one of my favorite poems by this grand thinker, drinker and wordsmith… have a click at it, and enjoy. Can’t really explain why I dig this peice so much, it just kind of… sings for me.

nirvana

not much chance,
completely cut loose from
purpose,
he was a young man
riding a bus
through North Carolina
on the way to
somewhere
and it began to snow
and the bus stopped
at a little cafe
in the hills
and the passengers
entered.

Ok, so I understand that being a county road plow driver isn’t the most entertaining of jobs. And sure, they probably give ‘em a crappy radio to listen to that probably only gets am stations. But, do they really have to entertain themselves by swooping into driveways, well past the level of the mailbox, in order to clip my trashcan and drag it down the road a few thousand yards?

Impossible Objects

So this guy stuffs improbable items into big jugs and assembles them with tweezers and such.

I say too much free time.

So I was outside ruminating as I stared off, slightly transfixed by the rushing snowflakes as they zipped by the porch light, just out to enjoy a smoke. And it came to me one of the subtle differences between southerners and northerners.

You see I moved back to Michigan from Florida last year about this time, and the whole time I was down there I couldn’t quite figure out what this subtle difference was.

I am sorry that I didn’t make it to the gig. I was looking forward to the whole bar scene, I’d even shaved and showered for the occasion, and you know how often I get around to that business. I even got in the car and started off; I’d gotten off work and gone home to put something in my stomach and work on my head a little bit.

Today marks the anniversary of the death of this great man. For all his troubles and human failings he was still great, and strung together some of the best songs ever assembled. This is a poor tribute… but I felt like saying something. So spare a moment here, this post will let you play ‘instant karma’ and just remember that…

“we all shine on… like the moon and the stars and the sun.”

So i gotta ask. Why on earth don’t we celebrate Ark Day? I mean seriously, the guy personally responsible for saving the entire world’s species, versus a dude that told us to be good, and treat each other with kindness? C’mon, its a no brainer. My vote is for Noah.

Never underestimate the contribution of one man. After all, an amateur and his three sons built the ark, but an enormous team of professionals built the Titanic.

A Salute To Tom Robbins….

{a moment of hushed silence please, and if yer imbibing anything at the present moment, imbibe away as we salute this giant}

You, dear sir, whose fanciful wordage has transported the faithful into the heady realms of playful cosmic time-space, whose female characterizations has led me towards the slavering foolishness of lust, whose need to poke sharpened sticks into the hulking bodies of so many of our over-inflated cultural certainties…

Who Says Words With My Mouth

All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.

ok, this is Draft Three of a school paper, with the suggested audio track for enjoyment of same… give it a whirl.

Artistic Integrity

It’s been snowing for a long time now. I’ve been up for all of it, peering out from between the slits of my window coverings to watch the flakes as they spiral down through washes of street-light. According to the dictates of the digital clocks that sporadically show me their faces, it has been thanksgiving for a couple of hours now.

Pink Floyd song test

the layers.. like onions.. make you cry and act … (ogrish?)… like an ogre

my mind pops as the multitude of tabbed worlds reveal to me,
snippets of their glory..

i start to understand the possibilities..
and laugh