dream girl
'when the sun comes up in the morning
(I sleep on my belly so it's always from my left)
I awaken to
that lovely golden light
and
I'm usually alone
and I sometimes (but not always) wonder why the most
beautiful woman in the world is not sleeping there next to
me?
I deserve her, I think, I deserve
her.
then I get up
go to the bathroom
splash water on my face
look into the
mirror
shudder a bit
in
disbelief
then
go sit down on
the ivory
stool
let it all
go
except for the reality
which
no amount
of
efficient
modern
plumbing
can
whirl
away.'
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Distraction
"You have to lower your standards," she said. "It's amazing how easy it is once you stop caring." It was meant as dating advice, though I didn't ask for any. I wasn't really sure where the statement came from.
"I'll try," I responded. Not sure how to tell her that for the last eight months I'd been in a concussive fog of relative apathy.
The last woman that I'd felt the earth tip for had left me on my ass, with a stiff right hand to the chin - unseen though deserved. It was the type of punch that lingers, that takes you down a peg; the punch that you feel every time you chew. For months after I was reeling, unstable. I would get drunk and invite people to punch me in the face, unwilling to start a fight but eager for wanton, mind-erasing violence. I wrote feverishly in notebooks, wrote songs, listened to broken-hearted crooners. I secretly wallowed in my broken romanticism. But like all passions, it subsided to embers, smoldering in a shell of nonchalance.
I tossed myself into bachelorhood, slept with more women than I had in my entire life. Distractions and possibilities - even something that hinted of potential. Ideas not yet put to paper. But still, nine months gone and it still came back to her, a strange addiction. And so I thought of far-away mountain streams, city streets flickering in foreign dialects, island beaches, strange accents. My thoughts lingering after her like dim shadows.
"I'm serious. Life is too short to worry all the time about love, lost or future. It'll happen." She drank from her wineglass. "Or it won't."
"It will."
"You think so?" She looked at me like a child looked at mall Santas, wanting to believe.
"It happens all the time," I said and kissed her. "Every day."
"I'll try," I responded. Not sure how to tell her that for the last eight months I'd been in a concussive fog of relative apathy.
The last woman that I'd felt the earth tip for had left me on my ass, with a stiff right hand to the chin - unseen though deserved. It was the type of punch that lingers, that takes you down a peg; the punch that you feel every time you chew. For months after I was reeling, unstable. I would get drunk and invite people to punch me in the face, unwilling to start a fight but eager for wanton, mind-erasing violence. I wrote feverishly in notebooks, wrote songs, listened to broken-hearted crooners. I secretly wallowed in my broken romanticism. But like all passions, it subsided to embers, smoldering in a shell of nonchalance.
I tossed myself into bachelorhood, slept with more women than I had in my entire life. Distractions and possibilities - even something that hinted of potential. Ideas not yet put to paper. But still, nine months gone and it still came back to her, a strange addiction. And so I thought of far-away mountain streams, city streets flickering in foreign dialects, island beaches, strange accents. My thoughts lingering after her like dim shadows.
"I'm serious. Life is too short to worry all the time about love, lost or future. It'll happen." She drank from her wineglass. "Or it won't."
"It will."
"You think so?" She looked at me like a child looked at mall Santas, wanting to believe.
"It happens all the time," I said and kissed her. "Every day."
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Life in a paragraph.
"I believe that there is one story in the world, and only one, that has frightened and inspired us, so that we live in a Pearl White serial of continuing through and wonder. Humans are caught - in their lives, in their thoughts, in their hungers and ambitions, in their avarice and cruelty, and in their kindness and generosity too - in a net of good and evil. I think that is the only story we have and that it occurs on all levels of feelings and intelligence. Virtue and vice were warp and woof of our first consciousness, and they will be the fabric of our last, and this despite any changes we may impose on field and river and mountain, on economy and manners. There is no other story. A man, after he has brushed off the dust and chips of his life, will have left only the hard, clean questions: Was it good or was it evil? Have I done well - or ill?"
John Steinbeck
"East of Eden"
Perhaps this is simplifying things too much, a world of lives and thoughts boiled down to a pair. Or perhaps it's true, when a life is truly looked at, the magnified parts finally scrutinized with a keen eye, things truly do boil down to those two. Good or Evil.
Personally I think Steinbeck has brought out the dramatic side in me. He tends to do that. For the next few days my mind will be filled with the philosophical implications of every moment, every thought, breath and action. Great books do that to me.
This is when I recede inward, after the last page is turned, the last sentence read. A world of words, Steinbeck's canvas splashed with my paint. The outside world fogs over as my eyes go in, reliving and contemplating what I just read. So many people I've just met, new souls. They exist as real as any other soul I've known, perhaps more so. Cal - I don't know if I've ever truly liked a character more, a bird of a similar feather.
In parting...
"Thou mayest rule over sin,' Lee. That's it. I do not believe all men are destroyed. I can name you a dozen who were not, and they are the ones the world lives by. It is true of the spirit as it is true of battles - only the winners are remembered. Surely most men are destroyed, but there are other who like pillars of fire guide frightened men through the darkness. "Thou mayest, Thous mayest! What glory. It is true that we are weak and sick and quarrelsome, but if that is all we ever were, we would, millenniums ago, have disappeared from the face of the earth. A few remnants of fossilized jawbone, some broken teeth in strata of limestone, would be the only mark man would have left of his existence in the world. But the choice, Lee, the choice of winning! I had never understood it or accepted it before."
Timshel.
John Steinbeck
"East of Eden"
Perhaps this is simplifying things too much, a world of lives and thoughts boiled down to a pair. Or perhaps it's true, when a life is truly looked at, the magnified parts finally scrutinized with a keen eye, things truly do boil down to those two. Good or Evil.
Personally I think Steinbeck has brought out the dramatic side in me. He tends to do that. For the next few days my mind will be filled with the philosophical implications of every moment, every thought, breath and action. Great books do that to me.
This is when I recede inward, after the last page is turned, the last sentence read. A world of words, Steinbeck's canvas splashed with my paint. The outside world fogs over as my eyes go in, reliving and contemplating what I just read. So many people I've just met, new souls. They exist as real as any other soul I've known, perhaps more so. Cal - I don't know if I've ever truly liked a character more, a bird of a similar feather.
In parting...
"Thou mayest rule over sin,' Lee. That's it. I do not believe all men are destroyed. I can name you a dozen who were not, and they are the ones the world lives by. It is true of the spirit as it is true of battles - only the winners are remembered. Surely most men are destroyed, but there are other who like pillars of fire guide frightened men through the darkness. "Thou mayest, Thous mayest! What glory. It is true that we are weak and sick and quarrelsome, but if that is all we ever were, we would, millenniums ago, have disappeared from the face of the earth. A few remnants of fossilized jawbone, some broken teeth in strata of limestone, would be the only mark man would have left of his existence in the world. But the choice, Lee, the choice of winning! I had never understood it or accepted it before."
Timshel.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Girl Dancing
She danced across the floor
the way a cloud of dust twists itself into a cyclone,
briefly swirling before melting away.
Her hips moved rhythmically,
throbbing.
Her thin hands, like thawing icicles,
massaged the air while she sang softly.
There was no music, only what she heard in her head.
Watching her,
I listened.
the way a cloud of dust twists itself into a cyclone,
briefly swirling before melting away.
Her hips moved rhythmically,
throbbing.
Her thin hands, like thawing icicles,
massaged the air while she sang softly.
There was no music, only what she heard in her head.
Watching her,
I listened.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Health Care: Part I
For the next few weeks I'll be posting on the Health Care Bill that recently passed both Houses and landed on the President's desk. I'm trying to understand exactly what happened, therefore I've decided (under some urging) to do some research and interpret the information back into words. This will be disorganized, chaotic, meandering and full of opinion and my flaws. I make no apologies and I have no real opinion on the matter - I'm far too ignorant. So if at a certain point in these following posts I seem leaning to one corner, I apologize. Hang tight and I'm quite sure in the next post I'll be viewing things from a different perspective.
Part I
Despite the health care debate monopolizing much of the airwaves for the past eight months and every media outlet having numerous opinions on its effects, I’m still confused as hell. I feel like I just woke up in an alley with blood on my jeans, no shoes and wearing someone stranger’s toupee – what the hell just happened and how is this going to change my life?
I’m not smart; I’m not that well-informed; I’m not a doctor and I can barely count to ten let alone calculate budgetary estimations, but when has an inherent deficiency ever stopped me from playing the expert before? So in the next few posts I’m going to try and make sense of the health care reform, sifting through the partisanship surrounding it and what exactly it means for us.
First off I think it’d be necessary to look at the health care system prior to this bill, focusing in particular on the twin monstrosities of Medicaid and Medicare, as well as the state of the uninsured in America. This is essential to understand the Bill just signed into law by Obama and the political turmoil surrounding it. It will also do a lot to deflate the sentiment that the Federal Government should keep their hands out of the public health sector – a sentiment in my opinion that is ridiculous considering our history (you’ll see what I mean).
Brief History of the Federal Government’s sticky hand in Health Care:
Think of the most badass President – be quick. Don’t wait. Just blurt it out! If you said Jimmy Carter, you’re a dumb ass; if you said Ronald Reagan, you’ve been drinking the Kool-Aid; if you said Truman or Ike, I’ll let it slide but you’re still wrong. The correct answer and most badass Prez by far is Teddy Roosevelt. In a full-on death match, I’d take TR against a tiger.
And it’s surprising to note that this mustachioed man-bear of a President campaigned under the Bull Moose Party for health care way back in 1912. That’s right, in between hunting big game and getting shot TR was a proponent of social welfare. TR lost his presidential crusade in ’12 to the sniveling douche bag Woodrow Wilson, but the notion of universal health care was far from lost.
Labor Unions and Consolidated groups of the elderly have consistently pushed the Federal and State governments to guarantee health care for their members, trying a variety of shared-cost initiatives throughout the years. Much of these initiatives fell flat, primarily due to lack of a concerted effort by reformers and the opposition by special interests groups (sounds familiar). Despite the laudatory efforts of reformers, the fact that beer became outlawed during this era makes the entire Progressive Movement the work of a bunch of teetotaler in my opinion. The fact that health care reformists were not connected with abolitionists means nothing to me – I’ve never been restricted by facts or common sense.
On a side note, it was right around this time that the opponents of government run health care came up with the notion of “socialized medicine”; it’s important to remember that this was during an era of intense backlash against anything seen as socialist or the even more vile communist (Look up Palmer Raids in your free time). Anything connected with “Socialism” was anathema to most Americans.
Next Post:
The Great Depression to Medicaid
Part I
Despite the health care debate monopolizing much of the airwaves for the past eight months and every media outlet having numerous opinions on its effects, I’m still confused as hell. I feel like I just woke up in an alley with blood on my jeans, no shoes and wearing someone stranger’s toupee – what the hell just happened and how is this going to change my life?
I’m not smart; I’m not that well-informed; I’m not a doctor and I can barely count to ten let alone calculate budgetary estimations, but when has an inherent deficiency ever stopped me from playing the expert before? So in the next few posts I’m going to try and make sense of the health care reform, sifting through the partisanship surrounding it and what exactly it means for us.
First off I think it’d be necessary to look at the health care system prior to this bill, focusing in particular on the twin monstrosities of Medicaid and Medicare, as well as the state of the uninsured in America. This is essential to understand the Bill just signed into law by Obama and the political turmoil surrounding it. It will also do a lot to deflate the sentiment that the Federal Government should keep their hands out of the public health sector – a sentiment in my opinion that is ridiculous considering our history (you’ll see what I mean).
Brief History of the Federal Government’s sticky hand in Health Care:
Think of the most badass President – be quick. Don’t wait. Just blurt it out! If you said Jimmy Carter, you’re a dumb ass; if you said Ronald Reagan, you’ve been drinking the Kool-Aid; if you said Truman or Ike, I’ll let it slide but you’re still wrong. The correct answer and most badass Prez by far is Teddy Roosevelt. In a full-on death match, I’d take TR against a tiger.
And it’s surprising to note that this mustachioed man-bear of a President campaigned under the Bull Moose Party for health care way back in 1912. That’s right, in between hunting big game and getting shot TR was a proponent of social welfare. TR lost his presidential crusade in ’12 to the sniveling douche bag Woodrow Wilson, but the notion of universal health care was far from lost.
Labor Unions and Consolidated groups of the elderly have consistently pushed the Federal and State governments to guarantee health care for their members, trying a variety of shared-cost initiatives throughout the years. Much of these initiatives fell flat, primarily due to lack of a concerted effort by reformers and the opposition by special interests groups (sounds familiar). Despite the laudatory efforts of reformers, the fact that beer became outlawed during this era makes the entire Progressive Movement the work of a bunch of teetotaler in my opinion. The fact that health care reformists were not connected with abolitionists means nothing to me – I’ve never been restricted by facts or common sense.
On a side note, it was right around this time that the opponents of government run health care came up with the notion of “socialized medicine”; it’s important to remember that this was during an era of intense backlash against anything seen as socialist or the even more vile communist (Look up Palmer Raids in your free time). Anything connected with “Socialism” was anathema to most Americans.
Next Post:
The Great Depression to Medicaid
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Factors of Twelve
I don't carry much most days. Wallets are even too cumbersome for me - I travel light, staying spry. Though, one thing I always try and remember is a notebook and a pen - always a pen, what good is a forest of paper without the tool with which to inscribe? It's like having a naked, riving woman beneath you and no erection.
But just as important is a tablet. I have a long history with pocket sized pads, from the much-touted moleskin of Hemingway to thick, ornately designed paperblanks. I've washed words, lost to a garbled wad of lint; lost them in drunken, hazy evenings, some turn up, some are gone for good. Some sit besides my bed, glimpses of who I was, where my mind swirled.
Reading an entry from this month:
I am not made the same as them
Perhaps I am a metric
Broken into tenths
While they divide into twelfths
A dozen divides separate us
We are not there
Time is not lost
A stand still
Do they know?
They do not.
But just as important is a tablet. I have a long history with pocket sized pads, from the much-touted moleskin of Hemingway to thick, ornately designed paperblanks. I've washed words, lost to a garbled wad of lint; lost them in drunken, hazy evenings, some turn up, some are gone for good. Some sit besides my bed, glimpses of who I was, where my mind swirled.
Reading an entry from this month:
I am not made the same as them
Perhaps I am a metric
Broken into tenths
While they divide into twelfths
A dozen divides separate us
We are not there
Time is not lost
A stand still
Do they know?
They do not.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
I ain't no monkey but I know what I like
there is nothing fake about this song
stripped of its pretension
expectations kicked aside
it is
sunlight through tree limbs,
a warm cup of coffee,
morning in the warm embrace of your bed.
it is all that is right
all that is good
with none of the take.
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