Nothings coming. What I know of the world is bottlenecked behind my insufficient talent. If I could conjure the urgency of my heart into a single sentence or simply describe the hummingbirds nectared lance spearing the contents of a blossom while a tom cat pads toward him through the peonies. Hell, Id drink to that. But I cant conjure an opener, not a trickle of truth, let alone a stream of unconsciousness made conscious by a paragraph that proves we still have our humanity, inalienable from our flesh, as long as there is a glass of even-filled to offer a toast, soil and sun, toil and trouble, the intoxication of summer days spent down by the river, young-limbed and bramble wild, splashing through the current, stealing the first kisses in battered pick-up trucks with Patsy playing and one knee painstaked against the steering wheel. What was her name who dared to wetly whisper your favorite tune into your ear, with the scar on her hip, and the father that died in a grassfire? We all yalp sweetly and mark an X in our own way to state we are alive. Patience. Of course faith ferments, if you sit on your green urgency too long. But whats the hurry? Have a sip of wine, swish it across your tongue. What we all know of sorrow, let this moment stand as fruitful enough. Edit later.
~RMA
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Monday, April 3, 2006
Before me a bottle...
Before me a bottle, a corkscrew, an empty glass. Do I dare? This is a magic vintage, and my spirit weakens from the remembering. The bottle-temptress is green, smoky-green, green of lichens and cool thickets where lovers escape from parched Augusts and prying eyes. Green of layered petticoats hiding soft and voluptuous shapes, a liquid-like rustling that hints at meadows full of birdsong and fountains sweet to please. Green beaker of hope, you are the throb of cult mysteries. You are raw emeralds and the drum of approaching thunder. I tremble before your dark green depths, your swollen blood reds and delicious overripe blacks. O beautiful red-breathed fairy in your green glass gown, nymph of golden-spurred drunkenness, handmaiden of couplets and charms, when I lift your mouth to make you mine you need no coaxing: inch by inch you reveal your naked scarlet self, a cloudburst of pinks and blushes, a torrent of flesh-soft rubies crushed together in a midnight lake of shimmers and crimson licks. I put my lips to your yearning pools and drink. Drink! Your peppered velvets soften my tongue, my grateful throat. When I taste you I taste springtime and rain, violets and eternity, your liquid soul a deep dim of colliding nights and secret harbors. When I taste you you make my mouth electric, and shock my words with lightening. I steady my pen, desperate to describe the heavenly lift of your burgundy wings. But first, another sip
~ZA
~ZA
Wednesday, January 4, 2006
Yes, Chuck. I, too, will post your praises.
Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried.
Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.
Chuck Norris does not hunt because the word hunting infers the probability of failure. Chuck Norris goes killing.
If you can see Chuck Norris, he can see you. If you can't see Chuck Norris you may be only seconds away from death.
Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.
Chuck Norris is currently suing NBC, claiming Law and Order are trademarked names for his left and right legs.
The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.
Chuck Norris ordered a Big Mac at Burger King, and got one.
Chuck Norris counted to infinity - twice.
When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.
To prove it isn't that big of a deal to beat cancer. Chuck Norris smoked 15 cartons of cigarettes a day for 2 years and acquired 7 different kinds of cancer only to rid them from his body by flexing for 30 minutes. Beat that, Lance Armstrong.
Chuck Norris built a time machine and went back in time to stop the JFK assassination. As Oswald shot, Chuck met all three bullets with his beard, deflecting them. JFK's head exploded out of sheer amazement.
A blind man once stepped on Chuck Norris' shoe. Chuck replied, "Don't you know who I am? I'm Chuck Norris!" The mere mention of his name cured this man blindness. Sadly the first, last, and only thing this man ever saw, was a fatal roundhouse delivered by Chuck Norris.
Chuck Norris can touch MC Hammer.
When Chuck Norris sends in his taxes, he sends blank forms and includes only a picture of himself, crouched and ready to attack. Chuck Norris has not had to pay taxes ever.
Chuck Norris once ate three 72 oz. steaks in one hour. He spent the first 45 minutes having sex with his waitress.
Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.
Chuck Norris is not hung like a horse... horses are hung like Chuck Norris
Chuck Norris sleeps with a night light. Not because Chuck Norris is afraid of the dark, but the dark is afraid of Chuck Norris
As a teen Chuck Norris impregnated every nun in a convent tucked away in the hills of Tuscany. Nine months later the nuns gave birth to the 1972 Miami Dolphins, the only undefeated and untied team in professional football history.
Chuck Norris likes to knit sweaters in his free time. And by "knit", I mean "kick", and by "sweaters", I mean "babies".
A Handicap parking sign does not signify that this spot is for handicapped people. It is actually in fact a warning, that the spot belongs to Chuck Norris and that you will be handicapped if you park there.
Chuck Norris always has sex on the first date. Always.
Chuck Norris is 1/8th Cherokee. This has nothing to do with ancestry, the man ate a fucking Indian.
Someone once tried to tell Chuck Norris that roundhouse kicks aren't the best way to kick someone. This has been recorded by historians as the worst mistake anyone has ever made.
Chuck Norris died ten years ago, but the Grim Reaper can't get up the courage to tell him.
Chuck Norris lost his virginity before his dad did.
At birth, Chuck Norris came out feet first so he could roundhouse kick the doctor in the face. Nobody delivers Chuck Norris but Chuck Norris
Chuck Norris does not teabag the ladies. He potato-sacks them.
Chuck Norris once ate a whole cake before his friends could tell them there was a stripper in it
Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.
Chuck Norris does not hunt because the word hunting infers the probability of failure. Chuck Norris goes killing.
If you can see Chuck Norris, he can see you. If you can't see Chuck Norris you may be only seconds away from death.
Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.
Chuck Norris is currently suing NBC, claiming Law and Order are trademarked names for his left and right legs.
The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.
Chuck Norris ordered a Big Mac at Burger King, and got one.
Chuck Norris counted to infinity - twice.
When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.
To prove it isn't that big of a deal to beat cancer. Chuck Norris smoked 15 cartons of cigarettes a day for 2 years and acquired 7 different kinds of cancer only to rid them from his body by flexing for 30 minutes. Beat that, Lance Armstrong.
Chuck Norris built a time machine and went back in time to stop the JFK assassination. As Oswald shot, Chuck met all three bullets with his beard, deflecting them. JFK's head exploded out of sheer amazement.
A blind man once stepped on Chuck Norris' shoe. Chuck replied, "Don't you know who I am? I'm Chuck Norris!" The mere mention of his name cured this man blindness. Sadly the first, last, and only thing this man ever saw, was a fatal roundhouse delivered by Chuck Norris.
Chuck Norris can touch MC Hammer.
When Chuck Norris sends in his taxes, he sends blank forms and includes only a picture of himself, crouched and ready to attack. Chuck Norris has not had to pay taxes ever.
Chuck Norris once ate three 72 oz. steaks in one hour. He spent the first 45 minutes having sex with his waitress.
Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.
Chuck Norris is not hung like a horse... horses are hung like Chuck Norris
Chuck Norris sleeps with a night light. Not because Chuck Norris is afraid of the dark, but the dark is afraid of Chuck Norris
As a teen Chuck Norris impregnated every nun in a convent tucked away in the hills of Tuscany. Nine months later the nuns gave birth to the 1972 Miami Dolphins, the only undefeated and untied team in professional football history.
Chuck Norris likes to knit sweaters in his free time. And by "knit", I mean "kick", and by "sweaters", I mean "babies".
A Handicap parking sign does not signify that this spot is for handicapped people. It is actually in fact a warning, that the spot belongs to Chuck Norris and that you will be handicapped if you park there.
Chuck Norris always has sex on the first date. Always.
Chuck Norris is 1/8th Cherokee. This has nothing to do with ancestry, the man ate a fucking Indian.
Someone once tried to tell Chuck Norris that roundhouse kicks aren't the best way to kick someone. This has been recorded by historians as the worst mistake anyone has ever made.
Chuck Norris died ten years ago, but the Grim Reaper can't get up the courage to tell him.
Chuck Norris lost his virginity before his dad did.
At birth, Chuck Norris came out feet first so he could roundhouse kick the doctor in the face. Nobody delivers Chuck Norris but Chuck Norris
Chuck Norris does not teabag the ladies. He potato-sacks them.
Chuck Norris once ate a whole cake before his friends could tell them there was a stripper in it
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Butt Worms Suck
I was once awakened from a sound, pleasant bout of somnambulance only to find a three‑lipped, ringed worm sticking out of my butt, eating cheerios with strawberries sliced up on top. While amazed by it's intelligence and agility (especially for a annelid), I couldn't help but be the slightest bit disgusted.
I took a pencil from my nightstand and began the tedious chore of wrapping the worm around it, allowing me to turn the pencil, pulling the worm out of my rectum as it wound around the pencil. I didn't want to pull it out too quickly, for fear of ripping it, leaving part of a dead worm in my digestive track. The worm itself was surprisingly long ‑about 350 ft, as it turned out. This task lasted approximately 17 hours, until about 7 PM the next evening.
Needless to say, I was exhausted by this point; and so fell quickly into a deep sleep. Unfortunately, I forgot to dispose of the foul brute, which was piled several feet high by my side. At about 4:30 the next morning, I was again roused by the demon beast chewing on my leg. By that point he was already up to the knee cap.
But that was a long time ago, and now Harvey and I see each other frequently. He moved into an apartment down the hall. We play racquetball on Thursdays (incredible what they can do with prosthetics these days). But the bastard cheats when we play bridge. And that's why I think that butt worms suck.
I took a pencil from my nightstand and began the tedious chore of wrapping the worm around it, allowing me to turn the pencil, pulling the worm out of my rectum as it wound around the pencil. I didn't want to pull it out too quickly, for fear of ripping it, leaving part of a dead worm in my digestive track. The worm itself was surprisingly long ‑about 350 ft, as it turned out. This task lasted approximately 17 hours, until about 7 PM the next evening.
Needless to say, I was exhausted by this point; and so fell quickly into a deep sleep. Unfortunately, I forgot to dispose of the foul brute, which was piled several feet high by my side. At about 4:30 the next morning, I was again roused by the demon beast chewing on my leg. By that point he was already up to the knee cap.
But that was a long time ago, and now Harvey and I see each other frequently. He moved into an apartment down the hall. We play racquetball on Thursdays (incredible what they can do with prosthetics these days). But the bastard cheats when we play bridge. And that's why I think that butt worms suck.
Tuesday, August 9, 2005
Spam-ku
Pink tender morsel,
Glistening with salty gel.
What the hell is it?
Ears, snouts and innards,
A homogeneous mass.
Pass another slice.
Cube of cold pinkness
Yellow specks of porcine fat.
Give me a spork please.
Old man seeks doctor.
"I eat SPAM daily", says he.
Angioplasty.
Quite unnatural,
The tortured shape of this "food":
A small pink coffin.
Sliding from the can
Fully saturated fat
Makes me want to retch
Monday, August 8, 2005
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Internalizing.
Despite getting 8 hours of sleep for 2 nights in a row, I am still too tired. At least the bags that have camped out under my eyes have decided to pack up and leave...wake me up in a few months.
I had an interview today...a phone interview. It went extremely well. I called a plethora of contacts this morning to ask what to expect, and with that info, I started to answer the questions of what to expect. Wrote it all on one sheet of paper. Then, when asked during my interview, I could spew out the answer by reading what I had previously written. Would you believe that ALL the questions my friends told me to expect were asked during my interview? Even Noah couldn't have planned better..
It's hot outside. My a/c is broken. At least July will be over soon, which means that at least we're closer to comfortable temperatures than before. I decided to wear black to work today. Yes, it was short-sleeved....but black? with a heat index of 1 Billion? I'm a dolt. Tomorrow I wear my cargo shorts and a wife beater. Sure, I may be asked to go home and change...but that's not a bad price to pay for a short moment of comfort.
Tonight, I drink wine with my friend, Shell. She loves wine almost as much as me....maybe more. We met for a midday iced coffee extravaganza yesterday. She called me crabby. I was, but not now. I internalize alot. Today, I internalized my fear of interviews. For once, I choose to leave my personal life indecisions alone. It's nice.
I had an interview today...a phone interview. It went extremely well. I called a plethora of contacts this morning to ask what to expect, and with that info, I started to answer the questions of what to expect. Wrote it all on one sheet of paper. Then, when asked during my interview, I could spew out the answer by reading what I had previously written. Would you believe that ALL the questions my friends told me to expect were asked during my interview? Even Noah couldn't have planned better..
It's hot outside. My a/c is broken. At least July will be over soon, which means that at least we're closer to comfortable temperatures than before. I decided to wear black to work today. Yes, it was short-sleeved....but black? with a heat index of 1 Billion? I'm a dolt. Tomorrow I wear my cargo shorts and a wife beater. Sure, I may be asked to go home and change...but that's not a bad price to pay for a short moment of comfort.
Tonight, I drink wine with my friend, Shell. She loves wine almost as much as me....maybe more. We met for a midday iced coffee extravaganza yesterday. She called me crabby. I was, but not now. I internalize alot. Today, I internalized my fear of interviews. For once, I choose to leave my personal life indecisions alone. It's nice.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Staticky.
i have staticky hair when it's cold out. So why, on this hot, humid day does my hair decide to be a bastard? i used to think it was me. then I found out it's not. i picked up my daughter from big school to find she had the same problem. Emma. Emma is cute with staticky hair. I found a dryer sheet in my clothes hamper that was sitting in my front seat and rubbed it on her head. I heard that it works. Her hair smells like a springtime breeze now. it's still staticky, but not as much. I tried it too. Same. Springtime breeze and semi-staticky.
i had a nice weekend. emma and i drew pictures with her crayons. she drew a pig and a rabbit. I drank wine. I drink wine every night. Just a glass, though. Unless i have company or i go somewhere. I kept emma up past her bedtime on Friday. she normally goes to bed at 8. She went to bed at 9. She sang until 10. I love my emma. I call her monkey. I call everything monkey. Everything smaller than me, at least.
i had a nice weekend. emma and i drew pictures with her crayons. she drew a pig and a rabbit. I drank wine. I drink wine every night. Just a glass, though. Unless i have company or i go somewhere. I kept emma up past her bedtime on Friday. she normally goes to bed at 8. She went to bed at 9. She sang until 10. I love my emma. I call her monkey. I call everything monkey. Everything smaller than me, at least.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Champion Idealist
I took a Myers-Briggs Personality Assessment online about 3 years ago. The results of the test were that I was an ENFP. I took it again this morning and it came out the same. I derive great pleasure in knowing that my personality doesn't change much. I guess it's that whole consistency thing I can appreciate. So, what is an ENFP? Besides Extroverted, iNtuitive, Feeling, and Perceiving, Keirsey.com says that I am a "Champion Idealist". Such a BIG title. Sounds hard to live up to, quite honestly. ENFP's are abstract in thought and speech, cooperative in accomplishing their aims, and informative and extraverted when relating with others. The interesting thing is, the entire definition of ENFP on any website I went to gave the perfect description of who I am. I couldn't disagree with a single thing. Not bad. If only other surveys online could do the same thing......
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Discombobulated
Today I lost my bloginity. It did not hurt, nor did I leave feeling taken adantage of. It took me a long time to figure out who I would lose it to...Xanga, Friendster, Blogspot, Livejournal, MySpace.... I couldn't go on looks alone. Oh no...it had to be more special than that. Personality played a big part. So here I am....on Blogspot...humping away on my keyboard...ready to release the load on my mind.
More to come...
More to come...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)