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I Kan't Spell



Monday, January 30, 2012

 
I traveled...

...around the world in hopes of Zen.
I found some pot.
I found some whores.
I saw beatings
My country went to war.
I lost my nerve yet -
I found my spine.
I coveted unearned wealth
And read to sleep divine.
I went to the temples
And I slept with the monks.
I laughed with the liars
And I cried with the drunks.
I trained at the circus...
The circus of life.
I questioned my morals
And slept with your wife.
I walked on burning coals
in the sands of Phuket.
I swallowed clean water
From hands unmet.
I trampled on lovers
And slayed hearts in their path
I watched as my ruthless friends
Stared and laughed.
I took advantage of all that I could
Rarely in purity
And in absence of good.
I traded my father
For a time traded lie
I watched as my mother
Continued to die.
I called at their names
In the dark with a bottle
I scrawled on the walls
As a mother would coddle.
I knew all the words
To all the worst songs
I knew all the rights
But did all the wrongs.
I tried my hand at luck
And found there was none
I wondered of faces
In masks not undone.
I threw to the wind
My precious tired youth
I took no one's word
But admitted in truth
That I was a liar
A fraud and thief
I made people believe in
The tree for the leaf.

In the time of your birth
The stars intertwined.
And now that you're almost here
I can rest in my own time.



Tuesday, January 17, 2012

 
Man juggle

I often ask myself, "What is it to be a man?"

Is it being honest?

Is it fighting for your country?

Is it being able to fix and drive a big rig?

Is it being able to fight?

Is it providing your family?

Is it having a steady set of beliefs and never wavering on them?

I have no idea personally. I can only tell you what it feels like to try. There is no answer in life. There aren't any clear cut paths. You learn that as you get older. You basically get thrown a lot of balls and hopefully you catch some.

Think about it...

How many things have you screwed up?

How many friends have you lost?

How many times have you made someone cry?

Those are balls thrown your way that you dropped. I guess the key is to get really good at juggling. I mean - as you get older you start to realize that certain things don't matter. You become more and less selfish as you continue to develop. You see certain things in certain ways.

For example when I was younger - I though being a man was taking care of your family and having a belief system. As you get older you see that - men you respect - didn't do this. He was thrown a lot of balls and dropped some.

As I was older than I previously stated I thought being man was being able to fight or have a disagreement without backing down. To look someone in the eye was held in high esteem. Also to be able to fix things... but again... at this point in my life those all have different variables. Do I want to go to jail? Do I play this game of chess with this person differently? Do I not have time in my life to learn how to do things that a man should be able to do?

All very confusing...

The reason I write this is because I feel no older or more of a man now than when I first had these thoughts.

I'm just a person trying not to hurt anyone. I'm trying to keep love in my heart, passion in my soul, and people that I love happy. Difficult I know... The next phase, from what I've noticed, is to be selfish... I hope that doesn't happen but like with all things on Earth - there is no epiphany. There is no "ah hah" moment - there are only balls being thrown at you - and as you get older - some times you lose coordination to juggle.



Thursday, January 12, 2012

 
Tromian Imagination

There was a time and a place that magic lived. It was before the mind developed into something that lacked whimsy. We had the Johnny Walker Black character to lead us by the hand and and poke out in front of our eyes with his cane.

"There lies the last of the Tromians. Do not disturb them. They have no need for you. But they keep you safe."

His gold hat and gold pants and tuxedo jackets seemed so out of place in this timeless time. He was so tiny. He spoke through the mouth of animals and fog. He came from a time where there was no time. He came from the book of Haruki Murakami. He came from my imagination. He came from a time of magic.

The Tromians were his creation to keep us all safe from our own mind.

They had nothing to do with you or me. Only Haruki knew there power mixed with the vapor.



Tuesday, January 10, 2012

 
Hurrah hurrah

She was saying "Hurrah! Hurrah!"
Her mumbled mouth
In the corn sun
With 2 toe headed children poking at her knees
I always thought it was funny
To be celebrating hurrying.



Monday, January 09, 2012

 
I asked once

I asked once, while I was sitting and looking out of a coffee shop window, a window - by-the-by - that I never wanted to be sitting in front of (a coffee shop - how preposterous). Anyway... I asked once "What is it you like about that?"

She replied, "I don't know."

And I had no idea where to take the conversation from there. I looked out the coffee shop window, hating that moment. I hated the local alternative paper. I hated the idea of someone in there being smarter than me. I hated the idea that no one knew me and or thought I was a "narc". I hated the idea of being in a coffee shop, a place that had nothing to do with me. A coffee shop is such an inanely succinct bowl of perfunctory filled with vapid scarecrows that bark out nonsense like "I don't know."

I wanted to scream. "BUT YOU'RE IN A COFFEE SHOP!!! AND YOU'RE DRINKING COFFEE. AND YOU'RE STARING OUT A WINDOW!" How could she not know? How could she not have an opinion to rattle out of her rattling head? Where was the sense in all of this?

It made me hate like fire searches air. It made me seethe in my seat that I was in this place with these neophyte fake Marxists over hearing talk about custom beers and local bands. I was smelling their yesterday's grease basket and staring at their 'I don't care' clothing and wanting to punch the life out of all of them with a sledge hammer.

I asked once. I asked once and I almost killed someone over a simple 'I don't know.' Let that be a lesson to those seeking to conform the conformed. Answer the question - with at least a question.

 
Glimpses: 49

She slipped

On her way back up the stairs.

She was carrying these silver boxes

With lavender and cream ribbons. They

Were intended to be used for

The presents we meant to give each other.

As her foot gave way she caught them all

One hand on top

One hand on bottom.

She sat her body on the old pine step -

Looked at me -

Laughed -

Love.

All of it lays within her one simple slip.





Favorites List
Pandora Song List
Amazon Wish List
Reading
Revolutionary Wealth - Tofflers
Brian Jones

Things Making Me Smile
The City
Newness
Listening - [out of 5]
Benjy Ferree - 4.8
The Thermals 3.1
David Gray 3.8

Quote(S)
Like the guy with the beard? YES - like the guy with the beers. What? Yep

Bands That I Check Schedules For
Badly Drawn Boy
Belle and Sebastian
Benjy Ferree
The Black Keys
Deerhoof
Drive By Truckers
The Eels
Enon
Kimya Dawson
Mark Hopkins Band
Oasis
Iron and Wine
Mates of State
Ted Leo
Travis
Two if By Sea
Ween

Places I Rock in the Flesh
9:30 Club
Black Cat
Electric Factory
Fletcher's
8x10
The Knitting Factory
The Otto Bar
Recher Theatre
Sonar

Places I Eat/Drink in the Flesh
Aldo's
Bishop's Collar
Boccacio's
Cross Street Market
Hull Street
Joun Gak
Mick O'Shea's
No Way Jose
Porter's
The Irish Pub
Turner's
The Waterfront Hotel

My Greatest Hits (that's so lame)

The time I almost killed a child
July 4th in Korea
Excerpts from Demian
Why I screen phone calls
Bret's Death Metal Report
A conversation at a cocktail party
A conversation at breakfast
So you think you are a Baltimorian
A conversation about a girl singer
Observations from a bar
Observations of strippers
Tech Language
Why I love Oasis
I would go to war
"You Son of a Bitch" An Open Letter to Tom Friend
Dance to Your Ocean
Dream Ranch
When men become pussies
Jason Whitlock is a racist propaganda promoter
Pitchfork takes music snobbery to new level
The Cosmic Clash of the Red Sox and Cubs
The Hatred that is Runts Candy
Starting corporate line-up
Google Bio
Do you know me? List 1 / List 2 / List 3
The Night I Burned Philly Down
So You Want to be a Booze Hound
She Said it was Free
Funniest Corporate Story Ever
Striped Shirts and the Fucks that Wear Them
Death Peddle
NEW!!!
Pieces of Morning
Oasis Album Revew
The Art of Tipping
Starting Fires With Grass Stains
Bret's Federal Hill Food Review
Sexcapades and your Picture on the Internet
Stupid Secrets
Stupid Secrets the Return


Contact Me

Stuff I Swing By From Time to Time

- MUSIC
Donewaiting.com
hive3.com
Indie Video Archive
Large Hearted Boy
Important Records
Oasis News
Pitch Fork Media
Reptilian Records
Scenestars MP3 Blogs
Sound Garden Baltimore

- BUY
Aloud.com
Pre-Shrunk
Shotgun Apparel
Warrior Clothing

- HUMOR
Angry Little Girls
Atom Films
Eye Envision
Homestar Runner
Kill Frog
Junior Varsity Meat Market

- PERSONAL
Baltimore City Paper
The Baltimore Sun
Calvert Hall
Degroen's Brewers
ESL Cafe
Fantasy Sports
Korean Herald
Villa Julie College Baseball
W3 Schools



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