Moving.

I have moved my poetry blog "the platitudes of willful resemblance" over to WordPress with a stand alone domain address... willfulresemblance.com -
I am also exporting this blog to there and will now be combining the two. Thank you for your readership here and following me on WordPress is easy! There are two options...
1. in the top right column there is an option for e-mail delivery and
2. you can still follow from blogger. Just scroll down on the dashboard to where the sites are listed that you currently follow - under that is a button that says "add" - click that and insert the address of my new home - www.willfulresemblance.com - and voila!
If you use blogger in draft - the "add" button will be at the top of your following list.

have a great, mentally stable day.

 - Jhon

ill-sleep

night full of sounds keeping my attention burned toward all windows and doors. Fireworks last night coming from the abandoned golf course/coyote home tempting nature to blaze a fire in the tall grass. I nearly roused myself to avoid the fitful turning and secluded in my writing room to answer letters and reach out to some who do not send letters.
I'd a poem in mind which needed writing and ended as a haiku last night - but may be expanded or not. Shortened possibly.
nightmares which I instantly recall in vivid color but cannot bring myself to verbalize here or in life. I long to sleep without bad dreaming and without attention to sound.

I listened to Jesus Christ Superstar remembering when I last saw this show. After, as I stood behind a woman in a beautiful fur coat (bunny I believe) smoking a cigarette - Somehow I managed to burn several holes through the fur to resemble a smiley face - I don't know how that happened but it did, and that was the second time it happened to me. A number of people saw it but no-one said a word and all of them smiled.

I have a problem with people who don't live in the extreme north wearing fur.

I'm a hypocrite as I wear leather shoes, belt and jacket - the jacket while I am riding the m/cycle. No-one has ever thrown blood on me but I don't think I'd blame them.

woke up early

then promptly took a nap.

last night the sound of glass breaking alerted me into action - pistol in hand I searched the house then the grounds around my home and my mother-in-laws - It was a sound that I've been dreading but there was, thankfully nothing or no one about.
After I awoke to every little noise and shadow movement perceived through half closed eyes.

most of the time these sounds and such as faces on the outside of the widow are of my minds making but K had heard it as well. I can only imagine what was going through the neighbors heads at one thirty if they saw me walking around with pistol pointed out - flashlight and laser on. I drew down on a raccoon who appeared scared shitless to have been met with the business end and a laser pointing at its head. The trigger was not pulled - otherwise this would be a story about how I am the killer of raccoons.

 and now for something of a tangent

One of my favorite artists is completing yet another painting that I want - this makes more than I can count. I only own one of his but I want more to adorn the walls of my writing room and home. His art challenges me to write and paint and love  - check him out here - HERE! - Warning: he doesn't sell his art which is a serious loss to folks like me.

I've been victimized but refuse to play the part of victim. I have survived but instead decide to live as on who persists.

living with contradictions

living with contradictions,

feigning indifference.

I persist.

 - Hoc Scripsi

My Child is singing in the next room - I love to hear him and he makes up his own songs, rarely singing that written by others. He is influenced only by life and finds its best expression in song and poetry.

SSI

Finished applying for Disability and now onto the appointment with SS for the SSI - this is the hardest thing I've ever done and now the bees are circling - damn allergy is going to bring me inside for awhile. I've had to beat my heart against this wall to do it, admit that I am disabled and unable to secure work, meaningful or not - any work. There are only so many hours in the day that I can be really active and usually those are spent on my wife and son, writing and Legos. Legos are the shit.

what is that wetness??

abrupt wake up in where I considered shooting my wife's cat. Little bastard pissed on my blanket to awaken me - which is odd as I don't feed them - ever. That is K's responsibility - I clean out the litter box and pet them - one sleeps on me sometimes and is my buddy (he had never pissed on my blanket which ended up on my foot), good cat he is.
I'll have to dig it up and finish it sometime today but I once wrote a little thing about cleaning up after the cats, a miserable job but I have the olfactory senses that allow me to be instantly reminded to get it done asap.
Having a great sense of smell is not a blessing though, I also have olfactory hallucinations where at any time I will smell something so powerfully it makes me light headed - sometimes it's all roses and candy or chicken - other times it's all feces and rot. I've sussed no pattern to it.

I've only six followers here - why? I only blog when I feel like it and the public is fickle, they want entertainment every day or they forget you exist. that is okay, this is a place for me to write and sharing is a sideline because I somehow feel better about it once I've hit "publish post".

?

What day is it? Monday? D-Day? going soon to get my head shrunk though I've no illusions of grandeur.
Spent the weekend tied to my laptop and when not, watching "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory". Both versions played and there was some poetry written but not much. Today I owe letters to two friends, maybe three.
I am bound to this mind for eternity - as I am tethered to this coffee and cigarette for the next ten minutes.
I've no love for the wicked and therefore hold no hatred -
though I've a hard on in the wrong week and my mustache needs a trim.

contemplate my dis-ease, contemplate why it couldn't have been cancer.

I brush my teeth once a day - sometimes twice. I've stopped wearing deodorant as it causes me to itch and turn my armpits red, I need a shower and the ghosts in the windows are ever present while the noise screeches loudly like snow on a fifties television set.
I change my underwear and socks daily, but not my slacks - showering about two to three times per week keeps me clean and I have no particular scent that anyone finds offensive.
I wear shoes from the moment I awake to the moment I lay to sleep.
I drink Orange juice, water and coffee. rarely anything else -
I love guns, fine art and poetry. I love my wife and this is my advice for all - love yer wife, love yer life.

The death of Dr. K

Well, the right to death with appropriate dignity champion is gone and there is no one to take the mantle, who would? I can champion the right for others and possibly myself to die but there are no initials after my name, there are none that would find comfort in my own method of passing before God sees fit to do it on his/her own.
I'm thinking a .380 or a 9mm - nothing bigger or smaller as that would be messier than necessary or potentially ineffective. Nothing would be worse than dying in a mental institution for the suicidal - being grouped around the ineffective teenage angst of daddy doesn't get me or mommy wants me to pee sitting only - I would reccomend that you have pity on your loved ones and cover the joint in plastic and call 911 right before you pull the trigger.
Most people would want to go the good doctors way - peacefully and loaded on pain killers.
I just want to go out suddenly but I have a facination with being assassinated and my mother drempt of it and my son dreams of it - I wouldn't mind going out like that - like an honest poet.
The last poet to be gunned down was WIllie Lee Bell Jr - in front of his Florida night club - Before that Garcia Lorca who is my own hero - just give me a government to stand against... oh, yeah, I have that - only it is better than Franco while being as deceiving as Castro at times.
oops - I may lose all followers for that one... Maybe I ought to admit I voted for him as well, maybe I ought to admit that he has been a disappointment but possibly still better than the given alternative but this is about assisted suicide and the right to end our own lives.

I love my misreads

on another blog I saw...

Assholes... it is Friday... and life is good!

that isn't what was written but it is what my mind wanted to read. so there you have it...


Assholes, it is Friday and life is good.

woke up today with a massive headache - from a tenseness in the shoulder region, bridging into the neck region.
this is always an ominous start to the day - I prefer sex dreams which are always an auspicious start to the day.
Although waking with a massive erection is a bit of trouble and waiting for it to subside usually results in falling back to sleep.

today I am mostly waiting for the headache to mend and trying to figure a way out of doing the dishes.

the bells in the chapel sounded

do you love me.

I found god, the devil, narcotics and heaven in situ.

areas close to the Grimsvotn volcano were plunged into darkness.

and the day passed without further recourse, without further comment.

back to writing but feel there needs to be something new. Some other aberration to full the void of the quintessential. 

entropy is perpetually resolute.

people ain't no good

so much pain in these past days - finally I took four times the prescription to be able to sleep - awoke in the middle of the night and made love to my wife, hobbled around the house for a cigarette after and fell back to sleep. Drug induced sleep is never restful but that wasn't the point, it was to escape pain, escape teeth breaking clenched jaws and now I am having slight hallucinations and still in incredible pain.
Once asked how I would define the last four years of my existence - what one word to sum it all, everything I've learned, everything I'd experienced -- all I could say was not love although the love thrust upon me from my wife was extraordinary - pain was what my lips couraged up. Pain has defined my existence for now four and a half years, barely controlled rage from said pain and narcotics and it's not like I get high, it's not like I can enjoy the crippling addiction to opiates, narcotics and sympathetic nerve control medications, I cannot enjoy the shaking hand and hallow feel ebb away once the drugs take effect, I cannot enjoy the simplicity of walking to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

I try to not complain.

really.


today and yesterday and the day previous has been an experience of bordering on going to the hospital for a near lethal amount of Dilaudid.
but pain is loud and I cannot scream through its cacophonous discombobulation.

power to us whores! our form of proletariat prostitution need no pimp!

I once had a heart

I have a love

power to us whores! our form of proletariat prostitution need no pimp!

I once had a heart

Love regards people as mystics, casting their powers of future perception against another torrid lovers premonition.
The diseased mind finally discovers the secret of happiness but it is not accepted so it makes those practicing it miserable.
dreamt last night about playing an electric guitar with heavy use of the tremolo bar, making the strings ride against the fret board, I've tried this many times and have been unable to produce the sounds the dream tells me I want.
the medication levels the mind while making it harder to express these same thoughts. though the end product may be better, it is harder. Four daily medications make the writing better, the sex better, and anger better.
also, they make the moments of staring into apace more profound in quality, more consistent in quantity.
I can hear song birds congregate next door where we've recently placed a bird feeder. It is always easier to give away things that require upkeep then try to have them around your property, like said bird feeder or pets.
the reemergence of insanity lost me most of my friends but those that stayed get to enjoy the cure. Ironically they became my friends before the psychosis went into remission and left when it came out of remission.
I am not lost without them.
I am simply unburdened of them and their troubles.

I've decided to end this one by saying, _________________.

last night intertwined with pain - all night and this morning. I've set myself to sedentary after making breakfast for my lovely wife. There aren't enough pain killers to make it vanish or even forgettable, often I dream of blowing a hole through the center of my thigh to necessitate its removal. I am told this will not end the agony that is my existence.
I try to not complain because after four and a half years - who's listening?

On other fronts: looking around at sandboxes that sell for unbelievable amounts of money I've decided to make one - I'll save 200 usd on the cheap side and far more on the nicer side. It'll take an afternoon of playing with my power tools where hopefully I don't end up with another gash in my hand.

The bastards that make up most of my nighttime dreaming are ever present and on edge.

Imagine a well armed poet ambling down the street at night looking for his angry fix.

you now have a picture in mind of yours truly.

snapshots of life are moments gone by, how not to dwell when they adorn the walls of houses and bedroom nightstands?

All the cats in the house are trained by an alarm clock to know when it is time to eat - this is the morning. In the afternoon and evening - it is the coffee grinder. We have Pavlov's cats because I don't care for dogs.
Or rather, I haven't been able to love a dog since I had minekilled while in my arms.

the only thing I can ever tell you with confidence is that you will not live for 100 years. Even if you go about proving this wrong you will soon die of old age.

also, for further proof of God's sense of humor all one ever need do is look long into the mirror. not while on LSD or listening to enigma.

post Cinco de Mayo

After the intense celebration where I could be found only at my home with a massive headache that lasted the day and has driven me to be reflective and down today. May have been the night time dreaming or the ghost walking down the corridor that reaches to pet the dead grey cat who groans loudly in the night.
Today, flowers and slaughtered farm raised cattle.
there ought to be a law against me
walking down the street
special made shoes to correct gait and cane to fend off pavement when it comes rushing at me at terminal velocity.
Piano lessons tonight and we have been or practiced in three weeks. Death is the distraction that occupies my state of usual or unusual being.


In twenty minutes I am going to get my tractor and prepare it to mow the lawn, sharpen blades and I always think of sling blade, connect the deck and watch the birds eat the seed meant to green my lawn. There is nothing better than the green lawn on which we do not walk barefoot in worry of the raccoon leavings which can transmit ringworm.


don't you love my baby?

quatro de mayo

excessively well medicated right now and should be falling over asleep or sleep blogging but certainly not awake.

correction to yesterdays post about flying - it was four planes in 48 hours - 47 to be more precise. knocks the hell out of a person when it is not an accustomed commute.

eyes open and hearing the doors swing, footsteps and almost out of cigarettes - they never think of the mentally aberrant when they tax the hell out of cigarettes, or they think were too crazy to make rational decisions in which case they price them out of reach.

there's a little girl in the hall and I never know what to make of her.

I've smoked one brand my entire smoking career and now find myself switching to a slightly more expensive and slightly more imported brand. Nicer packaging and easier to store cartons.

This is hardly a reason to continue smoking.

a razors blade. one of the hands on my watch fell off, tumbling around behind the crystal attempting the clockwork.

ah, I have a follower

Pleased to meet you here, what is a beautiful young lady like yourself doing hanging out in a place like this?

- hold on while I go slightly insane.

early morning and have yet to get enough sleep - still recovering from loss and jet lag - four planes in three days. Sounds like a lot when you put it that way - we were only going one way but had to have a layover, well, you follower know this - you were there - suffering the blight that is air travel. I was searched, as always, and put a pleasant expression on my face as I was being felt up by old men while thinking  - it must be the beard. But that wouldn't explain why I always get searched - even as a child going to Disney World before I was perceived as a terrorist in the eyes of a beard hating public and Will Ferrell. This is why I stopped carrying my Mala - too many questions and looks, since my imagination is good I can perceive always having one.

WHile we are on terrorism - I fear Osama's replacements zealousness more than I feared Osama.

Peace be upon all Muslims as I am sure they are getting more hell right now.

slept a full night last night - first time in a long time. Exhausted by emotion, exhausted by travel, exhausted by baring my soul, and dreaming.

First post, new blog.

will link it later to current blog -

just wanted the name.