onslaught of the new

reality follows me to my sleep in the evening, when I get in and crash.
no matter. seems I have no control over it.
watching movies.
“then, I will replace you with a double!”
a commentary of a horror film.
soon the night ritual of turning on NPR
and lying back down
“tell me how you will harm me when even I
don’t know how I can harm myself”
it is the end of August
the horses represent the onslaught
of the new
“I will replace you with a double . . .”

old silent classic

I’ve been compiling notes
reading sporadically
breathing in and out
it has not been an easy month
completed and printed only 10 copies
of my new book, immediately starting on
within, these new books are crudely scribbled out
but I feel realistic and well . . . I can’t put
my finger on it now


Thursday evening notes

thunder and lightning this evening, writing with no one in the house, just the sound of the air conditioner, depression, hoping no one will write or call to tell me to stop being depressed because it only makes it worse. when I comment that depression in the air, it is more like an observation and not a complaint. though I do have complaints, and I’m not all that psyched that I’m feeling so out of it, stressed, overworked, overwhelmed, and so on. it makes for an unclear mind. the work world is a horrible place and I’ll say what the hell I want. I can be a man of little words, like now. I don’t ramble on with one subject, but scatter across with multiple things on the plate. for now I’m off to watch some television.

nocturnal notes on: “Knowing You Has Been A Kick To My Stomach”

yes the book is done
and what a reward
looking at it
laying back in bed
it has been an honest
and torn up endeavor
didn’t try to
make it pretty
it came along with me
thrashed up in my bag
thrashed up with me
my worn eyes
cracked finger
paranoid self

it is something pure
to get away to
read and write
at least more pure
at least . . .

but how can you describe
what you’re really feeling
no matter what
it comes out second rate
the real thing inside of you
is doing the writing
and what comes out
on the page
is merely a tribute
writing can never fail
in that way
the success is personal
if you want it
then you’re already successful
if you’re sitting there reading
analyzing your favorite author
pondering someone’s particular
style and thinking what method
you can adapt as your own
then you are one
successful son of a bitch
you are on your way
and no one has the right to
tell you any different
but will anyway
for the sheer hell of it
because it’s a commercial
because I don’t know
what will it matter anyway
their words or yours?
people love authors because
they need friends

power, no power, some power, none, revisiting power

this new booklet I’m writing “knowing you has been a kick to my stomach,” will be done in a couple days. anyone interested in a copy please let me know, because it is a limited offer.

power has been off and on tonight
making us appreciate the
boon of electricity
and air conditioning
in this maddening
brain baking heat
for now plenty of
water is available
for the three of us
my wife, myself,
and my cat
I love putting a cup
in front of him
and watching him drink
I love passing through
these experiences
I don’t see the sense
in a lot of things
rather I see
the nonsense in them
get home and rest
listen to music
write a few words in
candle light
off the street and
out of trouble
the world tries
to drag me out
of the house
unsuccessful at
being J.D. Salinger
so far anyway
break away with some
money and say
goodbye to the world
go and sit
like a buddha
be happy with poems
the small things
with words casting off
poisons and maintain
a few friendships
it’s all I can think of
to say for now

sunday afternoon

one of my favorite restaurants
was closed for
health violations
so much for those plans
our 3rd anniversary
we were going there
but bugs in the food
that’s no good
wasn’t even aware . . .
I will go and
make some
mac and cheese
to stop the growling

no vertical challenges for me

perhaps at a later time
I will sit down here
and write to everyone
what my daily routine is like
if I am moved to
but for now
I will return carrier
and see what happens
it’s the middle of the night
and I have work in the morning
lately I’ve been inspired to
read and write again
which I’m ecstatic about
because it feels like
my better mind
is being returned to me
it is a serious fight to maintain
that drive and passion
when other things have
such an ability
to wear you down
basically you have to
build up a tolerance to it
a thick skin
and move on in your life
becoming more of an old man
day by day, in a good way I think
each birthday has that
sense of shock to it
let’s see, carrier return:
the present moment – classical music playing
they say it helps your intellect to listen to it
for myself it is hard to say
it’s nothing distracting my writing
I can say that much
and it’s nice to listen to

it is easier for me to write
in vertical form for some reason
perhaps because my thoughts
are usually so fragmented/varied
I move on from one thing to the next
and don’t feel ashamed
I’ve noticed that this was
Henry Miller’s style also
I like to free associate
I don’t adhere to writing any sort
of essay or college term paper
even if a gun were held to my head
my pen would be pissed
and wind up writing poetry
and I would die for that

I don’t know how prepared I can be . . .

violin, cello, and the piano
are my favorite combinations

the phone woke me up
and a guy asked me if any
cabs were available
I didn’t know
what the hell he was
talking about
then realized and said
no, I’m sorry
this is a private residence
he apologized and
we both hung up

work is off and on
there are so many things
I love and hate about it
which is a real headfuck
the worst of them all so far
I wish someone would pray
for me
that I reach some kind of
sanity and keep it
that my head is clear
so I can write
and go deeper
the blank page is
such a mosque
I am so
is that just another
material thing not sanctioned
to pray for

I think tonight’s notes should end here
more later of course
or so the Germans
would have us believe

life rhythms

nothing expected
this means
it is just the first thing
that comes to mind
I expect nothing from
anyone else when
I am here
only that there is
very little needed
to write
except a hand
to plot the words
it is no longer ink
but digital
got up from a long nap
the kind which has me
feeling hit by a truck
read 11 pages of
Henry Miller at
the dinning room table
the cat crawled into
a bag and was peaking out
trying to attack the
edges of the bag
my hand
my foot
exhausted I try to read
stay away from the television
there should be purer silence
of drinks hit water
I don’t understand
those violently passionate
lifestyles which obviously
has them lacking

fighting with an ignorance here
don’t see a person but
a force
that comes down
a production line
and is slain in production fashion

please do right, see it in yourself to do it

I miss the hell out of my friends
a few weeks ago I went to see them
in Philly and was a little nervous in
a sense because I knew even though
I had never met them in person
that off the bat I was really going
to like them, being from conversation
I deducted they are some of the kindest
and real people I had the fortune to meet, yet without
any sort of fanaticism or righteousness
or any of it – which naturally in the
presence of that being aware of it
had me trying for the same
for this first visit nothing extravagant
to the naked eye – talking on the bed
watching some TV, playing some
video games, all warm companionship
I thought what could I possibly offer
in return unclear as I am now
uncertain in spirituality
no longer the same, reading the books
or visiting the temple, out of that
loop or mind frame
(not that I condemn it, but that I
feel estranged from it)
I liked how they lived in the Ghetto
seemingly no one else
to turn to but themselves
and God, the truth of the moment
the truth of things
to read, write, to observe
live simple under a low rent roof
with almost humorous surroundings
at times, chickens in the alley
neighbors below banging
on the ceiling.
finally away from work
I fell back on the bed many times
and just slept and successfully
forgot that world
maybe even hoping I
wouldn’t have to go back
being in a new environment,
traveling, made many things
clearer and it felt good
to feel so awake
to have friends
it is my worrying nature and
I knew it but still worried
that I was a burden
that I could be talking too much
or any number of things
that they would be too kind
to mention, that maybe if I weren’t
so dull I could see myself
and correct it
such is a first meeting
you try to return the friendship
and not feel like a corrupt bastard

it was fun watching stupid shows
and playing video games
sitting there eating food
listening to gunshots . . .
only I had neglected to write
or read and my mind
craved it like it craves it now
over these days of revival
special August hours
precious in its own
reminding me two years ago
of Hitchcock’s 100th Anniversary
and how I walked around then
listening to the NPR documentary
of the music from his films
and read Poe developing an
appreciation for horror
not only as a great form of entertainment
but as a philosophical truth reaching me
horror in the form of literature or a movie in
a way that was more tangible more welcome
that would cause bad dreams to which
I had no aversion

while alive
I hope to crush down
the wicked

pure reasoning powers

my head is so clear
at least it seems
can’t get back to sleep
and all these ideas &
going through my head
probably worthless
I like to make things
draw little charts
in reality it’s like this . . .
I think it comes down to
people not even
wanting to listen
that’s the frustrating part
they think I have
an attitude or something
and maybe they’re right
I’ll be honest
I am angry
I’m fucking pissed
I’m losing sleep over it
try not to let it get to you
they say
so I try to be this quiet
undisturbed powerless person
that they want me to be
but that freaks them out
it is hard knowing what
the small shop turned corporate
really wants
in the end it’s power and cash
and the employees won’t get to
joke around or relax or any of it
they won’t even be around probably
on the work isles will be robots
fine for them
let me tell you this is the only
real place on the planet and come to
and be myself
the self is always exposed
to the opinions of others
I try my best to be caring towards others
and in turn I want to be cared for
I learn martial arts
but for real martial arts will be
collecting dust because
I don’t want to fight with anyone
it’s just preparation for the worst that’s all
the worst of the worst
is all around me in downtown DC

Casey and I are trying to deal with
each other’s personalities
and Rudra
our cat acts as a mediator
a friend says cats are spiritually uplifting
there’s a statistic out there how
people with pets live longer

we need to be happy
not losing sleep over bullshit
yeah, too much bullshit

sharpen up the intelligence
and cut through as much as possible

these notes run on for the present
4 o’clock in the morning
Rudra and myself awake
animal and human animal
I’m going to try to write more
buy a new notebook on the train
I fill up small ones and just toss them
on the dresser
the radio is on a lot
I change and it’s interesting to me
never before would I feel calm
listening to classical music
and listening to calmly presented
news updates
and now for some Bach
now for some Tchaikovsky
violin and piano anything by
Ernest Bloch is my request list
28 years old is different from 27
certainly from 26 definitely from 25
and so on
as I was saying I’m fascinated by time
and how it changes things
I don’t want my job to ruin, narrow, or limit me
in any way – emotionally, physically, spiritually
I’m not the only one pissed off there
people say you obviously need to find a new job
believe me I’ve been spending hours looking
I’m scratching mosquito bites in early August
waiting to hear back from people
nasty mosquito bites
notes: I like to set things straight
as clear as possible
move on from there and do my work
purity or no nonsense interests me
what does it mean to be pure
is it a clear mind
a spotless mind
in purity
does the real answer come to you
just exactly what you’re supposed to do
life is a dream they say
lighten up
I guess everyone is fighting to
get to the beach
it sucks it’s so crowded once
you get there
then you try to go further down
where it is secluded
to seclusion
to something close to pure
clear everything from the mind
and ask yourself for real
if God exists
who the hell you really are

“I’m afraid I’m
shot up full
of holes and I
leak like a glass
of water”

who said this

was it God
was it me
a combination of the two
was it illusion
a combination of television commercials
or reality shows or what

my cat is staring at me
the love I have for him
is the purest thing I know right now
and I wish I could share it
I wish I had a camera (and I will eventually)

I don’t know how much time I have left