Thursday, November 8, 2012

Than Bauk

over black wine
feeling fine, i
think time over.

over you now
don't ask how, as
for now I'm done.

done again, sure
you concur, and
you cure us all.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Stand still

Stand still
know the world
Is not you.
you will hear it.
you will see it.
Reach out
you will feel it.
Your path
your mountain
your orbit-
your lions.
They are
not mine and
mine are
not yours.
The guiding light
of your orbit
sheds illumination
upon my own.
And we join
and become
and merge
millions of lives
colliding stars
called humanity.
Hopeful and hopeless.
Mortal and immortal.
Goodness and Evil
Growing and dying.
Wonderous and terrifying.
Jealous Angels hover.

Friday, May 18, 2012

To Know

Beyond flat plains
of olden time told
where all seems new,
and tick-tocks count
destiny's slow approach.
Stars hurl through space
hours but milestones
marching by in single file
reeling by in earth time.
The Shaman reaches
for the tesseract,
the wrinkle in time;
a foothold is gained
upon ground not lately trodden.
shining stars surge and shift
and she slowly walks along
the surface of time.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

flesh wounds

ripped dripping
skin strips
bones show
tissues glow raw
throat throttled
screams silenced
despite despair.
metallic scented air.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Why she can't write.

She often sits and wonders of
her own reluctance to describe
in adjectives and phrases,
her trials and tribulations
believing that to write it down
would make it worse,
or even, perhaps, more real.
The usual struggle with voice ensued,
settling finally on third person
to put distance between herself and it.

"It" is the story. The tale of woe. The Memoir,
the three headed hydra-snapping and snarling,
drawing blood with the gnashing teeth
the claws that snatch
at her soul, her sanity.

Standing waist deep in a sea of shit,
holding back hordes
of undead flesh eaters and
the occasional swarm of killer bees.
She, always the magician
she pulls the rabbit from the hat
with a sleight of hand.
Or perhaps a money trick, a payoff.

Once more they recede
only to return another day
with renewed vim and vigor,
and she again will pick up
the vorpal sword of words
to seize the tame the tale!
Her pen the medusa head
to turn them all to stone
and still the ever-writhing story
perhaps to slay it dead, one day.

for meeting the bar

Wednesday, January 25, 2012


5 months. Wow. 5 months since I posted to my Slobbsblogg. How bad is THAT? So much has happened, is happening and I get so bogged down in the drama and the worry and the day to day mundane, all other things pass me by. Including, I guess you my trusty blog. My whipping post. My deepest cut.
The sun comes up and the sun goes down and I grow older and still nothing is different. Why beat a dead horse? Why lament? Why cry over the spilled milk, I ask you? Who wants to know my inner workings? Who really gives a shit?
Ha, now thats the crux, isn't it? Who indeed.

Well as I type this I am trying to figure out where to go from here. More prose? Who Knows?

All I am is all I am and I am not you, and you are not me. These are things I have discovered. Another thing i have discovered Is that I have been programmed, like Data, or Robby the Robot or some other android. You push a button and I dispense help, advice, money, (fill in the blank)..I am also paranoid, distrustful and a downright bitch. But I haven't always been a downright bitch. I used to be nice. A nice lady. Someone called me that the other day and I looked at him slanted like to see if he was making fun of me. All he said was "hey, nice lady." But he was smiling like a snake so who knows if he meant it. He's sort of a bitch too.

Here is something someone told me today when I made a comment, perceived as out of order. " I accept your fear and worry as compassion."
Well whodathunkit? I never looked at it quite that way. I suddenly felt patronized for being a bitch. HAHAHAHA.... moving right along, who is reading this? Lets see a show of hands. Have you all gone bye bye or are you still hanging around waiting to see if I croak and leave you some money. That's a joke. I have no money.

Love ya...