Sunday, August 30, 2009

Thinking of the red maple in the yard of my boyhood home
I can trace a line from there to here
from that boy to this one
walking those old roads is something like how the imagination must smell
newest scent mere memory of Time and place of emotion
and in these lay even those fabricated ones read or imagined
in all this I find the value and weight of everything now
of this life I admire all trees becuase of that one
for every thing a former was born
what I ask myself Am I concieveing this moment
when may its future blossomng arrive
to weave a hope for every moment save the last which can only look forward
to make that most unnatural leap above every hope and beyond all beauty and desire

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Tallyho

Hello compadres, sorry for the delay, a family wedding one move and a stifling heat wave have uterly tied my creative philopian in one solid knot. I guess the summer has got the better of us all.
My approach with this thing was to really challenge myself and consistently craft some fiction and poetry worthy of, well, something. Like all of my undertakings,(meditation,stomach crunch's,sobriety), I started weak and tapered to nothing at all. So rather than intimidate myself clear off the page I decieded to simply right what ever I can on my given day, so forgive me if I bore If i defy good sense if I murder the page or occasionaly whine eaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa........... Im just trying to keep my head in. At the end of this what excites me most is'nt simply creation its the fact of communication so rather than attempt to impress or avoid this thing I'd like us to share something, anything.
I know most of this group pretty well and consider it an intimate forum with some of my all time favorite people and to those I dont know, you get points by association,for being within this world system,upon this planet,Invited to this very group, what are those odds? so mabey we write.....eh?

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Staying Positive In Modern Times (without medication)

Look on the bright side.

I'm sitting on a bench in the recently reopened and remodeled Washington Square Park. It's finally dirty again after just a few weeks. It was just too clean when the chain link fences came down. It's like the filth of mankind wanted to smother this pristine park.

I started therapy. Sliding scale counseling work at Adelphi's psychology dept down off of Varick. Not sure how much I'll have to actually pay, which is good because I'm only now finding steady enough freelance work to pick myself up after this economy knocked me down. It's more helpful than I thought, this ranting at a young grad student who's bitten off more than she can chew.

We're going to discuss medication next week, but for now, I'm on my own. Well, I have nicotine & caffeine, and maybe some hops & liquor to help me get by. A hearty dose of hormones and chemicals from my daily meals and I'm good to go. Toss in a dash of sunlight and enough exercise to stave of atrophy. Golden.

I find it is the idle mind that is vulnerable to societal sabotage. Something about constant movement fights off the spiraling depression of modern living. Small acomplishments, or at least momentary satisfaction (which works for most), are the markers on your path to mental health. Of course too much walking in circles, dwelling in distraction, floundering in fiction, will only lead to depression.

Upwards and onwards young man! Make sure every step is bigger than the last. Resolve your problems, change your mind, redefine yourself constantly. Be open to the universe, try not to question the personal disasters, accept and see the good in everything around you. Odds are, the things you're upset about are probably just comfortable pains.

There's something utterly defineable of self in regards to our personal problems. We often cling to them, prefferring the familiarity of discomfort over the unknown potential. Complaining is just so satisfying sometimes. Especially when you're competing with the others in your life. Easier to dive deeper than them, rather than try and lift them all up with you.

It leads to isolation which is another depression pitfall. For some reason so many of us can not be alone. At least the television is on, or our pets snuggle up to us, allowing us to feel connected to reality, if not actively engaging it. The idea of silence in a room alone is maddening to some, inconcievable and impossible a task.

Is it the whirlpool of despair that sucks at our souls as we either remain oblivious or living in utter denial, escaping into our own fantasies? I've found that creating is what keeps the flames of hell at bay. Every spare moment I'm consumed with the desire to write. I've a multitude of projects going at this point in my life.

Is it all just another overconsumed escapist drug? Possibly, but at the end of it all I'll have something carved out in letters that sears its way into your brains, and hopefully makes a difference. Hopefully it helps.

Don't worry, be happy.

K

Sunday, August 2, 2009

try as i might

The Small craft glided effortless within a small inlet impressed upon the face of the rock, perpendicular to this lay a sheer wall and try as he might Sirus could not see its end before the swoon of vertigo and rapid entrance into the small clear eyelet within its face would overtake his efforts. Still peering out the small oracular window Sirus could see people standing and walking at the oddest angles minus any discernable floors or walls and beyond this lay space humming its cold awe full refrain. Abruptly the craft pivoted sharply to the right descended a small clear tunnel and let out upon a stainless tarmac which for its solidity Sirus thanked all that was holy.

Now within the retaining room sirus was systematically scanned by various colored lights, a loud ding signified his clearance as he was shuffled quickly along to the next chamber whereupon he was prodded poked and scrubbed by a series of small mechsicans, (small droids bearing no relation to the earth people), The humor not lost on him. Grinning madly Sirus approached the phisting chamber, (named for Ronald e phister scientist responsible for density adjustment technologies), once inside Sirus became one one hundredth of his natural weight, now hysterical He was shot quickly through a length of vertical corridor some 1400 yards clear into what would be his living complex, exiting the chamber Sirus reclaimed his original weight as a large shirtless man-titted clown greeted him across the face with a large slippery fish.



Sorry this one got away from me….