Monthly Archives: November 2012

Loveliness of The Dark


High on my own chemicals

Blood rush the ventricals

I can’t unfeel this feeling

Sun warm red sweet


Spilling light onto my face

Face melts into shoulders

Leaving nothing but a frame

Empty frame, shadows shame

Ripping your way through this cloth nothingness


Yet this cloth bleeds and bends

Barriers shifting

I can’t unfeel this feeling

Red silk runs cold


Through my hands like ribbons…


And my hands feel like stones

I cast them from me

But this isn’t skipping stones

You’re breaking bones


Didn’t your mother teach you better?

Didn’t your father teach you better?

No no they did not, but that’s not the point


Why do you hurt the ones you love?

Why do you love to hurt?


I call you up on the phone

And you say you’re not good people

You say your darkness isn’t like others

It’s permanent


Yet what could change more than a person?

This flesh moves and it breathes

 to a beat all its own

dragging my two-tone skin all over this earth


I’ve been playing hide and seek

And what I seek I’ve found

And all I want to do is hide now


But there’s more to this feeling

There’s the upswing, a new spring

A new dawn, breaking?


I’ve been walking in the shadows

Catching embers from your fire


The embers don’t catch on my skin

But I still try


I hope the fire that I make will keep us both warm

Until then, don’t forget to keep throwing sparks

My Loveliness of The Dark





Growing Storms: An Essay

“The following tone is a reference tone recorded at our operating level.” –Captain Beefheart


At various times throughout one’s life, we experience sudden powerful change in our understanding of the world around us.  Our universe may be sent topsy-turvy in a moment’s instance and us along with it. We sometimes call these moments epiphany.


“Eureka!” screams a naked and soggy Archimedes as he runs through the streets of Syracuse. Such a burst of clarity might elicit euphoria, such as Archimedes experienced, or a more invective filled and dismayed response. Personally, I have experienced both.


Powers, Oregon. 2001.  Coordinates 42°53′0″N 124°4′23″W. Subject Age: 11.


Seldom have I ever felt so free as when I had free reign of the Mountain. My father had an arrangement with Cold Iron Ranch to keep trespassers out and lock the gate at night. In return: a house to stay in. When we arrived it was filled to the rafters with garbage, dirty as an earthworm, and as frigid as the name of the ranch. It had no insulation.


By the end of our stay at Cold Iron’s, the house was hospitable, clean, and warm as long as you huddled next to the wood store. The junk that had littered the house, the yard, and dotted the rest of the 20,000-acre reserve around us, became my personal toy chest. I was envied. Railroad irons, old appliances, junked cars, rusty curtain rods, springs, coils, just about every thing you could imagine. My friends and I were in heaven. We build forts. We chased the cow herds through the valleys. We conquered the rolling hills around us. It was glorious.


There is a singular memory of my stay at the house on the ranch that sticks out in my mind. I’m alone. I walk down from my vista on top of the low rise behind me and approach the small pool of water next to a copse of young fir trees. My thick puffy blue jacket wards me from the cold wind that whips across the grass. I lie down into the pool backwards and feel the water’s pull on me. Tugging insistently. I let go of the shore.


…and I float. Lazily spinning on my back, the two sizes too big jacket buoying my 11 year old body.


When you’re surrounded by nothing, with not a care on one’s mind, one can’t help but let the knowledge of a vast cosmos rush into you. I could go anywhere. Attempt anything. I could explore the world for many lifetimes and never know the fullness of it.


I suppose that was an epiphany of my young life. It’s fitting it seems that both Archimedes and I ended up soggy. Saturated with a newfound perception and knowledge.

The funny thing about that is that knowledge IS like water; fluid, changing, powerful, sustaining, and able to shape the terrain around us. It can also evaporate, dry up, and leave us thirsting for it.


I lost that moment on the Mountain for a time.  My cup was broken and hole ridden. That which it should have held safe was spilt. I forgot there was a wide world with infinite possibilities and I focused on the inconsequential trivia and trivial consequence, a shoegazer with worries aplenty. I let myself be distracted from my goals and dreams to pursue whim and fancy.


I realize that the good in life is not all earned on the turn on the moment, pulled down like fire from heavens. I would like to think that I know and own the mistakes I’ve made.

I have gained a much more slowly won understanding of the work that must be put in, as well as of the rewards that are inherent in such efforts. I can be both storm-watcher, waiting on the tornado that will change the landscape, as well as the patient gardener.


Perhaps I am onlying watching for the opportunity to till the soil. Whether one can grow a storm is yet to be seen.

Suckerpunch Love

Someone came out of the darkness

They cast their knucklebones

Like they were telling my fortune

Hard and fast, I was surprised


But as you’ve now surmised

I don’t fall easily

I’m still standing… slightly irritated


My eyes focus on you.


Lovely as the day is new

Is the face of my enemy to me


No more unpaid bills,

Unspoken words to unsung songs of passion

This is my enemy.

Here is the solution to all my problems

So I point at you and I tell you

“Come here.”

You waver, faltering.

You fear a martial response, I can tell


You don’t know that I need to embrace you.

Brother! Art Thou!

O but Where is the sense in doing that?

My love would be lost on you


So I soldier on

(After all) Custom doth dictate

That I render you pulpy and crimson

Like pomegranate, but less sweet


Then you cracked the fragile shell of my satisfaction

Running off into the night

Your Shock and Awe campaign

Now more of an Aw Shucks situation


Brother, (art thou?), may your feet be swift and sure

You showed me of the humanity that can be found in the dirt

And introduced Love to a Suckerpunch



(Fragment) Sewage

I’ve been spewing sewage…

Like you wanted it

The other day…

You said you wanted it


On that medieval shit

Spreading carnage like a dragon

Fire it up, I’ve got months to live

Better try those sugars that I still haven’t tasted


I’ve sick of houses

They’re all haunted

And apartments

Where the ghosts of our friends live


I could live in a shack by the sea

And count the Sallies by the seashore

One, two, three four, down my throat

I’m hanging with Sass and Molly tonight


they’re fun gals

but so are you

except that I’m not quite sure if you are…


I’m a broken compass

Looking for an mint single-print record

What sounds do you make when you’re kissing the sheets?

And do you only wear your hair that same way every day?


I do

I hate it

I should be liquid

I feel like mercury


Poisonous and quick

Driving men mad,  


A Tale of South Padre (Alternately titled “White Russians”)


White Russians, black morning…

What time is it again?

I hear the tick tock tick tock

The inevitable inevitably cascading down around

This carnage scene


Maybe it’s sin

But sin is in

At least it is if you believe the advertising

Marketing isn’t my major

But it is what I do

Selling myself, selling you

To yourself… isn’t that cool?


They say that a true salesman could sell ice to an Eskimo

Well kid, I sold your confidence to your insecurity

Or was it the other way round?


I run circles around this ballgame

But then we’re just playing in the sand

Dizzy bat major leagues, sorority girl- laser in

On that, like on One.

Don’t fuck my sister mister.


Excuse me?

Throwing ice at Pauly D.

The police were overly concerned

With the state of his blowout

So we jumped out into the car

Behind bars for a very short while

Criminal memories still make me smile

Tagged , , , , , , ,
%d bloggers like this: