Wednesday, October 31, 2012

full moon

I got No Exit
from full moon madness.
Every month it comes around,
stealing my gladness.

Flashing back to a time of jellyfish lightnin'
Watching the waves roll and baskin' in moon shine.

A missed kiss?
Hell yeah!
And then I missed another.
And now I have no recourse
but to treat him like a brother.

It's making me crazy to vacillate this way.
And every month the full moon leaves me sadly grey.

Chicken soup for breakfast
brings no solace to my soul.
The piece of my heart given away
has left a lunar hole
that fills with new shared memories in between the times
of full moon madness
and a night sky that shines.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

strange pussy

Here's another odd little conversation between me and the bfe. This was a day after going out to dance with Rocks near the beach.

me: Last night, i danced with the devil, played with strange pussy, and had at least eight partners! And half were women!
me: i gotta wear my autumn leaves dress more often! ;)
me: How was *your* evening?

bfe: Dudette, an evening drinking PBR with Y* and his girl...doesn't sound anything like yours. I suspect everything you say to be true...but not exactly.

me: True dat!

bfe: ;)

me: K* (the librarian) was wearing devil horns and said "my friend, you are dancing with the devil" - and i responded, "and i was just playing with strange pussy"...
me: ...as i had a lovely orange tabby keep me occupied during the band's break. Strange pussy!

bfe: I thought that maybe it was someone dressed up in a cat outfit!
bfe: A real cat!
bfe: Even better!

me: As 4 the partners - i was asked to dance a LOT!! I did dance solo a bit, too.

bfe: (sends pic of Contessa) Buddy, I'm the only cat you need. But I understand...

me: You tell Contessa she has naught to fear. i DO belong to HER, and her alone!

bfe: That would make her very happy. But she is not a jealous cat. For the most part.

me: Srsly! i had SUCH a lovely time!

bfe: You were on fire!

me: i dreamt of her the other night... tell her that.

bfe: Me-OW!

Friday, October 26, 2012

fun for your ears

More glorious puns, just in time for Halloween treats!


To write with a broken pencil is pointless.

When fish are in schools they sometimes take debate.

A thief who stole a calendar got twelve months.

When the smog lifts in Los Angeles, U.C.L.A.

The professor discovered that her theory of earthquakes was on shaky ground.

The batteries were given out free of charge.

A dentist and a manicurist married they fought tooth and nail.

A will is a dead giveaway.

If you don't pay your exorcist you can get repossessed.

With her marriage, she got a new name and a dress.

Show me a piano falling down a mineshaft and I'll show you A-flat miner.

You are stuck with your debt if you can't budge it.

Local Area Network in Australia: the LAN down under.

When you've seen one shopping center you've seen a mall.

Police were called to a day care where a three-year-old was resisting a rest.

Did you hear about the fellow whose whole left side was cut off?
He's all right now.

If you take a laptop computer for a run you could jog your memory.

A bicycle can't stand alone; it is two tired.

In a democracy it's your vote that counts; in feudalism, it's your Count that votes.

When a clock is hungry it goes back four seconds

The guy who fell onto an upholstery machine was fully recovered.

He had a photographic memory which was never developed.

Those who get too big for their britches will be exposed in the end.

When she saw her first strands of gray hair, she thought she'd dye.

Acupuncture: a jab well done.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

home alone

So, yesterday, I arrived at my bff's house before she did. I contacted my bfe to let him know I had arrived safely and to chat (well, text, if you must know) while I waited.
The following is our conversation.

me: I'm here! And nuvi even showed me a new way to go. I think it may have been a little faster, even!
bfe: good to know!
me: She's still at work, so right now I'm home alone.
bfe: I've never seen Home Alone but I heard that shit gets crazy.
me: Total mayhem! hilarious! like 3 stooges (though there are only 2).
bfe: Just Larry and Curly... not the great mind of Moe.
me: UNLESS you consider the kid as Moe, wreaking havoc on the others!
bfe: A Moe shooting heroin later in life!
me: No, he would have been too mellow for all that if he was ON smack.
bfe: True, the her-won is supposed to make one mellow.

Man, I so enjoy these wacky chats!

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

what if

"I don't believe in hypothetical situations. It's like lying to your brain."
So spoke a literal-minded character on "30 Rock".
Sometimes I catch myself weaving story lines I know to be untrue, tales to make my life seem more fulfilled, more exciting, more...worth living.
Sometimes I even catch myself believing the fabrications more so than the reality.
And sometimes the threads woven to tether me to this world begin to unravel and I find myself unwilling to remain.
I had one of those moments a few weeks ago after "Project Shiphunt". The film left me desperately missing my mother.
I found myself in a restaurant downtown, unable to stop crying, wishing myself anywhere but on this blue-green orb.
The waitstaff let me be and didn't ask questions beyond general needs.
More tea?
Is the food okay?
Can I get you anything else?
And I sobbed and ate a delicious meal and watched the fish and ignored the chatterings of those sitting behind me, ignored others who entered and left as I sat.
And I sobbed, quietly, wiping saltwater stains onto my shirtsleeves.
By the time I was to return to the Ocean Film Festival, my tears were fairly spent. And the next film helped to strengthen my tether once more, at least for the night.


Tuesday, October 2, 2012

charles bukowski

The wave lent me this book of poetry titled "The Continual Condition". By and large, it's fairly depressing stuff. I can certainly picture the jaded old man who wrote it.
Here are a few pieces which caught my mind's eye.

"my art form" reminds me, in a melancholy way, of my friend who lent the book to me. Like a jockey who must occasionally win to keep his job, the writer feels he is having to prove himself by occasionally doing something well enough to remain a writer, rather than "a whore who can't score." Instead, the writer had dreamt of becoming "the happy idiot able to get food easily and easy sympathy, a planned confusion of not too much love or effort." The writer ends with the postulate that, to some, he has achieved that dream through his choice of his life's work.
Definitely sad to me.

"listening to the radio at 1:35 a.m." is another sad piece that appealed to me. In it, the writer seems to be wishing he were at a beach house, listening to the waves, instead of fighting for his life "within these 4 walls 20 miles inland". But with the tongue of the cynic, of the beach house scene he painted he says "you can feel crappy there too-". Sadly, I know that to be true.
Definitely sad to me.

But he did have one piece I regard as hopeful.
"I saw a tramp last night" tells of an old cur going "down nobody's alley being nobody's dog... moving through it all, brave as any army." I do believe I can relate to that old dog, feeling as I sometimes do that I belong to no one, alone in the world, but moving along still.
Melancholy, yes. But also hopeful.