Posts Tagged ‘If you need me I’ll be out by the trees freaking out about the lack of snow’

Seesaw

Monday, March 18th, 2013

Mind over matter or lobo

splatter of a readily reached

region, My epicenter.Com

 

Pewter chipped, reprogrammed, reset.

 Regret and now a brain fart, a

tart vegetable. Out of sync

 

With my sweet red beat. They speak of

 chemical imbalances, a

tragic faint foreshadowed until

 

I realize all is fair in this

dense heir. They will not confiscate

 this southern mental state. Hexed by

 

Celexa? or accept fair fate

Visual trifecta. Left right,

left, right, inner sight, stumble, re-

 

 Gain, refrain, play with the toys not

Your organs. Pituitary

playground, cerebellum jungle

 

Gym, true monkey bars, mental hide

 and seek. Close your eyes and count down

from ten. Seek until you hit The

 

Fence. Have a seat on a bench. Be

happy with the inch or take The

 green mile. Strapped in your own elect

 

Tric chair on top of your frame. Framed,

buckled in dimensions, dead dig-

its. Remembering math class and strain.

 vmc03/18/13

Response to Probably not substantive enough to be post-worthy, but…

Friday, March 8th, 2013

America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I’m sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.-Who else but Ginsberg?(sickedwickedness)

I aim at this section of, America , because of Cobain and Plath’s “attractiveness.” Cobain’s music was attractive. Plath’s poetry was attractive. But “America” wants us to believe that their suicide was attractive because “America” wants us to think that “its machinery is too much for us.” The affect that drugs have on an artist and the artist’s mind state is very real.  The affect that fans have on the artist are very real because of all the pressure the artist is put under because of their fame and are almost looked at as a “saint” when in reality they are far from it because they are destroying the very beautiful bodies backstage that their fans fantasize.  Can we blame “America”? or Do we blame the artist?

 I totally respect them as mainstream idyllic figures because their form(their physical attractiveness) and their content (their poetry and music) should be respected we cannot argue with how handsome Cobain was or how pretty Plath was.  My opinion is that their ending was ugly.  Too many fans look to these people, I mean, idyllic symbols as more than human and become confused.  I am not confused about it because I’m sure these artists did not feel that they were as attractive as we thought they were.  Plath didn’t have enough education and Cobain took too many drugs to cope and what a slippery slope and you lose sight of Hope when your Dream has been accomplished and you can’t make it to the finish, is it too late too replenish the soul you chose to diminish?  No, it’s not too late. Life is a big Responsibility and the more you are given the more you are responsible for. What do I know? but “Rumor has it!!” ha ha ha

 However, you can’t argue with the beauty of an early death either because where I was raised, here in America, that’s what I was always reminded. And a few words from a brother of mine Kanye  Omari West in America (please don’t get caught up on the form and only try to see the content):

 “The block is at war, post dramatic stress, ran up outta pillz, rob dat CVS, niggas gettin bust over in Gods we trust, We believe in God butdo God believe in us?,if we believe enough will we ever get to know him, that lean got us dosin’ ,if we get there we the chosen, i been poppin shit for too long, but still reppin where I came from”-Kanye West

 “Dr. Martin Louis The King Jr. and imma never let the dream turn to Krueger’s”-Kanye West

I could write shorter sermons but when I get started I’m too lazy to stop.-Lincoln

 

 

Evening Putterings

Thursday, January 17th, 2013

I was perusing through some Emily Dickinson and came across this poem, which used to be my favorite back in high school. I still have a soft spot for it and thought it would make  a good nostalgic read for the evening.

It’s all I have to bring today –
This, and my heart beside –
This, and my heart, and all the fields –
And all the meadows wide –
Be sure you count – should I forget
Some one the sum could tell –
This, and my heart, and all the bees
Which in the Clover dwell.