the detailed examination of an insomniacs salvation, cartoons and fastfood

(this letter has been sent drenched with the sent of sweet tea and maddness (that's the way she likes it...))

Hey Hatter!


remember that conversation you and I had
contemplating over what Master Shake says
in the jingle intro/outro
of that purely wonderful
witty and comical
creation of animation?
and you thought he might be singing
which would be quite fitting
for it keeps repeating
"lets sing and loop it"
a clever idea indeed
but in the end
we never came to a conclusion
on what words were actually spoken

well I've discovered
in a re-run
the answer
to our question
"dancing is forbidden"
is what that aggravated
milkshake sings

check out
the "Rabbot"
their first one
for more conformation
and carefully listen
to Shake's dialogue
while he's smashing the jambox
the first time we meet
sweet dancing Meat Wad



love always
~*Hare

traped to the nest by spider webs

I am left
a little less
in each contorted way
you claim to love
or control me

and in this distance
between us
I search for something
to understand
your love with
something
to stitch the wounds with
something
that hurts less
something
like friendship

and you can clip my wings
to control my life
so I can't fly
but it only drives
me further off
into that distance
between us
searching for
a little more
to bridge the gap
as it widens

the migration of butterflies

the dim bar light caught in your hair
like a wicker sunrise
and then
there was
the rest of my life
and I would fall into that vision forever
stricken
with your image
fucking my brain
and heart
and day to day
meanderings

you mess around my mind
like and ADHD child
searching for his birth certificate
just to prove he's still alive
while some lover in the somewheres past
paints your portrait god-like
wide eyed

and they all fall
one by one
at your feet
for you are their king
no matter how moth-eaten
your robe may be

but that crown you wear is your burden
and maybe I 'm the only one who knows it
they see the spotlight you shine in
I see the corners you hide in
their repetitive affection
and your addiction
that draws you in
time and time again

we both know where the other stands
roaming strange and free
through the railroad earth
that's what they love
watching butterflies fly
anticipating where they'll land
maybe this time upon their hand
then the cage comes down
and you are theirs
whithering restrained

well dear I own no cage
our wings are one in the same
and I know your pain
and the only expectation
I would hold you under
is to be YOU as you are
strange and free and winged
with or without me

so I don't paint you like the others
and I put down the phone
every time i feel
my heart flooding with your face
consider it repression
i see it as careful steps taken
but know this dear friend
I bring only the truth
even though I may not be
worshiping at your feet
or dragged behind you
like a rag doll
through the streets
you still haunt my thoughts
and rule over my heart

never ending
a mystery
one for the history books

untitled

We swung back and forth
On the hammock
simply because
We enjoyed each other’s company.
When it began to rain
We liked the feeling
Of each drop on our arm
And the only sound
We heard was the highway
Trucks driving back and forth.
We really shouldn’t have been
On the hammock together
And when it started to pour
We still didn’t go inside the house
Or to New Brunswick
To get a drink.
After I stroked her arm
and when she accepted that
it gave me permission
to move in a little closer.
I couldn’t hear the highway after that.
The only sound I heard was the rain hitting
The grass in the field out back and
Each swing and awkward movement
that came from the hammock.

untitled

If you’re a writer and the object
Of your affection can not be
Described in words
Maybe its time
That you find
A new occupation

effective immediately

i have to delete the the label and go through all the tombs of every walking bit of english to make the correction...otherwise know as time consuming
...and i will, because i care.

i apologise, it must have been the wine
or quite possibly the dawn outside
or my strange selective dyslexic eyes

or a combination
other than it's flaws,
how do you enjoy the new view?

my nose wiggles
glad to see your posties again
dear sf Saint and jersey friend

and even through all the absurd circus shit,
bowties and violins,
that follow in the wake
a maddhares presence tends to create

I hope you enjoyed your trip
because I know of someone who sure enjoyed seeing yer face
no matter how serious it may have been ;o)

remember your dorkdom children
and tell me of yer raw glories
where the vice swings you in it's grip
where you're completely out of yer skin
strange and free
strange regardless


...strange and free



i can't believe you went as far as the space?!....

Choosing between confusions

Because I refuse to acknowledge death
I will write instead
Of unrequited love
Because while there is no hope
For the living
In death
There is always hope in love
Unanswered or otherwise

Sweetly frustrating
An engaging diversion
Some kind of awkward dance

Not like the dirge that should distract me now
That I will not hear
For I am not ready
Nor will I ever be

I don't want you to love me
I just want you to keep me guessing

Montana

life in animation
veins thick with bourbon
taking what comes as it does
jubilant and stuttering
created to please
wide smiles and a jaw cut strong with satisfaction
to walk every road as a king
jingling in jesters shoes

cigarettes
your clothes
my floor
lover, we've been here before
talking these walking riddles
wasting time with each breath
and calculated movements
pawns placed
wondering how many you'll sacrifice
to keep your heart
just out of reach

...the bearskin rug and a forbidden corset by candle light...a third shot at midnight...someone is employed to reline our souls blind with drawn curtains every time...to recess constantly...to be still and foresee...to be humbled by weather patterns and micro climates...to dream of manual shift...to recall every passing moment...passing on....

salem

it's stale in here
and all i can smell is feet
that feeling where your stomache
bends inside itself
i'm tip-toeing around half empties
whiskey, gin, light beer
everything's cheap and broken
the sun refuses to rise
Hunter S. Thompson
strewn around the bedside
and my mind is sleeping
my eyes can't close
that feeling where your stomache
bends inside itself
soon we'll be driving

Clenching

Gravity swung upwards
and knocked me on my ass
So there you stood laughing
until I showed you I was bleeding
Just blood
When we come back here
I'm not staying
I'm getting my shit and I'm out
I can't swallow these razors anymore
Promises
Vulgarity
Malevolence
I'm made of glass
Cool to the touch
but when I Break hot and scattered
the cuts are yours

No.

It’s a flick click and boom
The way that glass bulges like bubble gum
And wires snap and blaze
And the classical symphony fucks rock and roll
In the sparks that fall

That’s Revolution baby
That’s when we’ll be dancing

It’s a reckless hopeless romance
Walking smiling over broken glass
And it’s a feeling you just can’t hope to have
Without giving it all away

But its not martyrdom
No.
no
It’s something else entirely

It’s the salty sticky way to live
It’s the rough and tender ways of life
IT’S A JOYFUL NOISE!

Well that’s just revolution baby
And that’s when well be dancing

i'm gonna paint you a faded yellow brown
yeah like nicotine photographs of love below sea level
roll outta bed to find routine indigestion
i'm a trip in the wind child
everything endless

i've called your attention to the stains on my shirt babe to prove once again i've been up to no good
missing you at the end of the begining of your flight
i'm restless burning diesel and panama grey

correct me if i'm right cause i'm stolen broken bruised
and my shattered little dream boat bottoms out around the edges
but i'm trying kid
i'm trying not to get too far from me to get away from you

lonley night rediculous i'm perfect pictures carved in mud
you held my hand through bitterness and now you run the roads....

still theres dirt beneith my finger nails and modesty to boot
i'm alergic to the upperclass and radio sounds like shit to me
so theres hope for all that revolution and stale beer lipstick i miss in the night when i'm callng collect from the 7-11 i used to sleep behind.....

For Aim

...just thought, big sis
you'd like to know
that yer lil sister rabbit friend
has taken up residence
within wildlife refugees plots of land
and oh the (w)hole she has dug
that sanctuary for the hare-ist ones
adorns the name lakewood
so you have moved
as I have too
through many moons
and back around
we remain the same
in name and town

untitled

I've slept
in this bed
on this floor
more times
than my own
yet tonight
I feel
out of place
I don't belong here
anymore

I lie
in your arms
with the drift of unfamiliar
old purfume
seeping out
of the sheets
between us
trying to
hold on
but our fingers
only
lightly touch

the ceiling light
once dull
now
brightens the room
the floor
the bed
it
hurts my eyes

maybe
I just don't want to see the truth

April 15th this year, driving back to the valley from the bay

highway west 80
Sunday
the 3hr drive home
Saint Steven on the radio
and all today is
satellite broadcasts
trough little electric
streams of forever
the serious radio sings not fade away
and back into Saint Steven
as you suffer through
another attack of yer heart
your heavy cough
getting the better of you
I hold the wheel while you choke

It's a beautiful day
not to be driving away
from that bayside beauty
of life in techni-color dream visions
where the streets sing
and throughout the avenues smells
of tea stink and delicacies
from every country in America
and all the Americas!
lands of far far worlds of countries...

Oh this lovely!
forces you to exert yerself beyond yerself
pushed, willed
up over each dip and hill
excites the nerves
and flows blood proper
wakes you up, leaves you light headed
(and Oh the veiw lord! Forever blocks and to the bay and on on on into the endless ever everything!)
and burning throughout
the sting and snap throwback double-step
down trek, steep speed walk
the well deserved effortless decline

Oh lady SanFrisco
your life and laugh about the days and nights

Oh dear cultured maiden
you've stolen my heart
cleaned out my pockets
left me weak and broke and beautiful in light

Oh bayside beauty
how i will yearn for you
and curse I do
for even through
every attempted excuse
you have won
and just one day gone,
i feel your absence

you whom I love
I have fallen

Liz!!!
Great job... the site looks awesome!
But um.. I can't seem to view any of my comments.
~Librarian

Alright kiddies....

....I've spent an intense amount of time tooling over our sweet little blog here, super vamping it out and here's how yall can work the whole labeling thing so that when you post it will will be stored under your name....

1. Write yer post
2. Use yer eyeballs to look down the page and locate (in the pinkish bar right below the writing space) "Labels for this post:"
3. Click the blue "Show all" thinger
4. Choose yer label from the list that will magically appear (you have the option of multiple labeling)

...it's a slice of delicious cake and just as easy to ENJOY!!!

a poem on memories held with magic fingers

yes
from time to time i do
think back to the night wrapped around us like a seductive blindfold
and footprints left in extinguished dust on staircases leading always into the early morning bruise
blue and purple hues threatening, eyes swollen from straining the black tea night, smoke and sweat
you at my side obscured in doorways
the fire alarm fuss trampling about in front of us
I might have stood pool que still in hand
your fingers left lingering on the keys upstairs
Drawn close together by the cold
in simultaneous shiver as that instant froze
I just happen, in mid conversation, to look up to you the exact same moment you lean down into me
our lips meet sweet and soft in the middle
innocent and respectable
cosmically intense and completely unforgettable
and it caught my heart the way those little things do
even after all the edges of memory
are torn and worn to fade out fuzzy
through all the landscape and weather between us,
that you do too
think back from time to time

Moon Blue (thoughts passing on a train to Frisco)

June 1st, this year



I don't by anything
nothing bought
no money, only enough for there and back and booze and music with friends I call family
worked iron over the moon over Martinez
cloud wisps over the moon,
full moon over the industry over the industrial water moving like mercury through the industrial being,
rippling and shimmering hard and violent
and full

Marvelous Martinez!
the conductor proclaims
over loudspeaker buzz and transient noise
the moon hanging full fat bellied out the window
and my stomach slacking
(I don't by anything)
rumbling with the traincar over the tracks
full car
full moon
full mind
full pen
full industry
stomach empty
and waiting
to be full
of drink and laughter
in full Frisco
under moon blue
and full

westless slumbers

in-between early awakening and back into afternoon napping...I dreamed of roaming Frankenstein and secret personal missions protecting farm animals, of hiding and agents in black suits tight tied, and peril and the smell of musty wood...moss growing upside down in splintered sunlit groves

...giving

shattered pieces of soul slowly pushing sharp and painful
to the outer folds of this skin leaving red roaring rivers cut in throughout and knowing that when they reach the surface the sun will reflect off those pieces blinding for instants only, making the seen and the seeing wide eyed and willing the soft touch of comfort and true meaning left thinking.....my god! and oh holy! Was it ever really real?...did you feel the electric air and taste the honey thick loving oozing from those open wounds as life keeps beating and beating like hearts and abuse and too much time spent prying eyes open with toothpicks....did you see it too? tell me please for I seek no fooly mirage beauty wavering my subconscious life walk astray! Did you see it! Did it rip you open raw and exposed in your naked child minds for whole colosseums of of seers to view...has it shown to you your pain yet? That stomach ache and rush of heat blushing, contorted facial expressions, shoulder tension....Did that light smack you in the face then hold yer head and stroke your hair as you cried....Did you feel it?....I think it was the truth...

June the 4th 2007

Drugs
She said
And stormed away
That little girl
Who grew and grew
Into a little girl

Hallelujahs in the dark and rain

Let us be religious
And hallelujah the night away sadly
Telling stories of the horrible things we’ve done in the dark
Slowly forgiving each other
Because it ain’t no use to sit and wonder why babe
Well at least I heard that from a wise man once

They’re few and far between as I understand

Those wise men
Are you one?

a good contract

For so long I faltered
Then signed my life to this
And now I watch them falter
And I see the tops of trees in the rain
And I think
Of clucking old women
Or the fates discussing
And know
My good luck comes from the misfortunes of others

And and and

Love is a street light at a distance
And the road is rained upon and slick
And you do the things you do for it
Friends eat you alive
And lovers lay in wait to hurt you
And you loose your senses in the waking dream
And hold yourself up with the crutches you find
Young one day
But not the next

And it will turn without you
This ball
This silly ball
With all it holds
The friends there, the lovers lying in wait
And the cold and lonely
Only part briefly
And while it parts
The crutches hold

dream of love #1

dream of love
like flash photography

blinding
and moment
frozen in
time