New Primary Blog

My primary blog is moving from Verses of my Destruction to Spindle, Thread, Loom, Stitch, Trim ( until further notice). On this blog I will be doing at least one re-write (2 paper writings) plus editing as I type for each post instead of throwing the first pass up. I hope the results are appreciated. I will most likely be renovating some posts from my other blogs (also temerityofoptimism and firsttopicsindrugs.wordpress etc) to go up there as well. I hope the results are appreciated. I will be casting an eye more towards commercial publishing so things may not remain on the blogs for long. Some posts may continue to accrue at Verses of my Destruction, or may not. I don’t know. I guess any first passes that I wish to publish as is might. Verses of my Destruction will not disappear, although things may eventually begin to disappear from it.┬áThere is one teaser post up so far.

Pointless thoughts on the exploding world

They’re saying ‘put out the lights’
when they get people incapacitated in Iraq and Syria
Am I deluded?
Is the march to war insane?
When they have enough manpower its worse than ‘put out the lights’
People of Hong Kong Stand bravely for something CENTCOM will never give
as quarantine is debated in texas (and enorced)
Turn out the lights
Turn out the light when you leave, by the way
longer lines leading to destruction
breadlines waterlines unemploymentlines
mentalhealthlines cancerlines afraidtodielines
so many lines lines everywhere
lining up the incapable
but we have you the capable
and you the powerful
and between you you deal or do not with us
and between you you kill us or do not
but since world war two few times have we simply
‘put out the lights’
(now it is necessary to declaim that i do not know of such things
with captive soldiers or with mentally ill
only with people refusing to ‘convert’
but what difference is their)
and sadly i find myself on the side of war
how can this have come?
the defense of the weaker is all i can think
and if i believed without doubts right or wrong
that i could believe what i hear
i would breathe for war easier
but i do not
its terribly quiet in here
out there it is quiet
way way way over there it appears not

ebola exponential poem

Our response to existential emergencies
As a species remains weak
We cannot fathom that the end may be imminent
Not in our bones
Leaves something to be desired
We know what it took in World War II
But when the enemy is a miniscule virus
What is to be done?
We are so distracted and media numbed
Or invested in the status quo
Something just won’t add up
But what?
Oh, Mama, could this really be the end?
I know I’m schizophrenic and delusional
But I must insist. It’s real this time.
Even if not for us
For Africa it’s real, pandemic
And if the whole of Africa is down in flames
How far behind are the rest of us?
It’s time, time for the titanic effort
We mobilized without the government for Katrina
This time I’m insisting the government come along, too
I suppose we could just let the victims rot in the open
That should stop transmission
At the cost of the masks coming off civilization
Which might be a good thing, on balance
The masks coming off thing
Not the bodies in the streets

ebola exponential

npr had a story on how present models of the ebola outbreak are showing exponential expansion. so if there are 10000 cases now (estimates range up to 25000) there will be around 40000 by this time in november and 2.96 million by this time in may. if the closing window of opportunity is to be taken, it will soon need a mobilization on or above the scale of an invasion of europe. we may want to move it tomorrow instead of waiting for may. fortunately, as this will not require any advanced weapons systems, it will be cheap by comparison to iraq. I’m going to write some stuff now, while i still have time before civilization collapses

Mage’s Orders of a Night

One full moon unheralded
A crow arrived carrying
The malicious royal mage’s
Unpublicized views
In one claw
A cease and desist order
In the other
An extensive purge list
But was the recipient
The intended persona?

Mage’s Orders of a Knight

One full moon unheralded
A crow arrived carrying
The malicious royal mage’s
Unpublicized views
In one claw
A cease and desist order
In the other
An extensive purge list
But was the recipient
The intended persona?

Microphone – Recorder

Itching to stick a microphone into those neighboring tables

Pick up their interesting conversation

Not participate

Just listen

Sneak peek nosey prying eyes

Will I fall into a k-hole in public?


But how often must I ask myself this?

You may remain

A lonely man desitres connection

Craves being able to hear the next table

Break it anywhere

The poem, I mean, not the table

The shape of things is uncomfortable

Shaping into schizophrenia

Come to the other side

The mythos of a living ayahuasca tradition

Come to a side where monotheism and war are dispensed with

Done, over

Not gonna happen

Straighten your vowles, uproot your sin

Come with us, the light and the voice are bright

Triple Sevens

Triple sevens three times one morning
Lasiks correction, paranoid schizophreia
Oft times we see phantoms
Serial hexes of the unquiet mind
Messages from God made material, reading
Seeing too much in things, symbolic consciousness
Symbolic, apropos of nothing
Ringing ears suggesting eternal life

Brushes and Book

Maybe if you want to make a book
Based around those drawings
You should be looking at them every day
Instead of every few months
As you cart them foolishly around
Imagining your ex roommate will turn up
And steal/destroy them out of spite
Though all my paint brushes are still gone