Thursday, November 1, 2012

Everybody loves cute puppies and drooling cats!

More writing, more pictures. Nothing important to anyone but me. But you want to look, you want to read. The cute sick puppy compels you.


3/6/12
Job hunting ballet
Hidden deep in the Jungle
Countless exhibitions have failed
To bring back even one petal
Nothing tangible
Only allegory and fabrications
Chanted by elders to the young.
Generations of myths woven
An endless tapestry
Telling tales
Incapable of being forgotten.
The integrity of belief
Balanced
On Hope and Ego.

 



9/14/09
I’m waiting for you outside
and it’s cold in the sun
But I am patient, like time.
The moments are always the same and bright
and never not only one.
So now I wait with tears turned stars,
only for me. Alone.
But never alone.


9/9/09
Torn from moment to moment
Humming bird, brain fart
This is the middle
Of the shift, all dizzy.
Blind to nothing, but
Unable to see anything, but
I need to stop looking
Need to redirect
Need to focus
Need, deep breaths.
Stop panting
Stop shaking
Deep breaths
Stop twitching.
Focused
To the rhythm inside
Unaware of the noise
Outside,
Just the task at hand.
Reckless moments need to stop
This teetering is not acclimating
The offers of endless wisdom
The volumes of tranquil Now,
Repeating over and over again.
Now is.


9/3/09
The regeneration generator
Will not ignite, the switch is broken.
The doors are swollen, bloated and in the way.
Tripping over limbs must look like dancing from outside.
The reality is that the suffering of others is
Pleasing to view from the observation area.
Waiting turns to watch the next one in line shot down
Makes you smile as a mechanism fires a bolt between the ears.
Painless.
I’m sick of honesty! I’m sick of having no one
To tell the truth to! I’m sick of being.
Remove from within the mess. Remove the layers of humanity
I don’t want to feel like this anymore, but nothing seems to change.
The world can be a beautiful place when you are a part of it.

2009?
This Golden Age
Of decay we stand proud
Against a backdrop of god and glory.
Abundance is the light of desire
In these times of change.
These words used to come so easily,
But I allowed you to beat them out of me!
No longer will this dam stand, holding back the blood in my body.
Shock
The walls are broken or breaking
The air is vibrating
The mood is changing.
Necessity supersedes desire
In times of suffering
Split not twice.




2011?
I would like to fall apart
I would like to touch your heart
I would like to be able to feel
I would like some more time to heal
I would like the world to stop
And when it does, I’d like to quietly get off
I would like to live a lie
And I would like to touch the sky
I would like to see the truth
I would like to not get hurt.
          I would like to find
          Your palace in the sky
          Grab you by your throat
          And throw you back to Earth
          And show you what you’ve done
          What you did to us first
And cannot be undone.


8/15/07
The last drops of blood drip out of the radio
Static means not moving
Frozen in space
The echo of silence beating against itself
Bruised beyond awareness.
The magnitude of disbelief
Rumbling
Turning over and over
          Rhythmic like an unbalanced washing machine
          And the scream
          Is in you.
Within that important place
Behind someone else’s eyelids.
And temptations flicker on and off
A celebration of inspired ideas
Exploding in the distance
The faint smell of burnt hotdogs,
Manure, gasoline, cigarettes
And maybe a little vomit and weed.


2007?
This is more than real
Say it,
Now as forever
This is the world
In a word
Sent down from under the parting folds in heaven
The triumphant return
Of dynamic creation.
That first one was fake,
Because faking it somehow gets you
In the mood.
But every single time after that
And until you were collapsed
And done
Were waves of electric light and
Touch shattering across touch
And connecting to our own universe
I know you feel it too.


Undated
Lips press down upon lips
Pressing hard against lips
And gasping for air between lips
That grinds and melts into lips
Longing to feel the pressure of my lips
Feeling the pressure of your lips
Pushing up forcing down
The volatile combination of passion and
Exhaustion, lust and pre-dawn inebriation.

Beautiful and decadent,
Dirty and sublime.




3/28/01
The reason I care
I’m such a bitter jaded fuck
Ugly, like after the war.
In life, these things are simple:
The ugly prophet and the truth
Teacher and student,
Seeking symbols to translate meaning
To other worlds, so that even when no one cares,
We all have the ability to understand.
The deception is blatant
Nothing is as simple as it seems.


2/11/01
The electronic hiss and buzz of static
Across the terminals of silence
This is a conception,
An epiphany.
It is a chorus of angels
Singing silent hymns to the creator of your choice.
It is blood from the eyes
as you stare into the sun.
It’s the silver scream of the moon
As she impales herself on the Earth
Over and over again.
This sound is inside
It is our link
With what was and will be.
But it’s not quite now.
We have all seen each other
From the inside.
That is why we can’t view each other from the outside.


12/19/00 1:17PM
Spent the last 15 minutes
 In bed,
Thinking… about getting up
Thinking… about not wanting to move.
          Demotivated makes me feel devalued
          Deactivated, machine whirring slowly to a halt.
          Deflated position becoming an option
          With great disregard to the sender.
A foreign language appears on the walls
(In black and white)
The subject quietly changed to
Soundtrack.
As whispers slink across the floor
To rest at my feet.
The wonders of modern machinery
And the miracles of science
Curiosities that are yet to appear
And a magical connection
Between heart and eyes.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Oh,

and there are these.






 
So, yeah...

It's about time!

It has been almost a year since my last post. It's about time to share some of the stuff I've been working on.

Here is a short and silly video of me and my friend Maude walking towards the Williamsburg Bridge on our way to see Cut Hands in February.


Quite a few new PKtP tracks, in case you haven't been listening on soundcloud.  The three most recent...

I was sitting in the garden
Meditating
Contemplating the nature of things
When an Angel appeared to me

Beautiful and neutral
And only aware of it’s own Nature (It’s own Existence)
Innocently deceptive
Maniacally gentile

They as one in voices
Reflected in two
Approached me with a calming  resign in their eyes
And terror in its motion 

Long bony divine fingers
Probe sternly at my chest
Creating
A stern sense of panic
In my heart….

I took a deep breath
And waited –
This blink of a pause
Held on
For an eternity

The Angels blank eyes peered deep into mine
And it exhaled as it opened its mouth
Anxiously reassuring

An Angel told me that you were a bitch
And all was now right with the World
Trumpets, they sounded
And mountains shook
As the Angel faded away

A soundtrack
Shit in a shiny package                                    
- November, 2011
The indignant
Will feel the wrath of the suffering.

Count the days

This is only the beginning.
This is now.
This is a spark in a specific point
In always.

Suffocation and attrition
Invisible behind the glamour.
40 years ago it was ok to be revolutionary!
But “god” forbid
You think to yourself,
“Thank god for 9/11
and those damned terrorists.”
Otherwise they’d be blowing up the stock exchange.
 A picture from my now gone myspace page. Yes, that is my foot.