Dear torch lighter,
I do believe you have mistaken the ignite button that is located in a small hole just under your nose. You may want to discuss this with the other idiot across the patio who is neglecting the exact same vital piece of information that is keeping up all from being warm this December.
Much Respect,
~S
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
My life is about to hit a speed bump. it's 30 degrees colder than it was yesterday. Mother nature knows of my rebellion. I think I'll try to make myself feel different for tonight only. tonight I'll change the game plan. Criminal masterminds have to do that. Their freedom depends on it. Tonight you rob a liquor store, tomorrow you shoot a business man from a rooftop, lay low for a few weeks, move to a new city, pay cash for your hotel room then knock off the coffee shop on the corner. Tonight my eyes will dance with a brilliant fire. Not unlike a child's eyes on Christmas morning, eyes the size of sweet sixteen donuts.
I have to be completely ready for the next few days, but how does one prepare for time alone? I see this speed bump in the distance. The yellow paint is worn from years of inconvenience to lead -footed drivers. But it's there, and if i don't pay attention it may fuck up my shocks. Already faced with a few new ghosts. Probably making terrible decisions even before this new time alone. I don't know why i feel so light-hearted. So at ease with this situation. I guess i am setting myself up for a very selfish thing. distance. It can poison a heart. Taint the juice sprayed bib of the fat man gnawing the last bit of meat off the bone. Even if the bone was bare to begin with....
I like the imagery of what i just vomited onto the page. But, let's face it, it really made no sense at all..
I have to be completely ready for the next few days, but how does one prepare for time alone? I see this speed bump in the distance. The yellow paint is worn from years of inconvenience to lead -footed drivers. But it's there, and if i don't pay attention it may fuck up my shocks. Already faced with a few new ghosts. Probably making terrible decisions even before this new time alone. I don't know why i feel so light-hearted. So at ease with this situation. I guess i am setting myself up for a very selfish thing. distance. It can poison a heart. Taint the juice sprayed bib of the fat man gnawing the last bit of meat off the bone. Even if the bone was bare to begin with....
I like the imagery of what i just vomited onto the page. But, let's face it, it really made no sense at all..
Thursday, December 13, 2007
THEY BOTH
A cold liquid pours down his back.
The hue of movie theater seats from the 50's.
Coffee stains on a white pair of shoes and Y chromosomes under his fingernails.
The paint starts to change colors a little as he remembers why he left home in the first place.
"I can't go there anymore" he said inside his head. The quotation marks still applied.
When the doorbell rang she was pouring beer into the bathtub.
"doctor said it will help my skin, and it's good for the baby."
Everyone knew she wasn't pregnant but hell, Why tell the truth now.
He heart wont allow her the convenience of reading the clock hands.
He's been gone for so long, Just came back to get his thing.
But she just smiles, like it was yesterday, or a thousand yesterdays ago.
He slammed the trunk the way wardens slam cell doors.
It wasn't exactly necessary unless someone happened to be filming it.
There was never any ring exchanged between the two of them but if there had been,
this may have been the moment that she took it off. In her mind the ring took a little more than a tug to remove from her finger. Signifying the fact that it had been there since the proposal. This is the moment that she flicks it in the air. This is the moment that the sky turns electric black and winged beasts that have never been recorded by National Geographic fly down around the scorned couple. swirling around them with great fury. Screaming primal battle cries used to defend their race from the dinosaurs. But there had never been a ring in the first place.
The sun never went down that night and in the morning everyone was none the wiser. The moon was pretty upset but would never show his true emotions.
As he sat down to drink his coffee, And as she sat down to drink hers, they both knew the other was thinking of them. Habits such as these don't break over night.
the cigarettes had been left burning in the ashtray. the smoke sending up a signal that neither of them could read however, they both tried so desperately. Smoke has always been magical, since the beginning of time.
It seemed that the day floated around both of them the same way, Like manufactured snow globes with beach scenes inside. Both getting undressed and slipping into different showers. Both touching themselves to feel comforted. Both feeling very uncomfortable.
That night as they both decided to take a stroll, they both ended up on opposite ends of the same park. The smoke from the two cigarettes met at the very top of the snow globe where the air bubble sits quietly, waiting, watching. The two streams of smoke greeted each other, danced together the way young couples do at middle school socials. Stiff and awkward, elbows out. Erection hidden. When the tears floated upward in that sticky sweet solution, mixing with the flecks of glitter and tiny plastic birds, they finally felt alone.
Life's giant number two pencil,
still factory sharpened
erasure clean, no smudges to speak of.
reaches down from heaven.
"Please erase this mistake for me as i have no writing utensil to speak of."
They both
No more.
The hue of movie theater seats from the 50's.
Coffee stains on a white pair of shoes and Y chromosomes under his fingernails.
The paint starts to change colors a little as he remembers why he left home in the first place.
"I can't go there anymore" he said inside his head. The quotation marks still applied.
When the doorbell rang she was pouring beer into the bathtub.
"doctor said it will help my skin, and it's good for the baby."
Everyone knew she wasn't pregnant but hell, Why tell the truth now.
He heart wont allow her the convenience of reading the clock hands.
He's been gone for so long, Just came back to get his thing.
But she just smiles, like it was yesterday, or a thousand yesterdays ago.
He slammed the trunk the way wardens slam cell doors.
It wasn't exactly necessary unless someone happened to be filming it.
There was never any ring exchanged between the two of them but if there had been,
this may have been the moment that she took it off. In her mind the ring took a little more than a tug to remove from her finger. Signifying the fact that it had been there since the proposal. This is the moment that she flicks it in the air. This is the moment that the sky turns electric black and winged beasts that have never been recorded by National Geographic fly down around the scorned couple. swirling around them with great fury. Screaming primal battle cries used to defend their race from the dinosaurs. But there had never been a ring in the first place.
The sun never went down that night and in the morning everyone was none the wiser. The moon was pretty upset but would never show his true emotions.
As he sat down to drink his coffee, And as she sat down to drink hers, they both knew the other was thinking of them. Habits such as these don't break over night.
the cigarettes had been left burning in the ashtray. the smoke sending up a signal that neither of them could read however, they both tried so desperately. Smoke has always been magical, since the beginning of time.
It seemed that the day floated around both of them the same way, Like manufactured snow globes with beach scenes inside. Both getting undressed and slipping into different showers. Both touching themselves to feel comforted. Both feeling very uncomfortable.
That night as they both decided to take a stroll, they both ended up on opposite ends of the same park. The smoke from the two cigarettes met at the very top of the snow globe where the air bubble sits quietly, waiting, watching. The two streams of smoke greeted each other, danced together the way young couples do at middle school socials. Stiff and awkward, elbows out. Erection hidden. When the tears floated upward in that sticky sweet solution, mixing with the flecks of glitter and tiny plastic birds, they finally felt alone.
Life's giant number two pencil,
still factory sharpened
erasure clean, no smudges to speak of.
reaches down from heaven.
"Please erase this mistake for me as i have no writing utensil to speak of."
They both
No more.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Sunday, November 25, 2007
How can you say no? When you look at that body. that skin covering those bones. made of milk and sugar, chocolate and cinnamon. How can you stop? My tongue grew a few pant sizes. It pushed it's way out of my mouth. After this happens saying "no" is impossible. All you can do is taste all the mysteries of that skin. The smell that creeps from the deep, dark depths of the denim. Like the waft of hot apple pie, fresh from the oven, that lifts cartoon characters off their feet. I floated over her suspended by this smell. My tongue hanging down over her. I try to say no again, but i can't. Men who are starving should never float over a meal.
It's the smell that intoxicates. I could sit in front of this torture for hours and never salivate. But the smell. that terrible, glorious smell of cloth and sex. Sweet sweat. Age, Wisdom. The smell has a voice. With my cheek pressed against the stomach, Trying so desperately to hear anything. The voice of God maybe. "someone say no for me." The temptress is part cat i believe. Lying there, still. Purring because she wants me to pet her. Letting me know that it is okay for me to come close. "I'm no threat." she says. "Oh but you are. Also, you are afraid of water. Of this i am certain."
My tongue did shrink.
And the smell did die.
her skin wrinkled and stretched.
Sagging where it shouldn't
She aged 100 years.
Milk Curdled
Sugar turned to dirt.
Chocolate to Tree bark
Cinnamon to Ash.
What i smelled next made me gag.
Her head separated from her body. Old and dead.
the body the witch had concealed from her victim.
i had to touch her to push her away. My hands breaking her skin. It ran through my fingers like clay. There was no blood. Only dust.
Then i said "no."
It was much easier that time.
It's the smell that intoxicates. I could sit in front of this torture for hours and never salivate. But the smell. that terrible, glorious smell of cloth and sex. Sweet sweat. Age, Wisdom. The smell has a voice. With my cheek pressed against the stomach, Trying so desperately to hear anything. The voice of God maybe. "someone say no for me." The temptress is part cat i believe. Lying there, still. Purring because she wants me to pet her. Letting me know that it is okay for me to come close. "I'm no threat." she says. "Oh but you are. Also, you are afraid of water. Of this i am certain."
My tongue did shrink.
And the smell did die.
her skin wrinkled and stretched.
Sagging where it shouldn't
She aged 100 years.
Milk Curdled
Sugar turned to dirt.
Chocolate to Tree bark
Cinnamon to Ash.
What i smelled next made me gag.
Her head separated from her body. Old and dead.
the body the witch had concealed from her victim.
i had to touch her to push her away. My hands breaking her skin. It ran through my fingers like clay. There was no blood. Only dust.
Then i said "no."
It was much easier that time.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Friday, November 2, 2007
Pouring
The inside of my mind swirls. It's filled with cigarette smoke and dead leaves coffee and chocolate. I'm in a coffee shop in Louisville, Kentucky, begging myself to write. To just sit down and write anything. Whatever comes out, just vomit on the page. Easy to say when you have an iron stomach and an empty mind. There is something magical about the cold air. It makes my mind wander around corners i never dreamed of turning. I wish it were easier to control my own mind. Be a thinker, a New-Thoughter even. But what do i think about? Cigarette smoke and dead leaves, coffee and chocolate.
This tour is pretty amazing to think about. The relationships that have formed over the year. Blossomed and died. We have lived in vans that have moved across the country. We've slept on your floors and cleaned out your kitchen. We know each other even better than our own mothers do. The booze and the drugs do that for us. We show our true selves at these hotel rooms and truck stops. I don't think i would ever change it.
I think about these times and how i have let them slip by without note. The boring days on the open road will one day be considered the best times of my life. And now that it is getting closer to the end i wish i could go back and record it all. every girls face, every joke, every plate of eggs, cup of coffee, every fucking gas station.
What a blur this is. The hot nights of summer and the freezing days of winter blend into one. I don't remember names of venues or restaurants around the country. I barely remember the names of the women whose faces i have kissed. I should feel pretty awful about this but i just don't. I can't find love in these people. I feel so much like a character. I am the man with the beard. a spokes person for all that is heavy metal these days. The only problem is that i really don't like heavy metal. And half of the people i talk to at these shows make me feel less and less like a person everyday. How would they really feel if i cried in front of them?
I sound like a girl. Whining about my troubles. Who am i to complain? I get to travel the world playing rock and roll. people would kill for this. Right? I do love one thing about it. I love these boys. I need these boys. My brothers, my best friends, my family.
I see Josh on stage, singing with the same voice he has had since he was 17. The most coarse and beautiful sounds. The songs i've grown up loving. I see so many things in him. So much joy and pain. The nicest man i have ever met. He is living the true Rock n Roll lifestyle. He got into our van with a guitar, a bag of clothes and a box of 7" records. I don't think i am brave enough to do that.
And there is Jared. The secret idol. I've said it a million times, he has the prettiest, most amazing voice I have ever heard, he will never believe it. The Humble Heart breaker. It's so great to have him back on stage again. To here what he has poured himself into. It calms me makes me believe in music. Makes me want them to change the world. God i hope they can do it. Some one has to.
Shall i go on?
Brandon is evil in the sexiest way. I honestly believe that he could start a cult and people would follow. never questioning what he says. It's clearly the eyes. That boy has the devils eyes. And he's passionate about love and hate. about the darkness. you can see it in him. It's not a game.
These are the faces that i care about. But i don't know if they realize how much they have effect they have had on me. I only realize how much i truly love these souls when i'm back home thinking about these boys. These rooms with no windows. No reminders of the life i leave at home everytime i hop in the van. They are running jokes, long laughs, the party that never gets out of hand. They are comforting and for that i am forever thankful.
before i left that last show in South Carolina i promised Brandon that i would shoot him in the head if he turned into a zombie but it would be a hell of a lot harder to stab him in the heart had he turned into a vampire. This statement caught me again today as i was going through some notes that i had jotted. I don't think i have met a woman yet whom i couldn't send to the depths of hell if she became one of the undead. My brothers are another story. I would follow them to the ends of the earth, Forever if need be.
This tour is pretty amazing to think about. The relationships that have formed over the year. Blossomed and died. We have lived in vans that have moved across the country. We've slept on your floors and cleaned out your kitchen. We know each other even better than our own mothers do. The booze and the drugs do that for us. We show our true selves at these hotel rooms and truck stops. I don't think i would ever change it.
I think about these times and how i have let them slip by without note. The boring days on the open road will one day be considered the best times of my life. And now that it is getting closer to the end i wish i could go back and record it all. every girls face, every joke, every plate of eggs, cup of coffee, every fucking gas station.
What a blur this is. The hot nights of summer and the freezing days of winter blend into one. I don't remember names of venues or restaurants around the country. I barely remember the names of the women whose faces i have kissed. I should feel pretty awful about this but i just don't. I can't find love in these people. I feel so much like a character. I am the man with the beard. a spokes person for all that is heavy metal these days. The only problem is that i really don't like heavy metal. And half of the people i talk to at these shows make me feel less and less like a person everyday. How would they really feel if i cried in front of them?
I sound like a girl. Whining about my troubles. Who am i to complain? I get to travel the world playing rock and roll. people would kill for this. Right? I do love one thing about it. I love these boys. I need these boys. My brothers, my best friends, my family.
I see Josh on stage, singing with the same voice he has had since he was 17. The most coarse and beautiful sounds. The songs i've grown up loving. I see so many things in him. So much joy and pain. The nicest man i have ever met. He is living the true Rock n Roll lifestyle. He got into our van with a guitar, a bag of clothes and a box of 7" records. I don't think i am brave enough to do that.
And there is Jared. The secret idol. I've said it a million times, he has the prettiest, most amazing voice I have ever heard, he will never believe it. The Humble Heart breaker. It's so great to have him back on stage again. To here what he has poured himself into. It calms me makes me believe in music. Makes me want them to change the world. God i hope they can do it. Some one has to.
Shall i go on?
Brandon is evil in the sexiest way. I honestly believe that he could start a cult and people would follow. never questioning what he says. It's clearly the eyes. That boy has the devils eyes. And he's passionate about love and hate. about the darkness. you can see it in him. It's not a game.
These are the faces that i care about. But i don't know if they realize how much they have effect they have had on me. I only realize how much i truly love these souls when i'm back home thinking about these boys. These rooms with no windows. No reminders of the life i leave at home everytime i hop in the van. They are running jokes, long laughs, the party that never gets out of hand. They are comforting and for that i am forever thankful.
before i left that last show in South Carolina i promised Brandon that i would shoot him in the head if he turned into a zombie but it would be a hell of a lot harder to stab him in the heart had he turned into a vampire. This statement caught me again today as i was going through some notes that i had jotted. I don't think i have met a woman yet whom i couldn't send to the depths of hell if she became one of the undead. My brothers are another story. I would follow them to the ends of the earth, Forever if need be.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
When i shake my Maracas
I would love to think that starting this blog is the first step in my free form, no holds barred jots of every thought. I am writing now in hopes that something will flow, some crazed demon will lift its head out of the slime that my brain is becoming and shout out a few words. I will pretend that they are mine..
I hope that this blog will be filled with my personal reviews of Food, Web pages, movies and music. As well as my rants raves and poetry that i haven't set my mind to in quite some time.
Hopefully this will work out.. But i do tend to set myself up for failure.
Hopefully this is not a half ass commitment.
Hope,
S
I hope that this blog will be filled with my personal reviews of Food, Web pages, movies and music. As well as my rants raves and poetry that i haven't set my mind to in quite some time.
Hopefully this will work out.. But i do tend to set myself up for failure.
Hopefully this is not a half ass commitment.
Hope,
S
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