May 22. “A lot of you cared, just not enough.” ― Jay Asher

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  • Ruin the World

    It seems to me:
    India is trying to catch China
    China is trying to catch the United States
    The United States is trying to catch its own tail.
    Why worry about global warming?
    So far, this global warming thing has been pretty anti-climatic.
    I mean, have you personally seen polar bears washing up on the beach?
    No?
    I didn't think so.
    Monsanto, Walmart, Exxon and all others the likes of you
    Let's ruin the world.
    Why not?
    I want the American Dream
    a big house, a lot of stuff, and a gun to protect it.
    Kill it
    Fuck it
    The news on TV - wars and terrorism
    They don't believe in the same things as you and me.
    Support the troops - Are you shitting me?
    Capitalism - growth for the sake of growth is the philosophy of the cancer cell.
    Go Wall Street go!
    Aren't they a bunch of responsible individuals?
    Raping the bank accounts of whoever so they can make their billions.

    We want to "good ol' days" back!
    I remember in college when my friend Bill Finance swallowed five handfuls Taster's Choice freeze-dried before taking a final exams and puking 15 minutes later.
    I remember when Jerry Magnuson chugged a bottle of ketchup with a shot of vodka in it
    I remember when Bill Nally drank the bong water
    I remember the thrill of coming as soon as I got it in.
    We want to return to the glory days muscle cars
    We want to go back to Mayberry
    But we can't
    It's time to rip out that rear view mirror
    and concentrate on the road ahead
    But why look ahead?
    Why fix this mess?
    After all, the 21st century is a lie.
    It's only a date on the Gregorian calendar.
    2000 years after the birth of Jesus
    It takes faith....
    Bald old men wearing red beanies and dresses blowing white smoke
    for 1.5 billion followers
    ...And in the other corner.... wearing beards and praying five times a day,
    with white turbans, with enough intelligence to build a bomb
    and still believing in 72 virgins in heaven!
    Fucking stupid men!
    People today...
    with enough intelligence putting a man on the moon 44 years ago, now contemplating going to Mars
    People with enough intelligence to clone an sheep and call it Dolly
    Astrophysicists and cosmologists theorize the beginning of the universe, quantum mechanics and string theory.

    But people need to believe in something....
    believe in something more than their car's airbags
    We want to believe in this timeless omnipresent invisible being.
    Someone or Something we can identify with.
    Someone or Something close to but greater than us.
    We want to believe in our own eternity.

    We can't face up to the facts.
    Meanwhile, this place is getting more fucked up each day.

    East Beach

    A 360-degree blue sky beach day
    Not a cloud or trouble to be found
    The sun high and hot
    Soaking into her bronze-tanned body
    "You still look fabulous in a bikini," I said
    My sincere compliment was returned with her beaming smile.

    We walked lightly across the hot sand
    Towards the restless water's edge
    Gazing out at endless tide
    Hearing to the sounds of the crashing waves
    Taking in the unique smell of the sea
    Some seagulls squawked and circled about

    She carried the blanket
    I manned the heavy cooler
    We made our way down to the cool wet sand
    There were countless smooth stones
    and shells of all kinds to examine
    The waves lapped our toes

    Turing left, we walked along the beach
    Spying a point in distance
    Sometimes eyeing each other
    "Keep going," I said.
    Occasionally looking back at our footprints
    Observing how far we've come together

    Finally, we reached a secluded spot of our choice
    Far away from the bright-colored beach umbrellas, beach chairs, noisy kids, and blaring radios.
    We were now as alone as we could be on a beach day
    We knew what we were there to do --
    Or at least I knew what I wanted.
    By this time we were already hot and sweaty

    Spreading out the blanket created the mood
    Like being swept away on a deserted island
    We settled in on our oasis
    All of your senses are heightened at the beach
    The sense of sight, touch and smell.
    Everything tastes better - anticipation rising

    I love it wet,
    Sweet, juicy
    A nice pink color
    A little sticky
    Eat and wash your face at the same time
    Watermelon is amazing

    New Love

    When I first saw you
    I couldn't take my eyes off of you.
    You shined, behind the glass
    untouchable
    unreachable
    So far off....
    I felt like a barefoot desert wanderer
    afraid of mirages,
    I gazed upon you
    my oasis,
    I watched you from afar
    staring at your beauty and style
    I had to hold you - to have you
    Vowing to do whatever it took.
    Dreaming of being inside you
    Having you would be worth any effort
    You - beyond my current means
    I pushed on - you were my quest
    Building up my courage to one day approach you
    But to have you, it would take overtime
    I was like a mountain climber - unstoppable
    Who's obsession is to reach the peak

    And, I remember that night
    The night I took you home for the very first time
    Your touch, your smooth skin
    I loved your smell, the way your tongue felt
    Finally the time came
    the way you loosened and tightened

    Oh, how I love my new shoes.

    If you're happy and you know it....

    Fear lies, she lays down to face another fearful untruth
    She doesn’t love him
    She tells herself this
    Daily, while crying and begging him not to leave.
    The curtains twitch on the opposite side of the street
    The neighbours aren’t nosy
    They tell themselves this
    As they watch beady eyed the man opposite leave
    Again and again, like an awful refrain in a song that all hate
    Somewhere over the rainbow…

    He loves her, he really does, passionately, definitely
    He has love
    He tells himself this
    As he reaches into his hidden pocket for the money for the whore
    She loves her job, loves her customers, loves what she does
    She works happily
    She tells herself this
    As the bruises settle and the penicillin clears the rash
    It’s the cash
    Somewhere over the rainbow…

    god is good, god is life the priest weeps with purity
    as he drinks the blood
    He tells god this
    and pisses over the innocence of children
    A lifetime of guilt, raped by a higher power
    Not a higher self
    Wishing to be someone else
    He can’t watch children's TV anymore
    The church roof needs fixing
    Somewhere over the rainbow…
    Telling ourselves things we do not believe.

    Arm


    A
    rm
    the
    world
    Blow
    it up.
    We are
    going
    to die
    anyway,
    But probably
    not
    tomorrow.

    Wolf

    He was a wolf man, howling at his glorious reflection
    Refusing to bow, confused at the rejection
    He suffered because he ate hearts and livers, raw and coppery
    And the fear filled victims eyes trapped in his animosity
    He began to enjoy being alone, like the bulb hypnotized moth
    His eyes glorious and amazed, his mouth a viral, bloody froth
    Then he saw her, calming like moonlight strewn across a lake
    A voice like a bell, her perfume left burning eyes in its wake
    He was sensitive to her, animal sense, he wanted to change
    His preternatural heart beat begging for a life rearranged
    He wanted to enjoy TV dinners, tired of the rawness of flesh
    Wanted every ounce of his freedom crushed, until only she was left
    To collide in him, show pride in him, deride him and be his guide
    To take the beast by its crimson wild heart and unveil a different side
    Of life he’d not yet encountered, where he had a love replacing lust
    Where choices were bestowed and the beast would turn to dust
    Wolf man scribbled his first words, painfully illegible, but so liquid clear
    In blood and guts and the dark ink of the heart, so pure in its fear

    Love me, say you do or at least that you can
    So that the flowers may bloom, fragrant and comforting
    And my sleep will be a dream filled glorious span
    So the dark shadows in the corners will not come creeping

    The necromancer's hand

    I told them the moon would crack
    The crowd growled a hideous laugh
    The sea came home, swallowed them whole
    My turn to laugh, the moon and its crack laughed back
    The dead have tales to tell
    But no mouths to speak
    The ears of the weak
    Miss the words of the past
    As the waves crash upon their heads
    Trapped in Mishima's mask
    Confessing nothing, focused on the task
    Of talking to oneself
    The truth buried on a cheap shelf
    In a cheap room of a poor house
    The dead voices calling someone else
    Unheard, "come to us, the earth's warm"
    Devoid of love as they are devoid of form
    There are no record players in hell
    And everyone wears tracksuits waiting the ringing bell
    "Run boys run! The future is behind you!"
    And they do what dogs do
    Run blindly after the tasteless stick of life
    Forgetting what it was really like
    A child stepping barefooted in shit in the park
    And the dead still moan from their corner dark
    Telling me who they're waiting for.

    You and Me

    Everyone wants
    to into Heaven
    but nobody
    wants to go today
    Everyone wants
    to be Free
    but we can't even get in a drive a car
    without wearing a seat belt
    Freedom
    What you mean?
    Everyone wants to Love
    and be loved
    by someone else
    once in a while
    at least

    NIGHT

    I can’t do this any more. Not even for you. Not even for the McDonald’s Happy Meal you buy me after we have sex every Saturday afternoon. Do you know I only eat the cookies? Do you know that I drop the fries down the holes in the sink? I drop them one by one. Not two by two like Noah’s animals. On their own. Solitary. Lone. Loaning your copy of The Waste Land to anyone who will take it. You tell me to stick to Ovid. I tell you to proof-read Prufrock and draft a new ending for us. You kiss me and still, behind your back, I drop each fry down the sink. When you make love to me you watch your reflection in my dilated pupils. And when you shower I rummage through your sock drawer. Exposing your secrets to the world. Reading the contents of your ark of the covenant. You read to me. From Moby Dick. Always Moby Dick, never Pinocchio or Peter Pan. I try to tell you that I prefer Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. But you hush me. It is your silence. And who am I to break it? I’m not anyone. I am occasionally Emily Dickinson. But the difference is that I can dance on my toes. Life is ‘full as opera'. I think about asking you but it’s late and my toes have gone to sleep between your ankles. In the jade night I can almost believe you love me.

    The Ginkgo of Iriso & Chikozan by Ivy C. Machida

    I.
    Passing by,
    I chanced to espy
    The ever-flowing winding river
    Beside the ancient shrine of Iriso
    I recall my fateful fascination
    As if a spell was cast on me
    By spirits that dwelled therein.
    A voiceless call it was
    To clasp my hands
    As if in inevitable prayer
    To the deities sheltered there -
    And then to grasp
    The dangling rope
    To sound the gong
    Of conclusive stance
    And receive respite from griefs and wants.

    II.
    Passing by,
    Decades on beyond Iriso
    I chanced to espy
    The ever-winding narrowing river
    Beside which a glistening cathedral tree,
    The Ginkgo biloba, blazed its galactic glory
    Shrouding all that once graced the riverbank.
    A sudden call it was
    A great awakening
    As the mind unfurled its unintentional stream
    Of lived moments of frolic and swirling mounds
    Of glorious ginkgo foliage at Chikozan -
    Where once you beckoned me
    To come surrender all
    To the locked charms of touch and thrill --
    A benediction of union and joy fulfill

    Like the fan-shaped leaf,
    A union of twin spheres --
    A brief reminder of life's golden hues as I grieve
    Each passing fall and fallen leaves.

    Blow Yourself Up

    I thought I'd weigh in on suicide bombers as they regularly seem to be in the news. I really don't get all this religious stuff: Christians, Moslems and Jews. God may be great, if you look at Him that way, but religion shouldn't be anything to lose your head over, as many people do.

    Don't get me wrong about suicide bombers, I appreciate their enthusiasm for what they do. Though a short-lived vocation -- a poor career choice. Supposedly at the end of life there is a place called Heaven. Located up there . . . somewhere . . . beyond the visible darkness we see at night -- a place beyond the infinite universe. And if it's that Paradise you believe that you'll go by blowing up market full of people, you are deluding yourself. Believing that Heaven exists is one thing, but really there is really isn't any proof. Another real possibility is all this God stuff could just be a man-made hoax. And as for the 37 virgins promised, virgins may not be great as what they are cracked up to be. I mean, after all, after a suicide bomber explodes he can't take along that shoehorn he put in his vest.

    I've been lost and found, and lost too many times to count. In my case, instead of having a life-goal of someday becoming successful suicide bomber, as a boy, I wanted to become an archer, but was never good. My teacher said "be the the arrow, straight and true." But I was bent. Beside, I felt arrows were just being used. My teacher said, "Be the bow." But I saw bows too bent on their own power. This is more for Olympians, politician and corporate CEOs. Finally. my teacher said, "Face it Joe, you, like the vast majority, are the target. One time, I shot an arrow straight up into the air, it came down so close -- had it come down in my head, I would have been dead. From that time on, I consider myself lucky, not bright.

    I thought I'd weigh in on suicide bombers as they regularly seem to be in the news. We in the West condemn them for blowing themselves up with supposedly the innocent to make their point. Well, maybe there are no saints. Maybe, we are all just sinners here. We all become what is around us. But if I may let me make a plea: "Dear suicide bomber, everyone is brainwashed. Please let us each reach natural death rinse cycle and enjoy our short life. We are all equal in the end.

    I thought I'd weigh in on suicide bombers as they regularly seem to be in the news. Why would God want a suicide bomber as a neighbor? Would you? God maybe forgiving and all but he does have final judgement especially who he wants to live next to. With all the assholes in this world, it would seems that heaven would be a very lonely place.

    Jew Mad?

    Saw an old street, cobbled, Conan Doylish
    Wife talking to cruel man in a hat bigger than my dreams
    Its width unfathomable
    He has a gun, wants to use it
    Feel its heat, like a cock
    Hand jerking
    Gloves on, sweaty rabbit fur
    I never wake up
    This isn't a third grade horror story
    It does not feel like a dream
    The dead smiling
    The street winding a pathway to the dark
    I scream, possibly
    The silence swims, scream swallowed
    Ectoplasm burst
    The pillow unwelcome in its featheriness
    Shoot, fucking shoot
    The wait is killing me
    Like life
    Like life
    Don't like
    Unlike
    Dislike
    Living.

    Unsocially networked - YouTwitFace.com

    I'm up to my neck in social networks
    My face on Facebook
    I Twitter and Tweet like a parakeet
    I have a space on MySpace
    I'm online
    I'm Linked in
    Posting what I had for lunch
    and photos of my cat
    Clicking "Like" for a picture of your dog taking a nap
    So many Facebook friends, it's hard to keep track of
    You poke me
    so I poke back
    LOL and I'm Laugh My Ass Off at poking possibilities

    I'm surfing the World Wide Web
    I'm searching for what matters on the Internet
    browsing with Safari, Firefox and Outlook Express
    Google search, Yahoo, and YouTube too
    Wikipedia, like God, knows everything
    On the Net, I found out Einstein wasn't all that bright
    Because watching porn, time goes by at the speed of light
    But the 5 seconds it takes to wait to "Skip This Ad" feels like eternity
    Now that's Relatively

    How times have changed!
    I used to read books
    I used to do drugs
    Now I'm taking trips on the Internet
    I've farmed in Farmville and fought in Mafia Wars
    I've traveled the world using Google maps
    Instagram - posting photos with bad effects
    Tumblr - standing, I haven't fallen yet
    Pinterest - content that bores me to death
    Bing isn't my thing
    Chrome ain't my home
    And Google Plus somehow just doesn't add up

    I recently read how YouTube, Twitter and Facebook are teaming up
    to create an super-mega social network
    called YouTwitFace
    Awesome!

    Empty Glass

    Oh, whiskey glass
    You ol' bastard,
    Venom poured from a bottle
    Making me remember,
    so as I can forget
    Oh, how I despise the past
    All you do is make me sad

    Oh, whiskey glass
    What the devil must drink
    Coaxing me
    I'm easily persuaded
    "Have another", then another
    A drunken grin morphs my face

    Oh, whiskey glass
    You ol' pal,
    Now liquid gold
    Dazzling in the glass
    and new my best-est friend
    The hour passes, words slur . . .
    thoughts dizzy into slide blur

    Oh, empty whiskey glass
    You heartless prick, you shameless slut
    For again opening a heart's old break
    Again showing her face
    at the bottom of my empty glass
    The way she sometimes appears in my dreams

    A Song Of Saitama by Ivy C. Machida

    To these green hills
    I came - not knowing
    If I would find the thrills
    I left behind - quivering
    I climbed aboard
    And swiftly tied the knot.

    Warm tropical breezes
    From whence I came - trailing
    Across the southern seas
    They bade me ride along - whispering
    My name in soft refrain
    Like blessed cleansing rain.

    To these enchanted hills
    I came and stayed - flaunting
    The distant call so shrill
    That all things depart like summer's passing -
    Alone, I touch the autumn air
    Be that my sweet despair.

    No Fault

    We fell out of Love
    Love's illusion just dimmed
    Flowers wilt without fault
    *
    Hearing something often enough
    Any illusion becomes reality
    In silence, truth is obvious

    Basho's New World

    1
    From table to floor
    Empty beer can falls
    Clank!
    Such a sad song

    2
    Our love fumbled
    around for a while
    The game got messy
    Neither team played well
    like on Monday night football

    Differences

    1
    While on my feet
    I know everything
    Sitting zazen, I know nothing

    2
    The difference between
    life and death is breath
    Let's enjoy food and drink together

    Drunk

    Whiskey
    I raise my glass
    "Cheers!"
    To all my days past . . .
    when my worldly wants were never enough.
    Shopping malls, shiny cars, even mowing the lawn
    chasing after. . .
    like a dog chasing its tail
    I raise my glass to days past . . .
    when believing in delusions seemed real

    Saké
    Saké cup empties
    til I hear Buddha laughing
    I wish a good death

    Peas and Corn (and other silly vegetables)

    1
    cut out their eyes
    peel off their skin
    boil them in oil
    fry or grill them
    They remain silent
    They offer no struggle
    They cannot scream
    baked
    crushed
    smashed
    mashed
    hashed
    Violence potatoes

    2
    Standing erect
    succulent
    an aphrodisiac
    green with envy
    herbaceous and perennial
    a vegetable lily
    You are my little asparagus

    3
    Who likes green peas?
    No me
    Yucky little things rolling about on my plate
    Pushed around
    Bullied by fork and spoon
    Peas are like the homeless -
    unwanted
    insignificant
    Even the name "pea" -
    Generally, something you don't want in your mouth

    But look at the bright side
    at the small pile of can corn on your plate
    bright, sweet, yellow kernels
    like gold coins on your plate
    Everyone loves corn
    The Silver Queen of vegetables
    Mouth watering
    corn on the cob
    With butter...
    and the places some people put it
    I've seen it on the internet

    But perhaps it's time to explore
    the rich vegetables helping the poor
    Mixing them together
    a redistribution of the Garden of Eden's wealth
    Mixing them -
    'til together as one
    A recipe for how much better the world might be.
    Gold and Green
    Green and Gold
    Tumbling
    Orgy on our plate
    Peas and corn
    We'll call it PORN

    Stuck on Orwell

    I wonder if Orwell is rolling over in his grave
    Though I still do picture his body rotting away
    much like our world of today.
    Oh my, we're in such a state of decay!
    I don't believe in resurrection,
    I don't believe in karma,
    I don't believe in reincarnation
    I don't believe in heaven or hell
    I believe, for better or worse,
    we have only one life
    No one dies twice
    Nor do I imagine Orwell's desire to revisit Earth
    Amid predictions of our planet's global warming hell
    Rather, I picture him in his coffin
    his skeletal arms pounding away
    Orwell voicing these words (or perhaps even with his pen)
    "I told you so!"
    "Nineteen Eighty-four," written in 1948, actually not that long ago
    the tyranny of The Party and its totalitarian ideology
    So here we are in 2013
    Somewhere in time
    between Orwell's nightmare - the orthodoxy of not thinking
    Where groupthink replaces thoughtcrime
    THE REVOLUTION IS NO REVOLUTION
    and a dreamer's dream

    I wonder if Orwell is rolling over in his grave
    Lunacy is the last rebellion
    And only the lunatic has the freedom to say
    2 + 2 = 4
    Not 5

    Hotel Sweet

    Arm-in-arm, past brass numbered doors
    The hallway's path
    Our shameless steps to our private safe harbor
    A quick double-check of our room card key
    No, this hotel ain't the Ritz
    Walls of unknown thickness
    Green light signal
    Our room door unlocks with a click
    Flick on the nearest light switch
    Voilá
    The bed
    Mad kisses
    Undoing snaps
    Sliding my hand under her dress
    Our bodies melt
    We came here for the bed

    Mind

    Some people are so sensitive
    They hurt
    but they couldn't hurt a fly.

    While there are others out there
    Psychopaths
    void of feeling, void of heart

    We range from the frailest of flowers
    to the devil himself
    It all takes place in the brain

    It is all Mind

    Mayan 2012 end of the world

    The world has ended
    but I woke
    to the same dream

    Two

    Perfume
    Sweet perfume
    What I would do to return
    to the time of an innocent kiss.

    Moon
    Cold skin, clear night
    Full moon watching
    No confusion

    Yellow Tape

    I throw my hands up
    I surrender
    to the onslaught of more bad news
    A drive-by
    A homicide
    A serial killer
    Another mass murder

    How proud we once felt
    History at the Old North Church
    Famous words "One if by land, and two if by sea"
    Patriotic defense an impending attack
    The Second Amendment
    Now it could be the deranged individual
    living down the street

    The world is a crime scene.
    Just put yellow tape around it
    We all share some of the blame

    Bare Minimum

    Naked truth dies within
    with every commercial on tv
    with every gallon of gas pumped.
    with every dollar spent
    Naked truth dies within
    with every lie told
    with every word
    written
    or
    spoken

    Meditate

    While listening to a sad song

    1
    See what happens
    when you follow your eyes
    You may think
    all boys are the same.
    Maybe someday you will realize

    I thought you loved me.
    So much for that trust.
    But I'm not about to cry about it -
    that you went away.

    Still when she left
    she took pieces of me with her.

    2
    There is only fleeting hope
    in this sea of sadness
    among lies disguised
    offer faint respite.

    3
    The only time is now
    before vanishing into the future
    Away from this land of desire
    where time and place will mean nothing --
    nothing at all

    4
    Sometimes a small difference,
    makes all the difference.
    Kisses are very different.

    Fading . . .
    This sad song is over.

    Japanese Onsen

    Well, it's a marvelous night for an onsen
    With the stars up above in the December sky
    A fabulous night for awareness
    Naked 'neath the cover of stars
    and dim lights

    Soaking naked
    reflecting on how primitive we really are
    I don't dare look about,
    but who can help it
    Men comparing our natural-born equipment

    Behind the men's blue norin
    Nude dudes letting it all hang out
    From my eyes, men's bodies aren't very pretty
    Boney and hairy
    Fact is, the older you get, the worse you look

    Men are so vulnerable when they are naked
    Weak and shy,
    dicks shrinking,
    testicles swinging

    The onsen exposes a male cover-up
    Men covering their private parts with a midget's towel
    But give a man some pants and a gun
    suddenly he grows a giant
    and behaves like Rambo

    I'm careful so as not to slip and fall
    Stepping on smooth wet rocks with my bare feet
    I slip slowly into the water
    until I’m neck deep

    Totally immersed
    Ah....am I one with the nature?
    Am I Japanese?
    This water is so fucking hot,
    it's scalding me

    Steam rises
    My mind drifts
    I try not to think
    but that doesn't stop me
    I bet, no I guarantee
    I'm not the first man wanting to see--
    wanting to peek over the wall
    at female breasts and pubic hair

    But it is dark
    I probably couldn't catch a glimpse
    Besides if I get caught, someone might bitch
    Certainly think bad of this gaijin.

    So I'm left here on my blue side
    my stranger male onsen buddies and I
    Yet quite alone, to soak my body, my mind
    drifting up like the rising steam.
    Wandering my tiny universe

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