I'm working on trying to maintain
a sense of tranquility
my diary
is filled with spontaneous arguments
and I am attempting to understand
just what makes it real
and at the beginning, it is mostly a reflection
on being an artist
but then later
it is something else
entirely
people come, people go
some grow young, some grow cold
Tom Petty
was a visionary

in a world where you share everything
is everything possible
or is none possible?
depends on who you ask
but people have their ways of making the decisions
whatever the outcome may be
they like to make their little posts
in a neat little package
posted for the world to take a look at
yeah, thats nice that
trick
and then they expect the masses to follow along
its a fun game and I like it
wherever your soundtrack may be headed
I encourage it
but I
seem to have heard one piece of advice
that was heard
in a dormatory room
I read it in a philosophy book
to find your citadel
away from everyone
where you can be your own ruler
and I think that I have that engrained
in my system

and boy
does it allow me
to see things
differently
from a calm place
things are real nice
from the place of jack johnson strums
on a beach somewhere
you remove yourself from it
and it goes like that
for a little while
and I’ll take it on, and I’ll continue like
that

I’m filled with pause with pleasure with sigh, sigh sigh, knowing

maybe nothing that will ever be cared about
maybe one little sliver somewhere that was created accidentally

misspelled misspellings

and the man said
in the deepest of voices
in the deepest of dismay
he asked me to keep looking for something
you haven’t found it quite yet, kid
but keep looking
its one hell of a
ride

I once thought that people were easy to please, I had intact a naivety, but now I see that people are even easier to please, and that my naivety is in fact a wisdom, and that wisdom is weightless, it dismisses everything and accepts love into its heart, and cradles it there, like a bear with its cub, yes, its a sweet thing

I once thought that I wasn’t capable of much anything, and I still think that sometimes, but then I remind myself that there are doers and don’ts, and the doers do while the don’ts talk about what the doers are doin, and thats just a cycle of productivity, and somewhere in the center is an easy rider, a guy on his motorcycle, with his hair blowing in the wind

hear a faint whisper
women walk by
and I feel
like a quiet man with
subtle mannerisms
even though I am truly
loud
I am a beast
with a roar, truly
I can let it out, fierce
And then it takes a hundred more years
to write something down worthwhile
and I am willing to wait, that, long

how much do I have to know
before I can write something down?

how much to I have to learn?
what does the university have to teach me?

what advice to I need to get from my uncle??
what article do I need to READ ON VICE
on what PRICE does the timing have to come through

and what method do I have to use
to make the right arrangement of flowers
in the vase??? what method do I need?

I swing myself around and dig through the ashes and look for alternative measures for more counting card brigades of clans and crusaders, teach me your blessings, and I will sit at the table and eye like a hawk, with shades on, the CLUE

give me yours and I’ll walk in a green

SUIT

wherever or whatever or for whatever reason, philosophize, come orignial, or not, ironically a mimic!  hear the cry of a raving lunatic? and he speaks some truth and his banter is a symbol of a species that needs to be watered?  where is the sense?  and the hatred, no not the hatred, the excess, the spoils, the soot, flows through the cracks in the clay ***

how many lessons?  
how many times?

how many guesses? play the power ball how  many

TICKETS
count them all, and **** around with advice

listen to Cuban, the man who flips businesses like burgers
listen to Cobain, who will sing his refrain take a drag of his cigarette and say something is great, in his particular way
listen to Christians, sing a long and live forever and that is Great, in their own particular way

questions
QUESTIONS
QUESTIONS
driving me mad, driving me to the absolute brink of insanity

and boy
is it

Delicious

little about last nights performance
I sang a song for the bartender
I said something like
tip your bartender
or something like that
it was cheesy
but I think the old guy appreciated it
he charged me less for my beers
when I left


But I did a few numbers
mingled with other artists
everyone was very respectful
and one artist said to me
"no disrespect or anything, but I wasn't paying attention during your set"
and he was genuine about it, he had long hair, kind of the last breed of new york beatnik
he was almost saying naumas day to me or something like that
and I responded,
"no its good for me, It makes me better when people aren't playing attention because it challenges me"

the look in his eyes was sincere, again
we didn't say anything to each other after that

Ben and I have plans
to put together a show
and we're gonna do a poetry set

I felt so guilty
for leaving early
the truth is I didn't feel like sitting through their set
I was tired and I had to wake up early for therapy
so I got up and started walking out
the bartender only charged me six bucks for two Guinness and a shot of whiskey
and I went back and grabbed my coat
and I was out of there
and took a cab home

I got invited to do a poetry reading
and I'm really excited about it
we're going to try to film the whole thing
I'm in my prime, I'm ready to take on the world
as I sit
in my apartment
and await the next chapter