A year ago tonight I was sent to hell.
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Demolition Man
Tied to the tracks and the train's fast coming
Strapped to the wing with the engine running
You say that this wasn't in your plan
And don't mess around with the demolition man
Tied to a chair, and the bomb is ticking
This situation was not of your picking
You say that this wasn't in your plan
And don't mess around with the demolition man
I'm a walking nightmare, an arsenal of doom
I kill conversation as I walk into the room
I'm a three line whip, I'm the sort of thing they ban
I'm a walking disaster, I'm a demolition man
Angelw8181+1+1=3
Uglier than a three lipped tortise with long brown hair. Wicked wrinkles she doesn't see in the mirror. Horrid, horrid beauty experiment at the expence of passion. This wicked skelator is what I dated. But she was fatter. Bad idea in retrospect. Induced by the aged wrinkled devil incarnate. I came out looking smooth, got a tan, better job and.....lol....more to come.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Done
Put away. Already done to me, 360 degrees ago. Now, I dare you to bring it on. They were waiting for your magnetic memory. They kept me till they realized you were bluffing. I tried to tell them. You'll get the short end, someday. I believe in slow, grueling, relentless karma. This pic will be for you a fond memory of your loving touch as they set the sheets on your death bed.
365 Degrees
I'm awake and well aware of these days. Trace me back a year ago, to this certain curtain stanchion of sun to earth. Think of all that I have exhausted and all that nourishes me now. Think of all whom I've broken orbit with, and those who now consume me. Think of all my new t-shirts. Think of my iPod. Think of all who never flinched when you had me at my knees. Think of all who flashed into non-action when I retaliated. Think of my mind accelerating with speed that your ass will never know. Think of me flipping thoughts and cooking them like pancakes on a griddle, and serving every single one righteously buttered and mapled for all to feast upon. Think about me not broadcasting dork-esque pictures of myself and my non-existent kids, for all the blogosphere to pretend to pander to. Think of me shoveling snow at 10:30 PM as I am ready to sleep, because I hear my friend out there in the cold. Think of me waxing poetic about string, because my work mates depend on me. Think of me not ripping paper, as if that was a threat. Think of me giggling at all things you won't be. Think of me praying you'll rise above. Think of your age in this universe. Think of your growth. Think of your potential. Do you realize that light is the only absolute?
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Jump
I live an die in imagined futures of my mind.
For extended lengths of time.
Then, even though awake, I wake up.
Is that weird?
Friday, February 18, 2005
No Nyquila
Tonight I have accumulated a partial manifesto, burned 4 custom discs, talked to 3 friends, posted an old poem, written 12 headlines, and put together a creative touchstone for the people I work with—replete with cover art and binding. And rewrote a movie pitch. God, I love not drinking Nyquila. I’m not a religious man, but I love Iris Dement’s songs. And found out that a house in Chris' neighborhood just was sold for $800,000. Four walls, a roof and a quarter acre of bad grass. Damn.
NJ might not look good on the news or on Jay slackjaw Leno's dumb ass old people show, but bottom line? Things get done here. And it's beautiful once you get off the Turnpike. I'm one of the one's who gets things done and lives far off the pike. Near the shore. Know what? Go for Bush's Social Security plan, dumb asses. Invest all your future in corn and pork bellys and silicon. Our state's economy and citizen savvy is three steps ahead of anything west of here, other than California, in conviction and focus.
Not bad for a guy who slipped on an opened potato chip bag in the middle of the living room a week ago. As his cat laughed in the way cats do.
Groove
I am the bad guy. I groove temptation.
Advice to those of you in my boots:
Are you experienced?
If so, be like fire, be an emotive force.
Prey on the day.
Demand that damned pleasure.
Why?
Because memorized moments of life
hold frozen keys to the future of you.
The past made you what you are now.
It’s time to cultivate those feelings long plowed under.
Bring your dreams to life.
You have feelings buried under years of incremental silt that deserve the beauty of daylight,
let alone the brightness of a welcoming, revelatory smile.
You should not judge harshly; you should not judge at all.
Seduce, not over minutes or hours, but over weeks, months if necessary.
My blood is the color of a strong improvisational glance.
Match it, I assure you, we’ll soon someday dance.
Yours should be of similar hue.
Pray to the god of mega.
Be the god of you.
Periodically, I make a coordinated effort to resurface through the ice of frozen tides.
I do not break the ice.
I melt the ice.
I breathe tonal fogs and dream of feathercats to feed my inspiration.
Our generation, despite rumors to the contrary, is not lost.
We segue into newer kisses.
We touch, figure, adapt, initiate, explore and
We can be slippery and be seen while being the scene.
We rock.
We can go underground and dance with dozens, then alone.
Then walk away.
I have hazy, hazy motives and project cool, convincing glances.
A hip nature comes to mind.
Sometimes it’s time to be the savior doctor,
sometimes it’s time to recklessly accelerate with determination.
Sometimes it’s time to listen to you
whisper and breathe
and imagine you four seasons into the future.
I refer to old chart pages of Rolling Stone for nostalgia.
I burn memories like others burn dinner.
I establish myself today, I live for tomorrow.
I get serious about not getting serious.
Are you experienced?
- PK. Long time ago.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Arthur Miller is dead
"When any creativity becomes useful, it is sucked into the vortex of commercialism, and when a thing becomes commercial, it becomes the enemy of man."
"The apple cannot be stuck back on The Tree of Knowledge; once we begin to see, we are doomed and challenged to see the strength to see more, not less."
"If I see an ending. I can work backwards." (My personal fave)
---all Arthur Miller, GRHS
arak
Happy Birthday, Kara. Tell us how 40 feels. We're going to catch up to you very soon. Hope we take it as gracefully as you inevitably will.
Friday, February 11, 2005
Don Quixote
Few will have the mind or circuits to accumulate it all. But this is one bitchin entry for those who dig deep.
Donquichottery as: an unpractical-idealist course of action (French: orig)
Rapture's soul shall find
Fury boils
for heaven’s foil
Trade you 500 zephyrs for one lilting hosanna
Body toils
Mind roils
PK 2-11-05
Anti-Windmill
I got close, again, then scared like I was seeing a T-Rex bearing down on me in floodlights. Cursed and fought like the dickens, as if my very life depended on it. I'm fighting anti-windmills. If anyone gets that, more power to them.
Bad
But I defeated my own purpose and, again, was my own worst enemy. At least I've rationalized my self-hate. Big price to pay. Coppery coinage in return.
1,000
My goal was to make it to 1,000 hits a month before March 1, 2005. I beat it by 2,000 hits and a full month. Not bad for a novice.
Sunday, February 6, 2005
Click
Has anyone else seen this on the AOL home page? This is MY camera. I have the exact same one in the exact same color (burnished copper). I feel like I'm famous or something. Whew. What a rush. OK, I know I'm a geek.
Saturday, February 5, 2005
Question
What shall be the topic of my next short story?
The stuff I never post. What do y'all want to hear a story about?
Stained happily for life
whenever i get depressed i keep coming back to the fact that the red sox won the world series this year.
Friday, February 4, 2005
Hiroshima
Personally bombed a presentation today that my work mates rescued. But we did well in spite. Nothing sells like sex. I'm ready to be crucified on Monday.
PK