today was a cold day in denver. a few days ago they predicted we would get a crazy snow storm over the weekend and then nothing happened when they predicted it to. everyone was posting about it on social media posting cutesy memes and basically saying “where was that storm you guys said we were getting?” and then boom. it hit us. i decided to brave it and went up to boulder with a friend which was ill-advised but i was feeling adventurous. sometimes you have to weigh life over caution. anyways it was great. saw some good friends, drank tea and played a lot of cards against humanity. i wonder how erratic these weather patterns are or if they’ve always been like that. i think about the end of the world by way of us destroying the planet. i think about what that would look like. i try to judge the level of chaos that there would be. i imagine giant megastores being robbed of their merchandise, i imagine flaming cars in city streets, i imagine i have watched too much television. then i imagine staying home for the end of the world. the instinct to survive in humans is such a double-edged sword. when we’re stripped naked we protect our hearts with our clenched fists. i heard that would we could possibly make the planet unsustainable in a predictable 30 years. i never checked the accuracy of that because it depressed me that i could see it being true. it depresses me that our police officers make national news for allegations of shooting people. it depresses me that race is an issue in america in 2015. just hear that sentence. race is an issue in america in 2015. someday our children will say one of two things. one, your generation had a lot of race issues. or two, your generation fought against a lot of race issues. we are so saturated with all of this, we don’t have time to think about it. i’m complaining about social media on a blog site. oh man it looks like i am one of those loud hypocrites. i think the snow is getting to my head a bit. i digress. let’s go folks. my burner friends say 2015 could be a year of a lot of action. i think we can prove my burner friends right. because race is still an issue in america. because sex is still an issue in america. because animosity is still alive and we are still separated humans. oh i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to get political. we were supposed to be talking about the weather.
i deleted my facebook today. this is probably the ten millionth time i’ve deleted my facebook. also, i see the stupidity in deleting your facebook and then writing a blog post about it, but that’s where i’m at. it’s overwhelming, especially with things like ferguson. there’s just so much entitlement and hate and confusion and it’s overwhelming. it’s not the lens that i want to see the world through. beyond that, i can’t tell you how many times today i had the though “i should make that my status.” oh man.
i watched before sunrise with my friend, kathryn, the other day. there’s this part where the main woman talks about when she was in russia and away from media and all of that. she talks about how clear her head felt. that’s what i need and want. i’ve been feeling like time is finite, which is problematic, though i’m starting to see it’s not finite, but it is valuable, and i want to focus my time more usefully. hopefully, this means more blogging.
november really is my favorite month of the year. it’s just so transitional. it’s like when the plane begins its descent, to me.
i would give anything to be on a plane right now. a red eye flight over new york city, seeing those lights for the first time as the plane circles in like a hawk stalking its prey. i worked on thanksgiving and i don’t understand why. i think we really need to step back and remember that we will not die if everything isn’t readily available all the time. i saw the walmart parking lot full on the way home. full. just packed to the brim. it was too much. why? sit and do nothing. it’s okay. i promise. sit and do nothing. hug your family. write about your life, or do a backflip, take a nap, climb a tree, build a blanket fort, build a bench. do something, but please don’t go to walmart. and delete your facebook. maybe for a week? or maybe you’re just better at it than me; not getting consumed by it all.
my sister got married yesterday. it was beautiful. i’ve never seen her that happy.
i already feel ten million times better. hope you’re doing well, everyone.
happy thanksgiving. i am thankful for everything and i try daily to realize the responsibility that comes with the everything i have. i am thankful for you, dear reader.
I am stuffed to the brim with hamburgers and hotdogs and carne asada tacos and yeah. I’m a big fan of Independence Day. America and I definitely have a love/hate relationship, but honestly, I don’t think I could ask for a better muse. Over the course of the last few years, I’ve probably written a couple dozen poems about America, many of which are featured on this blog:
A BREAKUP LETTER TO AMERICA is the one on the blog that got the most views. Definitely falls more on the end of my struggles with America then any other poem I’ve written on the subject. It’s also the only poem I’ve ever said ‘nigger’ in:
Do you realize, America, that you called Joe Frazier a nigger when he wasn’t in the ring and a God when he had your flag on his shoulders?
I don’t feel super comfortable using such a hateful word but it was the only way to be honest to the subject matter. I felt it had to be said. This poem is definitely one of my favorites.
BLOOD ON THE AMERICAN HIGHWAYwas honestly me just playing around with American iconography. When I threw it out there, I thought it was trash and a year later I read it again and found that I really liked the poem. Plus, it’s just so much fun writing a poem called “Blood on the American Highway.”
A GIRL NAMED AMERICA I’m really not sure where it came from. I think, key word ‘think’, that it kind of came out of seeing the creepy beauty pageants in the movie Little Miss Sunshine and just how very American in a sense it seemed to shove a child on stage and make them perform for a crowd of adoring and viciously aggressive onlookers. The title I think came from A Boy Named Sue by Johnny Cash. I just love that. A something named something.
AN AMERICAN PORTRAIT came to me after spending some time in Southern California at an old friend’s parent’s house. They had this wonderful house and nice patch of land. The house was blue and they had chickens in the yard. It reminded me of The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams. I also was fairly into Edward Hopper’s art around that time so I was enamored of the idea of trying to paint with words.
MAYBE AMERICA I wrote in a doctor’s office while I waited to see the doctor. Haha. On my way over I really did see the first line in real life:
maybe america is one of those guys on suburban street corners in a lady liberty costume waving a sign about taxes and loans who makes minimum wage and has music in his ears to help pass the time
and it just came from there. Just pondering different scenarios. One of the more fun poems I’ve ever written, just trying to sample the culture, which never fills satisfying, especially in a country as big as ours.
Tonight I stumbled on a great poem on WordPress on the site “Bitchtopia” by a poet named Kiarra. The poem was kind of a continuance of Allen Ginsberg’s poem America. My favorite line from Kiarra’s poem is:
America had vodka for dinner that night. America keeps her vibrator in her backpack for emergencies in which she will need to resuscitate herself. America’s favorite book is whatever is the cheapest and America misses her stop.
Check out Kiarra’s poem and the rest of Bitchtopia, which seems to be a badass site, HERE.
Tomorrow night, I’ll be posting an old poem of mine, one of my favorite America poems that I’ve written, entitled AMERICAN HONEY. Which was the first poem I ever wrote about America and probably my favorite.
Otherwise, folks. Thanks for just always supporting me. It’s been 3 great years on this blog and a few months ago I thought poetry and I had parted ways, but turns out it’s that emotionally abusive ex-girlfriend I can’t say no to, and I’m that delusion boy romantic who answers when she calls at 2 in the morning.
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.