Don't Worry, He's Just A Little Rough Around The Edges

We carved a stumbling path

of bribed bartenders

and jealous hobos

as we danced steps newly invented.

We ended up at your shell of an apartment

with three bottles of illegal booze.

Once they were brutally murdered

we spun those glass corpses

and kissed the ghosts between us.

You left me there

to find your boyfriend

and I woke in the morning

with my nobility still intact.

I don't think you've ever forgiven me for that.

Lips Of Faith

I'll remember the day I crashed into lands unknown,

like a casually dressed avalanche

invading deserts filled with folk singers.

I expected to fall to ruin

with mud my only evidence.

I'll remember the arcs, the arcs,

funny little half circles

supporting the white of the page.

A strange reminder

of the flowers I never brought.

There they sit

waiting for 1 hundred and 80 degrees.

You Have 18 Songs To Change The World

I finally got myself a car a couple of weeks ago. Now, I'm not trying to minimize the awesome that comes with having your own car, but there's something that is missing from my car. A jack to plug an mp3 player into. Perhaps I'm a little spoiled, but damn, I love having my little mp3 player, filled with close to 1,300 songs at my fingertips during long drives, or hell, short drives. The last car I drove had one. But, my new car does have a CD player. Which means, if I want the music I want in my car I have to play things 03 style and make some CDs.

I grew up in a strange time in history. I was born in '88 so my teenage years were contained solely in the first decade of the new millennium; the decade of internet piracy, blatant copyright infringement and CD burners. Everyone knew that a standard CD had enough room for 18 songs, 19 if you were lucky, 20 if the songs were 1 minute a piece. Everyone had that CD case that would strap to their sun visors and was just packed full of burned CDs. I knew some very entrepreneurial kids who actually managed to make some extra cash by burning CDs for other kids.

Now I imagine that most people approached CD making with the shotgun approach, which in hindsight is the best approach. They'd grab 18 songs and bam, CD was made. I on the other hand tended to take the surgical approach. Every song had a purpose, the order of the tracks was done with a specific intention in mind. Every CD I made was like a concept album. I remember pissing my friends off by delaying trips for a half hour just so I could put together the perfect road trip CD.

There was something special about putting together the best CD you could. It was like sorting through the library of all the songs that have meant something to you, either emotionally, or just because you connected with the beat, then picking out those memories and gathering them in one place. Sure, there are still playlists for mp3 players, but there was something much more permanent about making a CD. Once you clicked that "burn" button, it was over. There was no turning back. Your careful consideration and tedious nitpicking about whether Semi-Charmed Kind of Life worked better either before or after California Love would soon be a physical object. Your contemplation on whether or not Matchbox 20 belonged in that "Romance" CD you didn't tell your friends about.

Speaking of romance. I know I'm not the only one out there who made CDs for girls. That was the epitome of CD making. This was the chance to show how awesome you were without having to say a single word. If you could put the right songs in the right order she'd fall in love with you right? You'd make sure some of her favorite songs were in there. Then you'd throw in one or two of your own. Then towards the end you'd get a little cheeky. R,Kelly Bumb n Grind, TLC Red Light Special, Spice Girls 2 Become 1, yeah because you know what you really wanted to happen after you gave that CD to her. Don't lie.

I know before the onset of CDs people made mixtapes, but I didn't so I don't care.

Well, I'm older now, but I'm back to making CDs. Funny how some of those skills never leave you. Now if you excuse me I have to go put together the ultimate indie rock/punk folk CD ever.

Forward

Fresh waters of the Michigan capped

in brilliant sprays, with rainbow webbing.

The cotton storms picked up on the lake winds

and in the twilight sun

Refused to burn, even when engulfed in fire.

I took a breath then and smiled

dizzy off of spiced apple wine.

On the island of the matriarch

the wildflowers shook anxiously,

preparing for their slumber

under the autumn sun.

I ran my fingers for a final time

along the sharp edges of the prairie grasses

and left behind what was created there.

The shimmering Mississippi

glowed like a vein of phosphorous.

It was violent with flood waters

and ignited under the noon sun.

Among the artists and cultured

I watched the river burn

while they painted the scene perfectly.

I’ve found peace a handful of times,

underneath a generous Wisconsin sun.

Spilling Out In Panels Pt.2

A week or so ago, I showed you guys some of the character concepts (works in progress) that I've come up with so far. But to be honest, while they will be major characters, they don't really look all that interesting when just described. I wish I could draw something up for you folks, but the truth is, I can't draw. That being said, I've decided to go back to the well and share a couple more character concepts (also works in progress) that I've come up with. This time, we're doing superheroes!

Madame Breeze: Real name: Collette Jones, 5'8" short black hair with sky blue streaks in it and brown eyes. She has light mocha colored skin, comes from a mixed heritage. She has breasts somewhere in the B-range (sorry, this is kind of vague, but I'm not an expert on breast sizes...yet). When out of costume she's going to typically be in a sort of neo-hippie/tropical get up. Long skirts with colorful patterns, camisoles, and sandals. Costume: The main colors will be sky blue and black. Calf length pants, similar to capris. They have blue inner thighs, and black for the rest of them. Ankle high black boots. Her top is sleeveless and cut down to her belly button, in a sort of obvious male pandering way. The front of her top is light blue, as if it's a continuation of the blue in her pants. Then black for the rest of the top. She wears black leather gloves that are rolled down a little. (I'm thinking something like the gloves Rogue wore from the 90s X-Men cartoon). On the backhand portion of the gloves there's a light blue spiral design this is her personal symbol. Powers: Madame Breeze's powers are pretty simple. She turns invisible whenever she's in a deep shadow.

The Serenade: Real name: Rebecca Montag. 6'0" bleach blonde hair and grey eyes, white. She has much larger breasts than Madame Breeze, I'm thinking something in the D or larger range. Out of costume she's a fashionista. Trendy tops, skinny jeans, high leather boots, heels, manicured nails the whole 9 yards. Costume: Skin tight one-piece. It starts with a straight neck line and ends with a pair of short shorts. The main colors are white and a dark green. The costume is broken up into four sections. A green section covering her right breast that extends down to her midsection and then goes over halfway. A white section that covers her right lower section and goes up to meet the green section. On the other half of the costume the colors are just reversed. Also, when in costume she wears her hair in two long braids, and has green florets painted around her eyes. (Like the female night elves from World of Warcraft, yes I am that geeky). Powers: She has the ability to vibrate her molecules extremely fast then store up the kinetic energy that she can release in powerful lime green energy blasts. When she uses her powers she becomes blurry until the blast hits its mark.

* * *

There ya go, another two characters from my comic. Hopefully these two are a little more interesting visually speaking. I still have a few more characters to share with you guys. So if this interests you check back in the coming days. If you didn't catch my other post about my comic stuff here's a link. Spilling Out In Panels

Sex: The Consequences And Learning How To Forget Them

The short nights are approaching

and like the changing of the season

they will descend upon us all.

They will fight

in the long afternoon shadows

and the backseats of rusty old Chevys.

But for the first time,

I wish to enlist.

Spin that American Greatest Hits album,

the one I bought

the last time the levees broke,

because I no longer

want to be a constituent

instead I pray that someday

you'll legislate against me.

I've Got A Little Story For You

Stories are powerful things. They define who we are, they are testaments to the fact that we have lived. I consider myself a lucky person for many reasons and one of those reasons is that I work somewhere where people have an overabundance of stories to tell. In fact it's my favorite part of my job. Everyday I have time to sit with my co-workers and share our stories. Some are funny, some are heartbreaking and some are just plain weird. But the fact remains, that everyday I get the chance to let people into my life, and in return they allow me into their lives.

I often think about the true power of a story. What about these little tidbits of our lives that we can vocalize or write down make stories truly great. To be honest I don't know if there's a true answer to that, but I can say that I have my own personal answers. Stories are powerful because like I said before, they define us. If we share enough stories with people, we're giving them the ability to track our lives all the way to where we are now. I have friends who have very specific personality traits, some of them pretty weird. But I can think back to the stories that they've told me and find a line that explains almost every quirk and trait. And once I understand these traits, I feel closer to my friends.

Also, stories are our marks on this world. They are our tiny little scratches into the big wall of history and the entirety of human existence. Now sure, my story about getting drunk for the first time and puking on my friends bed, may not make the history books. But, what it did do, was find a tiny corner in every person's brain that I told that story to. I can now feel comfortable that the fact of my existence will remain in that person's head. If I'm lucky, they'll retell that story to someone else. Maybe it'll stop there though, but I still find comfort that for at least a few days, there's someone out there who knows that I've had a past. Stories are our truest legacies. Some people believe that their children, and their children's children are their legacies. But that's not the case, because each one of those children will have their own stories and their own legacies to create. Our stories though, are ours they are things that we can pass down without any loss to ourselves, and without worry that they will fall off the counter and break into a thousand pieces.

Tell your stories, do things in your life that will ensure you have stories to tell. Let people into your life, pass on your legacy.