Autumn Day

Lord: it is time. The huge summer has gone by.
Now overlap the sundials with your shadows,
and on the meadows let the wind go free.

Command the fruits to swell on tree and vine;
grant them a few more warm transparent days,
urge them on to fulfillment then, and press
the final sweetness into the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now, will never have one.
Whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the evening,
and wander on the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.

-Rainer Maria Rilke

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Autumn Day

Lord: it is time. The huge summer has gone by.
Now overlap the sundials with your shadows,
and on the meadows let the wind go free.

Command the fruits to swell on tree and vine;
grant them a few more warm transparent days,
urge them on to fulfillment then, and press
the final sweetness into the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now, will never have one.
Whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the evening,
and wander on the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.

-Rainer Maria Rilke

Restful Rest

Sometimes the cats wake me by stirring up trouble with the wires behind the computer, pulling them out and such. Yelling at them doesn’t always inspire them to carry their business elsewhere. So at 5 AM, I smacked the beanbag chair against the wall and they ran to the living room. But it was so intense, a shockwave enough to rattle and kickstart my faulty heater on the other side, creating a gunshot pow. Fuck, I thought, someone calling the cops to question a man just trying to get some rest.

“What is this detour in which I get lost when I try to find myself? What is this screen that separates me from myself under the pretense of protecting me? And how can I ever find myself again in this crumbling fragmentation of which I am composed? I move forward with a terrible doubt of ever getting to grips with myself. It is as though my path is already marked out in front of me, my thoughts and feelings following the contours of a mental landscape which they imagine they are creating, but which in fact is molding them. An absurd force — all the more absurd for being part of the rationality of the world, and seeming incontestable — keeps me jumping in an effort to reach a solid ground which my feet have never left. And by this useless leap towards myself I succeed only in losing my grip on the present; most of the time I live out of step with what I am, marking time with dead time.”

-The Revolution of Everyday Life

Anna’s Onion

heard she was
suicidal

peel this onion

new media scandal

figure it out really
‘cuz the vultures
all around
see fresh opportunity

I just heard
she was
having a hard time

I heard
our entire culture
being questioned

some ladies
get driven down
to the store

some ladies
are driven
to an
early end

and we are done early
too

we say
good riddance
another ho
out of sight
out of mind
though we
bought her calendar
back in the day
and eyes
were attentive
to every detail

imaginations
run stupid

don’t hate me
because I’m no longer
beautiful

don’t hate me
because I’m dead

You Say Your Thing

Houston hands me a bottle and it’s just one and I say thank you World and it laughs, because I laugh, because laughing… is contagious. When you get drunk the spirits come and break the doors down. There are splinters all over this apartment. Getting messed up is congruous. Messed up parallel with being truthful and loose and open and… barriers tumble down. It is the era of the easily written paragraph. This evening we say: “2012 – Buy Nothing Year.” Sunday, fuck shit up day. Go to the symphony, live life up. Do what ya gotta do, right? Sunday as good as any other. I feel good about multiple scenarios being acted out right now. Let me tell you.

Paragraphs. I’ll have one owl please. Sneeze. Sneeze. Let me tell you about some city some time, what it is like to be there, my own little perspective, what it was like to open and shut a window in that neighborhood, the next door neighbor friendly for awhile, then after 911 and the anniversary of the death of his mother, fallen into the world of depression. I can understand it. Me and depression are like this. Me and depression are like THIS. I’m trying to show you but I can’t. My fingers cross. I’m trying to give you a picture of what it’s like to live practically anywhere, but specifically a city or suburb. You say your thing now. We’re trying to talk to one another, not be afraid of one another. Are our motives pure any more? I bet they are. I bet they are.

TV will do something to you, so be selective. Beer will shake you upside down, change will be falling out of your pockets and you won’t remember where you put your book of Bukowski poems. Select your consumption wisely. Select, choose, gamble, take a chance.

An old friend says, “I don’t hate you.” We look up down and about and hard feelings are done the way done things are just, you know, done. Time passes. Say it out real. Be as real as you can be. Fuck the Army, the Navy, whatever. You don’t have to be ALL you can be. Just be you. You yourself. And save what you write, read it later. You can learn from yourself. The “nonsense” shit you write, you find it’s not so terrible upon a reread, or you see into the heart of it, its essence, and you learn to love yourself, slowly, gradually, and it’s something.

2006 was a shake up for me and I’m still figuring it out, if it’s pushed me to the point of insanity, and really, I think it has not, but maybe something close. Then I wonder if that is such a bad thing, because perspective is lacking and perspective is needed. How broad can you make that perspective? If you see the patterns and they are scary, think on it some more. What you see when you close your eyes could be healing. When you kiss someone, it could be healing. Why does it take so long for you to be good to yourself and to allow someone that passage to treat you well? What is it? What is there? Who’s knocking?

If we give up hope, it’s self destruction. But you come to my house, it becomes your house. You wanna grow organic, I’ll point you in the right direction. You wanna talk about some interesting shit, I’ll dig something up. If we love each other, we have to buy very little. We can cancel our cable and watch less TV. If we love, then the bigger answers are on their way. I wanna say it just like that.

On Arguing

“…You can’t put fight into a man’s guts if he hasn’t any fight in him. There are some of us so cowardly that you can’t even make heroes of us, not even if you frighten us to death. We know too much, maybe. There are some of us who don’t live in the moment, who live a little ahead, or a little behind. My mind is on the peace treaty all the time.”

-Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer