Monthly Archives: February 2001

‘Doing Nothing’

I wrote this one in the car, with Robin driving, after a day out somewhere. It’s barely legible, as I could not see what I was scribbling.

‘Doing Nothing’

The trees hang over the freeway at night.

I’m sitting in the car,
  Racing home from another day out-
Buying things,
  Eating things,
    Doing nothing.

It’s dark, and I can’t see what I’m writing down.
  I wonder what it says.

We missed our off-ramp;
Robin is driving,
  And she looks distracted.
I wonder what she’s thinking about?

Ooo, my neck is sore!

Here comes our street;
  Will she miss it this time?

The car bounds along,
  My pen darting across the page
    Making spidery black lines
     On white pages.

Recycled paper journals to ease my frustrations,
  Soothe my anxieties,
  Consume my time,
  Contain my madness,
  Make my hand sore.

‘Fire In The Trash Barrel’

This was written upon seeing some (homeless?) folks on the street in downtown L.A., warming their hands upon the fire.

‘Fire In The Trash Barrel’

Fire in the trash barrel
  A circle of friends
  Hands warming
  Souls beaming
Light hearts in dark city nights
  Talk idly of days past.

‘I Sit Me On A Windowsill’

Lying in bed, in pitch dark, I reached for my journal and scribbled the following nonsense. In the morning, I could barely make out what I had written!

‘I Sit Me On A Windowsill’

I sit me on a windowsill
    and whistle at the birds
    whistle at the wind
wind         ‘the wind cries Mary’
    or does it cry Sue?
Sue        soup kitchen
I stand in line for hours
    and this bisquit is too small
perhaps me go to the mall
    and beg there
    for bigger bread
        beggar bread
or the moon instead

I sit me on a windowsill
    and look upon the stars
    stars are cars
        cars are ours
we trade our stars for cars
Smoke climbs high
    into the sky
so will I         so will I
    into the heavens I will fly
seeking rain to bless the earth
    sweet tears of gods
    bathe streets of silver

I sit me on a windowsill
    watching things to come
steel drum band is in the park
    on a lark
    playing in the dark
I wish that I could play the drums
    like that
Free to play
    play all day
the game that’s called
    your life

I sit me on a windowsill
    and watch the world go by
    soon we’ll die
        but I won’t cry
‘cuz living is what counts
Right Action,
        Right Intention
every moment matters
    so falling with a clatter
I jumping off the windowsill
    and now I will
    laugh and sing tonight

I Began Drafting This Site

I’ll bet you didn’t know this page was so new, did you?!

Seriously, I started writing it to-day, and I just changed my DNS record so that I can post it in it’s (incomplete) form as soon I have some basics completed.

David Moved AGAIN!

My lawyer-friend David moved yesterday, and guess who got to lug boxes for him? That’s right, yours truly. Not that I mind; he’s a good guy and needs help, and I do try to be there for people. Would that I could succeed as often as I fail… more on this in the Editorials.

{note: reference is to defunct version of this site.}