Silver Linings

Daydream in Blue

I looked at the setting sun from my post at the coffee shop. I didn’t just look, i stared. Big, beautiful smiling circle that it is, as it were. Almost wholly unreal, on a day like this, how the sun just sits there as if it sat its whole life.

I watched it explode in brilliance and in light, and thought of how now, as people, we forget that we live off of it, we try to take care of it, but at the end and beginning of each day we can’t do much but admire it. Pretty with no doubt, is our glowing orb of life-bearing light.

Then I saw a plane fly by, the kind of plane that ferried human passengers all around through the sky. From one port of air unto another, the plan was to move all the passengers, with little delay, until the end of time. What must those passengers be thinking, thoughts coursing through each of their minds, as they become ferried as they were; to be. From the same port to a similar position, later in time.

Further down the line come more checkpoints and options and dotted lines. This one to go here, as that one goes there, and following the laws of thermodynamics that leads to problems that change but never go and disappear. They just keep on changing, only to reappear as different things in different scenes.

A nightmare, must be this dream! I keep watching the plane trailing away, up higher in elevation with all of those same people that flew out of sunny L.A.

It’s the passengers time; the lucky ones’ sitting on the west side, gently looking at the opposite of this suns’ rise. The moon comes over opposite, gently bugging the tide. The passengers that sit to the east crane their necks, each trying to catch the last glimpse of that big ball fleeting in the sky, before it slips underwater, determined; efficiently having set.

They’re all hopefuls, we’re all hopefuls as of yet. From my position on the ground i thank the gods that i’m not challenging physics, rationality, and Bernouli through heavier-than-air jets. Jets made of space age materials that we as a people have harnessed, pretentious.

And so i digress. I try to do what they told me, in class and in all those years that have now become history lessons. There’s no stop to looking at the light as i trudge forth, as Icarus begins his fall, blind. With boots strapped on so hard that my veins turn black as they beg to be untied. I go running as i begin to notice markings on this planes aft side. Vertical stabilizers marking DHL or Fed-Ex or some other shipping collective leaves only one clear meaning: All those passengers i quantified, all those souls flying over this great divide, all of this strolled in my imagination as i sat perplexed outside...

DMT laced Jibber Jabber from an alternate universe!

"I feel like the lazy river i've been trying to get to for weeks." -JB

"This is like smoking acid." -JB

[staring at a fire] "Dude, I see a fucking Phoenix staring at me in 3D!" -JA

"I see the fabric of the fire." -JA

"This is a shamanic thing." -JB

"I haven't seen avatar but this shit is way better."

"They should make a 3D movie of just fire in HD." -JB

"I want to get all magic-schoolbus on this [fire]." -JB




Image by samantha magowan



(( Anyone else have any memorable chemical quotes? ))

From the Artoons Series

by Peter Duggan









Courtesy of the Guardian
(( http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/series/peter-duggan-artoons ))

Bukowski Starter Kit

(by Charles Bukowski)

ah

flamingo pain,
burnt fingers trying to
light the last of this
joint
in a place described
by terrified ladies
with money in their purses
as a “rat hole.”

“you can spit on the floor here,”
I tell them.

but no, from
a safe
distance, it appears
they’d rather discuss my poetry.








one thousand dollars

all of my knowledge about horse racing
told me that this was a sure bet.
I bet one thousand to win.
the horse had post one
at 6 furlongs.

the bell rang and they came
out of the gate.

my horse turned left
ran through the fence
fell down and
died
right there
at 7/5.

when I tell people this story
they don't say
anything.

sometimes there's nothing to say
about
death.

Lovely po(e)m

‘The skin on the back of your ear feels so weird’, he said
‘No, the skin on the back of your ear feels so weird’, she said
Her green eyes locked with his,
He stirred his coffee, she stirred her tea.

Blast from the ill-literate past

For a long time i wondered what drugs would do
Then i took them
And knew for ever that i knew.

And i know
That it's been four years
and I seem to have been thinking
About maybe, when
I should stop drinking.

But it's been about
Four years
Since i've been thinking, and thinking,
Thinking that i thought i knew.
Because i forgot what i saw
The things that i thought
And the experiences washing over me
Like a tide in an astrological inquisition.