Aah... hola, reader. A while ago I found myself on my way to score some beauty rest, as today ended up being quite the long and intense day at work. Lots of weird programming problems, strategic planning meetings, and another employee resignation. Fuck. However, i was suprised to find my friend Val online tonight, so instead of just running off to bed like an obediant Goat should, i chatted for awhile, which was a blast as always.

Feeling the flow, i decided to do a little writing as well. While arguably one of my smallest pieces - and really just this thing that wrote itself - it seemed complete. Lately i'll wait a day or two and massage my works before they tell me they're done, but this one yelled at me right away, telling me i had best save it and post it before i start meddling with it and fuck up something that is best left alone.

It sucks; i've felt really out of tune with my Writin' Goat aspect these past few days. Perhaps coming off my steroids has something to do with that. Either way, the soup i made tonight (so spicy - but so utterly good, and vegan this time, too!) may have given me the firecracker-in-the-ass jolt that i needed to start expressing myself again. I love being in that state, but inevitably life does balance itself, so i go through little spans where i don't even consider writing - almost like i forget that i can. It's natural, i suppose, for that balancing act to occur, but it's always so much fun when the pendulum swings back around and i start writing like a mad fiend again.

(i also did listen to an assload of Disturbed, Powerman, and Lord of the Rings soundtracks today while at work, so maybe all that energy i collected and generated and pushed out and consumed and simply experienced helped relight the fuse, so to speak).

but i'm-a yawning like a bastard tonight, so i should take that as my cue and hit the sack. Have a wonderful night, reader, and dream sweetly.




half past ten, belly full
and I’m swallowed in marshmallow darkness
blindly swimming in
on a Thanksgiving morning, grandma’s house
the shadows drenched in hazelnut and
caramel beneath my desk
as I write
and for some reason in this starvation
I’m not longing, I’m simply
remembering, letting it all
flow back
like black ink
as it crawls down to the sea
river Atlas bearing the weight
of a world captured in
the aching notes of a blues guitar
I remember it all, and I smile


wow... talk about a night! First i see this fucking brilliant sunrise, then i get to hear the new fucking U2 single - Vertigo! Thanks to my ever-connected friend Val, she turned me onto a website that had links to the new single. so of course i had to download it and listen to it, like three times, lol. This is tough dude since i'm sooo tired and need to hit the sack, but i'm just stoked, between this, the fact i wrote again, an awesome conversation i had with zan, and shit, just this overwhelming sense of positive open-ended fucking life that stands before me tonight. Man, this is the stuff i live for.

Oh, and now soy milk, too. In the past day or so i've become rather hooked on the Silk line of vanilla-flavored soy milk - it's just so awfully tasty. I just may have to go score another glass before i slip away for my beauty rest.

Here's what i wrote tonight. very much in the flow, a spur of the moment creation, but one that i'm really digging on, too. simple, yet not all that bad, reader. Have a pleasant night and dream of something awesome, like seeing u2 in concert!!


how it all goes down


my nerves sang steel

they froze the light that lit my eyes
and I slid over the land in a fireball
past trees framed in crisp autumn mist
their leaves crying out in a whispered chorus
and I gazed to the west, always the west
and oh, what I saw –

it would have killed me to continue
so I danced on frantic ferret’s feet
back around the corners
screaming north, west, south and
back again west
always the west
and spied beneath the rain
that last light, the only bit
this endless gray day to shine
with bluegreen evening cloud
risen and eased, and slight mist
draping a nothingweight fog around
a bloated disproportionate beacon
cemented on the gray horizon
determined to stand out and scream

my little furry paws became ensnared in paste
and I was stuck, a mere ferret trapped in
a moment of forever -
my god
this sunset
my one beacon sun -
to think, a
conscious moment’s first
glimpse only -

but I turned around

I turned around and came back home


my god... i am so insanely tired tonight it's not even funny. Quite why i'm not sure, to be honest - but getting into work at 5:55am likely had something to do with it... and perhaps the steroids i'm on, which should rid me of the creeping death. last night they made my back and legs hurt like a royal bastard, and today they apparently chose to instead slam me with a lightning-hot headache. While that's now departed, thankfully, i'm interested to see what's in store for me tomorrow, hehe. I've been making headway at work regardless, though, and getting in a few extra hours to boot. I can use those, then, to make up for the time i'll be spending out of the office for a week starting October 6th.

For the life of me i can't even seem to fucking remember why i'm even taking the time off in the first place. I must be out of it! or just in an extreme case of denial, hehe.

But dig it, i finished a piece i've been working on intermittently the past few days. This one in particular is a little out there, and to be true i'm not even sure what the fuck i meant to capture with it in the first place. I can make a few conjectures, but i started with an awfully rough draft from last week and tonight let the flow polish it up as it saw fit. Here's the result, for better or worse (I think i've written better, by far, but i half felt guilty moving onto another and leaving this one unfinished. For what it's worth, here she be).

I'm so going to bed, reader. I hope you sleep well tonight and have the sweetest of dreams, and we shall speak soon.


whence it came who knows


I was there
held fast beneath what someday becomes
for everyone a single fading dimlight
beautifully tethered to an ancient
ceiling by a rotting cord
in the middle of a room vacant;
a greasy yellow pendant
illuminating the smoke
as it drifts from my right hand, slack
the moment as real as this glass I clench, rigid and wet
dull as my wit tonight
cheap as a dollar-store piƱata
all utterly harmless
but all a bit scary

sit at the table a few moments longer
we all do, we all will
and see cold unconscious force
blend with the restraint of the meek
below this tiny yellow bulb -
to this construction-paper specter raise
an illuminated glass
that reflects your passion
in an everyday ghost, like kindergarten art:
animals complete with cheerful barnyard smiles
and brass fasteners for joints
the little sharp ones that rip
through heavy colored stock
when teased

such fancies are never static
in that forgotten pub
the one we visit in those dimlit moments
where late-night, whiskey-fired inspiration
never lays rest to dreams;
they’re captured
live on location as it unfolds
as lives flex and change like the stars
once orion now the southern cross

so lash out, courageously seize the glass
savor the last and thrust it down
(the heavy table will only voice a modest complaint)
turn around now quickly compel your
chair to scream across the floor

and behind you find only the dusty paneled wall
of this shithole bar
to dance with you tonight
in this place that silences all
where echoes come to die
and our tiny dreams are forgotten
until we end


Tonight's the night, the night that we ride
Tonight's the night we live or we die

I'm just sitting here at work, and mmm... there's nothing quite like a little Powerman 5000 to get a Goat into the perfect early-afternoon coding frenzy.

To my C#, all i can say is "bring it, bitch!" Have a stellar afternoon, reader.




I suppose I should go, though -
more people seem to be coming in
as the sun begins to rise out my window
just a thin
strip of pumpkin daylight
fading to a deep but new rust
that clings to the hills
like the night refusing to release
its hold on the stars
a sky the
autumn harvest
captured above, before
all this
stirring deep within
thoughts of warm evening fires
and cinnamon whispers floating
from timeless grandmother ovens
a simple semaphore
on a new day
fortelling its simple excellence

(written, rather stream-of-conciousnessly, at the end of an email i just sent to Zanny. bam!)


Hey, guys. I've been meaning to drop in and post like i normally do (well, like I used to) and churn out a classic soapbox rant about my day-to-day trivialities. However, feeling the flow again, I decided to substantially tweak - and finish - a piece that i started a few days ago, when feeling particularly stressed from general office insanity. Here's the result.

I need to jet, however, and call up a few folk this evening, still, before i hit the sack. I sincerely hope you have a wonderful Monday night, and the best of days tomorrow. Sleep well.


act of balance


tonight a nightblue whisper is the rhythm
barely there like
a child’s wish, but
now that you mention it
really the beat’s closer to the flat
sound of wind
on heavy lead afternoons
that brushes against paper lanterns
unlit, flirting
with the walls outside
ignoring the insides, leaving them
smeared an unbecoming
eggshell stillness
that overlooks the cobwebs
scattered about in the corners
in an idiot’s fit, laying low
stepping past the vitality
captured on stretched canvases
that hang like regal corpses

soon enough soft rhythm becomes
a pounding blitzkrieg, whispers turning to
daytime battles
and I’m tired, oh so tired
run down by the nothinglight
that filters down through these nothingwindows
onto my plain mercenary nothingwalls

of its burnt nickelodeon image
and stale mildew stench
I’ve grown tired
but my oh my, don’t that wind
sound soft tonight
like drops of the sweetest jazz
falling from the heavens -
the tears of god on the eve of war


Two poems today! On this rather dreary and gray day, i did a little writing (what else to do? sadly i couldn't ride bike this morning on account of the weather and such), and here's what i knocked out. Both of these were pretty quick writes, too - quite unlike "the nightchild ageless", which took a few days of poking around and restructuring.

I think i'll go hit the shower, since i just got done with a little lifting, and then head down to the store and see if i can find another plant. I have three in the house, currently, and I'd like to score a fourth. Plus, i plan on swapping two of my plants - one is getting two big for its pot, and the other just never grew into its quite-oversized one. So, even if i don't find plant that suits the Goat's tastes, i can still get some potting soil and have a wild and dirty transplanting party at my place later today, hehe.

Have an awesome, restful Sunday, reader.


soft september


there’s a single dove alone on the wire
set against an heavy sky
head under her wing
on this charcoal day where the rain
just won’t come
like that lone dove
I’ve been waiting
but the rain won’t fall

held fast to my own wire
I’m glued to this moment
lost in the anticipation of
impending serenity
but ensnared with restraint and doubt;
if I fly, I might get wet, catch a fever,
slip fall and die
but why bury my head
beneath my own wing
when rain is to be danced under,
not shunned

and suddenly the dove leaves

I’d fly beneath this, too
lift off from my wire
and escape this moment
leave it all behind
and let the rain wash down
if only it would


top down transcendence


let’s maniacally scatter ourselves
over the pearl sea above the land
and down inside small places
those nowhere villages
where the clocks stop

let’s get lost in that world
when we’re done
we’ll blow away
feeling the beat riding the wind
we’ll let the waves
gently knock us down
anywhere they please
we’ll explode

and when the end comes
we’ll settle down again
you and I
like cellos in the night


Oh ... i guess i didn't go to bed quite yet, did I? Ha-ha! Instead, inspired by some new music, and the feeling it brought, it seemed high time to write once again. Normally my little works seem to reflect on a certain theme, or have a set "meaning" behind them (although i try not to explain what that is, through my concern that it may taint the reader's perception of what it really means). This one, however, came from who the fuck knows where. Either way, it seemed decent enough to post, rather than hit the proverbial scrap heap of unfinished things that never seem to take off.

Again, sleep well, reader. I'm really going to bed this time. :)


progress in work


the loop of sea green
where evening purple turns to black
and gold peeks ‘round the corners
stay awhile
and rocket skyward
in screaming yellow white
where moonlight ends and pink begins
tossing your beams of love round the earth
like the rising day
that shines over me

shake a little
in a rhythmic trance
blue exotica twisting, blending
with shocking phosphorescence
the kind of thing that kills distance
with its bare immediacy

then, guitar in hand,
sit awhile
and play like a wind-borne whisper
that song I love
Ooo! Photos! I've selected a few cool photos from ones that i've taken - and that some others have taken with my camera - so take a peek if you wish. There will likely be some more to come, as i dig through past ones, and take some more.

Sleep well, reader.





zan, dustin, and the goat

kris and the goat