Mr. Dash

What's in Carl's head, kids?
That's right, worries about unrequited love!
Let's flip him upside down, shake him, and see what falls out...

Boom
condensation ice
fudgsicle skin cracks, melts warm.
does it come in blue?

smirk
childhood favorite
spread thickly across white bread.
But something's missing.

6 weeks

http://www.groundhog.org/prediction/

anniadversary
Spring is here again,
since sometimes calendars lie.
Cookies speak more truth.

camp
I like In-N-Out.
cheese, fries, and a choc'late shake.
Better when you share.

passenger
lucid mind mocks me
live those 5 point 2 seconds,
or see ev'rything?

Thetis rectifies

Ties
and rails, parallel only to themselves, and one who runs.
crunching gravel under pressure. Bare feet knock on
pressed Southern Pacific wood. Faster, stronger.
head down, eyes useless. feel the iron horse
snort miles. The line straight, no deceit.
two slats at a time, pistons hammer
their argument to unkind ballast.
Steam is the only perspiration.
Now the yards become feet,
which leave hard friction
and touch steel pilot
machine breach
engine yields
kinetic hate
breaks.

Four-finger fist

Yeah.
Uh huh.
Of course.
Jaws clench.
So, guess what?
I've forgotten how.
It doesn't matter what
it is I've forgot. It's gone.
Mind plays tricks. 52 pickup.
Sick like a smile. Maybe the flu.
Could be regret. Not sure about that.
I swallow. It's empty. My tongue is gone.
maybe carpet the narrow path with my dreams.
Gotta be good for something. You shuffle your feet.
And while walking, you reach for someone else's hand.
Zap.

Ulmo + Nienna

OK, yeah.
I wrote this, like, 3 years ago now. Why am I posting it? I'm sure if you've been reading, you'll catch my drift.

Pacific

The concrete path melts...
And there is only
grass, coast, ocean.

Shoes bite into the juicy sand
like a bitter apple.
Undertow fills the cavities,
leaving foamy circles behind
like dead jellies.

High tides try to drown the shore,
intentions like water, clear.

"Look at the waves," gulls wail,
"teal and sequined,
pristine" their beaks laugh.

The 'glamorous' ocean,
so hollow,
empty like a puppet.

I prefer the rocks.

The skipping stones and gravel
scrape-clunk aloha
as they drift on the shore.
Dull gems better
than De Beers understands.

Some pebbles just shrink
away into the murk,
glad to leave the seaside.
You can't really tell where they go;
in the ocean, I've heard
rocks roll below.

Carved, depleted,
they might return to the
saline breeze,
to rest, finally dry.

Mocked by the sea,
teased by shells,
this sand was once a
boulder.

Now, ground to grains,
scattered and swept,
drifts of snowflakes
that never melt.
The beach swims in from the water,
sun-blonde and tan
like a surfer girl.

I take some home in my shoes,
some inside.

red fire engine versus green flames

So, yeah.

Alright, so I listened to every song I have by the Pretenders at least 10 times today. Never heard of them? OK, just try "Mystery Achievement", medium-rare. If you savor the flavor, take a sip of "Message of Love". Season it all with the salt and vinegar of "Louie, Louie" and "Back on the Chain Gang". Wow, I'm either hungry or lucid. Maybe both.

There was something unclear to me last week. Not vague, like Vaseline on the lens, but more like being colorblind at a traffic light. You want to say "I can't tell what color the light is", even though you know that the light on the bottom is the green "go", and the top is the red "stop". I wanted to stomp the accelerator, or at least ease off the brake. Glad I didn't. Through a lot of prayer, mainly on Sunday, the Holy Spirit gave me a clearer, more grounded thought process. I feel like Marty McFly after not racing Needles.
Funny how my deepest hopes and fears can be summed up with some punk-y rock songs and a glib reference to a time-travel movie.
Now, I ask for prayer and strength. I was spared this week, but what's next? My weakness ain't being called "chicken", but it's just as hard to stare down.
(My conscience starts talking to me) "The Lord is your Shepherd, lamb-boy -- trust Him. Being a Christian isn't easy, but He lives within your heart for that reason."
He's right you know. Wish I could come up with stuff like that.

Copper attracts lightning

Hey all you faithful readers out there.
I love watching my 'views' count go up, and yet, no comments. It's like seeing an empty "take a penny, leave a penny" tray.
Well, here's my two cents worth. Toss 'em into the well, make a wish.
(BTW, I wrote this following Jim Simmerman's "20 Little Poetry Projects" idea, which is why there are numbers. Ask me if you want the guide list...)

Pop Song
Trust is a bubble	1
blown from the inside.	12
Snowflake on the tongue,
tastes like music that won't stop.	4, 3
Confidence is
the last stop of limerence	11, 8
Bubbles burst because I exist.	9
But you can't see what never were.	3, 10
You don't have a lap when you stand.	17, 7
Even James Randi can't sniff out that trick.	3, 5
Feel the glossy sphere that you made,	3
a net, or possibly a screen.
When you pay attention,	2
caveat emptor.	2, 18
You can always hear	3
bubbles being filled for free.
Bubbles are not yours--	6
right now, eager solution in a bottle,	16
an unopened can with dreams.	19
the effervescent kind, doesn't go flat.	13
And it will be filled with the same breath	15
that made nothing-man from dust	14
when He knows you're ready.
Don't worry, just listen.	20

Not without incident

Yeah... I love haikus.
Poetry's the best way to
speak without talking.


My two eyes are not
the only ones in my head.
Now what do I do?

Haiku

Fire bad

Grab the frying pan -
No pain just for reaching out.
Still, use the handle.


Bacon

To be or not to
be yourself when around her;
that is the question.


Farside

I like vanilla,
And I think you do as well.
Of course you exist.

Asperger's and jellybeans

I lift my head, and looked into those eyes. I'm starting to notice something. It's familiar, and blessedly kind to me. I have to keep praying about it. But these are some of my past thoughts around this time o' year. When did I stop looking for it?

(actual journal entry from 3/28/94 8:55 pm)
today we played with David G.I. Joes on the porch, Wish Jeremy still lived in Park. I like my G.I. Joe's.

OK, I was still pretty much a little kid. Maybe the next year's entry. Oh wait, I have one in January '95, then June '95 (BTW, between those two dates is when I started noticing girls as attractive). Let's jump to the next year.

(actual journal entry from 4/05/96 10:28 pm)
V-B team didn't work out. went to Disneyland on 4/1/96 and LOVED it. If ever I get a girl-friend, I would take her there, 'cuz it's a great, magical, fantastic place. Iguess I'm too shy `r sumpthin', but I don't have guts to talk to anyone in H.S. If X could only know how much I like her, maybe She would like me back.

Well, I never told X how much I liked her. Will I ever tell some girl my true feelings? Probably, but I bet she won't like me back. (clutching my chest) Ow! My cynicism's acting up again!

(actual journal entry from 3/27/97 10:36 pm)
The EdgeOnLine is soo cool! There are alot of H.S. students and staff on the 50 list! I really wish I was cooler, or more muscular, or sumpthin'. Talked to Krista an' Patrick some, and Clyde alot. K. an' P. don't have e-mail!
I really want to have some girl like me... Sometimes I just feel like I'm not accepted or welcome, and I hate that. There are alot of people I know, and don't know in H.S. I gotta meet more people.

Sound familiar? I am back there in spirit, this very hour. I apologize to God for it. I must not embrace my human, sinful desires to socialize and be popular. I have to learn how to make friends without trying to be special.
Maybe all that matters is see who comes into view, in my periphery. Like Rick Holland's classic line about dating, "run full speed towards God, and then... look around and see who's running full speed too".
(Eph. 6:15) Time to lace 'em up.

Catharsis is addictive

All right, second day in a row with my weak thinking.

chewing glass
for more than an hour
hurts,
and I'm pretty sure that I'm biting down
on some of my teeth
along with the shards.
the hard part is
not swallowing those pieces along with
all the blood and saliva.
fluids critical to proper oral hygiene
mingle, earthy and humid.
So, as you watch me drool foamy red,
and wince with every bite,
don't tell me to stop;
chewing is all that I have.
Just get me a pack of Juicy Fruit
and some Listerine.