orgami's Diaryland
Diary
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big long blab
THE CRAMPS play on this Panasonic
cd portable player
A DATE WITH ELVIS is the cd
I bought this on a lark years ago
almost three now
I love the band I first saw their
video even longer ago It was
BIKINI GIRLS WITH MACHINE GUNS rocka billy punk its fun and I
like the twisted guitar riffs
and the lead vocalist reminds me
of the guy from B-52's
another band I like
I had their LP and that is years
and years ago Right now its 23:52 p.m. and there
is rain and lightening and thunder
the air coming through our open
windows up here is cool
I am wide awake not sure if its the music or the
weather but I am restless nonetheless
cannot find my FREDERICK CHOPIN
music Nice piano scores I love
the piano and of course my most
favourite piano peice is BEETHOVENS
MOONLIGHT SONATA because of course
it has the moon and is about the
moon in it So instead I listen to the cheery
Bee-Bop of the CRAMPS I run SPY-BOT on this machine and
de-fraged it and its running a little
bit better but this is WINDOWS 98
so this machine is ancient however
tis the only one I have so ancient
or not I have to use it I can keep in touch with people
I can write stuff and people can
relate and comment on it graffitti electronic cyber land way my soul pours forth through the
slender means and ways
its sweet gentle music
this weaving and floating
I could sleep forever
all I have to do is close
my eyes and let go ... Lori sleeping
I awake
per usual night
glued to this screen like
a nocturnal moth
spinning and beating my
ideals into shape
dancing
dancing
dancing verb beat the bus
is busy
with the hum
of human voice
and its machine growl
as we pull up steep
grades and long hills
brakes protest on
stoplights
and REQUESTED STOP
the bell that rings
OH driver please stop
grab the chrome bars
dont fall over
take a step down
to the dusted crack
of ashphalt
"thank you"
"your welcome" where is my goddamn muse
I put this someplace
in this emporium of
loose ends and bitter beliefs
kick the stuffed creature
so potent and fearsome
stamp on the creaking floor
turn up the radio
and turn off some lamps
rest here in cacophony
the din of expressions
read my palm by the light
of the painting
riveted red fire
glints in her teeth
her eyes full of smoke
and sensual smoulder
her hand rests upon my
thigh comforting and heavy
somewhere above a star tumbles
from the sky and a wish is made a train moans low on a grade
crossing its animal heartbeat
revving up across the swamp
and hollow sparks entwine and twist upwards
to the night lair of things
far and near
Our lone moon a curled crescent
broken blossom
water lily glittering stars and
long dark stares
take a trip and tumble
down into the depths take my breath away in
a heartbeat
a kiss to that cool nape
of your neck
secret sonnets tested
there
my fingers dipped in ink
shall write ceremonies
of strange wisdoms ... what more is there to know
but there is always more
minutes full of more
hours full
nights long made for twin hours
slender slim seconds
drooping days
dripping quarter oh yah here on the headphones is
a lively number "gonna take a week off, gonna go
to Hell.." I haven't had a drink in a month
but I feel the want
the reasons to slip away
but not here at this new place
too much to lose
to much of a good thing going here
a nice life to start again
Not the shit life I had
all that fucking around with alcohol
waking up in puke and cockroachs in
my coffee stinking like a haggard
bum and looking like one
Not caring about anything except
where the next goddamn bottle came
from Oh alcohol where hast thou gone
Bring thee forth to me
let me guzzle your sweet dream fire
burn my brain and curl up my soul in
licking hot breaths blacken me at
the edges and take the bray from my
asses howl
ease from me all my self esteem
self worth
self
I ... and
somewhere
is another drink
another bought with the bottle
where I may lose my way back from nowhere
forever........
11:51 p.m. - 2006-09-05
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