If it makes you TRULY happy...don't stop...

WHAT THE HELL AM I THINKING

2009-10-01T19:45:00.001-07:00

I STARTED WRITING A BOOK...YEAH...WTF IS ROLLING THROUGH MY HEAD?

I deleted a poem...

2009-07-03T23:13:00.001-07:00

Edit after edit I sharpen my blade, dagger raised, ready to plunge into the heart of literary history and leave a scar the shape of my name. I stroll, final draft in hand to show those whose minds will be blown when line after line reaches their ears like the first music, like rain through trees. Rain through trees smears my ink and lines are crossed and my sentences run. I run through the downpour and watch my world crumble as the sodden piece of paper drips black tears to the ground which laps up my poem like the ears it was meant for.

Every Class

2009-03-19T18:27:00.000-07:00

There is one in every class. One in every job, train, elevator or group of people. What is so seductive about a person's voice that their ears have to hear it all the time? What is this love affair ones ears have for their own voice that makes talking more important than saying anything. When do these people realize that silence is pivotal and necessary to learn and grow. It is like they have this fear of losing their voice and they constantly remind themselves that they have one. My ears cry when they are around these people. The beauty that they think they are creating is physically painful to me. I find myself trying to find ways out. To find ways to beat them to the punch so my ears wont be bleeding by the end of class. I have respect for these old hands at teaching that work through it and ignore little quips and questions like mothers to a child's wails or the family that lives by the tracks who can't hear the trains anymore. I just want to stand on my chair and scream, "If you say one more fucking word my head will explode!" But i don't. I sit, take notes, smile and listen to the nails on the chalkboard.

Karate (RD)

2009-02-26T19:15:00.001-08:00

I am learning oratory karate from a tongue-tied dojo. Arguments land like blows unblocked to my diaphragm knocking out wind and words, leaving me in silent pain, gasping for air to retort, but I am swinging with my eyes closed and I fail to make contact. Self-defense turns into self-demise. Lines and stanzas once like a Cobra’s bite dripping with venom and lethal die in my throat when facing a stacked deck favoring the mongoose. Knowing the odds I spit my poison and battle against an unbeatable foe.

Diploma Poema (RD)

2009-02-26T19:14:00.000-08:00

I am a light being turned on in the day. No hand is raised to shield blind eyes. I have a piece of paper worth more than the words written on it. I scream poetry to deaf ears and show my art to the blind. I have jumped through hoops like a circus act and still the crowd thins. We are picked through and discarded like livestock for the perfect herd. Do not stick out, the survival of the fattest wallet is how this world runs and ideas wont pay the bills. I am a light turned off at night. I fade, like a lamp losing oil in its fight against the drowning black.

Stir Crazy

2008-12-02T19:15:00.001-08:00

My fingers ache and sweat at a thought, mountains and routes clutter my mind. I want ropes and draws instead of desks and work. Always flirting with the idea of just calling in dead, dropping off the face of the earth with those chosen few and climbing my way out of the depression of taking orders and serving food. To sell everything but the necessities and set out into the wilderness with those I love to partake in this glorious world God has given us is my desire. My bags are packed… Are you ready to go?

Ah Dreams

2008-11-12T19:35:00.000-08:00

we walk through the night

a lion bounds from the darkness roaring, savage

he bites my hand. begins to eat me

I do not give in, I eat the lion

Time (RD)

2008-10-18T16:52:00.001-07:00

Seconds pass. Minutes fade. Hours drag. Weeks are prolonged. The sand drops one grain at a time and life moves on. Who created this thing called time and why do we keep it? Punctuality, tardiness, early, late. What do these worthless words mean? Can we set much store in these timeless phrases? I despise this spice of life called time. Little hands squeeze the life out of hearts. The sun rises and falls along with nations. Tides move in and out like the counting of final breaths. Slow and steady like the tortise and the hair raising idea that though seconds be tiny they are powerful, unwaivering, unstoppable. Aging can be fought with creams and scalpels but age is an enemy with no weaknesses and always prevails.

Lunar?

2008-10-18T10:09:00.001-07:00

This man in the moon will move oceans, if only you ask. Tides turn. Relationships come and go. I am lost in a sea of darkness. You keep me afloat. Love by any other name would be hate and hate by any other name is lost love. You are leaving me. Our love is waning, once so bright begins to fade. I cover my face and drift into the shadow of my grief, half the man I was. Something beautiful became so hideous eyes could not view it for becoming blind. I am a new man, a new moon, a clean slate ready to become enlightened by your wisdom and presence. Look at me! I yell towards the oblivion. Thorough blind eyes you see. My mourning stops as your morning begins. I forget the past starting the cycle again.

OK.....Poison...

2008-10-18T09:29:00.001-07:00

Once in your head I stroll around like the proud owner of a new house unafraid to open any door. No drug will work I am untouchable, impervious. You know nothing about this disease. A lover’s poison is incurable and terminal. Unmoved by death I search of the immune.

Poison?

2008-10-18T09:24:00.001-07:00

I destroy from the inside out spreading through veins in search of a heart which can slowly be shred to pieces. Once in your head I stroll around like the proud owner of a new house unafraid to open any door. No drug will work I am untouchable, impervious. You know nothing about this disease. A lover’s poison is incurable and terminal, unmoved by their death I have moved on in search of the one that is immune.

Poison

2008-10-11T10:46:00.000-07:00

I creep through your veins and destroy you from the inside out. I reach the heart and tear it to pieces. I am in your head and control your thoughts. No drugs work, I adapt. I am a poison to the world. I damage everything I come in contact with and I am unaffected by the result for I have already moved on to my next victim. I am hoping they find a cure, it is not much of an existence ruining others lives.

Call me lunar

2008-10-07T10:54:00.000-07:00

Call me lunar. The only reason I glow is your light. This man in the moon will move the oceans, if only you ask. Tides turn and relationships come and go, rise and fall. Stars embrace me yet run from me. I am neither light nor dark but a lightened sense of dark and a darkened sense of light. I am surrounded by an abyss of darkness, in which only you keep me afloat. When we share the sky others view us together and we change lives twisting through the heavens like our DNA is one. Love by any other name would be hate and hate by any other name is lost love. You are leaving me. Our love is waning, once so bright begins to fade. I cover my face and drift into the shadow of my grief, half the man I was. How did something so beautiful become so hideous eyes cannot view it for becoming blind. I am a new moon, a new man, a clean slate ready to become enlightened by your wisdom and presence. LOOK AT ME!!! I yell towards the oblivion. Thorough blind eyes you see. Deaf ears hear. Dumb tongues speak. My mourning stops as your morning begins. I forget the past and the cycle starts again.

I Should Be...

2008-10-02T00:25:00.000-07:00

I should be at a party but my pen dances across this page. Eyes follow and drink in my thoughts. I sweat my life through this ink. Sometimes I doubt I make the right moves. My teeth grind with the anticipation of my next piece. I wish I could turn on a light bulb.

I should be at a bar but I am busy picking up lines from the grab bag that is my mind. I use them to drive a point home. Friends hit on my door but I am too busy swatting away this Spanish fly to hear their complaints.

I should be at an orgy but I can only listen to the sentences thrusted into my head over and over again until a good one comes to me. The tip of my pen seduces this page and there is little I can do to break its spell.

I should be anywhere but here but my writing always travels from left to right, my words leaving you to hang while I run out of time.

I Should Be... (RD)

2008-10-01T22:30:00.000-07:00

I should be at a party, but my pen is dancing across this page and the eyes that follow it are drinking in my thoughts.

I should be at a bar, but I am busy picking up lines from the many to choose from in my mind and I am using them to drive a point home.

I should be at a rave, but I am grinding my teeth with anticipation of my next piece and wishing a lightbulb would be turned on.

I should be at an orgy, but I keep scratching sentences out and will keep doing so until a good idea comes to me.

I should be at a club, but my friends are hitting on my door and begging me to get a life.

I should be having sex, but the tip of my pen is seducing this page and there is little I can do to break its spell.

I should be at a dance, but I am sweating my life out through this ink and sometimes I doubt that I am making the right move.

I should be anywhere but here, but my words always travel from left to right and tend to leave a positive impact wherever they go.

The "List" (so far)

2008-09-22T00:39:00.000-07:00

Happy things:

1. J-Bone, Neeferton, Tyler "Fattie McFatterson" Scheer.........Great Friends

2. Writing (even though many believe it to be depressing it makes ME happy)

3. Reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, out loud and laughing so hard i cry

4. Climbing

5. The smell of just cut grass, rain, used book stores, libraries, and fresh baked bread

6. Reading Peter Pan and knowing that I am crazy enough to be a "Lost Boy" along with a few other people i know, including a good majority of #1 (sorry J-bone)

7. Crying (it is a reminder that we are all human...something I should never forget)

8. Family (#1 is also part of this)

9. Stabilo Markers and those who anonymously send them to those longing for a set

10. The Lord...through him all things are possible....

I am the Tinman

2008-09-21T00:34:00.000-07:00

I step off of the path and stand still for a second, a minute, an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year, maybe it is a lifetime. The sun rises and the sun sets. The moon dances through the sky hiding its face at times silently watching my life through his fingers, like a child watching a scary movie. The forest grows around me, using me as support for its vines, rusting me, destroying me, using me, hurting me, crushing me, oh my god I cant handle this weight on my shoulders, I am being smothered, please make it stop, I cant do this alone. Why did I stop in the first place? I am becoming unrecognizable, and those who I am so close to will soon walk by and not take a second look in my direction. All they will see is my outer shell which blends well with the world around me, when they look at me all they will see is the worlds imprint on me when it should be the other way around. Perhaps I should just embrace this end. Should I just let this weight crush me? I could remain at this impasse, living this stationary existence just watching the world pass by, walking down their yellow brick road and passing me without the slightest nod or grin of recognition. They say I have no heart but something inside of me is breaking. Can’t you see it breaking? You skip and dance and sing about lions and tigers and bears. Oh my lack of heart aches with sorrow to watch you follow the path, never looking up from your mission, never seeing my tears falling down my rusted face solidifying who I am. Seasons become a blur. I have been here for so long I don't know if I can shake the vines off of my stiff frame and remove the rust from the cracks and crevices where it has lived for so long. Can I go back to the person I was before straying from the path? Who is that person? I move forward for a lifetime, a year, a month, a week, a day, an hour, a minute, maybe it is only a second......you have the oilcan and all I can do is whisper as you stroll by......................help me........

Lost in "My Thoughts"

2008-09-15T22:23:00.000-07:00

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Do You Want To See The World Through My Eyes?

2008-09-03T13:14:00.000-07:00

What about a world where we are nature? At birth we are chosen to become a part of the world. The wise and strong would be the ground because they have the stability and structure to support the world on their shoulders. The loving and giving would be the plants and trees, deeply connected with the foundation of the world, intimately and emotionally close with the ground, learning and growing strong with the knowledge and nourishment from the very thing that they have roots in. The more the trees learn from the ground, the more they can share it with those around them by giving gifts of shade, food and shelter, always willing to share their knowledge of the world with those around them. The free-spirited could be the wind, dancing around the world carefree and alive! Trees shake their heads as the winds play by, never stopping for shade or rest and only hearing parts of lectures that, if heard in whole, would surely destroy any chance of ever having fun again. So the trees yell short bits of knowledge to the winds and sometimes write it on a couple leaves for the them to take with them to reread later. The winds usually lose it within the first few minutes but you cannot blame the trees for trying and although the trees shake their heads they secretly admit that they wish that they were as innocent in the ways of the world. The compassionate yet world weary could would be raindrops, always crying and feeling the pain of others but never completely trusting anyone but themselves. The raindrops are very innocent in their ways of loving and understanding, never break theirs hearts for alone they are meek and timid but when together they are strong and unruly. Usually when their hearts are broken the winds are there, because the innocent can always feel a broken heart, even if it is not theirs. When the winds and rains become depressed they start a downward spiral into their grief and destroy anything in their path. You can hear them crying and howling with sorrow throughout their entire hurricane of emotions. Oceans, rivers and lakes are just rain drops that have matured and are tired of crying and mourning and wish to show their trust of the world by sharing their knowledge with the ground, seeping its wisdom into places that no other thing could reach, cracks and crevices so small that only the thoughts of raindrops can reach. In turn the ground teaches the knowledge and wisdom that the water had shared with the trees and plants. The trees and plants shout the new information to the winds as they skip by. They write so many notes that they are left naked and cold but the warmth of the good deed will keep them alive through the cold they know is coming. As the winds cartwheel through the meetings of the raindrops they pass along this new understanding of life and the world. Their stories are broken and confusing at first but one by one they comprehend the new realization that they have no idea about this thing called life and they freeze their hearts and try to kill the very world they cry. The winds become fierce and unlike their usually playful selves and the raindrops, frozen solid from their hearts, try to make everything else feel as cold as they do on the inside. They refuse to believe until they have processed every piece of data and see the proof. Only then will they thaw their hearts and become the oceans, rivers and lakes of mature raindrops who then then apologize to the ground and pass along gifts of information which they found while trying to dispute the facts of life. The ground passes the gifts along to the trees who then make as many leaves as they can to tell the winds, because this much information is going to take months to pass on. After a couple months of confusion, and raindrops not knowing whether or not to be cold, the winds get the complete story and they dance a jig with the raindrops and brings life back to the world.

Rain

2008-09-01T20:34:00.000-07:00

I am past the raining stage and i am past the pouring stage. I am now to the someone punches you in the face and steals your umbrella stage. So, when it rains it pours, and when it pours someone punches you in the face and steals your umbrella. Why does my life feel like this? Why is it that when i say things can't get worse someone steals my umbrella? Everyone hates me for no good reason. Now, I use the term everyone loosely because if you are reading this either you like me or you are scoping everything in my life out in order to find a clear shot with a sniper rifle. (I work at noon at Outback...the trees would give great cover) I just feel like I didn't get the memo that I am an asshole, an exact term that i have heard to describe myself in more than one conversation. I don't know. Maybe I did get the memo and I just lost it or forgot to RSVP or something like that. But that is ok, because when it rains it pours and when it pours someone steals your umbrella, but the amazing thing about not having an umbrella is that nobody can see your tears for the rain. Crying in the rain gives me the feeling that the world can feel my pain and cry with me. It can thunder and lightning and I can scream and yell but after the show is over and all is said and done it is just water falling from the skies making love with the water falling from my eyes. It is a beautiful thing....

Antonyms of Synonyms

2008-08-28T22:36:00.000-07:00

No one thinks i am as strong as i know i am. Why do people always second guess me and tell me all of the things i have to live for and everything i am good at (even when i am not). Why is there always someone looking over my shoulder pointing out all of the things i am doing, both right and wrong. Who are THEY to tell me who I am. Who am I to listen!? What...does make me...me? I stand in a crowd and feel alone. I stand alone and feel claustrophobic. I am hot when you are cold and cold when you are hot. I am the winter to your summer and the fall to your spring. I cry when you laugh and i am the frown to your smile. Why do i feel like i am the Antonym of your life?

Just Shut the Whole Thing Down

2008-08-28T22:23:00.000-07:00

Maybe i should just leave. Leave my phone and just take off. I think Sage and i could get by on little to nothing a week. Where would we go though? How far do i have to go to out run who i am? Is that even possible? Maybe there is no running involved and you just force yourself to forget yourself. Maybe i should just go crazy, but how does one go about becoming crazy? Are their certain steps you take? And if so, who wrote them down because everyone who knows the correct steps are actually crazy themselves. I would love to push the envelope between sanity and insanity. I wonder how close to the line i could get. Please don't use me in an attempt to make yourself feel better... Am i really him? Am i that guy? Is that me? I want to yell. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want to break something. I want to cry. I want to die. I want friends. I don't really. I will drink these problems away. I wont touch the stuff. Who am I?! What...am i? My boots are so heavy. Please ignore the man behind the curtain. I...am the man behind the curtain controlling the Wizard of Oz whose power is controlling me. So wait, who was controlling who again? Is there control? Just shut the whole thing down...

Libraries should just be Libraries

2008-08-26T15:45:00.000-07:00

So, today I got paid and decided to go to the used book store in town and buy a couple books on the ever growing "To Read List" and spent $22 bucks at Phoenix Books in Cheyenne. (if you are ever in town look them up) As I was paying for my books the owner and I started talking about the new library in town and all the awards it has won, the size...etc. He told me that only 40% of the building is open to the public. The rest is meeting rooms, storage, private employee bathrooms, and such. Of the 40% that IS open to the public a good chunk of that hold DVDs and CDs. So, if my math is correct, only 25% of Laramie County's Library is holding books that are open to the public. And of that 25% there are a lot of shelves that are empty. Here is a personal example. Last week I went to the library looking for two books: Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie and A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers. I found Peter Pan quickly but I looked and looked and could not find the other. The computer said that the library had a copy and it was in. Finally I had to ask someone where to find it and it turns up it was in the back! So I am in the used book store at the library today and what do I find? A Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers (they decided that two copies of the same book took up too much room on their depressingly empty shelves) and five other books my total coming to $8. It is depressing how Libraries have turned into video rental stores and music stores in the hopes that while children are looking for their next movie they will learn to read and grow and appreciation for literature through osmosis. WEB OF LIES!!! This is my rant for the day... Phew... Glad i got that off of my chest...I wonder if we have popsicles.........

Holy Addiction Batman

2008-08-24T21:05:00.000-07:00

I don't know what was so interesting about what i saw at a gas station but i wanted to share it. So, i was sitting in a car waiting for my friend to get out of a gas station when a man runs out of the store with a brand new package of buglers (the roll your own cigarettes not the fun shaped snacks) and he could not get the wrapper off fast enough. It was like a child with a brand new toy...im not going to lie when i say that it hurt me to watch him rip off the wrapping and quickly roll a misshapen cigarette and quickly light it. Not two minutes later i saw the whole scene repeated by two college girls. By watching whole thing take place it set in my mind that i will never become addicted to or even put myself in the position to be addicted to something.

You Are Here ---> ?

2008-08-24T20:55:00.000-07:00

And people wonder why I am depressed and have considered suicide...All I am surrounded by are people who care more about their precious wood floor being scratched than the feelings of others. Is depression genetic? I say....yes. The difference for me is that I write about it and then just let it and leave my feelings on the page and try not to dwell on it. Others let it consume them...Let it control them...I will never NEVER go back to that! Yes...I have considered suicide but i have the guts to live when others have given into the temptation. My future is planned out by a bigger hand than mine. Bigger things than me are in my future. Bigger things that would be nothing without one key ingredient...ME...

The Library

2008-08-20T21:32:00.000-07:00

Libraries intrigue me. When you really think about it, you can be as smart as you want to be. Fiction, non-fiction, newspapers, magazines, and pretty much anything else you want to read. Every single book on every single shelf has a little bit of the authors soul in it, they poured years into them, some are even an authors life's work and only book. It is no wonder that reading is such an emotional pastime. How can you read something and not develop an emotional connection to those in the story and the author? I saw little kids racing around the shelves today so excited to be there. I want to be that child again. You know the one I am talking about, the one who is told by their parents to choose a book to take home and by the time the parents are ready to leave the child returns with ten books and a smile from ear to ear. I want to be the child who lives in their own imagination and does not need Hollywood to picture the characters in a story. I am going to try not to watch TV for a month and try to regain this innocence towards literature, this love of written adventure and try to reach depths of imagination that has remained untouched for years or even untapped.

Back to the "REAL" World

2008-08-20T12:38:00.000-07:00

So here i am...sitting in the library and reflecting on this last week of climbing and how it has changed me as a person. I can't even begin to explain what has happened to me on the inside and how i have began making changes to become the person that God wants me to be. The only words that come to mind are relief and absolute terror. How can i change who i am on the outside to represent what i am on the inside?! Well, a good friend of mine put it this way (after slapping me in the face) , "you are not going to wake up tomorrow and instantly be that person...it takes work." truer words have never been spoken. Another development that has come from this last week is that i have sworn off TV. I just do not have time to watch the television when i have a list of books that is currently at 34 and constantly growing. I'm going to completely jump subjects, which does not really matter since this will most likely never be read by anyone but me. I am depressed. I work on the kill floor of a meat processing plant and when a person is surrounded by that much death and that much negative energy it wears on them. The more i work, the more depressed i get. I need to get out. I feel so empty on the inside. BUT!!! I'm working on that too. I just started reading Heart of Darkness which I have instantly liked because Conrad is so descriptive you get lost in your own mind. I have also been reading a short story now and then from Welcome to The Monkey House and find myself wanting to write more and more, and the more i write, the more i read. I am finally in a never ending cycle that i love... On that note...i need to find a job that i enjoy...