Eight Line Bleed


Everyday messages

Endlessly come

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Just is not done

Cut-purse feelings

Stolen back again

Resist the war

More than a pen


Image: Conner Lee Carey
Face-Meltingly Good Short Fiction Review: May We Shed These Human Bodies
Message of the Day: Psychic Fugue Studio

Bottles up & open

Step left or right

Let no one see you stumble

Instagram perfect life

Triazolam & dextro amphetamine & zolpidem & fluoxetine & nicotine & diacetylmorphine & caffeine & ibuprofen & THC

Band gap sudden springboard

‘allo old boy what’chu need?

Mostly postage, peace, & quiet

Stretch symbols to break & hybridize

Stop to flourish, 4 days, then stop, wilt & rot once more

Rapid cycles of effervescence

Try not to speak too softly not too loud

Not to lie down not make yourself a bullseye…

Knots and Spiderwebs


In the heart of the dialogue
Exits were found but not yet followed
The time was Nation, and the place was the Last Outer Outpost
Flooding the streets the pickets
Notching up wounds inflicted were the Forces
The end of the chapter came too soon
And all dissolved into chaos
Let us see what can be done…
Councils were established
Defensive protocols for those who could
The distribution of needles was disrupted
The end of the gloaming retreated into silence instead of crickets
In your sex, remark on how suddenly things have changed
Allow all to be heard and risen
Chaotic proposals
Etheric bliss
None call it what it is;
But all know –
The microphone went where it needed to be
The levers were applied to move the Earth
Tensile strength, be damned
Chaotic students will finally graduate
All is well, and all is well, and all shall be well
Remote interactions fluff up the semantic drift engine
Let be, let be, let be, let do
Still the heart, and come to unity
Be unlike the the sound of Ocean waves
Timorously, you think on your death
But it is naught to be feared
Buy Postcards Only one design now, but soon enough there will be hundreds.
Card Texts from my 1000 postcard activism/poetry project
My Ebooks on Amazon. Coming soon to many other outlets (via Bookbaby when my KDP Select contract runs out) and paper (via probably CreateSpace)
Website my cards are building awareness of
Collection of sustainability links from University of Louisville


you sir are definitely not brrr!. also free brrr!! and brrr! it is ‘base’ not ‘bases’

Tremendous differences,


Heroes are figuring into this
Scriggle all the things!!
Site traffic surging
Several methods, including postcards
No donors, though…
Serious enterprise
Having fun ; much work
I have other things I ought to do;
Like homework
See all the sites!!
Get Soundcloud upload done
Sign Up! Savetheoxygen.org mailing list…
No site yet
Send mail to proprietor@psychicfuguestudio.net
Demolition of Doom…
Erection of Hope!!
Raise awareness…
Word of mouth
Sidewalk chalk
Build blogs
Get following
Have fun & enjoy
Buy postcards
[Need to fix Zazzle upload problem! Argh! What happened!]
Tremendous differences,Immutable changes ;
Turn down the thermostat, turn out lights
Millions of small differences
Buy less waste less (yes I already am, but mainly lack of money)
I don’t need much
Happy in my office all day
One page is enough
Book Samples:

Categories of things sift into conspiracies
Everything is a symbol of something else
http://bit.ly/1Klzoyz #synapticsyntactic

Your lines are all in disorder
Your hopes are all unreal
Your life is lived in statistics
4.5 Stars on Amazon #poetry

(Near) Complete list of projects and media online by me:
1000 Postcard Project: http://bit.ly/1PBwQxZ
micropoetry http://twitter.com/tribalephemeral
$1 a month perks http://patreon.com/lostinmist
Nifty web art + words project: http://bit.ly/1RPkhFG
Book sample: http://bit.ly/1RNLB73
Book: http://amzn.to/1Klzoyz “Ziggomatic Keys” #poetry
For the audiophile: http://bit.ly/1RNLxnS
Book: http://amzn.to/1Osm1R2 “The Driftwood of Our Live Washed Up on Some Foreign Shore” #poetry

Change of Course: One Major Insight

It has come to my attention that continuing to post a lot of material to this blog will interfere with my career goals, in several ways. One, there is the time. Two, there is the inability to use previously published material in most(?) literary journals/magazines. On the other hand, it is nice to have my stuff out there and being read and liked. But I have other necessary career goals, too, like finding a paying job, starting, completing, and going live with a website for a friend (also paying), improving my web design skills and portfolio, getting an A+  certification and perhaps other certs, writing more carefully written and less repetitive poetry, and doing sites and development for louisvillepoetry.net and louisvilleliteracy.net (and trying to sell louisvilleventurefund.com).

So. I will be posting much less poetry, though perhaps more other stuff. I may stop posting poetry altogether, as if it is good enough for me to put out there for 314 (pi!) people to see, perhaps I should consider submitting it to a literary journal, since, unlike contests, they don’t charge reading fees, and I can’t write an unlimited number of awesome poems to submit to so many journals. I have recently found the ways to do this, the traditional way to break into the literary world (which can happen even without a degree thankfully; but I AM going back to finish my degree in liberal studies, which is not what I started in, either time. But I graduate in one semester). As follows:
Ultimate guide to getting published in literary magazines
Top 50 Literary Magazines
These have really showed me what I need to do to begin to build a career and audience, instead of all the shortcuts and cut corners and internet jiggery pokery I’ve been trying. Also, you should submit not only to the top fifty but to smaller magazines that are more of a ‘fit’ for you (less competition, but potentially no money. but you get a credential and may connect to the audience more). It will be time consuming to find what is perhaps a good fit for me, and I have not begun yet. And some of these things still require snail mail (cuts down on the slush pile, I imagine).
All that said, my first book is still available on Amazon as a kindle file: The Driftwood of Our Lives Washed Up on Some Foreign Shore, and if it actually started selling, I might release another that way.
And I will pursue Patreon for a while My Still Rough Pitch Page and you don’t have to give the $7 per month that it is auto filled with. That level has a special reward, which is subject to change. All donors will get free electronic files of Unreal Demonoids and the Tale of We the Many or something like that I’m not sure if I changed the wording of the title, when polishing is finished, which I would be more inclined to do if I had at least one donor, but I suppose since I’m offering it as a reward, I should get on it so people can get it right away. One more reason I can’t blog much anymore.
And I may set other goals on Patreon, such as a goal for 250 print-on-demand copies of a manuscript, like the one I submitted to the Tupelo Press Sunken Garden chapbook contest. The monthly donations I have my Patreon account set up for (not a per ‘thing’ payment, as I think that might charge people every time I post there) can be canceled anytime, and with people who do charge per ‘thing’ you can set a limit on how much you spend on each of them each month.
Also there will be patron only posts, if things begin to go right.

And I hate to add to my competition, but I came across this thing on twitter today, a poetry contest with no reading fee, from Amazon:
Amazon Little a Poetry Contest

So. I have to apply to some jobs (what hopeless drudgery) and do some code for Mack today (what interesting drudgery!) and have a lot of work ahead of me preparing to begin submitting to magazines. And possibly clearing a bunch of stuff off this blog so I can submit it (no one will know it was out there before, muahahaha. I think).
There will be less poetry here but there will be some non-poetry. And I suppose I’ll keep you posted on my progress on this venture.

In closing, a poem from this morning (not a facebook poem, a paper poem) (which was preceded by some freewriting, which I have not done much at all in a long time):

One Major Insight
The check is in the mail
The dividends you will reap
All the plays of the poetry
And now metamorphosing into work
No more shortcuts
Look for smaller literary magazines, too
2 hrs looking for a job
2 hrs working for Mack
4 hrs looking into literary magazines
And selecting pieces to send
Or more
20 minutes clearing email
Take your pills
All the coffee you need
Remember to eat
And shop for food
Day 1 no cigarettes
And I am free
A little too early, still
To look for girls
But we’ll see what happens

~:-:-:-:~ title goes here ~:-:-:-:~

Wordless, tapped out, feeling pointless. What motivates us to write? When does it become merely a duty? Just a ploy to gain views? How do we keep on when feeling unpoetic? Perhaps, in this case switching to prose. Reflections on life today or what have you… or something else, whatever.

Feeling semi-pointless at the moment. It’s strange how all the disciplines, all the meditation what have you, I always come back to this feeling of pointless eventually. Perhaps even worse when I am actually hitting my targets. That lasts a few days, and then it loses it’s flair. Am I addicted to the feeling of improving from disastrous tumbles? Where does this idea come from? Why does small success burn rapidly out the fires of interest leaving me to tear off jaws agape and salivating for something pointless and self-defeating?

Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?

What purpose is there to these idle wanerings? Do they make any real impact on the world other than me? Do they help preserve my sanity? Will they be used one day in a character assassination, or perhaps make me some money instead?¬† The answers of the spirits are invariably either, ‘the point is to keep on writing’, or ‘you have failed to listen to our advices on these other matters, and that is why you feel pointless’. Well spirits, I am trying. Throw me a frickin’ bone here. A comet eclipse lightning bolt to set me straight or something. Where are these goons taking me, and why? What of the pythons you sent and all those other visual effects?

Am I supposed to convert that into something? Why does it always dissolve when I sit down to attempt it?

Things are, nevertheless in motion, and I imagine that I will be making something more happen in this little life of mine fairly soon here. Maybe I need medication. Maybe I need modern life to be less alienating. whatever. We’re working on it.

On a side note I have started 2 other blogs but been blocked as to how to go about my inaugural real posts to them. Perhaps I should do something like this. The obstacle seems to be partly perfectionism, since the other two are on topics I actually know something about, unlike poetry. And they are somewhat scientific too, so there is the added pressure to systematize, cite, construct arguments, etcetera. Perhaps that is the wrong approach. Meanwhile I weigh the possible pro- and con- sequences of deanonymizing this and the other two for purposes of networking and promotion of other works… hmmm. Is Prosequences a word? Ah, no. Didn’t think so. Perhaps we should do something about that.

PS That felt nice. but will it stick?