A nice peaceful lunch

 

I went outside into the courtyard at work to do some nice quiet pencil drawing, to regain confidence. My whole creative life is just one long interrupted battle with perfectionism. Why this should be, I don’t know. We’ll save that subject for a million whiny poems. But drawing in pencil is always easy, and a nice reminder that I can indeed draw.

It was very windy. My hair kept fluffing into my face. Normally I’d stick a pencil in there to hold it out of the way but, well, I was using it to draw. Minimalism has its pros and cons.

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Just when the drawing started to come together and I started to sink into the Zone…

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CLANG!!!!

I nearly jumped out of my skin. A large empty metal trash can, the classic kind that I can’t believe people still make and use anymore, fell over right in front of me. The lid blew off and the bag, being empty, wind-socked out.

I decided to do the responsible thing and put it back. I was the only one in the courtyard, and who knows where that lid could blow. So I walked the trash can to a good snug corner and tried to put the lid on it. Had some trouble. The bag was so fluffed out and would not un-fluff. I eventually just gave up and forced the lid over the bag. It was at this point that I started to giggle.

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(I know I just said I was a perfectionist. I vacillate back and forth between “not good enough” and “hell with it.” Guess which this doodle was.)

Slightly discombobulated, I sat back down to draw. WhoooOOOoOOOsh, said the wind. Pbptpbptpbt, said I with a mouthful of hair. The trash can remained firmly ensconced in its new corner, and said very little.

Behind me there was a loud, loud, gunshot CRACK.

THE FUCKING TREE WAS FALLING APART.

 

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So it wasn’t the whole tree but it sure sounded like it. The drawing is more or less to scale. The dialog is also accurate. It might not have hurt me a whole lot if it landed, but oh my bajeezus. That scared me good.

So… something didn’t want me to draw today. I went back inside where the angry gods couldn’t attack me anymore!

HAPPY EASTER YOU SONS A BITCHES! May God and nature smile kindly upon you and not send vengeful winds your way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Serious content

 

Just me, not taking poetry seriously again.

 


 

 

Did you put that
Clown on me
Gross get it off get it off
Ok
Who’s the joker who got the clown off.
I’m leaving this party
It’s getting freaky
In ways that I can’t handle.

 


 

 

Special Agent Foster
Liked lemon cookies
And coffee with coke
And toothpaste in her orange juice
And chocolate with Country Time
And Tang with only a little water so it was a sludge
She died a tragic death too soon
From being just a nasty lady
The end.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Happiness anywhere

This is from a couple days ago.

 


 

Why so sad, Sarah?
Why so sad?
What is it that has sapped your soul
blood sugar?
hormones?
How crazy is crazy
How crazy is normal
How normal is crazy
What is normal
is anyone it?

I drip drip drip
like an old leaky fountain
like the disposal I need to repair
like the rotten corner of the house
the mold takes hold
it grows and grows
peel back my skin
you’ll see green speckles
underneath the paint

How exactly does one
care
what is motivation
and where can I dig some up?
What if
I have no bootstraps
what if
there’s nothing I want
nothing I need
nothing to say or do
nothing matters
I dwindle
nothing matters
I fade
nothing matters.
still I face forward
and chip away
at the time left to me
what future is worth living
what past is worth the struggle
I don’t like struggle
so I just
float
and watch the world move forward
I am pushed by the current
I could have anything I want
but I don’t want anything

once in a while I feel passion
I am mad with enthusiasm for life
It’s all about smelling the flowers, enjoying the sunset
spending time with family
eating out with friends
cooking, drawing, writing
passion is a flame
it needs fuel
it needs blood sugar
it needs dopamine

even then I don’t know what I want
success is vapid
money is boring
all I really want are the people around me
low expectations
already met
now what?

welcome to my first world existential dread
aren’t we pathetic

Who can find happiness during constant peace and prosperity?
What strength! What fortitude!
One who achieves this feat
can find happiness anywhere
has conquered life

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Let’s go to the fair

 

This one is a few years old, from back when I was young and bitter, heh. I’m glad I got older and am now very slightly less bitter. Ahh, it’s good to be breathing the fresh free air of being very slightly less bitter.

Yeah I’m in a weird mood today. Need blood. Anybody wanna loan me some blood? Need sleep. Anybody want to borrow my hyperactive-only-at-midnight kitty? He’s very large and noisy and destructive. All he asks is for constant attention and food and play from 11:30-1:30. If you can wear him out, then pin him down for ten minutes and withstand the battle damage, he’ll go right to sleep like an angel.

 


 

Let’s go to the fair
And have a nice time
Eat cotton candy
Make ourselves sick on deep fried foods
Spin until we can’t see straight
And win a giant stuffed animal
By popping balloons with darts

Yay, that was fun
I feel ill

It was worth it
To see you smile
You smile so rarely anymore
My sweet thing
It doesn’t take much
Or rather
It takes an entire fair
Organized and operated by hundreds of people
Sixty dollars for tickets, food, gas
And you need to get tossed around violently by machines.

But it’s a small price to pay
To see you smile
Dear god I’d do anything to see you smile
Fuck don’t leave me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Journal – Measuring Time

 

Notre Dame burned today.
I wasn’t as upset as I should have been.
Because history rises and falls
We make things, they fall apart
Nobody died
Paris stands
People will continue to create
Marvels
Which in time will crumble too
Everything crumbles
Nothing can stand against
The inexorable pressure of time.
Eons weigh heavy
Days weigh light
We continue to try to measure ourselves
And time
Using our brief little memories
Using our collective tools
Our hearts hands minds
Our clocks, calendars, history books
Our archeology, geology, cosmology
We measure and measure and measure
With little yardsticks laid out
Against the workings of the whole universe
Much too big for us
Like ants
We work together
We stand on the shoulders of our ancestors
We actually think
We’re going somewhere
With our tiny rulers
Our pyramids
Our steps on the moon
Our internet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

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