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Month: March 2009

  • For Someone Who Sees Partly Sunny Skies

    I dreamt of you today   though I didn’t see your face   I knew it was you   the number was seven and it was bright yellow

  • We Had an Idiot as President: God’s Wicked Sense of Humor Exposed

    So I bought this book, Lone Survivor by Marcus Luttrell (and quasi-ghost writer Patrick Robinson), on a whim in an airport bookstore. It’s clearly a tale of a major military clusterfuck in which everyone dies (except that one) so I thought, oh hell yeah. This is for me. I was meant to have this book.…

  • Response to a Right-Wing Rant

    Forgive me for being an asshole but honestly this country was built on bullshit.   Living and dying for an idea Freedom Living and dying for a concept Terrorism Living and dying for nothing…   Patriotism. Belief in a war and your country is proof that you have been conditioned, your mind reprogrammed, and your…

  • Happy Home

    I’ve been told Death Valley exists And I live in it Even if Even though I stayed willingly I came unknowingly   I’ve been told Lots of things I already know Home is Where the heart is Where death resides in molecules and chaos all around   A barely audible whisper. Come.   Death Valley…

  • Up and Down

    Yesterday, I took lunch and went for a light jog/walk around the old neighborhood I used to live by. It was a beautiful spring day. Like the ones I remember when I lived there. It was strange to be back in the same place and remember the version of me that when up the hill…

  • On Random Poems

    On Tragedy …a haiku by poeticgrin, 8/18/04   Weed in a taco Broken swings, asses, and dreams Satan’s spawn inside     Rotting …not sure if poeticgrin or I wrote this one. It sort of sounds like me, but it’s on Bryan’s b-day, 7/30/96   Sinking deeper and deeper   The sand fills my mouth…

  • Haunted

    Her words haunt me in the same way that Holocaust stories do.   She said No I don’t want to open my eyes it splatters everywhere death death death.   Her words remind me one doesn’t have to see the smoke to smell the ashes.

  • Shallow Skin

    It doesn’t have to hurt for me to like the feel of shallow skin torn from deeper depths.   Not all cuticles run so deep but removal makes the edges of my being warm.   I might go to professionals who tinker and snip but I don’t wish for nails that are better kept.  …

  • My Native Name Could Be “Whinging Weird Jaw”

    This rambling post and accompanying whinge is 762 words so I understand if you do not want to go through it all. I’ve underlined the important parts.   To answer Patrice’s question. I do not laugh on laughing gas. If left to my own devices, I get nice and high. My endodontist (sounds fancy but…

  • Strict Preferences

    if we’re talking strictly preferences at the moment I think I’d like someone who I was only marginally into to someone who I was all-consumingly into oranges to apples discontent to happiness nothing to something as something is exhausting odds to evens right to wrong left to right sleep to consciousness flip-flops to school marm…