My day happened in fragments.  I woke up with this question on my mind: What dream am I chasing now? One of the problems I’ve had over the past couple of years is trying to force myself to stay excited about the things that used to get me fired up like climbing mountains, and travel to different places experiencing new cultures, going to museums and art galleries among other things.  But there comes a point, or least for me it did, when I thought one mountain basically the same as another.  You find a trail. You struggle to the top.  Peer around at the view, and then climb back down again.  Climbing one mountain versus another was different in degrees, but fundamentally the same.  How many times can you look at old paintings, or artefacts from somebody who dies centuries ago who was in fact just another person, same as me, living his life day by day until he wasn’t.  And I could go on and on about the savage routine of my life in a society thats breed you to be a rinse and repeat warrior.

Some would call that being jaded.  I guess having done so many things and so many great experiences earlier on in life that, yeah, I’d become jaded.

And this morning’s questions came in good time.  One I need to spend some time with this week.  I have a feeling it’s going to be something that is real, that has heart as Carlos Castaneda would say.  It’s has to be real and it has to be full on, no half-measures.  I’m not jaded as such now, but I do need to shake things up a little bit, and Introduce a little chaos

Here’s a poem I started working on today.  It was inspired by Break On Through (To The Other Side).  If you know the song, you’ll spot the reference.

This is the first pass of it:

Resurrection is dead.
I think I want to cancel my subscription too.
I have friends on the other side, they’ve not
come back to tell any tales. There’s nothing on
Trip Advisor or Yell.com. I think I’ll go to
Greece instead.

Anyway, I’ll play around with it some more.

I decided to spend some time with Jim Morrison’s The lost Writings.  The poems in this book were published after his death from notebooks and papers from his estate.  I don’t like the poems in this volume as mush as do the poems found in his two published works – The Lords and The Creatures.

His poems in the lost writings have a psychedelic flow.  In these poems, Morrison the Shaman comes out.  I might try reading this volume in low light light, with candles and incense.

Soundtrack:

Not much music in my head today.

I looked on my Goodreads app.  I have 54 books in currently-reading status! My reading goal this year is 100 books.  I’m on 19. I read according to mood or what I want to explore on any given day.  Currently I’m bouncing between the Olson biography and his Selected Poems and Ginsberg’s Journals and Jim Morrison’s poems, both the Wilderness Volume 1 and The Lords.

The Olson stuff is turning me on intellectually, while Ginsberg and Morrison are hitting the passion button and firing me up emotionally. Sometimes, like this morning, there’s a battle between the two – the head and the heart.  I want to read both at the same time!

I might have to leave this one up to the dice, which by the way I’m planning to put into play again. Dicing, as it’s called, is a concept derived from the Luke Rhinehart novel, The Dice Man. I first red the novel back in 2004. The idea behind dicing is that our lives are mostly governed by chance. And what the Dice Man did was to take chance into his own hand by using dice to make all of his decisions. On my very first blog, I wrote a post about it.

Dicing 101

When you have a decision or choice to make, pick 6 options and then let the die decide by assigning a number to each option. One of the options has to be something that is way out of your comfort zone or that you would never do. The ultimate rule of dicing is that you have to abide by the outcome of the roll, no exceptions. I once diced for a week. It was a very interesting week and i’m thinking about bringing the dice back into play, spice things up a little bit.  You can one or two die.  Or your can make two options and then use odd/even to make the decision i.e. if its’ 1,3, or 5 do X if 2,4,6 do Y.  I prefer to do the 6 options roll.

Try it yourself.  The next decision you have to make, big or small, let the dice decide your fate.

Some word sketches, Costa Coffee…

plotting, plotted plopped
down in costa coffee, where
i do my thinking sometime,
eat cheese toasties, fat
dude in blue, small white
coffee, he sits for a few
seconds, then out comes the iPhone
(jut when you thought it was safe
go back into the water
lady in green long sleeve blouse, her
little friend wth a pink uniform
dances about the place

Note to self: Don’t try blogging when you’re tired or have just come from a party feeling topsy!

Anyway, I wrote a micropoem – What Would You Do

I’m plenty tired right now, so I think it’s time i bow out.

Soundtrack:

I can’t believe how excited I get about a book. I found a package on the stairs that had this in it:

I could feel my face light up like a little school boy with a new toy. And of course I was suppose to be doing something else, but I had to stop and flick through the pages, turn it over in my hands and read the introduction.

After Morrison wigged out on alcohol and was on the run from music, he returned to writing poetry. And the two official volumes that came out of that were The Lords and The New Creatures, and Jim Morrison became James Douglas Morrison the poet. Of course the publishers, with one wicked eye on making money, wanted to capitalise on his rock star status and didn’t honour his request to keep James separate from Jim.

I feel a little back like that. I’ve been considering returning back to Clayton which is my real name. It was my friends who got tired of calling me Clayton and reduce me to Clay. I eventually adopted the name and started introducing myself as Clay. I think Clay and Clayton are fundamentally different. If you’ve met me in person, you most likely only know Clay. If you know me only through the Net and you’ve read some of my darker more introspective writing, then you will have had glimpses of Clayton. When nobody is around I’m more Clayton than Clay. I have to get into character when people are around. Every now and then somebody will catch me still in Clayton mode and they’ll inevitably ask, “are you feeling ok?”

I’m a little late to the party with Parks and Recreation. My son kept banging on about how I’m like the Ron Swanson character (when it comes to food) my wife thinks I’m unlike him (when it comes to handling tools and DIY). I see both their points. I think I’m like the Chris Traegor character (at work anyway). Parks and Rec is a great series once you get past season one, so if you haven’t watched it, do so.

Long live the blog.

Like rock and roll, blogging has died a thousand deaths, yet here we are.  I must admit, I don’t like the state of blogging today with it’s emphasis on listicles and usefulness and productivity and how to’s etc. I want to start a retro movement and bring back the blog as the place to dump the contents of your mind or rant about something only you care about or slit your wrists and bleed on the page (screen).  Raw stream of consciousness stuff, talk about whatever the freaking dog’s bottom you want to talk about, writing like nobody’s listening (’cause they aren’t), but who cares?!  If you’re reading this, God bless, and welcome to the club.  Say some shit as well (by that I mean say what you want to say in the comments (remember the days when people used to comment in the comment section of blogs, now a lot of blogs close their comments sections because of the spammers (which I never really understood anyway (now let’s see if I close all my parentheses)))) Hehe..

I want to bring back the personal blog, blogrolls and blog comments.  If you don’t have a blog, start one (WordPress has a free service and Blogger is still around). If you have a blog but it’s mainly collecting dust, brush that bitch off and get to blogging (ping me if you do).

On another note…

It was podcast day today.  We talked all about breathing.  Who would have thought there was so much to say about breathing?!

Ok so,

If a tree falls in a forest and nobody hears it, does the sound exist? By extension, if God speaks and nobody hears him/her…

And lastly, before I go watch the SciFi series, Zoo, here’s the draft of a new poem I’m working on:

She is beautiful.
Everything about her looks tasty.
The lips, the hair, the brown eyes
and small tits.

She’s not mine though.

But mama says I can
look at the menu so

I salivate (like Pavlov’s Dog),
rub my tummy and imagine
what she tastes like.

But mama I can’t get full
from a menu though.

You can’t get burnt either so

Look. See it burns if you touch.
She’ll cut your heart out and drink
your blood from a dark river.

You didn’t notice the wedding ring?

No. My lawless heart was hunting me.
A thousand deep kisses drowned
in self-pity. She’ll wake up tomorrow
and not remember how bizarre the
pills were we took last night.

Soundtrack: