"Entropic Beings" (P.o.t.D. 12/31/16)

As the years add up,
The sun and tears carve wrinkles -
Momentos to be seen in the morning mirror.

The skin grows so thin
That a simple scratch draws blood,
And the heart grows weary
From the losses it carries...

Speeches fall apart
And the disconnect is so acute.
There may be wisdom, but it hidden
Under the chaos born
Of making sense of this world forlorn.

Yesterday is quickly forgotten,
When weaved into the tapestry
Of so many poignant moments gotten
Livng in the decades
Of this rat-race Modern Age.

not a very happy poem -
the physical aches and pains
are stark reminders
I'm not young again.
"I yearn for comforts,
As I march to oblivion..."

"3 a.m. and I scratch..." (P.o.t.D. 12/30/16)

How can I convey...?

Sensory input - visual cortex sparking..
sounds noted in passing..
language but a footnote?

could i draw the world i perceive
instead of beating my fingers
into bloody pulps
pounding on the keyboard
quoting this or that quote
sharing some inspiration
or maybe another dad joke?

i walk.. a lot..
really! quite a lot..
i see things,
and they rarely trigger
memories of yesterday
or plans for tomorrow...

just another house here,
maybe the same one
i've passed a thousand times...
and a bush here,
maybe a little bushier
or bedecked in christmas lights...

images flashing through my brain
rarely causing concern or blame -
memories now, of creeks followed
as a teen
in cow pastures, alone,
at the city limits

i realize this is rambling
i realize these are words,
so foreign, so not me...
my family knows me as the silent one -
though I doubt many would think that
who see me today...

so i pound at the keyboard
and wrack my brain
while taking solace
in foreign music keeping me sane?
oops - attempting to get poetic...

see, to borrow from Blade Runner,
"I see things..."
If it's not in my sight,
Then it's likely not in mind?
A curse of Facebook
Is that I see old friends and lost loves
Who I doubt I'll ever
Share a room with again -
Maybe that stirs up pesky memory,
Maybe that sharpens solitude's pains...

I was thinking how hard it can be
To give flight to my inner voice,
To speak without relying
Upon our possibly shared cultural contexts

Maybe that's why
writing components were such a bear for me -
i just had no clue
what i had in common
with these liberal arts professors

I like to share far and wide,
Not that I've bought the quotes
Hook, line, and sinker -
but because
I'm often a perturbed thinker...
I'd love to know what
my friends and neighbors
feel, support, or distrust

science tells me
i can interact with the world,
and usually get the same results
for the same interactions...
often born out
by my own experience -
you know, 2 + 2 = 4
(most of the time)
i'm still not sure
about g and 9.81
problems with physics at RLM...

so... I walk, I see things,
I add some music, too...
partly to withdraw,
partly to entertain -
thankfully I'm blessed
that most songs
don't get stuck in repeat
in the workings of my brain...

I do not obsess... much...
in third grade,
i dreamed of a grand life
with my then-current crush -
that faded with time,
but still would flare up later...
although, as a teen,
my mind crowded with crushes,
such is raging testosterone, eh?

as the years have piled on,
love, or lust, seems to be fading -
I'm thankful for that...
much easier to talk again?

i don't think it's self-centered,
because I usually care
quite a bit about who or what's around me -
but it is very localized
as it's so rare to think
about people i've never met

back to dreams
i hear i talk in my sleep
I think I've heard my talk in my sleep
it reminds me
Of late-stage Alzheimer's...

add to that
difficulties remembering
people's names,
and who really said what...
(and Grandma's illnesses)

and hope just pops,
my brain thinks not in speech
so my curse will be
to never be understood,
to share grunts and grumbles
and then be mistook
for another crazy man's mumbles

shuttered off
to die slowly
in some dark, dank closet.

meh. trying to get dramatic?
no clue if you "get this" -
ain't that the point? -

my strength and my weakness
is that I can not predict
what it is you want me to say...

Why use others' quotes?
Well, why reinvent the wheel?
If they work, use them...

I'm so single that I'm one letter away from a shocking experience...

I'm so single that I must be The One...

I'm so single that Kraft models their cheese after me...

3 mantra words for 2017

First thoughts on my 3 mantras, to focus on, while living in 2017:

1) Dependable
2) Nutrition
3) Play

"Dwindling down" (P.o.t.D. 12/29/16)

My poor eyelids feel oh so heavy
While these love songs are gently playing -
On my headphones, all through my phone -
By a good friend's quirky suggested lady
With a jazzy, Caribbean, or rhumba beat..?

My eyes are itchy and raw,
Craving comfort of a cool bed,
After a long sweltering Texas day
Running all around to get ahead...

My brain is so tired,
From a sugar induced coma
From eating too much food...

My mind is wired,
Always craving more, more...

My words falter...

"Whirlwinds of Your Passion" (P.o.t.D. 12/28/16)

There was this frightened whisper
That turned into a loud roar...

Winds lifted the defeated
While rain slashed in a downpour.

All hoped he'd be unseated
Yet chaos ran its mad course.

Now, beaten and burned crisper,
Our voices croak, like frogs, hoarse.

Gas pumps, glowing bright
At night, waiting to be used
Like cheap prostitutes?

"Today's Poems?" (P.o.t.D. 12/27/16)

I wrote a haiku.
I felt it was in poor taste.
So, then I hid it.

Words are weapons; wield them with awareness....

"Trust the television..." (P.o.t.D. 12/26/16)

As the TV blares in the background,
With no one there to watch it,
It feels so lonely
Because it used to give us
A false sense of company...

Now, it's all puffed-up nonsense
Spreading across the news,
Because our attention -
It does not want to lose...

The box plays on as we sleep,
Because we want to tune out
Our family fights, so deep...

Because it used to protect us
From being socially awkward...?

"Why fight?" (P.o.t.D. 12/26/16)

what do you do with a bully?

you ostracize them,
cast them out of the social circle...

and yet...

what if they redouble their violence?
what if they feel
the only way to get noticed again
is to harm themselves or others?

violence is bizarre -
some would hurt or kill their spouse,
and i don't understand why?

humans are beasts
with beast instincts
to fight
as well as to flight
not all of it is self-defence?

to be ignored
because you create dischord
in another's world view -

and I recall,
"Shake the dust from your sandals
and go to the next city"

and, yet...
the illusion of permanence
has me clinging to the past...

so i can see that a bully
cares somewhat for their glories,
and doesn't see how to change
so they'll fight and fight again.

(or twweet and tweet -
pardon the politics, please...)

or is it,
"I feel hurt,
so I'm going to hurt you"
retribution driving the violence?

or,
"No one respects me;
So I'm going to
force my will upon them?"

No idea, really...
violence is not something I enjoy.

Why do I want to understand anger?
self-defense, maybe?
to know how to diffuse it,
when it becomes directed at me,
or my friends and neighbors?

"broken pieces" (P.o.t.D. 12/25/16)

Broken pieces
Cloistered away
(Like monks?)
Deep inside
A rocky stone-face...

causing wrinkles to appear with their weight
causing the eyes to scan, scan, scan the ground
as i shuffle my way, ever walking, everywhere
everywhere around this "beautiful town"

the pieces come out, these nights,
as i try to write and write -
"Here! Let me show you a bit of my frights!"

when i'm around friends and family,
i feel much less of the pieces' pains,
only to be kept awake at night,
as they surface when i'm alone again.

it's so easy to delude myself,
to get sucked in -
thinking i'm a string of failures,
or disease wins...

but i'm not really broken,
i am not simply bipolar...
i am gifted and so much more.
I hope these broken pieces will soften
and my mind will be at ease,
I think I can win this war...

The hunger devours,
Like looking upon
Hastur unmasked...

“I can believe things that are true and things that aren't true and I can believe things where nobody knows if they're true or not.

I can believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and the Beatles and Marilyn Monroe and Elvis and Mister Ed. Listen - I believe that people are perfectable, that knowledge is infinite, that the world is run by secret banking cartels and is visited by aliens on a regular basis, nice ones that look like wrinkled lemurs and bad ones who mutilate cattle and want our water and our women.

I believe that the future sucks and I believe that the future rocks and I believe that one day White Buffalo Woman is going to come back and kick everyone's ass. I believe that all men are just overgrown boys with deep problems communicating and that the decline in good sex in America is coincident with the decline in drive-in movie theaters from state to state.

I believe that all politicians are unprincipled crooks and I still believe that they are better than the alternative. I believe that California is going to sink into the sea when the big one comes, while Florida is going to dissolve into madness and alligators and toxic waste.

I believe that antibacterial soap is destroying our resistance to dirt and disease so that one day we'll all be wiped out by the common cold like martians in War of the Worlds.

I believe that the greatest poets of the last century were Edith Sitwell and Don Marquis, that jade is dried dragon sperm, and that thousands of years ago in a former life I was a one-armed Siberian shaman.

I believe that mankind's destiny lies in the stars. I believe that candy really did taste better when I was a kid, that it's aerodynamically impossible for a bumble bee to fly, that light is a wave and a particle, that there's a cat in a box somewhere who's alive and dead at the same time (although if they don't ever open the box to feed it it'll eventually just be two different kinds of dead), and that there are stars in the universe billions of years older than the universe itself.

I believe in a personal god who cares about me and worries and oversees everything I do. I believe in an impersonal god who set the universe in motion and went off to hang with her girlfriends and doesn't even know that I'm alive. I believe in an empty and godless universe of causal chaos, background noise, and sheer blind luck.

I believe that anyone who says sex is overrated just hasn't done it properly. I believe that anyone who claims to know what's going on will lie about the little things too.

I believe in absolute honesty and sensible social lies. I believe in a woman's right to choose, a baby's right to live, that while all human life is sacred there's nothing wrong with the death penalty if you can trust the legal system implicitly, and that no one but a moron would ever trust the legal system.

I believe that life is a game, that life is a cruel joke, and that life is what happens when you're alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it.”
― Neil Gaiman, American Gods

“To absent friends, lost loves, old gods, and the season of mists; and may each and every one of us always give the devil his due.”

― Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 4: Season of Mists

"Weasels?" (P.o.t.D. 12/24/16)

Popping heads off of her Barbies
Like champagne corks on New Year's Eve,
She chortled softly to herself,
"Who are you trying to deceive?
We can't have thin bodies like these!"
...showing immeasurable wealth...

"scary changes" (P.o.t.D. 12/23/16)

Change is a challenge:

To give up old behaviors
And trudge forth through the unknown...

Let's walk away,
Slodging through valleys of fear,
leaving this humble hilltop
to try to climb mountains

we don't want to give up
simple, some times flawed
strategies of survival,
when the new paths
could be a stumble
as well as a soar...

I didn't stop drinking,
until it stopped working.

I couldn't stop smoking
until i got free
of its physical addiction barbs:
"I'll just have one more cigarette..."

some fear of failure, too -
"why apply to jobs,
just to get rejection letters?"

ah, yes... fear of failure -
the procrastinator's nightmare,
for i want to perfect
on the first attempt, every time...

true story - i attempted 10 writing components,
all failed or dropped -
i thought because of writer's block...
but perhaps because I was out of my depth -
"you see? because I wrote reams,
when the writing was tied to teaching
and i had been a tutor for seven years..."

this present focus on careers -
as i look at a bird's nest of jobs,
mostly entry-level clerical and retail...
because they're familiar

No baring of my breast
in forays of romance -
why rish the rejection, the possible unease?
the fear of my mind obsessing?
yet, i grow bitter
as ladies pass me by...

i write, and i write,
and some times face ridicule
because i'm being too vulnerable, too open
"yes, that could chase folks away,
thinking no secret is safe with me.."

i near the end
of this self-imposed challenge
to write every day...
A January more,
And then to sift the wheat from the chaffe,
to edit ruthlessly,
to assemble what I can

i'm tired,
yet, try as I may,
i can't sleep,
and my sane bits
scream in terror,
""No! Not that rabbit hole of chaos!"

I'm still wondering
how firm the job offer is,
that i received today...
moreover...
will i have to get a car, too?
do i want to make those changes?





what does "change" evoke in my mind, good and bad?
- three weeks gone by, unattended

So, I'm not working Christmas Eve or Christmas night. I currently have no firm plans to go anywhere formal; and yet I'd like to get out of my house.
Does anyone want to adopt me? I can bring some board and/or card games...
-------------------------------------------------
I was unable to get the time or ticket fares set aside to visit my family (in Dallas, Kansas, California, and a couple of other places around the world) for either Christmas or NYE, this year. Kind of bummed about that...

"Forget me not?" (P.o.t.D. 12/22/16)

I woke up, screaming,
"I don't want to die alone!"
Shaken, I turned
To hug my wife...

And I only saw her ashes,
Long perched there,
Upon her dressing table...

No sleep would return to me,
Upon that cold unfeeling night,
As I wondered
Why my children no longer called...

"Jar-head" (P.o.t.D. 12/21/16)

"If you let me die,
Then the stars crumble to dust..."
...so preached an ill brain...

"Puppet" (P.o.t.D. 12/20/16)

"Just play along, now,
Act as the Party tells you...
For assassins wait..."

"Ode to Wino" (P.o.t.D. 12/19/16)

Stripes, to hide in grass;
White paws that stalk human feet -
Cat's taken control?

Attempted meditation stream (P.o.t.D. 12/18/16)

searching for a beginning,
my mind drifts over
blinking icons... blinking lights...
returns to center with chants of Om.

thinking about breaking down
in Smithville
hours at the video store with Shawn
rescued by Donna and Mom
commenting all the way to Dallas
about Christmas lights guiding the sleigh
even though some were police

thinking about sundays
falling away from dharma punx
permanent illusion in my mind
that they'll still be there
"if my orbit returns me in kind"

politics again, rears up
seeing my eyes
turned away, so blind
assuming there's no oppression
to give me false peace of mind

a whole lot of fear
and unchained, galloping anxiety -

will they gather up the scientists
who try to warn them
against their doomsday energy plans?

will they decimate the protesters -
Standing Rock water cannons times a million?

will the women be corralled
into great, big breeding pens
forced to have babies
or bindings upon their feet?

Yeah, it may be overblown
and quite a bit irrational -
but, then, these new leaders are scary,
showing themselves to be quite irrational, too...

if my selfish, self-centered interests,
I think that I might survive,
So, Alfred E. Neuman,
"What? Me worry?"

but again - self-deception...
I am one of the liberals,
I am one of the protestors,
I am clinically insane...
and, for that, I may be on the first trains?

return to the Om,
chanting through my headset...
Did that clear my mind?
Can I let those thoughts drift by,
Like the clouds, hanging in the sky?

Not sure if journalling is fast enough
To capture ...

bell.

"Anxiety Reigns" (P.o.t.D.12/17/16)

The impulses have grown strong,
Blurting out strange turns of phrase
With aggressive tones
And lack of restraint...

Modern day fight or flight, I guess -
When staring at the abyss around me,
Afraid that my world will fall apart...

I laugh a frightened laugh,
Hoping the bare teeth

Scares away the mists, the beasts...

"Fearing Monday" (P.o.t.D. 12/16/16)

Stubborn electors
Gonna vote like they been told,
"Ain't 'Merica Great?!"

"Chaos stream" (P.o.t.D. 12/15/16)

can i control chaos?
capture collisions and energy loss,
just trying to...stumble...
time heating up
cracks across my eyes
mind falters
yet sleep? halted?
hell's bells! let's dart
at a dictionary
just to make random lines
but, no, my mind screams
for order, for rules, for laws!
and yet, i see trump -
not enough respect to capitalize -
sewing seeds of destruction
throughout his puppet play...
aigh! no will in me,
to call him out;
as the cloak of defeat
smothers and suffocates...
and i feel we all see
wide-grinning Death
with his scythe of Fear -
the mind-killer, remember? -
cutting large swaths across the land
and leaving me
wailing and gnashing
and bemoaning
the end of America.

but, maybe, I'm just unreasonably afraid?

Time, time, time...
So easy to lose,
So hard to recover.

"Tea" (P.o.t.D. 12/14/160

What future lies before me,
Patterns revealed by leaves of tea?

Why, now I realize, my cup is empty -
So, I must get another, you see

To drink deep of brews a plenty
And let my brain swim in ecstacy...

Caffeine, peppermint, hibiscus - all agree
That leaves are best found,
Simmering in water,
And not attached to a tree.

P.o.t.D. 12/13/16

Is my mind empty?
Or are the thoughts all tangled
Like old spaghetti?

P.o.t.D. 12/12/16

Christians are concerned:
"Christmas is under attack!"
Yet, Muslim hate spreads...

"Before the Melt..." (P.o.t.D. 12/11/16)

Blizzard in my brain:
So many thoughts colliding -
Buried by the drifts...

"speak the speech..." (P.o.t.D. 12/10/16)

will the words
stick in my throat,
caught up in anxieties
about how i look in societies?

or does my brain soar above
those turns of phrases,
hoping to scatter them about
with my manic phases?

so many questions,
so much that i doubt,
all leave me speechless,
while deep inside
I just need to shout..

"Freedom to Remain Silent" (P.o.t.D. 12/9/16)

Afraid of currents -
The whirlwinds of your passions
Blowing me down wells...

P.o.t.D. 12/8/16

Afraid to speak up,
Because they bully others
In daily flame wars.

"Create-Your-Own..." (P.o.t.D. 12/7/16)

Cracks appear in reality -
Synchrocity run rampant
Like a waistcoated rabbit...

You probably catch the Alice ref,
Like so many other meme-drops
Pulled from the pop fabric...

How do I uncover the real,
The truths like diamonds in the sky,
Hiding under so many layers of stories
Shoved upon our experience,
Coloring our glasses
And leaving us gasping for originality?

Is it an original twist,
If the story's taken out of context
Or if it happens to a new character?

Or is everything just a grand cosplay,
Where we're doomed to repeat history
Because we feel comfortable
Living former lives
Like the domesticated housewife
Or the workaholic father?

Some people get so wrapped up
In the soap operas and novellas...
Others just love the guns and violence...
And I probably quite favor the absurd.

Now, I just feel like I'm grinding again,
Writing because I don't want to sleep -
It's becoming harder
To distinguish
Dreams
From reality
Or nightmares.

This feeling in my gut that I am self-centered to the extreme... just blindly plowing through life without recognition of others.
So, forgive me, if I have not returned emails or calls, or sent surprise texts asking how you are. Perhaps 2017 will be an improvement for the better?
Life seems so filled with toil and tasks...

P.o.t.D. 12/6/16

Am I a shadow?
Draining the life out of all,
Like an undead shade?

Or a vampire..?
Born from sickness, sapping strength,
Afraid of sunlight...

Caught up in morbid reflection again,
Yearning for jovial times,
When youth's abandon
Had me playing games 'til sunrise...

Wishing for coffee and conversation
About the French House commons,
Or even cigarettes in the dark
After an AA meeting.

"Is it so hard to pick up a phone?"
When I've been sapped of strength
From long, hard hours at work,
Or I feel I'd be an imposition -
That phone feels more like a chore
Than like a chance to soar.

So, I pen poems in the witching hours,
Not sure if they make much sense,
Ever reminding myself,
"It's a challenge,
To see if you can write!"
Honestly, I don't think I can...

Heck, I'm not too sure I can talk -
Always left behind, in the group.

"Cause and effect?" (P.o.t.D. 12/5/16)

Why...?

Can we peek behind the curtain,
And see how these miracles
Are manufactured by the mundane?

Can we piece together
Across all the epochs
How man came from amoeba,
Or... better yet...
How amoeba came from stardust?

Or... are we to be left
Reeling from shock and awe,
Wondering what could twist a mind so,
To kill all those innocents
With guns or knives or hands -
The weapon is the person, not the tool.

So much is out there,
With some modeled quite well
By some excellent minds
While so much more, like those minds,
Is still baffling -
A marble holding a galaxy, held by..?

"For the Birds?" (P.o.t.D. 12/4/16)

Strutting around the yard,
A rooster crows and pecks the ground.
He would give up
His roost over all the hens
To be an eagle, high above,
Gliding upon the thermals
With eyes spotting innocent prey
Like himself.

Stimulus - Nothing.
Stimulate harder - Nothing.
Frustration wells up...

Stimulus - Response.
Stimulus - Response. Laughter.
...warm, fuzzy feelings...

"Skip, Skip, Slippity Slip" (P.o.t.D. 12/3/16)

Christmas lights flashing?
...or police speeding down the road?

My mind's falling apart,
Like a smacked down garlic clove...

Vogon poetry, I challenge thee!

Skip, skip, and slippity slip -
Grasping at memories,
Like holding water on your fingers.

I just want to be complete,
And I hate living, lacking...
Worried about my next meals,
Putting off getting clothes
From a second-hand store...

Skip, skip, slippity slip -
Life feels like a broken record,
"And all the king's men
Couldn't put him back together, again..."

Is my mind sparking and flashing?
Have my actions become labored,
With way too much of my brain?

Skip, skip, slippity slip -
I like how that phrase rolls
Off the tongue,
Like sweet hot caramel
Hugging an ice cream scoop....

Who are we,
To force our hands,
To help make this make sense?

A night with so little sleep
Leaves me hard-pressed to focus,
To not drift, or skip,
Or perhaps even shout...

I want to be done with today!
I want to sleep deep and dream wild!

But, alas... the hunger gnaws at my flesh,
As if a pound of that
Could satisfy this ravenous poem.

So, first, I write;
Then, I eat,
Then, Gods willing, I get to sleep...

"October 1998" (P.o.t.D. 12/2/16)

"Why not suicide?
If I feel like a failure,
Why keep sucking air?"

...a lucid moment,
as my mind reeled
from her harsh breakup
and hoping beyond hope
that she would visit once more...

"Why not suicide?
She no longer loves me, and
My bed is so cold..."

...the depression grew starker,
as i fell further behind on rent,
and i went hungry for lunch,
looking long at the cafe
next to the new professional job...

"Why not suicide?
I'm not cut out for this work,
And, one day, they'll know..."

...so, i played upon my arms
with a dull swiss army,
leaving scratches galore,
but afraid to draw blood and gore...

...i began to call in sick,
when i had just overslept,
because i hadn't slept all night...

...and then?

My plan changed like that,
And I guzzled Depakote -
One month's worth of pills.

Last I remember,
I was laying down to sleep
My life's final sleep...

...they tell me,
that they found me
sitting in my underwear,
against my bedroom wall...

...they tell me,
that they dragged me
to the shower,
turning it on,
full blast on hot...

...they tell me,
that i had 90% kidney failure,
and a body temperature of 84...

First came activated charcoal,
Then a feeding tube and a catheter -
A dash of dialysis, for fun?

Thankfully, I was deep in a coma,
Lying in a bed for three weeks,
Although I did get some nasty bed sores.

I came to, to The Simpsons
And their Halloween specials;
And to a Congressman
returning to space -
Although, now, I'm hazy on which one...

It was a bit of a recovery,
And I came to realize
That she was hardly worth all that...

But.. I was young and foolish,
And rather quite hopeless...
I had crossed a breaking point of stress.

Suicide is very selfish,
Causing all about you, much pain...

...and yet, I would consider it, once more,
If faced with a future full of my own pain,
Or feelings like I'm a failure, once again...

"Why not suicide?
If I feel like a failure,
Why keep sucking air?"

"Lizards" (P.o.t.D. 12/1/16)

Let's puff up our chests
And spit stinging words to wound
Others' characters...

This knowledge hunger,
Starved by social media,
Pecking at mere crumbs...

P.o.t.D. 11/30/16

The cream cheese was extra creamy;
That worried me...
"Has it gone bad?"

Just throwing darts in the dark,
Hoping I'll hit a magic number,
Instead of a wall, another block..

Listening to the seconds
Marching into oblivion -
Almost a poetic constanct, that clock..

Muffled sounds of a TV,
Blasing out through Danny's door -
At least it's not...

Can't think of a good line
That rhymes with door,
And yet conveys so much more.

exhaustin and hunger beat me down,
stark reminders that I'm so poor.
so, instead of mumbling aound,
i'm off to sleep, perhaps snore.

Gratitude month, day 30 - endings and closure

What am I thankful for, this November?

Day 30 - Endings and closure

Day 29 - differing opinions
Day 28 - physical affection
Day 27 - humility
Day 26 - bipolar recovery
Day 25 - puzzles and games
Day 24 - science fiction and fantasy
Day 23 - mathematical patterns
Day 22 - country night skies
Day 21 - cultural diversity
Day 20 - weather changes
Day 19 - musical diversity
Day 18 - paradox and illusion
Day 17 - laws
Day 16 - world cuisines
Day 15 - unconditional love
Day 14 - scientific progress
Day 13 - Meetup groups
Day 12 - personal freedoms
Day 11 - strong and deep friendships
Day 10 - positive self-image
Day 9 - the arts
Day 8 - pets
Day 7 - forgiving
Day 6 - housing
Day 5 - amiable nature
Day 4 - debts under control
Day 3 - my education
Day 2 - loving family
Day 1 - good health

"Streaming without emotions" (P.o.t.D. 11/29/16)

A funeral mask,
A stone heart,
The monotone voice...

No interest
In your sports,
Or petty gossips...

"There's this terrible pain
In the diodes
Down my left side."

But, robot that I am,
I still bleed when cut,
And I can still cry
Crocodile tears!

Perhaps the bipolar meds
Have robbed me of emotions,
But at least, with this cocktail,
My brain's moving faster
Than "Slugs on Ice"...

With the number of deaths
That I seem to have dodged,
My mind gets twisted up
In a delusion
Of being a "Millenial Man".

It's silly, really,
Probably encouraged
By reading heavily in sci-fi...

I just want to be
Like other normal men,
Able to feel the feels
Without being overwhelmed;
And to express my loves and hates
Without getting ostracized...

Perhaps, in this life,
I must suffer
These extremes of attachment and aversion;
And to separate the desires from the self,
That I may learn and model
How to be a calm eye in the storms ahead...

Then, my Cyrano,
In parting parries,
Leaves me this final thought:
"Alas, Bean, no lass will you marry"

"I hate this place. This zoo. This prison. This reality, whatever you want to call it, I can't stand it any longer. It's the smell, if there is such a thing. I feel saturated by it. I can taste your stink and every time I do, I fear that I've somehow been infected by it. "
(Agent Smith, "The Matrix")

"Seasons" (P.o.t.D. 11/28/16)

As I stare across a screen of white lights;
Thinking of snow falling gently, slowing
During winter's cold, brisk, and silent nights...

Peace comes to the mice resting in the earth;
As they hide from the owl's relentless flights
To come out again, upon spring's rebirth...

Children skip about, jarring green fireflies,
While a wind whips up ashes in the hearth
And mom knits in summer, breathing low sighs...

Jack-o-lanterns sit on the porch, glowing,
With promise of candy within their eyes
While a mild autumn breeze begins blowing...

a rant, for what it's worth....

I slept for three hours,
And now I'm awake again...

Living on ten dollars until Thursday,
Locked in this cycle
Of paycheck to paycheck,
Wishing I could see financial relief...

Creature comforts.

I'd like to see Dr. Strange,
To eat out more,
Or have good food to choose from
Instead of the bachelor's fridge...
To enjoy the arts?

Feeling this bare hole in my soul -
No companion to share my strife with,
Or my joys, or simply my time...

I did have an option tonight
To push my exhaustion
And go catch some improv with another -
Alas, my weary bones wanted relief.

It worries me that three hours was enough -
"I'm watching you, bipolar!"

...watching like a slow train wreck,
Tearing up sweet friendships
With poorly planned comments,
And my bizarre humor
Overlooked and mistaken...

...and I feel like some misshapen troll,
digging through the news feed,
hoping for some relief, some release,
Some escape from the chaos of my mind.

Maybe I need more books,
Or perhaps I need to create -
To toss my words
Upon a figurative fire,
And keep my monkeys placated...
Or, possibly, meditation would be best
To find a nugget of peace
In this maelstrom, inside and out?

Sitting at the computer, right now,
I hear the clock ticking,
The fridge humming,
And my radio in my room,
Softly playing classical.
Thankfully, the TV is silent
And the house mates are not up and about.
Solitude in the midnight hour.

I talk of the chaos in my mind,
But words can not describe it...?
For no words are coming quickly,
And I'm so slow to respond,
To form my thoughts into something I understand...

I want a safe space, amongst my friends -
A place that I can go
And say whatever I feel,
Without feeling threatened,
Or feeling like I'm threatening...

I want to go back to the 3rd grade playground,
Where we could pretend to be our D&D characters,
And not be concerned by the mocking of others.

I want to understand why
Those women are cutting me out of their lives,
When I thought I was connecting...
Am I too intense?
Do I obsess too much?
Am I fooling myself,
Thinking I'm independent
When I'm actually codependent?
Who do I remind them of,
That triggers that fear?

Do I end this rant here, tonight,
Or for this moment,
To refuel and recharge some more?

"Obsessed?" (P.o.t.D. 11/27/16)

Reading others' words,
I pray for peace in my mind -
"Silence these demons!"

Take Three?
"I'd like to have a conversation..."
'Oh? On what topic?'
"Synchronicity? Just start talking, and see what strikes a chord?"
'Would you like some musical interludes?'

I'm craving companionship, but I'm tired as white rock road with cracks baked in by the relentless Texas summers...
Not the best analogy, I know... but then, you know my mind comes unhinged, swinging wildly like a screen door in the ten-minute Texas thunderstorms...
'Twould be nice to be pardners, thick as thieves... Alas! I roll down the road, like the tumbleweeds.
...and I shake the dust from my sandals, and I sigh, for then wrote, ye Vandals:

Not sure what to post?
I hear pictures of cats work,
While politics don't...

"Black Friday Lament" P.o.t.D. 11/26/16

Buy, buy, buy, buy more -
Spend the money you don't have -
For what? New bookends?

"Take Two Aspirin..." (P.o.t.D. 11/25/16)

The fabric of society is shot through
With this idea to change the way we feel.

Some methods, like talking it out
And healthy exercise - perhaps yoga;
Or just eating good food instead of grease -
They have their merits,
Which may be discussed down the road...

But, what about
Taking two aspirin,
With or without doctor supervision?

Or, drinking, or drugging,
Our minds into a stupor,
Worse than slugs on ice?

Feel your allergies returning, this year?
Why not self-medicate
With what worked last year,
Or maybe Facebook's suggested potage?

OOooo... you have a chronic illness
That we barely know how to treat?
Try this brand new medicine,
Even though, in ten years,
It may give you diabetic feet...

Got a pain in your back,
And the pain-killers
Are not giving you slack?
Maybe you can fudge the doses...
Quite a slippery track.

It's so easy to feed Big Pharma,
It's so easy to add one more pill,
To build ourselves up to a morning cocktail
Of thirteen or more drugs for our ills...
All the while, not caring or watching
How they interact, or new symptoms instill.

Physician! Heal Thyself!
Do not tell me to "Take Two..."
Tell me how to live well,
That good health will then ensue,
For I am not a lab rat
From which your data accrues...

...and this is but one facet,
With no mention of
Tobacco, alcohol,
And all the rest...
I need to let my mind stew,
Before observing those best...

----- poem seeds below ------

Take the zyprexia to feel better,
Get diabetes ten years later...

Cocktail of 17 pills day and night,
Whose effects have no foresight.

Got a pain in the back...
take a pain killer...

if we legalize it,
then the criminal activity drops...
but what about the abuse?

P.o.t.D. 11/24/16

A poem about crap:
The pains jalapenos bring -
What relief is there?

"Company at 3 a.m." (P.o.t.D. 11/23/16)

I think I'm alone
But cars whiz by, frogs ribbit,
Snails crunch under feet..?

"Trainwreck" (P.o.t.D. 11/22/16)

Watching this train wreck
Advance slowly, building steam
To leave tracks unclean.

"Distracted" (P.o.t.D. 11/21/16)

I try to focus,
Yet my mind wanders, wonders
At every sound...

"Winter warmth" (P.o.t.D. 11/20/16)

Curled up with a cathartic hot cocoa
As the fire crackles and snaps,
Giving out their own heats
To warm me through and through,
Inside and out
From weary foot
To quiet depths of a kind heart.

"Asthma's Release?" (P.o.t.D. 11/18/16)

As the allergies attack me,
Robbing me of sleep so adored,
I toss and turn throughout the day;
And with this misery I become so bored...

I have some zest for life, still,
But physically I want to be free of this corpse -
Just falling through a rooftop full of leaves
Smothered and covered, with breaths no more.

"Lamenting Grabby People" (P.o.t.D. 11/19/16)

It saddens me,
That I'm forced to think globally -
To keep an eye on the neighbors
That their poison does not spread...

Actually, I wish no poison was used,
And, in harmony, we act fused,
For everyone's good,
Instead of fat cats getting fatter...

If we could break free of carbon,
And protect, instead of kill, our bees;
If we could love planet and neighbor -
That would make me so very pleased.

Here's where I'd spin off on a tirade -
But I've been worn down, beat down,
So bloody, plumb old tired...
That I hope my anger is not needed
In future edits, when all these poems get wired.

That reminds me,
That I must create a foundation for next year.
I wonder if blogger can capture my hopes,
Or will I have to look for another site
To bind all these poems together with silken ropes.

As I said, I'm tired;
Maybe, on caffeine, a tad wired -
I hope my efforts may get me hired,
Assuming, we all survive "You're Fired!"

"Ozymandias" (P.o.t.D. 11/17/16)

What was left unscathed,
But some obscene shrine to hate,
Amid ruins of state...?

"Signal to Noise" (rough draft, P.o.t.D. 11/16/16)

Where's the signals in all of the noise?
What are the currents driving our state?

All the people in their bubbles
Fostering deep insane hate
For any who are others...

Even rationality unravels
As it runs head-on
Into the crowd's wall of ignorance

Or petty little gossips
Concerned about a dress's color
Instead of a Martian milestone.

You might counter, "I'll just post pictures
Of family, and food, and cats!"
OK, maybe cats eating family feast

In this season of Thanksgiving.
In my heart, it feels like
We've lost our direction

And we're drifting downstream
Into dangerous rapids,
Where all that will be left will be static.

"Tears from on High" (P.o.t.D. 11/15/16)

Delicate snowflake
Melting on my tongue - it tastes
Salty, bittersweet...

"Cuties, a Year Later" (P.o.t.D. 11/14/16)

Eight cuties before me today,
Chilled for a month, and yet,
How succulent and sweet they tasted
Over a course of several minutes -
Eat them one by one, popped whole,
Sweet juices squirting so!

Alas.. the quarter hour is not complete,
Without that Pink Floyd song,
Hiding, "in the front of my mind..?"

"Puppet's Lament" (P.o.t.D. 11/14/16)

I dance before you,
Stumbling over my two feet,
Controlled by cords linked...

"Beware Unbridled Anger" (alternate) P.o.t.D. 11/13/16

I feel so alone
On this planet with its hate...
We made U.S. great?
------------
I feel so alone
On this planet with its hate...
Made America great?
--------------
Be careful, Jody Bean, of charging ahead,
Guided by unbridled anger, free of reins...
For a cliff lies ahead, ro which that horse may be blind.....

Can we survive the tumble over its edge?

"Beware Unbridled Anger" P.o.t.D. 11/13/16

I feel so alone
On this planet with its hate...
We made U.S. great?

"Start with Purple" (P.o.t.D. 11/12/16)

I will try to wear a safety pin,
For as long as it takes
To feel brave enough
To talk down the hate
And talk with the scared...

As a first step,
I will adorn it with a purple ribbon -
So regal and supporting so much.

Here's a short list of purple's causes,
At least the ones that I feel
That I can relate to:

Celebrating military kids,
Like my mom's siblings...

Three forms of cancer,
Like the pancreatic my friend has,
The testicular that Movember highlights,
And the gynecological -
Possibly seen in the dehumanizing abuses
That women must face daily...

Purple also pushes back against
Bullying, and hopes to prevent suicides -
Reminding us to remember teens
Who were stigmatized for their orientations...

While we're at it,
Remember that purple wants to protect
Victims of domestic violence...

Let's also raise a violet flag half-mast
To remember those lost to drug overdoses...

Some other illnesses include
Migraines, lupus, fibromalgia, and Alzheimer's -
Which can all tear away at the soul...

One last bit from Wikipedia,
Tells me purple is for Worker's Memorial Days...

So, with heavy heart,
I will start wearing purple,
Wishing for a peaceful world
Where the combated ills were no more...

It's not a plain safety pin,
As I don't know if I can shoulder that burden,
But could it be baby steps
For me and other privileged white men?

"11/11 rant" (P.o.t.D. 11/11/16)

Time to re-train my bedeviled brain
To stand up against oppression,
Especially sly, under-handed tricks
That may masquerade as "innocent jokes"
That hide deadly de-humanizing stings.

My mind peels away from the roiling fear -
In myself, in others..
fuck

no poem here

exhaustion has taken its toll
and i feel myself going fetal

i want the voice of sanity
to step in, to say it'll all be all right

i want comfort
and i hate the conflict
but america's always been at war
maybe some sick alpha male gratification:
"if we can beat ______,
we will show we were the better country!"

while our children try to copy our bullying,
making a mockery of our "day-care center education system"

...and we learn nothing.

i once heard, take it for what its worth,
that innovation basically came from conquest and exploration....
so, please, y'all can we get on with exploring Mars
and tapping clean energy
and learning to live together with each other
instead of with our stereotypes and prejudices?

does it count as exploration
if we try to take the time
to learn about different sub-cultures,
instead of trying to "white-wash" them all in our suppressions?

how does that go again?
"Let's build a longer table
Instead of a higher fence."

I wonder what sins are running rampant?
Greed? Envy? Sloth?

Did I ever tell you the time
That I made sandwiches for my former housemate,
When he approached me on the streets,
Asking for some help?

Just some raw words, and a tired old Bean,
Who would rather be asleep,
If only this anxiety and these allergies
Weren't shooting that all to Hell...
But I need to sleep, so I will sign off.

"Angry Poet?" P.o.t.D. 11/10/16

Lost in the swirling maelstrom of gossip and opinions
Fed to me by media, just trying to earn their paychecks,
I become jaded, disinterested, unfocused
Just looking for some light at the end of the tunnel...

I shudder to think that the light I so desperately seek
Might turn out to be an atom bomb,
Laying waste with equal measure to the strong and the meek.

Or there's red flags, false warnings raised yonder
While the nation quickly dissolves, grows less fonder.

This is my attempt to be an angry poet?

"Darkness beckons" (P.o.t.D. 11/9/16)

Picking through the tangled threads and dark clouds
Of this maniac's busy mind of mine,
I yearn for, thirst for, some simple white shrouds
Under which, the worms, on my body, dine.

"Missing Mania" (P.o.t.D. 11/8/16)

The slips and sparks throughout my brain
Have dulled, making docs call me "sane"?

If only there was some level of self control,
My creative life could arise, not this droll...

As passion's embers dull to dusty gray ash,
I trudge on, barely aware of this life's path...

On the Eve of Trump's Election

ah, the anxiety!!

Like being tied to the ground,
Under a grand magnifying glass -
Waiting for the sun to creep along it's track....

Or is it grabbing at any news,
Hoping for some grand answer
That's lost in the leaves of time,
Long since fallen from the Tree of Knowledge
And mocked by serpents
With their silver tongues...?

"Job Market" (P.o.t.D. 11/7/16)

There's a gulf in our jobs, today...
Passed-up service work, at low pay;
Crazy skills cobbled together
Just to get a foot in the door
For high tech spots, or so they say.

"As I watch..." P.o.t.D. 11/6/16

As I watch waves of anger boil up...
As the radio plays Vangelis' "Light and Shadow"...

This poem begins to meander,
Weaving round the road ahead
Like a drunk driver, instead
Of going down a worn smooth tread.

As I watch the angry debates unfold
Between Democratic daughter and Christian father...

I wonder about many family's relations,
About all their debates on the nation,
And how love stokes the flames
Into lower and lower elevations?

As I watch anger sweep the media...
The radio now plays Desplat's "Canto at Gabelmeister's Peak"...

Everyone fighting, just to be heard,
Interrupting, stepping on each others' word -
Can't we return to that peaceful scene
When upon the podium landed a bird?

As I watch, anger poisons my sight,
And queue Morricone's "L'Arena"...

I wish to retreat, and hide from the turmoil,
In the hopes that my blood does not boil,
Or the stress leads to an early grave,
Where my tortured mind rests in the soil.

...and queue Philip Glass, "Mosque and Temple" from "Powaqqatsi"
...and all these first world problems are swept aside,
As I think that I should be grateful
For food, shelter, and love
And yet anger lurks,
Waiting to seize upon our differences -
Ah, the cultural divides. *sigh*

no care I, if this makes sense...

i crave conversation and unwinding and relaxing -
or so i claim in this moment...

dusting off that surface thought,
I realize that i want intellectual stimulation....

i probably also want physical stimulation

bad timing, though, as i feel 8 hours of sleep
slipping through my feeble grasp of time

maybe i'll find relief in the gifts of the Sandman?

so, now, i'll set my clock black,
duck under the covers
and hope that caffeine does not foil dreams.

"Tarot Unfolding" (P.o.t.D. 11/5/16)

Like some ticking time bomb,
Counting down with loaded images,
My mind played out the Tarot scenes:

Ten of Pentacles,
A fulfillment of wealth...

Nine of Swords -
Was pain, but was it
Physical or Mental?

Eight of Wands...
And I picture the strife scene,
But was it remembered incorrectly?

Ah, but Seven of Cups,
Reaching for delusions,
Lost in a fantasy of wealth...

Why did the cards root themselves
In the caverns of my mind?
What truths paranormal
Are crowding into my sight?
How is my subconscious trying
To warn me of future plight?

...or was it all some ploy
to short-circuit a share,
to make connections
with other mystics
who may be out there?

P.o.t.D. 11/4/16

Walking 'round Austin,
I fill my ears with sweet noise
For my brain's focus.

"The Murphy Bill?" (P.o.t.D. 11/3/16)

A chance encounter,
And my head's spinning...

There's a Murphy Bill in Congress,
Full of some lengthy legalese;
But this bad bill was boiled down,
Upon allpoetry.com,
To indicate drugs and treatments
Will be forced on mentally ill...

A second site, linked from the poem,
(Blogs written by a bipolar?)
Tells us all that this bill only
Has support from the families
Of the mentally ill, and yet
Has no support from the same ill.

Trying to read the legalese
And its jargon clouds the issues
So, I write the following "poem"
Hoping for some help with all these
Conflicting camps of interest...

"My first thoughts are that
This bill reacts to the guns
Used horribly now -

Yet Orwell rises,
As I think of force-fed pills,
Medicated crowds

All lock-step marching
To feed Big Pharm and doctors
Who lack compassion."

That is my knee-jerk reaction,
From what I have perused thus far,
Thinking about 1800's...
When mentally ill were locked up,
Secured there to be forgotten.

"Ode to the Washroom" (P.o.t.D. 11/2/16)

In what room am I locked
Where whiskers seek basins,
Mirror images mocked,
And we leave like raisins?

"Attracting abundance" (P.o.t.D. 11/1/16)

Abundance wishes
Put into the universe -
Law of attraction?

"I snooze, I lose" (P.o.t.D. 10/31/16)

I slept in today.
Now, rushing to get tasks done -
That's never much fun.

(untitled) (P.o.t.D. 10/30)

Some poem about cats
Eludes me in the shadows
Of my many lives...

"Manifestation..?" (P.o.t.D. 10/29)

Positive forces
Gather 'round, to shape my life
And cease inner strife.

"What can I believe?" (P.o.t.D. 10/28)

My maths are patterns
With little inspiration -
Science seems better?

"Tropical?" (P.o.t.D. 10/27)

Listen to a Mediterranean beat,
Played on classical guitar, in Autumn heat...

Imagine salsa and tangos,
And savoring juicy mangos...

Feel the sultry charge of electricity -
Let's celebrate this Spanish ethnicity!

As we dance the night away,
Sweet memories linger on
When we wake to face the day -
When will we dance once again?

"Money woes" (P.o.t.D. 10/26/16)

Nickled and dimed to death...
"Can't I live without money?"
He wished, with his last breath...
Alas, he lived and he died,
Caught up in the matrix.

"Late Night Snacks" (P.o.t.D. 10/25/16)

Beware comfort foods
As they call after midnight
But they're not healthy!

"Slap! Why'd I Stay in Bed?" (P.o.t.D. 10/24/16)

Sleeping time away,
Slipping duties of the day,
Leaves My Way sloppy...

"Dance lessons" (P.o.t.D. 10/23/2016)

As I dance with the Fates, I still stumble
Round life's grand ballroom - a marionette
With frayed and tangled strings...

Looking askance at facts makes me grumble
At some truth obscured by its silhouette,
Missing the finer things...

Karma loops in its phase, shifts the jumble
To reveal an intricate minuet -
Lessons from beginnings.

"Partially Considering Illness and Injury" (P.o.t.D. 10/22/16)

Is this bizarre life,
Some Old God's card trick
Or roll of a die
For illness to pick?

As deadly cancer creeps up on my friends
And I wonder if my skin is benign,
The Fates just cut fast, choosing threads to end...
Leaving the rest at wakes, to wine and dine.

So many bullets dodged,
Times that I, too, could have died
By robbers or cars...

I've even advanced my life's severance,
Popping pills upon pills, and passing out -
Came out of coma with kidneys crippled
As Armstrong in space 'gain, 'midst Homer's "Doh's"...

Back pains plague me now,
And I know not why.
I suspect work fouls
From moves not so wry.

"Sensory Transmutation - First Attempt"

Saxophone plays upon my ears,
Like the caress of smooth velvet
Or popping buttered brussel sprouts
Or perhaps scent of a summer rose;
And I look long upon the babbling brook...

"Insomnia" (P.o.t.D. 10/21/16)

God, it's 3:08
In the weird hours of the night;
Why am I still up?

"Static"

Electricity
Makes my toys run, my toes curl,
My hair stands on end...

"Writing about nothing?" (P.o.t.D. 10/20)

I know nothing!

...what a negative thought that is...

I'm impressionable,
Not yet set in my ways,
And even eager to learn so much more!

...spin it again, Sam...

I approach this world with wonder,
Curious to learn
About the origins of lightning and thunder!

...so do I transmute bad to good?

Meditation: Career Direction

What is my ideal career?

- working 4 days per week, up to 12 hours per day (8 is preferred)?
- or setting my own schedule, but still being able to stay busy, 4 days per week...
- work tasks do not follow me home, usually

- earning enough money, to:
= meet my standard bills,
= set aside for retirement,
= and still grow my savings each month...

- staying active, at work, most of the time
- has some element of physical exercise?

- makes use of my knowledge of mathematics, and/or problem-solving skills
- possibly has me writing and/or creating

- engages with other people, as a regular part of the job
- encourages others' growth, instead of feeding their addictions

------------------------

So, is this where I go grab that STRONG career assessment, and post the top ten results, to be scrutinized?
Yes, I think I shall do that...:

So, here's my top five career areas:
1. Science
2. Writing and Mass Communication
3. Mathematics
4. Research
5. Visual Arts & Design

Next, here are my top ten occupations:
1. Technical Writer
2. Computer Programmer
3. Librarian
4. Psychologist
5. Science Teacher
6. Editor
7. Optometrist
8. Sociologist
9. Arts/Entertainment Manager
10. Computer Systems Analyst

Background: This all comes out of the Strong Interest Inventory Profile with College Profile; where I answered about 150 questions about my like or dislike of common work tasks. There's more results, but I certainly agree with most of the recommended careers and career areas.

Part Three: Attachment and Unmanageability

Being able to manage one's life is an illusion, smoke and mirrors.

Buddhism tells me that attachment and aversion create suffering, and the best I can do is eliminate the desire. Just sit with the situation, accepting what is happening and interacting with the world in a position of neutrality. The outcomes and destinations are not as important as the journeys.

So, we try not to have a higher power, in the sense that we do not try to steer towards outcomes that give us pleasure, or away from those that give us pain. I do not delude myself that being kind to another guarantees reciprocation; but I also DO try to be kind, to plant the seed of compassion. Similarly, I try to pay my bills in a timely fashion, because this will likely reduce my suffering in the future - calls from bill collectors are not much fun.

I use my higher power(s) to guide my life; but I watch how those powers transmute my life. Even then, my correlations may be faulty, at times, and what I might blame on one guide may, in reality of some other area shaping my life.

Why did I write this? Because I feel that depending on higher powers will not eliminate all of our lives' unmanageability.

Part Two: Depending on a Higher Power

Both in my alcoholic life, and my sober life, I have depended on higher powers than myself.

In my addictions, I structured my life around getting the next drink, or the next cigarette, or (currently) my next cup of caffeine. For example, I planned my life around drinking with friends who drank like I did, spending time at the bar, spending my money on alcohol instead of rent... I tried to make sure I always had cigarettes, even through the first seven years of sobriety. Also, I usually hung out with the smokers after the meetings. These days, I have become fearful of caffeine headaches, and try to make sure I have coffee or tea handy...

With drugs and food, I'm reordering my life, sometimes without thought, in order to make sure they are always easily available. Part of this is because I crave the chemical rush, the quick elation that they provide. When I was drinking or drugging, this elation weakened as my tolerance went up, causing me to seek even more of the same. I did not try to address the underlying issues causing anxiety in my life, though.

With AA and psychotherapy, I am getting some slower relief from the areas of anxiety in my life. However, it took facing some pretty big fears of how people would view me, if I disclosed those areas of anxiety. I am forever thankful that a man asked if he could sponsor me, that he took a time to work with me at my 9 months of sobriety; because he was the St. George who helped slay my fear dragons. (I need to follow his example, I think.)

I do not claim to be working a perfect AA program today, or to still use psychotherapy to good effect. I know that prayer and meditation are proving to be difficult to "see any results". I know that I am slow to make amends, when needed. I suspect that laziness is at work: "What's the least amount of effort that I can get away with, and still have some contentment?" I've seen people meltdown between 6 to 15 years of sobriety because they stopped working the program, or they got away from the group, or "life began happening, again"...

My own experience is that I've spent at least 4 years now, getting more and more involved in the gaming community in South Austin. I like to think of it as a fun hobby to take part in... However, I was spending 4 nights per week, playing games; and that edged out other activities, like AA meetings or live music or the writing group. With the new job, my gaming has been curtailed, and, yes, I think I've gone through a bit of withdrawal...

So, to me, I want to say the higher power is what gives your life meaning and purpose and satisfaction. What makes you want to live today?

Just be careful, though, because chasing that attraction might ripple through your life and disrupt your ability to meet your commitments, too...

Part One: Seven Areas Prone to Addiction

There was a presentation by Dr. Loving on seven common life areas where people develop addictions.

The seven areas are:
1) Drugs, including alcohol, nicotine, and caffeine
2) Food, which could overlap with 1) easily...
3) Sex and relationships
4) Work
5) Exercise
6) Gambling (possibly gaming, too) and also shopping (Money management)
7) Spirituality

I saw this while I was enrolled in Shoal Creek's Renaissance out-patient program, in the first month or so of my sobriety, and it still sticks with me, even today. Especially, as I've seen my addiction targets change their stripes, switching from one area to another. It is possible to engage in these areas with some moderation; such as eating enough food to stay healthy... However, I must remember that the medical definition of addiction, paraphrased, is engaging in any activity or substance to the point that it negatively impacts one or more areas of our life.

"Math Teacher's Anxiety" (P.o.t.D. 10/19/16)

"Knowledge is power" -
The clue to solve the puzzle
That opened the door...

Another weekend,
And our puzzle crew stares blank,
Hoping insights come...

Now my poor math brain
Is challenged for fun and games
At seventh grade's pains...

So, I ask myself,
"Am I idiot savant,
Or just unaware?"

Maybe meta-math
Thinking is called for, to make
These codes relevant.

...3 weeks and change...

Divided country -
Standing like bulls 'pon their sides -
Will we heal divides?

2 months and change...

...or 76 days,
To push and pull against
The cobwebs in my brain;
To scrawl out a poem,
Every day...

Every day, a challenge!
An open journal
Into my fears and dreams -
And plenty of delusions, to be sure -
Just write my way into a better mindset?

Today's a bit of an introduction,
So I'm a little more lenient;
Because writing about writing has a purpose, today.

If there's any limits to be set,
It is to meditate,
And get beyond
Writer's block,
I must search far and wide,
And deep within,
For topics to spin...

A stab at the ideal...

A love of games,
Classic and New,
Played on the table-top,
Yet also... in the bedroom.

No spite in our souls,
Our love runs deep for all;
And when we have to fight,
Our words are tempered with compassion,
And no fists are clenched, even in fury.

Ever curious, ever searching,
Looking to learn so much more,
About this wonderful world we live in,
And the marvels that nature unfurls -
We would rather have flowers to plant
Than to leave dying in a vase.

There's a bit of night's call, too -
Going out on the town,
To see music, or movies, or a play -
Even visuals on paper display.
Pair that, now, with an exotic meal
That surprises the mouth
And perhaps, the senses are sated...

What, then, could be missing?
Perhaps tonight's dreams may foretell
How we might complete our souls...

concerns?

It started with 100 candy bars
Divided among 7 dwarves;
Yet now I have to make sense
Of bounds posed by Chernoff, Markov, and Chebyshev...

Hazy memories of my discrete math class,
And also cracking texts ten years later...

I have to be honest, with myself, at the least -
I skated by in upper-division maths...
Heck! I didn't even attend class
On a good chunk of the semester.

Austin can be sooooo distracting.
Somehow, though, I pulled off passing grades,
Even though the knowledge has come and gone, in passing.

This is why I came to love tutroing differential equations -
I was on the spotlight, forced to explain, as best I could,
Material tat I had onl skimmed over.
Because I tutored so many students,
That material became much better umderstood.

To go on a tangent,
This, too, is why I enjoy training new employees -
Because it solidifies my gras
Of my job's day-to-day tasks.

Even though I may be breaking up lines,
This is not a poem,
In the spirit of Magritte's pie.
There is no math, either...
Just some names dropped
Of classes and mathematicians...

And I..?
I am neither poet,
Or mathematician -
I still think I am
A Jack of all trades, Master or none.

career changes

Choosing paths through life,
Back-tracking to walk toward
More money, more joy.

stigma attempt

Stick me with your stigma,
Whether because I'm an addict,
Or the manic-depressive...

And I struggle, and I fight,
With my mind's negativity
Or with the chaos
I unwillingly have to face.

I may have these diseases,
But I am so much more than them...

For some reason,
I'm crying as I type this -
But it feels like
An air irritant cry,
Void of any emotion.

I don't feel the words flow,
I tire of slumping in the chair,
So I think I'll do some stretches,
And sleep in my bed that's still so bare.

"chanting" (ranting) med of 10 minutes

Ding!

The bell resonates, lingering on...

First thought turns to friends with cancer,
Fighting with their might,
Yet feeling alone and vulnerable and overwhelmed -
All these well-wishers without doctorates
Offering home-brewed medical advice
And half-true rumors of how their friends beat it...
Ah, Facebook therapy! What barbs do you conceal?

Memories of my bipolar moments, shared there...
When my frustration and loneliness came exploding out,
Like the steam in a pressure cooker,
Left on the stove far too long.
Ranting and raving, and perhaps some craving
For happy company in my blanket fort.

Got a long work shift today...
I'm getting talked into a full-time schedule.
It could help catch up on bills, and yet....
I do not want to surrender my play time;
I still would like to enjoy my games hobby -
Maybe if I don't work Saturday,
Then I will still be able to role-play.

Afraid of how SXSW Eco might be getting scrubbed,
And afraid more of how this ...
whoa. synchronicity!
email just came thru from sxsw eco!
...how work will treat SXsw requests in March?

not sure what i want to do with 7-Eleven.
It just lingers on, like some weird cancer in my schedule.
Is it worth it, to stay on there,
Or could I free up my Friday
for tutoring or meetings or music or more...\

and... ding!

Stormy mind

Whirlwind of words
Caught up in the fury of anger -
Stopped and spat out and stuttered and...

My message is muted;
Because the temperance was gone,
And the smoothness
Lay trampled in my mind,
Beset upon by strange pink elephants.

As I write this meta-poem,
I forget what troubled me
Throughout the day,
Or even an hour ago -
All just washed away
By subtle, serene surrender.

Now that the storm has dispersed,
And the writer's block seems smashed,
I pause, and ask myself,
"Did I even want to speak?
Or did I instead seek
To absorb my environs through my senses;
Left in my brain, defenceless?"

Not too sure what stuck about today -
Small repimand about my limited hours on Sunday?
Or, uncertainty about gaming buddies and trades?
Or... cleaning out the fridge before food decays?
Or... dusting off ceiling fan, the lazy way?
Or... going to a meeting, and being reminded to pray?

Alas, I'm fairly tired,
And hopefully, not caffeine-wired...
So, to bed! To sleep! To dream
That my imagination be fired!

grateful to work customer service...

Looking for a hook,
Fishing for a line -
Trying to catch elusive hope
Within this simple poem of mine...

Living so simply,
Working so easy -
Leaving finished tasks at the job,
While there, people keep me busy...

No profound truths here,
Just an easy gratitude
For such little stress.

Stream-writing to "Ummagumma" at night

Events unfold, and I, an innocent child, watch in wonder...
Not afraid of the downpours, lightning and thunder.

Until the sharp, sudden pain
Stabbing again and again,
Unravelling I, quite insane.

Is there some lesson there? Some attempts to be clever, to rhyme, to unwind?

As the piano crashes through the bass register,
And the drum cymbals clash and clang,
And the sounds stomp around my brain:
Left ear, Right ear, Stereo...
Perhaps all just experimental noise,
Challenging our notions of what songs need be,
Or creating some symphonic story.
Screeches and screams pulled from guitars
And then silence, and possibly bowing of violins.

I rather enjoy Ummagumma,
Especially with headphones on -
One of my favorite effects songs from the Floyd,
Planted there as a teen,
Listening to my brother's stereo:
"Several Species of Small Furry Animals
Gathered Together in a Cave,
Grooving With a Pict"

Is the stage set yet?
I want to be innocence,
I do not like pain -
However, some pains are hidden
By their slow onset,
Endured way past the boundary of pleasure;
Remember that suffering comes from attachment and desire -
That our aversions and attractions both
Make life uneasy and difficult...

I do not want elation;
I want serenity and peace -
To feel neutral towards all,
And unbiased in my observations,
Uncolored by incomplete judgements.

"Granchester Meadow" now plays,
Gently soothing, like some folk song.
I do not know if the vocals
Are really innocent,
or are they hiding some unknown protests?
The bird song plays out,
Yet I think it may be showing off
Subtle guitar and synth tricks...

After writing all of the above,
I wonder if I've written anything to love?
Or am I a blathering village idiot,
Devoid of wise insight
Because I have avoided pains,
Sharp sudden and stabbing,
Or long, drawn-out, slowly dawning...?

And the fly gets smacked!

Queue the small furry animals!

Chipmunks beating out a crazy rhythm,
Chirping and chattering and
"Hum-bah-ha-whee!!"
A Pause While I recollect
Fond memories of starfleet battles across the hall,
As my brother's reconfigured SR-71 Blackbird,
With hidden hanger bay and moving cannons
Stands as a testament to his remodeling skills...

Ah, the chipmunk trumpets begin,
The Pict is eminent....
Echoed by a squirrel -
That I think is his incoherent speech
Sped up on a doubling loop...

"Ironic Plaaaaague!!!"
"And the Wind Cried Mary."

Have you read all the way to this part, now?
I've been mostly trying to describe an album to you,
Occassionally sneaking in references to other sides of life, too...
I do not know if I've done either justice.

I'm awake.
...and I crave.
Some easy conversation, yes...
Some connection to greater whole...
Shared experiences of lives before Facebook.
...or maybe I'm just throwing words out,
Cranking the poetic wheel, hoping beyond hope that
When the dust settles, truths will remain here, still.

writer's block

Hearing the drum roll as Brubek's "Take Five" album begins, I feel stumped again. Not sure what I want to write about. Having posted Hughes' "Theme for English B" earlier; I am reminded there's a bit of me in what I write, and - some times - a piece of you that I'm trying to appeal to...

just like fumbled, mumbled conversations, without a focus or topic. Ah! Small Talk! "How much of our lives is just idle conversation?" If there's to be no rules, need I try to impose rules to guide my brain, to put up some walls in my not-so-little fort...

Will I let myself be naked? ..vulnerable?

Or do I avoid topics, to prevent getting hurt?

...and what happens when a braver soul than I chooses to go there? Do I take the bait, or offer, instead, awkward silence?

Small talk can be neutral. Or it can swing it's barbed whips at a third party not present. Perhaps this is why celebrity gossip is so prevalent, as it could allow us to talk about our own struggles, through the lens of the public eye.

If I have NO interest or experience, I might give you a blank stare. Then again, if your enthusiasm, disgust, or other emotions are laced through your talk, I might emathize, and embrace your emotions as my own, and - tutor hat comes on - I might milk you for all I can about the topic, as the first steps towards building common knowledge and experience.

Examples?

Sex seems touchy... excuse te pun... Really, if it's even slightly deviant from some mythical gold standard of normal sex, my mind wants to steer away from the topic (especially if I have experience in those deviations) ...there needs to be a level of trust, that I won't be mocked; and, yet, triggers be damned! I might well need to be knocked or admonished, if some harm is part of those twists and turns. Of course, I don't want to get into specifics and details, because I do not trust the Facebook audience yet...

Feeling woefully ignorant abot politics and national news items. Feeling afraid to debate them online, or even in person; because I might show myself to be uninformed. Or, maybe I don't want to invest energy in informing others, in stemming perceived ignorance - because I don't want to hurt someone's feelings.

Gods be damned, though! We may be digging our own graves by passively allowing injustice to propogate, by turning a blind eye because we don't want to face the savagery of our fellows, or ourselves!

Like, letting business have lax regulation, leading to poisoned water supplies and earthquakes in new places and global warming cooking us in our filth....

My laundry alarm has gone off. I must away to get it put away.

(Perhaps more soon...)

lamenting the wastes of time...

what is important? ..necessary? ..kind?

There's a mountain of mail, I shoul hop in the shower soon, my physical therapy exercises gather dust - neglected.

I'm engaged in email exchanges; although I worry that chemistry will be my downfall, once again. that, or the stinging bite of poverty.

Looking for topics of conversation, when I don't keep up with news, or hobbies, or learning, or reading.

Stripped down to a naked guru, perhaps - is he really at peace in seclusion on the mountaintop? Or just become a wild animal, struggling to survive, stay fed and sheltered?

Crushing weight of a thousand paper cuts, deafened by collectors calling.

current music, if anyone's keeping track: "The Book of Eli" original soundtrack. First song first found on Spotify, then album amd artist recommended by a customer.

Fear grips me, when I speak, that I am no longer well-informed. No book smarts, no street smarts...

I keep hitting snooze when the alarms go off. I do not want to come back through the gates of horn and ivory - apathy here, not sure if that's the correct image Gaiman used for the entrance to Dreamlands but I don't want to fact-check it.

Why check facts when fantasy is so appealing? Why face the tedium of this modern life - so little satisfaction remains? Why wake, when I can wish?

Part of me wants to escape, to follow the call of the peace call, to just say "Fuck it All!!" and get out of the country, quickly. Part of me throws up his hands at the bill collectors and renewals and wishes for a sweet, hand-written letter from ladies I used to correspond with. Part of me grows bitter as the loves grow old, and they carve that pound of flesh from my still beating breast with knives or ice barbed with dead roses' thorns.

ok, maybe a little melodramatic, there. :)

Now, i chuckle... ah, irish proverb: "Nothing that a long nap, a good laugh, and a full meal can't fix" is probably misquoted but still holds some simple truths. My humor can be dark and twisted or light-hearted, we never know which wolf it may be feeding...

What is important? ..necessary? ..kind?

What am I doing with my life, and what can I be doing instead? Do I start the chase for another career, when time is so short? What am I not doing that needs to be done? How is my maintenance breaking down? How is my growth stunted? How are my true hobbies neglected? What can I do with this mountain of writing that I'm accumulating?

You see, money is easy to budget, if you're willing to sacrifice or struggle. Time, though, is a precious commodity, easily wasted and never regained. How many years have built up, with nothing of value retained?

Eh. time to shower. "All these memories lost, like tear drops in the rain..."

This is me, writing while "The Fellowship of the Ring" soundtrack plays on my headphones...

From an epic battle, to an elven sanctuary, I wonder what fires I need to put out, and then I'm reminded of that song from "The Hobbit", too... dwarves chanting about long-forgotten gold, in a key I can sing in.

Like Leonard Cohen and possibly Pink Floyd - melody in the bass line?

I watched "The Empire Strikes Back" two days ago, and I got a little teary-eyed in places... like Yoda feeling frustrated that Luke can not get his ship out.

Yes, I have a geek streak. I like sci-fi and fantasy, books and movies and music. I like fantastic places that I doubt I'll ever be able to visit in real life. Super-powers? Not so much...

I've hoped, at times, to be able to call the lightning from the sky to zap an annoyance. I've wanted to be able to teleport, to just "get there" already. Oh, and I guess telekinesis and telepathy would be grand traits, too.

Maybe, I'm not so much against the super-powers, as I am against all the fighting in the comics? I'd rather have complex stories with character development, than "Biff! Bam! Pow!" I also want those grayscales between the black and white painting of good and evil.... because the world is gray, more often than not.

Who's to say that life is a series of challenges and set-backs? Sure, cancer survivors give us hope, and landing a career that uses your college education is a good next step.. Yet, life is so much more than I, protagonist, making an uphill climb through the muck of society and the next achievements I strive for. My experience tells me it's so much more like that tangled knot I've seen than the steady uphill climb. I've definitely been distracted by chasing after frayed strings.

Is this where I chime in again, "I never wanted to be voted 'Most Likely to Succeed'!" The cliche clings to me still, that I have been abyssmally failing at life.... that my spoon supply is disintegrating, never to be replenished in the morning. There's the frustration from the dark recesses of my mind, egging me on, telling me to jump

And I spot that self-pity, and I look at those false expectations, and I sigh. I know that parts of my mind turn my critical eye inward. Some times, I need the stick instead of the carrot, to push me out of ennui.

A month into this new job, and I'm already chomping at the bit to get a new job. It would be wise to imagine the job ideal, kind of like the sex ideal - to ask myself, realistically, what are the minimum job requirements for me to thrive instead of just survive. What's a career I'd feel happy retiring in?

Perhaps this is my ongoing challenge gauntlet... to be useful for society, while growing and profiting at the same time.

Now, a nap, to recharge slightly..

Friday morning meditation stream

Focus: positive thoughts, positive intentions... gratitude... let go of fear.

How would a man of faith act in this (or that) situation?

(enjoying the Danny Elfman radio station on Spotify - current song: Ice Dance from Edward Scissorhands)

I was running late, then we decided to reschedule, now I have an hour to meditate

I think to look at kaleidoscopic art, to revel in the complex patterns they weave. I post to Facebook (queue Batman soundtrack, Danny) I catch a post reminding me that if I go to sleep in gratitude, I wake up refreshed and in gratitude...

now, the ten minute timer is set, because time is valuable?

an excellent reply to yesterday's frustrations streaming - reminding me to give the fear to God, and my career, and everything, really. Not to belittle, not to get frustrated... just focus and move forward. Grateful for all of my friends, and even for the difficult people -

phone call just now from student loan forgiveness programs: "Income-based? Or, you're doing fine!"

- (Danny, queue Lord of the Rings) some times, I think a little on the grandiose and epic side, yep...

what plans for the day? physical therapy is on the horizon, although i wonder if it is being foiled by my forgetfulness. just not making time to stretch, and i feel ok. yes, i don't have excellent freedom of motion... do i cut it off yet? talked with the lawyer this morning. some fear around accepting a settlement and then hidden injuries cropping up after that... also, not too sure what type of settlement is in the works. if it recovers co-pays, that would be fine, I guess.

today is the one day of the week that I devote to 7-Eleven. conflicted about loyalties versus low pay. they've been there when i had no job... i suspect i still need them to shore up the part-time income from the other jobs. i see tutees coming out of the woodwork, and I think, "Can I get tutoring rolling, too?" it's such a satisfying pursuit for my math mind...

alas, the ten minute timer is up. Do I spend an hour in meditation, because I don't think I can spend 20 minutes? Or do I break away from the computer, to make my way to my appointment, to begin my day, to contemplate my walking world while Danny and others play their lovely songs?

Yes. break away, and with the world, engage.

Late night Thursday stream...

Promises piling up...
What to write, who, and when?
The schedule is a nightmare -
Budgeting money with a shoestring income
Seems to hold much less complexity
Then dividing up Time's inexorable march
Between work, play, love, sleep, exercise, eating
And all those clamors for my attention.
Some have said,
"We make time for those who are important!"
I retort,
"Time slips through our fingers,
Like grains of sand, Lost in the stream -
And what you take for ignoring
May just be a casualty,
As my life is falling apart at the seams."
Would I rise up in revolt,
Come this November?
Would you?
All the wealth concentrating at the top,
Makes me sick to my stomach,
Beats me down,
Like a nail pounded into the wood -
My little service jobs
May ease along many to their relaxing beer;
Yet my formerly iron will
Has tuned to a crumbling rust,
And the pieces that I join
Are in danger
Of separation,
Unable to stand together,
Flush with each other.

Attempted meditation stream, 21 September

Thus begins the stream. 15 minutes of writing, with few to no stops, hoping to clear away dust on my brain, and maybe uncover some buried gems?

Had a hard time getting out of bed, this morning.. kept snoozing for 3 hours. Got me worried about getting my laundry done. Still, I got it started...

Headed off to tutor a friend, and had to resurrect my tutor's hat - lots of questions for the student, in the hope that they can construct a method for attacking the problems. there's a trade-off between being a "guide on the side" or a "sage on the stage". With the first, I can get very frustrated, but it's much harder to gauge where the student is at, with the second.

Hoping for the a-ha moment, tutoring, when some method clicks into the place, and seeing the student's confidence blossom as they begin to work the problems independently. Their method may not be exactly like my method, but I must be careful on passing judgements as to which works better...

all in all, i think the tutoring went well. i saw some progress, and that's always good.

found out that my second student of the day has been home sick this week, so they had to cancel. Some relief there, as I still have not got a great idea of tackling what sounds like their math anxiety. certainly, their math frustrations. This was good, though, as it gave me a chance to finish my laundry... my sheets were in desperate need of washing, stinking like they did of sweat and dirt...

Changed the washer/dryer loads, and went to eat at Buffet Palace. May have been spending money that could have been spent elsewhere, but i've feeling nutritionally deprived by my meals of late. I was craving veggies, but i ate sushi and fried foods instead. *sigh*

got home, and found that I had overloaded the dryer. Took out the clothes that did get dry, and restarted the cycle. Proceeded to hop on the laptop and crank out answers to 41 surface-probing questions. a little fun - been a bit since i've done one of those chain icebreaker posts.

then i went to an AA meeting, and chatted with an old AA friend. I had also been chatting with another friend before the meeting, while answering those questions. got home, and chatted with house mates. some level of connection felt in all that...

I did not have to work my regular jobs today, which was a welcome relief. I have been working at one or the other of the two, every day, since Monday, August 29. Ironically, that was my birthday. Unfortunately, the shifts have still been short, and I've been too exhausted to prepare my own food, so I've been eating out at the cheap Mexican restaurant, Arranda's, quite a bit. I'm making some headway on my back rent, but not quite as fast as I'd like. ...and a past due credit card has been calling me, incessantly. It even interrupted that first student's tutoring session today.

Yes, I would like a job that pays more than $10 per hour, and has a flexible schedule. I imagine I could make ends meet at $20 per hour, 24 hours per week... It would be very nice to keep my board gaming alive and well, and maybe some role-playing games, too...

I told myself, write for 15 minutes, but the timer went off, two paragraphs ago. So, I will stop now, and see what happens when I publish this...

41 questions about me

Because Sioxsie Asked me to do it... I might tag people at the end, to prod them to do this, too...

1. WHO ARE YOU NAMED AFTER?
Still a little unclear on the nickname Jody, but I was named after Joseph, from the Old Testament. You know, had a multi-colored cloak, sold into slavery, became Pharoah's dream interpreter... check out the musical, if you'd like more detail.

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
Not entirely sure. I've been frustrated a bit, at times; and angry... but I can't remember my last cry. I suspect it was when I got a bad eye irritant, like road fumes in my face at the bus stop.

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
I kind of like my hand-printing. My cursive, though, is very sloppy. I also quite enjoy maybe a third of the things I write about.

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Pastrami has a nice meat to spice ratio.

5. DO YOU HAVE CHILDREN?
None that I'm aware of...

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
I'd respect the gentility and humility of me, but probably wonder I never call or write.

7. DO YOU ENJOY DOING LAUNDRY?
Once in a blue moon. Folding laundry definitely has meditative possibilities.

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
I've forgotten most of my childhood, so I don't know. I think I do, though. My wisdom teeth, on the other hand...

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
Definitely curious about it. Not sure how my fear of falling would react.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
These days, Raisin Bran sprinkled with sugar sounds pretty good - and sliced bananas!

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
No. But then I have to untie them to put them on...

12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?
Physically, I'm average. However, mentally? Considering some of the trials I've had, I'd think I'm Superman.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
So many choices. Probably would have nuts and caramel and cookie bits all mixed in to a basic Mexican Vanilla - sort of like an Amy's Ice Cream creation. Maybe add a cherry or two, too.

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
I try to reserve judgement until I've interacted with them for a while. I probably pay attention to how they treat me, to decide if I want to continue interacting with them in the future.

15. RED OR PINK?
Pshaw!! Blue...

16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF?
At the moment, probably my weight or my body odor. Or, wait... my extreme poverty level.

17. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
Camouflage knee-length shorts, and black anti-slip shoes.

18. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
About three hours ago, I went to Buffet Palace and had sushi and fried appetizers.

19. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT Now?
Nothing musically. I can hear the air conditioner blowing, full-steam, and my room mate cleaning the kitchen.

20. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Midnight Blue

21. FAVORITE SMELL?
Flowers?

22. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
Some guy from my credit card company, trying to collect payment

23. FAVORITE SPORT TO WATCH?
Not a big fan of most sports.

24. HAIR COLOR?
It varies between blonde, auburn, and brown. Depends if I'm braving sunlight.

25. EYE COLOR?
Ice blue.

26. WEAR CONTACTS?
Quite happy with glasses, if I get to pick out the frames.

27. FAVORITE FOOD?
So many choices... I think I'm happiest at an Indian food buffet.

28. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
Animation...

29. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
I think the "Captain America: Civil War", when it premiered?

30. WHAT COLOR UNDERWEAR ARE YOU WEARING?
Some sort of plaid boxer shorts. Probably either shades of red, or shades of blue.

31. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Winter, but in Texas.

32. HUGS OR KISSES?
Both! Maybe a nice massage, too...

33. Favorite deserts?
I haven't visited any, but I think I'm curious about the Gobi Desert. I think that might have been the one Gaiman wrote about in his "Sandman" comic about Marco Polo meeting Fielder's Green?

34. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU CURRENTLY READING?
I guess it would be "What If?" by the author of the web-comic xcdf(?)... it's been a while since I picked it up, though. Unfortunately, most of my reading these days spawns off of Facebook posts.

35. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
I don't have a mouse pad. I'm using the dining room table to move my mouse on.

36. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT?
No TV, for a while. Usually playing board games or RPG's with friends, for entertainment; or, going online, if I'm by myself. I also play several games on my phone, too.

37. FAVORITE SOUND?
Texas thunderstorms.

38. ROLLING STONES or BEATLES?
Pink Floyd.

39. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE EVER TRAVELED?
Probably Michigan.

40. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
I have mad abilities in mathematics...

41. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
Ann Arbor, MI

Entertain me. Copy, paste. Just for fun...

"To Move Mountains?" (P.o.t.D. 7/8/2016)

What words can I say,
Convince them to walk away
From valleys of death?

(Unfortunately,
I feel my words hold no weight,
and so, my heart breaks...)

"Roadkill" (P.o.t.D. 6/16/16)

A twisted skeleton
Beside busy highway -
Umbrella abandoned
When fierce rains made it splay,
Upward, outward, useless?

A corpse lays in the street -
Server's black cash apron,
Tossed away in the heat
Of mad furies from work,
When she was called useless...

So much trash, scattered 'round;
Relics of our culture
That one day will be found
By descendents, for sure,
Who cast us as useless.

"Celebrating Rain" (P.o.t.D. 6/16/16)

Happy about rains,
Plants stretch sweet flowers to me
Along walks to work.

Blade Runner end scene quote

"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die." -Roy Batty, Bladerunner

"Times Unjust" (P.o.t.D. 6/12/16)

Life has lost its luster,
Dulled by bickering and fighting,
And having to choose
From a menu chock full of bad diets.

Love tries to find root,
Cracking a stone-dead heart,
Raising bile when threatened
By senseless attacks upon the cherished.

This is but an impromptu piece,
Written on the cuff,
Attempting to capture
The despair, the ennui, the lonely place..?

So, forgive, if you will,
Or revile, if you must,
This feeble spark of anger
In the face of times unjust.

I've gone 3 weeks now, without fulfilling my commitment to make coffee at 1313 for the Mondays in May.

I'm not even sure if I will make good attempts to brew the coffee over the next two Mondays.

Partly because of fear... uncertain if they will be angry or critical of me for my truancy thus far.

Partly because of a different fear - that of being late to my paid job, at 10 p.m. Even though the meeting ends at 7 p.m. and the bus system is fairly reliable.

It's not like making coffee is difficult; as I've done this commitment multiple times in the past easily and with much praise. It's not like making the meeting is a challenge, either; as I can get plenty of sleep between now and then, and I know the bus schedules and the weather is probably going to be sunny.

I see parallels between this and between my past employment truancies, which were fueled by not wanting to explain why I called in sick when I really just didn't want to do the work.

There's the rub, I guess. My heart's not in this service commitment. That, in turn, points at a deeper resentment of doing AA 12th Step work, or offering to be a sponsor, or even sharing; because I'm not getting any feedback. I don't see people acknowledging that I have anything to offer. I wonder if I'm not paying enough attention to catch the subtler signs of acceptance.

I haven't seen outright criticism, or practical jokes. That, coupled with severe course disruptions (.666 gpa), probably led to my abandoning Alpha Phi Omega; even though I was a Top Ten volunteer for the two semesters that I was active in that...

Then again, maybe people think I'm too serious, too intimidating. Yeah, I try not to make jokes, because I can see how jokes can be lightly-veiled attacks. ...or maybe I come off as untrustworthy, because I'm not trusting you enough to joke around.

Probably all just psycho-babble processing.

I need a feedback loop.

I can't sustain operating in a vacuum.

Elusive sleep,
Chased away by caffeine?

Or just delayed
By sleeping so late,
Yesterday?

"The Mind-Killer" (P.o.t.D. 5/13/16)

Fear lurks in the shadows of my brain,
Just waiting to eat me alive again.

A poem percolates, simmers, and stews
All but devoid of today's news...

Like an ostrich tasting dusky desert sand,
The ideas feel so blocked, perhaps banned.

I want to write, but I know not what to write about;
Leaving me to throw incoherant tantrums
Where I jump up and down and incoherently shout...
As it all boils down, some juicy bits I hope to trim....

"confusion" (P.o.t.D. 4/18/16)

A brain begat a babbling brook
Of weary words, and worries weird...

St. Paddy's Quote

"A good laugh and a long sleep are the best two cures for anything."
- Irish proverb

Modesty must make my mind muddled...

When Meetings Fade Away

I have yet to see
The infamous search party
Sent to rescue me...

VD Lament?

I do not want to be
That sad, single guy;
Always that nice guy
Who never finds love...

I do not want to be
A bad annoyance,
A street harasser,
Solely focused on looks...

So, what do I want to be?

I want to value and respect your mind.
I want be funny, yet still kind.
Is there a soul mate, for me to find?

I wish ladies would be forthright and open,
Expressing any love and attraction for me;
Because I would rather that they have that power...
Then again, what if I reject their advance?

I've tried dating web sites
With very little success -
I'd rather date within my friends,
Yet, I know not who I impress...

Trust me on this:
You have to be open and direct,
Because I'm an introvert
And so apt to miss
Subtle and coy clues
While I'm wrapped up in my own head.

There's a beast in me,
That animal drive
That wants physical affection and more -
Yet it is at war
With my ego and super-ego
Who want peace in the community,
Who fear getting tangled up with a friend:
"What if their feelings end?"

I am thankful for the tokens of love,
Scattered in front of me -
Rides home with friends, holiday invites,
Tidbits shared from our pasts...

I just feel like I get lost in the crowd,
Because I do not drop one-liners?
Because silence is easy to dismiss?