Poetry Thursday #5

Written 09/02/04

how to scream

do you remember
how to scream
and what
it means
when the blood
fills your eyes
and your passions
begin to rise
do you remember
loss and regret
have you given
into life yet
do you mourn
for days long dead
or do you cry out
for only the days ahead
do you remember
how to scream
and what
what it really means


Free Comic Book Day!!

Since 2002, the first Saturday of May has been a glorious day. That day is known as Free Comic Book Day. In an effort to bring new comic book readers into independent comic stores, once a year publishers and comic shops team up to hand out a bunch of free comics. A lot of shops have creators there for signings, as well as people dressed up as comic characters. It’s really a fun event, and as a longtime comic book fan and collector, I fully endorse it. We went as a family last year, and had a lot of fun. My boys were excited to get the Cars/Incredibles comic and the DC Kids Super Sampler. There’s also plenty for the older readers as well, and most shops have big sales to coincide with the event. So pack up the family this Saturday and head to your local comic shop. You can head to the official site right here, where they also have a participating comic shop locator. If you love comics, used to collect them, or are just interested in finding out more, this is a great way to jump in.

Quote of the Day #15

As you probably noticed, I kind of abandoned the quote of the day. I kept finding cool quotes that I could put up here, I just never got around to doing it. But I’m going to bring it back. As you may also have noticed, it wasn’t even every day when I was doing it. So basically I’m going to keep it up, but probably not on a daily basis.

Yesterday I came across a very cool quote from George Orwell:

“We sleep safely in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would harm us.”

My dad was in the Air Force. His dad was in the Navy. My mom’s dad was in the Marine Corps. I have friends who have served in the current wars. And all I can say is I’m thankful for these and many other rough men and women.

Short Story Exercise Week #6

When I first looked at this painting by Richard Diebenkorn, I thought it was a winter scene. Then I saw it was titled View of Oakland, and I noticed the palm tree and such, and realized I was probably wrong. But I already had it in my mind that it was winter, so I stuck with that theme. 922 words.

Her name isn’t important. She could be any girl. And I could be any boy, anywhere in America. Heck, anywhere in the world. I’m sure this sort of stuff happens everywhere. But the fact is my heart is broken. The last two years fall like the snow I’m watching as I stare across these dirty rooftops. What once was our flame is now ashes and dust. Everything goes away in the end. A bit melodramatic, I guess. But I’m a songwriter, so I reserve the right to be.

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Poetry Thursday #4

I’ve been pretty horrible about posting this week.  But I couldn’t let Poetry Thursday go by without a post. So here goes. Written 03/04/03

cold & sore

taste the salt from
broken lips I
just can’t hold
onto this I’ve
raced through days
afraid to blink I
felt the weight
upon me sink
I felt my eyes
begin to fade
I cursed the sound
my breathing made
hollow gasps
ragged wheezing
I can’t escape
this fear I’m feeling
I swear I’m running
the right track
but I can’t go on
I can’t
go back

Images from my short film

I’ve been working on an animated short film on and off for the past few years. It’s finally getting close to being done, which I’m very excited about. My wife is as well, since it’s occupied a lot of my free time. I owe her big time. But I thought I’d show some near-finished stills from it. Take a look and let me know what you think.  I’m sure I’ll get the whole film up here when it’s done, hopefully in the not-too-distant future. (Click on each to see it bigger)

Short Story Exercise Week #5

Another late in the day entry. I’ve been reading Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman, and I really enjoy the style he wrote it in. I decided I’d try something similar for this story. I had so much fun it turned out longer than I had planned. Hopefully it’s fun to read as well. The painting is by Marsden Hartley, and is called Yliaster (Paracelsus). And I have no idea what that means. 1445 words.

Tom spat dryly. It didn’t do any good. Sand was everywhere. In his mouth, his eyes, his ears. The hot wind had been blowing the stuff around since the first step of this trek. They had brought more than enough water to reach their destination and return. In fact, Janie had planned things perfectly, as always. That was her style.

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Poetry Thursday #3

More emo. Inspired a little bit by Ani DiFranco. Written 03/04/03

Less Pale

the rain paints the side
walk a deeper
shade of grey
I scan the sky
and try to smile
as I lean against
this building bare
blacktop streams
from beneath
my leaden feet
towards forgotten miles,
whispered goodbyes,
and burning eyes
I stretch my chest
expose my bones,
my dripping heart
I pray the rain
will stain it dark
erase these scars
and leave my soul
less pale

Quote of the Day #13

ItThink I’ll stick with the literature theme this week. This one’s kind of long, in fact it’s the entire poem, so I’ll shut up and let the brilliant Rainer Maria Rilke do the talking.

Falling Stars

Do you remember still the falling stars
that like swift horses through the heavens raced
and suddenly leaped across the hurdles
of our wishes–do you recall? And we
did make so many! For there were countless numbers
of stars: each time we looked above we were
astounded by the swiftness of their daring play,
while in our hearts we felt safe and secure
watching these brilliant bodies disintegrate,
knowing somehow we had survived their fall.

Quote of the Day #12

How about a quote from a book for a change? Jack Kerouac is one of my favorite authors, and On the Road one of my favorite books of all time. Hence, this is one of my favorite quotes. I’ve mellowed out a bit now, but there was definitely a time in my life when this described me perfectly.

“I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”

Short Story Exercise Week #4

I decided to just post the picture at the end of the week. Keeps things less cluttered that way. This week’s painting is titled Mother, and is by the great Thomas Eakins. I was looking through some of his stuff, and I love it. Plus he’s from Philadelphia, which is cool. I’ve never really done a story like this before, so I’m interested in how people think it turned out and whether or not I hit the mark I was going for. 911 words.

Mother sat as she always did, staring out through the window. She never seemed to move, rarely made a sound. Her name was Vivian, but everyone called her Mother. I don’t think any of the other orderlies even knew if she did, in fact, have any children. But that’s what what she was known as, ever since the doll was found. It was discovered a few weeks before I started here, and was part of the reason why I did. Mother’s old nurse, Jen, had quit the day the doll was found, and I was hired as her replacement. Nobody really talked about the doll, or Jen for that matter. What little information I had was gleaned from overheard conversations and terse answers to my questions. I was the new girl, and still an outsider. So I went about my work, trying not to let the whispers and glances bother me.

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Quote of the Day #11

AFI is a band that has evolved drastically over the years. Whether or not you like the changes in sound they’ve gone through, they’ve consistently written great music accompanied by thoughtful lyrics. Can you really ask for more from a band?

Will you wish upon?
Will you walk upon me?
I don’t want to die tonight.
Will you believe in me tonight?

Poetry Thursday #2

So much for me not posting any emo ones. Oh well. Written 10/30/02.

Song of forever

I’ll walk outside
back through the cold
I’ll hear the animals
shift in their sleep
and I’ll glance at the sky
see the stars through dead arms
of aging elm trees
and I’ll think of a song
of forever ago
I’ll listen to the water
spill from the trough
and I’ll close my eyes
and wish for a moment
of beauty and warmth
before I open them
once again
to the bitter fall air
and the pale moonlit grass
and the shadows
of another
night spent alone

Quote of the Day #10

I don’t know if people are familiar with the term rockabilly, or what type of music it is. Think of early Johnny Cash and Elvis Presley, and you’ve got a good idea of what it is. The word comes from a combination of rock and hillbilly (aka country) music, as does the sound. An offshoot of rockabilly is a genre called psychobilly. Psychobilly takes the basics of rockabilly and infuses them with punk sensibilities, often throwing in old horror and sci-fi movie references. Probably the biggest pyschobilly band these days is a group called Tiger Army, and their stuff is incredible. This is one of my favorite songs of theirs. Tiger Army Never Die!!

The seasons of my life, I watched them pass
The blossoms of spring fall, leaving only winter’s naked branch
I remember you and me, In the Orchard

As the days of youth, slip farther from my grasp
Still it haunts me, like a song i cant forget
And now frost covers the ground, In the Orchard