Person of The Day.

The lovely Solomon Burke was a Blues/R&B/Soul/Gospel musician...

His best known and personally my favorites as well include "Cry to Me" and "Everybody Needs Somebody to Love".

Stumbled Upon Poetry.

Where bushes periodically burn, children fear other
children: girls

whose scornings are flint on dry rock
which—don't we know—is all the heart afforded
a certain type: untended, magnifying boys.

oh fickle lens! oh smoke and smoldering beetle!
oh thwarted desire in foothills of brush
and now flame.


CAMILLE DUNGY

Forever Curious.

I have always despised that quote "Curiosity kills the cat" and have always been quite curious and yet still breathing.  I dedicate today to the curious and bestow upon you my favorite quotes about curiousity. Do enjoy!

Wickedness is a myth invented by good people to account for the curious attractiveness of others" -Oscar Wilde

"Judge a man by his questions rather than his answers" -Voltaire 

"It is a miracle curiosity survives formal education" -Albert Einstein 

Curiosity is the very basis of education and if you tell me that curiosity killed the cat, I say the cat died nobly" -Arnold Edinborough

"Curiosity is one of the permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous mind" -Samuel Johnson

"Curosity about life in all aspects, I think, Is still the secret of great creative people" Leo Burnett

"Seize the moment of excited curiosity on any subject to solve your doubts; for if you let is pass, the desire may never return, and you may remain in ignorance" -William Wirt

Hurt to Stir...

New York you are that bitch lover... On a good day you are epic but on a bad day you are simply horrid. You've toughened my exterior and yet raped me of my innocence. My outside is tough as a rock but inside you'll only find mush. Now, I am not certain of the consistency of the mush because it has yet to be determined but Its most definitely soft. For fucks sake I cradle pillows when I sit or sleep now. Left feeling so alone sometimes in a city filled to the brim with people but because they are mostly fair-weather it's hard to get close. But then again its beautiful when two worlds do actually collide.

I mean I can kind of be like the city sometimes so I can't stay cross with it for too long that would make me a hypocrite. Because on a good day I'm definitely a nice glass or three of pinot noir and on a bad day I would be about seven to eight irish car bombs ready to destroy anything in my path. We all have our demons and anyone who says otherwise is living a lie. You can either accept them or push change.

To be continued...

Indian Giver.

the cold ravaged my sleep
and disappointment crept into view

flow of thoughts could not have been timely
as a sure tell silence seemed only fit

you breathe dominance on my neck
but I do not crumble in my state

I found purpose in simple connection
Yet you mock at my gains

And blow smoke in the face of this little kinder 
you once pretended to hold so tender

Short lived and lifeless it was
A sure waste of vibrancy and lace

Abrasive word play was your armor 
But your shield it felt second hand

Hope who was perched on my soul
Had flown away but was quick to return

Because, you see, when she breaks...
She re-fashions the lyrics to "Just Like a Woman"

so my end of the bargain was gingerly met
considering for every action there lives an equal

experience alone at last was a true and beautiful release
providence enough, someone genuine was not far behind 

when I awoke the bed was warmer with no one in it
and a drive home quickly became a reflecting pool 

cordially I concluded that there was no better match
for sniffles the clown, than a wobbly circus waif...

and that I make fucking phenomenal lemonade.

                                                          -me

Uncle Henry.

"You'll come to see that a man learns nothing from winning. The act of losing, however, can elicit great wisdom. Not least of which is, uh… how much more enjoyable it is to win. It's inevitable to lose now and again. The trick is not to make a habit of it."

Winter offers wisdom (and disappointment).

This, my friends, is a flake. And it is the only sort of flake I like... I mean corn flakes are o.k. and well there are the frosted variety. And sometimes I may enjoy an occasional snow flake but I'll take the warmth of the sun any day. Are you reading between the lines yet?

History of the Flake

Parties Passion Pit Falls...

Nothing could have prepared me for the night. Partner in crime and business turning up volume by the rolling of taxi windows. There you were on the table with an apple in your mouth... No, really, there was a fucking dead pig with an apple in it's mouth! Here we were in this industrial barn somewhere between reality and dreams. And then there were moments in time that were damn near nightmareish. The projection of Bob on the wall was trying to tell me I was a big girl now. But, I wasn't having it. I wasn't ready to breathe the verity but I was inhaling alright. The dick book on the frenchies dresser was trying to remind me how you were.
James Dean was there playing with switch blades and doing his best Scarface impression. Betty page was there too she was throwing a fit because they wouldn't let her sing Bobby Mcgee. So I sang it instead... We were dancing children drinking red wine from the bottle while the flashing lights reminded us we were being studied. "You should do music" "You guys will do well" "Thank you may I have some more". And when the shit hit the fan the westerns playing on the wall told me to point and shoot.
So shoot I did though my weapon was my mouth and my ammo it was kisses and song. Three french boys one in evening. Edith Piaf was the lady of the hour she shook me. She consumed me and I sang and I wept. Applause was a true hit or so I had thought. But it didn't move him because he didn't care just as he never has and never will.

Something Quite Fleeting.

I'm so upset with myself. I know I am walking down the wrong path and I've known this for some time now. My lust for life is waining fast. I used to be so passionate about so many things and I used to create. Now I feel like a passenger and a simple consumer. If this is going to be the legacy I leave behind the end will be nigh.

MugiMe.

I'm beginning to believe all I want from life is someone to eat rotten shark meat with.... His name is Örn Elías Guðmundsson otherwise known as "Mugison" an Icelandic god(musician). I discovered his work about week or two ago and it certainly strikes the right chord with me. You must check him out but if I discover you've illegally downloaded his music I might have kill you.