Recycle Bin

Fresno State Baseball has a National Championship

2008-06-25T21:53:00.000-07:00

My dad has this tattered briefcase that he keeps in a cabinet in the garage. One day I pored through it and found a bunch of old documents, including his college diploma. Ronald Reagan's signature was at the bottom because he was the governor at the time. After my dad graduated, he joined the military and served during Vietnam. When his service was over, he bought a farm equipment shop with the backing of his uncle Chet.

I really value the few stories my dad has shared about his background, and over the last few years he's given me a few odds and ends from his past. I have a wooden lamp and a chime he brought back from West Germany. On my 30th birthday he gave me a gold pocket watch that Chet had recieved on his 60th birthday in 1947...which was also the year my dad was born.

Something else that he's kind of given me is Fresno State sports. We've had season tickets to football and basketball games since 1988. I still remember the 1989 year. It encompassed the basic story of Fresno State sports for most people. Fresno State was 10-0 in football. They'd beaten teams 52-22, 52-37, 52-0, 34-7, and most recently, 45-5. They had even moved into the national polls. To wrap up the season, Frenso played a non-conference game against New Mexico. If Frenso won, they would have an undefeated record heading into a post-season bowl. New Mexico was 1-10 on the year, and 3-31 over the past 3 years, including a 68-21 loss to Fresno State the year before. But the unthinkable happened. New Mexico won 45-22. Even at 11 years old, I was absolutely sick. Fresno State would beat New Mexico for the next four years, including a 94-17 win two years later, but it didn't matter.

I remember the following year as well. Fresno State started the year 5-0, including winning 3 straight games by a combined score of 111-13. People were starting to get excited about a Frenso State team possibly going undefeated. But the following week they lost to a 2-3 Northern Illinois team 73-18!

1991 was more of the same. Fresno State was led by Trent Dilfer and won their first 7 games. In those 7 games they'd scored 55, 34, 24, 94, 42, 42, and 48 points. On the following week they lost 20-19 to a Utah State team that was 1-6! Fresno even went on to score 59, 38, and 31 points in their final 3 games and finished the regular season 10-1. But, it didn't matter. They'd lost when they weren't supposed to.

And that's not even to mention the the hype that hasn't been met with performance over their tenure with Pat Hill.

In basketball it has been more of the same. I remember watching Ron Adams guide Fresno State to their worst home record (6-9) in the history of Selland Arena...they were 10-19 overall. And thier time with Gary Colson wasn't much better (76-73 over 5 years). Back then the disappointment was each time we played Jerry Tarkanian's UNLV teams so closely before being let down in the second half. In 1988-89 UNLV was 29-8, and Fresno got my hopes up by losing their two games against UNLV by 4 and 6 points. When UNLV won the National Championship the following year, Fresno broke my heart again by losing to UNLV twice, this time by 9 and 5 points!

How about softball? How does Jamie Southern finish her career 4th in NCAA history in shutouts, 10th in strikeouts, and 10th in wins, but NEVER make it out of the regional that was held in Fresno each year she was here? I mean, every year she was here she ranked in the top 3 in in the nation in era! She threw 8 no hitters. She was a 4-time All-American, 4-time WAC pitcher of the year, 4-time All-WAC, 4-time Easton Sports All-American, and 4-time All-West Region. Her teams went 177-74...but never got through a damn regional.

So tonight was really important. Some people think my enthusiasm over Fresno State is silly. But it's just part of me. I'm glad my dad drove over to the coast to watch the game with me. That's just how it was supposed to be. I'm satisfied. Finally, a Fresno State team hasn't left me disappointed when the game was over. I know there are fair weather fans that will latch on to this an try to bask in the summer sun. But it won't be the same for them. And I know Fresno State's critics will still pick at where Frenso State falls short. But for one night they can be quiet. Fresno State won the national championship in baseball. In one month they won 10 games against top level competition. San Diego, Arizona State, Rice, North Carolina, and Georgia all had a chance to show us it was a fluke. But Fresno State showed that, at least for one month, they had the best baseball team in America.

Fantasy Baseball

2008-06-12T13:38:00.000-07:00

Back at the end of March I got stupid and signed up to participate in four fantasy baseball leagues. Two of the leagues were rotisserie leagues, which I'd never participated in before. The other two leagues were head to head leagues, which I performed in respectably in last year. The only other thing worth mentioning concerning the leagues is that one allows for daily changes (for unemployeed college kids), while the other 3 allow only weekly changes.

Here's how I'm stacking up after 10 weeks (of 23):
If you don't want to read the details, just know that I'm in 1st (of 10 teams) in two leagues, 2nd in one, and 5th (of 12 teams) in the other.

League 1: (Yahoo, Rotisserie with daily transactions...ridiculous)

1. HNIC...........106 points (out of 120)
5. Metropolitans 70 points
I'm just 14 points out of 2nd place. A poor draft, crippling injuries, and a lack of daily maintenance has me hoping to sneak in and take the silver in this one. I'm very disappointed. I just can't keep up with a league on a daily basis for 6 months, and am in way over my head.

League 2: (CBSSportsline, Rotisserie with weekly transactions)

1. Metropolitans3........84.0 points (out of 100)
2. ENT...................76.5
3. terps123..............68.5
I actually spent the first 10 weeks with 2 fewer players than everyone else. I had a strong draft, and have filled any gaps I had. I fully expect to run away with this division.

League 3: (CBSSportsline, Head to Head with weekly transactions)

1. Bonds4President.......8-2........3755.6 points for........2972.8 points allowed
2. MetropolitansII.......6-4........3623.0 points for........3459.3 points allowed
In this league I'm actually in first in my division. The best record belongs ot a team in the other division. I anticipate holding on to one of the two playoffs spots for my division, and then luck will decide which team wins two playoff games. My team is possibly the best team, but I've been matched up against opponents who had huge games...as noted in the fact that I've allowed 500 more points than the 8-2 team.

League 4: (CBSSportsline, Head to Head with weekly transactions)

1. Metropolitans.......10-0........3880.3 points for........3025.2 points allowed
2. Bad Karma............9-1........3549.5 points for........2733.8 points allowed
This league has taken most of my attention. I love my roster and I love my luck so far. I've given Bad Karma his only loss, and my point allowed show that I haven't just been fortunate. The only question in this league is whether I'll drop an egg in either of my playoff games.

lactic acid

2008-03-24T22:27:00.001-07:00

Conversation therapy
Your voice prescribed to soothe/
Life inhabits arteries with glass so I can’t move/
So I stand still…
My legs fill dense with lactic acid/
Muscles become flaccid bags of weight that make my back sick/
Hands cohabit shyly in the solace of my pockets/
We calmly talk but mentally I gag my mouth and vomit/
Your look seeks me
I dodge it/
Your touch treats me
My pain’s chronic/
Fixated
I evict your handprints oiled on my skin/
Shave my exodermis
The breeze draws from me a grin/
Imagine how your kisses drench my tissue
Shelter breached/
See the way my muscles tense because they feel your reach/
It’s symmetry how oxygen’s a poison but we need it/
Mentally I need your squeeze
But constantly you tease it

A Short Story

2008-02-18T12:30:00.000-08:00

Required Words: birthday, calligraphy, fireplace, float, fresh, fur, green, magic, picture, scar

For a child, an early bedtime is an effect correlated with some undesired cause. Tonight, however, the most scrupulous abridgment of my actions uncovered no fault on my behalf. As even-handed as my mother was, she had made an oversight concerning my castigation. Through some primordial awareness I knew something was erroneous. Incentive hid where parents forbid my presence. Predisposition led me to one conclusion: daddy was drinking again.

Even before being banished to the confinement of my room, I saw the signs. It was Tuesday, and daddy was on his way home from Calligraphy class. Time wasn’t my confidant, though. On occasion I would plead with the clock for the knowledge it shared with adults. There was no spoken dialogue between either party. Mommy or daddy would look intently at the wall adornment in some sort of silent struggle for information. On each occasion the clock would relent, handing over the desired insight. Apparently, with age and awareness I would accrue the capacity to take time from clock. But not tonight.

My evidence was uncomplicated. Mommy had gathered kindling from the back yard and arranged it within the fireplace. She was wearing her birthday gift: blue sweats with a drawstring waist and a wife-beater. An inch of ribbed fabric draped over her right shoulder. The other fell off of her left arm in a capitulating fashion.

Through the garment her scar was palpable. Superlative skin shrouded a psyche withered from misuse. I had never glimpsed it firsthand. No one had that I'm informed of. But mommy kept the picture in her purse.

I anticipated each outing to the grocery story because I loved watching mommy write checks. There was even an unwritten, highly revered procedure. To start, she must franticly undress her purse in search of a pen. Subsequently, in a merciful show of leniency, the clerk would bequeath the ballpoint reserved for such emergencies. And finally, my mommy would wield the pen with such authority as to make one question the pen's original proprietor. And then it happened.

My drifting eye observed a small photograph. It was rounded at the edges from years or stress. Time had drained the picture of much of its color. Within the photo stood mommy, unmaimed. Adolescent. Discarded of the weight she now seemed to bear begrudgingly. Next to her was a man unrecognizable to me. Around his neck hung the fur of some unknown animal. From the poverty I tasted on a daily basis, I had never encountered a heap of bills so significant. Fresh green seemed to spill from his wardrobe. Behind them rested a float. At the time of the picture, the float was probably making its way through the crowded downtown streets. But within the boundaries of a photograph, movement was arrested. A Polaroid had flooded the parade with guilt, and all one could do was stand still, cloaked in culpability.

“Paper or plastic?” solicited the clerk, unapologetically.

* * * * *

Subtly I induced my door into a silent opening. From my confinement at the end of the hall, I was only able to pilfer a partial view of clandestine events of which my mother forbade me. And the accolade was without value. Daddy was masked from head to toe in black and white attire. He was going to show mommy his magic.

San Diego

2008-02-17T10:05:00.001-08:00

A thousand paths to stamp his fate
His words must take one road/
A grown man thrown upon the tracks
She leaves him weak
Unrobed/
Unknown to most
He’s saved one card
One stone cast from the plank/
He’ll thank her for the drink they shared
The evening that they sank/
He hesitates to forfeit her before the scene unfolds/
By God
This dream won’t end the same
He won’t wake up untold/
Unrolled
The scrolls reveal his will:
To tell an honest tale/

I gave you what I thought you wanted
On this trail I’ve failed/
I felt that what composed my being would leave you unamused/
Confused
I sought to keep what piece the phone gave me of you/
Untrue or straight out lying
I’d pipe out each expected answer/
Regret it?
No
But know the words I spoke weren't festive banter/
I’ve stowed the best (or last at least) to cease our treasured journey/
I’ve blurred my notebook with this pen this long to keep you turning/
With fury I recited every love that left me squirming/
For what it’s worth
For you I lit my lines and let rhymes burn me/
Finally I’ve found a worthy fate to fall my quill/
Failing to elicit youI’ll let my scrawl lie still/
Well, bye dear Friend
I’m emptied out
Now leave me squeezing air/
In all my life
One night I’ll keep
Is when I shared your stare/

conversations traded

2008-02-03T12:59:00.001-08:00

Let your mouth move
With words tie their attention/
Swiftly cast glance
At last our “cat and mouse” commences/
Like a pad on pen the friction strips my well of black disgust/
I lack the trust to nudge your touch
Unjust
You brush its dust/
Inside I rush to tuck the wind struck hair that masks your cheek/
My vivid imagery depicts my hand
The skin it seeks/
Midreach
I reconsider chances bleak
If real at all/
I stall
It dawns we’ve never met
Yet in my head we craw-/to any refuge from the structure
Expectations
Culture’s way/
They seek to fold the image that I’ve molded from your clay/
For gain or not I’ll toss my inhibitions when I call/
When hopes and false pretensions fade
I’ll take the thankless walk/
The lost (through being inept) gives depth and value to the warfare/
Aware we’ve never blended breath
Yet still I crave your air/
Unfair
That every night envelops
Till you’re etched on canvas/
I curse the land that separates
The space that means to span us/
Distance and time unhand us
These distractions can’t discount/
The way I’ve missed your voice
The noise it drowns out when it sounds/
I recount every conversation traded behind darkness/
Daily I discard you
Time misused
By night we’ve started-/
Re embarking on our portion of the play/
It weighs on me
That any given scene our paths could sway/

December 31...11:00 A.M.

2007-12-30T21:18:00.000-08:00

Gosh. Here are Clifton's first 6 punt returns as a Bulldog:

Against Rice
#1: 67 yards, TD
#2: 62 yards (tripped up at the 10)
#3: 8 yards

Weber State
#4: 11 yards
#5: 92 yards, TD
#6: 86 yards, TD

The 3 returns for 189 yards and 2 touchdowns are an NCAA record.

Yeah. 6 returns for 326 yards and 3 touchdowns. The very next game he goes and tears his anterior cruciate ligament, lateral collateral ligament and hamstring tendon agaisnt Oregon.

Clifton Smith

2007-12-23T17:03:00.000-08:00

We only get one more chance to see Clifton play in a Fresno State jersey. I'm just bummed he came as an academic non-qualifier. I'm even more disappointed that he lost a whole season when he destroyed his knee. He would have had completely ridiculous numbers he hadn't missed so much time. Having a Bakersfield product (Ryan Mathews) come in this year makes it a bit easier to swallow, but I'm going to be really disappointed when he's gone. This is right up there with when Brandon Bakke's career ended with the basketball team.

New York

2007-11-13T19:27:00.000-08:00

I miss New York. I didn't take very many pictures while I was there. Photographs kind of simplify what you're actually experiencing. Either way. Summer. 2008. Hopefully Johan will be wearing a Mets jersey this time around.

Lost but Searching

2007-10-24T22:25:00.000-07:00

Immerse within this verse constructed with a nudge to hush women :)
Wishes become dust in inclination to rush contentment
Snitches twist intention amid their lives of time wasted
Take statements out of transit then insist that I betrayed them
Plaintiffs stick to accusations postulating clients' innocence
Hypocrites sicken even the most sin-strickened witnesses
Sift amid the splintered boat we sculled in summer weather
Measure up the weight of gain or loss and toss the lesser
Dress your complaints of my conduct just excuse my vomit
Honest thoughts on hindsight shine light on the heeding comments
God, there’s no logic to the premise of what you argue
Charred for the view that my fortress was contoured to discard you
Far be it for me to say “See!” when mentioning past sent warnings
Ignore me, then drape me with blame after hope commences forming
Contort or distort me to the image that best eases hurting
Surely I’ll try to find the next chick that thinks I’m lost but searching

Pittsburgh and Philadelphia

2007-10-21T10:04:00.000-07:00

From Chicago I drove through Michigan and up into Toronto. Visually, Canada was like nothing I saw throughout the states. But I didn't take any pictures. After driving past Niagara Falls I went to a baseball game in Pittsburgh and my brother met me in Philadelphia. Click on the statue of Washington. It's got a great quote. As far as that goes, go back a few posts and click on the picture of Soldier Field.

each rhyme that she took

2007-10-18T22:31:00.000-07:00

Sawdust blown away
Wood shavings brushed aside display/
A well designed
Defiled shell of failure in a play/
In vain he searched for characters to trade his scripted part/
Depicted part of what he was so far
She numbly ripped his heart/
Retarded sense of context
He dissected each encounter/
Bound each prospect with potential
Built a fence around her/

It used to be effortless
Stressed syllables matched without pressure/
Sounds aligned without measure/
Pleasure was expressing a thought
Not substituting for a lesser word with a better flow/
Nor throwing out a token that would let her know/

Stoop within the gutter
Prod the vagrant's vacant book
Look at when she left his life and each rhyme that she took
She shook the being she was to fit his neatly inked desires
He'd write to grasp her shadow though he lacked the words required
So on they danced their "cat and mouse" till one of two things happened
He ran his heart of ink or she just couldn’t read and vanished

Niagara Falls

2007-10-14T08:34:00.000-07:00

Yup.

Bland

2007-10-11T23:33:00.000-07:00

A different day
Syndication of the issue/
With pen disseminate
The way I hate the time I’m with you/
I can’t get through each reunion
Because on cue our time elapses/
Panicked
Clasp the clock around the neck until it passes/
Unhand it
Wrap my ears around your voice as it splits air/
Neglect to share your scent on days the breeze hints of your hair/
Unfair
The way the winds of autumn tease me with your fragrance/
Days spent in your absence leave me waning with the vagrants/
Aimless
I see out our moments
Hold them in my thinking/
Squeeze out every second known but let me keep your breathing/
Breach my scenery
Bleach each image etched upon my mind/
Please leave alone your visage
Render lens and iris blind/
Grind away my skin and nerves
Disperse my sense of touch/
Just let me tuck away the flood of blood when our arms brush/
Suck away each flavor savored
Sweet and sour flip/
Everything deemed bland
Against your taste upon my lips/

Soldier Field

2007-10-11T20:55:00.000-07:00

I've been to several sports stadiums. Most recently there was Shea. I grew up seeing old videos of my mets winning the world series in 1969, and more recently, 1986. On a much smaller scale, the stadium is also remembered for hosting the beatles. I've also been to Texas stadium to see the Cowboys and Broncos on Thanksgiving Day. For me, those experiences were both epic. But just walking around Soldier Stadium and seeing the plaques dedicated to our armed forces was incredible on a totally different level.

Plus, I got a Bernard Berrian bobblehead in the team store.

Frick Museum in Chicago

2007-10-10T21:34:00.000-07:00

I love dinosaurs. Seeing them at the museum was definitely a highlight of the trip. I should say "museums." I saw dinosaurs in museums in Denver, Chicago, Pittsburgh, and a small town in Utah.

Denver Skyline

2007-10-09T21:00:00.000-07:00

At least part of the Denver skyline. I took it from inside a museum just after watching a a fossilized stegosaurus helplessly defend her infant children from a relatively small predator. probably. More pictures to come.

Colorado Rockies

2007-10-08T22:59:00.000-07:00

My truck wants to go back here.

Lackluster Rhyming; Ear Slaves

2007-10-07T22:50:00.000-07:00

Wishes becoming mist
In an era remiss of innocence
Missing
Or envisioning
A kiss on the tips of lips
Mimicking an eclipse of mythical visions
Or depictions
Figments
Fragmented actions
Fractured by the lack of time
Or timing
Mimes chime in with their reenactment
An artistic recant of lackluster rhyming

Peeling off gauze
Pause
Cough up embalming fluid/
Grab a cup
Turn it up
Relax to this calming music
Breath grazes vocal cords
Vibrations bend air waves/
Mouth facilitates thoughts
Caught
Now you’re my ear slaves/
Hypocrisy:
Me trying to appease you
Yet I’m bound by my pen/
Tied down by flesh
Meshed with a hunger to sin/
Lend an open mind
I’m confined to the ink and its well/
I wield the pen
Yet it manipulates me when it spills/
Filled with black confessions
Guilt lessons with faults discovered/
Amazing what a “Christian” exposes when the vaults uncovered/

Masai Warriors

2007-10-07T20:33:00.000-07:00

I'm mulling over next summer's trip. Or maybe even a trip before then. I thought I'd do two things. Recap. And then look for some inspiration.
Here are some "masai warriors." Notice the watch the one on the left is wearing. Hard core.

African Elephants

2007-10-06T12:50:00.000-07:00

A picture taken while on a safari in the masai mara (southern Kenya), and one I drew. Can you tell the difference?

Me either.

Cue the Music; Blanket Seams

2007-10-01T21:40:00.000-07:00

Too many days I’ve raped this dictionary
Tearing Webster’s hymen
High pitch rhymes get violent
Ripping thighs and stitching them from abdomen to spine. Then-
Let them mend to hear you cry when spinning lines that might split
Gripping on the hemmed up seam to see your lumbar vertebrae
How they shake when words escape
Draping down your tongue and mouth and placed upon my dinner plate
Taken from your lungs to stuff my ego when our winter drapes
Racing sirens light the pavement’s paint in wasted haste to save you
Patients wait
They hate you
Scrape your place from memory to clean a lane to wade through
Thank you
But I can’t do it
To take our time and write it out would waste my day
So screw it
This avenue has brewed my fumes
I’m through
So cue the music

Our bond takes form in text
Perplexed you feel confined
Restricted minds decide a love is bound by page and rhyme/
A different frame of sight will find your grace when seen by me/
Can blind the eye of countless men when penned for all to read/
Air seeps from lungs with every passing touch your hands impart/
When love is acted out it’s seen as porn
In words it’s art/
In darkness all the boundaries of my flesh can find their peace/
The sweetness of your skin
The scent of limbs within my reach/
The morning blink of waking time displays frayed blanket seams/
Each written verse that beats your drum becomes a faded dream/
Blatant empty sheets think of your face and turn to laugh/
Mapping all your attributes
The tune
On them
Falls flat/
Grasping to the mattress for a remnant of our night/
Like all my other days this one is barren
Stripped by light/

2007-09-30T08:35:00.000-07:00

2007-09-30T08:29:00.000-07:00

fairest thoughs

2007-09-28T22:44:00.000-07:00

Despite the drive within your spine to let your spite define us
Defend the times our minds entwined and let them splice inside us
I tried to let our lips convince my system that we’re victims
Minions of some twisted script that God thought not to mention
He opted for His altered scheme to take my seed and toss it
Every vein within my being was drawn to plot with logic
I’ve conjured every way to take our chance and dash its flame
To sand away the ways I’ve dropped your odds would shame your name
All games unplayed and truth explained I lack the love to act
Indeed, to grasp ego and stroke would choke our recent past
Please seep between the letter’s words and drink the bleeding hope
Although the paper’s dressed with ink it left me needing clothes
I’m hopeful that my naked skin will heat your mind when cold
Conveying the way I hold you up is better felt than told
Fools would see the fence and let it taint the ground their lawn's on
Hold to what we’ve shared
In time the fairest thoughts get drawn on

stainless hands

2007-09-28T22:39:00.000-07:00

I’ll take my dirt black hands
Traverse this stagnant land and plant/
I’ll drag this plow
I’ll turn this earth
I’ll spurn this child’s past/
I’ll backtrack through her parent’s plight
I’ll dry and light her wick/
I’ll make her cry because it takes a break to mend a limp/
I’ll twist my fingers deep within your mind to fuel your thought/
On your behalf I’ll bleed whether I’m deemed a fool or not/
On that stance
I’m not out asking for the polished work/
I’m passing out the tools to have when standing on this earth/
So let them turn up stainless hands
With mine I’ll upturn roots/
I’ll work within a spirit strewn
That few would dare to stoop/

snugness

2007-09-24T17:21:00.000-07:00

I’m mute when telling stories
My pen guides when I’m willing/
Filling my quill with chances passed
I’m just a canvas for spilled ink/
Telling each detail precisely
Retail sales with no returning/
Be sure the shirt fits
Snugness quickly shifts to burning/
Discerning winds leave scenery naked
Bleak amid this heeding/
The smoothness of my cadence
Rapes your will to cease rereading/
Bleeding from your eyes behind the shelter of this setting/
Regret seeps from your chest as you confess the life your betting/
Unsettling
How from where I’m at I’ve seen the paths you’ve opted/
You saw the life you wanted
Saw the weight of risk
And dropped it/
Does God spit at the time you waste?
Or come away with blushed skin?/
Shrugging at the way you took His talents and just flushed them/
I’m not judging
Just be keen
That if you’re feeling angst I’ve nailed you/
Don’t fail to recognize the skin the sin of sitting sailed through/

suicide's an alibi

2007-09-17T21:51:00.000-07:00

You didn't watch me drive away?

You're always playing in realms of sight/
If light confines your mind
Let's intertwine behind the night/
Deemed blind by distance only when our flesh suppresses purpose/
With every word dispersed
With every verse conversed
You're nervous
Upturn this
It's just gibberish
I wish I lit the candle/
Instead I mold to your outline
Rhyme tied
A concept vandal/
Sound mind breaks stride
In time
Revive
Breathe life
The light rekindles/
Hymns full of my hopes are cloaked by scribbles
I'm too simple/
Too typical
Too hopeless
Take two doses of this potion/
Too logical
To neat for possibilities to grow in/
If broken oaths and promises admit the sins I foster/
Resist the thought to run
To call me altered
Or not bother/
Let good intentions teeter-totter on the scale of motives/
Stroke the callused skin with lotion
Know the yoke I've broken-/
Through the laboring in vast imagined crops of friendships planted/
Bask in fields of dreams I've hoed
And soak in stocks of passion/
Imagine every movement fastened to the goal of service/
You'll tip toe on the surface
Miss.. you're not alone when nervous/
I heard this person urging me to splurge in chances offered/
I pondered on the options till it dawned
You're someone's daughter/
I squandered opportunities
I ceded at your hair/
Please be aware that if we cross
I'm lost
I might not care/
Be leery
Hear me
Fear me greatly
Safety is my cloak/
If suicide's an alibi
Then find my lust a rope/
And know I poke and stoke the evenings spent in bashful silence/
Behind and out of sight there lies a past of rage and violence/
Aside from that I'm bent to finish sentences half said/
If you're the vein that fed my heart I drove away half bled/
I graced the pages of your book
And left with you half read/
If anxiousness bred married bliss
I walked away half wed/

have-nots in their toiling

2007-09-17T21:46:00.000-07:00

Churning winds bring tales of journeys to lands beyond the eye’s reach
Creating scenes within the mind that withstand the test of time's leech
Mimes lay siege on villages of peons paying for royalty
Foiling the schemes and dreams of the have-nots in their toiling
Boiling to the brim of lips
I can't quit this half spit folklore
Grab floor around the flame
The life it claims behind the smokes pour
Chalky condensation irritates the sane man's vision
Clouded recognition leads to dependence upon provisions
The system encourages the rich to take from those lower in the system
Depleted independence pins the sick to live unmentioned
Life unpended
Silent
Lacking last words etched on head stones
Moans are deemed irrelevant when they're echoed via deaf tones

puddled glass

2007-09-02T00:46:00.000-07:00

To be in love corrupts what untouched skin was born/
Dust forming on us covers up what hidden sin did scorn/
Sun pores before my form
Ashamed
A slave to touch/
Succumb to just one stare
Air shared
Your hair’s smooth brush/
Too rushed to soak the broken water’s puddled glass/
The humbled chats we trade become a muddled mass/
Befuddled less than sand when focused through your lens/
Unbent
You shunned your kin to measure poorer men/
Deformed within
I’ve hemmed this hinge less fence of tin/
Weighing in the list of past mishaps that caved me in/
Shave me
Rip what limbs I own that blush your cheek/
Your words beseeched upon my chest give breath to seek/
In need of just your smell
In absence deem me moot/
Like oleanders planted where the soul seeks fruit/
Remove the root of scum that plucks your hand from mine/
If nothing's left then nothing's what I want in life

rollercoasters

2007-09-02T00:20:00.000-07:00

If I only had a penny
Simply one cent for every person
Content with the dangers of my amusement park
Muses consented
As long as they were the ones having fun
For every person who had read an article
Or heard of some stranger that I’d hurt
But was unaffected because it wasn't them
That’s all I want
Just one red cent
For every person who was even a little turned on
Because they were taking that risk
The risk someone else lost on
Maybe even at their expense
All I want is a tiny piece of copper
Or whatever substitute the treasury puts in one hundredth of a dollar these deceitful days
For every person who filed a lawsuit against me
Because the ride finally broke when they were the one at the top of the rollercoaster
And all of the sudden it wasn't so funny anymore
They were being read about by the next person planning to vacation
I wouldn't have to work anymore
All you have to do now is decide which tense you are
Past
Present
Future
Where do you lie in my sentence?
When you read that last line, how did you interpret it?
There are several ways it could be read
They all say a lot about you
And whether you're just reading about the amusement park
Or if your currency is what keeps it open.

Act I

2007-08-30T23:41:00.000-07:00

brick laid on concrete
discretely built a refuge in which to hide/
wish i'd been more elite when choosing with whom to confide/
lied to
double crossed
played at my own game/
names become irrelevant
character mundane/
ashen, pale face graces the crowd
allowed nothing more than breath/
death contorts my knees as friendly arrows squeeze my chest/
press down against wilting turf
bewildered at the appearance of my aiming foe/
the physical blow becomes obselete
i eye a face i love and know/
it's over now
wow
i said it
like that it's all spoken and done/
i shun the choices i made
let's pour you some gatorade
i'm broken
you won/
this is fun
what had begun as an aquaintance becomes betrayel/
email
text
or phone call
let's all watch as friendships stale/
well, it's no ones fault right?
time eventually finds a moment to age all interractions/
we stole more than our fair share
so let's let time have satisfaction/
the slack's thin
in brief moments the taut rope will end things
well, end me if nothing else/
it fails me why i find the time to bind with those weilding pelting quills/
an iron will will only carry you so far with those bearing the same colored cloth/
my sword was dropped
when among brothern i found my lover lost/
sanity bound and locked
jot down this scribbled warning/
mourning will dribble down clouded gazes
as i raze and parade the barn storming/
ignore me if you wish
dismiss this as a wandering tirade by night/
quietly brush aside
or abide by my plight
yours will be the first matress i light/
verbally ignited
slighted as winds from the ocean blow blazes east/
pleased by the sight of corpselike ashes
two bodies pass as we relax at the great feast/
at ease
apeased
please know that together you managed to end this book/
laughter masks the task of confrontation
so change the song and skip the hook/

foreward

2007-08-30T23:12:00.000-07:00

as started on august 11th, 2003...1:02 am.

Metaphysical doors halfway creek
Seasons long past
Across my mind seep/
Leaking feelings dusted over
Still not sure if I ever loved her/
Shoved her still beneath the covers
As conflicts whispered
I muffed her
Hushed her/
Cuffed her to bedposts confined in my mind
Designed lyrical motion pictures
But they fissure because i'm blind/

Bind down my digits
Hands figit at vocabulary confusion
Contusions fade with time
Your illusion leaves me inkless/
Blessed emotional mute
Because you hear me whenever we kiss/
Words escape my pen
Rhyming patterns end
I can't write down your essence.
Within the boundaries of my notebook i can't bottle up your presence.
My poem
Like my body
Turns chaotic from your cast look/
If novels were always love stories
I'd want you to be my last book/