Thursday, February 13, 2014

3:36 in the morning and someone is knocking

123 go. The world is opening and a void is being created. Blackness lies inside waiting to be filled with colors of youth. I see it and have a ticket to take the ride but don’t know if the journey is correct. Place yourself in a casket and hammer in your own nails, does it feel good, are you comfortable, can you breath, do you like the darkness or can you see? Art is waiting, youth is fading, and decisions are being made. Eyes are full, sleep is for dogs and those able to shut it off and time is passing but is happiness coming. I’m going to swim and cut my toes to attract the sharks just to see if I want to live again. I don’t know if I can walk the blurry line created by corporations.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

What is this all coming to? The fleecing of a once prideful nation taken down by the slippery slope of ignorance. Get your sled because this one is a going to be slick. We must all forget why the foundation was laid and just open your hands and wait for your handout. I will hang my head ashamed for you as you party in the street with your banner of hope. I will find some land away from everyone and live in my fantasy world reminiscing of how it used to be.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

1 of 3 of 365

He would do anything that I want to make the situation right, but his situation has no bearing on my current place in life. I try to smile and say it’s ok but I know I’m as transparent as a display window. Today is a day when my body has no concern for me and is preparing to die. I’m not happy with its decision to shut down so I fight it and drag it along with me on my daily tasks. Unwillingly it comes along burping and shitting itself with no respect for those around. They ask questions, “what’s wrong, why don’t you feel good, are you going to get better” and I stare at them with their stupid questions and try not to speak. Words hurt, thinking hurts, looking hurts, I hurt. In time it will go away and I will be free to roam once again but until then stay away and don’t talk to me. Today I need nothing but silence and time.

Saturday, July 14, 2012

revised for art

Every day I come a little bit closer to death. The clock ticks and my body breaks down. It is no longer developing; it is decaying slowly and sending me postcards from the other side. Having fun tossing it around like a ragdoll has done me no favors. A once fresh and arrogant piece of meat is now bruised and battered. Do you like it when you limp, do you like it when your heart skips a beat, and how does it make you feel when you can’t lay in bed because your shoulders pop out of socket? Think of the seconds of the past now calculate the years of the future, was it worth it? Watch what you eat and monitor the air that you breathe this is your destiny. Things of the past that intrigued you by the way it mad you fell are now rotting your flesh and decomposing your mind. Your hands once shaped, cleaned and reassembled things now lay on the stainless steel lifeless clicking and moving while trying to maintain contact with the brain. Eyes are fading and memories become things of the past that you cannot recall. Stop, think, don’t do it, it’s only pain. I still see the light and want to bask in its glory but I must remain on the sideline waiting to die. We all will, but I don’t want to. Fear of dying is now taking up 20% of my daily computing capacity. I now notice that the work I do is 20% slower and less effective than it use to be. Soon my life will be consumed by death and I will cease to be able perform any normal human interaction. Quiet in a corner waiting for the end I will be reborn with no fear, knowing the end means nothing and I really only mattered to a select few. I will be in the valley of death laughing at the existence I once knew. Be kind to those you care for and treat yourself good. Live every minute to the fullest because life isn’t so serious and we truly have no idea what happens when the light turns off.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

see sick

As the ship bobs adrift at sea the crew members are tossed side to side creating sickness. They all huddle together for support and speak of stories of a better ship. Some talk of a ship that is large with diesel engines cutting through the surf without even the slightest movement. Others dream of a race boat skipping on the surface at lights speed always nanoseconds away from lift off. Some talk of a small boat with one occupant that rows the boat, steers the boat and captains it. A few of the crew members just want to jump overboard and end the torture. The engine room is always prepping the engines waiting for the spark to ignite the fuel. Life out here is hard on one’s soul. Without a good captain even the best of boats and crews are destine to bob adrift at sea wondering where they are going or if they are going to end up stranded on the reef. Sometimes you just need to jump ship and see how well you swim. I know my great grandfather did it and he lived a good life sipping spirits on the porch while fathering 14 children. I feel the need to swim.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

you can count on it

We are controlled by numbers. The number of days until our next birthday, the number of days until our next vacation, the number of days until our death, always changing but never changing, these numbers never lie. I wake up and a number is attached to me, 5:14. I step out of bed it is 8 steps to the bathroom. I put .500 of toothpaste on my toothbrush and brush for 1 minute consisting of 227 strokes. Off to the kitchen for 6 cups of coffee. Staring at the clock until 8:00 then it’s time for a 6 minute shower just so I can get in my car and drive 11 miles to work so I can sit there for 8 hours to collect the numbers they give me for being there. When it’s 6 I go home another 11 miles going through 7 stoplights and burning .78 gallons of fuel. Upon arrival at my house I check the mailbox which is 23 paces from the back door to find the 5 bills that wait for their numbers. Once the number is determined for each bill I turn the computer on which takes 58 seconds. Now that I’m in the true home of 0’s and 1’s I apply the numbers I received from work to each bill so that the number end up 0. I trade my life for numbers every day. This may seem monotonous but this is how our world is set up. Numbers traded back and forth to get what we need. I know people who save their numbers and are afraid to use them. All their numbers do is sit in a computer and get tallied by 1’s and 0’s, the only numbers that seem to count these days. I will take the next 11 minutes and try to be number free, knowing it is impossible as the seconds fade away. We live in a society where humans are second to numbers, please stand up to be counted as one of the numbers that doesn’t abide.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

virtual babies

I see the future and don’t understand it. Less action more fluff cannot make for a better life. You sit and watch the screen laughing at visions made to entertain children. A life learned through screens cannot produce sustainable fruit. Stare at it and you still will not get any wiser. You may learn facts from other screen children but nothing that will help you when the power fails. Take a stand use your hands and engage your brain. Life isn’t virtual, people can’t be deleted with a click, open your eyes and let the sunlight in. The world has so much to offer and your screen can only produce a 30 inch view. In the cracks of society is where you need to look. Look for the hands that aren’t perfect, look for dirty fingernails, look to the past and with that you will find knowledge. A world lived in a box is scary. Turn it off today and start living. It may hurt in the beginning but in time the sunlight will start to nourish your soul and you will no longer crave the virtual back rubs of friending someone. Today could be the first day of your life if you just turn the power off.

Monday, April 11, 2011

sleeping strength

Knot knowing. Cinched, tied. Strength through relationships. I feel good. I know my knot will hold if I fall.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Friday, February 25, 2011

soft

Flags whipping in the wind, cars passing in the street and here I sit safely behind glass. The air is warm and lights are humming in my head. I feel safe. I feel complacent. I feel soft. I feel my body decaying. Brain stumbling, heart clogging, eyes failing, muscles withering, work makes ones soul shallow. When I try to set sail I always end up ship wrecked on the corporate rocks. Stranded at my desk eyes failing, grinding, withering, clothes beginning to lose their fit. So small inside a large shell the walls echo as minutes tick into hours that pass into days and then to years. Life is fading. I will now place cigarettes in my socks in hopes of absorbing caffeine into my soul. Please wave when you pass me. I will sit idle in a world sick with greed dreaming of the sugars of the night.

Friday, October 15, 2010

lupe

We are good people that hold no prejudices but you are not welcome in our home. I don't know you or care to know you. I will never let you rest if you take root in this home. The thought of you makes my heart hurt. Please pass by this home.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

7am and no one is there

Wrapped in bureaucracy, arms tied by ignorance. I was told maybe we need to educate ourselves on the matter. If it is your job and you can't see 2 feet in the front and a foot to the side, fuck you. You must be a city or state employee. Wind up the ball with your lack of knowledge and need for power, make it last ten times as long as it would if you had a clue. You need to be spoon feed and stroked as you eat, you think you are getting fat by taking my time. I see you withering in your quagmire of wasted time. Your enjoyment comes at other peoples expense. You are a burden on society. We need to cut the dead weight.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Sunday, September 19, 2010

returning to the shores that made you

Sitting, watching and waiting for it to go by, life gets complicated. It is hard to notice it day to day but it does. Under your feet the ground moves and erodes causing you to shift your weight ever so slightly. Your body does it automatically so you notice nothing. Two days, nothing, two years, you don't see your toes, ten years, your knees are buried and you begin to start pulling. Strain as you might but your legs are stuck. Well it could be worse, you have a nice view. You look around and you are surrounded by things you like, things you've acquired and a few things that you never wanted but came with the passage of time. Well it is ok you can still sit down and bend your waist, arms, back and head. You smile and hold on to the things you love and time continues on. Every once and a wile you pull and dream of movement but you know it is useless. Your place is set and you must be complacent with where you are. It was you who placed your feet in the sand and decided to stand still and watch. You begin to notice you can no longer bend you waist and it is beginning to become hard to breath, life has continued on as you remained motionless, only moving your eyes and hands. Well you did make a difference, your hands produced beauty and you effected those around you. Piled up high as if stacked by professionals you can no longer see beyond the walls you created. Inside a prison of worldly goods you can't see the sun and your body can't move. You wonder what it would have been like if you remained in motion and never stopped to examine the mundane existence they call life. Well you will never know, life washed over you just as it has for centuries prior, not knowing or caring who or what it buried. It is better to move than to be complacent, but be prepared you will stop and you will get buried, crying that you never saw it coming.

Friday, September 17, 2010

waiting for a slip

Going through life wondering what is going on. Everyday things change but nothing truly does. The good honest people remain honest while the scumbags walk all over them. Like a rock or a steel tower they use us to climb to the top. I can hardly blame them if I was a climber I would want something sturdy to climb on, but it makes me sick to see these people reap the rewards of their dishonest ways. Fuck it I will not waiver, I will stay strong while the scum climbs, hoping that on day they will loose their footing and come crashing down while I stand tall and smile knowing I never wavered in the presence of money. Hold your ground become a rock this country is in need of a better foundation.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

effortless with a prize

I can despise the colors you wear. In round rooms all eyes are on you. In a hall people pass on the right. I see your skin. The place where you bought it is of no interest to me. I don’t need your skin. A passion for yellow in spring and olive in the fall can only lead to pictures painted in ashes. Nine out of ten times a cup is your companion. Fill it up to the top and it will never be full. Place a lid on it and forget the contents, just hold the cup. The benches are empty here and the carpenters aren’t hammer in nails, no work is being done. What will they do? People in need of a redo can’t get it due to a lack of effort from the team. A few of them hang and pose as if going real fast, but I can see their skin. Under it all they are lubed ready for the fight, but their fight will be short and eventless. A plaque, a trophy, a ribbon, all things that lose their luster with the passage of time. If I could I would buy you knife and show you what’s real. Later they will come and wonder what’s for lunch and who’s going to pay. The facts are the facts and I truly need no skin.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

pockets

Wear your costume. You will surely fit in. Why with all the people doing it they will never know you are a fake. Dress it up, dumb it up, copy the past now you look right. Walk around with your dirty cloths and your slicked hair, you are in. Now pick yourself up a motorcycle and start collecting junk from the past, things that sucked back then, suck now, Oh wait not in your crowd. Trying so hard to copy the past creates inferior product. Now you find yourself sitting on the side of the road looking cool but going nowhere. Is it worth it? Sorry for the confusion from the outside, I use a different formula to make me feel real. Mix the essence of the past with the knowledge of the present to create the future. Don’t hide behind a costume that is said to be cool, dance with what you have and make them wonder. Seeing yourself will create confidence. Don’t worry they will understand in ten to twenty years and by then you will be rowing boats with angelic wings while telling stories to tiny ears in need. Love life and live it, the babies will love you for it.

Friday, May 14, 2010

governmental control

Keep it close taxi driver. I paid the fare now take me to my destination. With two pennies the ride may begin. The engine starts with a flat line beep and we are off. New scenery and old friends makes it enjoyable in the beginning. Change is always traumatic on the heart. I missed you’s make my heart calm and the journey continues. All round edges and velvety smoothness make me feel safe. No worries but fears begin to enter my mind. Where are the good times? Blandness covers the land and people speculate on when it will happen. Waiting can take up most of the day here. Will he, will it, will they, will it happen? In an attempt to keep things positive sightings are spoke of. Once again the cycle starts and hope is created.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

a Sympathetic ear

Everyday going through the motions so I can eat and sleep, doing things unnatural to feel natural, is this existence? Knowing that almost everyone does it doesn’t make it right. I want to buy a horse, I want to live on a ranch, I want to live. I want to be in touch with nature, to hear the gods bellow through the trees. In the morning the sun will rise and I will be there to greet it. We will acknowledge each others presence with a smile and a warm hello. I will pet my dog and take him to the hill to track his ancient ancestors and secure his domain. My horse will be waiting and we will go up into the mountains to listen to the earth speak its beauty through running streams, falling rock, animal deaths and births, and its silence. I will know where I belong and where I came from. My heart will be calm and I will be at peace, not fearing death. My horse will take me home and I will tell it of the loves and losses of my life and it will be comforted knowing my secrets.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

pretty horses

Scared money can’t win and a worried man can’t love.

Friday, March 26, 2010

under it

Flags were created to show ownership, express pride and to admit defeat. I don’t want to carry or wave any flags. I will be a solitary man leaving a trail of flags in my wake. You will be able to find me by following the trail of forgotten associations and lively creatures. Through life I want to float inches from the earth not feeling the ripples created by others, in exchange I will create small waves for them to play in. Thoughts will power you through life; you can ride them to foreign places your mind never knew to exist. Go inside, take the ride and enjoy the journey. If I cross your wave I will ride it and thank you for what you have to offer. Put down your flags and open your eyes what you see might actually inspire you. Ownership is for governments not people.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

boxes

I’m going to build a box in my back yard. This box will free of noise, light, thought, friends, enemies, or any other influence from the outside world. I will enter the box with the burdens I now carry. When the door closes and all ceases to exist I will begin to shed all the unnecessary attachments that add weight to my daily life. Once the weight is shed I will remain their silent until I’ve forgotten about everything. I will not exist anymore. In time the door will open and I will emerge fresh as the flowers in spring, now knowing the evils of the world. With this innocence I will carry a sword and slay all the evil that comes my way. The walls will never be penetrated by them again. I will hold those close who I love and protect them with my innocence. Forget the world in order to find peace, but live in it with the eyes of a child while wielding a weapon that deters the leaches. If you are close, I will bring you with me and we will be light as air floating through the world laughing.

Monday, March 8, 2010

it is a competition

Let it go is what I say let it go. They say that there are only two things you can count on in life and that is death and taxes. Well I’m not ready for death so bring on the taxes. I will pay you, you blood sucking leaches. Have it I will make more. I will laugh as I make it knowing you have no bearing on death. Death is the final ultimate power. Death laughs at you and I play with death. Death is my friend, we are dancing partners. We compete in the world finals once a month, knowing there is only one winner. For the time being I hold the trophy. Everyday I rub it in Death’s face knowing it makes him jealous. I use the skills I learn in the competition to dance with my lady and I think she likes it. So bring on the taxes, I’m dancing with my lady.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

when the sun rises

Sunday mornings are meant to relax. Where do you go, how do you find that place where nothing is? I look outside and it is peaceful, the sun is shining and the weeds are growing. Inside I hear the heater heating and I know she is sleeping. Life should be easy. Uncomfortable I sit and feel as if my chest is going to crack open to expose the horrible red goo that is contained inside my skin. It will not stop, it will not go away, it is mine and I own it. Wanting to sit but not knowing how can make the soul uneasy at times. Forget it, let it go is what is taught in classes by people from foreign countries who have far less than us and still seem happy. I’m jealous and wish I could participate in the tranquility of others. The mind goes and the heart races some stupid race that has no finish other than death. Is that it, is that all we have to look forward to, I don’t know. I fill my life with projects and goals waiting for the end to come. Busy keeps the mind from wondering. Fill it up with tasks and chores and the soul will have no time to complain. Click it goes on and life begins again. In she walks, I’m distracted by her beauty and peace. My life mellow and I know it will be alright.

Monday, February 22, 2010

undefeated world champion, perfect the art

Fear me today. I’m in another place, a place you never want to be. I cannot control it and it makes me weak. To acknowledge it would mean defeat, but to ignore it will cause immense sadness. The choice is one of closed eyes and distorted visions. Expand your horizons they might say. My hands are shaking. Locked inside I cannot escape. Push the issue and create a tragedy. I will no longer acknowledge the signs of long nights and harsh mornings. Eyes of fear, eyes of the ignorant, close them now before a lose occurs. My legs want to run with nowhere to go. I remember when I was young and had to fight for it, but this is another story, this isn’t the cause. I wish I had a complaint department that cared or mattered. I see bridges to foreign lands and know I can’t find home. In the service of a force more influential than gravity I force a smile on my face and smack the curator at the museum. This is an exhibit of defiance. Be a part, be a piece, pay the price. Laughing and smiling the children know no different. Blind, I will continue to be the critic and hold all things accountable, knowing the guilty party got away. Many hours of energy have been wasted and will continue to be.

Friday, February 19, 2010

I can't really talk about it

As I must inform you it has now been thirty-one years. In the first few I knew no better. As time passed I felt it I knew it I needed it. So the story goes. Try to think back, back to a time when there was no time, when time was silent, invisible, never passing nor receding, a place where purity wasn’t an option only a thing. I will give you this. It did exist. It is true; but the purity would never exist if not for corruption. The cycle gains momentum, rolling downhill, a manor of gravitational pull. At what point if any does it loose momentum or revolve around another time or place? Once something is stolen it will always be stolen. Even if it is given back, it was still stolen and will never regain its original luster. A time when the light was shining, a place where you once felt safe, lost, stolen and blocked from view. I can now say I see it, an existence where purpose is not mandatory. One must only function within the realm of the white room. In what you believe the room has many colors, shapes, doors, endless expansions, even a purpose. White is enjoyable. Through it you see nothing; you feel nothing you are nothing. Below you, you cannot see, you do not feel, you are. Please don’t get me wrong here I can settle for less than perfection. I alone live here. Sure there are others out their, but this is mine. I will mold it and compress it, until there is another option. Please forget the letters that create me, they are no longer useful to you. When you imagine a hole do you see the whole or a hole? I must confess it is very hard to tell the difference. Over a given period of time how much do you really remember? I ask you this, because does it really matter? When it is gone, it is now transformed into electronic pulses, waiting to fire once again to prove that they still do exist. Once fired a recreation of the past forms internally, sometimes creating water. When the water dries up I scrape the salt into a container for resale some day. Nothing creates something. What is this nothing that bothers me so? I can hardly believe the nothing is so powerful that it affects everyday life. I cannot eat without nothing interfering, I cannot sleep without nothing, I want nothing. In a world of everything I want nothing to leave so I can regain nothing. I now concentrate on smaller tasks. Yesterday I made friends with a fly for an hour and a half. He must have mistaken me for something. When it all breaks down I will rebuild it. Is it wrong to stop? A test if you may, an experiment with time. This small process seems impossible to stop.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Inside movement

I want to go home. Everyday seems such a struggle. The tools you gave me seem so grand but without direction they circle in confusion. Moments of brilliance blind the eyes of those close. I’m ready to go home. Some say struggles create strength. Struggles with an end creates strength, while struggles in tunnels create missing persons. To give up the fight and conform will surly be the end. Today, tomorrow there will be no difference. I hear you calling and it is beautiful. Please help, my hands are in need.

The enemy