This is not poetry.

wonderlust : part II

2010-02-20T05:59:00.000-04:00

so i woke up in a room
the walls covered in strange
postesr
and girl curled up against the wall

clearly sleeping
and this clealry wa'snt
my bed

i woek her up
and offred to make us
some drinks
she incilnedd my offer
and i mixed frozen chaep vodka
with grendaine syrupand some
leftouver fruti juice she had
int he fridge

"this whole ufcking thing"
i say
"its gettitn mmore and more unorignial..
i come ove r here, we talk, get to busienss
things egt intens e i wake up
you wake up"

"il ove it "!
she tlells me
"i justa bsolutely LOVE it"

"i gra b the radio and put on the lcoal
classical station"

"turn of this garbage, i wanna DANCE"
she was never one to be original
"i wanna go out, have fun..
dammit matt i wanna just DANCE"

"dammit woman"
i tel her
"when a man cant fi nd his peace
in a clam little apartment on the east side
listening to mozart
he ddamn well aint gonna get it
hanging out at fraternity housess
and listenning to lady ghaga"

she pouted for 5 mintuse
and when i finished my drink
i fucked her into a freanzy
and i rolled off
and smokeed a cigarette
out her window by
heer bed as to not set off hte fire alarm
and she cur led her warm body onto mine
and she said in a whiseper in my ear

"youre right, fuck dancing"
and she wiggled into a comforatable position

i laughed
thinking
damn
do they not know
waht they want

a few drinks on the counter

2010-02-20T05:39:00.000-04:00

i ran into a lady from a while back tonight
some flashbacks of a night a couple months
back
where i met her
as much as i dont remember speaking much to
her i remember
an attitude
like every girl trying to
"break the mold"
she is the perfect hybrid
of cosmo-reader
and punk rocker

a style of
girl
i know all too well
those girls always fuck the best

the crazzy ones alwyas do

half a bottle of wine
two shots of scotch
and into chopins nocture
c sharp
minor

and i think back
my buddy was a lucky man to miss that bullet
but he probably
missde an excellent fuck

he didnt have enuogh aggression
for that one
for when you ring a barracuda
you gotta pull on er haredr
than it pullls on you
or youll never get er in.

bad habits

2010-02-18T03:08:00.001-04:00

american girl

2010-02-17T20:49:00.000-04:00

i met a girl for lunch
with big lips
a fake tans
and small breasts

we talked about her nagging mother
and all the work she has to do
before she graduates college

shes going to make it
shes tells me
shes going to really make it
the lights, the cameras, the money
she tells me that men like me
men like me
we are just a dime a dozen
she says

i finish my sandwich
and before i leave
i say
'thanks to television
and the internet, babe, girls
like you aint worth the dime"

i rode the bus back
to the apartment
of my buddy's
where i stay
and met a fat chick

i talked to her a while
she was nice
she had class
sometimes it takes a chip
on your shoulder
to treat a man
with some respect.

for all the time, misery, and money

2010-01-25T03:28:00.002-04:00

youd think
there was
more than just
a hole
between those
beautiful legs

a taste of what was

2010-01-25T02:03:00.000-04:00

i walked into my new job
sunday morning
a little less pay
same pack of cigarettes, zippo
and torn flannel

the women come and go in the night
and im left with a bottle
of 100 proof whiskey
with
just enough
left in the bottle
to guide me to the next one

the other night
i met a nice girl in the bar
her name was kate
a little tall
for my taste
but nice
truly nice

and goD only knows what she was
doing in that bar
for it only takes
a few nights
for those low lights
and high spirits
to eat whats
left
of your
soul

i woke up next to her
curled up into my side
the next morning
with her cat walking up
my naked leg

i wasnt ready for shit like this
i thought
domestication
but im gettin damn close
i tell myself
as i slipped out of the covers
slowly

she wasnt ready for a
guy like me
just yet

hopefully she
would pick a new bar.

and i dont have the time to waste anymore

2010-01-20T19:11:00.002-04:00

“Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”
-Pablo Neruda

this is not poetry

2010-01-20T04:12:00.000-04:00

i am
becoming
more
and mroe
convinced

a woman
cannot
love

godd
do they cause me problems

i think ima
buy me
a new
1987
dodge
colt
the leather seats ar
on me

2010-01-18T05:01:00.001-04:00

im sitting in my chair
watching gummo
wondering
where it all
goes

where does my spent time go
but in
the end
the spent
goes to nothing

i was about 4 yeras
old the firsst time
i remember the first time

he woke me up

oh
i forgot

done.

im sure you read this, wtf?

2010-01-17T05:32:00.001-04:00

so i met
every girl ive
liked in 6 months
tonight
on a drunken ramapge

except
the
only one
that matters

what a

waste...

come
meet me
again

love,

dwight riverbottum

but she dont flow to me

2010-01-16T16:28:00.001-04:00

hidden in the hackelberrys

2010-01-16T03:08:00.000-04:00

she tasted a little lonely
the day
i met
her lonely
body

out on the street
corner

a smile
a weird nod

we all knew
we each lookde

for different things
but shes
found what
she

goddamn
watns

so why is she
still looking
in my pools

why is she still floating aruound
"ive had neough" i thought
so i jumped on the bus

and we to memphis
where i could
clear my head
and forget
that

monster.

domino + robutussin

2010-01-14T14:32:00.000-04:00

every shop foreman
labor and employee relations worker
or manager
should learn this song

damn

disney was a
bastard

ask doctor before use

2010-01-12T01:58:00.000-04:00

i drink cough syrup
and look out my second story
window

into the broken city
into the madness
the debauchery

im losing
touch
with what
is

right

and what

is
wrong

but
it
doesnt matter
as much
sometimes

as
just making
it

through

the night

this is the end

2010-01-09T13:55:00.000-04:00

i treat my
life

liek a
movie

i cant figure
out
how it

will
end

y
e .t

so i sit
bakc and wait
with

a
beer
and a cigarette

itll come to me

whetehr
i like
it

or not

the manor cafe

2010-01-08T19:12:00.000-04:00

i ordered a club sandwich
french fries
and a coke

me and al
talked about
little nuances
surrounding our jobs
surrounding our lives
things on the news
the strange weather
we hvae been having

"youve been drinking
a shit load of soda
these days man, like your
sugar rush"

"al, ive been fuckin
tired as hell, i need
the sugar and caffeien
to maek it threw the shift"

i hear
it all the time
from the old guys
at work

they tell me about
how lively
they were when they were
young

well, shit
i thought
i could be like they were
work my 8 hr day
go home have supper
watch a tv show
go to bed a 9
do it again

but fuck
trying to live
a meaningful
existence
is exhausting
as hell

2010-01-07T22:57:00.000-04:00

after me and
tommy
rteurned from the
baars at lunch
mr phillips told us
to go on home
we were losin
half days pay for drinkin
over lunch

tommy flipped shit
through a wrench threw
the shop office window
said
"fuck you phillips
fuck you and your
whole goddamn family
your probably gonna just
take that money
and use it to beat off
at the playground"

tommy had one too many
beers
that
afternoon

i say "tommy lets go home"
we walked down springfield avenue
back to his place
"im pretty smart if i say so myself"
i say
"fat billy, that hairy fabricator
in the back..you know him"

"ya" tommy said

"he's been humpin
with phillips daughter"

"so"

"ima use ur phone, to call her and
tell her daddy fired off
me, u, and billy
shes gonna run on down
to the shop
and announce to 30
beer guzzlin
lady whistlin
machinists
that shes fuckin
ol greasy billy
and that he
cant fire him"

"i havent paid my
bill
in a month
my phone dont work"
tommy told me
a llttle
weaery in the eyes

i pulled a flaskk
out of my jacket
and sat down on the road

myswell finish it
while its warm
i thought

hail ADRIAN

2010-01-07T01:53:00.000-04:00

god this martini
goes so well with limeade

i just raed a bible passage
and its goes

"for god soo loved the EArth, that
HE
gave his ONLY

SON

and unto those
who beleive in HIM
shall have

e t er n a l
life"

i can imagine
bethlehem
now

the star in hte sky
th wisemen
the manager

the son
of THEIR
god was born

everything is fine

2010-01-07T01:45:00.000-04:00

most of us
seem to be sure
of how
great things are
to come

others delusional
to their
surroundings
and manipulating their own
reality
into
what they
desire it to be

and then there's some
who sit here
on this cold porch swingset
in midjanuary
wondering
waiting
and
scared

just hoping
those dark skies
only have a blizzard
waiting behind them.

my friend tommy

2010-01-05T01:42:00.000-04:00

he enters the bars
every night
after his shift
looking for the women

he'll talk to any that return attention
he takes them home
he kisses them
loves them
and walks them to their doors
after a sweet drive home

tommy looks for love
every night
down at sweeney's pub

every afternoon
he cries and
he drinks to forget
the last one

and does it all over again

thats love
my friend tommy
thats love

the play boy

2010-01-03T05:09:00.000-04:00

a man's only weapon in this war, is knowing that if the bar fails, he still has his playboy

2010-01-02T23:52:00.000-04:00

the accountants in the office
were busting the balls
of my foreman
for weeks to finish
the ballast cars
and have them ship by next week

my days have been hell
welding with no end in sight
welding with no overtime pay in sight

im by myself in my bay now
jim stopped coming in last thursday
the story is the he lost his mind
and left his family
to drive to a town far away in canada
called yellow knob..or something like that
he was going to kill the man who stole his gold

i now had the work for two men
and the pay for candybar and a gatorade
but he used to be my ride to work
until i could afford to fix
my fuckin dodge colt

happy new year, chap
heres to another year
of misery
and bullshit

maybe
the women
in the bars
will be a little
looser for me this year

i can only hope.

because we havent found that alternative

2010-01-02T21:20:00.000-04:00

"Nothing was ever in tune. People just blindly grabbed at whatever there was: communism, health foods, zen, surfing, ballet, hypnotism, group encounters, orgies, biking, herbs, Catholicism, weight-lifting, travel, withdrawal, vegetarianism, India, painting, writing, sculpting, composing, conducting, backpacking, yoga, copulating, gambling, drinking, hanging around, frozen yogurt, Beethoven, Back, Buddha, Christ, TM, H, carrot juice, suicide, handmade suits, jet travel, New York City, and then it all evaporated and fell apart. People had to find things to do while waiting to die. I guess it was nice to have a choice."

-Charles Bukowski

the tragedy of it all

2010-01-02T16:20:00.000-04:00

the doctors still
seem to wonder
why women
seem
to almost always
outlive their husbands

why?

the answer

seems
so
outright

because when the passion
the love
and energy
are beaten out of the mule
he has no life
to live.

the urban dictionary

2010-01-02T04:24:00.000-04:00

Barren Run
a terrible period of time in which any single guy goes without it. It can stretch from as little as a week to the longest i know of which is 6 years.(Current Barren Run Record Holder is our Rabid Dog Faced Landlord Rob)

Guy 1: "You get anything this weekend?"

Guy 2: "Nah, man. I'm still on my barren run, nearly 20 months now!"

Guy 1: "Loser!"

sometimes i just laugh
for
the sake
of laughing

smells like..victory

2010-01-02T03:22:00.000-04:00

it is true that 2010 has arrived
2009 was a horrible year
and we can only hope
for better

2010 has the world riding on its shoulder
we have the worlds new vietnam of a war
cyber security issues threatening the fate of
all information
world hunger
an aids epidemic
cancer numbers worldwide are on the rise

my coffee was a bit bitter this morning
after the taste of stale beer
was finally washed out
i sat at the kitchen table of a friends'
wondering what was
wrong
what was right

where i was a year ago
where i am today
life has almost completely rewritten itself
but i have stayed the same man
through it all

capt kilgore's
most intense troubles
in far away saigon
were to find
the gnarliest waves

well, in my case
i know that
some

day
my war
will end.

along the river

2009-12-27T23:49:00.000-04:00

i have deja vu
in places ive never been to before
and sometimes
never
in revisiting places
of years gone by

i remember voice-mails
i remember car rides
i remember living

there was static in between
more car rides
conversations

i sat in the kitchen
talking to an older lady
"so gary told me to lock up the bicycles in the shed
mind you, i had to drive the entire way out
to connellsville, load up these bikes
on my suv, and drive them back
damn asshole probably wont even
give me a christmas bonus"
she said to me
partly for the sake
of being dramatic

"sure" i noted
"but maybe next year
the bikers will come back for christmas
and stay there again"

two days later
upon their checkout
they gave
her
a
$200 tip

"what a nice couple"
she said
"i wish more came through like them"

oh, i thought
how quickly
our feelings
can change.

blogs suck dick

2009-12-23T01:20:00.001-04:00

especially mine.

all i need

2009-12-21T23:35:00.000-04:00

when life got you down
after a long day of work
heading in to shop for christmas gifts you cant afford
it always puts a great feeling in your stomach
to see your ex-girlfriend
making out with a guy you hate more than anything
in a target parking lot

oh yes,
thats all i needed
today.

black-face

2009-12-18T05:22:00.000-04:00

look
at

this

Zeanu:
Some people don't get it.

This is about racism, yes. But not in a purely negative way. More like... awareness.

one more day.

2009-12-17T19:36:00.000-04:00

a shot to the knees
can do a man
a lot of
good

no woman
no job
no good grades
no ambition
no luck
no energy
no sunshine

they like to call this building character

well im chock full of that man

time crunches down on my tired back
but i guess in some time
the mule finally pulls
its
last
load

flashhhhh....ahh savior of the universe

2009-12-17T02:11:00.000-04:00

The girl done at the end of the hallway, is highly peculiar.

She wakes up daily at 4:17am, according to my microwave, by the world's loudest alarm clock. Four minutes later, precisely, turns on the shower. Takes eight minute showers. And leaves, not to return until 11:30pm, right before Conan comes on.

She must've got a boyfriend just last week, because now she never comes back to her room. Of course, I do not think her roommate minds a bit.

My microwave, although, doesn't look the same anymore at 4:17am. It just looks like a microwave.

And not the
answer
to
my
prayers.

we are like vomit in the street outside of a city park

2009-12-16T17:37:00.000-04:00

in order to survive here we must become like animals

WHO

are we to
scoff

at
such
things

but a little

faith

can
take us
a

long long
/way.

who are we

2009-12-16T02:42:00.000-04:00

"Tourism is sin, and travel on foot virtue."
-Werner Herzog

2009-12-16T00:35:00.000-04:00

i eavesdropped on a conversation between a biology professor
and a student today
in a cafe

"people make judgments of the general progress of medical science, by obstacles that we overcome everyday. sure, we haven't cured cancer, but we've eliminated many risk factors contributing to it, on a more grand scale. the generation of youth that you live in may have 20% the chance you parents had, to develop cancer."

the student replied

"i agree that it is oversimplified to "cured" or "not cured". but what makes health care so special? what makes doctors and researchers worth billions of dollars to me. to extend my life, if im not even enjoying it anymore."

the professor answered simply

"i guess its a personal question."

why live
lives of squalor
working 10 hours a day, to come out more in the red
than you
were
when that alarm clock
woke you up
this morning

because sometimes
the television
doesnt always tell the story
of jacobs creek
pennsylvania
where the improvements will never affect
the 3 families all living under
the same roof
that leaks

without a car
without nourishing food
without hope for a better life

fox news headline : healthcare debate
penn state

those who conducts this debate
should have asked the questions
the could help
those
who
really
need
it

intimate moments

2009-12-15T16:56:00.000-04:00

light in back right corner of stage

young man sitting on couch, acting occupied with watching tv, etc.

..enter blonde girl

[blonde girl]: you know what's funny?
pause for answer, man stares blankly ahead without intention to answer.
[blonde girl]: we've dated for 7 months, and not once have you ever mentioned going to the bathroom. i think you wait til i leave.
another pause, the man breaks eye contact with television, looks at girl
[man]: i like it better that way.
[blonde girl]: what, are you embarrassed that i know what you're doing in there?
[man]: if that makes you feel better, then yes.
[blonde girl]: i just listen next to the door next time you go.
[man]: fine.
[blonde girl]: i will.
[man]: the funny thing is, i don't recall you ever "going to the bathroom". but if we must announce this all the time now, we can.
[blonde girl]: (laughing)you're such girl, i love it.

cut scene

stage reset to 3 stalls in a common bathroom

man enters stage

the only one taken is the middle stall

another man washes his hands

[man]: if i enter stalls, i always like the 2 stall courtesy. give a man some space. no one likes to see ankles. no one.
[hand washer]: he's been in there since before i came.
[man]: can't a guy ever get some damn privacy.

curtains close

its just like a tennis game

2009-12-14T02:38:00.000-04:00

when you're just

playing

against a

brick wall..

sending a ball over

and always

getting

a
return

love is a fog that burns with the first daylight of reality

2009-12-14T02:28:00.000-04:00

buk wrote in a letter:

"... don't wait for the good woman. She doesn't exist. There are women who can make you feel more with their bodies and their souls but these are the exact women who will turn the knife into you right in front of the crowd. Of course, I expect this, but the knife still cuts. The female loves to play man against man, and if she is in a position to do it there is not one who will not resist. The male, for all his bravado and exploration, is the loyal one, the one who generally feels love. The female is skilled at betrayal. and torture and damnation. Never envy a man his lady. Behind it all lays a living hell."

and i wonder, why we keep going

in

this madness

a dollar short

2009-12-14T01:03:00.001-04:00

a girl i know
took
her senior
pictures
on her own

with the
false wood paneling
of the her family's
trailer
as the backdrop

her hair done nicely
and a forced smile
to remember
in time

and the world
becomes
all
too
real.

a rich man

2009-12-13T04:53:00.000-04:00

i want to write a movie
about the horrible
life
of the american
white male

about their victimization
about the hardworking
scrawny
quasi-educated

slightly underpaid for their work
by their bosses
underloved for their passion
from their wives
overlooked for their diligence
by their children

forever destined, to be put further down
studying
while their future wives
sleep with men of the night
in college

working
while their current wives
are spending their money
in marriage

and
forgotten
in death
as just another
mule on the
farm

such a large audience
that has an unsung pain

i think im going to write a movie
and then ill be

together

2009-12-12T20:39:00.000-04:00

i was very drunk
and exchanged a passionate kiss
with
a
complete stranger

sometimes
its
easier
that
way.

christmas

2009-12-10T17:05:00.000-04:00

we're now 15 days away
from christmas
that will roll into a new year

40% off tomorrow at jc penneys
pictures with santa
and women are still raped
genocide continues in darfur

but sometimes
that apple cider
with just enough vodka
can help us forget
others' pain.

dont flatter yourself

2009-12-09T20:12:00.000-04:00

we're never as great as we think we are.

cream and two sugars

2009-12-08T18:47:00.002-04:00

i had my coffee today at a local shop
students were crammed desk to desk
studying for tests they all had
coming up

watching the madness
hearing the phone calls
the disgruntled conversations

life is so much easier
if you never made it
to
the
starting
line.

hemingway seconds

2009-12-08T18:38:00.001-04:00

a movie much overlooked in the presence of fear and loathing, and is just as good. if not, better.

sometimes, maybe even less

2009-12-08T01:09:00.002-04:00

"I think we all care just as much about our coal miners as we do our deer and turkey."

-Steve Earle

fool on the hill

2009-12-08T00:58:00.001-04:00

every few nights
i go down to the convenience store
and grab a pack of smokes
just placing the cigarette between my lips
and cupping the flame of my zippo is calming
i walk the back alleys of my town
taking pictures of obscurities in the night
listening to the music of the club down the street

"i'm happy for you"
a man told me
"that you can take enjoyment out of things
like just walking through town"

"you haven't experienced my depression"

he was right
we know not of any pain
except our own

my own pain was of failure
love lost
hope lost
sanity lost

i calmed my stomach with cigarettes
the occasional beer
and heavy doses of southern rock

feeling distant from even my own family
and friends
i wrote in the evenings
eventually developed the best recipe for vodka-7
i have ever tasted
and would from time to time pass out on the grassing hill
adjacent to my apartment

coffee and cigarettes every morning
just to take the sting of the first ray
cresting the horizon

go to work
go to school
keep your hair washed
teeth brushed
hold the door for ladies
look relaxed and happy

because one day
a woman will look at you
and be attracted to the
beautifully sown
citizen you have grown into
and you will have 2.5 children
divorce after 10 years
pay alimony

go to the bar in search of your soul
children are married
the awkward glances and memories
a heart attack
3 days of mourning
place my box in the ground
bury me with it

and sometimes i wonder
if my hope
is
just
too
naive.

prejudice

2009-12-07T03:06:00.000-04:00

an overcrowded version of phoenix

2009-12-07T01:50:00.001-04:00

"There are times, however, and this is one of them, when even being right feels wrong. What do you say, for instance, about a generation that has been taught that rain is poison and sex is death? If making love might be fatal and if a cool spring breeze on any summer afternoon can turn a crystal blue lake into a puddle of black poison right in front of your eyes, there is not much left except TV and relentless masturbation. It's a strange world. Some people get rich and others eat shit and die. Who knows?"
-Dr. Hunter S. Thompson

2009-12-07T01:34:00.000-04:00

the little clips still turn up
so do the pictures or thoughts

when the romantic ideas of life
devolve into quiet rides
to different restaurants
different women
different waiters
the idea of getting that perfect glass of wine
with that perfect conversation
becomes a hope to never be fulfilled

because in the end
whether its an idea
or a place
or a person
our entire childhood
all that we knew and loved
slowly and methodically decays and rots
into the soft earth beneath us
until all that is left
is the remnants of our souls

and tonight i tell another hostess
another table for two
smoking, please
order for me and new lady tonight
she tells me a story about her friends' new job

the only thing that will get me through another night
of these mindless games
is another cigarette turning to ash
and a bottle

agreed

2009-12-07T01:07:00.000-04:00

""A man didnt have to have a women in order to feel as real as he could feel, but it was good if he knew a few. Then when the affair went wrong he'd feel what it was like to be truely lonely and crazed, and thus know what he must face, finally, when his own end came.

I was sentimental about many things: a womens shoes under the bed; one hairpin left behind on the dresser; the way they said, "im going to pee..."; hair ribbons; walking down the boulevard with them at 1:30 in the afternoon, just two people walking together; the long nights of drinking and smoking, talking; the arguements; thinking of suicide; eating together and feeling good; the jokes; the laughter out of nowhere; feeling miracles in the air; being in a parked car together; comparing past loves at 3am; being told you snore; hearing her snore; mothers, daughters, sons, cats, dogs; sometimes death and sometimes divorce, but always carrying on, always seeing it through; reading a newspaper alone in a sandwich joint and feeling nausea because shes now married to a dentist with an I.Q. of 95; racetracks, parks, park picinics; even jails; her dull friends, your dull friends; your drinking, her dancing; your flirting, her flirting; her pills, your fucking on the side, and her doing the same; sleeping together....

there were no judgements to be made, yet out of necessity one had to select. Beyond good and evil was all right in theory, but to go on living one had to select: some were kinder than others, some were simply more interested in you, and sometimes the outwardly beautiful and inwardly cold were necessary, just for bloody shitty kicks, like a bloody, shitty movie. The kinder ones fucked better, really, and after you were around them a while they seemed beautiful because they were. I thought of Sara, she had that something extra. if only there was no Drayer Baba holding up that damned STOP sign."

best page of anything ever."

the best book, you've never read.

"we're gonna push the envelope" -larry clark

2009-12-04T03:54:00.002-04:00

2009-12-04T03:45:00.000-04:00

mixing vodka limes
and sitting in my chair
in the cold winter of central pennsylvania
brings a deep contrast
to warmer summer nights
on the beaches of del mar
lying on the sand
and the humble ripples of the south china sea
seem to still resonate in my ear
tanker ships in the distance
a few beers
a good friend
a beautiful girl
interning as a curator from san francisco joined us
we talked of life, love, happiness
we talked of nothing

the glow of oil rigs and tankers glittered the horizons
and carried everything i see in front of me now
to the land of the free
i saw the faces of the men with callused hands
who work the shops who make my keyboard
i ordered my breakfast off a man in a small fedora
cooking prata for 14 hours a day
to make a living

"i find the world beautiful"
la'rita told us
"i enjoy every minute of each day"

it was much easier
to sit on the beach
and drink that night
than to empathize a culture

so i raised cambodian brew
to the man
who would
cook my breakfast
the next
morning

hoping the light
on his
horizons
would be
brighter
than my
oil
tankers.

"i don't know if i missed something"

2009-12-02T21:22:00.001-04:00

88

2009-12-02T20:03:00.000-04:00

"First of all, Papa Smurf didn't create Smurfette. Gargamel did. She was sent in as Gargamel's evil spy with the intention of destroying the Smurf village. But the overwhelming goodness of the Smurf way of life transformed her. And as for the whole gang-bang scenario, it just couldn't happen. Smurfs are asexual. They don't even have... reproductive organs under those little, white pants. It's just so illogical, you know, about being a Smurf. You know, what's the point of living... if you don't have a dick?"

-Donnie Darko

stop, truck.

2009-12-02T03:10:00.000-04:00

if you breathe deeply enough
and take a short walk up westerly parkway
left on university drive
follow a path through the woods
along a gas line
there is a little place
i like to go to
late some nights

its the only place
quiet enough
to hear
the earth
and finally see
all the pretty houses
and gardens

the mothers and daughters
the the window sill
knitting in the living room
dinner on the stove
the televisions tuned into the evening news

the young sons leaving their roominghouses
early before dawn
to work for just enough money
to put into the pile
for dad to pay rent this month

the middle-aged dot com star
waking up with his young ladies
on each side
laying on his satin sheets
waking up at 2pm

it all becomes much clearer
lying on the dewy grass
staring upward
cigarette in hand

that when you go to bed on those satin sheets
sometimes
you still might just end up
right back
on the living room floor
right
where
i
belong.

a taste of perspective

2009-12-01T22:36:00.001-04:00

i met a writer today
from just outside the city
he lives in a condo in shadyside
his father is a prestigious trial lawyer
and mother is an accountant at the local hospital
he attends a very expensive liberal arts college

he writes of his extensive trials
"money isn't happiness
my life is depressing"
he has tried designer drugs
designer women
vacations in europe
"i still havent found what i'm looking for
so i put it all down on paper
and maybe
i'll find it in the blathering"

"no"
i said
"because you're looking in all the wrong places"

we drove out of the city limit
and up to mount davis
and made mountain pies
on the fire started by his wallet
his money, bank cards, credit cards
his took a second bite
and smiled
"one step at a time"
he said, placing the keys
to his mercedes
back in his pant pocket.

with only one escape

2009-12-01T18:13:00.000-04:00

"We are
Born like this
Into this
Into these carefully mad wars
Into the sight of broken factory windows of emptiness
Into bars where people no longer speak to each other
Into fist fights that end as shootings and knifings
Born into this
Into hospitals which are so expensive that it’s cheaper to die
Into lawyers who charge so much it’s cheaper to plead guilty
Into a country where the jails are full and the madhouses closed
Into a place where the masses elevate fools into rich heroes"

-Hank Chinaski

reality

2009-12-01T17:54:00.001-04:00

sex has become a tool
destroyed by focus on quantity

it is only preserved by those
who strive
for quality

and for that
we look down under.

polaris

2009-11-30T05:01:00.000-04:00

i walked down to a street corner
to meet with some friends
and to share a few drinks

we walked up to the second light
and traveled to a place of my friend
of mine
he was having a small get together
a few beers, vodka-7's, and conversation
passed the hours
til we all walked back towards my place
the drinks sanded off the sharp edges of words
and actions in my memory
but every once in a while
when the drinks are mixed just right
i seem to remember

a warm summer night
an exchange of a few whispers
smiles
numbers
a few more drinks
a hard landing into the bed

toast and coffee
the next morning
still wondering
if i was as smooth
as i thought i was

the answer that night
was
no

because sometimes you look someone in the eye
and see something different
that overturns your tables for the first time
in years
you see right through yourself
and your own nonsense
something you cant read about in a book
or even put onto paper

the answer that night
was
no

because we all lead lives
see struggles and triumphs in different ways
we feel the breeze in more than just against our skin
but lifting you

the answer that night
was
no

because sometimes even with the hardest
attempts to shrug off stupid exchanges
ships passing in the night
pushing away silly notions
your gut pushes you back to where you belong
whether you come gracefully
kicking and screaming
or are just driving down the road

all it takes are one set of eyes
to feel for the first time
maybe..
sometimes naturally
others obscenely.

all you can do

2009-11-30T03:57:00.000-04:00

"I'm not one of those complicated, mixed-up cats. I'm not looking for the secret to life.. I just go on from day to day, taking what comes.”

-Frank Sinatra

my friend john

2009-11-30T03:53:00.000-04:00

there is not much to be said
for a life
of security
a path drawn straight in the sand
all for
you

john wakes up
every morning
at 8am
gets a shower
picks out a coordinated outfit
goes to his classes
gets lunch with his girlfriend
and talks about things that happened
to him
that day

he goes back to his place
works over his homework
completes his readings
watches sportscenter at 11
and falls asleep

john talks to me
about how great he has it
and wonders how i live day to day
without plans or decisions
without securities
without a warm, snug body to curl up against
and watch movies until we fall asleep

its not that its easy
and its not as if im not jealous
we all want a blanket of security
we all want a person to pat our backs
we all want a person to lunch with everyday
but security breeds mediocrity
both in art and in character

and in the end
i fuck better as a bum
than as a puncher of timeclocks

and when the nights grow longer
and the money doesnt do the trick
the ladies crawl to the men
who treat them as a gift for a brief time
than as a property for years.

yes

2009-11-28T23:57:00.001-04:00

"I like letting her drive the car on dark nights
when the road and the way have gotten to me,
the car radio on
we light cigarettes and talk about things
and now and then
become silent."

-Henry Charles Bukowski

diet soda

2009-11-28T23:53:00.003-04:00

i get into the car
light a cigarette
and drive
to a 24-hour diner
20 minutes down 119

there is a pretty waitress
named june
she talks about her angry boyfriend
her two cats
counts her tips at the end of each night
and hopes she has just enough
letting the credit cards cover the rest

i order a coffee and sandwich
smoke through a pack of marlboros
just sitting and listening to her stories
"he's really not a bad guy
he just gets like that
when he drinks"
she defends
"but he brought white roses three nights ago
he knows theyre my favorite"

her beautiful eyes told me all there was to know
about her and him
about why i drove down to fairchance
on those lonely nights
about why chillable red tasted
just a tad sweeter in early july

because sometimes we can be lost
tasting something
that
isnt
there.

how much do you charge for hauntin' houses?..how many rooms?

2009-11-26T14:41:00.000-04:00

because no one listens for it anyways

2009-11-25T02:41:00.000-04:00

"I never cared so much about making perfect sense. I wanted to make perfect nonsense. I wanted to tell jokes, but I didn`t give a fuck about the punch line."

-Harmony Korine

a tired old man

2009-11-25T02:30:00.000-04:00

ive become a tired old man
getting up at 7:15am
let my dog out
i walk him up the road
to the second telephone pole
walk back along the tree-line

watch the news with coffee and toast
walk down back to the workshop
hammer the tires back onto the tubes and rims
of the farmall bn

lunch of pickle and pimiento sandwich
pot of coffee
pittsburgh post gazette

6 o clock news
jeopardy
call my brother up in town to see whats new
let the dog out again
shut the lights off in the kitchen
turn them on, on the porch

tomorrow its supposed to rain, high of 92.

a response to nwo

2009-11-23T00:28:00.001-04:00

"i predict in the near future right-wingers will use drug hysteria as a pretext to set up an international police apparatus"
-William Burroughs

to the ladies

2009-11-23T00:24:00.001-04:00

out there tonight
who like ice cream, red wine
and fast cars

walking slow, whispering softly
and living loudly

looking sharp, acting fresh
and listening loosely

drink slowly tonight
the wine tastes much better on ocean avenue
than the stale beer on skid row

which is where
we all
eventually
land.

football seasons over. no more games. no more bombs.

2009-11-21T02:15:00.000-04:00

"Death is very often referred to as a good career move."
-Charles Hardin Holley

gravity

2009-11-21T02:06:00.001-04:00

after a long shift at the fab shop
i locked up
and drove my truck down to the gas station
to grab a pack of cigarettes and a mineral water
the cashier was young, probably my age
beautiful blonde

i gave her a smile
a pocket full of change
we exchanged some easily forgettable words

i pulled out of the lot
sat at the stop sign
and the truck stalled when i tried to shift gears

shut the old thing off
gave the carburetor a little gas
and revved up the old 350 and went off into the night
away from a job with little pay
a life with no way out
spending my summer night alone
on the banks of the river
layin on the truck hood
wishin to share my space with a good girl

gathered some sticks and made a fire down under the trees canopy
fetched some pbr's from under my seat
a little warm
but they chilled in the cold april waters

a young boy like me
aint sure yet which ways up
and which ways down
because we all know
that same flower that smiles today
tomorrow could be dying

hopefully
tomorrow
i have more to offer
than a pocket full of change.

he who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man

2009-11-19T16:05:00.000-04:00

"with the right kind of eyes, you can almost see the high-water mark - the place where the wave broke and rolled back."

-dr. hunter s. thompson

under pressure

2009-11-19T02:24:00.001-04:00

you have your good days
and you have your bad days

days in which you cant quite get out of bed
cant quite find a reason to keep on trying

coal miners getting up to work for a pay
too small to cover their interest payments
each day owing more and more of themselves
to the credit cards
life becomes a frantic run to a finish line
that is moving away faster than you can run towards it
and yet we still run

run from our childhood dreams
from the promises we made ourselves
from the beautiful colorful dynamic world

into a world of black and white
static pay
static relationships
static meals

until that final straw
brings it all the a halt
and we pull
the wool
away

i'd like to write a song about hair-dos, not about the people under them

2009-11-18T19:34:00.001-04:00

"i'm afraid that everything will get homogenized and be the same. "
-david byrne

because sometimes there's nothing left

2009-11-18T04:32:00.000-04:00

"people who don't drink are afraid of revealing themselves"
-Humphrey Bogart

15 minutes

2009-11-18T01:38:00.000-04:00

i walked down to the mini-mart
grabbed a pack of cigarettes
and flints for a zippo
all paid for in change

i sat out on the curb of college avenue
lit my cigarette
and thoughts of all the women
running circles through my mind

they all scamper around in their
college years
shes laying down for him tonight, im sure
shes drinking straight from the bottle
laughing and carousing

im taking one more drag from this cigarette
with a scant remembrance of the times we once shared
of the nights we shared in laughter
ive grown out of those shackles for some time now

but the women do no less damage
do my arms look muscular enough for her?
am i smart enough?
in the end it all doesnt matter
they know who they want much deeper than that
but on a night like tonight
it could never hurt to have some backup on your side
to hear that the light at the end of the tunnel
is in the distance

to see that light sometimes you have to walk far out of town
up to the peak of nittany mountain in the distance
for there is nothing better
than to meet the morning sun
with a cigarette in hand
a woman on your mind
and hope in your heart.

the new path

2009-10-03T01:31:00.000-04:00

i suppose that all feelings
memories of those who we love
are replaced
with something new, different
sometimes for better
others for worse

we accept them as a key to the new lives we lead
the lives that seemingly seem to move on
whether we are ready to or not
whether we are ready to give up old friends for a new job
the world spins

i sit alone in bowties
dreaming of one last cigarette
"rita, another coffee?" i ask
and sit next to a few co-workers of mine
complaining about money, lovers, weather
and life

but in the end
that last cigarette burns into ash
the morning sun comes up
calling us to the morning shifts
the miserable bosses
whose face sags to the floor
tired of working hours off the clock
to make ends meet in the bowels of the suburbs

maybe we all just need a break
or a hug
a cigarette, or maybe rita to wait
just a little
before making last call.

a new beginning

2009-01-01T16:04:00.000-04:00

there seems to be a unilateral movement
among the citizens of the world
that at any ambiguous point that we choose
be it the new year, a new quarter, new fiscal year
new semester, new home, or new car
that all that past is gone
last night
migrations of people
ran into the smoke filled bar across the street
to throw back a cup of cheer
for days gone by
watch a 6-ton metal ball
covered in around 30,000 light emitting diodes
and wake up tomorrow with a hang over
a hungry belly
and a misdirection for a new year

for me, i don't understand why we choose
that today is the new beginning
why today is the day to run the streets
with fireworks and guns
pots and pans
and glasses of beer and champagne
i don't see why one would want to ring in their new year
without a clear countenance and direction
but instead with alcohol and resolutions

i sat on my bed last night
and nearing 4am i put in an old movie
that i never had the power to finish
a movie that gave me new insights into my own world
i rung in my new year
without many frills
without alcohol
or distractions
i rung in my own "new year"
with a vision for success and happiness
and how my own happiness is sought
will be not by following others directions
but by following my own heart
because the way that i see it
it is always fun to give in to the parties
and the alcohol and the nights you will never remember
when the only alternative in sight is a night
spent in
by yourself
but those are the nights
that you make the right moves
to make yourself into the creator
of the nights that everyone remembers.

to love

2008-12-22T01:45:00.000-04:00

one of the biggest tokens
that can be taken from a relationship
is self-discipline

and in my life
all of the discipline i have learned
has come through pain and anguish
the pain that only a real woman
can bring into a man's heart
and in the last two years
the pain she has brang me has been
short and acute
but its effects
are like tinnitus on the heart
an ever-ringing
and reminding
homage to the pain and sacrifices
i have made to this point

but many young and unmatured relationships
have felt growing pains
even as i spoke to two friends of mine
that have been married only a short time
i have seen the same pitfalls
both have ears for only their own mouths
both give only what they expect to receive
and both extrapolate their current situation to a far away future
its sad to imagine
the beautiful relationships that have been lost
as a lack of discipline
they both fight and call names
to accomplish little more
than to hurt feelings and to live in dismay

in fact, there is a feeling of down
that my own relationships have given me
that i wish i had never loved at all
i never involved myself
i wish that i only met this beautiful blonde girl
in passing
in a little cafe at the corner of springfield and 4th
we sit at tables opposite the room
but we both battle back and forth
to stare
and look away
drink our coffee
pay our bills
and have dreams about this beautiful girl
who passed by my grips
and who has never hurt me in real life
let this beautiful girl stay frozen into her best sterility
if only in my mind
for it is much easier to love
a woman from your dreams
than to love the woman of your dreams

it is much easier to live life in the corners
than to live in the lights of hollywood
revealing our faults and blemishes
revealing our secret lives and lies
revealing our downfalls
it is much easier to live life beyond worries of word choice
and gift choice
beyond drunken nights with a beautiful blonde
and instead with a ibm selectric and a few shed tears

in fact
the discipline a relationship has taught me
is that pain and spotlight
are my only way to live
to go out into the world
and knock on the dorm room doors
calling out the women
living beyond worry for judgment
on any of the minute particulars

these are the lives that can be enjoyable
because as i live my life in shadow
and regret
i have learned that i can please
no one but myself
i must go out into the world
and beyond fear of failure
i must find my love
and pursue it
i must find what makes me happy
and i must be it
i must discipline my heart
to deal with pain
because i have learned that we only can learn
through pain and suffering
that is what makes the world tick
every day

and i hope that one day
as a i sit in my chair
in that coffee shop on springfield
that i see my beautiful blonde lady
and instead of a staring back and forth
i stand up
and take action
maybe she wants no parts of me sitting with her
and maybe the room will laugh as she dumps her coffee
on my brand new chinos
and shoes
but atleast
i can sleep a little better
knowing that as time goes by
i know where my heart is.

PNAMBIC

2008-12-06T05:23:00.000-04:00

"i opened the door and walked out on the porch. there was a strange cat out there. he was a huge creature, a tom, with a shining black coat and luminous yellow eyes. he wasn't frightened of me. he walked up purring and rubbed against one of my legs. i was a good guy and he knew it. animals knew things like that. they had an instinct."
-charles bukowski, 'women'

on a clear and chilly night in december just before finals
i decided to take in a concert at the local theater
where a rhythm and blues artist i was rather fond of
was to play that evening

i left my room around quarter til eight
and began to walk up the hill and towards the illuminated theater in the distance

when i arrived
my ticket was scanned
i was directed to portal 6
where a lovely lady named judy
directed me to section n3
row 7, seat 8
down on the floor
very close to the stage

i had gone alone
so listening in on conversations around me
became a game i played to pass the time
until the artist would take the stage

i found out through one of the conversations carrying on around me
mr. stephens, the night's performer, recently released an album
also, the people around me seemed to adore his new songs and went on and on
about his new style but I began to lose interest
when conversation eventually drifted into christmas decorations

i was moderately intrigued to see
the presentation this new age r&b artist
would perform on the stage
i found his music very plain and unordained
but i appreciated it for that
i found his music to be against popularity and having more personal intentions behind his works
so i was surprised he filled the hundreds of seats in the audience

finally, after what seemed to be a very long time of waiting and eavesdropping
the lights dimmed in a theater
giving the cue the show was to begin
in the darkness a television screen behind the main stage lit up with black and white pictures of mr. stephens
in a boxing uniform

mr. john stephens then appeared at the top of the theater steps
in sunglasses, leather jacket, and tight pants
it wasn't what i necessarily expected and was affronting at the moment
but the look worked and was very well coordinated

as he walked onto the stage
three back-up singers also entered with a band
as well as a handful of back-up dancers
machines filled the stage with smoke
and the lights were perfectly in sync with the bass rhythms and choreography

i was entertained
but i felt offended
that was the moment i felt a disconnect between myself and the mr. stephens i thought i knew
in my room at home it was easy to draw vivid pictures in my mind of who i wanted john stephens to be
but the first taste of a reality not in tune with the john stephens in my mind
one frozen into his best sterility and untainted by the world of hollywood
was a taste that would have ruined my entire night

i sat in the crowd, very upset for a large portion of the night
ordinary props such as smoke, fiery lighting, and back-up singers if used by any other artist
would have been white noise
but when john stephens used these tools
i felt betrayed by the false reality i created around john stephens
that had finally clashed with the reality i faced that night

but regardless of my invisible internal struggle
mr. stephens continued to be larger than life on stage
captivating the crowd from beginning to end
he even came down off the stage after the song 'slow dance'
and serenaded a girl who it was apparent had stopped breathing the second he touched her arm
he walked her up the stairs and onto the stage
and began dancing very gracefully and romantically
he whispered in her ear
and while she stood trembling in the midst of the lights shining down on her
mr. stephens walked over to a grand piano on stage
reached into the strings of the piano
a pulled out a red rose
handed it to the girl
pecking her on the cheek with a smile
and sending her on her way back to her seat

it was then i realized that it was me all along
judging who john stephens was or who he was not
deciding in my mind whether i was betrayed by him
or by false expectations
i never stopped to consider my error in my judgment
he seemed a genuine and kind gentleman
if only by making the night of that girl in december

but, it was easy to view him as an imposter
for whom i did not buy tickets to see
but even his kind and romantic gesture had not saved mr. stephens
in my mind that night, i still had a disdain for my choice
to come
wishing that i had left my view of john stephens as the rhythm and blues
i had in my mind, unstained by the anger of that night

and before i gave myself the chance
to actually open my ears
without judgment
he gave his best to the town and disappeared in the darkness
behind the curtain

some audience members left
while others scavenged for spare lighters and cell phones to wave about
and began to plead for an encore
in the few concerts i have attended
i never knew an artist to turn down this opportunity
and soon enough john stephens reemerged from the curtains

but now the man from behind the curtains came with no back-up singers
he had no sunglasses
he was now in a black suit and tie
he bowed at the audience with a smile
and sat at the same piano he earlier pulled a rose from
this time there were no colored lights or smoke
just one single white light shining down
and he began to play his old rhythm and blues
the rhythm and blues i had been hoping for
the first few notes he played
gave me a feeling in my heart i get
when i know i have disappointed someone i care about
it was the feeling that i was all wrong about everything
that he had not left his roots behind
as he developed into a musical star
he saved the best for last

he began to sing
while the audience maintained a charmingly out of tune duet
i felt a sense of unity and belonging
i felt a sense of understanding
and i felt a need to undo all of my judgments i shroud good people with
i was not betrayed by john stephens
i betrayed john stephens by making judgments i never had the right to make
i never gave his new work the chance it deserved

the john stephens i wished to be there the whole night
was standing right behind that curtain
but, finally i realized that he was no different than the man who sang with backup singers and dancers

only the john stephens behind the curtain, though
could open my eyes to my own injustices

to the way i have judged so many
by their word or actions
far before i ever gave them a chance
to open up that curtain
and prove to me that
their masquerades were just
evolutions of their former self
a tough shell to disguise their vulnerability
or maybe just an experiment of character

who was i to judge what john stephens was that night
he was on his own journey, as we all are
a journey he will hold the only right to judge
and a journey that had created his famous persona 'john legend'
a name well-known in the music industry
created by a much less known writer
of whom i know almost nothing
and clearly much too little
to judge

i walked home that night
through the cold city
warmed up by all the faces of the bystanders
seeing what i missed all along
and finally being able to go home
to sit not in judgment or in thought
or in fear or in bravery
but just to sit in my warm alcove
drinking a cup of coffee by the fire place
finally at my best
listening to old dandelions fertilize the earth
while it all comes down to
the tick of the clock
and the sugarspoon.

seeing the light at the end of the tunnel

2008-12-01T17:13:00.000-04:00

"midway upon the road of our life I found myself within a dark wood, for the right way had been missed."
-dante alighieri

the best times of my young life
have been spent in the hills of barren run
named after a small tributary to the much larger jacobs creek
barren run has never been barren in all of my years
no matter how long the drought
jacobs creek would have grass growing in its bed before you would notice barren run to be any different

and in a little cove along barren run
about a mile up the creek from my pap's house
i would swim with my brother while my pap would fish down stream
the days were long and warm in that hollow
that was nestled between two mountains
and there was always a whistling breeze that would shoot down the hollow
and towards the mountainous area of jacobs creek

after our long days of rope swing jumps into the ice cold waters
and eating the lunches packed by my grandmother of pickle and pimiento sandwiches
a small plastic bag of granola and a large thermos of coffee for pap
we would then pack everything up
and head downstream back to pap's house
the house always had a smell of an old book
it may have been the old set of encyclopedias by the door
pap bought then in 1966 grandma said because
"he couldn't stop b.s.-ing with that darn salesman"
but pap was always good for a conversation
to say the least

other than conversation
the only thing he loved more
was working on tractors down in his garage by the creek
no matter how hot or cold the day
at the crack of dawn he was washed
and went down to the garage
every summer afternoon i would spend with him
amazed at the room filled with "works in progress"
ford engines on blocks with wrenches and oil scattered all about
i always tried to learn as much i could
learning what went where and why
over pap's workbench was his old 'stoney's brewery' neon light
the neon had mostly leaked out in the years he had it
yet still shone with a sky blue tint
and had a buzzing sound when it was on
i always could see why men in barren run would get up at seven in the morning in the dead of winter
to go into their garages never to leave until dusk
i could always see how men could live for nothing but a post-gazette, a pot of coffee, and a pickle and pimiento sandwich
they would then go home at dusk and watch the evening news over some spaghetti and italian bread
then relax watching a game of jeopardy and wheel of fortune
do some things around the house
go to bed
tomorrow would be the same day all over again
it was a beautiful thing

the most vivid memory of that garage
was looking out the old window in his tool room
the glass was uneven and turning a bluish green
but the window framed the far-off 'copperhead mountain'
the mountain that as a child i always romanticized and feared
because pap always told me that on the top of the mountain
there were dens of copperheads
of which i have always been deathly afraid of
but from his garage
the mountain was beautiful
and distant
through it ran the norris tunnel
an old abandoned railroad tunnel that was a mile in length
was inaccessible and distant
for the longest time in my childhood
i never knew what was on the other side of copperhead mountain
other than wilderness and the unexplored
but i was always curious of who built it
and why they did

but the people who lived in barren run for years
either did not know it existed
or did not know why it was there
and as a child
i loved this mystery
i love this piece of constancy that no matter
in the dead of night
or the cold of winter
always remained standing waiting for me to finally
take the leap of faith
to find out what was through that tunnel

the 'stoney's' neon glow has now been replaced
by the neon light of the 'inferno brick oven & bar' shining bright red into my new bedroom from the street below
the unavoidable light penetrates my room and reflects in the mirror to the opposite of my bed
complemented by all the lights of east college avenue
the 'inferno' stares me down each night
the quiet nights spent in my grandfather's garage have been replaced by
the noise of cars, ambulence sirens, and drunken students hollering into the night
each night after they leave the 'inferno'

and i knew that as time went by
my quiet became the sounds of drunken students leaving the inferno
my barren run became state college
in a matter of months
i became the stranger of barren run
the passer by
and it never occurred to me
the severity of my condition
until i no longer wished to walk down to barren run anymore
i no longer wished to pop by pap's garage
i would much rather travel back to state college
and see that stylishly crafted 'inferno' glow on my eyelids as i fell asleep
than hear the buzz of that dusty 'stoney's' neon light from the 70's

of course, it never occurred to me that i would adjust so quickly to college life
this fast-paced lifestyle brought to me
what farmlands and rolling hills never did
a new found sense of intellectualism
plays, the most distinguished speakers, sporting events, parties, and night-life
life goes by so fast
i hardly ever notice it passing
in the city things fly by like a breeze in the night
words surround me everywhere
flyers, billboards, receipts, textbooks, newspapers, emails
it all blends together
and you begin to feel like you're losing the beauty
of simplicity

in the country
i noticed things
i knew mr. kompasky was selling his farm in the end of october
i knew when the bechmen's bought a new truck
i knew what time the train would roll through the hills

but the country is easily forgettable because of this
college life is very exciting, new, exhilarating, and memorable
after all it is a business
but when my tests came back with grades i hadn't expected
papers came due far before i was confident in them
and my energy starts to dwindle when the effects of coffee fail
the city turns into a bitter place

when you beg for quiet in the night
the 'inferno' spills out students making their own barren runs
barren runs for beer
from life
and from the overwhelming realities that come with this new world

guided by their passions
they run their last barren run through the dark streets and alleys
to only return to their own hellish retreats far on the other side of state college
i sit perched on the hill
far above east college avenue
i was stuck between pain and failure
between book and mind
working only as a buffer between my mind's hard drive
and a text book

and this purgatory made me revert
to the barren run that never ran barren
that filled my heart with the inspiration to fight through the hard times
for tomorrow would always be another pickle and pimiento sandwich and a pot of coffee
there was no failure in barren run
that was life beyond failure
how could i fail?
i learned how to fix pap's old farmall super-a's
in the winter i would keep the garage warm by shoveling coal into the furnace
pulling the lever up and down to stoke up the flames

there was a calming romance
looking through that bluish green glass toward copperhead mountain framed in the wall
like an old tin photograph found in the old junk piles along the walls
of old coffee cans full of bent nails
used motor oil
and life

barren run was never barren of life
barren run was never barren of morality, love, or pickle and pimiento sandwiches
it was full and vibrant
simple and beautiful

it was always a good feeling to be connected with the past
with my grandfather and father
with the mysterious tunnel through copperhead mountain
that in my own coming-of-age
i finally passed through
through my fears
pulled by my passions
through the earth of copperhead mountain
to my face the unknown wilderness and derision on the other side
when i finally made it
i found an deep gorge cut by jacobs creek
and a magnificent rusty trestle traversing the valley
it was pure wilderness
ineffable in its nature
i had read that the old president of the abandoned railroad that built the tunnel
stopped a train on a siding near here
on fair sunday afternoons
to have a picnic with his family and take in the view of the valley
and on that day
i saw him and his family enjoying a lunch taking in the beauty of the nothingness
the barren wilderness
i saw the moving parts behind the aesthetics of nature
full of life and history
where wildcatters built viaducts through the valley
and old abandoned iron furnaces along the creek below
their histories all shrouded in mystery

and i have never seen the valley again
whether it be fear, incertitude, or lack of motivation
i have never passed through the tunnel since that day
yet my passions still pull me
through that tunnel
back to barren run
to run away from exams and term papers
to run away from a life determined by chapter and section
midterm and final
to make one last barren run through the old norris tunnel
marionetted by my passions
because only what has been lost
can ever be found.

thanks giving

2008-11-30T01:48:00.000-04:00

the most difficult thing in the world to do
especially in achieving happiness
is to pull the wool over your eyes and go back to sleep

we line up for our daily races
to never make the differences we set out for
we settle for meaningless conversations over wine
good deals on televisions
dinner dates
movies

our lives melt away
into the ideas of capitalism and money
our souls give way
to greed and satisfactions
our relationships disintegrate
into sex and arguments

there are no alternatives
except for
games of cards on saturday nights
and the last bottle of heineken

in the end
we all line back up
the very next day
to
do
it
all
over
again

oh, the injustice.

2008-11-17T02:29:00.000-04:00

if it doesn't get you now,
it will surely get you later,
no man or woman is safe.
for in all of time,
we all aspire to become something,
the lover, the rich, the famous, the envied, the forgotten.
and in time,
we all become something much greater,
dust.
fertilizing the dandelions in the meadow,
lie thousands of the rich and the famous,
fertilizing my turnips are the envied,
and if i am correct,
the forgotten are for the worms.
i, of course, know my own realities,
see my future downfalls,
uphold injustices of the world,
and seize the day, if it's convenient.

the girls used to say to me, "you're so negative."
the phrase almost illuminated within a dark contrast of derision and suffering.
but as time passes and the girls become women,
i find that they have become negative, and i, all the more positive.

so as they enthrall themselves with self-gratification,
more and more make-up, girl talks and deriding their male counterparts,
i've found myself basking in the beauty of the earth.

not necessarily the people on it,
let's just go one step at a time now.

the genius of the town

2008-11-16T19:48:00.000-04:00

lately i have made many new acquaintances here at penn state
all of whom have different goals in life and directions
there are future doctors and writers
there are engineers and lawyers
and there are business majors and accountants.

they all
in one way
or another
have dreams of making immense wealth
or fame
of making major impacts for our nation
and our world.

all of whom
possess one major flaw
that will
inevitably
drive them
into
oblivion.

whether it be those who raise money for pediatric cancer
from others wallets
while using their own money
to purchase kegs and liquor
or, of course, those who spend all
day in their room
without ever leaving their vest pockets
stuck on a number, or an idea
destined for riches and wealth.

education is no longer
the pillar of society
we once viewed it
but instead
the breeding grounds
of greed, lust, and insanity
and those who survive
lead the world
the inevitable
the treasure.

in the end, our imaginations lose out

2008-11-13T16:03:00.001-04:00

one of the biggest shortcomings
of the modern concept of love
is that we all will find it.

and with no barriers
no questions
and no cautiousness
we head out into the world
hoping that, we will find love.

desperation drives ordinary men
to become imaginative men
that fabricate the world around them
into the world they want it to be
by attitude
"it's all a matter of attitude" , they all say.
but when the attitude wears out
the money stops rolling in
the calls stop
all that is left is truth.

that light at the end of the tunnel
finally fades out to the tune
of chopin's nocturne in c#
and our last glass of white wine
will always taste, just a bit better
than the last.

the good fight

2008-11-12T12:18:00.000-04:00

i met a man on the bus
who told me of "the good fight"
he works two jobs
and just manages to squeeze by.

"life is hard, when you fight the good fight"
he told me.

"it isn't easy to work the night shift at the mill, come home to a crying baby, or a miserable wife. you know i haven't been laid in three months."

it seems that we all
for reasons unknown
hold onto these endless battles
all in hopes that one day
the fruit of our toils will pay off.

at his funeral the local mill's night shift was there
his oldest brother was there
and his pastor came as well.

"his wife left him" the man said "how can you blame him? she's all he had, her and that daughter"

where his wife was the day they laid him to rest
no one was quite sure
he got what he wanted
he lived as a martyr
and died as a martyr

in covered in earth
the world's respect becomes a little less important.

a taste of bitter wine

2008-11-11T17:18:00.000-04:00

laying awake in your bed
in a new city
in a new life
makes you scream wildly inside
waiting for the phone to ring
a knock at the door
anything

waiting while she danced with the other men
laughed with them
and forgot about the nights we spent in del mar
i was but an afterthought of her and many others
and tonight, i will sleep alone

the note she gave me
finally gave way to gravity
and sits on my desk
because, alas, i havent yet had the bravery to lift it
and us, out of this

we all seem happy in old pictures
of course, a smiling face back then is not a window to our soul
but we often forget that in the twilight
watching our old love through photographs
and presents
and with yet one more sip of this old bitter wine
if only tears could bring back love
could bring back happiness

but, it was bound to happen
as, in the end
gravity
takes
us
all