running blind while coming for you

I'm running blind and my daughter
sees God
As a comedian who is not threatened
by a good joke.
And I am laughing at my daughter's
ability to make God blush,
While consumed by wolves who scream
for my soul's execution;
Yet, these two hands
are breaking jaws and gathering dreams,
In the north country, away from where the
wind blows, on my love, walking her dog,
On a rocky beach, less than three skips away
from the end of life's rainbow.
But she is part of another novella,
cut short from me without a period or semi-colon
So I continue to hope in this dark cell
for those faded, nuclear explosions, called stars.
I pray they will send down some angels strapped
to a pair of roaming buffalos,
For I am still young and wild
whistling a melody for the dream catcher.
And it's funny how clearly God's voice
echoes when I am most wasted and wounded
Humbled, homeless filling up my prison cell
with truth and defecation.
And you should know this, snake charmer,
it's the way we coil in heat, recoil in the chill
Of glassy, slippery eyes.
You see, it was all brought back to me
With my daughter's prayer,
thanking God for her bad dreams.
And that points to an exclamation, sleepy seducer.
We can do something
No God or gods could ever do;
good or bad.
We can dream, my love,
we can move in our dreams.
So, I wanted you to know that,
because I'm coming for you.

World without children

a world without children?
this could never be!
for a world without children,
would mean a world without me.

Seeing
(for up)

For a day,
I want you to borrow my eyes
and see how well they see,
and then you would see
how beautiful they see
you.

"And [Jesus] said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." -- Matt 18:3-5

My daughter came to me and said, "Daddy, we forgot to pray this morning." I said, "You're right, Saskia. Let's pray right now." So, I stopped what I was doing and we prayed. I said, "Thank you God for my eyes that see, and my arms that work." And then Saskia jumped in and said, "Thank you God for making me have BAD dreams, and for giving me pee pee in my poopie butt."

If what Jesus said is true, I have a golden seat in heaven next to my daughter.

Amen.

why are there boogers in front of every urinal across america? what is it that makes a man (or some bold woman) pick their nose when peeing?

what is it about the release of sex that is so powerful, powerful enough to make people kill and become addicted?

why is falling funny to people? when someone trips or stumbles people laugh. what is it about our disaster that is a source of celebration for some?

why are men and women so different? genetics? socialization? why, in broad strokes, are gay men more colorful, as a subculture, than lesbians?

why is there embarassment in what our bodily functions do?

why war? why fear?

why do we remain angry with those whom we claim to love? why isn't death always present in our consciousness?

why do i lack the courage to fail? why do i attempt tasks that i know i will be successful in doing?

why does crying make me feel so bad? why does crying make me feel so good?

why are we afraid or drawn to falling? why do we seek death while running away from it?

why do we fall in love? are we hard-wired for this tragedy?

why is death so difficult to see as a part of life?

why did my mother teach me how to reach out to people, only to scold me when my giving was beyond her expectations?

why does my three year old daughter understand more about living than i can ever relearn?

why are goodbyes so hard?

why does God speak through silence? why are we as people so passionate about God's existence, extinction, or non-existence?

why not?

Dearly Departed

And so many thoughts run through my mind. They seriously do. Quickly. Like planes stuck on runways. And there were so many other things to be said and were held back in my head or just in someone else's song. Now that I've had time to think, I know I can jot a few things your way, my way. We did it! Here and now.

"And we both feel lost, but I remember what Susan said,
'Our love is bound in the things we've given up,
More than in the things that we have kept.'
And ain't it funny what people say,
And ain't it funny what people write,
And ain't it funny how it hits you so hard
In the middle of the night.
And if your home is just another place where you're a stranger
And far away is just somewhere you've never been,
I hope you remember,
I was your friend.
I hope you have the strength to just remember
I'm still your friend."-- Rich Mullins, What Susan Said

And then it's been cool here in Jersey for the past few days. In August!!! Are we heading for fall already. That's my favorite, you know. I know you know.

"each time you'd pull down the driveway
i wasn't sure when i would see you again
yours was a twisted blind sided highway
no matter which road you took then
oh you set up your place in my thoughts
moved in and made my thinking crowded
now we're out in the back with the barking dogs
my heart the red sun
your heart the moon clouded
i could go crazy on a night like tonight
when summer's beginning to give up her fight
and every thought's a possibility
and the voices are heard but nothing is seen
why do you spend this time with me
maybe an equal mystery" -- Indigo Girls, Mystery


And what if as time moves, we move to drums and violins and laughter and italian wine and cars driven from all sides. I'm still the ride, huh?


" Now here we are
We're licking skin to wipe us clean
Strike a match, pour gasoline
Ditch the scene and watch this city burn
Asleep, my life will be a pillow steering wheel turn

I'll be reaching for the stars with you (honey)
Who cares if no one else believes
So I, set fire to everyone around
But I told you
I told you
We'd do it

So ha ha ha ha
ha ha ha ha
Yeah we won

We Drive
To leave the past and clear the mind
to watch the sunset set its time
I swear you'll find
I'm your ride home" -- Blue October, She's My Ride Home


But don't be fooled, I'm so prepared this time. So, (shhh), I keep secrets, and they never can tell by my smile.

"When we meet again
Introduced as friends
Please don't let on that you knew me when
I was hungry and it was your world." -- Bob Dylan, Just Like a Woman

But that's all I wanted to say tonight. Sleep loose, and let dreams breathe through a naked wind.

with love.

Understanding

My friend was telling me why she became a dancer. She has a lot of pride in doing her job well. She used to be a teacher, but didn't find passion in that field. She didn't make enough people feel better. As a dancer, she loves making men, from all walks of life, feel better. And though it's temporary, it's real. They feel better. It's not for me -- frequenting strip clubs or dancing myself, but I understand my friend. I understand the need to make people feel better.

I met this woman in a bar the other night. She was 38, but looked no older than 23, maybe 25, if you pushed it. She was proud of her two children. She was married, and would freely talk about her husband. Yet, the stench of loneliness permeated her laughter. She clung to any attention that men would give her. And though she was very attractive, I wasn't in the mood to speak much that night. She bored with me quickly, (as perhaps I did with her), and she moved on to some other familiar face at the bar. I understand that loneliness. I know it too well.

My sister Joy was telling me about the controversy over that new film, Knocked Up. Appearantly, the liberal media (i.e., NY Times and the Politico) is offended that the movie doesn't mention the word 'abortion', but rather scurries around the word. In addition, they seem to be offended that the main character decides to keep the child and not have an abortion. Why is this CHOICE offensive? Is not the voice of the Pro-choice about choice, even if that choice means keeping the child? I mostly rant against conservatives, but I was speechless that liberals borrowed the tactics of their political enemies by turning fiction into friggin' reality! Knocked Up is a comedy, not a weapon of mass debate. Do you know why the movie skirts around using the word abortion? Because it's a reflection of our society! We skirt around using the word ABORTION! I understand little of this debate.

Last night I was telling this woman at the front desk of my hotel that I am an actor. She said, "I was going to be an actor once, but I decided to change my mind." I scoffed. It dawned on me. We artists don't choose our art; it is our art who chooses us. I can no more change my call to acting than I can change the essence of Michael Fowlin. I understood little of what she had to say.

afterthought

i prefer being a no thought over being an afterthought.
afterthoughts tend to remind you of your invisibility;
whereas a no thought just reminds you that humans,
unlike whales and elephants, tend to forget
once in a while. afterthoughts are like steven, who

was overweight, in my 4th grade class, and one of my
best friends. he was an afterthought. you couldn't miss him
in gym class, but he was always picked last. none of the
cool kids wanted him on their team. i always wondered
how he felt. you know. being invisible.
an afterthought. i bet it would have cheered him up

if someone had said, "oh, my god, steven, we didn't even
see you. we just forgot. were you hiding on us?" and then the
two captains got into a big fist fight because both of them wanted
steven on their team. i bet steven would have felt good
being a no thought. no thoughts are important, just temporarily
forgotten. and then there's always the famous no thought versus
afterthought birthdays. with no thought birthdays, the forgetter

can gasp, groan, gargle, or giggle about their stupidity
or hectic-tivity or flake-itude, and this momentary lapse
is readily forgiven by the forgotten. oh, but watch out, if you are
an afterthought on your birthday -- the 11:59 call, the five day late
card, the "ooh, i feel bad; i'll make it up to you" that never happens,
the queasy reminder that your hunch about your funeral is probably
accurate. this makes you want to be eight again when everyone
gave a damn about your birthday: the happy birthday over the

loudspeaker at school, the party, the new huffy bike that you
rode up and down your street, far past reason; the belief that you
are a forethought. yeah, i would much rather be a no thought,
because they're more fun or funny than afterthoughts. with no
thoughts you sleep peaceful, because you don't remember that you
forgot, but afterthoughts ruin sleep, whether you're on the receiving
or giving end. afterthoughts incur anger. you're almost back at the party then you remember that your girlfriend or wife asked you
not to forget the cheese fondue or that special bottle of pinot noir,

and you turn around, head back to the store, cursing that woman,
and cheese and wine and grapes and cows and that stupid party
with all her stupid friends and your controlling boss who kept you
late, because she was too lazy to do her own job, and you curse
the traffic light for turning red, and you shout to everyone and
no one, "i wish i just forgot!".
see? that's an afterthought. just pisses you off. if it were a no thought, you could feel sheepish when your girlfriend or wife gives
you that vicious glare. but you'll both laugh about it later, and she'll
forgive you, because you had a no thought. there is forgiveness

in the disappearance of thought, but no real forgiveness for afterthoughts. you just suck it up and move on. i guess i'm saying
all of this just to tell you, i prefer being a no thought for a day,
rather than some lonely afterthought that squelches sleep. yes, honey, i would rather be a no thought for a day, but just for a day.

World Perks

business men, suits and privilege,
leave me trapped in this time warp of imperceptibility
my skin, too dark to be seen in this bright light,
reflect glances of fear and questions; i am
extraneous to others, as are the positions of two numbers
being multiplied in an equation
some of these men think i am cipher;
but i am not the product of this multiplication
i am just a factor
and what i need them to note:
if i am zero, i have the power, with one touch,
to completely negate their value

Conversations I had with a Girl at a Bar

It was the music that had nothing more than an empty tune.
"I wanna be the best, but feel like the worst;
I wanna be the prettiest, but feel the plainest."
But that smile, lost within thought, had him wishing that
she would sing a verse or two.
"Living in the moment is so hard to do when I can't
stop freaking over what's next . . .
I don't know if I can do this baby."
I'm preparing for a storm on this sunny day --
she has the taste of love and disaster on dripping lips.
"You bring out the worst in me. My mind hops and skips,
my heart falls and remembers memories past and yet to come.
I can't wait till Friday . . . where we will be on this beach . . .
in May."

4:30am chants

(comforting myself)

i want to sing to you
but my voice is tired and strewn
like exploded tires on highway roads
it's 4:30am and I'm not breathing you in
your scent is all but faded on my pillow case
your body is not pressed against mine
and no touch or fantasy or liquor
can make me forget what i don't have at this moment

i want to write you a song
but my mind is paper chastised by rain
matted and useless until it can be dried
and you, my dear, are light and sun
when you kiss me i shiver
i am drunk and sober all at once
you make my rambling road find that easy silence
and with this thought, I hope to sleep

i hope to sleep

i hope to sleep
with you
waking next to me
in the morning light