whiskey sermons/tequila psalms

magnet speak random thoughts:

-do you enjoy hot cherry tongue kisses while your faithful swing crush craves withdrawal or love or understanding?

-broken girls dance my soul complete because i am just like them.

-cosmic betrayal of clueless things



of course the resolutions:

1. quit smoking as a habit.

2. workout more than "occasionally".

3. make new and interesting friends.

4. stay true to my girls

5. really live for the 1st time.

6. finish a novel or two.

7. collect more tattoos and maybe a new piercing or two.



and since it is past midnight and i'm alone and the kids are asleep...

the tats i want (and, yes, i'm in love with words/language)

"para los locos y los angeles"

"vous etez l'air je respire quand j'obstrue" (saw this somewhere and love it)

"break the sun" a philosophy and hopefully a spine tat.

"baby-o, i can show you enough to love to break your heart forever"



all these are words i have kept tight in my soul that speak the world to me. hope everyone had a happy new year and may the next bring beauty and wonder and somekind of peace.

(copied from myspace blog. too many damn blogs. seriously. over there under "breakthesun", btw. heh.)

ws22:1 how many fucking secrets am i going to have to keep? honesty is bullshit.


ws43:7 Forever echoes. it's been forever since i last held you. so long, yet the echoes feel fresh.


tp vxi:111 slip down past disbelief and just accept it. nothing else to do really.

tp xiv angels only fall cuz they jump. think on that. messiah tinged whiskey whispers. there's a flash of faith, a glimmer of divine and it gets all dirty and don't come out anywhere near right.

tp xvii slip slide over whiskey tequila tongue messiah lips all glorious and divine truth scented sex.

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no sermon. just an observation:

there comes a point when it is time to dream other dreams. when what was once important in life, those goals you strived so long and so hard to obtain... just kinda fade back, ya know? dream other dreams. life takes on new meaning and you realize you've spent so long chasing shangri-la that you're not even sure what you've missed along the way. and you realize you won't catch it. not because you can't, but because it is no longer worth it to you. there are more important things. like life. like living and being here. like showing beautiful little gypsy girls the world. as a great beat woman once said:

"i can show you enough to love
to break your heart forever."

goddamn right, baby-o. goddamn right.

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often) please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me. It can be anything you want - good or bad - BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.

When you're finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DON'T ACTUALLY remember about you.

9:1 that emotion got so big, there wasn't no place to put it anymore.

11:6 slip down past disbelief and just accept it. nothing else to do really.

ws#4: Catch a fire and let it burn yearn for the moment. let forever slip away. let it all not matter for a little bit.

maybe, just maybe, you'll catch a little of that peace, that divine that peeks out from deep deep down past all the smoke and mirrors. maybe we can find that in each other. only problem is, you gotta try. ain't nothin ever come from letting life pass. gotta grab hold. gotta rage through. gotta rave on, baby-o. no excuses. no bullshit.

ws#5: you ever come down out of fast forward and just look around?

you might have forever. then again, you might not. always dream like you have a million tomorrows and live like you have only today. be a james dean or a marlon brando or a roxy. never let a day go by that you forget to live.

link to a poem i'd forgotton i'd written. i kinda like it better now thank when it was new. odd, that. heh.

http://divineanimal.com/marchedition/dead_language.htm

heh. life got a bit busy. moving, sick kids (tis the season), work workwork. yeah. new place rocks. huge, beautiful (normally not two adjectives i put together). has a fireplace that really works. and free heat (well, no gas bill anyway. living above buisnesses has its advantages). and hopefully internet access soon. then maybe i can actually keep this damn thing updated. i have some more sermons and psalms to post, just haven't had the time.

Sometimes there's too much life getting in the way of living.


When you realize no one is really in charge. There are no answers for everything. You become the adult. How fucked up is that? Nihilism anyone?


_____________________________


running through life all acapella, raging out through a monologue.

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New places, new faces, yet the passions stay the same. friends sneak in and steal up close and before you realize it, you're holding on tight and hoping the ride lasts. falling into a life and discovering that you have control, that you actually get to - have to - make the fucking choices... nothing like freedom to wake one up, eh?

certain people spin all lazy languid through life. some blast through like a shooting star. some just have no fucking clue. not a single flickering, misfired synapse worth of wonder. and it's all about the wonder, ain't it? being reduced to insignificance by it all and loving til it hurts. anykind of wonder. those people, the ones who see with eyes wide open and rave on anyway. that kind of passion. that kind of wonder. goddamn yeah, man.

that. and the hip thing.

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A laugh gone all quiet giddy.

"We're playing around each other like somekind of school children," comes out an almost whisper.


- from "conversations" (real... but, that's all there really is, eh?)

x:iii Takes a smile and jacks it up up into a star smeared sunset full up on golden tangles. platinum intangibles.

x:iv a brief flash and it's gone cuz it was acknowledged. no longer taboo. no longer private. like the world broke trust and it feels like reality went all dishonest.

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Conversations

-- She looks at me. Eyes laugh and lips do a slow curl. "I'm virgin enough."

And that makes sense.

-- "What ya thinkin?" Feel the grin spread.

She looks away, smile pulling at her lips. "How nicely odd."

The phrase catches. "Nicely odd." Think on it. "I like that."

She smiles all brilliant.

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happy halloween. blessed samhain. and all that.

to do tonight:
1. watch "the crow"
2. "Rocky Horror Picture Show"
3. try really hard not to start any fires. ater all, this isn't detroit. heh.

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tequila psalms (unnumbered)

x:i just when you think you got life all figured out, it goes all messy and fucked up. reality bites you in the ass and you don't know what to think anymore.

x:ii too much sometimes and it don't make any sense. but then again, life is full of people and not a one of us has our heads far enough out of our own asses to see anything clear.

2:1 "Angels only fall cuz they jump. Think on that." There's a flash of faith, a glimmer of divine and it gets all dirty and don't come out anywhere near right.

2:2 And i starre into their yellow eyes without blinking once. But they just stare back. Fuck Max.

WS 2:1 Jump and jive to the strange strange beat. Dusty eye dusk sways to blush and pulls everything into sparkles. Drip drip drip godsweat as we dance a grinding jitterbug, django echoes glisten all slippery shimmers up kissing jimi going all distorted and right on through tripped out industrial beat. American music to strip by. Fall into her lips. Languid like perfection mona lisa smile. just a little broken. just a little. just enough for the clouds to part and sunshine bright rain coming down a rainbow and she laughs laughs laughs and it sounds like stars breaking twinkle tinkle like glass.

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ah, yeah. i love the beats. beatniks. whatever you want to call them. the visereal writing.

weekend coming up fast. holloween, the kids all shimmery purple and pink butterfly fairies...

rolling through next week is going to drag, i think. yes, yes i do think it's gonna be a forever week.

1:1 I couldn't tell you what the fuck i get out of it. Johnny Dynamite plays over Foxy Brown to the porno funk and I laugh cuz it makes no sense and I know I've lost it. But it sure is damn fine music, man.

1:2 Feel it starting to slip and before you know it, it's done. No effort needed. Life kinda takes care of itself that way. Bottom drops out and it's a hell of a view.

1:3 There ain't no honor in love and truth is malleable.

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Life is going. Found a new home for the puppy. It's not fair to her to spend so much time alone and in a crate. So, she's moving to Chicago and learning spanish. But she'll have a playmate, so she'll be good. Happy, ya know?

Beautiful girls and amazing women. Gotta love them. October is beautiful. There shouldn't be so much beauty in the death of a season, but there is. I always stop and wonder at it. The trees by the river, the goldorange fields before they're plowed under. Amazing. Fuckin beautiful.

not much time to write this weekend. tossing out the link to a writing group that houses all my writing links. publishing creds, i guess you could call them. hopefully more to add soon. been a dry summer.

here: http://p079.ezboard.com/fbastinadoesfrm21.showMessage?topicID=82.topic

give it a shot. scroll down to the links. and, um, ignore the picture. yes, it's me, but i really need a new one (though it is recent too).

friday night was very cool. if only... ah well. crushes are cool.

more tomorrow. oh, saucer: i'll try to get some pics for you. heh. maybe.

*para los locos y los angeles*

*wanna hear a redemption lullaby, yes i do*

So, enough with the moaning and depression and pity parties. that shit is done. i can't live like that. so let me start wstp over with the above sermon. tomorrow i'll put up a few tequila psalms.

anyway... "old opie occasionally tries trigonometry and feels gloomy vague and hypoactive". heh. yes, i actually do love anatomy. well, the physiology part anyway. life is turning up. dog is really growing on me. she's so damn sweet... hell, she behaves most of the time now. taught her to sit and lay down and not nip so much. heh. get to hang with my girls tonight... then maybe with some bigger girls after the little ones fall asleep.

ah well. so, yeah. espirito rebelde and so on life...

Whiskey sermon 1:8 "on beauty"

sometimes you see someone beautiful and you know that it's more than just the way they look. more than that constellation of skintone, features, bodytype that makes you tingle. they have that look in their eyes that matches yours. a hunger, seeking the same release. or fulfillment, or contentment. whatever the fuck you want to call it. but whatever it is, you can't pull your eyes away. that's when you know you got it bad, muchacho.

wow. this is longer than i thought i'd keep up with this thing. the last few days have been really fuckin rough. not sure why. guess the whole thing just kinda hit home. the whole situation. hopefully that passes soon. today i'm choosing to be in a better mood and it's working so far.

not much to write actually. had a fun night with the girls, painting pumpkins and eating pancakes. back to genetics tonight and anatomy. "my mother says marry money, but my brother says brains matter...?" damn. mnemonics. hate them.

ah well. off to do some work. neoprine and superglue. don't ask. heh.

my friggin body hurts. wrestling a 60 lb puppy into submission to keep her quiet all night after an hour long walk is a decent workout. that and sleeping on couches for the last month or so. or not sleeping. yeah, mostly just lying there staring at the dark. but i found a really cool mazzy star cd that knocks me out quick. turn off the lights, put that in and of to lala land.

ah well. just random thoughts.

sometimes i wish i saw the world in black and white instead of color. or in all shades of red.

from a beat poem: but i can show you enough to love, baby-o, to break your heart forever.

which is true. there is so much beauty, so much to love that it does hurt. partly from knowing that you can never see everything or love everyone that is worth it, but also from knowing that everything is balanced by its opposite. so all that beauty, it really will break your heart. at least it does mine.

maybe i'll post a few stories here later... maybe i'll actually put up some whiskey sermons and tequila psalms. hmm...

i love october. and november. but november feels so far away.