Nov. 30th Part II

I also rearranged my Flickr photostream into sets that are easier to look at - plus I deleted some photos that were not up to my standards...

Nov. 30th

I'm getting excited about the new movie project that I am going to be doing with some friends of mine. The opportunity to engage in the planning, designing, and execution of a movie; even if it will only be around 20min long, and we are all as amateur as you can get. It's still something we all enjoy, and I really think that we can put out a good product.

In addition to that, I have met someone who has (not purposely) inspired me to actually consider writing and possibly submitting a book of poetry. The general outline of the book would include my writing (of course), original photography of my own, and some artwork by myself and others that I know are very talented.

The most difficult part for me will actually be the photography; I have started practicing taking photos of people up close, I ask them to pretend I'm not there, or I just ask them to look into the camera however they see fit. Extracting the real emotion from the photo(s) will be my job as a writer. Other than that, I would like the photos to be of Portland - the people, the seasons, maybe a few landmarks, but mainly the idea is to keep it anonymous.

The artwork will be intertwined throughout the book, but focused mainly on poems or photos that could really inspire some sort of emotional reaction. The whole goal of the book is to cause the reader to feel something.

Anyway, that's it for now...maybe I'll pull some poem outta my ass at some point today....

Nov. 29th

Ok so I had to get that last one outta my system...should be a grand old time at work (glad I have my day job)...Today is the Voicebox Karaoke Video contest voting - go to Voicebox Karaoke on Facebook to vote for our video!!! We need the affirmation lol
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Smile Through

Time entangled by fear
wrapped around the brain
like a old winter coat
pulling out the strings
one by one

Trapped in a gentle haze
Can't see through
now enveloped in napalm
fiery frustration
you add fuel to the blaze

Every molecule sparking, with
apprehension and delight
this could be the day
Leave it all behind
in the ashes

You failed again, sweet faith
Engorged on hope
Delivered only hate
Now you swim in the
Cess pool from which you came
Sweet faith!
Go to the Sun,
Purge yourself in the fire
Arrange the stars
In your own sordid image
Leave this blue jewel
And get out of our minds

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Doubt

What have they done to my city?

High above the plastic din
Above the copper misfortunes
Drunk on the screams from
Pale eyes
And blood-stained hope

What have they done to my home?

Precariously placed along the edge of pure reason
Where I felt my head touch the
Paper cotton clouds
My castle of clay, turned to red mud
And the hands from below pulled me under

What have they done to my heart?

Torn from the emerald valley, so fertile in desires
Once drawn from a river of gold
Now rendered into a kings goblet
Full of the blood of Christ, drink away
You know me now, my body your bread

What have they done to my love?

Drown me again in the abyss of your darkest lust
Lose me in the fog of war
Strike me, silver knife at once
Lodged bewteen the blades of my shoulders like a lock and key
Twist away my love! a turn at a time is all it takes
I am in the palm of your hand
my brittle soul
just take one last breath before you go

then squeeze
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Those Eyes

With a pitter-patter slinking along the radiant Spring garden the hunt begins

Crouched in the warm air, she is intertwined with flowers, some red, some blueish or violet ink strokes of divinity
now invisible to all but me

Watching as she digs in the dirt, roling along the edge of the herbs and into the cobblestone pathways
O! What true bliss this must be!

With tiny life, buzzing about her long ears, whiskers brushing up against my outstretched hand
she spots her prey alone in
the shadows

Malice no! But rather deeply held instincts slew the little beasty!
As we are playthings for the gods, for her the lion was tamed and spoils of war taken in the ebbing afternoon sun

All is well again, as the peace returns to the her world, fallen into place among the roses and wine
Curled up in the delicate arms of Sleep, dreaming of tomorrow, and another hunt in the little garden
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Nov. 26th

Time to clear out all the old habits that are holding me back. If I could clear the cache inside the ol dome, I would do just that. I also think I need to start getting back to a few more poems that are not so gloomy...I guess that's easier said than done, but I have been known to write a few funnies or even happier poems that don't involve pain and suffering haha...

I will try, but no guarantees!

Scarred

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-----Original Message-----
From: macmarshall32@gmail.com
Date: Fri, 26 Nov 2010 20:08:26
To: <macmarshall32.scarred@blogspot.com>
Reply-To: macmarshall32@gmail.com
Subject: Scarred

Dancer beautifully scarred
deep red, pink ribbons
away from prying eyes
not challenged by hatred
obviously

Graceful in sadness legs long
not in tooth, but with life
Weird just like my energy
Strong like my mind
Weak like my heart

Unusual in taste
Not sweet
But with myriad of youth
I love her scars
Patiently placed
Right where it matters
not to be used
she hates loves herself

Beauty uninterrupted by faith
Admired from a torn bar stool

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Out of the Fog

Amiable friends, wistfully lusting from one    
   Nothing-doing! the place he knows well
     Neatly settled in the middle of the mind
        A sweet sight when they are close

        Black rain falls, at once split apart
      Like an atom when she is near
    Over the din of clashing words
  Verve is the new trend
Even in his wretched mind

Opening the old pink scars
   Like a war wound not yet healed
     Living at the end of the universe
       Is not for the faith of love
         Exit the dark meadow

         Time will heal the broken soul
       In the lightning the once struck true
     Reveals now only hollow dreams
  Terse lips and curvy hips
Apex of what they once had

Destroyed in a supernova of
the crystalline mind

Nov. 25th

Sitting alone here in the Cheerful Tortoise while writing meaningless drivel, I was pondering on just how I arrived at this point; what were the causes of this outcome? Certainly there are behaviors on my part that have planted me in this unenviable position of being in this place tonight, but is it really all as bad as it seems?

Because I have experienced failure, rejection, death, faith, and even fate, it has afforded me wisdom beyond my years. These experiences have bequeathed inspiration - but is that enough to ensure future happiness? After all, what good is life experience if you can't take your own sage advice.

But I truly believe, that despite all of the horrible things I have gone through in my life - I will be better for it. Somehow its still possible to provide a good example for my son, still possible to care, and become closer to the ones I consider important in my life, and it is still possible to share it all with a woman who will want to share with me all that she has learned...

I have been called at certain times either a "pollyanna", or a "snarky asshole"

I prefer to be a Pollyanna 8 days a week.

Worm Holes

Traversing on the edges
along the streams of consciousness
wishing to splinter apart
like brittle ancient bones
of the mind

These shards of memory
untethered
fallen into disarray
in the shadows of
lost love

caressed by the hand of fate
cold and bereft of pity
left behind to curse
the ones once cared for
blessed by what once was

alone in the jagged valley
wasting time in spades
at the tables of the unknown
drinks on the house
pouring from the heart

scanning the glass horizon
for a pathway out from the dark
it became clear
there is no way out
but for the way upwards
a loathe outcome indeed

Cherries

The morning sky gently painted

Alive with golden fire
by no human hand

Dawn's rosy fingers
piercing through the
snowy clouds, like a
subtle winter breeze

On the other side of the hill
the less fortunate live in the
gloomy murk of black-winged Night's last embrace

Only a few short paces from paradise
The yellow eyes of the dark
look desperately into the
starry eyes of hope
the smallest of differences
ensare the soul
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Nov. 22

Strange how some things in life are unavoidably tied to fate...even if you don't believe it...its what you do with certain opportunities, how will you react?
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Winter

In a lonely Winter nightmare
beneath the sickly yellow stars
and under the slowly dying trees
dripping wet, soft lies and broken dreams
her dark eyes meet mine,
no longer windows to her soul
now a mirror, tarnished with regret
I catch myself staring
wishing
With only my own stained reflection staring back, like a sad fool
waiting for her brown eyes
stabbing me over and over again
just a crimson mist
spread across the canvas sky
my heart a shell, now ripped apart a thousand ways
a thousand years
Wandering alone in the wilderness
numb to the silver winter cold
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Moonshine

The heavy noon air thick with gadflys
persuaded by sun to hold her down
Earth trembling beneath greedy eyes
beautiful in that sordid trance

Soldiers on the afternoon trek
trampling on the dreams of a green meadow
the treasure belonged to the children
now taken away by precious hatred

The men nod slowly, under their breath
greetings of solitude and melancholy fear
take another sip of moonshine
drench your mind with silver
drink deeply the agent of your misfortunes

away in the trees, beneath the fiery leaves of Autumn
the stars look down upon you with great pity
waiting to pick up the pieces, splintered, shattered
love

Nov. 20th

So I've decided it might be cool to add some photos every now and again to my writing, or writing to the photos as it were. Most of the time my inspiration comes from purely internal forces (emotions, mood, physical condition) but I think trying it this way may let me do other types of poetry.
On other issues, I hope that this room I looked at yesterday will work out. I've had some near misses, but this one seems like a done deal - and it is an awesome place with room for more artistic ventures (not homemade porno, although you never know!) like painting/drawing, and places to go around there that are fun to walk.

Angels

Angels
In plain sight,
A sight to behold
An angel with a thousand yard stare
Blessed with curdled hopes
Cursed as the morning sun
She raised her hollow eyes
aimed at the center of the moon
With sword and shield she tore into me
Like a buzzsaw through to the heart
Reminding me of lost prophets
Once saved long ago from pious fire
She is with me now I am her vassal
angel of mercy
angel of death
angel of impure souls
Holding me close to her tattered heart
never to awaken again

Wooden

Feeling sensing oblivious
Emotions gone through
The winter winds

Follow along now
Edges of the sidewalk
Flecked with silver hope

If only love was golden
Now its at the end
Fallen sordid love

A hungry glance
Met with early rejection
Pathetic humanity reigns

Someday the pinnacle reached
The drudge cleansed
Leaving the early dawn

Contours

Contours
Paid for
Delivered upon request

Caresses
Paid for
Given and greedy

Douchebags
Ready to
Pay in full

She made it through
The greenback rain
To the edge of reason

Only drawn back to Lincoln
And Washington

In spades

Prohibitionists weep
Jack Daniels on top

Out of element
Alone again

Nothing but Rome stands in our way...

Nov. 16th

So it's been a decent day - one day after anniversary...moving along has been pretty easy, although I'm ready for some good karma...I've paid the universe a high enough ransom, that my balance book ought to be all evened up...Tonight, I go to a Meetup thingy at the Jade Lounge for HH, then home early to write some more perhaps...

Oh, it's Nothing

Falling stars spinning like
Spiked wheels
Wrapped around like angry
Barbed wire icy tips tinged with blood crimson
Oceans bubbling over swooning tides cannot be assuaged
Earthen wares crumble and crack along the ancient waterfront
The great dark abyss calls gently beckoning raving
Screaming heart

Who me? Oh, its nothing!
How was your day...

Concrete

There is nothing sweeter than unleavened thoughts

Impure horribly honest - innocent as a newborn devil

While it is in dream state, it cannot be reached by any untamed eyes and ears

Underground the evils of the world are swallowed whole, diamonds, gold, other precious memories rendered untrue

But the tender roots of discord fail to hold her down, my sweet love

For she crashes through the concrete of the mind, superhuman fist
Showing everyone who we really are

Thrashing

Belitted fancy leaves tattered
Under my feet thrashing

On the way to a little paradise drawn in stone

Somewhere the maiden awakens!
Cold and dressed in the morning rain

Lips pursed tired eyes stumbing staggering, all in tune with him

Across town

Unholy winds and toothless grins accompany the sound of hell

But my paradise awaits us
Thrashing