Monday, February 05, 2007

the angels lift me up as the bones in my heart shatter.


A
utumn’s end


For quite some time I see,
how everything is transforming itself.
Something stands up and acts
and kills and inflicts suffering.

From time to time
all the gardens are not the same
from the yellowing to the yellow’s
slow decay:
how long the way was for me.


Now I am at the clearings
and look over the boulevards.
Almost as far as to the distant seas
the solemn, heavy
denying heaven can I see.
R.M. Rilke, between 1902-06
....................................................................................................................................................

there is a growling scary, scary noise beyond the mountains of this Las Vegas Valley.

...................................................................................................................................................

first and foremost I would like to address a few questions from one of my only fans... the very lovely... Sheri.

She asked:

1. u have always been (at least when i knew u ) a wonderful person, y always so dark? 2. do you write for fun or is it something you do/ want to do ? (journalism, newspaper, magazines)

1. Thank you for the "wonderful person" remark. Since you last saw me, High school, I have been through some very rough times. Not to get into detail but to be brief... Drugs, Alcohol and things that make me very sad to be the person who did some of the deed's I have done. I truly wish I was a "wonderful" person. But I just can't see it. I feel that I am atoning for past sins and trying to balance out the very bad Karma I have brought about with some good (i.e. working with at-risk youth and what not) but feel I still have a long, long time of suffering to go through to even out. Also, as I grew older the Chemical Imbalance (Bi-Polar Disorder) I live with has only gotten worse. I refuse to take pills (which is a constant argument with my very patient wife) because I fear it will take the little personality I have and turn me into the amazing, living, breathing, walking... zombie. My severe mood swings usually jump between agitation/anger to Depression/Hopelessness to Levity/Hyper Active Happy to downright mean spirited.
When I write I am processing a good amount of those negative demon's... Does it work? Once in a blue moon. It is usually hard for me to write when elated, as I just want to spend those "good" moments with my beautiful son and wife. While when I am in the negative I find it is best if I am alone as to not hurt anybodies feelings and take my sour disposition out on the unassuming passerby.
I am sure you remember the wise cracking smart ass I was as a younger man. I am still in here but I have four other guys in here that just don't appreciate a comedic prankster.

2. As to your second question... It is my all time dream to be published. The stuff you are seeing in these blogs are part of my 9th book of poetry and prose, titled "My Ghosts suddenly gone, after getting used to the haunting". I would love to be a writer (as a profession that earns livelihood) in any sense of the word. Journalism, Newspaper, Magazine and more/other. I just don't know how to even get noticed by potential publisher's, and of course there is the issue that I think my poetry and prose is utter crap. Yes, most people say "If you dislike your own writing so much why not just give up?", my response: "If you don't like the smell in the air, do you just quite breathing?" This Blog is my way to promote myself in the hopes that if I had enough regular readers they may be persuaded/tricked into actually buying writing as of now yet to be seen by the public eye. My dream is a simple one... I don't want to be super famous... I just want to do what I love, and take care of my family doing it. Charles Bukowski (A personal hero) in my mind is the perfect example. As an older man he paid bills with his poetry and it took him on book reading tours around the globe. He would sit at a table with a bottle of wine, getting utterly trashed, slurring his words while reading his poems, sometimes taking a break to hurl insults at the audience... all while paying his bills and returning to his home he paid for to write in comfort with his protective wife and troublesome cats. Sorry, this is probably much more than you actually wanted to know I'm sure... but it felt good to explain for a bit. The simple question to your answer: Yes it is for fun (and therapy) and I would love to write in any aspect as a career.
And Sheri, thanks for actually sticking with my writing and being a loyal reader. I truly appreciate it. It's people like you that help my little frightening muse stay alive and kicking.

...

Good Night

Captain PirateFace

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