Review or Discard at Will

Getting Over Building Bridges

Getting Over Building Bridges

May 13, 2013

At the Infuse -Open Mic MAY 12 Every SECOND Sundy event in Phoenix, Arizona I read the following. Thank you Lalli for hosting and snapping an image of me with my camera. Sure hope I can share this in Spokane, Washington at the Broken mic where I read my first poem in public. Bummed that I can’t hem and haw to introduce my latent flaw so here I go with this tale lagin soon be waggin in a wagon pulled by the dragOnIng.A breath of fresh air into my soul by my writing, with my reading, granted by your listening. Building bridges to get on over it, is a good thing when there’s something to be getting over, something needs your attention, something in your process needs the attention of your reflection. But I’m finding in this time I need to be getting over building bridges to just be getting along on the roads that lay past those reflections, those bridges to get on over.l don’t need to tax myself to build another bridge I just need to be on the road where and when the road might be. Netflix streaming “Hustle and Flow” I’m sitting paralyzed wondering where to go. Next. Next vexing me until I Think it’s about time I quit whining bout building bridges to get over it and start getting over building bridges for my wondering what wound I’m crying about! I need to lay some concrete foundation for this bridge, I don’t want to build forever never. A nice little walk on down the road. May as well enjoy the flow, I ain’t dancing the Hustle no more. Apparently I ain’t that hurting, gota escape this winding whining. Idle too long gone tharn in the headlights of the inevitable reaping, don’t need to be running with Scythe in hand ‘neither. Free styling for my next line it’ don’t take me fifty cents to usher in the realization that I’m not Marshaled in a haystack.I will find that pin to pick the lock into the future. Getting’ over building bridges. Enthused by some direction, Infused by open...

This mornings micro joust

It’s kind of interesting that as I grow closer to the problem I feel the answer slip away perhaps obscured by it’s enormity and/or my proximity whose vantage point does not allow me to see that big question that eludes answer, that exudes question that twists and turns in my mind to jumble up in left down out right obfuscation. But is it the answer that I can not find? I think not because as I write read and publish this to coalesce my thoughts in one place and time it occurs that I don’t know the question! Or in the search for answering lost the question? Still I feel that’s it’s not that enormous and that the elusiveness of that answer may be obscured by my fear of failure which may actually be a fear of success. And now another thought occurs to me that if I don’t pursue a question does it exist? Perhaps the answer eludes because the question does not exist! Alternately an enormous answer I look for can’t be found for such a simple question. I wonder if I’m just caught up again in wondering what is the meaning of life? And so close to that wondering am not seeing the proverbial forest for the tree? Or the tree for the forest? Me thinks it’s time to stop and smell the roses. At any rate I feel lighter now at the end of this telling of the mornings micro quest. Thanks for listening in your reading. June 8, 2011 –...

Storm

I am up late,  @bleroy tweeted a link to Tim Minchin’s “Storm” beat poem. I hope the #spokane community as exemplified by Spokane Poetry Slam get’s to see this. a related video is this cool time-lapse creation of the animated character...

Farce Monstre

Farce Monstre © 2011 jeffa   This is a first second draft. Comments welcome. I made up a few of the words. As I write this I imagine I’m reading it to you rather than you reading it. Watch out poetry slam! With my every viewing or participation of Facebook the dichotometric thread of my existence between the analog blood and tissue me and the imposition of the digital impersonation of that existence in a silicon world thins to a point nearing twang! Don’t worry I will not climb a clock tower, only postal employees do that. Right? To paraphrase Number six of “The Prisoner” “I am a free man, I am not an internet protocol number” – is that in my own mind.!? Now I ask you why should you be a friend if I hardly know you? Can’t you be an acquaintance? A friend would be a so much more if “Discount Anime art” were merely an acquaintance. Why do I have to like someone let alone something? Why can’t I “not dislike”, “neutral”, or “dislike” said someone or something? Consider this, can you answer any question phrased as: “What is your favorite ___?” with a single word in response? Like (unintendedpun) for instance how can anyone have just one favorite color? I guess my single favorite color would be grey monochromatically speaking or purple polychromaticly. Those color choices being amalgam of all the colors in their respective mono or poly chromasticity narrowed to a single choice. Ya see I can’t narrow it to one even in this diatribmatic oratory. Even as I exchange positive experiences, feelings and ideas with you, by my sharing in the social media, the faceMonster ingests more of me to regurgitate back to me as chum baiting me further as I cannibalize my own Soylent green self to vainly supply it’s ever increasingly insatiable hunger of deceit, deception and distortion to engage me to click on yet another button, the button “Farce Monstre” “proceed to checkout” © 2011 jeffa   Comments very much encouraged! I will post this here at www.rodaw.com and on www.grb2012.com  (I’ll have to move learning about cross posting up higher on my to...

Wee Small Hours

October 12, 2010 0408 In the wee small hours I might perceive moments of clarity that fade as I look for pen or keyboard. Perhaps after several, of these perceived moments of clarity in the wee small hours these perceived perceptions of clarity may gather long enough for me to coral a few with paper or computer program to remember or dismember or to distribute to other members and visitors of the wee small hours.   Time invested in learning living these days and years since awakening from the self induced coma offer skills to asses where I am in time, in space, in mind. I ask myself: “am I in line?” Or merely queuing, queerly quarrying queries? Shall I continue to pine? Or to mine to find and walk a thin line this time towards lengthening these moments of perceived clarity and find myself living in these moments, not previously, not ahead – yet not just of this moment but all the moments with NOW right here at the epicenter. Once again I am reminded: “Be here now” that I have so often spoken, often in jest as: “Be there then” and also remembering something I think wise: “It’s the journey, not the destination”. Perhaps to keep them both in mind I might combine: “Be the journey” Thank you Obi-Wan Kenobi of my mind. In this wee small hour I found the time to take a snapshot, to record a glimpse of these thoughts to share. and in so doing this writing and too the sharing perhaps give caring. Ahh the wee small hours fading now as dawn wakens the day. Thank you time, thank you coma, thank you awakening, thank you wee small hours. It’s nice to have kept these glimmerings of perception in the foreground of my mind long enough for these moments of living here now as I compose this snapshot, recording this glimmering I perceive as clarity. In this way I look forward to many more sleepless nights, as I look to find and record the words of thoughts I may want to keep to think again in that foreground of my mind. Banging my head against a wall...

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