THIS IS A TEST...
ok, folks, keep moving...
nothing for you here....

Well, here is the sort of new look...
there are a couple of little bugs that have been making me nuts all night...
such as why half the archive dates are split into running tabs...
I will figure that out one of these days.
Please scroll down and see the new links section.
Colors may change after a while, I have to see where that goes.
So, that was my Friday night into Saturday morning...
I hope you were having more fun than I was...
Thanks for stopping by.
More to come soon.
Now quit reading this crap and go outside and enjoy the nice weather...
later

first, a thousand hugs and kisses to the lovely Raven for linking me on her blog!
I shall be doing the same this weekend during the sad old goth... urban (urbane?) renewal project!
with html book in hand, I will attempt to make this sad old blog into something mildly interesting,
unless, of course, I fuck it up, of which there is always a good chance!

secondly,
nolo profundo tonight, kids... I got less than an hours sleep last night and since the muse were
treating me like we were on a bad blind date, I didn't even get to take advantage of my sorry state and
assault your senses with more drivel...
I intend on being in bed early tonight, perhaps some good sleep will help with my current
blog blockage...

so, off to the land of dreams I go...

peace

you know, i really hate this.
the muse are a bunch of heartless bitches.
when i'm not in the mood, they sucker punch
me in the gut and i spill away,
but now, when i really need them,
they're over there in the corner,
whispering and laughing at me
over their shoulders...
what the fuck.
maybe tomorrow.
maybe never.
perhaps i need to ply them with
the usual fermented spirits in the
wee hours before they let me have
reign over my words once more.
maybe i just need to get my
creative shit together...
it's raining now and i have a new
SoulWhirlingSomewhere cd i want to
listen to, so i bid you fair 'eve.

but wait! there's more...!!!

after delving deeper into my diaries, I guess I didn't like the rather stark
ending of the last story. Sometimes I surprise myself.
so, here it is...

6.
Disappearing act.

"I love you, Siobhan"
She rolled over onto her back,
supporting herself on her elbows.
"I'll turn the tv off, fuck the weather."
She swung her legs over the far
side of the bed and padded slowly
across the room and switched off the set.
As she disappeared in the dying glow,
the only clues of her presence were her
measured steps in the dark.


7.
January.

Winter is a private time.
Like the world outside hoarding it's secrets
in winter, they hid the total of their true love
from each other.
He, because he loved her so much, that
it would have consumed him to give it all
to her.
She, because, well, there was never anyone
who had wanted all of her love before, and she
held the all of it back, just a bit.
That was her fault, she knew. She had offered it
all once before and it was not a good thing.
This time was different, but she couldn't let it go,
completely.
She sat on the edge of the bed and felt
for his hand. Grasping it tightly she sat looking
out the bedroom window.
In the headlights of the passing cars, she saw it
was starting to snow, just lightly.
It was January.


8.
Love.

Every time they touched, it was like making
love.
Every time silent words passed between them,
it was like making love.
He loved to touch her.
She loved being touched by him.
In the dark he would trace her body with
his fingertips.
He knew every inch of her, like a
roadmap for the blind.
Journeys in the dark.


9.
Sex.

They rarely had sex.
They were awkward with each other that way.
It seemed like a broken counterpoint
to their love.
There were times when the physical need
took over and then it was wonderful.
But it never was the ultimate goal.
It was never like walking her dog.


10.
Again, January.

"See, it is snowing again," she said.
"Yes," he said, releasing her hand and
slipping down under the covers.
She joined him.
He rolled over behind her and wrapped
her in his arms.
She pulled closer until they felt as one.
"Snow again," he whispered to her in the dark.
She whispered back, "It's January..."


11.
Breakfast Special.

As he held her, he breathed in the scent of her
hair.
He loved the scent of her hair.
She worked as a waitress in a diner
a few blocks from their apartment,
and, despite showering as soon as she got home,
her hair always carried a slight reminder of
kitchen smells and cigarette smoke.


12.
Nylon lizard.

When she came home from work at night
it was usually late and she was so tired.
He would greet her with a hug and would
unzip the back of her uniform.
She would shrug her arms out of it and
let it fall to the floor like a worn out skin.


13.
The caffine/nicotine astronaut.

While she took her shower, he would
put on some coffee and sit at the kitchen
table waiting for her.
When the coffee was ready, he would
pour a cup for himself and sit, looking out
the kitchen window at the dying lights of
the city, drinking coffee and chainsmoking
cigarettes.
He would blow across the top of the cup
and take a noisy sip, while the cigarettes
would bounce between the ashtray and
his lips, like some Cape Canaveral
paper heartbeat.


14.
Pink Pearl.

And so it went.
He loved her.
He would always love her.
Even if this, for some horrible reason, ended,
he would always love her.
There was no eraser big enough to
ever remove her from his heart.


15.
"All this..."

he thought.
And it was still January.

by the way...
for you PC user's, please download and install the
Nosferatu font, available here, for full visual enjoyment of
this sortid effort...

be back with more later...

pray for peace.

we have taken in a house guest
while her mother is taking a
spring vacation in the UK.
i think she feels at home...

1
Looking at her in bad light…

He hated the way her scars looked
under the light from the television;
flat, gray, lifeless; less a part of her
than some alien growth that flanked
her spine and followed the fair, almost
nonexistent curve of her hips.
The scars didn’t bother him, they were,
in a way, a small and beautiful part of the
larger and more beautiful her. He just
didn’t like looking at her this way, lit by the
blue glow, her naked skin almost melding
into the white of the bed sheets as she lay
on her front, her chin cradled in her hands,
facing the set at the foot of the bed.
“Can I turn that damned thing off?” he asked
as he settled into a cross-legged sitting position
at the head of the bed.
She turned and looked back at him,
not annoyed, not smiling, not anything.
“I just want the weather, they keep hinting
at more snow overnight…”
“Sure,” he replied as she redirected her attention
to the silent images flickering across the room.
At least she watched with the sound turned off.
He studied the crook of her shoulders,
the flow of her back, her waist, her ass,
and her long and thin legs. He wanted to be
far enough away from her so he could see all of her
at once, but needed to be so close, all the time,
that he had to see her in small parts.
He was so very, very much in love with her.
She knew that. She didn’t take advantage of it,
like some might. Nor did she treat it with indifference.
She was happy that he was happy.
She loved him because he loved her.

“I love you, Siobhan,” he said out loud,
not realizing he was speaking.
She turned over onto her back,
resting with her hands behind her head and looked at him.
“You don’t have to tell me… I know you do.”
Embarrassed, he looked down and said,
“Sorry, just thinking out loud…”
“Nothing to be sorry about, you need to say it
as often as you need to hear it…”
“I need to hear it all the time.”


2.
How it started…

They had been together just over a year.
They had met, quite by accident, outside a bar
in Philadelphia.
She was passing by, walking her dog,
as he was leaving the place.
He smiled at her as they passed.
She smiled back.
He stopped and almost didn’t look back.
When he did, she was.
At first, he thought she was barely out of her teens,
which physically, was almost the truth.
She had been hit by a car at the age of nine,
injured seriously and almost died. By seventeen,
she had endured a half dozen operations
to straighten and strengthen her spine,
as well as bone grafts to rebuild her hips.
The physical trauma of the accident and the
medical intrusions had slowed down her
physical development until it basically stopped
where she was between that stage of child and woman.
All the pain, however, aged her beyond her years,
and it only showed if you could get close enough to see,
in her eyes. At twenty-six she had the tired eyes of
someone that had seen enough, but was afraid not to look
at more.
They talked, exchanged phone numbers and that was that.
Isn’t it funny that, sometimes you fall so far, and land so soft?
And so it began.





3.

How it should have been…

Foolishness.
Fire.
Cold breezes.
Warm breathing on the back of her neck.
The smell of snow.
A knowing glance over a table.
Dusty kitchen curtains.
The sound of ice being cracked.
Darkness.
Promises.
No “goodbyes”.





4.

How it really was…














5.

Epitaph…

There is no end.
He just hated the way her scars looked
under the light from the television.

“I love you, Siobhan.”

this might be the last post for a while,
pending recovery time and the ability to
negotiate stairs..

so it looks like there is going to be a war.
I hope not.
I really think it's not going to be confined to the Gulf,
I think we are in for a rough ride on the home front as well.
I can't even imagine what horrors await us.
We are heading for a strange, new world.

Take care of yourselves.

I wish you Peace.

yes, there is a mrs. sad old goth...
she is a well of patience, beautiful and
a natural mother...
she is the binding that holds my
fractured soul from flying away in pieces.
she is something else...

and, here is something to listen to on
the Vernal Equinox...

here is something to listen to
while reading my depressing poetry
and stories...

I repeat myself when under stress...
I repeat myself when under stress...
I repeat myself when under stress...

don't know why that posted twice,
maybe it was so profound it just had to...

I am FREAKING OUT about surgery on
Monday...
sounds like the perfect time to post more
depressing shit from my old diaries...
so...
you've been warned.

later.

wuzza...
snort, fizzle, goop...
umma gumma...
oxo boxo...
ummmm....

wuzza...
snort, fizzle, goop...
umma gumma...
oxo boxo...
ummmm....

I don't know about you,
but I'm really longing for
summer...
Check out this picture I
took at the Delaware Watergap
with some Photoshop effects
applied.
(scroll down to see it)

I'm getting psyched for next Monday.
I go under the knife.
I am not looking forward to it.
I am aprehensive, at best.
I hope I get over it before then.

It is making me feel less than witty.
It is fracturing my thoughts.
It is making me write in very short
sentences.

I'm hoping that I can use the time at
home to level out a bit.
If the weather is nice, I intend to
to sit outside in the sun.
If the weather is not nice, I intend
to sit in the dark.
Whatever it is, I intend to work hard
at doing nothing but relaxing.

If the usual stir craziness attacks,
I will force myself back to work, pending
being able to drive the distance.
This house gets very small when
you live here all the time.
I've seen all the rooms.

I have to go fix a mangled phone
wire upstairs now.
Technology.
I could live without most of it.
Lights are nice, so I don't
step on the cat, but I really
don't need a phone or tv.
Radio is ok.
Computer is very ok.

Have a nice night.
Dream sweet dreams.

and what do you belive in?

so, one of my photographs made the big time!
Check out a photo I took in 1976 of David Bromberg at the Philadelphia Folk Festival on the
Official David Bromberg Band web page!
(It's the last photo listed).
later

so... Friday night I went into Philly with my friend Bob to see King Crimson. It was worth the agony and discomfort.
Crimson, as usual, continues to astound me... I don't know what else to say. They are beyond describing, please
check out some of their music for yourself.

The weather the past few days has been wonderful. The snow is melting and surprises abound...
peace

well, what a fun day...
had the opportunity to sleep late, woke up at 4:30, anyway.
it was raining.
drove to the surgeon's office and endured an hour and a half of being poked, kneaded, squeezed and otherwise abused.
I am told that I have about a 2" rip in my right richtal muscle, through which my innards are trying to escape, which is what
has been causing the constant pain and nausea.
Left the doctor's office with paperwork in hand to get pre-surgical tests done.
it was no longer raining, pellets of ice were falling from the sky...
cleaned off the car and started to drive to work. the road was a sheet of ice, which is probably why a car in the opposing lane was spinning around in circles, heading right for the truck in front of me. he took the cowards way out, like I did and headed for the shoulder without breaking... he ended up half in the woods, I ended up in some guy's front yard... meanwhile the spinning car backed into the trees about a quarter mile behind us, while the car that was behind him, a woman in a jeep, spun around and ended up planting the front end of her vehicle into a very large tree, resulting in a caved in front end, air bag deployment and lots of broken glass. The guy from the truck and I ran over to see if she was ok, which she was, just shaken up. He called the police on his cell phone while I waved traffic by, someone else was tending to the other guy.
The cops showed up in about ten minutes. By now I was coated with ice. Gave the cops the 411 on the accident, spun the car out the poor guy's front yard and turned around and drove home. I didn't think it was prudent to forge on in those conditions. It took me a half hour to go about six miles to my house.
Anyway, I will be heading to the hospital early on the morning of St. Patrick's Day... there goes the boiled cabbage and Guiness...
to get slit open, have my vicera pushed back in place, the rip stitched up and a piece of nylon mesh attached, just to make sure it stays put...
if all goes well, I can go home that night. If not, I will need to stay overnight and go home the next day.
Looks like I'll be laid up about a week, which is all I will be able to stand this time of year. I wish it was summer, I could work on my tan... at least I will have another good old fashioned scar, complete with stitch marks to show off. I'll have to make up some sort of sword fighting story to go with it...
Maybe I can put the down time to good use and upgrade this sorry excuse for a blog to something that's at least visually interesting...
so... that's about it for tonight. real exciting, huh?
look for some new photo pages soon... now there's another reason to live...

check back often for anxiety updates as surgery gets closer...

and, be sure to read the details of my upcoming colonoscopy... I promise it will be a probing, penetrating, in-depth report... uhh, never mind, forget it... you'll have to use your imagination for that one, sorry...

be well, be careful, spread some peace around...

so, here's the deal...
I have a nasty hernia that needs to be fixed asap...
wheeeee! pain killers!!!
yippeeee! potential day or two off from work!!!
yahoooo! possible malpractice suit and large settlement if they fuck it up!!!!

downside...
I have to endure a colonoscopy to make sure there is no damage to my intestines in that particular area...
grrrrrrrrr.....
NO weightlifting until it is fixed and I am totally mended... so, I will have to play catch up so I can be buff for summer... right...
Everyone has to be extra nice to me until I am fixed so I don't suffer any emotional damage heaped upon the already
unbearable stress... ok, I gave it a shot... give me a fucking break already...

Doctor: "after it's fixed and we're sure there are no complications, you can go back to a normal active life..."
Me: "cool... does that mean I can have unlimited rough sex...???"
Doctor: "uh.. sure..."
Me: "great! can you hook me up with someone???"
Doctor: "get out..."

oh yeah, he said I should eat, even though there's the chance I will hurl it up later... a little food is better than none, so I'm going to go have some nice home made rice with soy beans and oriental veggies...
that ought to feel great on the way back up...
later.
peace.

well...
while riffling through an old box of pictures, I came across this handsome rake...
keep your opinions to yourself, please.
later

shit.
guess what?
chapters six and seven of the thrilling tome, Treasure of the Sierra Madre, East have been edited and are ready to be cast upon the unsuspecting public, but... they are on my other computer, which crapped out this weekend!
Oh, the humanity...
so, yer gonna have to wait until I can figure out what the heck is wrong with it so I can copy them off.

Latest health update...
I only threw up twice in the past four days! Of course, I haven't eaten much, either.
I'm off to the doctor tomorrow to find out:
1. why I can't keep solid food in my stomach.
2. what this strange, painful lump in my abdomen is all about.
3. if this is something that can be resolved, or if I need to finish this damn story in a hurry....
stay tuned, updates as they occur.