1 The route to Hell is a well-lived life. I dreamt I was throwing a fish fry. As I prepped for the fish fry, there was a shadowy female presence helping me out. A Shadow in a dream can represent something unknown or unseen about yourself, a sort of a personal blind spot. Carl Jung …
1 I’ve been in a kind of holding pattern over the last several days as I process all the words I’ve been reading about content curation and blogging and the state of blogging in general. I’m gearing up of course for another crack at this blogging thing as a central point of contact on the …
“Space travel was once the communal dream and subsequent reality of 1960s. Fifty years ago, the Saturn V blasted off from the Kennedy Space Center and landed the first men on the moon.” It was a dark day. I was lying in bed recovering from emergency surgery from a cat bite. Cat bite?! Yeah I …
Your mama told you ‘be careful what you wish for’; she was right Read More »
imagine the slow-released madness placed under the tongue my friend and I have a bet that his face is too tight under his skin, a pale ghost milked by his masters to prolong life in the dark place where it’s too hard to see tomorrow, by now she could see the decades of self-sacrifice, a …
a drop of blood in the stars divides the blue against the broken sun, the fiery light passes from hand to hand, gnawing on our bones in a corner of heaven
This past weekend, we packed up the Outlander and headed northeast to King’s Lynn for a little camping excursion. The first one of the season. I know it’s late, but heck with the earlier weather not being the best and then vacation time in Fuerteventura, well the days and weeks fly by and before you …
can be yourself don’t bottle up the body, keep it open. when all self-identifications remain get rid of god. no self-definition, i am energy and bring nothing reality here, can i demand nothing when you want nothing, seek nothing expect nothing unexpected! a man engrossed prescribed by his scriptures will get wrapped up in them …
I finally finished Jack Kerouac’s Book of Sketches. The story goes that in 1951, Jack’s friend Ed White encouraged him to do like painters do and make sketches in the street but with words instead of paint. And so Kerouac did. He began writing down prose poem “sketches” in the small notebooks he kept in …
god be sitting on a fence up the road i saw him peering at the traffic passing by then he wandered over to the tobacco shop said something to the barelegged boy leaning on the countertop adjusted his spandex shorts and left