Monday, August 3, 2009

So apparently there's this month called July...

Hey y'all. How y'all doin'? Y'all-y'all. Well. Enough of that nonsense. I guess July passed and I seemed to miss most of it. Well, not exactly. I lived pretty damn well and I used my non-active time to rest and not type. My fingers are stiff and weak. I am giving up. For now......



Ciao Tutti. Ci vidiamo a subito, come non?

Friday, June 26, 2009

As reported earlier.....

....the reports of my untimely demise have been greatly exaggerated. I love plagiarizing myself. Makes me feel like I'm being properly ripped-off. How has everyone out there been? I am doing pretty damn well.... I do currently live in a structure that's better attributes seem to mimic a prison hotbox. I keep telling myself, "Just pretend like you are Michael Jackson in hell's waiting room..." Too soon... or too late. I still think the whole thing is a hoax. He and Elvis are sharing a pitcher of Budweiser at a bowling alley in Midnot, North Dakota right now, as we speak... or read... or skim. I figure most of you skim. Words just get in the way of information anyways...

Speaking of the disgraced King of (soda)Pop (Pepsi Explosion... or was it Coke... who cares?), I made a poor taste status joke about the untimely death of Michael Jordan and a few people out there took me seriously. I know faith in me in general in this fine world has been lower in the last half decade or so, but do people think I am that out of touch? I just wanted to make a joke about the misuse of the MJ initials and the fact that Mr. Jordan has a very poor history of losing a lot of his "hard" earned endorsement money to the unsavory underbelly of Chicago.... some wonderful people. Let's raise our glasses and slug one down to them!! SKOAL!

I am on my way to Summerfest. It is not quite as cool as Sommerfest, but it has it's moments. And I get to walk there.... which totally kicks ass. I will try and post my "Milwaukee Driver's Primer Version 1.0" within the next few days. Stay tuned!!!

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Let's try an oldy....

Hey folks. I've been busy lately. Sorry I have slowed down the postings. I will try and do better. I found myself at a Mind, Body, and Spirit Expo this last weekend and I found I had to use the rest room. The hotel had wonderful facilities, but the only reading material readily available were pamphlets that all contained the words "Ancient", "Modern" and "Spiritual" waaaaaay too much. I had to find something else to occupy my mind... so I decided to write a sonnet. Why the hell not. It's something to do... and here it is. Enjoiez!!!

Sonnet #2

Oh what dark and misty morn

To twist and fight and tame thee

To rip asunder and leave torn

The definition maybe

Enightened, clock and hour time

A stab within the bottle

A merriment of whim and rhyme

At once both wrought and cottled

A furious future frenzied past

A twig upon the pyre

The dark eternal free at last

And all now see the liar

To verse and song and turn of phrase

The immortal spirit forever lazed

That's it. I think most of it rhymes...

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

2/7/09

I sit here


Uncomfortable



I have been


For much longer


I don't let it



Bother me


I'm usually




Uncomfortable



I just learn





To live with it


Monday, February 16, 2009

In a Sentimental Mood.....

Untitled

I miss her texts

Every one

No matter how brief

Copied

Or inconsequential

Every time my phone beeped

Every time my pocket vibrated

Something felt....

Warm inside me

Something felt....

Full

I miss that feeling

Most

So far....

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Another Vintage Forray.....

Hey everyone. Happy President's Day Eve Eve to you all. I hope you celebrate by wearing a stove-pipe hat and freeing some of the slaves from your basement. I know I will! The offering today was written in a small (read: very small) studio apt. in Perugia, Italy. I had had a fairly rough night and was shot down by multiple women and trying to reevaluate my life's outlook. Trying, as always, to figure out what is going wrong. I am always analyzing like that. It's.....ummmm.... I don't know. I guess it's just me. Enjoy this rambling, somewhat heavy handed analysis.


A Poet's Lament


I stare at a Blank Page

No words, No meaning, No Life

And I wonder, how do I differ?

I see nothing, yet am I not also nothing?

I feel that I am shrouded

But in what I do not know

Has my life tumbled out of control?

Have I changed without my knowledge?

Perhaps.... Perhaps

I feel that my inability to communicate with humanity

Has left me with a void

Meaning is there, yet I convey none of it

Life tumbles on around me

But something seems to be missing

Have I become so inept that I've been masked?

Laughter emits from a distant source

I know not why it angers me

Where do my failings end and my life begin?

I have striven to do my best, yet who is to say this?

I feel confused, I feel alone, I feel...... off

Purpose of Life blurred

Blurred by a social concept called success

Who has made it this way?

If man is a noble being, as it has been said

Why must we suffer for simply being born into a cruel world?

My words reflect feelings, yet they are viewed by none

It seems to be no more than an empty auditorium

In which I conduct an orchestra for an audience composed of myself

Time tumbles on, what one chooses to do is inconsequential...

Or is it?


So. I think a lot of that felt fairly accurate on my current state. The success stuff semmed a bit forced. Oh well. Enjoy!

Friday, February 13, 2009

3 more hours....

Morning everyone. I am celebrating my Psuedo-Saturday by sitting around and only ingesting clear liquids. Can I get a "Yay, Fasting Lipid Panel!"? My appointment isn't until 1:30. I am kinda hungry (or hungary as I often mistype). I had an interesting night out last night. No major stories or anything, just a general interesting vibe. I did meet a repo-man. That was kinda cool. There is a Boom in the repo business right now. Fucker still didn't buy me a drink, though : P

Let's cut to the point, to the point no fakin' Cooking MC's like a pound of bacon.

I wrote another poem and I will put it here to rot.


Doyle

I'm a card player

Through and Through

It is my worst quality

I don't know

When to stop

I always play

To somehow win

I don't want to

My Dad told me

at a young age

Everything is a game

Play it to win

Because why not?

You always got to win

There's something wrong with that

I see it now

People will always look

And question your motives

Even if you have none

How would they ever believe you

Why should they?

Call a bluff

It makes the soul

Feel so

ALIVE!

That's done now. I think that is what I wrote. I was sitting in the backseat of a car and it was dark and I couldn't see what I was writing. Suprisingly, my handwriting looks the same as if I could of seen it.