BEAUTIFUL HOUR

sometimes it’s just too much to ever handle
there’s too many woman with eyes like intelligent design
there’s a sun that has burned for all of us
and will always continue to burn for all of us
and when we don’t have that, we have the moon
we have the moon and the stars and the black silk sky
and the oceans that reflect the light so we’re captured
we’re captured between the two and we don’t have a choice
but to see ourselves as one common entity
we are all, all of us, every single one of us
part of the same vehicle of life, don’t flatter yourself
you are not something special
you are amongst a billion special things
we need to seek this out in one another, in everyone
we need to remember the way
that we help to push the grass out of the ground
we must remember the way that a heart can succumb
to a bass line, i’m not even joking
your heart can literally adjust to the music it hears
and it definitely can adjust to those around you
so i beg of you to answer, why can’t our eyes see
why can’t we appreciate the million instruments
that surround us, and the glorious grandiose
extraterrestial superhuman cataclysmic kaleidoscopic
kandinskily colorful grandiloquent magnum opus of existence?

you don’t know
none of us know
we make up questions
and we find answers
but we can feel each other’s presence
we know when someone is looking at us
we can feel love
never forget that one
we can feel love
sometimes it’s easy to get separated from that
but it’s there
i assure you
right now
i have enough for all of you
and i’m trying to pass it on
i can’t hold onto it
i’ll explode
we’d all explode
be unafraid to love those around you
be unafraid of what is different
because the things that are the same
are boring, they’re boring
and you don’t want to go to the same grocery store
at the same time
to see the same boring faces
and buy the same foods
and check out with the same cashier
every day of your short short short short short life
life is not very long
bad days drag out tugging at our legs
to appreciate the good ones

open your mind
open your eyes
open your arms
open your rib cage
and let that god damn drum beat
let it beat
let it beat like it has never beat before
bleed on the canvas of life
do not be afraid
of being too happy
there is no such thing
there are no limits
that’s the god damn point
you will not put a period on the end of a sentence
you are a conjunction
you are the connective tissue of everything
we need you
i need you
even if i don’t know it
reassess the hatred in your life
what aren’t you doing?
what should you be doing?
who should you be calling?
what do you have to say to who?
i guarantee you
i fucking guarantee you they will be glad to hear it
even if it’s bad news
and there is bad news
just open
regret there not being more hours in the day
and that is all
i want you to imagine yourself smiling
and now i want you to smile
can you do that for me?

can you do that for me?

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2013

READ “BUKOWSKI #2″

Interesting in submitting to Flashlight City Blues?

EARTHBENDING

some people’s hearts
are 1300 pounds of rage

some people’s minds
are antique arcade machines

some people’s guts
are ocean oil spills

and some people’s bodies
are imploding giant casinos

we are not small accidents
we are massive heart attacks
to happiness
and we
are nuclear radiation

we must speak loudly
we must love even louder
we must be unafraid
to shake the ground
to leave cracks in mountains
that will remain safe passage
for every holy virus
we awaken
to walk through
forever

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2013

READ “ON THE HUNT FOR THE HEART THAT BEATS LIKE MINE”

Interesting in submitting to Flashlight City Blues?

HOW A RAVEN IS LIKE A WRITING DESK

raven writing desk

when asking one’s self
how a raven is like a writing desk
things can get a bit
unnecessarily complex;
it is not hard to see
how a credible
and verifiable answer
may be hard to come by.
in this piece,
i will attempt to answer this question
which really
should have been answered long ago.

the first thing one must do
is to qualify
what exactly defines a raven.
experience points us towards the idea
that ravens are inconsistently
the strangest of businessmen.
note that all ravens crave independence
and a nice warm bowl of soup.
another less common accusation
of the raven kind
is that a multitude of their chamomile
is that which provides
shelter for storm drains
and by association
wormholes in the eternal treetrunk.

this is great and all
but what is the use of such conviction
unless we dive equally as deep
into the trenches of
orange libraries
to ask ourselves
what is a writing desk?
many scholars
have written on this
but in my research
i have found
they rarely remind us
that historically
writing desks
have been predatory creatures;
often confused with old crows
and barkeepers
who say things like
“put the jam beside the marmalade”.
i implore you
to not be ignorant;
to acknowledge
that bishops and angels
both use writing desks
as a source of inspiration
for their dissertations
of the latter subject
and the ladder observations.
writing desks taste of freedom
though the splinters
have been known to clog the drain
and leave a nasty hangover.

and now for the big question:
how are they alike?
it’s been suggested
that poe wrote on both
but i have no time
for absurd claims.
one’s life
is far too short
to get lost in logical nonsense.
we must be men
and stopping being children.
as we discussed earlier
ravens are the genesis of polka
whereas writing desks
symbolize the civil war
and the flamingos
who became martyrs
for its mahogany cause.
which is really the key here:
architecture.
both seem to have
a keen design
a design that suggests
dances with drunk waiters
and orbital malnourishment
which plagues us all the same.
a writing desk is to sweater vests
as a raven is to bubble bath water.
from there
certain jumps in logic
can be established
and we can find ourselves absolved
of the great question
which so long has burdened us all.

in conclusion
though it may be difficult at times
to find a system to something
as absurd as this
i find that these: two things
may be more alike
than we are willing to acknowledge.
the badgers of humanity
have a knack
for refusing to accept
that tolerance and compassion
towards washer machines and
the occasional stomach rumble
leads us to living in a glass onion
where we stop saying
to the top hat cricket on our shoulder
the ways that a raven
is unlike a writing desk
and start to genuflect
on the passing notion
that a raven
and a writing desk
are in factualitization
the exact
same
thing.

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2013

READ “CRICKETS”

Interesting in submitting to Flashlight City Blues?

AND NOW WE PRAY

just thought i’d shoot from the hip today. last night, i drank some wine with some of my best friends, logan and emma. it was wonderful. we talked. just sat here in this basement apartment and exchanged stories and laughed and were as honest as people should always be.

this is what it’s all about, folks. i know there’s a big battle going on out there for the american throne, but while people are out there trying to choose coke or pepsi, trying to sway the wind in the direction they prefer, i think we’re missing out on something important. sometimes i think we get so hooked on foreign policy, we forget the most miniscule of domestic policy. how to talk to one another. i’m not the first one to say it, and i won’t be the last.

the elections always make me see this great polarization between people. all of a sudden we seem to be in a civil war with democrats versus republicans. the system isn’t perfect. if you can’t acknowledge that, then you’ve got some thinking to do, but what i know of this world is we are all radical agents of change. we were given the ability to think things into existence.

what i’m trying to get at is we should stop putting up signs about diversity, and start talking to people who are different than us, and we are all different. we are all some version of weird and some version of interesting. we are all a hodgepodge of stories waiting to be heard. all we can do is share experience to learn to love better.

treat people behind counters like human beings. call the people you love who are far away. call the ones who are close. meet your neighbors. respect everyone. i heard a poem once at the mercury cafe, here in denver, where the poet said “why is honoring your children not a commandment?” there is a lot of truth in that.

i’ve been having a rough time, lately. the writing hasn’t been coming as strongly. i’ve felt a very heavy boulder on my shoulders and i’ve tried so many things to cure what ails me. in the end, i know i need the people around me. buildings without people are just archaeology. a testament to what once happened there. it’s not a stage until the lights come up and someone says something to someone. kerouac says “because in the end, you won’t remember the time you spent working in the office or mowing your lawn. climb that goddamn mountain.” but i think it’s clear that mountain isn’t just hiking mount everest. it’s not going on a road trip to the end of the world. these things are important, but each time you talk to someone you’ve never talked to before, heart-to-heart, you are climbing that goddamn mountain.

i know this has all been said, but i don’t think you can hear it too much. this isn’t my normal type of post, but i never want to lie to my audience. i want to have heart-to-hearts with my readers, because i know no one cares how intelligent i can make myself seem. no one cares what the most interesting mask i can put on is. the trick is to rip the mask off. to rip off the cover of the book and start reading.

thanks for reading,
love,
brice