well, no I didn’t but while I was walking around, pumpkin shopping, having lunch, dinner, reading, smoking and all that rock n roll – I was asleep. Now, I am awake at one twenty-seven am.
I hold no grudge.
October 20, 2010
walking a thin line of relation
I am waiting
calmly, cautiously
I won’t take my life in 2012
it won’t be taken from me
the GMT constant isn’t
the world will not end then
as it has yet to do
I wish to arise unknowing
ignorant of the stars predilictions
– Hoc Scripsi
I am posting this today though I think it may be crap. I may delete it or drastically alter it. Right now I am tired from not sleeping well and dealing with the continued pain of walking, lying down, sitting and breathing so my ability to flesh out the thought may be incomplete. I take the meds again and realize that it’s been nearly four years since I’ve known a morning or afternoon or evening without being intimate with bone crushing pain. I need a new drug and I am addicted to not being in pain. Shifts of season and lack of proper sleep aggravate the situation.
The path my life has taken since the accident is one I wonder if given the chance would I relive and make a different decision that day – it was such a perfect day – tragedy gave me a gift and exacted a price. There is nothing that I can change about it so I try not to wonder if I would.
July 23, 2010
Friday and the rain comes
It’s raining finally. Meaning that I will not have to go out and water the lawn, the clouds and atmosphere are pulling together and putting water and nutrients into my half assed attempt at an enviable lawn. Rained all night but that didn’t come with the usual good sleep, flashes of lightening, bad dreams, and strange noises kept me awake with one hand on my .45 (the strange noises) but last nights sleep was an improvement over the night before. I had seemingly been cured of the plaguing insomnia or I had nearly been convinced that I had been cured through medication which may have helped the sleep and is now weeping out from my skin as I have suspended this particular prescription. Why? I couldn’t write and I was too medicated to be angry about it. I’ve thrashed most of what I had written while on this last attempt at stability. I realize now that I prefer walking on the fine edge of a razor blade to the life that medication offers you.
Wow, from simple rain to the complex world of anti-psychotics.
The walls may start to bleed again, disembodied eyes may watch me from the windows, the noise is coming back slowly slowly slowly and I’m getting the headaches again here and there, here and there. Still not feeling anger but able to meditate and breathe when the air isn’t suffocated from under the glass walls.
– it’s the good rain that does it, makes me nostalgic for a more unhinged period of my life.
elements
eating dinner by
two candle power
light
& glasses of water like
goblets of wine
between us,
we eat slowly,
laugh heartily
and are only drowning
in concern
under
clean skin, made
beautiful by artificial
means.
– Hoc Scripsi
July 19, 2010
this is what I am thinking as I am picking the sleep from my eyes.
Had a nap yesterday that didn’t feel like a nap and last night didn’t feel like sleep until about seven am which lasted until roughly nine. I’d call it sleeping in if the night was full of sleep. Most nights since I stopped taking the anti-psychotic have been fine but the main reason to stop taking the meds has not reversed itself as of yet. My mind is still clouded and the creative drought still exists. There is the other thought that I am splitting my mind between too many things right now to be able to concentrate on new poetry or prose.
I decided this weekend that I ought to have been applying labels or tags to each of my posts for easier reference. As I had not been doing this I am now going back and having to skim each one to apply the labels or tags and avoid the temptation to revise and rewrite passages that are not on the level of quality that the others are. Last night I did over a hundred thus completing the bulk of them and tonight I may finish the project but now I am thinking that I would be better off thinking of about 15 tags and only utilizing those which would mean that I would have to start over. I am not being kind to myself.
This morning is a Tom Waits morning and currently the song “Kentucky Avenue” is playing – brings me to tears every time.
My coffee is good and thanks to Kara for making it this morning when I was refusing to rouse myself. There is nothing better than walking into a kitchen where there is fresh, hot coffee and clean mugs – I drink it black and burn your fingertips hot.
I wonder what is done with medical waste and what will alien anthropologists think when it is found?
I’m almost sure there is a simple explanation but I am too nervous to use Google thinking that flarf may lead me into a new direction where there exists the pornographic denizens of the internet.
Words are dry, meaningless
words are dry,
expression faceless.
the ladybugs came here to die
on my window;
baking in the sun.
a hundred portraits
unhung,
composing city life.
walks along South Michigan
in Chicago;
children think I am homeless
and dirty.
find Buddha in the patrons .
find Buddha in the hall.
find Buddha on the front steps
of MOMA.
je suis beau!
find Buddha in me!
on these steps I ask for a light;
and I am
not thinking that I’m going to write this
a year later, or more, sitting at
my desk. where
ladybugs come to die
on my window.
– Hoc Scripsi
the platitudes of willful resemblance 