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| Signi, with a field mouse snack hanging in a grin. |
This is Signi, Short for
Significant meaning. Or
Signified-at-once. After walking over the lip of the hill I first saw Signi half hidden through some of the waist-high grass. Signi had stared and I gazed back. There was no fear of insight like there may be if you look an unknown biped into the eyes the wrong way say outside of a sandwich shop or near a park. Actually I was surprised at how calmly it felt after perceiving and then taking in what was registered into my site.
Laughter of appreciation came in because I had been thinking of myself as a wolf or coyote-like creature nights before actually howling like a madman into the night skies. Part of it was for self-amusement but the remaining reason was a practice of letting loose from those gripping feelings of feeling not like a citzen but moreso as an unregistered being of illegal thoughts. That happens a bit, so this time I howled frankly howling works a hell of a lot better than some other methods, like internal regression.
The secret of laughter, as I've been hinted at, really is a nurturing way to make light of any situation. So then, maybe those calls attracted Signi shortly soon after. It was my first time seeing a Coyote in person. After a few moments of staring back and then posing for a portrait had Signi scurried off towards a large stone that lays in the woodland and I started off my own direction.
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| Signi/Uncropped photograph |
That was the 5th*. Days have went from the ground land to being a bit more light footed. Feeling as if I may sink into the planet I decided to unite a feather to my hair to allow a feeling of lightheartedness/footedness if possible. If anything, it allows a feeling of being bird-like when winding down steep hills on a bicycle as the sounds of the wind going through the feathers made it just as exciting as when I would place a baseball card near the bike tire to get that 'vroom! sound.' The whistling of fast air feels like a bird is riding beside you.
Vultures and Electric lines.
On the 8th* I went out with a pocket full of half-dead spare batteries, two travel bars, a broken off Cow-Coffee Mug handle in my pocket and sneakers that would eventually collect tar. This time from the railroad ties as days earlier melting roads were the source of stick-soles.
(I wrote this poem relating to road tar:
Roadways are meant to melt and crumble.
It is their natural process.
Each time we fix and repair a road
we are going against their desires.
Roads want to crumble,
it is their true yearning.
If it wasn't, then explain why they smear
and get all over my sneaker bottom.
If a road would speak,
it would say 'let me crumble in peace.'
and stop driving on me that shit hurts.)
It seems malevolent that we create roads, which are meant to be driven upon, while roads themselves claim that it is painful to them.
I was to collect images of the cow coffee mug with several different backdrops and collect footage to edit to some of the soon to be
Grammy Award-winning songs I had finished. To save images and footage for a time when I have a less archaic machine to edit on (posting blogs is nightmarish; I must be a self-sadist or just highly reclusive and apt to tell stories now. Or maybe proving to create and fulfill as much as I can before I expire even if the pain of shoddy equipment causes nerve tensions that may lead to aneurism.)
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| The world is a backdrop for a broken cow coffee handle. |
So I walked past the evil twin dogs who always seem to want to bite my soul from my being.. Barking back at them seldom helps their keeping quiet but keeping quiet seldom helps them keep their quiet, either. Meowing profusely only encourages their hateful barks but entertains me nonetheless.
It was soon that a swoop of Vultures would land on the deck of an electric obelisk. They did much more than serve as the backdrop of a broken cow coffee handle; They posed and danced in the skies and stayed a lengthy duration to my presence much like Signi. If it were the howling the nights before seeing the Coyote, then the feathered feeling of the aires may have encouraged the birds to not merely scatter in the sight of a biped in sneakers (to distrust me as being some sort of threat.)
14th*
It was all going amazingly until I stepped on that thorn.
Then it felt as if I had stepped on a thorn, Which I had!
I plucked it out.
"This is why you don't go barefoot..
why you don't ride bike barefoot,
while you don't jump from shaletop to shaletop barefoot!"
the academy for sneakers and shoes would have boasted and offered me a bandage.
The
phrase "You're going to be just fine" has been trademarked, actually. I
know this because there is a bandage container in the bathroom and I
always eye it while I am peeing.. to the point where I had to move the
package because I became upset how I would always read it every time I
went in there. I would keep thinking about how it is so strange that
certain phrases or emotions, maybe all in due time, would become
accustomed and related to a company or brand slogan. "
Ow, fuck.. I'm okay, I don't need a bandaid" however, would never become a phrase because it offers no commitment to a product or item.
I like being outside, where salamanders walk towards me when I am playing music.
You look out of the corner of your eye and there is this small thing coming towards you.
Reduce
yourself 1/800ths and it would be a terrifying dinosaur and each step
would be a shaking stomp of terror but from my size and perspective the
salamander's steps were very cute and adoring.
After turning the thought '
salamander salamander salamander'
in my mind for weeks prior it was a nice occasion for such a creature
to greet me in real presence, manifest from wishful thinking.
I had kept looking under stones near the moss and hoping to find some every now and then. One of the most humorous and nerve-testing ways to come across something is to stop looking. Or stop 'wanting,' perhaps. And so behold was the fiery creature coming toward me after I forgot all about searching.
I
remember once my friend was being sexually hit on by a preying mantis in
a tennis ball court but that is another instance for another time.
Though he was wearing a green and white striped polo which I think may
have had something to do with it.
I picked up the mander and placed it into the soil where a feline would not later harass it.
:Interlude:
24
Year Old wind surfer who hates music looking for a mean girl.
Activities include not having fun. Seeking Canadian for holding hands
and attending autopsy concertos.
__----___----___----
Find sexy singles near you. 89%
disauthentic robots. Electronic sausage fest of repressed desires
spilling out into digital overflow.::
but it wasn't until later that the thorn decided to attack.
I'm
sure if a snail grew human legs and nice full thick set of red lips and
spoke from them "man you people all seem weird to me" then that would
really throw people off.
Pistachios were saved for another time
and I started to pedal my bike. Pedal pedal pedal and sweat collected
yet the skies were forgiving to all the time cramped up around places
where payment buttons opted for conversation transfers and it was nice
to get out of a citizen-mindset.
"But how will you live without money?"
"Burn it!"
"But how will you survive without gps?"
"Kill me!"
Away
from digital fuzz the crickets swept in tune and humans around were
possibly real.. not just electronic murals of 'click here for eight
offers.' Millions of men were harassing an effigy of a female
somewhere but not here.. not now. I'll throw a stick with a celebrity
cut out pasted on it.. throw it far one way,
far, and allow the
poor woman to escape while the others chase the stick. Run, run,lady,
get away while you can.. and then I continue to ride off into the sunset
with a social retardation that makes a rabid squirrel look like a
possible contender for
Mr. Universal Proper.
"Write me
bite me fight me, but don't write me long." was texted in an alien
language then I took the phone and tossed it into the lakeside. It
skipped like a stone then I apologized to the fish or crabs who may have
to see such a device. Maybe it will infiltrate them, too.. God I hope
not.
Eternal love eternal peace eternal joy internal grace
God
fucking damnit can't this line go any faster, why do people look at you
funny when you walk backwards while peeing your signature in cursive***
The contradictions of wishful mantras.
***The
only way you can pee any names is in cursive unless you start and stop
and start and stop enough to cause a line break of words on the ground.
An insightful tip from an old Ann Landers clipping via The Daily Times,
Aug 15th 1993.
Like some blur in a busy world, weaving in and out
between a niche the beautiful air was breathed in fully up the stream
side where clothes were shed and Geese covered their babies eyes for
they had been taught what proper and improper were.
Somewhere there
was a beach party with pasta being cooked on an open flame and it might
have been the very first time that ever happened... but there was no
proof of such an event because it was all so good that everybody ate it
all up. Weird to think that photos weren't taken and posted on anybody's
wall but none were because the pasta was so good.
I sat and ate my Cliff bar in the sand while that scenario never even crossed my mind at the time.
I was glad that it didn't, because I would have grown a deprivation for a much tastier appetite.
I pedaled and pedaled more and more then I stepped on a thorn. I plucked it out.
15th*
It was not a dismal experience but a great adventure having found the quicksand. I'm unaware of anybody having the
intention to find quicksand but I am sure there are those out there seeking to hide some thing or some body for a very long time that appreciate it. All off the rest of us, it seems, know that quick sand much like the Fiery Mander above, finds us and not us it.
Further down there was Misterio Slithers, The water gliding shore sailor. It was past the pollywogs that Slithers emerged on through the stream. I listened closely to any advice.
Sssttttt stt
tttttttttttt s
sttttttttttttt
ttsttttttttttttt
"Yeah, that's what you always say' I thought at first, but then I had begun to listen more closely.
Stttttt if youstttttt chsstttttttttttttttt shlssssttttttttttts sssssssssssssttttllyyyyy
"no no, I haven't tuned in yet.. wait, I can almost hear...."
If we had any respect for the children we would take them out of the schools immediately.
That made a bit of sense to me at first but the longer I talked to Slithers the more obvious it became that Slithers was referring to schools of fish. Therefore, the snake meant he wanted to take young minnows out of the larger groups and down the innard tubes of the Slithers meal expressway.
All of this finally leads to a cast of words starring in:
Quick-Lined Musketeers
(Scrutiny Laments)
This building collection of Scrutiny Laments was a proposed giration for a
book that was promptly to-be printed on papernapkins with moldy cheese as the
front and back cover. This book was never printed.
However, in the book you will notice the table of contents is missing not only
all legs but it completely removed from the book altogether.
The fish were getting dangerous. The schools were getting smaller and many were
becoming hookers.
Cider seas the fish are getting drunk! Rotting cheese the mice are walking
zags!
Oceans,too, like brisk dry heat, saw porpoises hording Zigs.
Now the docks shook, the shores wiggled, The buoys sunk.
Seagulls bottled in containers wanted out. This was not an unfair request.
Cinder seize on fiery shores: Let all birds not have to tip-toe on scorchy
grounds.
"wanna have a good time?" a baby trout quips through bubbles making
crayfish blush.
Freckles flew out the water and into the skies, striking bottles with seagulls
inside.
Now some fish were naked: Their dots coming off and rising to the occasion,
out of the fluids into the skies!
Before bottles hit the ground the fish freckles popped the Seagulls free.
Whisker fish and rainbow scales saw hemlock tortoises dressed in snake skin.
"wanna have a good time?" some fish were really starting to lose
it, as liquids merged with their airs.
The bellybutton at the bottom of the waters uncorked it's cork and waters
swirveled in.
The equivalent to canned-heat, dry-air, nubby ladders...
*
Note:All dates are measured by the Gregorian Calendar system and may be horribly inaccurate.
