Tuesday, November 10, 2015

2.1606 : 9/25/15 : Teacher Appear

Teacher appear! You god damned liar
Twenty years late to stoke this fire
Back when I was ready, eager, confident
Guess there were communication
breakdowns and you didn’t get sent
While the student is ready
the machine plods onward
the truth cleaves sinew and
marrow like a longsword
plenty of teachers
few of them care
to try to push more than a couple feet
into this thousand yard stare
do I blame the teachers then?
I surely don’t
You can pin everything on God
but I do not believe so I won’t
I’ll keep waiting like a fool
for you to appear
and even try to act excited
when you finally get here


2.1605 : 9/24/15 : Groan

Sometimes there’s nothing but to
hold your nose and groan over it
It’s shameful but there’s sure no point
in throwing a fit
I’m no less trapped
but my house is cleaner
no I had better get unplugged
before it makes me any meaner
when the gap is shut
and the ten year calendar is caught up
when the money’s flush
and the armageddon rations bought up
will I still be facing
this idiot pundit class
well I guess we’ll give those dolts
something new to harass


2.1604 : 9/23/09 : Numbers Racket

Should I be playing in a
numbers racket
running a numbers racket
odds are odd and
I couldn’t hack it
Guess I’ll stick to
seeking wages
messing up and
filling pages
till I tip the
rock of ages
see what’s crawling
run tongue over my
wearing teeth
and lay down this
mourning wreath
No more numbers
rackets no quick fix
and all the chaos
it inflicts
the other path is slow and dull
I just hope I’ve got a few more tricks


2.1603 : 9/22/09 : New Home

My big idea for a new home
for the words and these
silly little songs
turned out to cost too much
it really wasn’t all that big
just the first thing that occurred
since the last rug you yanked out
not to say that anything there was assured
I read a friend get way too intimate
talking about their fucked up life
maybe seven years you’ll read this friend
and it won’t mean a thing and that’s history’s knife
It’s not easy to find a new home
so we try real hard to make it work
but inertia is a wicked mistress
and these habits surely make me look the jerk
well I’m mostly not looking for a new home
just like to pick up better habits
it’s getting cold and I’m tired and it feels like
time to go to ground just like rabbits


2.1602 : 9/21/09 : Devil On the Mat

Predictable consequences
what to make of that
you’ll have to play the tough guy
if you want to wear the hat
how the hell hard does it have to be
to get a little change up in my habitat
hey a little here, hey a little there
is this ever going to get the devil on the mat
Far from happy with the
gross wages of plain excess
I can fake perfection for a while
but I can’t always sustain fancy dress
and it’s perfectly pitiful
to end up in the same old mess
but you can only lead yourself so far
under self-imposed duress
I’m all hung up on hope
but I’ve got to beat the clock
It’s so hard to believe these days
that anything’s going to rock
So hard to really argue
that I’m anything but talk
but I grasp for optimism
and still retain the hope to shock


Friday, October 30, 2015

Hiatus prolonged

So the writing of these things doesn't end here, indeed it continues to this day.  The recording of them here... will continue here, soonish, maybe? Life has changed and I haven't found the fit of this thing, and it has remained fairly secret and no one reads it, much, anyway.  Maybe more of an explanation, later.  In the meantime feel free to listen to this, for however long it takes.


Friday, September 25, 2015

2.1601 : 9/20/09 : Run to Delight

refuse the endless night
run run run
run to delight
make no plans
no intentions none
Though the night seems deserted
I am not the only one
may I end here
oh just for one day
I’ve never wrote so much
feeling I’ve got nothing to say
to hold up the bargain
I must at times repeat
myself till I feel empty
while the puzzle’s
still so incomplete

2.1600 : 9/19/09 : Eleven

Turn it up to eleven
comedy cliché
I hit it every hour
I hit it every day
I’ll never explain myself
just hope that it gets better
refine it to a paragraph
and send it in a letter
complete one sentence
and roll on to another
think about my father
think about my mother
A line must just be drawn
somewhere this side of heaven
consider it a matter
of dialing up eleven


2.1599 : 9/18/09 : Limitations

What’s the statutes of limitations
on silly young man’s
unrealistic expectations
It could be worse oh Lord
I know it so well
too old to get so dramatic
to claim that this is hell
too old to expect
some sort of clean break
young enough to want to
deny it’s just a damn mistake
travel through the stages
breathe all the stations
while away an hour
contemplating limitations


2.1598 : 9/17/09 : Verse

The metaverse, the negaverse
the vicaverse, the versaverse
oh is it miracle or curse
so many ways that I could not exist
and could I really call them worse
Oh that I could be forgotten in an instant

like the snuffing of a small flame
or the crushing of an ant
nobody mention in the room
there is an elephant
and the other verses linger in the mist
and who’s to say what can and can’t


2.1597 : 9/16/09 : First or Second

First or second
don’t even know
maybe luck but
so far I’m
making it so
to all the sorry strugglers
trying to sweat the first or second
seeing visions of the sweet vice
that in the distance beckoned
I guess I remember
and it all is tucked away
to examine if I need to
a game I alone can play
I guess it’s better than
What came before but I’m not thrilled
a demon is dispatched
but yet the Beast remains unkilled


2.1596 : 9/15/09 : Death of Ritual

By the pain in these hands
by the scratch in this throat
never again that midnight road
never again this leaking boat
by a day unmarked mislabeled
misremembered meaning nothing
by a piss poor rhyme or reason
propped up shaky by one thing
I seize and execute this
I effect the death of ritual
once more a rutted bloody track
in a promise of success pure virtual


Monday, September 14, 2015

2.1595 : 9/14/09 : Another Five Minutes

3,785 : 9 ?

Another five minutes
time to wash a dish
wedge in some creative drool
pick up a tiny plastic fish
Figure I should be doing
more serious work
but the serious work
is such a bore
I guess this all beats
finding out what
another five minutes
is really for


2.1594 : 9/13/09 : Please No More

Please no more
must it be put on display
Lord knows it’s gotten
written down enough
day after day after day
the opposite of special
beyond mundane
oh yes the tired is real
and sure the pain
but everyone’s in pain here
everyone’s bored
you’d think you could
have spotted
this, one coming Lord


2.1593 : 9/12/09 : Wanton

Wanton wanting after wealth
attempt the needle’s eye by stealth
won’t I look stupid lodged in there
and not even rich, double despair
scarcely know what I’m really pining
for, maybe any silver lining
riches false metaphor for some false prize
maybe just covet what’s before our eyes
getting see-through fading out
tired as hell without a doubt
if I give in now though
I’ll wreck the night
odds are I will anyway
what a fool’s plight


Friday, September 11, 2015

2.1592 : 9/11/09 : Column

Watch the liquid mount the column
shining golden fire
waiting for the fractionate
to trip the sensor wire
decant the essence of the
decoction of the 7 vital airs
daydreaming carrying the
filled vial up the stairs
toss it back in one draft master
everything according to the plan
chasing your obscure disaster
becoming more and less than a man
when they write the story of it
I’m sure they’ll leave out my name
but despite being lost to history
I was in it just the same


2.1591 : 9/10/09 : Yours In Struggle

Struggle with the feelings
of inadequacy
struggle with sleep
hey I’m not fussy
How am I going to get around
to the manifesto
Yours in struggle,
Comrade don Ernesto
I was het up about equality
While you were in diapers
call me in 20 years
when you’re paying all the pipers
I don’t see much changing
and no it isn’t fine
but I’ve got bigger fish to fry and
it’s your struggle now not mine


2.1590 : 9/9/09 : Slapdash

Slapdash just laying
paint down anywhere
no master it’s a mess
it’s in my teeth and hair
every stolen moment’s
Shouting at me from the bleachers
I’ve got no mentors no
And I’ve got no more teachers
maybe it’s all a confidence game
modern art a modern myth
maybe culture’s best produced
and packaged in some monolith
if so I hope they’ll overlook
my sorry little enterprise
as I refuse to stop and if
they don’t like it well damn their eyes


2.1589 : 9/8/09 : Worm Turn

After long hiatus
the stomach worm returns
nothing I’m not used to
though it vexes and burns
and it takes me back to old haunts
and memories long archived
I’ve known it since I was a child
and what the hell, I survived
still in the grips of madness
I recognize its hue
and the worm must be a gift of God
a spike to push the message through
but though my eyes are leaking
and the pain’s from tip to toe
there’s a little crazy left yet to extract
so on and on and on I go


2.1588 : 9/7/09 : Alternative

Alternative to finishing the race
consider falling flat on my face
or sketching out the barest bones
procedures whispered into telephones
Alternative to going crazy the same old way
wake up get up and deal live for today
I can’t help it if the oldies hit me just right
it was in my mind a moment but faded from sight
If this isn’t the answer then what is
I would give you speculation hit or miss
or wrap it up check the clock and give
one last fleeting nod to the alternative


2.1587 : 9/6/09 : Open, Shut

An open and shut case
it all adds up to very little
we’re struggling beneath the law
yes every jot and dittle


2.1586 : 9/5/09 : Marathon

Too dull to even
record the session
round it down to
a thousand is three
I might have sixty left
there’s no knowing
call it twenty thousand then
for all the good it does me
three hundred twenty thousand then
with eyes open anyway
sounds like a hell of a marathon
see what I can get done
down in fifteen minutes
imagine if it just went
on and on
drops in the bucket
fill up the bucket
One point two million
eighty thousand and naught
sounds like plenty
too bad it’s just an estimate
who knows what I’ve really go


2.1585 : 9/4/09 : Fake It

Fighting a feeling like I
really might not make it
every other day it seems
like I just can’t fake it
got through yesterday
but what about tonight?
and always another one
so many chances to not get it right
I think I sang a song about the
lost thread already
So tired so faded
yet my hand is still steady
So I guess I keep it up
today and still fake it
I hoped for more for sure
but hell I’ll sure take it


2.1584 : 9/3/09 : Rapid

Is it just the name
would anyone
notice otherwise
rapid deployment
of vague enjoyment
dark dazzle
of the mocker
flashes off my eyes
would it be best to sleep
try to catch it up
another day like yesterday
no thanks, please
just take back the cup


Thursday, September 10, 2015

2.1583 : 9/2/09 : Comrade

Nothing but one another’s
rhetorical devices
some new society
distraction from the crisis
I hope you let it go
forget the comrade crack
because I’m walking away
and I will not look back
I should keep it short and sweet
but I keep rambling on
So far so incomplete
Where have the days gone
What I said to you
applies just as well to me
maybe we’ll meet on better terms
someday when we’re both struggling free


2.1582 : 9/1/09 : Cosmos

Oh the Cosmos, oh, oh the Cosmos
call it curiosity
so many things meant
something to me
prejudice and superstition
that isn’t all there is to it
yet there is something here
a mission
don’t ask me to be your messenger
your bastard
I’ve been hung out
Look at this another
aching night
sick anxious
worn and strung out
but I smile thinking
about the Cosmos
and every crazy thing in it
no matter how long I hold on
five hundred thousand hours
of contemplation
will not show me more
than a tiny bit


2.1581 : 8/31/09 : Bread

Let’s hear it for hummus
let’s hear it for bread
Let’s hear it for wine and beer
without it we’d all be dead
Let’s hear it for dairy
let’s hear it for rice
if we could get a little bit to everyone
wouldn’t that be nice
wouldn’t it be nice if we
broke free of dull selection
and just chose to help everyone
oh maybe, next election


2.1580 : 8/30/09 : Days Off

What are days off for
not for this to be sure
in a decade it shall not impress
Seems unlikely there will be
a problem there to address
but just in case
I’ll shake this daze off
and reel until your
tired eyes glaze off


2.1579 : 8/29/09 : Five Years On

The magazine folded
was it even a year
and the patrons all got hung out
missed their money’s worth I fear
and I’m not quite pushing 40
but I’m on the downhill side
and lately I admit
I haven’t thought much of the ride
Five years on
from some declaration
whatever I thought it was
was all in my imagination
if it wasn’t for all the ink
visibly spilled
I would count it all a dream
that harsh morning sunlight


2.1577 : 8/27/09 : Me and the Devil’s Rancher’s Blues (The Devil’s Trichord 4/5)

It’s harder than it looks isn’t it?
To get onto a lot you start with such a little bit
and I’m walking a mile in your shoes
walking a while with me and the devil’s rancher’s blues
reread all my hurried notes and they all made sense
but did not make me want to dwell in the present tense
have you made your break friend or are you lurking still
If you don’t know the devil’s rancher
I imagine you will
I wouldn’t trade my son
for a used ukulele
At the crossroads I’m carrying
a big shillelagh
To ward off the devil’s rancher’s blues
but I have to take my chances there
to dig up some more clues
Well you’ll probably never see it
and I don’t really know you
but I felt pain and why you bid adieu
to the ghost world sometimes we all have to get real
And remember that the blues
aren’t all we can feel


2.1576 : 8/26/09 : Sympathy for the Devil’s Rancher (The Devil’s Trichord 3/5)

I tease because I love
because I sympathize
I see so much time wasted
regrets dance before my eyes
follow the Devil’s Rancher
to his fields of
hearty stock
I hope it will work
you’ll think me a jerk
but regret to say that
good intentions
are not bedrock


Monday, August 24, 2015

2.1574 : 8/24/09 : Prelude: Chase the Sun (The Devil’s Trichord 1/5)

Drive like a maniac
buy a couple minutes
If I were rich maybe I
could outfly it
but that’s the trouble isn’t it?
chase the sun
but you’ll get no more time
the alarm is irrevocable
and from this day
to waste one minute
is a crime