Spill yer guts.

General discussions of interest to readers and fans of Harlan Ellison.

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Rick Keeney
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Rick Keeney » Sat May 17, 2014 3:34 pm

The kid is sick:

I’m avoiding the vomiting child,
(Her upper digestion’s gone wild.)
She’s got junk on her chin,
and her pallor’s gone grim.
There’s a half inch of puke on the tile.

Douglas Harrison
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Douglas Harrison » Sun May 18, 2014 6:41 pm

my god is a stone god
silent, still, solid, unmovable
indifferent to offerings
ever-present
beyond doubt

it knows neither birth nor death
and casts a great shadow

D.

Tim Raven
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Tim Raven » Tue May 27, 2014 10:31 pm

My intellect is a flabby little beast

I’m gonna write a pageful. For lack of anything better to do. Eating, shitting, what is the point? To relieve myself. Relieve my life. I keep waiting for it to happen and guess what? It has been happening. I want a do-over.
Getting high on weed helps for a few minutes. The mornings are the worst, I hate going to work. I feel my life has become a waste but add insult to injury, I have to work on top of that. Who made up these rules? Worker bees unite.
I’m going to break for a minute and take a dump at 3:36 AM. Then smoke some weed.
A satisfying dump - it came out long, thick and dark, just like a sermon. Now the weed.
One hit, gotta load it up again. I used to play with pipe cleaners as a kid, now I play with them again as a 50 year old man. I’m smoking a mix of hybrids - Blue Dream and White Fire. Good combo. That’s better. Weed keeps me from grinding my teeth. Blanks my busy mind. Reels down the odometer charge. Gonna do another hit.

New paragraph! I feel much better now, like Bela Lugosi said. There is a funny smell in the air, I can’t barely describe it. It’s a tinge, rather than an all out smell. That tinge you get when a stuffy room is suddenly opened to cold, fresh air.Faintly unpleasant, like a small lie exposed. One more hit. You can summon a djinn to ungin my jimmy. Just thought of that smoking weed. That tinge is chocolate, I just realized. Not the direct aroma of chocolate, but that one room away whiff, more milk than chocolate.

No more teeth grinding now. Feeling slow and sleepy. Another hit. Gonna watch some porn, then back to bed.

Dream of the house of 29 doors.



Tim Raven

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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Moderator » Wed May 28, 2014 8:06 am

A Matter of Influences

I came to photography, as a vocation, later in life.

Looking back over the myriad of photographs I took as child and young adult, however, you can see very early signs that I might have a talent for it. Framing, subject matter, etc. Rough, but there. But it had not yet manifested itself into a passion, nor had I done much beyond aiming a camera at whatever caught my eye.

I always thought -- and this was echoed by others in my sphere -- that I would write. Short stories. Articles. Maybe a novel some day. In college I studied journalism, then moved into Broadcast Management. (My steady joke regarding my education and unrelated career these days is "I can program a television network, but very few job openings in that regard".)

But it seemed, as I was growing up, that the blank page and not the blank film was the direction in which I was headed. I had made a few shots here and there with point and shoot cameras, thinking they were pretty cool, but for the most part I identified myself with the written word.




http://thumbnailtraveler.blogspot.com/2014/05/a-matter-of-influences.html
- I love to find adventure. All I need is a change of clothes, my Nikon, an open mind and a strong cup of coffee.

Tim Raven
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Tim Raven » Thu May 29, 2014 7:12 pm

Steve - that is a spectacular web page, and a very heartfelt description of the origin of your photography interest. Web pages take an enormous amount of work to put together - I rate yours very highly.

Great job, I've bookmarked it and will visit periodically! Also liked Chris's page with the tunes - very cool!

Also, unrelated - thanks for your positive review of my poem "Too Young". That was a difficult one to put on paper.

Tim

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Chuck Messer
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Chuck Messer » Fri May 30, 2014 10:45 pm

I didn't remember at first.
The 28th was just another day, so I thought.
Just another day.
So why did I feel so lost?
Where was that dark gray cloud coming from?
What was it?
Then I looked at the calendar and realized what day it was.
Your birthday. You'd have been eighty-two.
Eighty-two.
It all comes back.
The nursing home, the slurred speech as Kali the Destroyer ate away at your mind.
The dementia, the creeping paralysis as you died inch by inch
Progressive Supranuclear Palsy.
No cure.
No treatment.
No hope.
No one even knows what causes it.
And I get to watch.
Watch you wither.
Watch you fade away.
For a year.
It took a goddamn year.
A goddamn year-long funeral.
Getting my heart torn out every time I saw you
The bleeding organ growing back
Getting torn out again.
And again.
And again.
Until I couldn't be sure you even knew I was there.
Until my stepmom called me one morning to let me know it was finally over.
Sometimes I dream that you're alive, you've even recovered somewhat.
You can walk again!
Then comes that nagging thought. A dream? Can't be, it's too real.
Finally I have to accept that it really is a dream. Then I wake up.
Happy Birthday, Dad. I miss you like hell. I wish you were here.
Some people are wedded to their ideology the way nuns are wed to God.

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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Moderator » Fri May 30, 2014 11:26 pm

Thank you, Tim. I'm happy the effort doesn't go unnoticed.

Have a great weekend.
- I love to find adventure. All I need is a change of clothes, my Nikon, an open mind and a strong cup of coffee.

Tim Raven
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Tim Raven » Mon Jun 02, 2014 5:41 am

I wake up dreaming about tragic comedians.
I love smoking the weed and the other drugs taken in abusive quantities like the vicodin, but pot is the best. It really knocks me off my train tracks and the cost isn’t high. Ingesting something to get out of my head has been a grand task for me, starting with the booze. The Life Tally tended heavily towards the tragic when drinking, so I switched to the weed. Good times vs. bad times on the weed is much less dramatic, and therefore generates less interesting writing. Less in quantity, not less in quality. It just makes me lazy. I woke up and will write this little spurt and then go to bed again, newly high and ready for the dreams.

It might affect quality too, but shit at least I’m not getting arrested and making the enemies all of the time.

Fucking Postscript: Yeah, it affects quality. This sucks.

Tim Raven

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Ezra Lb.
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Ezra Lb. » Fri Jun 06, 2014 8:20 pm

Ok Tim I'm drunk as a skunk as we say back in the old country so let's talk about drugs.

I once read an interview with Hendrix's bassist, Noel Redding. He said they enjoyed playing when they were high and they wound up thinking they had to be high to play. They thought that the drugs gave them something they didn't already have inside. Drugs didn't make that beautiful music anymore than god did.

The real world sometimes is a shithole so it's tempting to settle for those pretty pictures on the insides of your eyelids. But the poetry is in your heart and it's you. And it's got to get out or you'll die. I know it's hard. Lotusland is a great place to visit but I don't want to live there. Nothing ever happens.

I'm not a bad poet. I'm not a poet at all, good or bad. Oh I can string words together. I am facile enough. But there's no music. The words don't spill off the page. This makes me sad sometimes. But we all have what we have and can do what we can do.

Please keep struggling. Keep fighting. That's the way it is.
“We must not always talk in the marketplace,” Hester Prynne said, “of what happens to us in the forest.”
-Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter

Tim Raven
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Tim Raven » Tue Jun 10, 2014 10:33 pm

Ezra, I hope recovery from your late evening this past Friday was not too brain-rattling! Good advice, I appreciate the effort. I started a new poem and lifted one of the lines from your last post. I'll finish that one sometime soon, you can check it out and give a yea or nay. Until then, here is another morose poem I finished recently.

The Whisper of a Fingertip

It’s become clear to me
that my quest for importance is a futile one
because I’m not important
and I’m not alone in this

It’s become clear to me
that my expectation of personal talent
is a presumptuous one
and I’m not alone in this

It’s become clear to me
that my assumption of happiness
was optimistic
and I’m not alone in this either

I will give myself a pass
and forgive myself for accomplishing nothing
recognize that I’ve been faceless
in the company of multitudes
never standing alone

The future is clear
These fantasies are unattainable
They are the whisper of a fingertip.


Tim Raven

Tim Raven
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Tim Raven » Sun Jun 15, 2014 6:45 am

The House of 29 Doors

We all have what we have
and can do what we can do
odd skills return
and chase the boredom out of you

in the rooms in the rooms
there are holes in these floors
take a pinch
and a look
then a climb from the dark
how did you last visit
the House of 29 Doors?

The small girl is there to greet you
the same old chemistry set sits on the high table
as it did back then
neat, tidy, little bottles in rows
warm
woody
dusty
and
she wants me
hovering, hesitant, expectant
we walk slow
down the sunlit steps
to the big room below
where the angry relatives sit
still with ennui, staring at us
our breath is the only sound
as we start to fuck

We all have what we have
and can do what we can do
never expostulating
within these rooms
only stare at the drip
the seasonal drip
that corrodes the cages of millennium
our throats dry and spirit-hungry

When I do finally remember the past
my head snaps to and
I blow a small gasp
out of my mouth
out of my eyes and
out of my heart
once again
losing
the House of 29 Doors.


Tim Raven

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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Moderator » Sun Jun 15, 2014 7:53 am

Tim, that was terrific. Loved the use of imagery and line breaks to set the tone and cadence.
- I love to find adventure. All I need is a change of clothes, my Nikon, an open mind and a strong cup of coffee.

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Ezra Lb.
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Ezra Lb. » Sun Jun 15, 2014 5:18 pm

Barber's right, Tim. Wow. One of your best. If I had anything to do with that I'm proud to do so.

A drunk giving drug advice is kinda absurd. Does us good to have crawl home every once in a while. Nothing but bozos on this bus.
“We must not always talk in the marketplace,” Hester Prynne said, “of what happens to us in the forest.”
-Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter

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Chuck Messer
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Location: Lakewood, Colorado

Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby Chuck Messer » Sun Jun 15, 2014 9:27 pm

Definitely one of the best you've shown us so far. Showoff. Are you going to publish these somewhere?

Chuck
Some people are wedded to their ideology the way nuns are wed to God.

diane bartels
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Re: Spill yer guts.

Postby diane bartels » Sun Jun 15, 2014 10:05 pm

Tim, I concur. You have the talent for writing without a doubt. I am reading everyone's stuff here, but don't have much to say yet.


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