And then there's these, the torrid after waves,
Languid flourishings of frolicking affections,
and hopeful benedictions.

And then there's these , those bitter after tastes,
lingering like silence in the stringless keys.
Fluttering in stairwells and over the corner posts,
light time fading fast.

But, I'm young yet, say again and again and again,
until you're too old.
You're blood's ran thin, and the once ravishing rants are leaving
without word or wound to sorrowful soul.

There is no reason for speech, the subjective vomiting of nouns and verbs, colored with the adjectives and adverbs. Ther is no reason for words , stabbing deep in deeping wounds, scabbing over and peeling to scars. There is no reason for soothing speech, soft and buttered murmurings, sickly sweet and choking; stealing air and polluting the atmosphere of sound. The microphone is murdering silence and creating the next endangered species.

It is so easy to talk and to write about the idea of obedience, but it is a completely different matter to take those spoken words from the air, and written words from the page and turn them into real life application; to turn concept and into a life style, a life choice, a devoted life of servitude. ( that was a run-on yeeha) Pious men speak of obedience and devotion, but holy men barely utter these words. Holy men need not speak of such things because their lives and very existence display more volumes on the subject than words on a page could ever justify.

Do we really need this medication to tell us we're all right?
It's like fornication only without the fun that's found in the beginning phases,
only that which you hate, you, you , you

Be warned, I very well could be losing my mind...

Let's be trees

What They Really Mean

Politically calculated Centrism
how liberals screw the poor

Social welfare policy reform
ugh -what are we going to do with these poor people

Census Data
useless detritus compiled to successfully, or unsuccessfully prove a point

Ducking sniper fire in Bosnia
Traveling around in a first-class jet with Sinbad

I Just cannot seem to unfurrow my brow no matter how hard I try.

Sometimes I make mistakes
In an ideal world I would learn from those mistakes
But in the real world, they come back to haunt me
When I say sometimes, I mean most times

Thunder rolled in with a mighty shout, and there was the lighting to illuminate the pathway of thunders clap. The thunder made us jump, and the lightning made us blind for lack of electric power, and the light bulbs which need said power. Eight hours, and these eight hours were spent in the dark, but not because it was a difficult problem to fix, we were just unlucky to living in a town populated by minorities and blue collar labor workers.
" Your geographic location is not a priority."
I asked what that meant but no satisfactory response could be produced.
" Is it because it's not an affluent town? Is it because my neighborhood is primarily minority and blue collar?" I asked that question with the sincerest of tone.
" Sir are you trying to make a joke? "
" No I'm not trying to make a joke, I'm asking an honest question."
" Sir your area is just not a priority."
" click"
I hung up on the Connecticut light and power man. This night has been still yet another evidence to the social inequality in this great nation of ours. Hooray!!!

Narcissistic

In the silence of this room,
All hopes go unspoken in silent agreement.
This is the beginning of the unknown phases.
In the silence of this room
All words are spoken with nary a sound.
Ideas are eyes searching for contact.
In the silence of this room,
Sound floats like a ghost.
An echo then repeat.
In the silence of this room,
It's louder than ever before, than anywhere else.

So you pull your flesh over your blood shot eyes and try to sleep awhile. And all so you can keep a smile for an hour after waking.

Sorry to disappoint, sorry I didn't point the path your disfigured feet ought to romp.

Can we still shake hands and say we're friends?
Probably no, definitely no.

We annoy each other like those well dressed, two by two cyclists in every American neighborhood.

Pedal pedal, stop, then knock.
Doors never open, but they never stop.

When the world's over
where will you be?
Drinking drunk
a lover between your knees?

When the world's over
where will you go?
Wandering wilderness
a broken compass to tell the way?

When the world's over
what will you do?
quiting quietly
a gun between your teeth?

When the world's over
how will it end?
Furious and firey
or quietly quietly?

You sparked she said
You sparkled said I
You ran she said
You run said I
You were she said
You are said I
You go she said
You're gone said I

For three days now, three twenty-four hours periods, I have been laying about with a sickness in my body. When I say Laying about I don't really mean that cause I've been working too, never a day of rest for the ill. But, there is Zicam, and Robitussin, which when you remove the "ussin," leaves you with "Robit" which after taking enough of the medicine leaves one feeling pretty much like a "Robit!!" Ach! The aches, the sore throat, the runny nose, is this all human things? I thought I was becoming a Robit, Malfunction!!! Must evacuate!! Biohazard contagious.

I've sat where you sit, berating the house guests in empty apartments, all alone.
I've been where you are, living life with a glass in hand, half emptied.
In and then out again.
I've waited for moments to realize themselves for what there are,
But before this could happen they died, and gave birth to a new.
I've rambled words that made no sense, and maybe a few that did.
But all in all to say that I know where you stand, and I've stood there too,
Sometimes I stand there still.
You and me we are
Friendly alcohol abuse
Missing teeth
Empty cigarette packs
Flat tires
The last drop
Lazy bad habits
Lonely old folk.
True to say we're two the same, and the sun will show you soon.

Thursday.
Here's what I did today.
Evacuate the bladder.
Brush the teeth.
Pull on the levis.
Lace up the boots.
Place glasses on face.
Ink on the arm, Tyler was there, he got ink too.
Thoughts and questions.
No real concrete answers.
No heavy boots today ( cara thats a reference for you).
Dan was sick. Bad wings for the boy.
Junk shop browsing.
Lots and lots of photos.
Film developed, I liked a few.
Celebrate today.

You've got the show of hands, a cigarette placed between clever lips. I've got pretense, a loaded gun in hand. Together we're sly, and not just a little too terrible. Angels fear to dare us to combat. Shoe laces and levis, love and tears. Follow these where they might wander, we'll find a better bed of wonder. No show of hands, no cigarette placed between clever lips. No pretense, no loaded gun in hand. Naked

These the thoughts that ramble through this head of mine, they are of the haunting variety, or the terrifyingly familiar, comfortable confusion. Move or just move on, which is the better? Could there be both?

I've got an answer for you dear, and it sounds like this: " I don't know."


The pencil scratches possible words to form possible letters, which are mailed to the garbage pile instantly. Postage paid, return to sender, So goes the story of the last three. The pile of legal pad yellow is growing at my feet, So too are the questions of future considerations, and past obligations. Am I obligated anymore? Is that even worth contemplating? You tell me.


Put on my pants, lace up my boots, and grab a coat, it's time for a midnight stroll and the silence that this suburban waste land affords when the neighbors have laid to rest their eyes and mouths. Here I go...

tr040607

tr040607
Originally uploaded by courtneycanfijn

What we want is a chocolate covered sweet, jelly center Jesus.
Nothing to suffer or work for.
sweet from the first bite to the last.
But the mold won't take the shape that we want,
and if we dare to try we find the shape is our own.

Beautiful clarification, but of the difficult sort. It's like trying to bring resolve to the debate over the attractive or unattractive merits of Mary-Louise Parker. Beautiful clarification comes at the cost of my pride, comes coupled with non ecstatic suffering. Does the cost over weigh the benefits? Probably not, but I'm a human after all, and I can't seem to put on the goggles of reason, and see through the fog of suffering to the sunlit meadow of beautiful clarification, peace of mind. Never the less, I stare this beautiful clarification straight in the eyes, and I ask, "What do you want of me?" Knowing full well what is required. It seems that inane questions are how humans cope with knowing that the truth is really the last thing they really ever wanted.
Beautiful clarification, are you to be mine or shall I love you with my lips but never with my hands? The irony is that if I had beautiful clarification as mine, then I wouldn't have to wonder wonder wonder over what to do with beautiful clarification.
At least I'm not jaundice.




polaroid


st pauls was good


Zooey Deschanel has a lovely voice ( she&him(zooey+mward))


vacuums pick up a multitude of dirts, too bad they couldn't do the same for sin.

It snowed today, it's white, clean.
Everything looks almost right for just this moment.
I tried to capture this moment with photographs in black and white.
The cold seeped through rubber boots and my feet grew cold.
My hands were numb despite the gloves, the cold was sharp.
But it didn't matter, all was quiet and in this moment everything was perfect.
Hey fag! Why don't you come take a picture of us? Come on gay boy.
I'm not gay and those were my unruly neighbors.
The moment was lost, but it didn't matter.
I had captured it in snaps and on film.

Do you believe in Democracy? A government by the people for the people?
I dream of such a thing.
There is no such thing
What with electoral colleges and superdelegates
We've lost our right to choice...




... Well ok, maybe not yet, but soon we will and these superdelegates are the gateway






please Anyone who reads this please click on the superdelegates link. We need to stay informed!! much love

I've no song inside my head. Somebody give me a melody...
...please.


restless night, barely sleeping,
unshaven, dirty hair, barely awake now.
Hastily shower, did I wash my 2000 parts?
Where are my keys? Where are my socks?
Has anyone seen my soul?
nine hours of work
nine hours of servitude
nine hours that could be spent better...

The day at a glimpse

The bodies were seen, some with skin some with none, some with muscles some with none, all were dead. In the exhibit, I was hungry, I thought of chicken, and then I wanted to eat chicken. I was told there must be something wrong with me when the sight of a cross sectioned real human body ( dead of course) makes me think of eating.

Ten minutes time turned the bedroom from a pigstye to a cozy den. It's the den of a cowardly lion, lurking and waiting for courage to come walking through the door and offer itself.


Lack of hearing lead to hurting of feelings. It's a talent of mine, do you have any such regrettable talents? I have many, I think that I am stronger than some, but weaker than most.



The nature of my increasingly hectic life, leaves me wishing to live in a cabin surrounded by woods. Silence, the music of rain and wind. I could scream if I wanted to. I could whisper too.


Cloverfield was a waste of 1hr and 20 min.



Eagle vs. Shark was silly



Renaissance was a rather great film, sorta like the church....

I set my alarm for 6am

Do justice
Love mercy
Walk humbly with your God

And then a liar came
with sincere eyes
steady hands
and wagging tongue.
Truth to say
any whichever way
that which are those things
you'd like most to hear



paint your face white



drink some wine




pour some coffee past the cup and onto the floor


eat some seeds




enjoy water and air

I killed you last night,
dream state
wishing reality
your life unfurled on the floor
and I smiled
scarlet pens etching blood lines
and I watched
and I twirled
and I woke up

Yay! This carbon pile has been a living carbon pile for 15 years as of today! I was born and now I walk around and sometimes say words to other carbon piles. As far as welcome to the world celebration days go, this was one of my better ones. Low key, there were no parties or cakes and candles, no oodles of living carbon piles wishing me a "happy birthday" ( why don't we wish folk happy days every day?), no hoopla or hulla baloo, just me and my key board, a guitar and a friend too.


Give flowers to your mom on your birthday, she did all the work



watch crime wave ( Canadian movie from 1985) at least once in your life cycle


Listen to Boards of Canada at least once a day


drink tea whenever possible




hang your sunglasses on your wall



take showers

One night voyages over land, Glastonbury CT- Providence RI- Manchester NH! Manchester NH held Hardcore shows with Life in Your Way and todd mackey. Providence held Ren Church, Pscott and the family that I miss more than most things that I've ever left in life. Gut wrenchingly convicting sermons, face to face with scott, face to face with the Almighty. Brunch at Julians with Tyler, Dan and crew. Now for the rest of a few days...

I love stories, I'd like to think that everyone and everything has a story lying right below the e of the skin. Something that lets you know, who he, she, or it is, some thing that gives meaning to existence .I think what gets me down is that I'm going to be 25 in about one week, and yet I don't feel as though I have a story, I feel as though there is not story behind me. I'm told that I'm young and have alot of life yet to live, but still I feel as though I should have something more to me than what is there. I think what I mean to say is that I know there is something under the surface of my skin, but I'm not sure what that is exactly.

Day three and the fevers still goes. I do not, will not go to the doctor, this will pass in time, all things do. Smoking has passed from me, so this will pass from me in due time as well. Netflix is a gem, guitars, effects pedals and amps are as well. Will I get my tattoo? I'm not sure, but I'd sure like to. Video journals were recorded, cameras we browsed on internet shopping sites. Work end early and I came home to rest, to write, and to draw. I'm wearing hats and lifting weights again. Surrender is the only choice on the menu, and yet I'm having trouble choosing, but I think its starting to look like a good option. He is love!

My dreams have been very specific. Pastors with crab legs instead of human ones, freaking out when babies cry, and trying to eat the squealing little ones. Girls in love with boys who have mooseheads, but only cause they feel they must me. Hiding in back rooms from the demonic baseball bat eating ushers. Finding safety with Folk I barely know in the waking life, but seem to know very well in the dream life. I just woke up from that. It could be the fact that my estranged imagination is venturing back into my skull, or it could be the fever that is still coursing through my tissues.

Listen to the National!!!

Take mucinex!!

Love Advil!!


Read a Book!!!



Say wizard at least three times aday !!!

My day in a nutshell




Cleaning rooms,
sleeping during days
Catching fevers
texting plans
breaking down in the nervous way
Telling painful brutal truths
Crying with no tears
swimming in confusion
bashing heads on pillows
flipping through the calendars
Canceling plans
hanging hats and glasses
wishing for a brighter day
Calling out to the FATHER
Eating rice
Watching Juno
Reading Iraq Journals 2003
Screaming out to the FATHER

I realize that I might have spoken out of pure frustration when last we spoke, the frustration made my words unclear, and for that I apologize.
When I say stop protesting, I don't mean stop caring, I mean stop carrying around posters and marching and going to rallies, Approx seven years of protesting and the war ain't over kids! The politicians in office aren't listening, and the ones on the campaign trail are only telling you what you want to hear. (Santa's real, right Mr. Obama? )
Don't stop caring! If anything I would encourage you to spread the peace and hope of our Father with everyone. Write a letter to a soldier over seas, we all know at least one, let him or her know that you are praying for his or her safety, let that fellow human being know that you care. Take a trip, go over seas yourself, spend some time simply loving the victims of this terrible event in history, or help fund some one else on a similar form of trip. Find a way to personally support and help the victims of this terrible event in history and them encourage those that you know to do the same thing. Most importantly, Pray! Pray!Pray! After all He is the Prince of Peace.


I do apologize for alienating more than one of you with the last bit of thought vomit that I left on this blog, but please kids, lets not waste our time with t-shirts and rallies, but let's look for real and tangible ways to make a difference, to bring peace and hope to this ball we live on.

It's futile!! Stop protesting. Sorry to say, but the war isn't gonna end just because a bunch of objectors march around in a circle or sit around holding hands with megaphones. Sure it's a bad thing, but it's not going to end because we want it to. Please find a better way to spend your time. I know it's sad, the war is unjust and Ive got friends over there just as I'm sure some of you do, but what can we expect to do? Do you honestly think the politicians and businessmen who are running this war will listen to those of us who want it to end? nope! Sure let people know where you stand, that's great, but you won't be able to stop the wheel, so stop trying!!!!!!

Good day good day. Two false wakings, then up in time for lunch. Church with Cooney, as well as coffee, ocean state joblot, and stud art ( beedazzling for badasses).
Remorse is my word for tonight, not for anything for today, but for the things that I've had to say farewell to in the past year, for the fact that this is not the first time that I've said farewell to this thing, this person, this human. Perhaps not remorse, perhaps sorrow. Sorrow for actions that repeat themselves. Sorrow for good intentions and weak movements. Sorrow for being confused about the same thing over and over again, even though the answer is clear as day! Sleep is good. So are freshly cleaned sweat pants, and a new white v-neck t-shirt, All for sleeping of course, sweatpants never leave the house!!! Never never! Put on the levis and go to work, thats in the morning!

This is my fifth blog!



I can't remember usernames or passwords for the others.



My, I'm forgetful!
Am I getting old yet?
23 days and I'll be older yet!

48 hours.... .... tic.... ..... toc....

Give me a damn smoke already!!! There are no visual benefits to report, 48 hours is not enough time to know. I'm Not There, was moving! Kate Blanchet for president! Holy lady man, music playing, Bob Dylan look alike!
Take a shower, Dim the lights, put on fresh jam jams, grab a book, hit the shuffle on the itunes, read a page or too, and then its:
zzzzzzzzzzzzz.......................................................................

And now responsibility has caught up with me. Good bye bloody marys and gourmet breakfast. Time well spent, but now work is on the menu. Time pour some coffees and crank out some stories, strum a banjo and hum some tunes. Dorothy said it was good to have me back home, and it was good to see her. Tyler was being macho and didn't say much. Father figure has started painting again, I'm excited about what might come of his endeavors, stick with it! Laundry have been done, Dorothy thought laughed at my levi obsession, Dan is worse, Parker doesn't even count.
Too cold for the roof, and too creaky for the porch, I guess I'll nestle down and close my peepers.

Failure! Lack of patience! therefore Juilians was a wash, blue elephant was the mediocre stand in. Sweet senorita! We've got hail, and it hurts the head and hands when it hits. Parker might have died in his sleep, minus the dying part of course. He looks like death, beefeater beefeater you terrible girl you, delicious and cruel! We leave tomorrow, but Dan stays, Parker and I go back to the places from whence we came, and another six months will pass before we three are carousing about town together! I'll be back soon though, it's time to ink up again, before I turn 25!
Ok the levis are on and so are my brown boots, time to see if the hail still hurts, and if I still have trouble walking! Let's go!








This blog is self indulgent!!!! What does that say about me?

2008, we're here, the future is finally here, and I'm already looking for something new. black and white ball found the three of us dancing, ginning and pinning for only God knows what or who. Many unnecessary texts and phone calls were made, I don't even think my phone works anymore. Parker and I walked the half an hour back to angel street manor, Dan stayed on the floor of the ball. Talks of God and girls, and then surrender. Guidance is key but not really what any of us want, seeing as how we're, all three of us, stubborn male men. Humility is growing, but only threw the pain of loss, and we're adjusting as He shows us the way. Sleep will be welcome, and brunch is tomorrow, back to juilians, the mecca of hipsters, and delicious bloody marys! Who's got my levis on for tomorrow?