Archive for the 'Major Boredom' Category

Daughters Of The Soho Riots

Monday, August 31st, 2009

I have your good clothes in the car
So cut your hair so no one knows
I have your dreams and your teeth marks
And all my fingernails are painted

I’m here to take you now

You were right about the end
It didn’t make a difference
Everything I can remember
I remember wrong

How can anybody know
How they got to be this way
You must have known I’d do this someday
Break my arms around the one I love
And be forgiven by the time my lover comes
Break my arms around my love

Break my arms around the one I love
And be forgiven by the time my lover comes
Break my arms around my love

I don’t have any questions
I don’t think it’s gonna rain
You were right about the end
It didn’t make a difference

I’m here to take you now

Out among the missing sons and daughters of the SoHo riots
Out among the missing sons and daughters of the SoHo riots

I’m here to take you now

How can anybody know
how they got to be this way
You must have known I’d do this someday
Break my arms around the one I love
And be forgiven by the time my lover comes
Break my arms around my love

Break my arms around the one I love
And be forgiven by the time my lover comes
Break my arms around my love

Break my arms around the one I love

Make Use Of Your Lives, Boys and Girls….

Saturday, May 30th, 2009

A bold night for my new rock shirt
Expected a burn-hole
Expected the worst
Such shots in the dark I should not risk
I command you to speak to us
And be humble to our works
We have suffered the change again
And guess what they’ve been spreading
So very upsetting
But we’re not forgetting

Pull up and lighten your load

Make use of the bold proposition
Make use the vast fashions
The passion is soon to burn out
Make use of the boring young heroes
Their efforts not wasted
Reward them for what they turn out
Of this we are proud

In spurts of majestical will power
Impractical thinkers design the dream
These beast-like invincible machines
100 jags in the road
Do you casually second the exit?
Are you into the easy way out?

A simple gut reaction is not to be found here
Don’t come around here
Have a look
It’s a Freeway

Make use of the bold proposition
Make use the vast fashions
The passion is soon to burn out
Make use of the boring young heroes
Their efforts not wasted
Reward them for what they turn out
Of this we are proud

Retroactive Insertion

Monday, April 9th, 2007

(Actually being posted on April 18, 2007 -1:18am EDT)

I just noticed that I missed the two year anniversary of me starting this blog.

April 9th, 2005…

The blog has changed a lot, but not as much as I have.

Reading the old shit is almost laughable now…Wow, oh wow are things different now.

I would have more to say, except it’s late and I just wanted to drop this out here to mark the occasion. Hope all is well for all 3 people who might read this… ;)

I’m going to go stand by the window, drink a beer, smoke a cigarette, and think about it. It’s hitting me rather profoundly for some reason…

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Emily

Saturday, November 4th, 2006

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the meadowlark and the chim-choo-ree and the sparrow
set to the sky in a flying spree, for the sport over the pharaoh
a little while later the Pharisees dragged comb through the meadow
do you remember what they called up to you and me, in our window?

there is a rusty light on the pines tonight
sun pouring wine, lord, or marrow
down into the bones of the birches
and the spires of the churches
jutting out from the shadows
the yoke, and the axe, and the old smokestacks and the bale and the barrow
and everything sloped like it was dragged from a rope
in the mouth of the south below

we’ve seen those mountains kneeling, felten and grey
we thought our very hearts would up and melt away
from that snow in the nighttime
just going
and going
and the stirring of wind chimes
in the morning
in the morning
helps me find my way back in
from the place where I have been

and, Emily - I saw you last night by the river
I dreamed you were skipping little stones across the surface of the water
frowning at the angle where they were lost, and slipped under forever,
in a mud-cloud, mica-spangled, like the sky’d been breathing on a mirror

anyhow - I sat by your side, by the water
you taught me the names of the stars overhead that I wrote down in my ledger
though all I knew of the rote universe were those pleiades loosed in december
I promised you I‘d set them to verse so I’d always remember

that the meteorite is a source of the light
and the meteor’s just what we see
and the meteoroid is a stone that’s devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee

and the meteorite’s just what causes the light
and the meteor’s how it’s perceived
and the meteoroid’s a bone thrown from the void that lies quiet in offering to thee

you came and lay a cold compress upon the mess I’m in
threw the window wide and cried; Amen! Amen! Amen!
the whole world - stopped - to hear you hollering
you looked down and saw now what was happening

the lines are fadin’ in my kingdom
(though I have never known the way to border ‘em in)
so the muddy mouths of baboons and sows and the grouse and the horse and the hen
grope at the gate of the looming lake that was once a tidy pen
and the mail is late and the great estates are not lit from within
the talk in town’s becoming downright sickening

in due time we will see the far butte lit by a flare
I’ve seen your bravery, and I will follow you there
and row through the nighttime
gone healthy
gone healthy all of a sudden
in search of the midwife
who could help me
who could help me
help me find my way back in
and there are worries where I’ve been

say, say, say in the lee of the bay; don’t be bothered
leave your troubles here where the tugboats shear the water from the water
flanked by furrows, curling back, like a match held up to a newspaper
Emily, they’ll follow your lead by the letter
and I make this claim, and I’m not ashamed to say I know you better
what they’ve seen is just a beam of your sun that banishes winter

let us go!
though we know it’s a hopeless endeavor
the ties that bind, they are barbed and spined and hold us close forever
though there is nothing would help me come to grips with a sky that is gaping and yawning
there is a song I woke with on my lips as you sailed your great ship towards the morning

come on home, the poppies are all grown knee-deep by now
blossoms all have fallen, and the pollen ruins the plow
peonies nod in the breeze and while they wetly bow,
with hydrocephalitic listlessness ants mop up-a their brow

and everything with wings is restless, aimless, drunk and dour
the butterflies and birds collide at hot, ungodly hours
and my clay-colored motherlessness rangily reclines
come on home, now! all my bones are dolorous with vines

Pa pointed out to me, for the hundredth time tonight
the way the ladle leads to a dirt-red bullet of light
squint skyward and listen
loving him, we move within his borders:
just asterisms in the stars’ set order

we could stand for a century
starin’
with our heads cocked
in the broad daylight at this thing
joy
landlocked
in bodies that don’t keep
dumbstruck with the sweetness of being
till we don’t be
told; take this
and eat this

told; the meteorite is the source of the light
and the meteor’s just what we see
and the meteoroid is a stone that’s devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee

and the meteorite’s just what causes the light
and the meteor’s how it’s perceived
and the meteoroid’s a bone thrown from the void that lies quiet in offering to thee

Sure…

Saturday, September 30th, 2006

…the tournament, lost.

…met a guy named Dave

…Reminded me of stuff I’d rather forget.

…The fall sucks, hard.

…So does remembering it.

…He’s had hard times too

…So haven’t we all?

…George W. Bush is the worst president ever.

Either You Don’t Love Me Or I Don’t Love You

Wednesday, August 9th, 2006
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Lost roads and towns of which nobody’s found the name
All the children drowned and there’s no one around to blame
Lost roads and towns left to wilder in seed and snow
As the sun goes down that’s where I’d like to go

Every time you feel wonderful, baby, I feel bad
Either you don’t love me or I don’t love you, oh yeah
When you remind me of all the good times I feel sad
Either you don’t love me or I don’t love you, oh yeah.

You and me in the waiting room of a disused railroad station
Scavenging for a few antiques, we’ll make a fortune just have patience
If we find an old signal box you can write your dissertation

Every time you feel wonderful, baby, I feel bad
Either you don’t love me or I don’t love you, oh yeah
When you remind me of all the good times I feel sad
Either you don’t love me or I don’t love you, oh yeah.

Another Brilliant Post by The Doorman

Tuesday, June 27th, 2006

Soooo funny…

It may take actually having witnessed such a dance before to really get the humor in it, but if you have somehow not witnessed it, count yourself lucky.

Wisdom of Bob

Thursday, May 11th, 2006

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“I’m gonna tell you what. I’ve been around for 45 years on this planet of ours, and there is nothing more fun than rock and roll and alcohol.

That’s the most fun shit there is. Beyond sex even. So we’re doing what we want to do.

Aren’t you jealous we get to do what the fuck we want to do? You can boo me if you want. I’ll stick my dick in your mouth if you do.

What’s this? It means you need a beer, ok. Just show me his ID and he gets a beer. Alright…alright…What am I, the goddamn bartender? Now I’m a bartender. Alright man, we gotta move along, it’s a festival. Ain’t got time to fucking bullshit. Ok…no…no…bullshit. This is a song off Universal Truths and Cycles called Christian Animation Torch Carriers, yeah.”

-Robert Pollard, Goose Island Festival 2003