What to do with a 15 year old…18 pound, Cat

I sit at a keyboard with no letters.

I light a cigarette.

I stare at the venomous screen.

So much to say.

So little pushes through.

So far, I am in the…in-between.

Strong as my back is…built upon years of slaying dragons and their flies.

Far as my gaze can reach…daytime bats, the blue-jays, frolic and distort all that I wish to see.

And, of course, the pitter-patter of a fifteen year old, eighteen pound cat, he knows exactly where my mind is at.

He taunts me like a catholic mother.

Guilt ridden, I am side tracked…insight, will never just hover.

What a show to behold!

Therefore, I always embrace it.

For it is with certainty, recollections will fade…imagery will be less bold.

Masters of War

running on ice 3

Come you masters of war,
You that build the big guns,
You that build the death planes,
You that build all the bombs,
You that hide behind walls,
You that hide behind desks,
I just want you to know…
I can see through your masks.
You that never done nothin’
But build to destroy.
You play with my world.
Like it’s your little toy.
You put a gun in my hand.
And,  you hide from my eyes.
And, you turn and run farther.
When the fast bullets fly
Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive.
A world war can be won.You, want me to believe
But I see through your eyes.
And,  I see through your brain.
Like I see through the water.
That runs down my drain.

You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire.
Then you sit back and watch
When the death count gets higher.
You hide in your mansion.
While the young people’s blood
Flows out of their bodies.
And, is buried in the mud.
You’ve thrown the worst fear,
That can ever be hurled.
Fear to bring children
Into the world.
For threatening my baby.
Unborn and unnamed.
You ain’t worth the blood…
That runs in your veins.heeding the fire 2
How much do I know?
To talk out of turn?
You might say, that I’m young.
You might say, I’m unlearned.
But there’s one thing I know.
Though I’m younger than you.
That even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do.
Let me ask you one question…
Is your money that good?
Will it buy you forgiveness?
Do you think that it could?
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul.
And I hope that you die,
And your death’ll come soon,
I will follow your casket…
By the pale afternoon.
And I’ll watch while you’re lowered
Down to your deathbed.
And I’ll stand o’er your grave
‘Til I’m sure that you’re dead.

“If you can do a half-assed job of anything, you're a one-eyed man in a kingdom of the blind.”  ― Kurt Vonnegut
“If you can do a half-assed job of anything, you’re a one-eyed man in a kingdom of the blind.”
― Kurt Vonnegut

Broken Down Lexus

Regular size, unscented, fantastical.

Sexuality, plus.

Condemnation verses enlightenment.

A box full of multi sized self contained stagnation.

Harems of midgets dancing to bubble gum rock.

The plight of the politically correct…

A bus of friendly ogres to tall for the short bus.

Everyone who isn’t anyone…

disrobe your claim.

Leave your adornments to the van of the vain.

Soul train send the norm right back to once it came.

Faux fur furriers for the mundane.

‘You cannot capture me.  I am only a photo for free.

Prepare the subject matter, offer fashion tips to the mad hatters!’

The really grotesque harbor freewill as though it were plain.

A real freak eats scrambled stars for breakfast.

A real freak drinks monochrome shakes in a broken down Lexus.

freak 2
Happiness is an uphill battle.  So wear good shoes!  Vonnegut

an Odd state of Mind

robbins

As a young and influenced, easily, writer.  My solace from a life of dramatics could be easily be found in three places:

 

Prof. Buso’s office, sipping cheap bourbon.  Discussing the current lack of prolific writers.  Not accounting,Vonnegut,Updike and ourselves.

“I’m willing to show good taste, if I can, in somebody else’s living room, but our reading life is too short for a writer to be in any way polite. Since his words enter into another’s brain in silence and intimacy, he should be as honest and explicit as we are with ourselves.”
John Updike

 

“If you want to really hurt you parents, and you don’t have the nerve to be gay, the least you can do is go into the arts. I’m not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possible can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”
Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country

kurt

Misguided deeds against Big Brother and the machine!

And,

Tom Robbins

“Conversation between a princess and an outlaw:
“If I stand for fairy-tale balls and dragon bait–dragon bait–what do you stand for?”
“Me? I stand for uncertainty, insecurity, bad taste, fun, and things that go boom in the night.”
“Franky, it seems to me that you’ve turned yourself into a stereotype.”
“You may be right. I don’t care. As any car freak will tell you, the old models are the most beautiful, even if they aren’t the most efficient. People who sacrifice beauty for efficiency get what they deserve.”
“Well, you may get off on being a beautiful stereotype, regardless of the social consequences, but my conscience won’t allow it.”
“And I goddamn refuse to be dragon bait. I’m as capable of rescuing you as you are of rescuing me.”
“I’m an outlaw, not a hero. I never intended to rescue you. We’re our own dragons as well as our own heroes, and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves.”
Tom Robbins, Still Life with Woodpecker

Today, everyday, I think an artist should give it up to those who impressed upon them…the importance of not wanting to always be picked for the winning team.

 

Odd is often a misunderstood state of mind!