boo.

I am not prepared for October to be over yet - and I won't be in two days either. Yesterday was October 1st and there was a month to go with a concert or two intertwined - once concert down and another tomorrow night, then rain on Halloween - all seven kids (including my own) will be sorely disappointed. In November and December I am told that there is something going on every weekend that I have to be a part of and most of it happens at my house. - it was appropriate to tell me this Halloween weekend as it scared me naked.

Magpie #37

it

was badly damaged

momentarily offered to 

the scrap heaps

I staggered

dropped the moment

(a

pokerfaced interlude)

recollected

I couldn't part with

my last memory 

of you

 - Hoc Scripsi




image from Magpie Tales #37

I spent the day sleeping, in bed.

well, no I didn't but while I was walking around, pumpkin shopping, having lunch, dinner, reading, smoking and all that rock n roll - I was asleep. Now, I am awake at one twenty-seven am.

I hold no grudge.

a comment of mine from another blog...

I once had to put a bullet from my .38 special snub nose revolver through my GPS navigator. It started with getting me lost in Chicago and finally drew it's last straw when it refused to update after I bought a new map set for fifty bucks. This properly served as a warning to all my other electrical devices which began to act properly afterward.

 said other blog can be read here.

but the story is true only it belonged to my wife and became rather unnecessary with her acquisition of an iPhone.


rest in peace Jack, I don't follow in your footsteps but thank you for inspiring me to make my own.



a poetry repost - but whose offended?

I want to see a bull gore a toreador

I want to see a bull gore a toreador.

I only ever pray when an
ambulance goes by
other wise,
I don't believe.

it's madness but
why can't it be cancer?
something nice and clean?

I hope this made you spill your tea.

- Hoc Scripsi 

walking a thin line of relation

I am waiting
calmly, cautiously

I won't take my life in 2012
it won't be taken from me

the GMT constant isn't

the world will not end then
as it has yet to do

I wish to arise unknowing

ignorant of the stars predilictions

 - Hoc Scripsi


I am posting this today though I think it may be crap. I may delete it or drastically alter it. Right now I am tired from not sleeping well and dealing with the continued pain of walking, lying down, sitting and breathing so my ability to flesh out the thought may be incomplete. I take the meds again and realize that it's been nearly four years since I've known a morning or afternoon or evening without being intimate with bone crushing pain. I need a new drug and I am addicted to not being in pain. Shifts of season and lack of proper sleep aggravate the situation.
The path my life has taken since the accident is one I wonder if given the chance would I relive and make a different decision that day - it was such a perfect day - tragedy gave me a gift and exacted a price. There is nothing that I can change about it so I try not to wonder if I would.

Magpie #36

I don't know how I came across this blog - maybe Rabbit? I don't remember but it is basically a writing prompt and today I feel creative so here is my answer to said prompt.



leave the top half
open
that the children
may see
on tiptoe
and
dream
in
color

 - Hoc Scripsi


prompt/Image from Magpie tales Mag #36

I could tell you many things from Aa to Gh but would then require a break

in
general

there are only
two ways
to see things

with the
eye
or
the brain

what could
be more
simple

succinct

Danse Macrabe, Op. 40

I just need a few words to start me off and I'll be running.
I made the mistake of getting out of bed today, I'm not looking for sympathy because fuck that. nearly every step today is as unbearable as the last one and as where I've medicated myself to the highest highs I still am clear thinking and in pain.
Lying down now and resting after a long day of doing nothing with nothing and not in a good Buddhist way or Taoist way either I wonder what I really need. I am convinced it is a few words - the right words and I'll be off running. the fingers long to fly at the typewriter no matter what my little thigh thinks about it.
I long to do the tango in the kitchen.
I long to drink coffee whilst laying down and not spilling thus burning my hairy chest.
why are Breast and Chest spelled differently at the est part? Maybe it''s that since breasts are universally nicer than just a chest they get an extra A -
the red walls bring me focus and I notice a small drip in the paint.
Checking with the TSA I've learned that I don't need any medical documentation for the medications, my ortho Frankenstein shoe or the metal in my leg. Interesting, I thought to myself, and said aloud - well, that's done.

questionnaire

Mr. Chadwick over at the journey laid out the famous questions and asked us all to play so I thought that I wasn't going to blog about anything else - I might as well be a sport, normally I suck at that.

• 1. What is your favorite word? 

 I've recently taken up smoking again while feeling like I would rather have taken up drinking. I would do both but - whoa, one vice at a time there big guy.

• 2. What is your least favorite word?

 Sleeping well has always been an issue, except when medicated by this drug that takes away my ability to link words and phrases together in a meaningful way.

• 3. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?

I've never liked being in a car for long periods unless there was a point to the getting somewhere, anywhere.

• 4. What turns you off?

static no longer fills nighttime after we've left the television on.

• 5. What is your favorite curse word?

dancing on bare carpet with bare feet while naked always makes the neighbors smile.

• 6. What sound or noise do you love?

generally speaking most people would rather not know another human being unless there were some particular advantage to the acquaintance.

• 7. What sound or noise do you hate?

using a typewriter has truly honed my typing skills and my love of fine paper.

• 8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?

Giorgio Armani makes the best black plastic glasses frames while diamondwood makes the best material for a cane.

• 9. What profession would you not like to do?

Albert Einstein once wrote that imagination is more important than knowledge and I disagree. I would call them out equally - imagination without the ability to express it would be a tragedy and knowledge without the ability to see where it is useful abstractly would be an equal tragedy - Like Garfunkel post Simon and Garfunkel.

• 10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?

I walked once for two miles in the pouring rain through one way streets and the sidewalks of Chicago only to find myself in a diner where they served bad housewife coffee.

theme on a variation

now
I keep waiting for someone to come by and offer to amputate my leg for a few hundred bucks. Or isn't this why I keep that in cash on my person at all times?

I assume such a person wouldn't accept a check or a major credit card and I don't think I would want to pay with either of those anyway.

later
this month I am seeing Roger Waters play The Wall in Ohio and Bob Dylan in Chicago. I normally don't get out this much. A few days after Dylan we are boarding a plane and heading to Disney. I may burn from the abundance of exposure, or be inspired by a six foot tall rat and his cronies.

before
a ladybug landed on my thumb and hung out for a few minutes and later ten miles away another ladybug landed on my gas tank and stuck with me for a few miles or it all might have been an opiate induced hallucination (all prescribed and taken as directed).

when in the company of fools
in the throes of poetry I have composed the better of myself onto fine paper using an antiquated office machine.

again, now
Coffee always tastes good at 10:21 pm. I prefer Orange Juice and oral sex in the morning.

Reading., awarding, living, breathing, motorcycling, &%#*ing

It went well yesterday - the book release party - getting to read publicly is not something that I ever look forward to but this was a rare exception where I indeed had a connection. Questions were asked, answered - not nearly enough bullshit for my taste as it was all pretty straight forward. Getting to see an old friend was truly an inspiring breath.

Today, going around to my favorite blogs to do some catching up I find that one of my contemporaries has gifted me with a blog award - I bow low in grateful acceptance -
from the long journey to the middle to the platitudes of willful resemblance:

it simply doesn't get much cooler than this. Thank you.

Shameless promotion for another: If you go to Rabbits blog and click the right buttons you can have him design some truly cool graphics, buttons, or blog pages for you. A small and completely reasonable fee of course. I encourage you to hit him up for this service and see how he can do what you wish you could do as well.

Happy 70th John Lennon -

you did more for us than you could have ever known.

peace now, yes, we want it -

War is over, yes, we want it.

rest eternally in the lap of your laurals

you have earned them over and over.

hide the medicine bottle, less the neighbors find out

I struggle to not hear the voices and focus on the line, the word, the work, the breath, the moment, the standard passing of time and deliverance from this lifers bondage.

I hold the key, juggling it out from one hand to the other and the intermediate pocket but still cannot find the door from where I came in.

oblivion, yes oblivion and we hang. ticking ticking absent from our mortal clock  in which the hours pass by and days and days are numbered lest remembered filtered through our hopes, dreams of what was and what should have been.

but this is me and without the medication to narrow my path focused on the reality that is elsewhere or nowhere or invented by Eli Lilly and company in some board room and experimental lab where test tubes are filled with patients like me.

our subject may be queer in the head, our subject may be recognized to be not there, filling time time time always time in notes and sufferings small and individual expressed out in letters scatters around America or larger, the world.

if men are from Mars and the other from Venus - why is it I have a stamp on my ass that says "Made on Titan, a subsidiary of Saturn, inspector no. 5"?

I have nothing

I have something great to say, something that may be construed as important - I swear that I am trying to get it out and can promise you it is several pages right now and missing a potential several pages more.

I did write a new short poem recently and got partially caught up - one letter down and the truck is properly registered. Reality tells me that I've also gotten caught up on a third unmentioned letter but this was only prompted by the receiver making a preemptive e-mail and being quite kind. An old friend wrote me that I have been meaning to reach out to and was only failing with how - well, that's done now and onto the next thing.

wrestling with this several pages or ignoring it still and try writing something new.