18 April 2009

thunderstorm on location today

The sky split open
Like a windshield yielding
To a rock flung carelessly
By the oblivious driver ahead
Then instantly repaired
But in that brief moment
We were given a glimpse
Of our beginning and our future
Ultimate power and ultimate suffering
And I felt very small
But blessed

15 April 2009


Dancing flames reflected in translucent pairs
Flicker in time with a somber tune
From the acoustic guitar across the fire
Hope radiates into the sky like coins
Casually dropped into a wishing well
Echoing back a vestigial subversion of desire

But as you look deeper into their lies
You are surprised to find demons hidden
Beneath masks of inconsequent smiles and tears
And now embarassed at your ignorant dreams
That what you took for granted, once exchanged
Makes you wish you had what you were handed

12 April 2009

jared the bee keeper

I just realized that I forgot the point of the last post. I want bee boxes. Well, I’ve always wanted bee boxes, but I have recently revisited the idea because I want to claim self-employed on my taxes this year. Not sure the requirements to make such a [legal] claim, but either way, I’ll end up with bee boxes. Good for me, because I like honey in my smoothies and tea. And I drink a lot of tea, and smoothies here and there. And honey is getting crazy expensive.

bee attack

Last weekend, on a gloriously sunny Saturday afternoon, I was cruising 180 out of Weatherford with the windows rolled down rocking slightly stoopid for all to hear. Just as the city streets gave way to county road…

A small cloud appeared ten or twelve yards ahead of me. It was just off the road, rising quickly out of the ground and into my path. I had no choice but to plow through the cloud at fifty-plus miles per hour. My windshield instantly exploded in a yellowish, chunky goo, and I felt needle pricks from the tip of my fingers up my arm to my cheek, and around to the backside of my neck

…the above paragraph took almost half a second. I thought my life was over. Well not that dramatic. But I did swerve a bit, getting a honk from the jerk in the next lane. Yup, still alive. And crap, still in Texas. I hit my windshield wiper knob and noticed some funny looking somethings stuck in my wipers. About that time, I noticed the tingling on my left side turn into a stinging sensation. It all came together in an instant: bees. Lots of bees. Probably five or six hundred bees, no joke. My windshield was completely covered with guts (which was a very citrusesque mangoish yellow with bright yellow chunks), and my lap and the inside of my truck were littered with at least fifty bee carcasses.

I was pissed. The actual bee stinging and covering of my truck (the entire front end and a good part of the left side, probably an entire hive; a little justice for my side) did not bother me as much as being allergic to hornets, and as of that morning, an unknown number of other species of stinging insects. And I hate finding out my allergies the hard way (hornets for one, and ask Robbie at kiwi’s (yes, kiwi, like the fruit, not the native New Zealander)). So I’m driving along, having just been [potentially fatally] stung by ten or so bees, I channel the final scenes from both My Girl and The Fast and the Furious, racing towards the hospital (conveniently, the same direction I was already going) for a few minutes, until the stinging subsided and I learned I was not allergic to bees. The rest of the day turned out just fine.

10 April 2009

night terrors

in the waning breath of night,
when the air turns from harsh to crisp,
the streets flash with the last rush
of demons seeking refuge
from the rising sun’s stinging light,
fighting to not be left behind
to an uncertain fate
at the hands of their victims
with the roles reversed.
and to avoid the terror shift,
they escape beyond mortal conscious
to the world we call dreams,
and hide their existence
among the creatures of make believe.

09 April 2009

no apologies

I cannot help how I feel.
I can try to fight it,
But will always fail,
So I hide it,
With a smile,
Or without—
Blurring the lines
Between doubt and lies,
And if I’m good enough
You’ll never notice,
But if you do
I’ll lose you,
But don’t worry;
You’re probably better off.