Archive for the JL Stories Category

plans askew, more to come…

Posted in afternoon requiem, JL Stories, Opinion, Philosophy, Poetry, thoughtful trips, TWTC, Unanswered Questions with tags , , , , , on October 2, 2011 by Caribbean Fool

greed of the suck-fish

gettin’ bombed watching sunday
untangle the last of her hours,
smoking cigarettes that go down
like water. rainfall outside fights
a rear-guard action keeping the
cloudy sky in place. the only
forward movement is in time.

whomever wanted it badly enough
could feel the electricity; inherent
in swallowed ovoid capsules.
transformational acrobats are all
the rage in this delicate town.
almost nobody watches the slow moving
grass waving in the foot-breeze.
short attention spans virtually
guarantee this misdemeanor attraction
generates moderate success.

by varying account, autonomics rule
the day as it constricts the loose
hours spilled out over the afternoon.
tomorrow is already given over
to a celebration of the old days;
today is the pocket the key must
pass through before being inserted
into the lock. pandoras box will
spring open on its own.

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9 a.m. wakeup call…

Posted in Cigarette, Early Morning Silence, Extreme Spinal Pain, Funny Morning Stories, JL Stories, Laughter, Learning About Life, Poetry with tags , , , , , on September 28, 2011 by Caribbean Fool

sewer-diving

is it cliche to watch a
strange woman dive into a sewer
& rise up with diamond watches
on both wrists? i don’t know
enough to judge the scene
as anything except more of
the ludicrous mixture of
luck, doctor-drugs & realizing
somebody has to win.

besides, they can’t all make you
sick when morning arrives
with kanna colored glasses making
everything appear safe as
sepia; no sharp edges or
sudden turns. bounds of the maze
all go to the same place, just
a more tortured meaning of path.

of course it ends the way it begins.
no respectable artist would
ever make any other choice.

holy shit that’s an ugly hooker…

Posted in Friendship, Ha Ha Funny, Hysterical Romance, JL Stories, Laughter, Opinion, Poetry, TWTC with tags , , , , , , , , on August 29, 2011 by Caribbean Fool

i was gonna ask but didn’t

didn’t take much day-dreaming
to arrive at a suitable explanation
of such sudden desire;
those types are bad credit risks
& walk around with bruised knuckles
without ever knowing why.

still playing a game learned
at the foot of the mountain
under watchful gaze & rotten luck.
i’d say it was sad, but it almost
never is. regardless of the correlations
staring back from a coincidental lion
racing to cash in his meal ticket
by ripping out the throat of
weaker prey, everyone needs a
hobby & we all gotta eat.

back on earth relaxed movements of
momentary possibility surround
copernican predictions about
situational reality. patterns like
this would make mandelbrot blush.
i guess after you see the pin
pulled enough times, you stop asking
why & just get to running.

unfair to blame soft shell turtles
for failing to invent mirrors. at least
naked mole rats have sense enough
to stay blind. then again,
there’s always more under
than over.

——————————————-

Ever seen something & laughed? If not, you should try it. Really soothes the ego & builds confidence.

1220

Posted in Ha Ha Funny, JL Stories, Laughter, Learning About Life, Philosophy, Poetry, TWTC, Unanswered Questions with tags , , , , , on August 11, 2011 by Caribbean Fool

1220

i didn’t wanna see straight
anyway.

another ant wandering over
butcher paper,
lost on the maze, or maybe
my imagination or something
in that vein of logic,
rationalized inebriation after
session’s end; all roads go
in the same few directions &
every last one of ’em
ends in the same place.

i didn’t wanna try too hard
or think too long about
unproven theory of an admixture,
this wasn’t time or money
or questions regarding either.
facets of the equation complicate
all the variables until the
known knowns are known, if
not longer. i’m dizzy
enough as it is.

we shared a few words between myself
until nothing was resolved. hysteric
education in the after-effects of
dynastic change; there used to be
medicine for this kind of thing
but nobody sells it anymore. now-
adays most doctors recommend
continued breathing as a cure.

i couldnt shoot straight.
i didn’t wanna see straight;
lucky for me i never had
to walk a line, least not a
straight one. what does
easy street look like
anyway?

demolition & recovery…

Posted in JL Stories, Learning About Life, Poetry, thoughtful trips with tags , , , , on August 4, 2011 by Caribbean Fool

clear cut leftovers

i need the sensorialist to
drop by & reteach those lessons
on how to duck the alternating
flame of time, future &
past & especially present.
with the phones shut down,
it’s getting difficult to reach
out & touch the right someone;
course membership used to have
its privileges.

lacking instruction in regards
to disintegrated fortunes,
the rebuilding phase can begin.
first step being the easiest
(only for a sense of accomplishment)
& by some manner of luck or
maybe inconsequential coincidence
the adherent sensorialist shows
up with a plan. today he’s
dressed a little like travis bickle
except for a peace sign on his
belt & no mohawk. soon he’ll
talk; for the first few minutes
of silence, he just listens.

marisol stays up late…

Posted in Hysterical Romance, JL Stories, Laughter, Learning About Life, Marisol, pictures i don't know how to show, Poetry, TWTC with tags , , , , , , , on July 24, 2011 by Caribbean Fool

meeting a new friend

someone spoken of,
but never to. i’ve heard
good things about impossible
miracles readily delivered
to me as the man makes his
rounds. we’re all ready to
take a shot.

introductions &
cold drinks all around.
marisol happily redefines
her photography while
a wise man keeps everything
together & talks of the liquid
extract as if we’d reached
the brass ring.
in the grasp of long-
distance vegetation, we’re all
smiling about something else
& trying to talk about
this addition to
human possibility.

marisol’s trimmed pictures
testify to her work same
as empty cups speak ’bout
throaty gulps depriving them
of liquid. smooth haze covers
the afternoon while
marisol keeps a surprise
up her sleeve, peaking out
under the influence of a
faraway root.

someone spoken to after
long waited arrival. this
is new territory in need
of exploration. marisol
takes pictures but none of
us recognize the familiar
surroundings.

indonesia-deliverance
as the psychonauts
gather close
for the next big thing.

——————————–

Sometimes you luck into circumstance. I can think of a lot of ways that might possible happen, but this was amongst the best. Marisol is a dream.

average fella…

Posted in Friendship, Funny Morning Stories, Ha Ha Funny, JL Stories, Laughter, Music, Poetry, thoughtful trips with tags , , , , , , , , on July 14, 2011 by Caribbean Fool

semolina from the heartland

what could be wind or just
6 billion voices condensed
into a breeze swept into
town this morning along with
the sun barely making any effort
to warm the planet on a string.
poets croon about dead trees,
forgetting it’s still summer,
time of growth. i can’t blame
them; they like the metaphor
too much ever to say no. (i
feel much the same about Semolina’s
close cousin.)

i had a minute or two free to
pick off almost healed-scabs
from when i had to prove
a razor was sharp as needed.
now i can breathe into this
morning & see wheat waving
to nobody in particular.

the penny arcade summer made to
last longer in these parts.
thorton & keen at the local joint
telling jokes & singing songs for
the price of a nickel steak,
little white pedro & his friends
on the radio playing games,
typical summer fare. the durum
seeds were planted way back &
we’re two months from harvest.
all of our worries boil down to
phosphorous deficiency. easy
solution to that.

——————————————

You’re welcome Doc. Not that it makes a difference (with nothing lost & all) but I have a really good excuse for disappearing. Damn. I forgot it; I got a mind for shite lately.