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PostPosted: Thu Sep 29, 2005 5:55 am 
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Yeah Yeah Yeah
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Joined: Tue Nov 23, 2004 1:36 am
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Location: Left field
I'll be posting on here a lot in the coming weeks, as I'm really getting into my poetry class, the teacher is one of the good ones.


Turning the pages


I am a book,

With dog eared pages,
In reminisce of,
Long nights, bright,
Laughter and warm embraces

With a plot, still
Shifting from a walk
On fault lines of
Failed relationships

A dozen creases,
As deep as canyons,
Of rich, brown earth, cover,
Each side

And the corners,
Dilapidated like,
a fraying, loose rope
Could use a handle

A mystery, masquerading
In fables of adventure

These chapters write,
As life ripens,
From a callow, green
To a mature red

And the ending like a Chekhov,
Tale remains untold,

Paperback or hardcover,
That is up to the writer.

-JW

_________________
seen it all, not at all
can't defend fucked up man
take me a for a ride before we leave...

Rise. Life is in motion...

don't it make you smile?
don't it make you smile?
when the sun don't shine? (shine at all)
don't it make you smile?

RIP


Last edited by jwfocker on Thu Sep 29, 2005 2:09 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Thu Sep 29, 2005 11:17 am 
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Location: England
You don't need a comma after like.

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Play Brain of J, 0/30...


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PostPosted: Thu Sep 29, 2005 2:02 pm 
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Joined: Tue Nov 23, 2004 1:36 am
Posts: 5458
Location: Left field
Very true, I have a tendency to get a bit comma happy.

_________________
seen it all, not at all
can't defend fucked up man
take me a for a ride before we leave...

Rise. Life is in motion...

don't it make you smile?
don't it make you smile?
when the sun don't shine? (shine at all)
don't it make you smile?

RIP


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PostPosted: Fri Sep 30, 2005 5:56 am 
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Joined: Sun Oct 17, 2004 10:08 pm
Posts: 1467
Location: Sarasota, Florida
Gender: Male
I'm really done (take two)
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Blogging


You know, for as much as I love singing and karaoke, I think I'm really done with it. There's just too much drama with it as I'm experiencing. You've got jockeys who intentionally or not play favorites. You've got bartenders and waitresses that pay half-attention to a fool like me just getting food and soft drinks. You've got at least one "bouncer" who feels its his duty to hate you for having fun. It's just old to me and worse than high school.

I love it and hate it all at once. Maybe I shouldn't say I'm done for good, but I seriously need a break from the scene. When I got accosted and told to "calm the fuck down" and that it was my last warning, I think I have a reasonable perspective in my view. I don't drink. I don't start fights. I'm pretty agreeable with everyone. I don't judge. I may say things in jest or short, little political diatribes (like instantenous changes to more timely lyrics), but it's nothing that I wouldn't talk about in a more serious manner or apologize about if I offended anyone. I am willing to change certain things, but the moment that I get accosted for having fun and marginally goofing off, I'm kind of done with it. I just live in an uptight, condescending world of others anymore that get angry and judgmental the moment something steps out of what they view to be the norm. And honestly, I'm sick of it. I need a break and some rethinking about how I need to be with these people. I feel like the rebirth is going to be singing sappy and sad songs from here on out in front of these judgmental people because then they'll be "happy" and unchallenged. I'll have my times to goof off and rock out, but these people have pushed me to the brink. If they want me to be serious, I can be so damn serious they'd pray for a return of the more comedic me. I do have the blues and man, I'd love to sing 'em.

So for now, I need a break. I need a serious break. And I need to stick to it. I've got my mom to take care of as she's seriously recovering from her recent elective operation (I just about lost it after seeing her today -- the tears were coming, I tell you.) I've got to go to God and deal with some things. And I need my heart and demeanor to be fixed. I'll admit to anyone who cares something. I'm lonely. I'm brokenhearted. I'm confused about my purpose. I'm confused about this life. Some days I think I'll be marriage material. On other days I'm absolutely convinced that I'm to die in a war unwedded. Some days I think I'm kidding myself into not teaching younger folk and helping with child-rearing. On other days I think working toward becoming a pharmacist should be the path. Some days I think about working a peace corps and giving up all possessions. It's just a crazy, random chaos in my mind and I feel so lost and alone sometimes. As I write it all down, it becomes clear to me. I live really well when I'm busy, but the moment you get me to think about what's really going on, I realize I'm terrified to deal with all of it. I know God loves me and has a path for me, but I really wish He would just finally cave and give me the direction and ending because I'm exhausting myself silly from all of this worldly wandering.

Please break me, Father. Break me free again. Bring me home, Dad.

God bless,

Jared

_________________
So it's Barack Obama now? Good luck.


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PostPosted: Mon Oct 03, 2005 12:15 pm 
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To see in time
A light through a window
You never notice is there.

To be in a moment
But out of the mind
And off--merely a stare.

How long can a moment endure?
Is there ever any more than one?
How difficult it must be
To speak of what the future has in store
When the present even has stepped
Behind the Sun.

In this moment, this breath, yes, right now
This piece, or blink, of an hour
Is somehow a relic
To be dug up again only in memory.

Cemented in eternity
She lives on as the echo of time.
She dances only once,
It comes in the encore,
And we wonder, and we think
And we forget
To remember
What it all was for.

To look, to watch
My own body betray me
And yet, I hold no grudge.
My very leg
That wobbles now
With a fading vitality
Is not even my own anymore
And I wonder when it ever was?

I am the ghost that haunts my own body.
The very one I will leave
To die, to rot, to bury
In a distant 'now'
One night
All in a hurry.

I am the me you see in the mirror.
I have the only face I could.
I examine the end-
It is a vision of the future,
And all the while one of the past.
It came before the first creation
And it continues
After the last.

That is the only way to put it.
Words, like walls, only limit
Time and the space we have to give it
In our personal era.

If I could hold a certain pose now
And copy it forever
I would be the only me
I could see living together
With everything else in time and space
Though they no longer exist
For the land of eternity has no weather--
Everything has escaped the mist
And rain and change and pain
And growth and failure that ends and withers
Has given way, has died to the mystery
That cloaks the beginning and the end perfectly.

Then, right then, there is no separation.
Unity is only a disguise for reality.
Never a word spoken, nor a sound heard
Never a heart broken, or one stirred.
Like a silent cry, with intensity that drives
Its own life forward.
Love and love and love--
The only being there ever was
Being, all being, is Love.

One breath, one sigh
One voice on the horizon.
And she screams out finally
After a history that tried to silence her
An illusory reaction that could only melt
As Love herself covered
Even this murmuring, scared dust--
As Love, with her breath,
Brushes off and adores
These pulsating ashes of her own fire.


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PostPosted: Mon Oct 03, 2005 12:21 pm 
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Wave Song

Let me die in you
Let me die in you
Let me die in you
Let me die in you

Push me over… pull me deeper
My tears flowing… into your tears
Carve the stone with your all-enduring force
Don’t wash my heart out… although I wouldn’t mind if it was yours

Let me die in you
Let me die in you
Let me die in you
Let me die in you

Call me angel… your love will prove you true
As I slowly glide towards the eternal blackness
When there is no light… can I still see inwards?
Nothing of that seems to matter facing your endless blue

Let me die in you
Let me die in you
Let me die in you
Let me die in you

_________________
I will pull your crooked teeth, you'll be toothless just like me


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon Oct 03, 2005 5:43 pm 
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Joined: Tue Nov 23, 2004 1:36 am
Posts: 5458
Location: Left field
Anderson on Court

Your fingers, once long and thin,
Brimming with youthful days of
Hook shots, and backyard games,
Holding within them, under
Dark skin, the veins of a vast,
Limitless, river delta


Now they rest on cold concrete,
Dulled and listless, like Pillows,
Languidly under your head,
As you recall distant halcyon days
While the rising moons Luminous,
White light seeps in, Enveloping,
Your tall, angular figure,

If unprovoked would they still dance?
Would they sculpt one last masterpiece?

-JW

_________________
seen it all, not at all
can't defend fucked up man
take me a for a ride before we leave...

Rise. Life is in motion...

don't it make you smile?
don't it make you smile?
when the sun don't shine? (shine at all)
don't it make you smile?

RIP


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon Oct 03, 2005 7:24 pm 
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Yeah Yeah Yeah
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Joined: Tue Nov 23, 2004 1:36 am
Posts: 5458
Location: Left field
Ahlee Simpson, A journal of a faux musician

I sang a couple of lines in the studio today,
In a high, shrill, voice,
Like a banshee of Irish Mythology,
My producer, an old, round man with angry eyes,
Quickly came out and stopped me though,
He was shaking his fist like an angry tyrant,
That had lost the last lands of his empire,
And his face had turned a complete red,
Like a large tomato.

He wanted to know why I would waste,
The studios time, since I simply lip-synched,
I told him that I was merely attempting
To reflect my teenage angst, then he proceeded
To tell me, that I wasn’t even a teenager,
The nerve of this man, like I don’t know my age,
He then said that I couldn’t sing to an audience,
Even if it was at a deaf convention, well you know,
What, I began; I don’t even write my own material,
And it’s not my fault that everything I put down,
On paper, gets returned to me with a large, “not this time,”
Written across it in red ink. And so now I lay on this,
Couch, curled up under a blanket, watching the television,
As I anticipate the next episode of my show, while I take,
Time out to field calls about my new album and attempt,
To write my first song. Just between this journal and me,
I’m beginning to wonder how that Dylan guy wrote his own songs.


-jw

_________________
seen it all, not at all
can't defend fucked up man
take me a for a ride before we leave...

Rise. Life is in motion...

don't it make you smile?
don't it make you smile?
when the sun don't shine? (shine at all)
don't it make you smile?

RIP


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PostPosted: Tue Oct 04, 2005 6:30 pm 
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Posts: 8910
Location: Santa Cruz
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With the addition of the release forum, this thread will be locked, but kept as an archive.


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