It's times like these i wish i had more bananas and some Slayer. Alas.
other than that, today hasn't been all that bad, although i'm getting really burned out from work i think. Tonight i was just dead, and ended up napping for awhile, nursing a somewhat off-kilter stomach. Alas, i just have one more hour to do tonight, and tomorrow's nine hours, and then i'm off for a day on Thursday - for thanksgiving, of course. This should prove a bit interesting since it's my first vegetarian T-day, and i reckon most of the family will still be a bit perplexed at the fact i won't have any turkey, gravy, stuffing, taco salad (a staple on my mom's side of the family), etc.
sorry... no more turkey, bacon, and other assorted dead creatures for the Goat. :) just pumpkin pie and taters! mmmmm and cranberry sauce, fuck yeah dude.
I hope you have the most pleasant of nights, reader, and when you slip into slumber this night, dream of the first time you went nuts as a child and had two fucking packets of hot chocolate mix in one mug, instead of the plain, wussy, watery single packet ... and remember how blissful that was. Goodnight, guys.
take my hand and let’s stroll
a bit further down this path
let the trees flanking us blend with the land
in a slow-motion blur
while the seashell vapor trails scud overhead
in a fury of urgent retreat
each carving eccentric courses
painted by an idiot’s scattered hand
connecting a million nowhere points
in the silence
and behind that silent place
underneath your vision
notice that little flame, how it whispers orange
like the west this hour
and oh, how it makes you feel young!
so let’s stop for a time
can you still recall how we laughed
under the blue as children,
our knees dusty in the sun?
do you remember?
to us those marshmallow lines in the sky
and the dreams they wept
were hidden away for our later years
but we noticed the grass
and how raw it smelled beneath our heels –
we were young and we noticed the grass!
but many a tick has tocked since then
so pick up with me now and move farther
along this tiny ribbon in the grass
because in this tale we are always young
still shackled and bound by awe
on a green rug of wonder
of this afternoon is a pale
one, bland like steamed dirt
and bitter like bile,
the dead land and weakened sky
swirling together in the contrasting flight
that streaks towards the bigger city
and the bolder life
which holds its colors close
and guards them like a child -
so much spicemusic we never hear
in a land of English cuisine!
all our ethnicity drains away
into the urban scene
leaving only us,
the remnants of today,
bangers and mash
I'd write more, reader, but poor Goat is starving! Being of the vegetarian persuasion i've been munching as many good foods as i can, such as spinich and what not, in an attempt to score some more nutrients ... and i have a fierce amount of leafy greens downstairs that are screaming to be made into a salad so i may eat them, in rather short order. So off i go! Have a pleasant night, reader, and dream sweetly tonight.
(oh, i wrote something just now, too! nothing too grand, but mayhap it will get me back in the flow to write; something that i haven't felt strongly in a week or two, much to my dismay.)
the gilded eve
in this moment
I’ll let my fingers breathe fire
and my words drip air, because
in the silence of the night
I know you’re
peeking over my shoulder with a smile
as I weave this life together
thread after thread
and I feel your hands on mine
as I stitch the soft cotton
time the hidden spinster, creating without end
you see from a sea
of fluff and fabric
to tuck us in under these icy skies
and soften the blow of enormous days
a quilt to blanket the land
and ease us into the night
so tonight and forever
I bid you stay
for this feels like home,
and oh the fire’s
So... once again, my inherent grace fails me and i've landed myself with a twisted ankle.
It's not really all that bad, but it does hurt like a bitch when i'm walking around; so hence the injury i've decided to take a breather and chill out at home today. I did keep myself productive, though, and did a few hours of work, cleaning up the code for my program at work (which, mind you, gets installed Tuesday afternoon in Dickinson - that should be interesting!). I also napped, which is always kick-ass, and talked to zanny and the lobster, which is always kick-ass as well.
Then i found myself fiending to write. Thing is, i feel real fucking looped out, and in pain from my damned casualty of war, so to speak, so the writing just wouldn't come - and it pissed me off! I hate how your body will get in the way sometimes and block what you want to do. Such as write, or go out and be active (incidentally i also felt a strong desire to go mountain biking today, but that was obviously cut... grr!). What i was able to write, however, touched on that feeling - that feeling of desparation, hopelessly ruled by forces somewhat out of our control - pain and spaciness.
Now, yeah, of course i didn't have to get trashed beyond all belief and fall up the only two fucking stairs in the entire house, but hey - it was fun! (the partying part, not the twisting of the ankle and resultant icing via mixed vegetables.)
I'm going to go score some chow, ah reckon, since perhaps that will get me back into the world of the living. Have a fine rest of the evening, reader, and when you slip beneath the covers this night, dream sweetly.
beneath the cloth
steal this shroud from my face
that veils my thoughts from my fingers
and drains my smiles through the
open hole of my pain, that
gaping void which drinks my tears
like a parched camel dying in the sand
grasp it and bid me feel!
because I’m lost again
in one of those elusive hideaways
where the body lets you know
it’s still around –
where mortality opens its eyes
takes a breath
and screams like a newborn babe
leaving you helpless in welcoming the pain
with arms tightly closed
and a face set in iron we greet it –
behold the cunning visitor that whisks away
our tragedy and comedy!
mark how it wraps its icy travelling-salesman fingers
around your gut, twisting
sending the ache sliding up your spine
in drops of sticky fire
and see with eyes wild
how it so easily trades places,
leaving your mind outside on the stoop
as it steps into your home’s evening glow
alas, left to weather another night
under the stars abandoned
"You are spontaneous and love kisses and affection from the ones you love."
"You have a lot of love and friendships in your life"
"The year will go very well for you and you will discover that you fall in love with someone totally unexpected."
"Your life will take on a different direction, it will seem hard at the time but will be the best thing for you, and you will be glad for the change."
"Dustin is my best friend."
"This is how many close friends you have in your lifetime. (i chose 16)"
"You like adventure."
"You are loyal to your friends and your lover and are very reserved."
very interesting... :)
Have a wonderful, peaceful night, reader!
oil the color of death
collects in pools
on top of silver-hot
iron, the heat sandblasting my face
into betrayed crimson,
but it sits too long and scorches
the nostrils nervously tasting the stench of burning
in thunderheads of whipping acrid white
battle-cry of straining climbs and
the one you’re deaf to, but
oh you can smell and see
and before my eyes it’s a scene
washed in grays, golds, smeared engine grease
and I find myself again a bit lost
in a faraway dream, wearing the helmet
of a roman warrior and riding the battlefields
under a bloated Gaulish sun
exacting my shining pearl hatred
on everything alive dead and barely slithering
gleefully leaping from my warhorse
and crushing beneath my steel heels
life and love
in a sea of red
while I laugh –
laugh like a madman
against a sky of blood
and an earth covered in sorrow
empty save for my raspy cackles
and those dead beneath me
it’s something I’d rather
cast back under the rug
but sometimes, oh how the wind will blow
and flare those tiny flames!
scorching the edge of the carpet and
revealing a bit of grease, and maybe
a tiny pool of black oil,
the tiniest voice of a world going out