domination of black
at night, by the fire,
the colors of the bushes
and of the fallen leaves,
repeating themselves,
turned in the room,
like the leaves themselves
turning in the wind.
yes: but the color of the heavy hemlocks
came striding.
and i remembered the cry of the peacocks.
the colors of their tails
were like the leaves themselves
turning in the wind,
in the twilight wind.
they swept over the room,
just as they flew from the boughs of the hemlocks
down to the ground.
i heard them cry -- the peacocks.
was it a cry against the twilight
or against the leaves themselves
turning in the wind,
turning as the flames
turned in the fire,
turning as the tails of the peacocks
turned in the loud fire,
loud as the hemlocks
full of the cry of the peacocks?
or was it a cry against the hemlocks?
out of the window,
i saw how the planets gathered
like the leaves themselves
turning in the wind.
i saw how the night came,
came striding like the color of the heavy hemlocks
i felt afraid.
and i remembered the cry of the peacocks.
-wallace stevens
when youre slinding into first. . .
when stoned one usually makes an equal mix of good and bad decisions. some, however, are decisions one would have made even while sober, and said decisions could have just as well been deemed poor. this was my lot yesterday. apparently it was national marijuana day yesterday i didnt know this at the time but luckily for me i was in fact quite high, so i can say that i observed in proper fashion. anyway, i got a bit famished, as you will. so i went to one of my favorite hidden little punjabi holes-in-the-wall for some samosas. now id put this places food up against any other like cuisine in the city which by the way is one of the great things about this town. its completely rife with little nooks of culinary bliss. at this particular place one can stuff their face with succulent treats for a mere $3.
so there i was, pleasantly high, noshing away with a small cadre of cabbies whose sweat only enhanced the pungent flavor of my meal and tea. now counterbalancing the myriad of flavors and rich spices in my meal was its effect on my gastrointestinal tract some three hours later. yes, it was debilitating terribly so but i can say that while seated for some 12 uncomfortable hours i managed to catch up on a great deal of reading. this is the risk you take, especially us whiteys with our soft living and weak stomachs. the cuisines of the world as much joy as they may bring to the mouth are a total crapshoot for the stomach. i for one will continue to roll those dice as long as i can.
motorhead
so there we were, and lance says, you know three beers equal dinner. well said old boy, well said. and by the way, WHEN did hard rock shows become such a draw for fantastically attractive ladies? my calculus right now tells me it must be hip to be metal. no seriously, for the first time im going to shows that used to be only populated by large, sweaty goons. now women are coming, and not what youd imagine. call me backwards and on the off chance patty irelands gestapo surf the web for inflammatory remarks, let me just say that for the first time im noticing that droves of women are now appearing at these shows. lots of them. and not the skanky ill blow you and your friends if you can get us backstage ladies, but, well, the opposite of that. not that skanky is bad, skanky can in fact be quite good, but its getting weird. me and all my ball-scratching buddies feel a little bit awkward now, like we cant yell show us your tits without getting a look or pissing off the thought police. its funny how pop-culture just plows through one genre of music or scene to another.
a chip off the old
dad has been out of the country for several weeks. today he gets back and says (in his uber-southern accent, which ive tried to shake): son, did i tell you about falling in the ditch full of briars?? it like tore me up!!! no dad, were you sober says i. helllllllllll naw, says he, and i asked my buddy how it happened, and he told me wed just killed a quart a vodka. i reckon thatll do it.
they truly broke the mold, they did. . .
the mint julep
giacamo? WTF MATE??? apparently some bastards in jersey bet the trifecta and won $1.2 million. ONE POINT TWO MILLION!!!! cheeeeerrrrriiiiist. my inside track kept saying sun king, ive got a good feeling on sun king! so i bet place and show, and what do we get? 15th. fucking donkey!!! thats the last time i ever let a drunk woman try to tell me how to handicap.
keep your pants on, and your money in your wallets kids.
at night, by the fire,
the colors of the bushes
and of the fallen leaves,
repeating themselves,
turned in the room,
like the leaves themselves
turning in the wind.
yes: but the color of the heavy hemlocks
came striding.
and i remembered the cry of the peacocks.
the colors of their tails
were like the leaves themselves
turning in the wind,
in the twilight wind.
they swept over the room,
just as they flew from the boughs of the hemlocks
down to the ground.
i heard them cry -- the peacocks.
was it a cry against the twilight
or against the leaves themselves
turning in the wind,
turning as the flames
turned in the fire,
turning as the tails of the peacocks
turned in the loud fire,
loud as the hemlocks
full of the cry of the peacocks?
or was it a cry against the hemlocks?
out of the window,
i saw how the planets gathered
like the leaves themselves
turning in the wind.
i saw how the night came,
came striding like the color of the heavy hemlocks
i felt afraid.
and i remembered the cry of the peacocks.
-wallace stevens
when youre slinding into first. . .
when stoned one usually makes an equal mix of good and bad decisions. some, however, are decisions one would have made even while sober, and said decisions could have just as well been deemed poor. this was my lot yesterday. apparently it was national marijuana day yesterday i didnt know this at the time but luckily for me i was in fact quite high, so i can say that i observed in proper fashion. anyway, i got a bit famished, as you will. so i went to one of my favorite hidden little punjabi holes-in-the-wall for some samosas. now id put this places food up against any other like cuisine in the city which by the way is one of the great things about this town. its completely rife with little nooks of culinary bliss. at this particular place one can stuff their face with succulent treats for a mere $3.
so there i was, pleasantly high, noshing away with a small cadre of cabbies whose sweat only enhanced the pungent flavor of my meal and tea. now counterbalancing the myriad of flavors and rich spices in my meal was its effect on my gastrointestinal tract some three hours later. yes, it was debilitating terribly so but i can say that while seated for some 12 uncomfortable hours i managed to catch up on a great deal of reading. this is the risk you take, especially us whiteys with our soft living and weak stomachs. the cuisines of the world as much joy as they may bring to the mouth are a total crapshoot for the stomach. i for one will continue to roll those dice as long as i can.
motorhead
so there we were, and lance says, you know three beers equal dinner. well said old boy, well said. and by the way, WHEN did hard rock shows become such a draw for fantastically attractive ladies? my calculus right now tells me it must be hip to be metal. no seriously, for the first time im going to shows that used to be only populated by large, sweaty goons. now women are coming, and not what youd imagine. call me backwards and on the off chance patty irelands gestapo surf the web for inflammatory remarks, let me just say that for the first time im noticing that droves of women are now appearing at these shows. lots of them. and not the skanky ill blow you and your friends if you can get us backstage ladies, but, well, the opposite of that. not that skanky is bad, skanky can in fact be quite good, but its getting weird. me and all my ball-scratching buddies feel a little bit awkward now, like we cant yell show us your tits without getting a look or pissing off the thought police. its funny how pop-culture just plows through one genre of music or scene to another.
a chip off the old
dad has been out of the country for several weeks. today he gets back and says (in his uber-southern accent, which ive tried to shake): son, did i tell you about falling in the ditch full of briars?? it like tore me up!!! no dad, were you sober says i. helllllllllll naw, says he, and i asked my buddy how it happened, and he told me wed just killed a quart a vodka. i reckon thatll do it.
they truly broke the mold, they did. . .
the mint julep
giacamo? WTF MATE??? apparently some bastards in jersey bet the trifecta and won $1.2 million. ONE POINT TWO MILLION!!!! cheeeeerrrrriiiiist. my inside track kept saying sun king, ive got a good feeling on sun king! so i bet place and show, and what do we get? 15th. fucking donkey!!! thats the last time i ever let a drunk woman try to tell me how to handicap.
keep your pants on, and your money in your wallets kids.
VIEW 13 of 13 COMMENTS
I understand:
...life is a constant endeavor devoted to "discovering" and utilizing positive chemicals flowing through our brains. Whether we obtain said chemicals is completely arbitrary.
...the past equates into the tangible "me;" leaving history and memories dire to existence.
What I don't understand:
...you'd hop upon that rocket and let the pages of your past reach the excruciating heat of the sun with no regret?
I'm not gonna lie...I just got off work...it's almost 3 a.m....I've had three whiskeys and a bacardi...I smell like burnt pizzas and lousy nachos. Therefore, this may come out as entirely homosexual,
but!
you're my hero for replying with poetry.
way to save the night, ambiguous scholar.
Yes, valuim, thats what I'm missing...