Travels by Night

The fire had burned brightly and I’d basked in its glow
Now huddled closer as its embers burned low
The light and heat fading, I gathered myself and prepared to go

As I put its faint light to my back
I walked away knowing I could not turn back
Step after step further travels along my track

Crossing the field I looked back on my life
Each time I turned the fire seemed ever more bright
But still I stumbled on into the dark silence of night

Crossing the creek I turned one last time
My tracks on the field a trampled faint line
The light of the fire still more brightly did shine

Unknown ahead of me I went on with a sigh
Thinking of brighter days now gone by

Scraps of digital me

It is a like any other day. Strike that. It is a day EXACTLY like EVERY other day. I tell myself that today, this glorious day, will be different…but it never is. Today is the day that I must write, I tell myself…but I never do it. And so, here I am staring into the digitally pixelized interweb online version of my sad little life wondering what to write. There are thoughts, a great many of them in fact. There are mentally fleshed out stories that I could work on…but I won’t. You see I tell myself daily that this day I will set pen to paper or fingers to keyboard and I will write…but I won’t. There are far too many things to distractingly digital to put aside for even the most pathetic of writing…sucj as what you are reading now, I know. It doesn’t comfort me that I am writing it any more than it comforts you to be reading it. I apologize. You see there are always just a few more thousand points to score on Bejeweled Blitz. I know that if I only play that one last game I will get an truly righteous high score…but I don’t. Its not as if I am sitting here for hours playing a silly game! I am playing a game that lasts 60 seconds, and it is always just one more game, one more minute…until all the minutes in the day are used up in color matching. Digitized online life in a time suck. And a mind suck come to think of it. Instead of being away from the computer actually talking to people I spend hours reading little blurbs on Facebook or Twitter by random people, many of which I don’t actually know…wasting my time and my life 140 characters at a time(for twitter anyway. not sure what the post length limit is for facebook. note to self: waste time on facebook to find out the max length of a post.)

I have a part of my mind that is reserved just for these colossal wastes of time and I call him Jones. Yes, Jones. Why? Well, because if I don’t sit in front of a computer for as much time as humanly possible he comes to the forefront of my mind and insists that there is some vital piece of email or posting that I am missing. He sends the rest of my mind into withdrawal mode…thus his Name Is Jones. Even as I read a really fantastic book by his holiness Arthur C. Clarke this sad little mental man, Jones, will not go to sleep and leave me in peace for a spell. Perish the thought. But today, unlike every other day, I am beating him back into his corner with a rather large and painful looking stick. Okay so it is really just a mental tongue lashing. But still…

Scraps of poetry float through my head. Lyrics by Megadeth and Train accompany them. Haiku eludes me. Hyperbole, metaphor and simile do as well. “If I know I’m going crazy, I must not be insane.” a scrap of Megadeth. Sigh.

So I managed to break out of the loop of facebook/twitter/bejeweled etc. Now what? Tomorrow, or later, I may be able to actually write something of consequence.

Sunrise and Ineptitude

Far beyond the stark beauty of the trees that have shed their summer leaves and settled in for the long New England sleep there is a beauty. From the deepest of indigo, into the powdery blue, and beyond that into shades of peach and crimson, there lies a promise on this cloudless morning of warmth and sunshine. There can be no more beautiful time of day than when the sun is rising or setting. The range of colous goes beyond a mere rainbow, and yet that is all it is: a rainbow on steroids.

I wish in the deepest recesses of my heart that I had a command of the language like Leonard Cohen or Hunter S. Thompson. Alas, this little paragraph will have to suffice.

Untitled II

Alive in the fifth
but drowning in the second
Programming
went awry
only wish to die

Smile
you’re a god
one of a kind
come back down
only to find
Human fears

Concerns overwhelm
close in
drowning me

Meta-nothing
means everything
Caught in my throat
a scream escapes

Drowning in the fifth
Bring on the second
Someone throw me a lifeboat
Nothing as it seems
My soul it bleeds
Wishing, wanting, dreaming
of yesterday

Stoner

originally written on April 19, 2003

Did it again last night. Only three hits and I was off on an incredible journey of the mind.

Amazing to me how little it takes to send me out of reality and into a whole different thought process.

I fell in love with a streetlight outside my brother Chris’ bedroom window for a while. I vaguely remember some archaic wrestling match between him and Laura and then him and Chaun. At the time it seemed very barbaric and I remember thinking that it seemed very ‘circuit 2′. What it seems like now however, I have no idea.

Daisy was there as well but I was unable to form a coherent thought and thus was unable to communicate anything more intelligent than ‘I am so high’ or some other such phrase. Too bad because I really enjoy talking with her; she has some great insights and experiences to share. Maybe next time. I am still astounded that she is only 19; most of the time she comes across much older. ‘Wise beyond her years’ I guess would be an appropriate description.

Whatever. Just rambling now. Funny how my mind seems to skip gears every so often. I get on a train of thought that seems so perfectly clear to me and then all of a sudden I am no longer on the train tracks let alone being on the train. Clarity would be good right.

Ok gonna go now. Need some musical distraction or something. More later…the ‘Paul Harvey’.