Like the Razing

They used

the same pill

to start

the contractions -

you remember -

but this time

the dosage

is much higher

and you imagine

more than feel

as a terrible fire

burns through you,

laying waste,

like the razing

of a field

of corn

after the last

harvest.

Happy Halloween Everyone!

1/2 Marathon Man

4th over all - 1st in my age group

An odd 1/2 marathon because it was 13.7 miles.

A tough 1/2 marathon as it had 4,000 feet of elevation change.

But I'm very happy with my result.

Next up: Turkey Trot 10k!

NASA Did What?

When I proposed

crashing

a probe

into her moon,

I was informed

that the funding

had dried up.

Dad Ain't No Engineer

My son (age 7) asked me to make him a paper airplane, which I did.

He launched it into the rare air of our living room, watching as its maiden flight failed miserably.

Dad, it fell like a dead moth.

Couldn't have said it better myself. The kid is a poet at age 7.

How proud is Dad?

Very.

As to the lack of paper airplane making skills? Meh. I can live with that.

quotation time

It augers well for the world that it will refuse to believe that in death endeth loveliness.

-- Jack Kerouac

Something to think about

Poetry is a bird. Prose is a potato.
- Billy Collins

I've Honestly Never Tried

My son told me this morning that I'm strong enough to carry the refrigerator...

Maybe he's right.

091609

My hour is almost come,
When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames
Must render up myself.

Pass The Ammo

The despondency fairy keeps rapping at my window.

So far I have resisted the urge to invite her in,
serve her a sweating glass of unsweetened iced tea.

But my resolve is a sandcastle.

She is lovely,
but I can see
those canines,
polished white
from cleaning
all the meat
off the bone.

The Half

Ran a half marathon on Saturday. Temperature was high (it hit 103 later in the day) and the course was very hilly (total elevation change was 2848 ft), but I did well.

2:13:34

That was good enough for 7th place. 2nd in my age group (the overall winner was also in my age group, he beat me by 34 minutes)

It was fun, but tough. I'm going back next year...and hoping for cooler temps!

Please Read

Please read this review.

And then consider buying the book.

Please Hold.

Please hold while we attempt to find the mobile subscriber you are attempting to reach...

Did You Feel That?

Wow, pretty good quake out here. Shook me quite a bit.

Makes you wonder what the long term effects of a little shift will be, for surely when the earth shakes like that it must push you off your intended path at least a little. What little coincedences will arise from that little shove that will permenantly alter your life's path?

None?

That's what you think...

The End of the Weekend has Come

Back from a wonderful weekend spent in Michigan meeting up with friends I haven't seen in a long while. One of whom I see fairly regularly and in fact saw last summer, another I last saw at my wedding (2001) and several others I haven't seen since the early 90's.

But the prize winner was a friend I haven't seen since 1989.

Yep, 1989. A half-life ago.

I was born in 1969. It is now 2009.

It boggles the mind.

I can't even begin to relate all the fantastic stuff that happened over the weekend and you wouldn't believe me if I told you.

Suffice to say: Best. Weekend. Ever.

Bones Review

Have you seen this yet?

- CLICK ME! -

A Spanking Good Review

Just got wind of this review of nibble.

CHECK IT OUT!

Fried Oreos

Did you know?

One fried Oreo has:

100 Calories

6g of Fat

1g of Sat. Fat

8mg of Cholesterol

Seriously, that's not so bad and the calorie-to-deliciousness ratio is pretty damn good!

Best Weekend Ever? Part III, Sunday

Since the kids didn't get to bed until after 11pm the night before (see previous post), we had another late morning. I didn't get out of the house for my run until almost 9am.

Again, didn't leave the house until after lunch...and a late lunch at that.

Took the kids to the Lawrence Hall of Science on the campus of UC Berkeley. A very cool museum the kids really dig. The highlight (at least for me, I think for the kids as well) was the small animal room. Most people visit the hall and never find this little room just bursting with little critters. It's in the basement, down a long, seemingly endless corridor, but totally worth the trouble. If you ever go, don't miss this room.

In the span of about 20 minutes, we got to pet a chinchilla, a tarantula AND a corn snake. The kids finally agreed with me that a snake would be a cool pet and I think we might be making a trip to the East Bay Vivarium this coming weekend. (Heck, we already have a 20 gallon fish tank gathering dust in the garage that would be perfect. Snakes only eat once every 10-14 days. Super easy pet!)

Then, after a snack, it was off to the Animal Grossogoly exhibit: "Enter the world of the gross: a larger-than-life adventure that will require all your senses—including humor. It’s a whole-body experience that brings to life the gritty, engrossing facts behind—well, behinds, and other animal body parts."

Yes, lots of displays about animal poop and other slimy grossness. Obviously the kids love this stuff. Having seen this exhibit about nine times, I was less than engrossed. Took the time to make a couple phone calls and play a little Texas Hold 'Em on my cell phone.

Then home again to another incredible meal off the grill. A couple recipes out of the "Boy Meets Grill" cookbook, a father's day gift. Alice has been trying for years to get me interested in cooking, to no avail, but the grill adds a whole new element and I have to admit that I'm getting into it. Perhaps something to do with cooking over an open flame in the out-of-doors. Well, at least outside of the kitchen.

Plus, when you're grilling, it's pretty much required that you have a beer in your hand. Open flame, grilling animal flesh, beer...tough combination to resist, really.

I don't know, but I think I see a tradition emerging here: Friday at the Fair, Saturday at the Fireworks in Moraga and lot's of meals off the grill.

Yes indeed.

Best Weekend Ever? Part II, Saturday

Well, as expected we woke with a bit of a fair hangover on Saturday (see previous post). Lazy morning for the most part. Didn't get moving until late morning, didn't get out of the house until after lunch. And then did nothing worth writing about. Until dinner, that is.

For once, we decided to eat dinner at home. What's on the menu? Grilled pizza.

Yep.

Pizza cooked on the grill. Oh man, makes me wonder what we were doing wasting time with that stupid oven. Everything really is better when it comes off the grill. It's true.

Then it was off to watch the fireworks in Moraga. We did this last year, drove to Moraga, the town park or square or some such thing...it was packed, tons of people there. We set up our blankets, our chairs and...

...watched the fireworks that were at least 1/2 mile away and slightly obscured by a tree. AND! AND it took us two frickin' hours to get our of Moraga! Small town + tons of people = major traffic snafu.

But not this year. This year we camped out at the local golf course. Maybe 300 yards from the launch point of the fireworks. The things were literally bursting over our heads. It was incredible.

At one point, a firework exploded on the ground. Not only did we see it go off, we could see the little brushfire that it ignited. My six year-old said, "Well, even professionals make mistakes!"

Nice.

He was a little Howard Cosell, giving us the color commentary all through the show. And like all good reporters, he spoke in a very loud voice so that he could be heard over all the booming and the oooo-ing and ahhhhh-ing.

Along with the gem about mistakes, the best comment was probably this one, given in response to a huge, very high firework that exploded in long golden tendrils:

"It looks like long fingers...like God is attacking us!"

Priceless.

It was a great show. We all agreed that we should do it again next year, to which Cameron added: "We should come here EVERY year."

And it only took us 25 minutes to get out of town!

Best Weekend Ever? - Part I, Friday

I don't know, but it was pretty damn good.

I mean, any weekend that starts off with a holiday from work on a FRIDAY is set to be pretty darn good, right?

So, instead of going to work, we went to the Alameda County Fair. I would have to say that's like looking at an 8 hour plane flight in coach, but then they bump you up to first class and then just as you are about to get on the plane they bump you up to teleportation and BAM! you're already there.

Then we get to the fair and kids are free on Fridays! Ok, that's pretty sweet. So we do all the fair things that you have to do: we watch the miniature dog races, the kids go on some rides, we pay money to throw darts at balloons to "win" prizes we could have gotten at Target for about 1/3 the price, we watch the horse racing (just caught the last race of the day), we eat food on a stick: chicken for me, beef for Alice and Shrimp for Cameron. Henry declares that he is not hungry, but he polishes off 1/2 a brick of fries. (Yes, a "brick" of fries, literally a brick shaped mass of fries, only this would have been the biggest brick I'd ever seen in my life). Next, of course, is dessert. But there are WAY too many choices. Cameron goes with the classic: vanilla soft serve in a cone. Henry and Alice split, but fail to finish, a funnel cake. I can't resist the idea of a fried Oreo. Four for $4. And a bargain at that price. I ate two. Alice ate a half and Henry had a little bite. Cameron was too stuffed from his soft serve to try either the funnel cake or the Oreos and he officially wins the "smartest person in the family" award for the day.

In the background we can just barely hear Night Ranger playing their 6pm set. Anybody remember Night Ranger? I do, but can't remember any of their songs. Maybe I'll Google it...nah.

So then, when we can move again, it's off to see the animals! Cows and pigs and goats and sheep as far as the eye can see. We even found our neighborhood 4-H club and their pigs. Man, pigs stink. Seriously. Sheep and goats not so much, but pigs? Whoo-weee. Stink.

Then the kids, who've waited patiently for their "souvenirs" can wait no longer. So we stop by a little row of shops and they pick out some junk that under normal circumstances I wouldn't let them have at any cost, but it's the fair. You go for it, right?

By this time, the kids are exhausted. Time for one more thing. The Ferris wheel of course. What a wonderful way to finish the day. Whizzing through the gathering dusk, looking out over the midway and the entire fair!

Have Ferris wheels always been so fast? Seemed to be whipping around at a pretty good clip. Anyway...

That was the fair. 7 hours of overpriced fun that you just gotta have once a year. Just once. Too much time at the fair the polish begins to fade, reality creeps in a little too close and it could get ugly.

But one day? Perfect!

Almost forgot one of the best parts: got up early and went for an hour long run! Great way to start the weekend. Plus, I knew there would be some hefty calories coming...

Wow, this post is getting long.

More later.

July 23rd

Could someone please wake me when it's the third week in July?

You see...I'm going on vacation and I don't want to forget to pack. But I'd like to sorta FF the days in between NOW and THEN, if you know what I mean. The kind of FF were you can still see the picture and you can stop the movie and watch the good parts, but you don't have to wait through the boring bits...like, I don't know, WORK!

Ok. Here we go. It's too early to really pack, so I'll just pack virtually:

Swimsuit? Check.

Sunscreen? Check.

Flip flops? Check.

Snorkel and Mask? Snorkel and Mask? Damn, where the hell is that thing? I'll have to find it later. Somewhere in the depths of the garage, I bet!

Umbrella...umbrella? Yep, I'm going to Michigan and it could be 100 degrees or it could be 60 and raining. Let's hope for sun.

Running Shoes (you bet your ass I'm gonna run!)? Check.

Anything else?

Hmm...toothbrush would be good, toothpaste of course, clean undies...something to write with and something to write on...maybe a book or two, my i-pod...sunglasses (let's HOPE I need them)...what else, what else...

Duh! A towel. You never travel without a towel.

There was one more thing.

I know I'm forgetting something...

"Taking our 8th Bite!"

Time to order up some nibble.

I Need Your Help

Somebody needs to email me or hit me on Facebook, cuz I think I might be missing something.

What is the subject of my consternation?

The one-armed hug.

What's up with this? I keep getting these things and, don't get me wrong, I love getting hugs, but I don't understand why people do this.

Reluctance to commit? Body odor?

Or is it "I like you" but not "I love you?"

Seriously, I don't get this.

Am I committing some horrible social faux pas by using both arms?

Are You Freaking Kidding Me?!?!

We have guests from out of town (Vietnam, in case you were wondering) staying at the fancy Claremont Resort and Spa in Berkeley. Today, they invited us to come to the pool with them.

Cool! A luxury resort and spa with a very nice pool AND a little kiddie pool with a little kiddie water slide. Even a hot tub.

I was stuck at work, but hey that's ok. My kids will have a blast with their cousin, splishin' and splashin'.

Well, guess what?

As a guest, to visit the pool?

$25 for an adult. $15 for a kid.

Whahaha....

Pardon me whilst I retrieve my jaw from the marbled floor of your foyer.

Yep, cost us $55 for my wife and my two kids to "hang by the pool" for 45 minutes.

Fifty-five.

Dollars.

Forty-five.

Minutes.

More than a dollar a minute. One dollar for less than 60 seconds at a pool.

A big concrete hole filled with water. That's two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen.

Two of the more common elements on our planet. One of the most common compounds on Earth.

Our very bodies are mostly made of this stuff.

I'm really not seeing where I'm getting anywhere near my money's worth. In fact, I think I hear my money screaming to me from their, no doubt, fur lined pockets.

And what is it saying?

"Help! We've been kidnapped!"

"Yes," I say in reply, "and I've been raped."

Unfuckingbelievable.

My Poetry at Xenith

Click Here

My New Favorite Blog

Poet Hound

School Assignment: Write About Your Town

I love Oakland because really friendly people live in Oakland. Here in
Oakland, there are lots of fun places to go. Like swimming pools, playgrounds,
trails for hiking, lakes for fishing, and fun mountains to climb!

- Cameron (age 6)

Walking

Beautiful day today.

Sunny. Warm. Once the fog burned off, that is.

So, after a lovely 5 minute walk, I'm at the gym climbing onto some sort of modern day torture device that's going to nuke those love handles and power up my aging ticker. Lot's of folks at the Y today, trying to get fit or get ready for swimsuit season or whatever.

I look over to my left and see some folks walking on treadmills.

Good for them, I think. They're here, they're making the effort, they're doing it!

Wait a minute.

They're inside, on a beautiful day, WALKING on a treadmill. Walking. Walking?

The Y I go to is probably less than 10 minutes WALKING from a beautiful lake in a park like setting with a lovely WALKING path all the way around.

The sun is shining, it's warm and you're WALKING on a treadmill. INSIDE.

Damn.

Ok.

Inspiration

Have you ever been really inspired by someone, I mean REALLY inspired, to the point where not only do they make you want to be even better at what you do, but they validate what you have done up to the point you discovered them or their work?

Yeah?

Me too.

You ever go back and reread or reexamine the work that inspired and validated your own and then found that same spark was no longer there? In fact, the work almost left you feeling a little bored? A little disappointed?

You still see what it was that had you so captivated "back then," but now....meh, not so much? Like you've moved on, not past them because, hey, they're brilliant, but your tastes have moved on...evolved?

Yeah?

Me too.

Kind of a bummer.

A Poem for 052809

A Necklace of Bees

I feel like
mourning black
should drap
my frame,
fill my closet,

for the death
(and could it
be described
in any other way?)
of the past
that wasn't,

or couldn't be,

hangs around
my neck
like bees
strung on a line,
still buzzing,
still angry

and in a moment
I will walk again
through the real
front door
not the one
in my head,
in the past
that never was
or the present
that isn't,

just mist
and shadows
filling the rooms
of my mind

and I'm angry
like the bees,

and we are stinging

and I'm smiling
like I did
so long ago

and the silt
at the bottom
of this lake
has been stirred
up, obscurring
something,

something
that I can feel
if I reach down

and now that
i've found it
again

now that I'm
touching it
again

i'm not
going
to let go

Going Home

So, I'm planning a trip back to Rochester, Michigan, where I was born. I lived there until I was 18 and then went off to college. I continued to come back in the summer and for various other holidays and weekends (I had a girlfriend at the time who was in Rochester while I was in East Lansing, so there was a fair amount of back and forth during my freshman year!).

Anyway, I haven't been back to Rochester since 1992. Yep, 1992.

I haven't set foot in Michigan since 1994. Yep, 15 years.

While I am there, I plan to hang out with old college and high school friends, most of whom I have not seen since I left.

I have booked my plane ticket, the plans for the weekend are slowly coming together and I have to say that my excitement for this trip is pretty much off the scale. I'm much more excited than I thought I would be.

Perhaps this is some sort of mid-life crisis of nostalgia? Could this be my little red sports car?

Maybe. Maybe not.

But I can tell you this: I sure hope those people have not aged into major douchebags.

That would suck.

I mean, I'm exactly the same, right?

Great Day To Go To The Beach

If you live in Northern California, yesterday was a great day to go to the beach.

Sunny, slight breeze coming in off the Bay and it was about 65 degrees. Adults are wearing long sleeve shirts and kids are playing in the water...which, to an adult is freaking freezing, but to a six year-old or four year-old seems absolutely perfect.

You should have seen the amazing, "indestructible" sand house with three reinforced sand and seaweed seawalls.

Truly a wonder of modern architecture!

Use The Damn Tunnel

Funny thing about the Bay Area, if you drive from Oakland through the tunnel on Highway 24 (headed toward Walnut Creek) the weather generally gets warmer.

Well, we drove through the tunnel today and BINGO, fifteen degrees warmer and sunny.

Brilliant.

Had a fantastic day climbing around on the giant boulders in Rock City. Climbed to the top of Sentinel rock and had a panoramic view of Mt. Diablo State Park and the surrounding area. Then we drove to the top of Mt. Diablo (3800-ish feet). On a clear day you can see all the way to Half-Dome (135 miles away), though not today.

Sweet day.

The kids had a ball clamoring around on big rocks, and mom and dad got a taste of the kind of fear that only a parent would understand.

But...no blood, no broken bones and not one single fall. No one even slipped. The kids seem to have a healthy sense of fear and a general concern for their own well-being (thank gawd!).

They both want to go back tomorrow and climb and hike and explore.

Gracious!

Foggy, Windy, 50 Degrees

This three day, holiday weekend is supposed to be the unofficial beginning of summer, but it's foggy, windy and 50 degrees.

If this is summer, summer sucks.

I seem to have some memories of summer's past, when I was a kid, and I don't remember foggy, windy and 50 degrees.

Pretty sure I wouldn't have memories of swimming, canoeing, water balloon fights, endless games of basketball, soccer, touch football, etc. if it had been foggy, windy and 50 degrees.

What gives?

Who's the friggin' moron who ordered up this crap, anyway?

Oh Man.

So, I'm at the gym and I'm on the elliptical machine and they have these little TVs and I flip the thing on, start channel surfing. My choices are: a trio of 24-hour news channels, Martha Stewart, two ESPNs, several soap operas and Family Feud.

Ugh.

So I put the TV on channel 8, not really knowing what it is because they're at commercial.

Well, the show starts and I get Ty Pennington and his annoying crew on their way to do an Extreme Home Makeover. Inside of about two minutes, I'm all teary eyed because the family they are helping has a daughter who, at age 11 days (or some similarly insane age) had to have a heart transplant. Ok, I'm a sucker for these poor babies facing unreasonable challenges and coming through it.

What's my point? That ABC works really hard to pull your heart strings? That I was nearly crying on the elliptical machine in the middle of the YMCA on a Friday afternoon? That god is a bastard for putting a kid through all this?

I have no idea.

Five, Yes, Five.

I've had five people tell me they cried while reading the poetry in The Bones of Saints Under Glass.

Two said they cried while reading "The Other One Stopped." Two cried while reading "Swimming in Beauty and Light." And one cried while reading "Robots and Rivers."

Do you have any idea how good that feels? What that means to a poet?

I want to thank all five of them, truly, from the bottom of my thanking apparatus. I also want to thank everyone else who has bought a copy of Bones.

Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.

Another Good Day For A Poem

I Met a Girl Named Deluxe

she isn’t a stripper
though you might
not know it
just by reading
the curvesof her cover

she’s a stenographer
a word
I had to look
up, thinking
they were all
extinct

and a scientologist
which makes
me wonder
what it would take
to impress
her

she wears boots
that are perhaps
too high
for her profession
but all the judges
give her a pass

they are men

and her skin
such a mystifying
tone, her breasts
defy
both gravity
and logic

I met Deluxe
on a Friday

the 13th

she is the black
pussycat
crossing my path
to disastrous
result

Seriously.

How can  a movie called "X-Men Origins: Wolverine" be such a flaming pile of poo?

Looking Forward

How many people can honestly say they are living in the now? How many "living in the now" moments do you have in a day? In a week?

Most of the time we're busy looking forward to something. The next vacation...the end of the work day...that first beer of the night...the new DVD coming from Netflix. Something.

Or we're thinking about something that has already passed. Last night's great sex...a killer concert...the last vacation...that thing you said to your son that you really wished you hadn't said and would take back if you had a chance to relive that moment.

Hopes. Regrets. Joys. Heartbreaks.

Does the present even exist?

Have You?

Have you visited me on Facebook? Are we Facebook friends?

Hmm...ok.

Have you bought my book?

Why not? It's really easy. You just click on the amazing picture to your left. Yes, the one of the bird skeleton. That's the actual cover of my book, artwork by Hosho McCreesh (who is an amazing poet in his right).

You haven't bought it yet, have you?

Seriously? Why not?

I want you to send me an email and explain to me why you haven't bought my book yet.

nibblepoems@gmail.com

Go on. Go.

Go.

The Heat is On

The temperature shot up to the high eighties on Saturday and the low nineties on Sunday. As has been the case in years past, whatever it is I'm allergic to loves the freakin' heat. My allergies went ballistic over the weekend.

Another reason to be glad about work: air conditioning. Not only am I not uncomfortably hot and sweaty while at work, but my allergies are subdued under these artificially cool conditions.

Hurray for work! Hurray for work!

Yippee...

Thank you, Sir.

Hey Now, Jeff...

 

Really digging your new chap...Joie is too, I bought one for her too...amazing to see her kids taking a shine to particular pome tomes in your book...Joie is reading it aloud to them...her daughter's raving fave happens to be mine--The Youngest One Stopped.   I really dig Ratchet...charmingly reminds me of the old South Side of Chi Town relatives in the Old Neighborhood when I was a boy.  Swimming in Beauty and Light is a heartfelt gem.  Lots to really get into and dig dig dig in your new one.  Congrats.

 

Your Cohort in the Craft,

  Robert M. Zoschke

Thank you, Robert.  You are a poet and a scholar and a fine judge of talent (ahem).  The chap he is writing about is called The Bones of Saints Under Glass and you can get it HERE.

And if you buy Bones and Poieses you pay no additional shipping.  And Poieses is a massive tome of a magazine with something like 54 poets.  Read the review of this amazing book HERE (just scroll down about halfway).

 

The Pukes

Well, I was home the last two days with Cameron who had some sort of stomach bug. There was some vomiting: once at school, once in the bushes at Henry's school, and twice in the car.

In the car. That really stinks.

He's feeling a lot better now. Back to school this morning. Fingers crossed that Henry doesn't get it and knock wood that I don't get it. Maybe I'll cross a few toes for myself as well...

This morning, on the way to school, we had a conversation about all the different ways to say vomit. Here's what Cameron came up with:

vomit

throw up

Here's what I added to the...discussion:

puke

ralph

up chuck

I'm sure there are others, but that's all I could come up with in the moment.

Mother's Day

Well, I must say that Mother's Day can be an emotional challenge, but I find that focusing my mind and energy on the mother of my children (and my children) brings a lot of joy.

We had a great day today. Slept in until nearly 9am (if you have young kids, you understand how much of a joy that is) and had a leisurely morning: sitting on the deck reading the Sunday paper while the kids did their kid thing in the back yard. We went out for a late-ish brunch and had some wonderful Huevos Rancheros.

After brunch, we went to the California Museum of Oakland. They have a wonderful natural history floor with hundreds of examples of the flora and fauna of California. As my four year-old kept asking, are all these animals real? Yes, Henry, they are all real. Are they all dead? Yes, Henry, they are all dead.

Next up: Starbucks for a little pick-me-up for the adults (and the kids, too). Then it was over to "Bird Park" as my kids call it. Actually, the park at Lake Merritt. A little bird watching/lake staring and then over to the boat docks for a wonderful Mother's Day gondola ride. Thirty minutes of sitting in an authentic Venetian gondola, oared (is that right? oared?) by an authentic Venetian! Ah, like a limousine, only way more aquatic and relaxing and...did I already say wonderful? Our gondolier, sang three different songs (in Italian) and gave a us a quick history lesson of Venice all while steering the gondola with an impressive ease.

Did you know that Venice was a sovereign nation for over 1000 years? It was.

Then off to Pyramid Brewery for dinner and couple of Hefeweizen. Oh, man can they make a Hefeweizen! Then back home and (after a reasonable waiting period) some yoga.

Damn, that was a good day. Why can't they all be like that?

Have You Bought My Book Yet?

Why not?

<---- You can click on the picture to the left. Or you can click HERE

or HERE

or HERE

See how easy I made it for you? Now, what are you waiting for?


Seriously...don't make me come over THERE.

You Gotta Meet Her

Click on over to nibble and check out the interview with leah angstman (no, that's not a typo, she's all small letters!).

She is an amazingly brilliant artist and the brains and brawn of Propaganda Press, the most ass-kickular publisher in the small press universe.

Seriously.

Oh, and in case you hadn't noticed, she's one of my best buddies.

I Don't Believe in God

Well, I don't believe there's a white dude with a flowing beard standing up in the clouds keeping his baby blue eyes on us (more on that later, perhaps).

But, damn, thank god for kids and cats and drizzling rain and that perfect little buzz you get when you drink just enough alcohol, but not too much.

Ok, I said no more drunken posts, but I feel so damn good RIGHT NOW, I had to share.

And technically, I'm not even close to drunk...

It Rained the Whole Time

March 1, 2009
26.2 mi.
3h 40m 53s
1st Marathon

A Poem on the Internet

I know how you love to click stuff.

So, click this.

Ah, you gotta love work!

Of course, when I say that I mean you gotta love work when it's over.

Such a release.

Thank you, Work, for letting me go home. (So much more accommodating than prison...)

Ever Glad the Weekend is Over

Man, other than a few hours Saturday night spent in great conversation with a friend (you know who you are), this weekend was a house of horrors.

Locked inside (thank you rainy weather) with the kids, stuck running errands, everybody in the worst of moods. Lot's of temper trantrums and crying and whinning and arguing...ARGH...and the kids weren't so great either!

But, it's Monday (thank whomever) and the kids are at school (thank you Oakland Public Schools for watching my kid for free from 8:30 to 2:20) and I get to work...alone...by myself or at least with reasonable adults who have some level of self-control, right?

Oh, shit. Well, could it be worse than Sunday was? Hmm...yes. Yes, it could.

Okay, fingers crossed. I'm going in.

Ok. Seriously.

No more drinking and blogging.

Yeeesh...

It's Late

So if this doesn't make any sense...well...I'm not going to apologize.

1. Life is short, brother.

2. Fuck Nike, but, yeah, just do it.

3. Find a thing that you like and keep doing it.

4. Rules?  See number one.

5. I'm going to give it all I've got and if I can make myself happy even for five days...hell, five minutes...you know...I'm going to try.

6. If I know you, you matter to somebody.  Remember that.

The Weather Forecast:

TODAY: RAIN

SATURDAY: SHOWERS

SUNDAY: SHOWERS

MONDAY: SHOWERS

TUESDAY: SHOWERS

Rain? Fuck that...

Take What You Like

Sometimes, 

doing what's right 

means doing 

what's not right

for you.

a poem and notes on creation

Thinking and Drinking, Again

Clouds drift through a moonless
sea-sky. As I watch them
I wonder: Is God
sending me a message?

You are these midnight clouds,
God seems to say. Drifting, almost
invisible, there but not.
Silent, empty, ethereal.

I drain my glass and roll
over in the hammock.

Enough with the metaphors.

+++++

I like this poem.

Easy enough to imagine this scene. Nothing out of the ordinary here. Just a man relaxing after a long day, sipping some scotch. The kids are in bed, dinner's dishes washed and put away. The man is relaxing in his hammock, watching the moon cross the sky. Letting his mind wander where it will.

He finds that he has reached a point in his life where he's near enough to death, and has enough time for such musings, that his mind often goes to spiritual places. Pondering God and death and his own place in the grand scheme. His thoughts run too deep, he sees a tiny corner of the truth and turns away from it.

This poem is pure fiction. It didn't happen. None of it. I don't even own a hammock. I did once, but somewhere along the line we gave it away or sold it at a garage sale. I don't drink scotch.

I do like to watch the moon and some nights, I suppose, there must be thin clouds trying desperately to cover it.

This is just an understanding of the possible, not something that actually occurred.

A List of Four Things

A few things I wanted to share:

1. I am on Facebook. I thought it was stupid at first, but I have connected with some very cool people from my past who I haven't seen in twenty-years. Also have met some cool new people.

2. You should really read this. And then this.

3. I am The Amazing Crusader. I am here to help.

4. Just today a friend told me that I'm "a freakin' genius."

Some Books You Need To Read NOW

My friend leah angstman, the brains and brawn of Propaganda Press, has published some amazing books of poetry recently. Here are my top five faves:

1. No One Gains Weight in the Shoulders by leah angstman

2. Nowhere, Utah, by justin.barrett

3. Poiesis #2, various authors

4. Taxi Cab Poet Confessions, Tribute to Dave Church, various authors

5. A Sound to Drive Away the Coming Darkness, by Christopher Cunningham

These books are filled with amazing poetry that you can no longer live without. Even if you normally don't read poetry, you need to buy these. Expand your horizons. Challenge your mind. You won't be sorry.

You can read reviews of some of these books at the nibble website.

You should probably also check out: Untitled, an alien here and These Poems Are Not Pink Clouds.

Remember, I'm here to help.

today is a good day for a poem

Any Excuse

I dare you out
into the snow,
watch your naked
body go pink
from the cold.

When you are
back in the heat,
nipples
erect,

I pull your
chill body down
atop my warmth,
a fevered reward.

justin.barrett

justin.barrett, famed poet and co-founder of the Melville-Sun Poetry Collaborative, had this to say about The Bones of Saints Under Glass:

what to say about Jeff. i’m honored to know him, his book is a masterpiece
i wish never existed merely because it makes my scribblings look neadertal-ish
in comparison. he’s a nice guy, too, which also sucks because that makes it
so much harder to hate him. but, i try

Damn, if only half of that were true...

You should visit Justin here.

Welcome

Welcome to my blog.

Now it's official, everyone in the u.s. between the ages of 9 and 59 has a blog. I was the last holdout.

I will use this space to post poems and other pointless stuff that seems interesting to me.

While you are here, click on the link to nibble or Bones. Better yet, go buy a copy of each! I hear the latest nibble is on sale...

Everyone loves a sale.