. Life,for eternal us,is now'and now is much to busy being a little more than everything to seem anything,catastrophic included.
Life,for mostpeople,simply isn't. Take the socalled standardofliving. What do mostpeople mean by "living"? They don't mean living. They mean the latest and closest plural approximation to singular prenatal passivity which science,in its finite but unbounded wisdom,has succeeded in selling their wives. If science could fail,a mountain's a mammal. Mostpeople's wives could spot a genuine delusion of embryonic omnipotence immediately and will accept no substitutes.
-luckily for us,a mountain is a mammal. The plusorminus movie to end moving,the strictly scientific parlourgame of real unreality,the tyranny conceived in misconception and dedicated to the proposition that every man is a woman and any woman is a king,hasn't a wheel to stand on. What their synthetic not to mention transparent majesty, mrsandmr collective foetus,would improbably call a ghost is walking. He isn't a undream of anaesthetized impersons, or a cosmic comfortstation,or a transcedentally sterilized lookiesoundiefeelietastiesmellie. He is a healthily complex,a naturally homogenous,citizen of immorality. The now of his each pitying free imperfect gesture,his any birth of breathing,insults perfected inframortally milleniums of slavishness. He is a little more than everything,he is democracy;he is alive:he is ourselves.
Miracles are to come. With you I leave a remembrance of miracles: they are somebody who can love and who shall be continually reborn,a human being;somebody who said to those near him,when his fingers would not hold a brush "tie it to my hand"--
nothing proving or sick or partial. Nothing false,nothing difficult or easy or small or colossal. Nothing ordinary or extraordinary,nothing emptied or filled,real or unreal;nothing feeble and known or clumsy and guessed. Everywhere tints childrening,innocent spontaneaous,true. Nowhere possibly what flesh and impossibly such a garden,but actually flowers which breasts are amoung the very mouths of light. Nothing believed or doubted;brain over heart, surface:nowhere hating or to fear;shadow,mind without soul. Only how measureless cool flames of making;only each other building always distinct selves of mutual entirely opening;only alive. Never the murdered finalities of wherewhen and yesno,impotent nongames of wrongright and rightwrong;never to gain or pause,never the soft adventure of undoom,greedy anguishes and cringing ecstasies of inexistence;never to rest and never to have;only to grow.
we,
in the days of football reconnection
in human continuity because following is really
what is
whats most, so even.
my toes are new orleans.
the sign downstairs is i wish you'd come make my bed.
just so.
i could sit.
in the days of football reconnection
in human continuity because following is really
what is
whats most, so even.
my toes are new orleans.
the sign downstairs is i wish you'd come make my bed.
just so.
i could sit.
back in a town of front porch lights,
broken bicycle hands touching the
one thing,
and only with
motor lodge accomplishments,
I prayed for that.
broken bicycle hands touching the
one thing,
and only with
motor lodge accomplishments,
I prayed for that.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
so many times with so many girls
but oh that one with the bright blonde curls
i lost my wallet and with every day
you lose all these things and thats ok.
living in a house so but with quiet as a mouse
and i hear tiny parts explode
and in jet planes and part of that mode,
only there dumb and found
walking down down down
and so it will slowly
and so it will be near those sweetest things.
and stop stop stop
and start start let it in this house
for so long and
when running hard down wet roads
take all these heavy heavy loads
and just let me breathe.
and what was
and what was here for me.
and when i
and when i came here for this
and when i worked
and when i worked my hands to the bone
i walked alone.
i walked alone.
so slow.
30 to 49 minutes
walking to the gorcery store,
and in store. m
but oh that one with the bright blonde curls
i lost my wallet and with every day
you lose all these things and thats ok.
living in a house so but with quiet as a mouse
and i hear tiny parts explode
and in jet planes and part of that mode,
only there dumb and found
walking down down down
and so it will slowly
and so it will be near those sweetest things.
and stop stop stop
and start start let it in this house
for so long and
when running hard down wet roads
take all these heavy heavy loads
and just let me breathe.
and what was
and what was here for me.
and when i
and when i came here for this
and when i worked
and when i worked my hands to the bone
i walked alone.
i walked alone.
so slow.
30 to 49 minutes
walking to the gorcery store,
and in store. m
Friday, March 27, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
MAKE MOVES.
quiet libraries breed raging thoughts.
sometimes, for me, like this.
and then i realize that raging thoughts are good,
and should be directed in productivity accordingly, as such.
mostly
or when its warm
or
this
or
mostly this
STAY PRODUCTIVE
STICK TO YOUR GOALS
SAVE CASH.
MAKE MOVES.
sometimes, for me, like this.
and then i realize that raging thoughts are good,
and should be directed in productivity accordingly, as such.
mostly
or when its warm
or
this
or
mostly this
STAY PRODUCTIVE
STICK TO YOUR GOALS
SAVE CASH.
MAKE MOVES.
post-narrative, - the most metal gift ever, NOTHINGGGGGGG
2 17 am
stationary store to say hello to kate.
went by the restaurant to snag tips.
made fun of the boss.
got a free soda and piece of cornbread.
got stoked taking the trolley back home thinking about the website idea.
walked home.
started drawing and started my next batch of letters.
geeked out with morgan and justin.
went to a jazz concert that didnt exist.
did pretend karaoke.
listened to some pedro the lion.
wrote a poem.
drank a forty, got stoned, ate food.
talked to ellen.
good day off.
not in the least bit functional or productive.
(breath)
stationary store to say hello to kate.
went by the restaurant to snag tips.
made fun of the boss.
got a free soda and piece of cornbread.
got stoked taking the trolley back home thinking about the website idea.
walked home.
started drawing and started my next batch of letters.
geeked out with morgan and justin.
went to a jazz concert that didnt exist.
did pretend karaoke.
listened to some pedro the lion.
wrote a poem.
drank a forty, got stoned, ate food.
talked to ellen.
good day off.
not in the least bit functional or productive.
(breath)
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
the thoughts of youth are long long thoughts.
the universe has not yet beckoned.
george elliot
its a summer night and everything flung wide open.
henry miller
who am i but my own past?
katherine mansfield
to stare down the years.
katherine mansfiled.
(the thoughts of youth are long long thoughts)
(i am tired. i am a genius. you are tired. you are a genius!)
that a life this mess can be!
jay farrar
Inaudible dreams!
coleridge
a child said, what is the grass
walt whitman
but: light glistens off my teary face.
phil elvrum
I see a wild civility,-
robert herrick
I am unable to distinguish between the feeling I have for life and my way of expressing it.
-Henri Matisse
It loved to happen.
-Marcus Aurelius
"I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself." - D. H. Lawrence (1885-1930) English Author
not all those who wander are lost.
J.R. Tolkein
"We are unusual and tragic and alive."
— Dave Eggers
"I see colors like you hear jet planes."
— Dave Eggers (How We Are Hungry
george elliot
its a summer night and everything flung wide open.
henry miller
who am i but my own past?
katherine mansfield
to stare down the years.
katherine mansfiled.
(the thoughts of youth are long long thoughts)
(i am tired. i am a genius. you are tired. you are a genius!)
that a life this mess can be!
jay farrar
Inaudible dreams!
coleridge
a child said, what is the grass
walt whitman
but: light glistens off my teary face.
phil elvrum
I see a wild civility,-
robert herrick
I am unable to distinguish between the feeling I have for life and my way of expressing it.
-Henri Matisse
It loved to happen.
-Marcus Aurelius
"I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself." - D. H. Lawrence (1885-1930) English Author
not all those who wander are lost.
J.R. Tolkein
"We are unusual and tragic and alive."
— Dave Eggers
"I see colors like you hear jet planes."
— Dave Eggers (How We Are Hungry
"We lose weeks like buttons, like pencils."
— Dave Eggers (A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius)
— Dave Eggers (A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius)
Thursday, February 12, 2009
start of kids on pabst blue sofas and if how bicycles could laern to talk.
this is a story about kids. Kids on Pabst blue sofas, covered in socital waste and breeding lackluster generational creativity. I think I spent more time staring off into space than acutally writing this fucking whatever it is. whatever it was, whatever it wasn't. Small mechaical genius congealing with so-so productivity to create everything was my life for a short while.
and i still carry it with me.
i carry it with me in my blood soaked sweat soaked sex soaked caps.
Elliot smith has got nothing on the bitterweet making moves of a post-excited genteration of fed-up fatal fleecing angst called, my life as a teenage human being in 2008.
Eat shit Dostoyevsky, bon iver's got my back.
and i still carry it with me.
i carry it with me in my blood soaked sweat soaked sex soaked caps.
Elliot smith has got nothing on the bitterweet making moves of a post-excited genteration of fed-up fatal fleecing angst called, my life as a teenage human being in 2008.
Eat shit Dostoyevsky, bon iver's got my back.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
things i need to figure out.
-a lisence
-the car
-a place to live asap
-a place to live for summer
-an extra job
-my credit.
things i want
-bike wheels and handlebars
-guitar strings
-new shoes
-new shirts
options for summer
-live back in richmond
live with dad
live with gran gran
couch surf
find a room
sign a lease (long term commitment) 6 months or a year
have to find at least 1 solid job
MAJOR REASON: chill with friends while they are still there and enjoy life.
DOWNFALL: gettting sucked back in and not doing anything with my life.
DETERMINING FACTOR: living situation and job.
-stay in cville find a place and keep working
have to find a place to live for the summer, maybe longer?
be kinda lonely
continue trying to save money for much bigger move or step
if i can get the car, much more bearable
job security
picking up and going somewhere AGAIN.
MAJOR REASON: saving money and job security
DOWNFALL: being lonely, being stagnate
DETERMINING FACTOR: monetary situation closer to may. getting a second job. finding a place to live
-move somewhere else ( the next step)
continuing the process
money will be tight
whose to say i wont be more lonely?
finding a job
being in the unfamiliar
finding a cheap living space
not having enough money to really do it comfortably.
where would i go?
philly
new york
nashville
charleston
somewhere near the beach or ocean
MAJOR REASON: continuing the process of self exploration
DOWNFALL: could be too soon, financially wise.
DETERMINING FACTOR: money situation closer to may. job. living situation.
-Live back in richmond and go to school/ work
find a job.
find a place to live, gran gran, dad, couch, sign a lease more than likely
get back into the school mode
do all this shit AFTER i graduate.
MAJOR REASON: friends and getting my ass back in school
DOWNFALL: really not living up to what i always thought i would do when i stopped going to school. its like i;m submitting to the systematic track and not really living my dreams.
DETERMINING FACTOR: job. living situation. if i can GET back in school. DO I WANT TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL.
-be reckless
go do woofing in some far away country with no money but to get there.
same thing with workaway
sell all my shit and back a duffel bag and travel in my car, hopefully trying to find odd jobs when i run out of money
bike across the country. try and work for money along the way
MAJOR REASON: submitting myself to life and not giving a shit. verry appealing.
DOWNFALL: being homeless, not having money. maybe not food.
DETERMINING FACTOR: really isnt one, only if i just decide to say fuck it all. i could do this anytime i want really.
-a lisence
-the car
-a place to live asap
-a place to live for summer
-an extra job
-my credit.
things i want
-bike wheels and handlebars
-guitar strings
-new shoes
-new shirts
options for summer
-live back in richmond
live with dad
live with gran gran
couch surf
find a room
sign a lease (long term commitment) 6 months or a year
have to find at least 1 solid job
MAJOR REASON: chill with friends while they are still there and enjoy life.
DOWNFALL: gettting sucked back in and not doing anything with my life.
DETERMINING FACTOR: living situation and job.
-stay in cville find a place and keep working
have to find a place to live for the summer, maybe longer?
be kinda lonely
continue trying to save money for much bigger move or step
if i can get the car, much more bearable
job security
picking up and going somewhere AGAIN.
MAJOR REASON: saving money and job security
DOWNFALL: being lonely, being stagnate
DETERMINING FACTOR: monetary situation closer to may. getting a second job. finding a place to live
-move somewhere else ( the next step)
continuing the process
money will be tight
whose to say i wont be more lonely?
finding a job
being in the unfamiliar
finding a cheap living space
not having enough money to really do it comfortably.
where would i go?
philly
new york
nashville
charleston
somewhere near the beach or ocean
MAJOR REASON: continuing the process of self exploration
DOWNFALL: could be too soon, financially wise.
DETERMINING FACTOR: money situation closer to may. job. living situation.
-Live back in richmond and go to school/ work
find a job.
find a place to live, gran gran, dad, couch, sign a lease more than likely
get back into the school mode
do all this shit AFTER i graduate.
MAJOR REASON: friends and getting my ass back in school
DOWNFALL: really not living up to what i always thought i would do when i stopped going to school. its like i;m submitting to the systematic track and not really living my dreams.
DETERMINING FACTOR: job. living situation. if i can GET back in school. DO I WANT TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL.
-be reckless
go do woofing in some far away country with no money but to get there.
same thing with workaway
sell all my shit and back a duffel bag and travel in my car, hopefully trying to find odd jobs when i run out of money
bike across the country. try and work for money along the way
MAJOR REASON: submitting myself to life and not giving a shit. verry appealing.
DOWNFALL: being homeless, not having money. maybe not food.
DETERMINING FACTOR: really isnt one, only if i just decide to say fuck it all. i could do this anytime i want really.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
my first acid trip part one.
my first acid trip.
charlottesville Va (UVA)
2008 early november.
So i quit my job and headed to Charlottesville from Richmond, needing a break
from the hometown and largely warranted affectionates from my current girlfriend. I decided to suprise her and just show up at her dormitory. To my dissatisfaction, she had actaully gone to richmond to see me that exact same weekend. She told me an hour before i left richmond that she would indeed be coming to town and for some reason i felt inclined to lie to her and go anyway to charlottesville desperately needing to clear my head. what a shitty person i must be.
I arrive in charlotesvillle to retain the information that the largest party of the year was being held presicely 2 hours from my arrival and that if i didnt go, all of my pals from high school attending UVA would castrate me and throw me straight into a Tom Robbins book. I meet up with my friend dani, her boyfriend and his roomates, and take off to the party. There's porn being projected onto the wall, there are people having major rager sex in the basement. Three DJ's blasting virtual sex from the stereos, an orgy you'd be wise not to believe. Except that it actaully happened. holy fuck.
Within ten minutes of getting there i am offered FREE acid from said friend's boyfriend. I'm kind of drunk, who am i to decline.
The room upstairs that i had been taken to contained a few fellow intoxicated twently somethings, and one really skinny, long haired, hippy without a shirt, holding a small bird skull, blessing the bong and weed that was about to be partaken in. Holy shit. what am i getting myself into. Ah but still the fuck it attitude pertained. Feeling, for some drunkenly strange reason, a distinct and direct, maybe even uniquely, connection to this letil soup and tea filled hippie, i give him the three finger bling ring securely fasioned to me appendages and tell him so. Just as i am walking out of the door, befundled hippie in wake, i turn drop the tab into my mouth and say, "See you later man." Way to try and be so non-chalantly druggie cool and look like i total retarded invalid.
but i digress.
lets get this straight. I may have dropped out of school, and i may even be some fucked up hipster wannabe art school kid that reads books that arent on the Time's top seller list and listen to way better music than you do, OBVIOUSLY, but i dont smoke weed on a regular basis, i;ve done coke a few times(only in Philly with a bunch of awesome fucked up bike kids), and some aderol for late night study sessions.
I DO NOT DO DRUGS.
but fuck it.
life is a bittersweet adventure,
you might as well, or join the choir invisible.
charlottesville Va (UVA)
2008 early november.
So i quit my job and headed to Charlottesville from Richmond, needing a break
from the hometown and largely warranted affectionates from my current girlfriend. I decided to suprise her and just show up at her dormitory. To my dissatisfaction, she had actaully gone to richmond to see me that exact same weekend. She told me an hour before i left richmond that she would indeed be coming to town and for some reason i felt inclined to lie to her and go anyway to charlottesville desperately needing to clear my head. what a shitty person i must be.
I arrive in charlotesvillle to retain the information that the largest party of the year was being held presicely 2 hours from my arrival and that if i didnt go, all of my pals from high school attending UVA would castrate me and throw me straight into a Tom Robbins book. I meet up with my friend dani, her boyfriend and his roomates, and take off to the party. There's porn being projected onto the wall, there are people having major rager sex in the basement. Three DJ's blasting virtual sex from the stereos, an orgy you'd be wise not to believe. Except that it actaully happened. holy fuck.
Within ten minutes of getting there i am offered FREE acid from said friend's boyfriend. I'm kind of drunk, who am i to decline.
The room upstairs that i had been taken to contained a few fellow intoxicated twently somethings, and one really skinny, long haired, hippy without a shirt, holding a small bird skull, blessing the bong and weed that was about to be partaken in. Holy shit. what am i getting myself into. Ah but still the fuck it attitude pertained. Feeling, for some drunkenly strange reason, a distinct and direct, maybe even uniquely, connection to this letil soup and tea filled hippie, i give him the three finger bling ring securely fasioned to me appendages and tell him so. Just as i am walking out of the door, befundled hippie in wake, i turn drop the tab into my mouth and say, "See you later man." Way to try and be so non-chalantly druggie cool and look like i total retarded invalid.
but i digress.
lets get this straight. I may have dropped out of school, and i may even be some fucked up hipster wannabe art school kid that reads books that arent on the Time's top seller list and listen to way better music than you do, OBVIOUSLY, but i dont smoke weed on a regular basis, i;ve done coke a few times(only in Philly with a bunch of awesome fucked up bike kids), and some aderol for late night study sessions.
I DO NOT DO DRUGS.
but fuck it.
life is a bittersweet adventure,
you might as well, or join the choir invisible.
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