Sorry to rant at ya, just thought you might want to know.
Two years ago today, I started this blog, and it’s been two amazing years. 3000+ followers later, it is good to know that someone out there still reads and enjoys poetry. Lately I’ve been rekindling my love for poetry and blogging and, honestly, it’s been difficult. Finding a balance between work and life and poetry isn’t as easy as it seems but every like, every sincere comment and every view I get reminds me why it’s important. Whether it’s brilliance or bullshit, every word you say could be the one that someone needed to hear. I think where I would be without the words of my fellow bloggers, without Kerouac, without Bukowski, without Vonnegut, without local poets, without music, without my family and friends and random strangers and without everything that has ever been said to me and it amazes me. Every word I say on this page came from somewhere else, so thank you all for keeping the words coming.
i just wanted to take a second to say
that i haven’t been posting online for
a few months, really.
i was spending all my free time on the computer
and it was eating away at me
i think i’m back.
i know from time to time
i get on here
i post a new piece
and then i disappear again.
i’m gonna try to not do that again.
i get a lot out of posting.
i can’t promise it’ll be poetry.
i can’t promise it will be good
but i will do the best i can
to keep it coming.
whatever it is.
it could be anything really
a commentary on post-capitalism
and the cyclical nature of society.
it might be a just-waxed red hot rod.
it might be a video of me performing
beethoven’s fifth symphony
impromptu on an out-of-tune harmonica
while under the influence
of twelve and a half pounds
of pure mexican black tar heroine.
i guess mostly
i’m just saying sorry for the poor communication
but i’m back.
in some weird way where i’m still afraid to commit
but i’ve found that running away from the blog
isn’t gonna fix the problems i had with it
so i’m ready for battle
got my warpaint on
and a whiskey bottle full
of adrenaline and testosterone
so bring it on, bitches.
COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2014
When I was in high school, I was a skinny, skinny kid. You could see my ribs. I had chicken legs, and I could eat anything I wanted whenever I wanted, then puberty hit me like the prodigal piano falling from the sky. I gained a lot of weight. When I was 18, I was working at the movie theater, living on a diet of buttered popcorn and raspberry Italian sodas. I had never learned how to regulate what I ate. It was irrelevant to me. I kind of had a hard time in my early twenties and just kind of lived carelessly, day-to-day, and it reflected in my weight.
Then I decided to try to change that. A couple years ago, I was proud of myself for losing thirty pounds through a summer of tennis, good eating habits and Power 90, but alas somewhere along the way I learned when you’re working out, you need protein; all I heard was I can eat hamburgers, and next thing I knew I was back to my old habits.
I wanted to be skinny again. I wanted to be my old self again. I missed how I looked. I knew myself as skinny Brice, and I thought I’ve myself as the artist formerly known as skinny Brice, but something happened to me a few months ago.
I looked in the mirror and I noticed that I am a wide person. I have very broad shoulders and hips and I basically have the body structure of a dictionary, and I realized, I don’t want to be skinny – I want to be strong.
SInce then, I’ve started focusing more on lifting weights, building muscle, and God, it’s a beautiful thing that fat turns into muscle. I can see myself getting stronger, and it makes me feel so much better. I can see what I’ve been through in my arms, in my chest, in my legs.
But this post isn’t a fitness post. This is not a health blog.
What I’ve realized is what this really means to me.
Before, all I wanted to do was get rid of every ounce of fat on my body, and it never worked. I’d always lose momentum along the way. What I know now is that I want to take what I’ve been, and become something I never thought I could be. I want to become stronger.
Tragedy is tragic. The news is dripping with it, it feels like. Bombings. Shootings. War. I feel like the aisle of our country is parting like evaporating ocean, and today it became the most overwhelming it’s become. I just wanted to separate from it. To remove this toxic fat off my body. Take a knife and tear it off from the fibers, but I can’t do that. We can’t do that.
You cannot remove something from who you are, as much as plastic surgery would have you believe you can. You have to do something with it. Race has come up lately. Trayvon Martin died, and it has changed things. There’s those hairs that raise on the back of your neck after a storm passes.
I was walking to the gym the day after the passing of the final verdict of the Trayvon Martin case, when I came upon a twentysomething black kid walking down the street, and I could tell there was something there. Indescribable almost. To be following him down the road the day after that case was plastered on every lit up screen was bizarre. That’s the only word I can say for it. It was almost surreal. I wanted to say something, but what would I say? How do you act like nothing has happened?
I didn’t say anything. I just walked by. I should have said something. I’m shy, yes, but I should have said something. Just said hey how’s it going. Anything, but there I was, trying to cut off that fat instead of turning it into muscle. Choosing complacency over courage. Ignoring what was there instead of grabbing it and ringing it out like a towel.
Today I was driving home from the store when the car in front of me broke down. I drove around this elderly woman, bewildered behind the wheel and thought to myself
I should help her.
I don’t know what I could do for her though.
She probably has a phone.
It couldn’t hurt to offer to help her.
But my light turned green and I drove off. Coward, I thought. I circled the block, and came back behind her. I got out of my car and went to help her, but she was gone. I wish my impulse would have been to help. I wish I knew what to do right away.
The fact of the matter is our gut isn’t always right. Trust me. This was a hard lesson for me to learn. Your instinct is often wrong. That’s why when you approach that good-looking person, you think of what to say afterwards. That’s why you think of the perfect witty retort as soon as your competitive coworker walks away. Your gut is not always right. In fact, it is often wrong.
That is why we have to build muscle. We have to train ourselves to do what is best for ourselves. Pain, pain, pain, pain, then pleasure. We have to reach further then we think we can. You have to stretch your muscle to the point of discomfort so it will grow, and after you do, you will feel so good. So good. The best high there is is the way you feel after you do the right thing, but there’s a hangover. You will be sore the next day. We question even the hero in ourselves.
Hero, admittedly, is the wrong word. This all is about being a good fucking human being. For yourself, if for no one else. Do it for the feeling that you did the right thing. You might even find that the smile on the person’s face who you talk to, who you invite into your life, who you help change the busted tired of – that smile may be what you remember, not how awesome you are. I bet you quickly forget about yourself as soon as you realize how they feel. When you recognize them as someone outside of you that you have affected for the better.
We have to build muscle. To rearrange the old cliche a bit, buy someone a fishing pole, not a fish dinner. Buy seeds, not tomatoes. Invest in your future happiness. Don’t throw makeup on the ugly parts of the world. Show them how they can be beautiful.
Don’t burn bridges. Create scenic routes. Get in your car. Drive aimlessly. Meet someone new. Spend some time alone. Do something. Do anything. Don’t sit around starving yourself. Turn what’s in your stomach into energy and turn that energy into force and force blood to your arms, your legs, your heart. Never forget your heart. Don’t lose weight. You should carry that with you always. Don’t lose weight. Don’t cut off your fat. Build muscle.
CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT CHECK IT OUT
On Guerrilla Graffiti Magazine, there will be an advice column, and we are looking to get it kick started! If you have a problem you’d like advice on, please email firstname.lastname@example.org. You will remain anonymous.
First off, thank you all so much for your support of 02.2013. In my opinion, it was a great success. It was very interesting forcing myself to write something each day, and doing something I really like to, which is trying to widen the spectrum of my poems as much as possible.
Now, I’m beginning work on a new project, which I’m going to give a working title of ANT Magazine, until I have an official title.
I am looking for motivated to people to work for this blog and I am looking for a wide variety of things.
I have decided to drive this blog/ online magazine from the idea that bloggers can post what they want/ when they want. I want my bloggers to have the freedom to do as they please, because I want them to have fun, and in turn, for the blog to be fun. Thus far, I have a couple poets signed on, photographers, artists, and even a pair of guys who are going to write about bad b-movies. Here’s some ideas of what else I’d be looking for.
- Reviewers (Music, Movies, Book, Calendars, Gyms, Restaurants, Starbucks locations, I don’t care)
- Artists (I don’t care if you make GIFs,or intricate water paintings or digital art, I could be looking for what you have. I’d really even like to have a talented doodler.)
- Alt Lit People (If you don’t know what alt lit is, this one doesn’t apply to you. If you do, I want your poetry, I want your memes, I want your short stories.)
- Film (I am really looking for good youtubers to post videos to the site. Once again, open-minded to what you got. I would love some funny videos.)
- Photographers (I would love photographers whose pieces stand alone and I would also love photographers who if I said “take me pictures related to “night” or “fourth of July” could deliver them in about a week. Experience does not matter. Talent and motivation do.
- I would really like to have someone to write on feminism on the blog, as this is a topic that is very important to me.
- Anything else. If you hula hoop, and want to post instructional hula hoop videos, I’d like you to apply. If you sing and play guitar, send me your videos. If you are a badass list maker or nutritionist or tech geek, I’d like you to apply.
IMPORTANT NOTE! You do not have to be American. I want this blog to have a global community and other cultures and countries are not only requested to apply, but I insist they do. I do have to ask that you can write English though. I’m sorry.
Most of all, I want people sharing their passions. I’m trying to make a community out of this. I want my bloggers interacting with our readers. I want people to have a reason to come back, and I want this to be a blog about sharing with the world, not making money. (haha… blogs making money.)
If you are interested, please send me something about yourself and an example of what you have to offer to email@example.com.
I hope everyone interested will apply.
#1: TIPS FOR WRITING BETTER GOD DAMN POETRY PART 1: I’m not a big fan of how to guides, especially how to guides on writing, but I really enjoyed writing this. I decided to shoot from the hip. Say what I truly feel. Focus less on the structure of poetry and more on the what keeps me going.
#2: THE OBNOXIOUS SOUND OF MUSIC UPSTAIRS: Most of my pieces I write and five minutes later, I post them to my blog. The fact that this is something I wrote a couple years ago and still held up on my blog made me extremely happy. I don’t write short stories or prose very often, but I was happy to find myself writing this piece, that not only helped me rationalize alot of things from my past, but also better understand love.
#3: MTV: When I sat down to write this, I thought it was gonna be shit. I thought it was gonna be pure angst and cheesy and trying too hard to be trendy, but in the end, I don’t feel that it’s any of those things. I didn’t realize until the comments started coming in that this piece wasn’t just about MTV. It was about the things we lose along the way, sometimes include our whole selves.
#4: AN AMERICAN PORTRAIT: A personal favorite. My trip to California really inspired this one in me. I wanted to speak of this iconic idea of America that we’ve created in our memories and our history, and maybe point us to the fact that it’s time to redefine what it means to be an American.
#5: I AM AN APARTMENT BUILDING: One of those ones where you know the title, and the rest just kind of comes from there. I feel like this piece really helped me to rationalize a lot of aspects of who I am in so many ways. My roommate and I talk about how I don’t really edit, but what I seem to do is rewrite the same poems in different ways until I get what I’m after. This one seems to be a later, but I don’t think necessarily better version of SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE THERE’S A COWBOY ARGUING WITH A BUDDHIST MONK.
More than anything, what I’d like to say is thank you. Thank you to anyone and everyone who stops by and reads my blog. Poetry is not something that is easily made a career. No one gets into poetry for the money. What I’m in it from is to share something I felt with the growing circle of people around me. I want to inspire people to be better. I want to challenge people to rethink who they are. I want to make a personal connection with someone on the other side of the world as me, and I have been lucky enough to get to connect to so many fantastic people, all with incredible stories and nothing but kindness to give back to me. You’re not a poet until someone reads your poem. I believe that too. Often times, I’ll read poems to my family and friends, and whenever I hit that publish button on wordpress, the same rush of satisfaction and honesty hits me.
Let’s make 2013 the best year there ever was. The world didn’t end, so we still have a responsibility to make our resolutions as courageous as we can, and our words equally as brave.
p.s. let me know what your favorite pieces were. :)