Our Backgrounds before we met...

I'm an only child born in Montana in 1983, from a divided home. Parents divorced at seven, Mom was unstable and unfaithful. Dad obtained custody of me and we moved to Oregon Coast to live with my Grandma. I had unhealthy visits and relationship with Mom thereafter. My Grandma died at 12 and at 13 my Dad remarried an alcoholic woman, I had a strained relationship with them until adulthood when she stopped drinking. I had exposure to trauma; alcoholism, mental illness, verbal abuse and juvenile troubles. I rebelled by using drugs in my late teens and early twenties, I lived on my own for a few years after high school but had little direction.

My bride is the eldest with two little brothers, parents stayed in same area of Portland during childhood with lots of family support and her parents stayed married. They had Christian values but some anger and anxiety issues at home. She was sexually assaulted at 17 and never had good closure with this. She told me her parents didn't provide her enough help with things like this growing up. Status quo was the backbone of the family dynamic, challenging emotions were discouraged. She rebelled by being reckless with herself, financially and sexually. She decided to join the Navy at 19. She lived alone briefly, but mostly with Grandparents & Parents before our marriage.

I loved how we both grew up reading Archie comics. No other girl I had ever met had that in common with me. I think we wanted a surreal life like the one in Riverdale.

2002

She and I were 19 when we first met in my home town on the coast at an arcade. We became friends and secretly liked each other. I was too nervous to ever make a move on her. We traveled together, she stayed with me, we used drugs together and drank at times. One night she drank too much and had *** with a guy I knew at a party. I was devastated by this. She was Navy bound and I didn't see a real future for us. The next morning she left and I didn't talk to her again for two years. I figured she would be gone with the Navy soon and that she must not have been interested in a relationship with me despite the time we spent together.

2003

I was depressed about this rejection. I dated an older woman who was interested in me but was no substitute. I eventually moved to the Portland area to work and live. I still had few plans and was lonely, in or out of the few brief relationships I attempted. I never found someone that I felt safe with or had a true connection, let alone true love. She ended up not following through with the Navy and continued working her way up in her job at the call center. She attended community college and dated a few guys. She dated one guy for a couple of years who was not a good match for her but stayed with him off and on despite issues. His family was wealthy and treated her well. He slept around on her as did she. At one point he gave her an STD. She also had an ongoing affair with a married man in the military that she went to high school with. He had a child and a wife with mental health issues. She was still hurting a lot at times and not always doing well.

2004

She reached out to me via email after two years of no contact. We emailed back and forth a couple times over the next few months. We talked about meeting up. We spoke on the phone and eventually met up in Portland. We had an amazing night getting to know each other again and work past the confusion of our earlier days of friendship. I realized that she did in fact like me before but since I was timid and trying to be proper and take things slowly she didn't understand my motives. She apologized for her actions at the party as well. She claimed she was in a really messed up place and was making bad choices at that time. Getting our feelings out in the open was good and she appreciated my attitude towards being slow to make moves on her when we first met. I was worried about falling for her based on our history but eventually I was determined to give it a shot. We soon after starting dating and being intimate. Our love was extremely powerful and beyond all others we had both experienced. She broke ties with other suitors and shortly after we talked about marriage and started planning a wedding for the next year.

I remember when we first held hands. We were so shakey and she was quivering on my couch as I had my arm around her. We felt so safe with each other. We could finally be ourselves and do what our hearts desired. We knew we were on to something new and so amazing. We were so patient with each other as we navigated our new love and emotional thresholds.

I remember when we saw Matisyahu in concert together. That was a once in a lifetime experience and a life-changing moment for us. I feel it set the tone for things to come in our future.

I remember how creative my proposal to her was, in the Arcade where we first met. I hid the ring in a prize container from one of those claw machines. Pretending I got the ring from inside by reaching into the machine on one knee I was so nervous and wasn't sure if I could pull it off before she caught on. She looked so shocked and surprised. I was so excited she said yes! We took pictures in the photo machine and had burgers afterwards, I'd do all of it all over again just to see her face in that moment.

2005

We found an apartment for us in Portland. I moved in while she was still living back with her parents until the wedding. She had to change her number because the married man she was previously involved with kept calling her about changing her mind about marriage and continuing their relationship. She was offered a job in Denver and we decided to move away together after our sandy wedding in Cannon Beach. I still had a very hard time and was embarrassed with my past history with her. Many of my friends knew what had happened at 19 and how much it hurt me but I was so crazy about her I think I tried to pretend it didn't happen or that it was not a big deal because we were younger. We got married and moved to Colorado soon after. We made friends at a church, I became more active as a Christian and really loved being married. We were very involved in keeping spirituality in our marriage. I began to notice her poor financial decisions and practices more. This caused conflict but we always tried to communicate and work on things.

I remember when we went down to my folks for New Year's in 2005. We sipped tea in my Datsun as we drove to the coast over the snowy mountain pass. We told them of our engagement. We were all so blissful and excited. We never knew what was to come. We didn't even know about the opportunity in Denver yet. Our story is amazing!

I remember when I wanted to go see her in Portland and the roads were iced over. I left my car at a park and ride before I caused a wreck. I took the light rail across town then rode a bus to the Eastside shopping mall. The bus to her house was not running because it wasn't safe so I walked the rest of the 4 Miles sometimes having to crawl on my hands and knees to make it up hills in the ice and then I finally made it only to just spend a couple hours with her and fall asleep on her parents couch. Her Dad drove us back the next morning to my car so I could get to work. It was all worth it just to see her for that little extra time. I would have done anything for her.

I remember when she was interviewing for the new position in Denver? I drove all over Portland trying to find little toy cars to help with her illustration about how a team is like a car having all four wheels and how they work together to accomplish a goal. I was so proud of her for giving it her all and succeeding at earning that position. Now that I think of it, that car analogy applies to our family and us. We all need each other to be better and keep on track and be a team. I am so motivated by that and our boys. I lose my way without that and I want to be her reflection and motivation as she has been that for me. I truly thought we brought out the best in each other when we were together.

I remember when we were given tickets to see Fiona Apple. That was so spontaneous and a great way to kick off our time in Denver together. We always used to watch our same movies over and over again. Like the Friends DVDs and White Christmas every winter break and The Wedding Singer. We walked everywhere and lived simply. "I wanna be the guy, who grows old with you"

I remember in our first Denver apartment when we took baths together in our claw foot tub in the big bathroom. We put a board over the top and played cards. I liked playing Uno with her in bed too. She was so funny being slightly color blind and in the dark, mixing up the greens and blues. We played Uno in Breckenridge too at that cool bed and breakfast in the fall.

2006

We had continued fun and adventure in our new home of Denver. She was doing well as a trainer for the bank and I started working in health foods. We went camping in New Mexico a couple times with friends and we both took individual trips to Oregon as well as one together for her uncle's wedding. We had marital spats on occasion but always bounced back. The issues we had seemed like part of a normal marriage and were far better than what I had grown up around. I realized that marriage was a lot of work but I was up for the task. She occasionally became aggressive throwing things at me or breaking things during conflict.  I believed I was the problem and tried to change for her in many ways. With two incomes we still had trouble making our bills at times. She had debts that I never knew about that started to catch up with us but I took care of getting them settled and we paid off her car and traded it for an older Volvo Wagon that we both loved, I even had it repainted her favorite color for a birthday gift. Overall things seemed like they were progressing in a positive way.

I remember when we saw Midnight in concert in Boulder. That was the peak of our hippy days. We were alive with pleasure in our healthy vegetarian diets and practices living in a time and place like no other. I want to be like that again. Reggae was our music. We had much in common.

2007

We really fell into our roles in our marriage and the community; church and culture, friends etc. Things seemed very balanced and appropriate for us at that time and that age (24-25). We had separate bank accounts and jobs. I had money in savings. We started the process of buying a house so we could invest in something. She became pregnant shortly after. I embraced the challenge with positive energy but we were both in for a big change. We started having more fights. I didn't have many friends and would write to old friends via social media just so I could to catch up and tell them things were going great with being married to make myself feel better than I actually did. She hated the dawn of social media and also felt isolated I'm sure. She felt I should be doing more for her and I didn't know how to do what she needed but I failed to ask a lot of the time. After one argument, she left the house. My instinct told me to look at ******* and ******* as a retaliation. I had not done this much once we were married because she always met my needs but when things were difficult between us I felt more emotionally isolated. She walked in and realized what I had been doing. She was very upset, and because she was pregnant, thought I was not attracted to her. The truth is I found her even more beautiful and in fact when I looked at ******* I tried to look at women I found less attractive than her so that I feel good about what I have. I mostly fantasized about how these women were more submissive and loving than her. That is the part I needed to feel good about and feel better about myself with because I felt very dominated and controlled. She has never forgiven me for this and I will never stop feeling sorry to her for my brokenness. During one particular argument that year she was getting close to being violent towards me again and I pushed her away on the chest with my fingertips. She got very mad and said I hurt her. I immediately felt terrible and apologized. I never let something like that happen again. I have always avoided violence towards others especially women and of course her. I was defenseless against physical and emotional abuse.

2008

Our eldest son was born at the beginning of the year, it was a traumatic birth for everyone. We wanted a natural birth with a midwife but we were transferred to a hospital and she ended up having an emergency C-section, nothing went as planned. We had a really hard time coping with the emotions of this experience. A lot of buried feelings and trauma from both of us started coming out. We moved a month later into our new home outside of town. No more walking or biking to places, we had to drive everywhere. This house was next to our friends from church. We thought this would make us feel less isolated but we didn’t really have the community with them that we had hoped for. They were upset that they didn't have a child of their own yet and being around us might have been hard for them. My wife stopped working and stayed home with our son. All these changes made for a very difficult time. I did my best to support them but this was the first time we shared a bank account and needed to follow a budget more than ever before. We had no debt at the beginning of the year with money in savings but then the hospital bills put us down about $7,000 and rising with new home and moving expenses and baby needs. My job could barely keep up. She and I had a hard time adjusting. We could not afford to travel home to Oregon and visit family as much and we felt more and more isolated. She started showing me more signs of instability, locking herself in the bathroom with kitchen knives and scraping her legs which continued off and on for years to come. Talks of divorce and suicide threats seemed to happen more than before. I felt responsible and tried to fix her ever changing issues with me.

I remember when herr ******* were full and swollen with milk. It is so beautiful the way she could feed our babies. I wanted her in every way, our bodies belonged to each other. I was there for her and our shared pleasure. I loved it when she told me that she was mine in the heat of passion. This spark could only be a bandage for so long but I didn't know that yet.

2009

I tried to promote within my company but was not selected, they were cutting budgets and employment all around me. I felt worried about our future. I had always thought the military might be a good opportunity and could move us closer to family back home. My father-in-law encouraged me to look into the Coast Guard. I felt this would be a good way to get moved closer to Oregon.  I ended up joining the Navy because we found out we were pregnant again with our second son and that was the only way I could join a military branch. She worked off and on as a nanny and later in the year at a coffee house working nights. We barely spent time together and when we did it was a lot of hard conversations or arguments about finances with making up intimately in the middle of the night between times of caring for the baby. She once scratched my neck with her fingernails during an argument. People I worked with noticed. It was a hard time and we knew change was on the horizon with jobs and moving. We did visit Oregon that summer though and had a great vacation at the beach with a borrowed 4x4 and staying at a hotel and picnicking out of a cooler as well as going to her brothers wedding. I was 26 and about to join the Navy to provide better for my family at all costs sacrificing myself for their benefit because I would have rather died than look like I didn't try my best for them.

I remember when our babies would kick and move around inside her belly. I loved laying by her and feeling her tummy. I would hum to the baby and hear them move and squirm. I loved giving our boys baths when they were babies too. We had our little bundles of our love, wrapped in a towel in our hands, so tiny and vulnerable. I miss those days and want to remember them with her, aside from this state of melancholy.

2010

The Navy recruiters would only take me if we rented out our home and had her stay with family during boot camp and training. We moved to a furnished apartment in Denver and put our things in storage. She was 5 months pregnant and our eldest was two. I shortly after was let go from my job. Our second son was born in April. I got a contract with the Navy at the last minute but didn't leave until August. We sold our beloved vehicles and lived off retirement funds for six months and moved down to Florida where her parents had just moved out of the blue for work, to stay with them until I left for boot camp. I applied for temporary work in Florida at a dozen places but had no luck in my three months there. I took care of our eldest a lot while she took care of the new baby. Being in Florida was a culture shock for us but we had our moments of romance and made the best of it. Eventually I left for boot camp in August. It was really hard and sad to be gone. She stayed in Florida and came to visit me with the baby at boot camp graduation in October. I then went to Connecticut for five months of training. It was also hard but at least I could call home every day and be in the same time zone. I visited Florida during the winter break and saw my boys and her. We went to Disney world and had a great time on her parents. We also made a romantic home movie I could enjoy while away from her. I flew back to Connecticut and tried to make the best of things. My roommate was very abusive of substances and I resisted the temptation for a long time but the threat of being submarine service bound and missing my family pushed me to drinking every weekend and getting messed up to escape before I left.

I remember when we drove to Key Largo, Florida and stopped at a crazy bird wildlife center. I remember our oldest was so amazed hearing a bird say hello back to us. It was so foreign and fun there. I am glad we all shared that experience together.

I remember our trip to the citrus grove in Florida. That was such a great day for our family. I always look back on that with really fond sentiment. I felt like I was in a beautiful family music video with them.

2011

I finished Submarine Training and got orders back to the Northwest. The plan was all coming together. I arrived first and bought a car and got our items moved from storage in Denver to our townhouse rental in Washington. She and the boys joined me a month later. I didn't report to my Sub for another month as they were at sea. She became pregnant again with our third son right after arriving. We had just bought a small car and were not planning on another child. Towards the end of the year I was working a lot and having a really hard time, being bullied and treated poorly at work plus our financial situation was still very difficult. Adjusting to the military was hard among younger men being 28. I dreaded each day in that environment but I tried to endure it for my family. I went to sea for a couple months at the end of the year stopping in Hawaii and California. During this time She reached out to her ex married affair partner after six years of no contact. She didn't tell me until later. She said she needed closure with him, we were not in counseling yet but she decided this was appropriate. I flew home early from sea and wanted to surprise her. The stress and trauma of this quick transition home after being to sea for the first time (which was also traumatic) made me want to drink and get messed up before flying. I arrived home and surprised her but I seemed off to her which I was but didn’t explain why, I have never done that since. I got to be home for two months almost work free while we celebrated the holidays and prepared for the new baby to be born. She started getting more involved with a church and building a community for us which was great. Our financial struggles almost led us to foreclosure of our home back in Colorado but by the grace of God we got it sold with a short sale just in time.

I remember when I came back from Hawaii and brought her a beaded necklace and she wore it naked with her big beautiful pregnant goddess belly and we made passionate hippy love together. I want to grow out my beard again and spend my life making hippy love and feeling free again.

2012

Our third son was born in January. It was a very positive birth experience and much less stressful than the other two. Shortly after I flew out to finish the other half of the deployment I had missed. I really focused on being positive and spiritually connected by reading my Bible at sea which was helpful. I called her when I arrived in Japan halfway through being gone. She was upset because she tested positive for an STD while trying to get on birth control. I became suspicious of her yet she was suspicious of me. We both got tested again and I was clean, she told me she had a false positive after all. This put a big strain on our trust, especially being so far away. This forced us to be honest with each other about some things such as her contact with her ex lover and my drinking to cope. We were both very upset until I returned home and we could start some counseling to work through things. Forgiveness seemed to be difficult for us. It brought up hurts of the past when we were 19. She also had severe postpartum depression that became worse after each birth. I was still having a hard time with work and the submarine environment. Our church friends tried to counsel us but it was not the most helpful. My submarine was scheduled for extended repairs and not going to sea for three years, I would be transferred before the end of that period. I used this time to bond with her and my boys. I wanted to get better involved in our community and do volunteer work and side jobs to earn extra money. Our boys were all given diagnosis's for autism which begun to fill our lives with appointments and challenges for years to come but we were a good team in dealing with all of it. It gave us something to work together on but took our focus away from working on our own personal issues and relationship with each other as much as we should have.

2013

We had new years with both sides of our family in a snowy mountain setting in Oregon. It looked like it was going to be a great year until her Grandpa passed away suddenly. It ripped our entire family apart but especially her. He kept the family grounded and she was very close to him, he really loved all of us. She and I started going on dates again because we had Navy sponsored child care. It was the beginning of a really good thing for us. Tragically one night after a date we were dancing with the boys on the patio and I tried to pick her up and I lost my balance and fell on her, breaking her collar bone severely. She needed surgery and was very mad at me for years to come. She has a scar, a metal plate and numbness in her chest. We worked through it with our community from church but she still is very mad at me. I feel more terrible about this incident than she could ever know. I would lose a finger in place of that incident if I could. I continued having a really hard time in the Navy and I didn't want to stay in but She insisted our boys needed care only the Navy could offer. She also said she would divorce me if I ever left the Navy. I took this threat seriously even though she assured me later that she would never actually do that. Against my own convictions I reenlisted because I wanted to do the best thing for my family. We moved into base housing at the end of summer and didn’t go out to do things as much anymore. The house was nice but it ****** us in, we also had less community with people around our home. I started volunteering at church more and doing work with special needs people. I felt like I was doing good things and that I had purpose all around. I think she appreciated this about me.

2014

We started seeing a professional counselor together and individually. It became a regular event. I worked on myself and she worked on herself. I had a lot of issues with my Mom and eventually broke off communication with her for my own well-being and the betterment of my family. I got past a lot of the bad feelings I had. She worked on her traumatic experiences and our relationship dynamics. Just when things were going well I got a new boss who made things hard for me and others at work and I started messing up more. I got in trouble for messing up a job at work and was given strike one on my record. She lost respect for me as a provider but I tried to stay strong showing her that I would continue to do my best.

I remember when we had an appointment in Tacoma and we had a brunch date together afterwards. She looked so beautiful that day, I took her picture and was so proud to enjoy  huevos rancheros and momosas with her. I remember going to the Tacoma Art Museum seeing the Georgia O’Keefe exhibit, we have a great time together doing new things and feeding each other's interests. I loved laughing with her too, sometimes we just bust up like nobody's around. I loved the sound of her laughter. I loved watching Portlandia with her, it is so funny to remember the funny place where we became close and be able to relate together.

2015

I kept working hard and being involved with family and appointments for my boys and her. I still maintained my volunteer work and part time side jobs. I got strike two with the Navy for messing up again... I had just gained orders to leave the sub for local shore duty. I could not get out of the extended repair situation soon enough. She was very disappointed in me and not so understanding. I worked through this situation with our counselor as did she. He always told her I am a good man and that I do a lot for her and the boys. It's true, I care more than anything about them, I made mistakes and I feel bad especially when I cause my family stress. I left for shore duty in April. It was a hard time adjusting to the new routine but eventually we seemed to make it work. That summer we took a trip to visit Texas where her parents had just moved from Florida. We spent a great night together for our 10th anniversary in a hotel in Texas and went dancing. We had a lot more time together as my work schedule was less. The more people we had in our home working with our kids on issues the less useful my input seemed. I was not included as much in making family decisions because they all seemed to happen while I was at work, despite my objections. We tried to get our budget under control but she still had anxiety discussing spending. She continued to struggle with depression and was put on medication because she had still been harming herself. She was put on Prozac daily and anti anxiety medication as needed. He family members were not very supportive of medication which upset her but I always tried to be supportive in seeking help and continued care for both of us.

2016

We had a busy routine of kids in school now and home school and preschool and appointments for all of us. She wanted to go to church less and less. I started drinking a couple beers at night almost every day. I tried to mask my stress from her mood swings. She decided not to go to church at all anymore and focused teaching the boys about Jewish traditions exclusively which was hard for me to adjust to and confusing for the boys. I loved her and wanted to be supportive. As usual I was submissive and removed myself from the Christian church and some friendships. I feel like we lost our community at that point. We searched for a good place to have a new community with Jewish people but it was like starting over. I felt like I converted to Christianity for her when we got together and now I had to convert again, either way I would have done it for her because I loved her that much. The kids were confused by this change. After trying and failing at many synagogues we finally found one that seemed right for us.

2017

We finally had some money in savings because I kept it a secret and ended up planning a trip to visit her parents in Texas but it fell through due to lack of military flights. Instead we spent three nights away in a nice hotel resort as a family in February. We had three days of pure family time. Playing Battleship and other games in our room as a family, watching movies and eating at all the different restaurants and getting room service. Going swimming everyday in the foggy pool. I love our family and how we can have a great time together doing nothing but at the same time so much. That was so peaceful and relaxing. I wanted to keep doing things like that together as a family before our boys got too old. Shortly after this vacation she wanted to go back to school, then we bought a third vehicle so she could. Shortly after this she changed her mind about school and wanted to buy another house instead. I went along with it to please her and we practically killed ourselves trying to get the move accomplished with not much help or money. We had a good year over all. We got away for a romantic anniversary together in the summer. Just before the boys were going to start public school in the fall, her parents moved back to the area. She had anxiety with this and cut off contact with her parents and brothers for a while. Her Dad called me very upset and I tried to keep the peace until they reconciled. I was doing better with work and made up for lost progress as well as making arrangements to change jobs in the Navy to something more fitting. Since the boys started public school, I planned on leaving for Navy training in my new position after the beginning of the new year when they would be at a more settled place in their routine.

I remember when we went to the Olympic Club for our anniversary and we stayed there for a night away. We drove the long way through the countryside talking about new music that she wanted to share with me and she made notes of it on my phone notepad. We brought our own cooler and picnic that included Session Lagers and chocolate. We checked in to our room and made noisy bohemian love on the edge of the creaky bed in our small European room inches from the door. Then we went to the theater downstairs and watched the late showing of a really interesting Sci-fi movie "Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets". We took showers and slept sweetly together. We made love again in the morning before we had a delicious brunch outside on the patio. We took the long way home and drove around on new roads and found our way out of cell phone reception. We figured out the road less traveled to get back to our home. We loved being alone and away together, just one night can make such a difference and mean so much.

I remember going to the Forest Theater to see Tarzan with our boys. That was such a great time. I would love to get our boys into theater and go see them someday. I wanted to keep our dreams and goals together alive and not lose opportunity and fall short by losing our partnership.

I loved going camping in Seabeck. Loading the truck with all our gear and getting away. Archer got sick from the cowboy caviar and I had to clean him and the tent up in the night. I was glad we had each other to be a team in our marriage in that situation as with all the other times. These sorts of things are what escape a person's mind when they are determined to get a divorce.

2018

We had a lot less money than the year before, again buying a house took its toll on finances as did the boys school and after school activities. I stayed very involved taking the boys to appointments and sporting practices. We stopped going to synagogue but tried to practice Judaism at home as much as possible, which I was very supportive of and involved with. She was still depressed and talking about suicide at times. I encouraged her to get help as I always had. Eventually she was diagnosed as Bipolar 2 and manic depressive by a new provider. She started taking new medicine for this and was worried I would want to leave her. I assured her I would never leave her and that I always wanted to work on things with her and help her. I left for training in Mississippi February 8th. It was going to be hard but I thought it might be good to have some time apart from each other to miss one another and reflect on things as well as prepare for times when I would be away at sea. I got in trouble in Mississippi for giving junior personnel a ride and being negligent of people who might be underage and possibly drinking, this became strike three. I never thought this could happen. I became recommend for separation from the Navy shortly after and was stuck in Mississippi for six months instead of six weeks. She was supportive through most of it but seemed to fall into hopelessness. Money was spent by her that we didn't have without discussion. She quietly leased appliances and tires and purchased a vehicle as well as having a secret bank account and email address. I discovered through our insurance company that she wanted to leave our policy for divorce. I didn't know this and she had even told the boys she wanted a divorce before I even knew. I was caught off guard and confused. I kept trying to communicate and reason with her but she didn't want to talk. I refused to give up and wrote emails and a letter but it only seemed to push her away further. By the time I left Mississippi she had filed for divorce and a restraining order against me saying I was unstable and a threat. I couldn't return to my home. My whole life fell apart in just a couple months. I found out she had been talking to other men in the Navy and keeping more secrets. I assumed this was her way of taking control during a difficult situation. I really needed her support during this hard time of transition out of the military. I became homeless, jobless and without my family in a month. I prayed to God that given time things might change between us but it was of no use. Bipolar had consumed whatever was left of my bride and there was no turning back.

I felt that our love was not one to be cast away. Other people might not understand or agree but what we had was truly special. We may have surely needed some time and space to get counseling as well as reconfigure and repair our marriage but I didn't feel like our relationship was irretrievably broken. She was so important to me and I thought she was the love of my life and would always have my heart. I wanted to be her partner in love and life, watching our boys grow up and being there to support each other. Being that she is Bipolar I knew she will need a lot of help and I was more than willing to assist her in making sure she was taking care of herself and not throwing herself into harm's way, ensuring she sticks with a plan we agree to for consistency. I cared about her deeply and had much compassion for her. I didn't believe she was thinking this through or thinking about the future. I really wanted to look at the long and short game with her, neither seemed appealing to me if we progressed but here we are. Things are not going to be easier. She will still have to face her problems and deal with me on a regular basis for the rest of our lives no matter what happens. She can believe her lawyer when they promise she'll get the moon and stars out of this in the end but they only see half of the story. Above all they want our money. It would have been good for her to face me in person and tell me she wanted to divorce and we could have started talking about it with a counselor to figure out how that could even work. Instead she chose to avoid as much responsibility for her actions as possible by doing everything in my absence as if I am not a real person. I had to find out about it from our insurance company and was last to know.

Immediately after I hear the word divorce I looked into her cell usage history and find she has a new military boyfriend that she talks to 20-30 times a day. She felt she owed me no explanation for this and it was none of my business. A mature person would have let me know about this months before and I would have seen it coming but there was no sign until it was seemingly too late. She strayed down a dark path and never turned back.

Her proposed parenting plan was cruel and had no thought put into it. Two hours a week with supervision, no holidays but father's day? She said she’s not trying to keep me from the kids but this is the exact opposite of what she’s saying with the paperwork she filed. She seems very mixed up and still you continues to make rash and sudden choices. Like a completely bogus restraining order against me that contradicts so many facts she has stated herself on record during my Navy retention process. She was so bold as to want to change her identity and even put it in ink on the divorce paperwork as well to a whole new name. That is not the actions of a stable person. She has since changed her mind again on that just as quickly as everything else in her recent life choices. I can't trust that any decisions she is making right now are for the right reasons or that she is of sound mind. I have never seen her so conflicted and confused, grasping at straws and running scared from herself.

Using the legal system so carelessly and going back and forth makes me feel like she is not ready to be making big choices and changes for her and our family. It is very unfair that she can’t consider my feelings on things and what I wish for the boys as well. Very reckless behavior. She can’t anticipate that the day would come where she has to face me and talk to me like an adult. She wants to hide behind the legal system which only leaves much to be unresolved. Ghosting me is not really an option in a marriage of 13 years with children.

Having relationship conversations is too difficult for her at this time and she would rather avoid it and skip to divorce because she thinks that will somehow be easier. I suspect she knows she is making poor choices, possibly out of fear and lust for something new and less painful than the reality of things right now. Our marriage was nowhere close to divorce when I left. She was sad to see me leave and woke with me at 3:30 am to say goodbye, making me coffee and cookies for me to take with.

Our community and accountability seems to be gone due to the continued trend of isolation that she is drawn to. The God fearing loving committed wife I thought I had is gone or trapped inside a terrified shell of herself. She cut me off from her family members and I can't discuss my concerns about her with them either. She only seems to have community with those who are not going to discourage her from these destructive choices.

I understand we have had issues and struggles but we are no worse off than other couples during challenging times. I think that because we loved each other so much it just hurt more when things got hard. I can't accept or believe this is justified or the right choice based on the positive trend we were on before I left. This was the longest break we have ever had from each other and I think she just needed someone to be there more for her, no matter who it was. Time can heal all wounds and I hope that is true for our relationship as co-parents.

She still refuses to tell me about why she wanted a divorce or talk about anything beyond caring for the kids. I have fought the restraining and I can see my boys again but I am still not allowed to my home without her permission.

I have risen from the ashes in just a couple months. I rent a room from a nice couple from our old church and obtained a good paying job while I continue paying the household bills.

This is a really hard time, this difficult spell could have been a tool to better our relationship. I wanted to experience more beautiful memories with her. We had so many more beautiful memories and dreams left to create. This is what marriage looks like to me now as I lower the casket.

1.

From our
safe windows,
we crane our necks,
rubbernecking
past the slow
motion wreckage
unfolding in Homs.

We remain
perfectly
perched
to marvel at
the elegant arc of
a mortar shell
framing tomorrows
deep horizon,
whistling through
the twilight to
find its fruitful
mark.

In the now
we keep
complicit time,
to the arrest
of beating hearts,
snapping fingers
to the pop
of rifle cracks,
swooning to
the delicious
intoxication of
curling smoke
lofting ever
upward;
yet
thankfully
remain
distant
enough to
recuse any
possibility
of an
intimate
nexus
with the
besieged.

2.

From our
safe windows,
we behold the
urgent arrivals of
The Friends of Syria
demanding
clean sheets
and 4 Star
room service at a
Tunisian Palace
recently cleaned
and under new
management
promising a
much needed
refurbishment.

The gathered,
a clique of
this epochs
movers and shakers,
a veritable
rouges gallery of
ambassadorial
prelates, Emirs and
state department
bureaucrats
summoned
with portfolio
from the
darkest corners
of the globe.

They are
eager to
sanctify
the misery
of Homs,
deflect and
lay blame
with realpolitik
rationalizations,
commencing
official commissions
of inquiry,
deliberating
grave considerations,
issuing indictments
of formal charges for
Crimes Against
Humanity
while
remaining
urgently
engrossed
in the fascination
of interviewing
potential
process servers
to deliver the bad news
to Bashar al-Assad
and his soulless
Baathist
confederates,
if papers
are to be
served.

Yes, the diplomats
are busy meeting
in closed rooms.

In hushed circles
they whisper
into aroused ears,
railing against
Russia’s
gun running
intransigence
and China’s
geopolitical
chess moves.

Statesmen
boast of the
intrepid justice
of tipping points
and the moving poetry
of self serving tales,
weighing the impact
of stern sanctions
amidst the historical
confusion of the
asymmetrical
symmetries
of civil war.

Caravans
of Arab League
envoys roll up
in silver Bentleys,
crossing deserts
of contradictory
obfuscations,
navigating the
endless dunes
with hand held
sextants of
hidden agendas.

The heroic
Bedouins are
eager to offload
their baggage
and share
on the ground
intelligence from
their recent soirées
across Syria.

They beg
a quick fix,
the triage of a
critical catharsis
to bleed their
brains dry
of heinous
recollections,
pleading
release from a
troubled conscience
victimized by
the unnerving paradox
of reconciling
discoveries of
perverse voyeurism
with the sanctioned
explanations
of their respective
ruling elites.

The bellies
of these
scopophiliacs
are distended;
grown queasy
from a steady diet
of malfeasance
an ulcerated
world parades
in continuous loop;
spewing the raw feeds
of real time misery;
forcibly fed
the grim
visions of
frantic
fathers
rushing
the mangled
carcases
of mortally
wounded
children
to crumpled
piles of smashed
concrete that were
once hospitals.

We despondently
ask how
much longer
must we
look into
the eyes
of starving
children
emaciated from
the wanton
indifference
of the world?


3.

From our
safe windows
we wonder
how much
longer can
the urgent
burning
ambivalence
continue
before it
consumes
our common
humanity in
a final
conflagration?

My hair already
singed by the
endless firestorms
sweeping the prairies
of the world.

How can we survive
the trampling hoards,
the marauding
plagues of acrimony
fed by a voracious
blood lust aspiring to
victimize the people
of Homs and a
thousand cities
like it?


4.

From my safe
window I stand in witness
to the state execution of
refugees fleeing the
living nightmare
of Baba Amr.

The ****** of innocents,
today's newly minted martyrs,
women and children
cornered, trapped
on treacherous roads,
mercilessly
slaughtered and
defiled in death
to mark the lesson
of a ruthless master
enthralled with the
power of his
sadistic fascist
lordship.

I cannot avert my eyes
marking sights
of pleading women
begging for the
lives of their children
in exchange for
the gratification
of a sadists
lust.

My heart
is impaled
on the sharp
spear of
outrage
beholding
careening
children mowed
down with the
serrated blades
protruding
from marauding
jeeps of laughing
soldiers.

I drop
to my knees
in lakes of
tears
reflecting
a grotesque
horror stricken
image of myself.

My eyes have
murdered my soul.

The ghastly images
of Homs have chased
away my Holy Ghost
to the safety of a child's
sandbox hidden away
in a long forgotten
revered memory.


5.

From my safe window
I seethe with anger
demanding vengeance,
debating how to rise
to meet the obscenity of
the Butcher of Damascus.

The sword of Damocles
dangles so tantalizingly close
to this tyrants throat.  

The covered women
of Homs scream prayers
“may Allah bring Bashar to ruin”

Dare I pray
that Allah trip the
horsehair trigger
that holds the
sword at bay?

Do I pick up
the sword
a wield it
as an
avenging
angel?

Am I the
John Brown
of our time?

Do I organize
a Lincoln Brigade
and join the growing
leagues of jihadists
amassing at the
Gates of Damascus?

Will my righteous
indignation fit well
in a confederacy
with Hamas and
al-Qaeda as my
comrades in arms?

Do I succumb to
the passion of hate
and become just
another murderous
partisan, or do I
commend the power
of love and marshal
truth to speak with
the force of
satyagraha?

I lift a fervent prayer
to claim the justice
of Allah’s ear,
“may the knowing one
lift the veil of foolishness
that covers my heart in
cloaks of resent, cure
my blindness that ignores
my raging disease of
plausible deniability
ravaging the body politic
of humanity.”

6.

Indeed,
physician heal thyself.

I run to embrace my
illness.

I pine to understand it.

I undertake the
difficult regimen
of a cure to eradicate
the terrible affliction.

This
pernicious
plague,
subverting
the notion
of a shared
humanness
is a cunning
sedition that
undermines
the unity of
the holy spirit.  

The bell from
the toppled steeples
still tolls, echoing
across the space of
continents and eons
of temporal time.

The faithful chimes
gently chides us
to remove the wedge
of perception that
separates, divides
and undermines.

Time has come
to liberally
apply the balm
that salves the
open wounds
so common to
our common
human condition.

The power of prayer
is the joining of hands
with others racked
with the common
affliction of humanness.

Allah,  
My eyes are wide open,
my sacred heart revealed,
my sleeves are rolled up,
my memory is stocked,
my soul filled with resolve,
my hand is lifted
extended to all
brothers and sisters.
Lift us,
gather us
into one
loving embrace.

Selah


7.

From the safe
windows of
our palaces
we live within
earshot of
the trilling
zaghroutas
of exasperation
flowing from
the besieged
city smouldering
under Bashar’s
symphony of terror.

Our nostrils
fill with the
acrid plumes
of unrequited
lamentations
lifting from the
the burning
destruction
of shelled
buildings.

Our eyes spark
from the night
tracers
of sleeking
snipers
flitting along
the city’s
rooftops.

The deadly jinn
indiscriminately
inject the
paralysis of
random fear
into the veins
of the city
with each
skillful
head shot.

These
ghoulish
assassins
lavish in their
macabre work;
like vultures
they eagerly
feast on the
corpses of their ****,
the stench of bloated
bodies drying in the
sun is the perfume
that fills their nostrils.


8.

From our
safe window
we discern the
silhouettes of militants
still boldly standing
amidst the
mounting rubble of an
unbowed Homs
shouting;

Allah Akbar!!!
Allah Akbar!!!
Allah Akbar!!!

raising pumped fists,
singing songs
of resistance,
dancing to
the revelation of
freedom,
refusing to
be coward by
the slashing
whips of a
butchers
terrible
sword.


9.

From my
safe window
my tongue laps
the pap
of infants
suckling from
the depleted
teats of mothers
who cannot cry
for their dying
children;
tears fail
to well from
the exhaustion
of dehydrated
pools.

10.

From my
safe window
my heart stirs
to the muezzin
calling the
desperate faithful
from the toppled
rubble of dashed
minarets.

We can
no longer
shut our ears
to the adhan
of screams
the silent
voices that echo
the blatant injustice
of a people under siege.


11.

From my
safe window,
I pay
Homage to Homs
and call brothers
and sisters to rise
with vigilant
insistence
that hostilities
cease and
humanity be
upheld,
respected and
protected.


12.

From my safe
window
I perceive
the zagroutas
of sorrow
manifest as a
whiling hum,
a sweeping
blue mist,
levitating
the coffins
from the rubble
of ravaged streets.

The swirling
chorus of
mourning
joins my
desperate
prayers;
rising in
concert
with the
black billows
of smoke
dancing
away
from the
flaming
embers
of scorched
neighborhoods.


13.

From my
safe window
I heed
the fluttering
wings
of avenging
angels
furiously
batting
as they
climb
the black
plumes,
lifting from
the scattered bricks
of the desecrated
city.

It is the
Jacob’s
Ladder
for our
time;
marking
a new
consecrated
place
where
a New Adam
is destined
to be formed
from the
pulverized
stones of
desolation.

14.

From our
safe windows
we peer into
resplendent
mirrors
beholding
the perfect image of
ourselves
eying
falling tears
dripping blood,
coloring death
onto the
blanched sheets
of disheveled beds.


15.

From our
safe windows
our voices are silenced,
our words mock urgency
our thoughts betray comprehension
our senses fail to illicit empathy
our action is the only worthy prayer


16.

From my
safe window
I hear the
mortar shells
walking toward
my little palace,
the crack
of a ******
shot
precedes
the wiz of a
passing bullet
whispering
its presence
into my
waxen
ear.


17.

From my
safe window,
my palms scoop
the rich soil
of the flower boxes
perched on my sill.
I anoint the tender
green shoots of  the
Arab Spring
with an incessant flow
of bittersweet tears.

Music selection:
John Coltrane
A Love Supreme
Acknowledgment

Oakland
2/28/12
jbm

It started with our late nights and early morning conversations
The random occasions that turned into night caps of psychological ******* is what intrigued me
I only want to know her on a platonic level
I want us to feel something different
Something real
Because truth is when you speak
I get a little weak
The vibrating waves of your voice sends my adrenaline into a rush of multiple frequences
It causes me to have premature ventricular contractions
Meaning you make my heart skip beats
In other words I want us to have soul ***
Our bodies to touch but with clothes on because you haven't been fully naked until you've allowed your fears to be exposed
Understand this isn’t a ****** prose
I want this poem to reroute the superficial ****** game that men played with you
Tonight my only intentions are for us to get high
But not with herbs
I want us to be faded with nouns and verbs that speak life as I ignite this erratic twelve play because the foreplay is just for play
Eargasms that constrict our minds let our spirits bind from the moments when I forgot to pull out by not realizing I was coming on too hard
No need for protection when we experience the cerebral stimulating erections from the raw ******* of sedated discussions
Imagine the eruptions you’ll experience when you vibe off me
Can you feel it yet? No?
Maybe a little deeper is what you need
I need for you to feed me your thought process so I can taste your emotions
If this poem had a body you would be the brain
So let me investigate your introspection by interviewing every inch of you
Reaching the climactic **** of this conversation by deep stroking into your deepest seas so I can see exactly what lies inside a divine mind
You will make the seven wonders wonder where they went wrong
A love we share that's so vividly deep even the four oceans will be jealous of its depth
I want us to be in depth with each other
I want my thoughts to wrestle with your feelings and your questions play hide and go seek with my answers
Suffocate me with your beauty
Ravish me with every word so I feel the sensations from two sapiosexuals making love
I want us to stargaze under Jupiter’s moon as we stare into the solar system trying to combine our souls with God’s system
Let’s touch each star as we track down a meteor shower and shower each other with laughs for hours until you’ve fallen asleep on my chest
And the best part of it all is watching you sleep
Because as you lay here
I have dreams about your dreams
Then realize how jealous I am because your dreams can see parts of you that I’m still dying to meet
So if I am someday privileged to make this come true, you must allow me to fall in love with you

Thimble

Darkness rises from beneath,
small, ugly and has no teeth.
Crawls out from the slime,
gets more creepy each time.
Only happens once a year,
one long day makes a career.
Wanders out and wonders why,
one day is one day to shy.
Determined to make a day two,
this isn't Horton hearing a Who.
This is one mean creature,
you student, it teacher.
Only the size of a thimble,
has no name just a symbol.
Dug a hole through the pond,
it's like a miniature James Bond.
Rules the pond like no other,
looking for his missing mother.
Interviewing anything swimming,
dodging every single skimmer.
As the puddle starts to sink,
not an inch or a drop to drink.
A whirlpool circles in center,
into the whole that it enter.
Back down into its hole,
one day a year, it will patrol.

Darkness rises from beneath,
small, ugly and has no teeth.
Crawls out from the slime,
gets more creepy each time.
Only happens once a year,
one long day makes a career.
Wanders out and wonders why,
one day is one day to shy.
Determined to make a day two,
this isn't Horton hearing a Who.
This is one mean creature,
you student, it teacher.
Only the size of a thimble,
has no name just a symbol.
Dug a hole through the pond,
it's like a miniature James Bond.
Rules the pond like no other,
looking for his missing mother.
Interviewing anything swimming,
dodging every single skimmer.
As the puddle starts to sink,
not an inch or a drop to drink.
A whirlpool circles in center,
into the whole that it enter.
Back down into its hole,
one day a year, it will patrol.

ok so here is what we are going to do
i'm going to get a bout de souffle
what was i gonna do..
one thing getting to nether still need you
are you all here
one thing getting getting to noter
288 guitars 
i've been hoping  don't get much dumber 
and getting to noter
this movie is not yet rated
i'm kind of trying to decide
i will send an email to your parents
so… just off the bat 
your parents are not ok with that 
kind of thing
she was out there interviewing her?
right there… have you seen that? ok good
movie theater to hide
c'est rare
reste avec moi
ciao petite fiiiille
elle est la bas je crois
vous parlez français? yes
attention ma petite fille on ne plaisante pas avec la police parisienne
you think i'm lying? you are
i didn't see you
you don't believe me
bonjour mignonne
qu'es ce qu'il dise
les flics me recherche
parle le moi quoi? ca alors
tu es marie
c'est trop **** maintenant d'avoir peur
bonsoir madame
il faut absolument que je trouve antonio
accelere minouche
il est alle a monpellier
why don't you smile
it would certainly surprise me
sourrrit sourrrit
je pense a quelque chose?
je ne sais pas
je voulais être seule
c'est finis
tu m'emmene au champs elysee
au revoir 
tentez votre chance
un cafe alors
moi je peux pas partir
et puisque je suis méchante avec toi c'est la preuve que je suis pas amoureuse de toi
ahh c'est trop complique
j'ai envie de dormir
c'est vraiment dégueulasse
how would you relate
destroy the rules
young actors
....sommes seuls, cette certitude de nous-mêmes dans la sérénité de la solitude ne sont rien en comparaison du laisser-aller, du laisser-venir et laisser-parler qui se vit avec l'autre...
audition for the leading character
interesting combination
the criminal
just the edge of his frame
she seems innocent at the beginning
looking at his notes
just fyi i throw out someone
loving and desirable
playing off of that very consciously
you just not be working
archival stuff is on Facebook
c'est l'heure du gouter
de la glace au chocolat
working on your transcripts/ paper edits
that's probably not a smart thing to do
t'y va
Not this sense
that I don't know what the hell
a human girl is...
where’s the coast guard? 
just a spotlight gimme something
ca commence a 6h 
t'es cool
quickly
i smells like **** did you ****?
you are the love de ma vie
he talks like that he is french
she is like ze morning sun in ze...morning 
beautiful
ze temps is in ze essence
muaaah
is our classroom
i can sense the connection
the connection? 
the connection entre nous
so madame alezraa give me this much
i heard boss
he is not doing anything
to give me a kiss 
it's in the 1st tab
it's still there
you don't have to click
i can't save it, just stay with me
there is no word on this ****
i need the inspiration
you are my muse
c'est pour ca qu'ils sont si petit
small
je vais m'occuper de
the whole point of life is to rearrange it in a coherent running story
people don't talk in stories
cut each section
some sort of a story
nice
tu veux que je mette
ouai ok attends
elle est l'autre feuille
permien tu veux que je colle recolle decolle coupe recoupe decoupe
how do you feel about solving…I mean it's an interesting way to solve it…
〜flowed〜 nicely
it was sort of an ingenious solution
she's in the airplane, she's in the sofa
try to transition between the two subjects….where does your friend come from?
what it was like landing in New York, looking out the window...
the process of arriving
not really fair to say that
in the future, if you're going to try to tell a story…in their minds….what's the story she's going to be telling me?…..coming home
fill in the blanks
don't go shoot blind, that's the biggest mistake
does that make sense?
great!
wubwubwububwubbbbbwubwb
gloving is......flowing lights in sync with the♩music ♫
flowing in gloving is broken…
liquid
finger rolls
tutting
figure eight ∞
wubwubwubBAMwubwubwoosh
wave-like movement…basic thing….wrist in a motion
tutting is like the angles…. not um 〜flowing〜….like tetris
you want to more, rather than following
solid ⸪lights, ⸫single⸭ solid lights⸬
pink to green to orange to yellow to blue
advanced strobe, solid line of color [...] streak of purple
electronic, dustup, elector, house, trance…
you’ll probably never see anyone gloving to like, classical music ♬♪
my name is Henri Geneste and I'm a glover WUBwubwubwubbbWUBWUBAHHHwubwubWUBWUBWUB[ONE][TWO]WUBwubwub[THREE­]
putain c’est magnifique
je me demande si il fait ca la nuit, quand il arrive pas a dormir...
window thing, kind of dumped
either the ours magna or the I equals me squared²
like language, like art, there are rules
go out and break them, just mucking around
fix it, wanna make one, totally your creative decision
how awkward
a bout de souflle
totally revolutionary
ainrr
radical, argue truer, but it's jarring, that's one way to do it!
aware that they're there but not ⑈jarring⑇
close to wide…..there's a cut there but the eye can follow it
um i have to go...
bye henri!!!
bye!
bye man.
see ya monday!
the hair!! im gonna shave it this weekend
I've been to raves
is he, like, a straight-edge?
there's drugs…do you guys ALL go to raves?
how the audio?
looked cool, the rain in the background
DUHDUHDUH that's hard to do
a huge amount, i'm sorry but gloving without the music?
if he does drugs OR NOT, how he's enjoying it OR NOT, if it interferes with his studies OR NOT..
just FYI we were all young yesterday
two bodies
he's here cause he's not going, right?
are you interested?
oh i would be very interested
yeah i see what u mean
you could come with me….i could always take the bus
it'd be cool
moi elle sera belle
here we go!
woah
their audio visuals are not very HOT
hours per day?
1…2 hours a day
sometimes 30mins
mostly people, sometimes like little animals
mostly people
i look at their art a lot
really interesting style
environments
if i want to…how I see them in my head
stuff like that
usually kinda random
i pretty much self taught
mostly from practice
everyone draws…but i got serious about it, like very…6th grade
i don't like the idea of competitions
and mum drawing is like, something that's kinda important
a passion
not sure i would want to go into it as an industry
more than just art
for now im not really sure
alright
so our usual questions
eyeline! thank you
on the couch….at the end it was really weird
who was…sitting where?
where were you?
she didn't really even really look, she was too far away, she just kind of….looked
much…she might not have ever looked
with the eyeline…it was pretty steady, no jerky-herkys, there were several edits
forgive it cause there's enough change
you could follow it, you could see that time had shifted
the content demanded it
WOAH okay now i'm really curious
we could see it, but then it was on the something else
process the image
now we're trying to look at the art, now we need more time
arc? did u feel like there was an ◜arc◝?
umm yeah…..
how many hours a day do u draw?
try to make sensible out of that
is that they use 2 3 four…
uh...cut..i did….cut
the cutting itself is like a commentary on her
since i was little. when i was little
when i was little
but my parents, my family don't
hands and arms
collages, magazines
photography
big part of photography
San Francisco Art institute
graphic animation, we only had like 3 weeks
still lives, models we would draw them
we had like an exposition
the person my mom works with's husband
wanna do an artistic career
alright so
not the greatest projector ever
too much head    space    
a lot of nothing
it makes it a lot more interesting
i think it was okay in the video cause
what she was saying and stuff like that
fair enough but I don't agree
lost in this big sea of wall
you're totally forgiven
no questions
power of a well-placed microphone
fantastic
the beans!
alright
you guys are the wrong audience cause you all know each other's stories
good feedback
movin' on, okay
very frustrating
and now.....surfing! woohoo!!!!
30 loooooong minutes, it's a nightmare!
7 minutes
3 minutes
it's a 10th
there's something fascinating about listening to people…you can do it yourself later
bolinas, del mar, sometimes surface, livermore, ocean beach
......riding the waves…....man….....it's the best feeling
you're walking on water you know? that feeling…….i love the ocean
i love the water, after you get that perfect wave you just feel accomplished
that feeling…..is awesome
surfing, it's all about having fun..
you surf once, and….you know?
if you're a surfer, you have a love for the ocean
my, my grandpa always loved the beach, we would go there at two in the morning and just….
my grandpa died and he asked to be cremated, he wanted his ashes to go in the ocean, so we took his ashes out to the ocean
I remember walking out to the ocean with my dad, we threw his ashes into the ༇wind༅ above the ocean, and we looked down….
we want to get the pain!! and the sorrow! because we're vultures you know? we just zoom in to get his expression
little bit weird
i do, i like it
it's black and white
it's just a surfer, it's not movin', it's there…it's not always the same
sort of echoey
…the ocean, and so i remember my dad taking the….
too much archival? too much? not long enough? both.
there was sort of a disconnect at times
her story, you have to cut
when she says "CAT" i want to see a CAT, when she says "FIRETRUCK" i want to see a FIRETRUCK!!! i was like, okay, i  just went to school…
and now this?
or you see a woman that looks like a cat
it's hard, it's complicated, it's not given
so they just kind of ended
you guys im trying to help them
oh okay
hey you know what no no no you know what don't take any of this personally just be like oh okay
he's got a funny manner of speech
any thing else?
arlo says no
"it would not go well"
what IS the really great ending?
amazing feeling one can have…..
you feel like you own the ocean, like it's heaven on earth
this technique it's called killing your babies…i love that
uh what
he says "uh no no no this is a 3 minute film"
sad but true
we all get attached to things, we don't want to cut them out
just play with it, if you decide
we can schloop
can we watch
not exactly…here's..uh okay a quick heads up
oh
for this summer
advanced lab, art advanced films, screen-writing, animation and more
field trip!! i need to contact your teachers
what day? a thursday
almost all day…nine to three
we would leave here
now im gonna erase this

nothing can compare to that one moment of your life when you feel like everything is absolutely perfect. everything is as it should be. you feel like living your life like it should be lived. you feel like taking risks you've never thought of taking before. because before this one moment of your life, you were always too afraid of the outcome of that risk. you were afraid that it would be a mistake.

nothing can compare to the moment where you find out something you thought would be a mistake actually isn't a mistake. sometimes, you have to make a mistake to find out if it is a mistake. even if you know it is already. if you don't take that risk, you may never know what could have been. you'll live your entire life wondering if you had taken that one risk, maybe everything would be how you want it to be.

if you don't taste the stale cereal, you'll never know if it really is stale.

tell the person you love that you love them. don't be afraid of rejection. for all you know, they love you just the same and are too afraid that you won't accept them for who they are to tell you how they feel.

turn in that college application. maybe your grades aren't the best in the world. so what? don't be afraid of rejection. maybe you will get accepted to that college anyway, because they see how much you commit.

go to the job interview. put on your best suit. your prettiest dress. don't be afraid of rejection. maybe the guy interviewing you has the same personality as you. maybe they like the same kinds of things you do. maybe you're perfect for this job.

ask god for forgiveness. maybe in your mind, what you did is completely unacceptable and can not be forgiven. don't be afraid of rejection. god loves you for who you are, and accepts the fact that you made a mistake. but he knows it's only a mistake. and if you hadn't made that mistake, you wouldn't have asked god for forgiveness, and your relationship with god would not have been as powerful as it is after you have experienced his forgiveness.

or maybe you're not religious. have you tried to understand any sort of religion, or have you just automatically pushed it away because it seems so ridiculous and makes no sense? don't be afraid of rejection. maybe you'll find something you can hold on to. something to believe in. and if not, at least you tried. you put yourself, body and mind, out into the world to experience something completely foreign to you. at least you know for sure how you feel now.

take the risk.
make that mistake.
taste the cereal.

Matt Lauer, former employee of a  big broadcast group.
Isn't facing time behind the walls of prison.
A nice settlement makes some stay quiet.
If they was paid.
Do we see the PEACOCK group interviewing his victims?
Like they were doing the comedian accusers.

A former executive of the EYE network accused and unemployed.
Isn't considered anywhere near going to prison by even his accusers?
Strange justice.
If they pay or have paid they get better treatment of justice to avoid time.
Did we see his network interviewing many upon 6o minutes?

A sitting president taped and recorded as grabbing females by their private parts.
Like a wicked boy does when they have wealth.
Pay them off and later they cry about it seeking attention.
We can't nominate him for honorable mention.
He admitted his guilt on tape.

Now, here come the truth.
A comedian sits behind prison walls held to higher standards than any of the three mention above.
And many males feel he got railroaded.
By women with a little guilt of their own.
Even according to the some the Temple instructor.
What made her take the be quiet settlement?

Heck, we can't come hard upon this infamous soul singer.
His past with youth has been well known.
Some ladies went along blindly.
Some went along as groupies like fans.
And you best believe we not seeking guilt of various white men that rival him.

And all cases isn't decided by courts but by many with public opinions.

Judge not, that you be not judged.
For what you measure anyone against?
You might later be found guilty by public opinions.

Isn't this what decided the case against Jesus?

I'm a little late, so I'll put in my drawer in my night stand a letter I found. Is it a letter? No, it is an invitation to your funeral plans.

As if that is not a smack in my face...WHAM!

You thought I wasn't ever a loyal man because I went away, unplanned. But let me take a stand, for you missed the part where I gave you my hand. I was on a flight one blizzard night. When I get off, my rental car was towed because the company said I owed more for how many miles I put on it. See, the car and I were on a trip to gather your family for you, but you didn't believe me. I stayed in a hotel with them, missing you. Their phone connections were off, too and all I had was the TV in that hotel room. To pass the time of course was my only intention, but when I saw our precious 2 story house on the breaking news, I saw that a fire had taken you. I was utterly confused. I pinched myself because I thought I was dreaming. Until, one day, I saw your will claimed we had nothing to do with each other in terms of our engagement. What a scam! I cried and denied the will until I no longer could feel. It's been months and the detectives are still interviewing me. See, your life was important; way more than me. I went to visit and kiss what was left of the fence. I pleaded with hopelessness, "We want you back!"

Suicide letter found.

It reads:

"Winter grows dead leaves, and the trees are morbidly idle. Our nights grew earlier, and our fights were a given. So I bet you'll view it on the news that house number 652 blew away this winter day. What was my defeat? We were a mismatch, that you knew. You were a backstab, I took it through and through. You were half snatched when I was into you. I never wanted you to be this fool that drools over the fun little boys do. I put you on this pedestal, blind to know the rest of you. I was frozen into your atmosphere of departure, thawed to my agony. Why did you ever leave?"

Spoiler alert.  The original poem is followed by the solution.


"Why, Mr. Holmes! You've got my telegram!"
Lestrade stepped forth and offered out his hand
"My dear Lestrade, I've come from Evesham
I trust your case is anything but bland!"

"It's ****** Mr Holmes, a Chinese urn
Was used to bash Lord Edgeware here tonight
I'm interviewing everyone to learn
Their whereabouts from six o clock till eight!"

"Indeed Lestrade, your methods are replete
With great technique, so I'll bid you good day!"
"But Holmes! The case we have is incomplete
Please won't you stay and help without delay?"

"My dear Lestrade, your killer's still inside
I'm sure you'd know whodunnit if you tried!"

Who killed Lord Edgeware?



SOLUTION


"Why, Mr. Holmes! You've got my Telegram!"
Lestrade stepped forth and offered out his Hand
"My dear Lestrade, I've come from Evesham
I trust your case is anything but Bland!"

"It's ****** Mr Holmes, a Chinese Urn
Was used to bash Lord Edgeware here Tonight
I'm interviewing everyone to Learn
Their whereabouts from six o clock till Eight!"

"Indeed Lestrade, your methods are Replete
With great technique, so I'll bid you good Day!"
"But Holmes! The case we have is Incomplete
Please won't you stay and help without Delay?"

"My dear Lestrade, your killer's still Inside
I'm sure you'd know whodunnit if you Tried!"

The first letter of the last word on each line spells out:

THE-BUTLER-DID-IT

*(Can't believe no one guessed at the butler!)

You shape in a drape with bright disease
Claws sharp , Dixie fried , everything plus
Focus your audio gin mill cowboy
Hanging paper while interviewing your
brains , no place to jungle up
Know your groceries lead sled
Until you noodle it out keep it
Mason-Dixon line
It's all off the cob .


Bass drum knuckles - one who loudly over shadows anyone else , a bully .

A shape in a drape - well dressed

Bright disease - to know too much

Claws sharp - well informed on a variety of subjects

Dixie Fried - drunk

Everything plus -  better than good looking

Focus your audio - listen carefully

Gin mill cowboy - a bar regular

Hanging paper - playing with forged checks or documents . Liar .

Interviewing your brains - thinking

Jungle up - having a specific place to live or to be

Know your groceries - being aware , do things well

Lead sled - a classic (older) car

Mason-Dixon line - anywhere out of bounds regarding personal space

Noodle it out - think it through

Off the cob - corny

All the above except title provided by Adrienne Crezo .

.i did write about rooney mara once, didn't i? porcelain beauty... eh... not mandible beauty, the sort of beauty parallel to the Mona Lisa... the sort of beauty that's not mandible like the beauty of a fat *******'s beauty of stretch marks and extra flab... ******* a beached whale... you know... a mechanic's type of fetish for a broken down car engine... rooney mara? ms. porcelain doll beauty? that **** you just paint, you don't **** it... thinking to yourself: if i **** it, will it break?!

                       is... is...
this guy known as
yungblud...
singing the song
california...
dyslexic or something?
no, wait, wait...
he's hiding a lisp?
**** it... i'll just do
the camp *******
of reading the sunday times
style supplement
magazine, interviewing
cheryl tweedy...
****!
who the hell put on
van morrison's
brown eyed girl on?!
   yum-yum-sloppy-seconds
thank-you-very much...
like... a face that allows
you decentralize your
phallus from orientating
it around cow Martian
testicles and...
those floral patterns
in a ******...
   kinda like... joey fisher...
see... i'm under the
polygraph of a liter of
ms. amber...
     who the ****... ha ha...
lies when drunk / drinking?
she's about a liter tall...
(insert snigger)...
and she has a Havana ***
girth...
all that's missing is
pickled onions...
and some raw cherry
tomatoes...
ah ha ha ha!
god... i love reading these
articles...
i love women in general...
not unlike those glory days
when women found
*** easy...
with the likes of...
oh **** me... there's a list,
which implies a colon:
tony curtis...
   shhhhh... it...
  i can only think of tony curtis...
charlton heston doesn't
really fill the bill...
ooh ooh!
  **** jagger!
**** it... let's leave it at two...
in the meantime,
the bite of reality:
        
*****... what you gonna do
when your favorite
sugar-grandpa is kicking
the bucket?
   fix it up with the types
of losers of my generation...
lament of the first world war...
the missing men...
or the Haj route to the Kaaba
of a Saudi Sheik's harem?
me?
   i'm a father every time i ****
off...
   daddy in a tissue...
both father... and genocidal
maniac... i killed more "people"
than ******...
hey...   appetites are appetites...
but it's not as bad as if i was
given the incentive of
a circumcision...
   now... you have your dress of genitals...
and i have my *******'s worth
of tux, white **** and bow-tie...
we're even...

and to even think...
when we were leaving high-school,
i wrote down my ambitions
in the leaving book my two prime
ambitions...
either living a bohemian lifestyle
of an artist in some European
capital (Paris... god, please, Paris),
or becoming a priest...
   well... i'm doing both...
a covert monk...
          there's the god's **** of beer,
there's ms. amber,
the marquees de bourbon...
               and...
                usually a newspaper and
a blank space in pixel paper...

poor boy gotta laugh...
poor girl gotta fish, tame or hunt...
rich boy gotta party...
rich girl gotta dream about
a fling -
some variant of an indie
romantic comedy.

Sorting Goods and Materials
Counselling and Nurturing
Protecting and Enforcing
Serving Others
Liasing and Networking
Teaching and Training
Professional Communicating
Advising and Consulting
Promoting and Selling
Interviewing
Designing
Writing
Performing and Entertainging

EDNA: Please sit down, William. How are you today?

WILLIAM: Fine thank you, Edna. How are you? I read that you were having trouble with your piles.

EDNA: Mind your own ******* business. I'm doing the interviewing here.

WILLIAM: Sorry, Edna.

EDNA: Right, now I hear you are a wife-swapper. How did that start?

WILLIAM: Well, Edna, after I had been married a few years, I got fed up with ******* the same **** and so I started wandering a bit. And my ******* wife found out and broke my leg with a sledge hammer.

EDNA: That must have hurt.

WILLIAM: Of course it ******* well hurt. Not only that, it made ******* impossible for months.

EDNA: [laughing sympathetically] And then?

WILLIAM: Well, once the leg mended, since I still fancied a bit of spare nookie, I suggested to my lady wife, we try some wife-swapping.

EDNA: How did she react to your mentioning swinging?

WILLIAM: Swinging? You mean life my wife's fat *******?

EDNA: I'll ignore that. Get on with the story for Christ's sake. You'll bore my readers' **** off.

WILLIAM: As I was saying, she was quite keen on it. In fact she said 'As long as the geezers involved have a bigger **** than yours, I'm up for it'.

EDNA: Yes, I heard your **** was small, William.

WILLIAM: Anyway, we joined the Maidstone Wife-Swappers Club the next week and have been swapping ever since.

EDNA: Ever since? How long ago was that, then?

WILLIAM: About five years ago, Edna. The MWSC meets once a month, there's usually quite a few couples there and we go most times, especially if we've heard there's some new members, if you get my meaning.

EDNA: Members? Members? That's a good one. You should be on the stand-up circuit with material like that, William.

[Edna and William laugh gaily]

EDNA: Tell me, do you swap with only one couple at these swingers parties? Or do you mingle, so to speak? Roughly many couples have you swapped with, then?

WILLIAM: As a result of our participation in at the Maidstone Wife-Swappers meetings, I have shagged 84 women and Eileen, my dear wife, has been ****** by 245 men.

EDNA: You can go now.

WILLIAM: Pardon me?

EDNA: *******.

*[Interview terminated at this point.]

It gets across the point if the earth really is alive,
If you were interviewing a butterfly,
Standing on the branch of an oak tree.
Now, a butterfly lives only for a few days
But an oak tree can live for over a thousand years.
If you were to ask the butterfly:
Do you precede the object of which your standing is being alive?
The butterfly would say: of course not. I've been here all my life
It is all five days, and the tree hasn't done a thing
Well, it's the same problem with the human being
If you would ask a person
Perhaps one that's lived for a hundred years
They precede the earth, which is really 5 billion years old, is being alive
They would say: of course not. I've been here my whole life, and it hasn't done a thing.
The earth really is alive.

i'm reaching my own very secondary hell...
this reach into... something of a nieche,
something of an echo chamber...
something of a jettison approach with regards
to almost everything...
the voice in my throat is no longer
necessary... some variation of:
this ethics and this "philosophy" is a bypass:
it's not a bypass...
i might just as well be "saying":
i haven't read a single book in my life...
which implies: i haven't read the required reading
either...
but i have read several books and...
among the contemporaries alongside
the shared breath... i have a library that's pretty
much a graveyard...
i'm hardly mastering some: in vogue...
old ideas come crashing down while
all the others are kept intact...
perhaps as honest as one can be...
i have... read... books... by... dead... people...
will alexander... a california poet is still
alive... i seem to have...
stuck to the living in the medium of cinema...
and music...
yet i still managed to balance it out
with a nostalgia for old cinema...
and old music, german, folk...
but i'm shy when it comes to:
darwinism explains everything right, and "wrong"...
i'm just practically tired
of being the turkey being shoved
darwinistic idea-stuffing down my throat...
i'm tired of darwinism...
long ago... a "philosopher" would be someone
who... overcame past mistakes...
or whatever...
one of my prime past mistakes?
taking a ****** relationship with frivolity...
if i wasn't using a ******:
she implored: don't use it...
god knows how she missed the *******
impediment to begin with...
i'll take contraceptive pills...
impregnation... phone-call...
i'm pregnant... well... you should get an abortion...
what were the chances that she moved
from novosibirsk to st. petersburg...
to edinburgh... that she would: settled for
moving to the outskirts of London and live...
with the parents of her would be:
father of the child...
and the supposed father being "merely" a roofer...
oh i've learned my lessons since being aged: 21...
the only honest **** these days
is with prostitutes... who are oh so careful about
contraception...
we would even talk about it...
since 21 and i'm nearing 34?
how many relationships apart from...
casually picking up a thai-surprise in a park etc.
how many? to be ensnared by:
a lasp in judgement with regards:
the ****** doesn't bother me...
the ******* does... but i can't be rid of it...
how many relationships?
0... i was given the moral scare from that
one... ahem... "relaxed" relationship...
pro-life implying: there's no guarantee...
this is already: a dollop of mustard on a spoon
as dessert if you please...
since 21 though?
it was always going to be a safe bet...
prostitutes...
hardly "*** slaves" as...
the women i know would not wish upon
themselves... a lottery of impregnation...
there could have been so many ways she could
have ensnared me...
pristine John i ain't...
but this period of time... nearing 13 ******* years...
wow...
wow... it tells you something...
because this pro-life contra pro-choice "debate"...
via: so while i *******... that's perfectly alright
in terms of: imagining a genocide with you?
because it's only life...
when coupled to a woman's body...
i don't like this pro-life argument...
not when there's "sensibility" concerning:
how far along?
contraception, yes...
but there has to be some time-reference
with regards... both parties can admit "oops"...
i don't see a point of:
i ******* there's no pro-life argument...
because i should be ******* "on a whim"...
since i... oh! this is the male argument...
i ******* into you... therefore you have something
of me... therefore you must have it...
oh... i see...
because i honestly don't get it...
if we made an honest mistake...
and you want to ******* into frivolity...
by all means... i'm no chain no baron and you're
no serf... matter of fact... this same girl is on
her third marriage... if i was her first and
we were engaged and she was 19 and i was 21
and, honestly... if you lived a life back in 2007...
it was ripe with magic...

but since then... that phonecall and: i'm pregnant...
and we were already beside being engaged prior...
and i was like: what?
it's not you're going to move down to London
from Edinburgh just for my looks...
she didn't say: i'll get it aborted...
i said: you should get an abortion...
a pro-choice man... at 21 and this litany of
excuses: mind one more?
to not have had ***... i proved that...
me and about 9 prostitutes proved that...
when there's a clarity of transaction...
there's no worry about contraception...
those precuations are prime...
the heart is a feeble liar when the *** is free...
imagine...
due for ***... but there's no...
"gifts"... there's no liar of the heart to mind
when... i have no excuses?
this happened 13 years ago!
i should have hoped to be freed from this...
"conundrum"...

scatological... william f. buckley jr. interviewing
allen ginsberg... and this word crops up...
it's somehow the covert expression fundamental
marker...
scatological... there's this avant garde of
poetics and how...
when poetry ascribes less images and...
teases philosophy...
that's no fair game...
but when philosophy employs short-cuts
with metaphor or imagery...
then words are no longer skeletons
and juiceless prunes... or whatever is demanded...

but that's the problem:
i only managed to love once...
or... rather... **** to the zenith of my efforts...
and bypass the goldberger skin-leash too...
because it was never about being satisfied...
but about seeing: satifaction...
and this old chestnut will haunt me
to the point where i will no longer be a chanced
ghost solo... but a ghost in a story...
and i don't mind the future...
i already know that i'm standing
a plateau plough moment of... resurrection...

for my time is no more linear than
the experience of gravity...
but... since i'm not falling...
and i'm either standing, walking, or sitting?
then time is not so much linear...
as it is circular...
after all: i am bound to a ******* carousel, aren't i
or aren't we all?
i was expecting circular time long
before people conjured up:
a pioneering linear "ontology" of time...
time moves "forward" without
the confines of history and within
the confines of technology!

after all: who to better the spoon!
the improved staff! a crutch!
the improved horse... a talking donkey!
but again and again:
why should my life be so precious
as to stand outside the circular nature
of time... to stand, alone...
in the prized linear...
from beginning middle and end...
why so?

of course the baggage and: if anyone, notably,
myself, should engage in any further
intimacy - beside the brothels' delights...
no... the money the clarity of transaction...
there are no flowers... no anniversaries...
i can't remember the last time i bothered
to celebrate my own birthday...
i tried that once...

what's pro-choice again, in terms of man
and responsibility or simply not *******?
13 years and that same cautionary tale...
i knew i wasn't going to make the same mistake
and relax myself into love...
because i don't think a woman should
be left barren with a pro-choice conundrum...
it's as if: you have to force the choice upon her...
otherwise it's called a golden ring...
and there's this whole flamboyant procession
in a church and two otherwise estranged families
come together and there's all this and that and
the other and afterwards the *****-licking
starts and blue and pink and a baby several months
later...

oh right... the argument it's a blessing
and that irish luck of a spontaneity should you...
when all the other couples are left
limping because of one wooden leg
among the four that should stand ***** and:
oh gaw on gaw on gaw on gaw on mrs doyle -esque?

imagine telling a woman: you should get an abortion...
because those contraceptive pills didn't
exactly do the magic...
and a ******* is already a discomfort when
you decided to learn from the Donatelos of
the boogie nights movie set that
peeling it back... for the aesthetics of a circumcision...
a ****** was the last of my worries...
well that's better than allowing a woman
to make that choice herself...
honest to god and st. patrick the gnostic gnat...

obviously i'm paying the moral consequences
of these words...
was it true is it true... it was a telephone call
and i was already busy trying to...
have to bother not... a chemistry degree is
worth as much as a humanities and this
bilingual status is not really anything
if it's not arabic or... otherwise...

why wouldn't i have made precautions in those
years?
if going to a brothel is a way to escape
the impregnation conundrum?
if for the sake of recreational ***...
*** without consequences... tennis ping-pong ***...
if that's what's being sold...
and not the monogomy quack-**** with
a boquet of moral verbiage...
yes... i made that mistake...
but why would i have a moral authority
over a woman's choice... she ghost jerks-me-off...
we perform genocide of ***** into
tissue... flush down the toilet with
crocodiles and we later baptise ourselves
as dove resurrected coming from the shower
having down the no. 1 no. 2 and no. 3
on the throne of thrones?

did i ask for my phallus to make
it into the ***** shortlist?!
i wouldn't think so either...
i'm no model with either a face or a little richard
for that matter...
perhaps men call it heart-break...
while women should call it...
fried-eggs...

a poultry abortion a day...
keeps the ****-of-cuckoldry away...
at least among professionals there's
never that: oh i like like likey...
let's have ourselves impregnated and then
kumbaya ourselves with: shtrong...

'cause if you like it, then you shoulda put a ring on it...

oh... i would have...
but... how does this contraceptive contract work?
'cause if you like it, then you shoulda
sly impregnate yourself or what the hell
am i talking about?!

ce-no-bite...
go figure...
because no ******* is some day-dream victim
of the feminist movement...
the ones that are killed, probably are...
if you had enough time to talk to any of them
without priest of psychiatrist nagging you...
lying naked... talking about a 15 minute quickie...
talk, lips, kisses of the eyelids...
inversion of sculpting a crude block of clay...
god's plagiarism etc. etc.,
is this even a celebration: oh yes it's a celebration
when two parties know the perils
and have contraception as their prime
concern...
not some loved-up happenstance
teenagers...
because wisdom is what supposedly happens
when you make a mistake aged 16 and
later, live to be 69 and utter some
*******-wanking's worth of a maxim!

and by god everyone who hasn't read
a philosophy book... thinks that philosophy
happens in old age... that philosophy is not
fashionable for the young... or the middle-aged...
how, old age, philosophy...
dementia... "wisdom"... it's also called
the optical illusion... or the detriment of youth...
since? at least a portion of the lessons
of life must be learned...
beside the technical relax of technical details...
the old lessons of life persist...
and these are always archetypical...
the archetype never dies...
that's its most demanding access...
to: if i currently had a 13 year old son
named... Isidore...

what? there was a Peaches Geldoff...
Isidore is an old name...

because what's the difference between
a pro-life man and a pro-choice man?
the pro-choice man sentences himself
for sisyphus with the claim of baggage...
i did not have the required
resources to claim a moral responsibility
for what would eventually become
an onomatopoeia of me talking to it...
that would transcend a more sorry
state that a new-born lamb...
that would learn to wipe its own ***...
that would not choke on peanuts...
that would learn to not be gullible...
not entertain friendship with good faith...
that would... at best...
become this shadow of solitude of its
father's own demise...
but i rather rob a woman of this choice...
that allow her to bask in it...
as it would be her, responsibility to undertake
such a choice...
again: if this irish reasoning stands...
this ****** reasoning stands...
me, tissue, toilet, flush + ******* = genocide!
but a woman oh a woman can
stream it! video it! she's shooting blanks!
so... a lapse... not until...
not until... is a ***-shot pregnancy readied?
how much can i own beside
these stones that i stack to fathom
a shadow and not a morality,
nor an architectural feat to overshadow
mountains using pyramids?!
well... among sand dunes you, you just might
figure out this wild dream,
this wild ambition!

i will still persist in lamenting that:
i own a private library that mostly constitutes
of death-ringers...
it's slyly called a necromancy...
they arrive in my lap as former living:
now ascribed to dead on paper...
and the dead that they are...
recoil from the ashes into the skeletons
of words: and they walk among
the living inside the horde that i am...

and as they roll in their ***** graves
to a dance most stupendous...
their eyes burning and their ears pricked
to attention over a raindrop
bound to savour the disgruntled sea...
in both the magnanimous effort
that pouring a liter of water overshadows
the raindrop... or pouring hot oil
and pork scratchings with onions
into a soup...
balloons perhaps pop! but that well-known
sizzle!

a body with the demand of
two shadows' worth of remark...
whether true, or fictional...
better my choice over her "choice"...
and the consequences?
both the realisation of responsibility
as the nagging curse of shying
away from them...
focused on? the lack of material
conventionality for:
the up-coming, better life...

hmm... learning from the past generation?
they managed to work hard
and sight the Maldives...
i? if i didn't travel solo?
would i have seen Paris?
Stockholm... Moscow and St. Petersburg
are not a given...
but perhaps this one last time:
before i go... to the Faroe Islands, one
day i might... i just might...

what gambit assurance?
the moral high-ground of pro-life...
for a child... that would live...
a life worse off than his father or mother?
the life-in-itself "argument"...
as far as i am concerned...
this verbiage should come to its own
conclusion any minute now...

it's almost strange to have to recount
something that's 13 years old...
lucky me, lucky year...
i'm still not convinced as to why
darwinism can be allowed to explain almost
everything in life these days,
esp. when mingling with sociological "issues"
and how everyone should be readied
for rubric testing their bible knowledge
as their knowledge of either Orwell or Huxley...

"philosophy" once the "love" of "wisdom"...
how does trivia come into all of this?
to have to amass an encyclopedic know-of...
i am, also, a trivia focused spew-recycle-machinery...
darwinism around every corner...
there's no scientific fact the public are exposed
to that doesn't have darwinism at its center...
nothing of scientific popularisation
is ever not about darwinism...

not even Einstein... once upon a time...
it has become so overtly: universally applicable...
in psychology... in...
yawn... if it doesn't have a darwinism patent...
it's either part of the dodo project or
an existentialist cul de sac...
and my god, this momentum...
oh it's certainly not wrong...
but it's always so right: so many times...

come to think of it...
i probably haven't read any books to begin with...
i shouldn't have...
all the ones that i have read...
are never going to be in vogue...
they were in vogue... 50 years ago...
60 years ago...
they're not in vogue now...
they might as well start yelling at me:
pretentious literary ***!
should have abandoned us in high-school!

oh right... there's till the living Knausård...
come to think of it...
who the hell discovered Stendhal in high-school
if it wasn't me?
come to think of it...
i took that ****** bus no. 86 every morning...
and i can only remember seeing myself
read...
back of the bus and that Montgomery boycot?
didn't really help...
the loudest always went to the back
of the bus... took some neo-**** blonde scalps
with them for ***** and screetching licks...
and... just ahead... a silence of reading
Taoist maxims...

nice to know... that i'm still able to write
such explosive spew...
counter inhibited and "thinking"...
this like any other...
mildly exagerrated with a whiskey stew;
rummaging and rummaging
over a brain-pickling!

M. So Mike I hear you've been gone?

MH. Why yes I have!

M. Why the absence?

MH. I just needed some time to clear my head.

M. That should have taken no more than a couple minutes

MH. Ahhh...no, I was gone a couple weeks. I was going to stay out a month but this site is so addictive! I'm sure our listening audience can attest to that!

M. Audience? No ones listening to this...

MH. But you said...

M. Me?

MH. Yes you said when we were talking that I was going to be on the radio.

M. Dude your me...

MH. I know!

M. Your blowing my mind here...Can we just get on with this?

MH. Sure...What I was trying to do was really just find myself.

M. Find yourself...were your lost?

MH. No just needed to try and do away with some of the junk in my life.

M. I'm starting to wonder if I'm you then why is this the first time I'm hearing about it.

MH. That is odd isn't it..

M. Almost as odd as interviewing yourself.

MH. Almost

M. So any good poems written while you were gone?

MH. To tell the truth I couldn't stop writing...If they're any good only time will tell.

M. How do you think the interview is going so far? Am I doing alright? Asking the tough questions?

MH. I think your the best...That's why I only let me interview myself!

M. Speaking of interviews I've got another one scheduled I really need to run...

MH. Really? With who?

M. Oh it's you but you the World Famous Nuclear Physicist!

MH. But I'm not a...

M. Hey...It's what we call in journalism as a lead in...makes them want more.

MH. But I'm...

M. Don't worry, we'll make something up...

MH. We always do...

M. Ain't THAT the truth!

MH. Shall we do it over lunch?

M. Sounds good...you buying?

my back was unpressurized tonight about 3 hours ah, i was about
to type ago. What else, well
just interviewing
myself
about to ask me some questionz. Who is
that person alive somewhere longing to
unshackle themselves / yet keys are within
the thread that it weaves. Yes,
to life, beautifully strengthen one another,
live vicariously and hear it in the thunder.
Bail out of blunderz
ve
all daily wonder of something or another.
Watch
the rain
fall instinctively smoke
rises from desserted dust
laying scorched in the earth
as imaginary beliefs of solutions littering
pollution. Forgiveness the farthest away from our
mind, just strands of dna connected intertwined at
the roots, i am putting on my boot. Think of
correct statements to say that it will alwayz feel, stay
this way. Pause, oxygen circulatez, pattering rain on a roof sounds
like
footsteps marching
unfortunately in battle. The most unjust
cruel
   inhumane
self serving consumer
professional mind controlling false deitiez,
     this war of loss.

I speak to you now, former wife, another time, another place
I don’t know where you are, where you’ve been these forty years
But in that year, that sultry, passioned summer in Japan
twelve months past exchanging wedding bands,
we rode the train in to Tokyo every day
from Nerimaku at the city’s edge,
apartment on that narrow street, floor two, and no A.C.
only a floor fan to blow the steamy air, but
the *** was great, the sleeping not so much
and you in your green forties style patterned dress, mid-length
would often melt my heart,

Remember, if you hear me, that as time to come home neared
we were favored by an Imperial Palace gardens private tour
from a friendly diplomat, how we made the connection I forget
unless you, my dark-eyed twenty four, might remember
I’m not likely to find out, and does it matter?
He proudly showed us small silver waterfalls
catch light over well- placed rocks, the full ferns lush,
and roses and lavender the best of what was left
of manicured flowers, I held your hand,
in this seeming almost the perfect ending

To six weeks of endless interviewing, I was so glad to have you there,
law and grad student couple walking with our grey haired friend,
an austral early evening breeze brought kind relief,
the blessing that can come with late August’s setting sun,
our host pointed to tiny flecks of red and yellow
almost imperceptible on the vast sweet-gums we passed
observing that the Japanese revered the sight-- this time of year
as if anticipation of the coming season were sweeter than the fall itself,
And I have never forgotten that revelation
And I have never forgotten the fleeting smile in your brown eyes
in that long green moment of the western sky.

A news reporter from Dallas interviewing about the new parking spots.
Talks of war and military combat training with men who know a lot.
The sun is shining along the sidewalk in front of the courthouse square.
A lazy day lending hints of spring soon coming is in the air.
The bell in the tower across the street chimes,
telling me i've one more hour before work and i go back inside.

last night i dreamt
a tooth of mine (maxillary canine)
could simply slip in & out of
                                                    place..
of­ten at times of
great personal inconvenience:
interviewing for a job...
making kitchen counter love to a gorgeous new woman (it fell out & down t'ween her *******/O horror!)
during a presentation in ancient architecture on Ghulguleh, Afg.
-- poor Ghulguleh destroyed by Genghis, wreathed in flame!
(truly i come undone/as did that ancient city!)

found myself thinking
"this is no blessing!
what purpose does creating a horrid gap
between incisor & canine serve but to repel?"



when awake it became clear
i shall never understand my own mind.

Me: So Mike, tell us a little bit about yourself...

MH: You should know that...your me.

Me: I know but I'm interviewing you...

MH: Isn't that a bit odd?

Me: Yes but your to lazy and cheap to hire anyone and we both know you'd have to pay someone because no one is that interested in you...
I'm you and I'M not that interested.

MH: You do have a point there!

Me: Okay...shall we start over? Are you ready to dive in deep?

MH: You bet!

Me: If you could be any color you wanted...what color would that be?

MH: Wow! You don't play games! That is deep! Can I get back to you with that?

Me: Sure....but you know me.

MH: Yes I do Mike and that's just one of the many things I admire about you.

Me: Why thank you Mike!

Me: How about, if you were a tree....

MH: Woah....Your blowing my mind here!

Me: How about we start with something simple....Can you remember the first poem you wrote?

MH: Not line for line but I do remember it was in the 7th grade to my first girlfriend...something about her turning around and seeing the boy in love with her...
Of course that boy was me.
I'm sure it also had lines in there about her flaming red hair and massive freckles and who doesn't love those! Her name was Fresca Schmertz....a true beauty!

Me: That's great but could you keep your answers short? We don't want to lose the readers...

MH: Yes

Me: Good...so how long after that did you discover you were an amazingly talented poet (his words, not mine)

MH: Yes

Me: Yes...what.

MH: You asked me to keep my answers short....so I am

Me: But that's not really an answer.

MH: Okay, then maybe

Me: Maybe?!  That doesn't even make any sense! This just isn't going to work!

MH: I think its going great for someone who's talking to them self....

Me: Arghhhh!!!

To be continued?

"Why, Mr. Holmes! You've got my telegram!"
Lestrade stepped forth and offered out his hand
"My dear Lestrade, I've come from Evesham
I trust your case is anything but bland!"

"It's ****** Mr Holmes, a Chinese urn
Was used to bash Lord Edgeware here tonight
I'm interviewing everyone to learn
Their whereabouts from six o clock till eight!"

"Indeed Lestrade, your methods are replete
With great technique, so I'll bid you good day!"
"But Holmes! The case we have is incomplete
Please won't you stay and help without delay?"

"My dear Lestrade, your killer's still inside
I'm sure you'd know whodunnit if you tried!"

The man on TV
was famous for interviewing
famous people on TV
and now he's retired he's being interviewed
on TV
to talk about the famous people
he interviewed when he was on TV
interviewing famous people.

A constant loop rotating
spinning
the centrifugal force
pulling at his face.

A table.
Two chairs,
glasses of ice cold water.

“So what makes you the best of all potential employees?
What makes you stand out from the crowd?”
He need not speak his mocking of me out loud
As he leans back to rest in smirking self-ease.

But who can blame him, in all honesty?
Who could respect my bumbling and fumbling?
Every answer eluded me, with each question came crumbling
Down any confidence I had of interviewing successfully.

I begin in a voice almost inaudible:
“Kind sir, though my interview skills are hardly laudable,
When I'm in my element, I'm pretty nice and friendly...”
He interrupts, “Speak louder, son, we're in a factory!”

My family said list what qualifies me
When asked such questions, list them: 1, 2, 3...
So I take a deep breath, lean forward in my chair
And look straight in his eyes through my emo-cut hair.

“Good sir, I'm dedicated, in early, out late..
Um....yeah, I mean, I'll work no matter my state.
I'm always working for something; I think I'm pretty motivated...
And people tell me I'm smart, like, I'm educated,
Uhm, yeah, all that, and also, I'm organized,
Like I'm really pretty OCD, I line my pencils up by size...”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I've heard this all before,”
He says as before I can think of something after number 4.
He looks at me with his hand ready to dismiss,
But suddenly I discover I've a heart to resist,
And more than resist, a heart to defend,
My person from this man who isn't worth my rear end.

“Before I leave, good sir,
I pray you allow,
One more list of words,
This one about the crowd.”

He rolls his eyes, but says, “Go on.”
And so I begin as though nothing's wrong:

“Sir, I think you might be right,
The crowd is indeed more dedicated than I:
They pursue whatever they see in sight
And they'll stop an nothing, they'll leave you to fry.
I can tell you also they cling more to their motives that I to mine,
But theirs are rooted in the love of money, *** and wine.
My motives, I fear to tell, are more easily given up
Once I recognize my errors and find bitter taste in my cup.
Moreover, I am less educated than the crowd
In matters concerning **** and prison life and crack;
I wonder at the courage my naivete to speak aloud
Or admit to you the great amount of knowledge I lack.
Finally, I'm less organized, to a great degree,
The crowd is much more cunning than me
And they plan out things so much better than I,
What ever will I do if things go awry?”

“Good sir, if this makes me less in your eyes,
Then the job you offer I'd likely despise.
So give me a call, take me or leave me,
But never, never, never dismiss me.”

I once thought that the world was divided between the gifted and the non-gifted. I obviously count myself among the gifted, and why should I not? Do I not possess a superior IQ of 176 and a body worthy of Tier 1 reproduction status? Being born into wealth and position made it only a matter of course that I attended only the most superior of educational facilities, where my vocation as a State Psychiatrist was determined by the Board of Selection at 14. My adolescence was exceptional only in the fact of our Noble Republic's crushing victory when I was 16. I knew little of our Great Enemy's designs or dogma, imbued rather with the glorious teachings of the Ministry of Education and the need for constant vigilance against the corrupting influence of those deemed non-gifted. My blissful ignorance of the Enemy would soon change however, at my first official posting in our province's Mental and Behavioral Correction Compound. My duties for the duration of the year long post consisted or interviewing certain Counter-Revolutionaries, deemed necessary for posterity of course, and for the good of the unborn children of our State's Glorious Future. The twelve undesirables under my charge, six male, four female, and one pre-pubescent child of each gender, were to be disposed of as a matter of precaution upon the conclusion of my study. The preliminary timetable of cataloguing was ten months from inception to disposal with another two for editing and compiling the data. I cannot honestly say I welcomed the assignment, seeing it only as a test, my inception into the apparatus of the State, a mere stepping stone at best. My subjects did not even exist as people like you or me, rather effigies of a decadent past. Subjects had no names, simply numbers and faces. How can I be blamed for what transpired, for my ignorance, when all of them had ceased to be human, even to themselves?

Day 1 - Preliminary with No. 613774-1

Begin Transcript:

"Hello No. 613774-1, my name is Dr. Williams. I will be conducting a study of you and your fellow subjects over the next ten months at the behest of our Noble Republic. It is in your best interests to answer my questions fully and without reservation. This is being recorded for our State's benefit and that of Holy Father Science, so do please be polite. Shall we proceed?"

.....................

"I asked you a question No. 613774-1, it would behoove you to respond in a timely fashion."

"I have a name Herr Doctor. I would like to be addressed by it."

"You will not be disrespectful during these sessions No. 613774-1, it is inappropriate. Nor do I enjoyed having my title abused."

"I am being respectful, possibly even polite. The term Herr is one of respect in a language known as German, and since this entire setting is so very Kafka-esque, I find it quite applicable to you, Herr Doctor. And ironic, as Kafka isn't known to you. "

"Regardless, I must insist that you address me as Doctor or Dr. Williams."

"And I insist that I be addressed by my real name rather than a number assigned to me. Until then I fear I must continue to address you as such, Herr Doctor."

(Door opening)

"Guard, bring No. 613774-2. This session is concluded."
"Yes Sir."

"Good day Herr Doctor. I enjoyed our chat. Do be nice to No. 613774-2 please. She is my wife."

(Scuffling, a thump, door slamming)

End Transcript

I live with a roommate who doesn't understand the word space
This roommate is at my work
It follows me to my friend's house
It hovers over me at family get together's
It sleeps with me in bed and accompanies me in the shower
I have named it Annoying because that is what it is
The other day Annoying followed me to a job interview
During the interview Annoying had me so nervous
I was physically shaking and the man interviewing me
would not stop looking at me funny
I was so embarrassed
When I left the interview I walked to the bowling alley
to meet up with my mom and grandma
As I watched my grandma bowl
Annoying sat next to me telling me in my ear how everyone at the bowling alley
was judging me and thinking I was a loser
After bowling the three of us went out to lunch
Seeing all of those people in the restaurant made me want to throw up
It took everything in me to swallow what was coming up
I did it so fast that the swallowing hurt
but I did not want to worry mom and grandma
so I put on a smile and pretended that I was okay
Try hanging out with your friends at a party
Your favorite song is playing
You want to dance
Everyone wants to say hello and give you a hug but
you can't hug anyone because Annoying won't let you
Instead Annoying punches you so hard in the stomach
you have to run to the bathroom to throw up
You're so humiliated and upset
but there is nothing you can do because Annoying is not a person
Anxiety has no face

The interviewer, who was white,
asked the indigenous man, who had dark brown skin,
What was most important in life to them.
'Them' - as if the man and his people were any different
than the interviewer and his.

This was after the man had shown them
(the interviewer and the cameraman)
his entire village - the homes,
where the women forage for food
and how the men hunt for meat.

The man knew what the interviewer was really asking.
Yet he also knew that the interviewer already knew
the answer to his own question - even if he had hidden it from himself,
even if he had no faith and trust
in his own culture’s answer to the question.
Still, the interviewer knew the answer for himself.
And the man knew also,
like everyone who is being filmed and interviewed,
that when someone asks you for your very essence,
it is never only a passing request.
They mean to do something with it at some point.
You see, the indigenous man doesn’t go around
interviewing white people.
He is living his life.

So, when the interviewer asked this question,
“What is most important in life to them?”
A shadow of remembrance passed across the man’s eyes.
And smiling, he replied, “Meat!”
The interviewer, looking perplexed, repeated, “Meat?”
and thought, 'Well, that’s a given.'
And in a tone that suggested
what he really wanted to say
was, 'Duh, what else is important here on Earth?'
The man replied, “Yes, with meat we become strong and healthy.
No one will go hungry.
Children will grow strong and run fast.
Women will be strong and there will be less sickness.
Women will give birth to healthy, strong babies.”

The interviewer’s face reflected blank ignorance
as he again repeated, “Meat?”
And with eyes that said, 'Now let it go.
You will not get from me
what your grandfather took from mine',
the man turned to his son and said,
“We will go hunt now.”

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A Blind Visionary One of the greatest visionaries I had the privilege of. Interviewing was Mr,Make sure that everything is nice and quiet by the time you get to bed.you should have a better idea of what kind of coach will bring out the best results for you.4.Brainstorm and list different possible choices. B Step 3 Drop the excuses b Once you make a commitment drop all excuses.If you can help minimize the fallout.This year maybe you ll see more than just the word cheap ralph lauren.accomplishing more bull.but try and take it easy by telling them that you knew it was meant as a joke Now,It is another way you can give and receive love.
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Run not, from racism but to it.
Only through truth can you address it.
Any negative about minorities comes from white writers of media.
Many never known many minorities except when interviewing them.

True or false?
We know one truth whites say more, "I have a black friend".
And most likely one of a slight few.

True or false?

Like the show Cops that hunts crime in poor sector of cities.
Who's amazed?
That some criminal isn't arrested.
It's very apparent that the wealthy side has better lawyers and connection.

True or false?

When you looking at the news?
Notice, who photos they showcase the most?
While crying they trying to get a pix of someone more sick?

True or false?

No which race ride high in pedophiles.
Except that race gets treated with this subject on the down low of main media reports.

Prison treatment building showcase these sick subject very well.
And which race leads within this group.
But  leave it to the news, you wouldn't know it.

And this is truth.

Why?
Why?
Does one race hides behind close criminal files I court?
Afraid of the truth reports.
Cry quick about mental issues concerning their child?
Why?
Because they trying to keep from being embarrassed .

Notice, the most senseless killings.

Run from  truth.
But to it.
It hurts.

Notice, how whites when pushed upon racists ways love to reverse it and say the same about the other groups.
But like the Indians in movies once spoke.

White man law, holds no truth to others.
Who broke their peace treaties the most?
Especially when it came to getting over.

Why?
You never seen whites getting killed by black cops like black males by a majority of white males?
Because many holds truth to not being nothing but themselves.

True or false?

Some put on a weapon and instantly think they are tough.

always a return and as moving forward:
alway in retreat,
  to just quote empedocles:
         will you not end the terrible sounds of your ******?
do you not see that in your thoughtlessness you
are eating one another?
      indeed: what is the ego: if not a second mouth?
can i concede that this might be poorly written?
well: listen to a dialogue on scientology,
         conducted by joe rogan interviewing
a documentary maker louis therou(x), and try
to imagine how ****** writing can become a forest-fire
in society... i'd agree with you that heidegger
was terrible at using language, but then his magnum opus
took me 2 years to read...
                       and if you're interested in
the history of the third *****, outside of content,
it would be better for you to read the context of a hopeful
university professor than, say: reading the mein kampf.
          just saying... i'd **** out the politics of the zeitgeist
and look a bit deeper into the affairs...
    or how germany degenerated, what, given the treaty
of versailles?
                          how desperate people had to become
to later turn into: a volk of beethoven, schubert, schumann...
and the dr. satans of their days that numbered
  a span a 6 years.
                              i abhor psychology, i really have
not competent theory in this realm of learning, i'm sure
there is a competent cohort in some stratum of society
that could explain: no soul (psyche)... so these theories
better than i could. yet back to the greeks...
            psyche                  and narcissus -
a sound marriage?
                                  given these times... yes...
in that much needed allegory...
              originally it was narcissus and echo -
                                             but those days are seemingly
over: there is no longer talk of psyche and cupid -
             the suicide rates of teenagers?!
                         i have no need to treat the ego as a concept
that becomes a tulip, a rose and a field of lavender
  with freud, or c. g. jung... i need not these mental
stratas, these levels of codification:
accordingly with empedocles: my ego is just a second
mouth...
               that's it... there's nothing else;
and according to what is "good" quality writing...
             no one cares if ezra pound what he wrote, as if
he was writing in a telegram mode... but they sure as hell
give a **** saying: oh ya ya... t. s. elliot: fan-*******-tastic!
     even though ezra was the editor of the wasteland...
  so is "good" writing merely something pop,
and therefore simple? appealing?
                         to me: good writing is difficult;
      no one cares whether kraszewski is good,
                      most find him a bore, as a historian they
prefer to ref. pavel jasienica... why?
                   the former outpoured 30 books... the latter two...
and both wrote about the same time period of
the rise and fall of the polish-lithuanian commonwealth...
i'm all for intricacy, i don't like neat properly folded
napkin talk...
                       there's no need to stand for manners
and etiquette in general in writing... *** is never neat:
it's sloppy...
                                 unless you pay for it, so it then
becomes a contract... which doesn't mean that i sometimes
didn't leave the brothel after an hour and did have
an ******... and the ******* would look at me
with this horror of: huh?
                      jerking off? well: i wouldn't say
24 times a day... that would be pointless...
                            but the cult of the wendols -
which, as you might imagine, is borrowed -
                                       coincides with what happened
two years ago? it might be three or four; this english
politician found it abhorring that a woman was found
breast-feeding in public...    what the ****?
                                       can i have the other ******?
i dare say no one has really concerned themselves with
this realm of sexuality: of a husband competing
                    for the same affection as a baby might -
i'm not sure about the reasons for trying to explore this
very "sensitive" realm... but when a woman films herself
doing sexualised provocations (""?) and posts them online,
in the public sphere of things...
                                     you're thinking: maybe that
"parasite" (because that's how we're born, via the parasitic
route... that's not new... white tadpoles in some juice)
        well... that's the eroticism of the cult of the wendols:
i'm borrowing from cinema to understand something...
           there's this politician having a *****-fit when seeing
a woman breast feed in public...
   and then there's me and: the annoying brat screaming!
a baby screaming!
                            i can, but i don't have to look at the woman
breast-feeding: sure... she's pregnant and she's doing
this upper-body only dance...
                             i have a sheep-belly (socratic term
for bloated from alcohol) - the ****** element disappears
when the baby is ******* on it...
                when she's still pregnant and feeling *****
after walking the ****** Gobi desert for 9 months?
      well... you certainly can't feel guilty doing it
on a regular basis... given the chance that when you
imitate circumcision, the veins enricling that "excess"
could suddenly be ruptured... imagine that...
        death... by pleading out via a throbbing ****.
in the film, the wendols have a torso of a pregnant woman
dangling from their necks...
                  my, that really would be a rare paganism,
what with the original paganism and those *******
statues. (13th warrior... iraqi joins 12 vikings to defeat
the cannibals).

A reporter interviewing
an old lady, who killed her husband
by giving poisoned  milkshake
Interviewer, "don't you feel BAD? When you gave poisoned milkshake to your old husband. "
She replied, "of course, Yess... When he asked one more glass..."

By this, all I mean is
am I paying enough attention?
or more like,
is the attention I am paying enough?
or maybe it's,
are the conclusions drawn from perception correct
and by correct
I mean
are they mine
are they systemic
are they volatile
are they tired
the poet has the strange position
of interviewing their consciousness
sometimes telling it
you are wrong, so far from anything right
and that is after the poem has been written
what goes on before, or during
if I had to say
it'd probably be close to ******
you feel it building
you pay close attention when it starts tingling
warning you of its course
then it is driving
rushing, clarifying, spreading, spilling out
it is you. consuming. enveloping. all.
editing comes next
the fighting with the you that has risen and went
looking for insight in the hardened cotton of *******.