flickrverse

flickrverse is dead

2007-02-21T11:21:00.000-08:00

Hi Kiddos,

I think it's time to throw in the towel. flickrverse has been negelected for too long. It's time to move on.

Bye-bye, flickrverse. You were fun while you lasted.

If anyone wants to keep up with the goings on in my life, check out my livejournal at http://revjustin.livejournal.com/.

Much love to all, Justin

if you can't make it don't even try

2007-01-06T13:21:00.001-08:00

072801 Dream big
Originally uploaded by blueblue.

There is always something inside me that wants to get out of here. Where ever here is. Move on. Move big. Do something absolute and grand.
Then there is that other part of me that wants so badly to stay here. Not move. Fat statue. Double chin.

Every time I dream big nothing happens. Am I killing myself? Do I really want to die?

No. Of course not. I have children to I love. A wife. Two cats. A dog.

And big dreams. Big big dreams.

For Mark Sandman Wherever You Are

2006-12-16T11:21:00.001-08:00

Under Da Sea
Originally uploaded by rev_justin.

Yes, Mark.
I feel like swimming today.

I am ready.
I am ready.

I am ready to dive down deep
down deep
deeper deeper
over my head
head
dive down deep
I'm ready.

The shock of cold water
stops my breath
but my heart
remains
warm.

She Never Saw

2006-11-29T20:52:00.001-08:00

SheNeverSaw
Originally uploaded by rev_justin.

so much for caution
so much for wind
too much
never said

Pick a Fav

2006-10-23T20:52:00.000-07:00

Well, well, well. The creative juices just may be flowin' again. Since I posted my last little posty-poo, I have been slowly reviewing flickrverses from days of yore. My goal is to pick out the ones I really like and, like, do something with them, ya' know?

I tried this once before and it didn't work out, but whatever. I am a glutton for punishment. Let's try it again: blogger to reader interaction.

If you pick 3 of your favorite flickrverses with an explaination why you like them, you will get a FREE copy of my upcomimg flickrverse fanzine (I am not kidding about that). Leave your picks in a comment and give me some way to find you so I can send you a copy of your prize.

SPECIAL BONUS: Pick three of your favorites w/ reasons why and also tell me three of your least favorites (once again with reasons why) and recieve a free pre-press copy of my upcoming, yet to be written or published children's book (I am not kidding about that either. It's in the works).

Have at it folks. Submissions are due by Thanksgiving 2006. Fanzine to be published in time for Xmas. Childrens book may never be published, but I hope to have something cool by New Year's.

Oh My God! He posted something!

2006-10-19T14:30:00.000-07:00

If what you feel about me
rests upon the turning of a phrase,
We are within the hollow of a crime that never pays,
wasting all our days
in a thousand different ways
just to die together, side-by-side,
never knowing who the body is that shares in our demise.

(no photo on this one folks)

i am

2006-07-29T21:59:00.000-07:00

i am
Originally uploaded by shannou.

Can the architect contrive a space where love occurs? not occupied simply but lived?
Could they, for example,
fashion apparatus focus early morning sun
on note left from lover reluctantly departed? (“Coffee ready. Just press ‘On’.)

Could they, for example,
make floorboards creak invocation night she could try to sneak with pie fail miserably you both die laughing
invocation of forgotten tune a delicous toothsome moment long past?

Could they, for example,
may see us making love just because we can and I just don’t care?

Could they, for eample,
make it be its been a long time since everything has felt so right?

Cuteness Abounds

2006-07-24T15:25:00.000-07:00

lilmama
Originally uploaded by rev_justin.

Onsies and littles dressess
too little to be real
With both arms extended upward,
hands shaking, looking right into my eyes,
a look of utter desperation
as in "I need this now!"
or I feel a need, there is nothing but the now
if you don't hold me in your arms
I may simply die from want
babies have Momdar
their intuitions sharp
it is their best trick

this could be too much
this could be too many
babies draw away attention, draw my love toward them
but the fact is
there is plently
to go
around

it only multilpies the wonderment that is electric in the air
we are all breathing it in I with deep draws of appreciation
and joy
and they with baby happy panting and giggling
the payback is radient smiles
pure trust
this is more than being needed
this is more than being loved
this is more than knowing that I am the center of two universes
this affirms me
this defines me
this is the fullest realization
it tickles me to the very core
and I laugh with them

I share my joy with the world

Prayer to human in searing feedback

2006-07-13T10:21:00.000-07:00

My sensory deprivation session with Biosphere's Autour de la Lune
Originally uploaded by jntolva.

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Adding Machine

2006-07-12T11:05:00.000-07:00

Adding Machine
Originally uploaded by Frottage Cheese.

Explain what is wrong
in these attractive secrets:

In the extremity there is dishonor.

Our distant science divides.

You owe an explanation.

let us divide
divide divide
divide
divide
divide

15 Years just holding up the bars

2006-07-10T15:39:00.000-07:00

I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel
Originally uploaded by .bandit.

I carried in my own shoes
all by myself to the waiting room.
The lady that had checked me in
told me I had come in too soon.

The lady said I'd come too soon.

The words she spoke just toppled in
like text messages to another world.
I paid my way, so I belive
in getting my time with the tarot girl.

Get my time with the tarot girl.

I put my body down from reason
and pulled out something from my bag
15 dollars, pay from the mill
spent in 15 minutes on a porno mag

15 minutes and porno mag

What I'll recieve I will not know.
My company is confusion, a bottle and these stars
15 dollars was my pay from the mill
15 years spent holding up the bar

I spent 15 years just holiding up the bars.

Micah's Bike

2006-07-04T08:52:00.000-07:00

Since the poetry hasn't been a-flowin' recently, I thought I'd treat you to this video of Micah riding his new two-wheeler bike for the first time which is poetic in it's own right. Enjoy

Please become a donor

2006-06-26T10:40:00.000-07:00

My Dad is currently fighting blood cancer and his only chance of survival is to get a bone marrow transplant. He needs a donor. That person could be you.

I implore you to please consider becoming a bone marrow donor. You will only actually donate if you are found to match a patient in need and even then, it's just like donating blood or plasma. To register, you need to get some blood drawn or have a finger stick (which doesn't hurt - I do it everyday for my diabetes testing). Depending on the situation, you may have to pay a fee, but it's worth it. Go to the National Bone Marrow Donor Program's website for more info.

Please.

Lyrical Remix

2006-06-13T11:06:00.000-07:00

like i never occurred.
Originally uploaded by maulopes.

never will seem more like blurs
like I never will be loved

the memories of me
are a series of you

be loved
be loved

bad dreams have
occurred

I've been meaning to write.

2006-06-07T20:38:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to write.
Originally uploaded by fotografik.

Like a cardboard box

without a top

in the rain

I am waiting for the muse

that bitch

Seattle

2006-05-25T11:12:00.000-07:00

rainy*night
Originally uploaded by puja.

Your core is
a lone, grizzly man
drunken and fighting and whoring,
stuck on skid row,
soaked in sweat
and must
and drizzle
and depravation.

The steel and shine and glint and glimmer,
the new quality of light that falls on your
tourist attractions is
never enough to disengage the qualities of moss
that creeps across
you.

The transformation will not complete
despite the movie house, coffee shop, sushi teriyaki,
strip malls.
We can only guess
the future shines brightly in your eyes

You're forever looking inward.

How Not To Make a Horror Movie

2006-05-21T07:47:00.000-07:00

How Not To Make a Horror Movie
Originally uploaded by Bargain Betty.

I would imagine
these flowers are

pretty much

useless

light at the end of the tunnel

2006-05-17T14:51:00.000-07:00

light at the end of the tunnel
Originally uploaded by aerolith.

Those blessed with a clear and open channel
and those blessed with foresight
and those blessed with self control
and those blessed with plans
and blueprints
and goals
and a contract to succeed,
dip a precious toe in the reservoir I've collected
at the brink of this Hoover Dam of shit I've made.
Pass that blessed-be to me, you angels of normalcy,
you kissable People Magaziners,
you healthy, budget-loving churchies.
I am trying so hard to admire you.
Please - I am only asking you to join me
in a game of affirmations.
Tell me I'm alright.

Then leave me alone.

birdie chapter two

2006-05-13T07:30:00.000-07:00

Work No Longer in Progress
Originally uploaded by relentlesstoil.

Mama thought it would just be best of we sat around the porch all day and kept away from the lot. Ernest must of told her about what we found there. He must have just gone right ahead and told even though we pinkie promised and everything.

When Ernest came down he wouldn't share his lemonade. "Birdie, you don't get no lemonade from Mama today. I told her what we found," he told me.

"You are a mean jean, Ernest Jonston. And I don't want lemonade anyway."

"Have it your way, Dirty Birdie." He sipped it. "Hmmmm....this sure is good. Man, I think I'm gonna go get some more."

"Look here, Ernest Jonston! You broke our pinkie promise and told and you weren't s'posed to or nothing. God is gonna put you in Hell for that. God puts people in hell for breaking a pinkie promise. I hate you!"

"Pinkie promises are for little girls. Anyway, I had to tell. When you get to middle school things get more important. You won't understand that kind of stuff." He looked all over the porch. "God won't send me to hell. Mama said so. The man who did that in the lot is going to hell, Mama said. Sure as she was born."

written as per request

For the King of May

2006-05-08T22:46:00.000-07:00

Irwin Allen Ginsberg
Originally uploaded by clynt.

It is way past May First, but happy May Day anyway, Allen, the Kral Majales.
Your Prauge springtime has been filmed and framed in more beautiful light then Austin Texas.
1965 the springtime had you draped, coated, crowned, riding high and royal
on the back of a flatbed truck.

Where did all the 1965 flatbeds go, Allen? I deem that year of 1965 a new zodiac - Year of Flatbed.

In San Fransico guitars exploding outward the sheer tenacity of faith from flatbed,
the music of pure intention, a prayer to human in searing feedback and groupmind think,
power flatbed tie-dye backline amps by cord that dangles
from the corner of
wide open
third floor crash pad
windows.
Flatbed revolutionaries 1965, King Allen, King of May.

You, Allen, your words, your life exploded on the page.
Your mindfuck explodes orgasmic and spatters sex
and drugs and punk fucking rock on the clean white wall of America 1956, America 1996, America 2006.

Write what hurts, Kral Majales, 'cause we're at war this May and no one feels the pain no more.

And Austin Texas far from Prauge or 1965.

I was cold in the night

2006-05-08T16:36:00.000-07:00

Inundación
Originally uploaded by Martina Flor.

I was in the middle of the night
and I was cold.

I was a girl, of course.

And I didn't like egg tacos.

composed by guest poet micah burke

Thinking Good Thoughts (For Dad)

2006-05-02T15:19:00.000-07:00

Thinking Good Thoughts
Originally uploaded by aquarabbit.

The hardest task
is smiling
when you are so pissed off
you could pop.

Even harder -
smiling when you are bent over
with amazing, paranormal nausea
that is supposed to heal you.

Every good thought is a gossamer feather tossed around the ethers
waiting to collide
with anyone
who needs it.

Somewhere out there is an entire bird, waiting just for you.

400 Visits!

2006-05-02T09:30:00.000-07:00

flickrverse got it's 400th visit today. A fine and curious person from Germany stopped by on their way out of Lil' Mama, spent about 5 or 6 minutes looking around, and then moved on to The Austinist.

I know that 400 visits is like a fly speck on the windowsill in the House of Blog, but for a peon like me, 400 is pretty cool.

I am now thinking of selling the movie rights. Anyone interested?

UPDATE: The mystery German was identified. Thanks for visting, Noemi, Dario, and little Pascal!!

What goes on where I can't see?

2006-04-26T21:25:00.000-07:00

Chemo Class Doodles
Originally uploaded by .••:.-=|[ {-Ðà-téŋsħï-} ]|=-.:••..

Ten minutes ago she joked around
in the safe confines
of the family SUV.
"Daddy never gets it right," she laughed.
A red hairband in her teeth, she helps put up her little sister's hair.
There were 13 years of Daddy's little girl.
Now, her head is perpetually turned away.
The rest of us pretend
that we don't care.

they will never catch me

2006-04-25T10:09:00.000-07:00

sie werden nie mich fangen.
Originally uploaded by simple pleasure.

sometimes you get that golden ring
and take it
to the pawn shop

the cash you get you spend on shoes

you wear those shoes out while you walk
along the same
old
road
outside the front
of your house

at night you go home and watch the tube

when you arise, you can't remember what you saw
or felt

and somehow you lost the freaking pawn ticket
on your way to the fridge

There is art in what I do to you

2006-04-16T02:06:00.000-07:00

Waiting
Originally uploaded by Gaffer.

I tip my cup
to spill
a drop of rich milk
into the dry
and crusty soil
of a plant
that died
of my own neglect.
The delicacy and tenderness
of my motion does not keep
a thorn
from drawing blood.

Chores in the grape arbor

2006-04-10T00:43:00.000-07:00

Grandpa
Originally uploaded by rev_justin.

The elk come down almost every night
and have their way with the garden.
My work today here is a minor detail.
The elk, they do it to survive.

We have that much in common.

Since we've been here, the grape arbor has rotted away.
The two grisled vines are now wooden geysers sprung from the mud,
free to grow uncontrolled, unexpected.

These vines are just a detail in my life.

As I walk from the shed to the vines, hacksaw in hand,
it suddenly hits me.

I hope the apologies I have made
stick.

Me Update

2006-04-07T12:59:00.000-07:00

Ah...my favorite subject....me.

So, as my legions of regualr readers know, there has been strife in the Burke family as of late. I am actually in Seattle right now visting the immeadiate family and spending some happy times with everyone. As "they" say, just as the doctor ordered.

MDS is a disease of unknowns and if you are like most people, the unknown is scary. However, unlike the first few days after my Dad's inital diagnosis, things are a little more clear. MDS, while serious, is not an "emergency" per se. In other words, we know that Dad isn't going to keel over in the next few weeks.

Living in Seattle means that he has access to the best MDS care in the world at the Fred Hutchinson research hospital. They specialize in leukimia there and because MDS is a pre-cursor to actue leukima, they also know a thing or two about MDS. That makes us all a little more comfortable with things or at least as comfortable as we can be.

Thanks to everyone who has been so supportive to me and my family at this f'd up time. I have gotten lots of great advice and lovin'. We're keeping a posive attuitude and trying to really appreciatw what we have. Thanks again.

So...what about the flickrverses?

I promise they'll be coming soon, but soon is a rather releative term now isn't it?

On a little break right now

2006-03-31T17:35:00.000-08:00

Howdy folks,

I apologize for the laspe in flickrverse'ing recently. Things have been a little intense for me these past few days and blogging hasn't been a top priority for me. My Dad was diagnosed with MDS, which is a somewhat rare blood disease that is pretty serious. It was kinda out of the blue, so we are all a little shocked and don't really know what to do. Hence my distraction.

I promise that the flickerverses will return. Maybe even tommorrow, but I don't know to be honest.

I am going to play with my son for a while now before he goes to bed.

My love to you all.

Justin

I had so much fun in 8th grade

2006-03-27T09:19:00.000-08:00

Polaroid old skateboards
Originally uploaded by EPIDEMIA_.

You ditched me at the top of the hill.
I was 30 miles from home and 14 years old.
You ran off to your Mommies and laughed your assess off, I'm sure.
Was my Mr.Yuk skateboard not cool enough? Were my Rector pads too nerdy?

But look who's laughing now!

You are.

Still.

And you say I am too cerebral

2006-03-25T09:18:00.000-08:00

SQL
Originally uploaded by ~ arun ~.

SELECT me.issues, you.issues INTO currentsituation
FROM deepestsecrets me
LEFT OUTER JOIN apprehensions you
ON you.vulnerability = me.neediness
WHERE you.history not in (Select sexID from exboyfriends where quality like '%in love%') and me.habits not in (Select habitID from regrets where habittype in ('flatulant', 'drunkard', 'clueless')

that didn't go the way I had planned

2006-03-22T21:20:00.000-08:00

awkward polaroid friends
Originally uploaded by Claire L. Evans.

We celebrated St. Patty's Day
on February 14th.

No one
could be confused about our intent,
except me.

I took your picture 100 times.
I took pictures of your shoes.
I took a picture of you eating.

At least I was the one with the pictures
to throw away.

100 fun/or not so fun facts about me

2006-03-22T21:01:00.000-08:00

100 fun/or not so fun facts about me
Originally uploaded by snatched.

My underplayed stretch for perfection
and
attention
can never be rubbed away
if coated in a plastic sheath
of poetics
and flat out lies.

There are no more door prizes.

These words are not who I am.

If I told you the truth, you wouldn't believe me anyway.

This is not a photo opportunity

2006-03-20T18:25:00.000-08:00

This is not a photo opportunity
Originally uploaded by Styggiti.

When I see you in the supermarket talking on your cell phone, I often wonder who it is you are talking to. And then, I wonder, where are they? In the supermarket too?

Did they just
run into a four-year-old child
with their shopping cart full of organic produce?

Listening to the Grateful Dead

2006-03-18T20:31:00.000-08:00

Listening to the Grateful Dead
Originally uploaded by all at once.

Pinning it down
is like trying to take the cat
to the vet.

I am not even sure what "it" is.

All I know is that it started on a fall day so crisp, reality had edges. A walk through the woods that day proved cinematic. I would later describe it as if I were in an outake from "Miller's Crossing." I am not sure if that made any sense.

I am not sure if "it" makes any sense.

I think it is safe to stay away from those for whom "it" makes the most sense.

The peak of it happened on a night when the edges of life seemed dull. Some kid from Cornell was out on a walk with his girlfriend and brought you back out of your gourd on you own addiction to despair. He didn't know what to do with you, so he tackled you and prevented you from diving off the bridge. Your girlfriend and I were just talking about how much we hated you. You'd think we'd be happy.

We put you to bed,
hit the bottle,
talked.

Then she kissed me.

It was a sloppy, drunken kiss and it tastes of the same despair that was dragging "it" down for everyone. "It" was dying, dying.

It was dead by the time I went home. Alone.

Thank God.

There was a Lot More to Katie than Her Horrifying Poetry

2006-03-18T13:39:00.000-08:00

There was a Lot More to Katie
than Her Horrifying Poetry
Originally uploaded by relentlesstoil.

You sleep in on the weekends like everyone else you aren't extremely skeptical of. The sun isn't your enemy, but there is something about the newness of the sunlight in early morning that makes you uncomfortable. This is why getting up at 6 sucked so incredibly bad for you this morning.

But you did it, right? You crawled out of bed, showered in the cold morning air, got dressed in an uncharacteristic outfit of jeans and a t-shirt and even managed to slop some cereal into your mouth as your grand gesture towards the ritual of breakfast.

It wasn't long before you were in the car and on your way. It may not have been the best weekend to quit smoking, but at least you still have coffee and your favorite outlet is only a few blocks from your apartment. The line is usually long by the time you make it there on a Saturday, laptop under your arm, your purse overflowing with the detritus you have collected over the span of maybe 6 months or more. No laptop today. You won't be needing it. No cigarettes and no laptop. At least you still have coffee and there is practically no one in line.

There is one customer there, however. An older man, maybe in his 60's or 70's. You can't tell. You are terrible with guessing ages and it never really mattered much to you. People where either tolerable or intolerable. This guy seemed like he fit into the latter category.

He was in the process of ordering an elaborate concoction that went above and beyond the limits of practicality. The kind of drink that does it's best job to obscure the fact that it has coffee inside it at all.

"..and use steam to heat the water rather than from the tap," he instructed the barista, a guy named Eliot who you knew from your college days. Eliot took his instructions well. He even smiled and set off to create this elaborate beverage du jour. You found this surprising as Eliot's sarcasm levels usually ran as high as your father's cholesterol.

Then, surprisingly, your cell phone rang. It was Harden. Your boyfriend.

"Where are you?"
"Getting coffee."
"Why?"
"um...I like coffee."
"No shit. I mean why are you out this early?"
"Why are you calling me this early?"
"I haven't gone to bed yet. Ruby's party was a little crazy. These hippies showed up and things got ugly."
"Hippies, huh?"
"Yeah......anyway, what are you doing up?"
"I have something I need to do today."
"What? I don't remember you saying anything about..."
"It's something personal, okay? I thought we wern't going to do that whole jealousy thing."
"I'm not jealous. It just seems a little out of character, that's all...."
"Is there anything you'd actually like to say now? I have to order my coffee."
"Are you quitting smoking again? You seem kinda bitc..."

You hung up on him. You usually do.

With coffee ordered and delivered (you always get a breve latte with two shots, don't you?), you are out the door and back in the car again. You turn on your iPod and put it on shuffle. The little hula girl you have super-glued to your dashboard seems to jiggle and wiggle exactly in time to a song that you never knew the title of because it was on a mix CD your ex-boyfriend gave you. You didn't want to call him again to find out what it was.

Traffic is never bad on the weekends, but this early in the morning, the roads are free and clear, so MapQuest's estimate of 30 minutes to your destination was off by about 10 minutes. That means you are the first one there, which makes you immeadiatly irritable. Being early is a sign of weakness.

You debate with yourself if this whole thing was a good idea or not. It's too early. You should be asleep. You work too hard during the week and need to rest up so your idiot boss can give you more work that doesn't even begin to capitalize on your true talents. But this was something you needed and you knew it. It was an idea you had in a moment of clarity and unlike your other fabulous ideas, this was something you wanted-- no. needed-- to follow through with. Not for your Mother, not for your asshole of a Father, not even to prove a point. It was just for you.

And it was also up to you to follow through with it.

You sip your coffee down to the last bit of froth, lick around the rim of the cup, and systematically toss it into the backseat to join the honorable ranks of the other dead soliders in the battle against the sleepies.

You notice something in the corner of your eye. You see someone else coming down the road. They park their large, red pick-up truck next to your car and get out. It's a man who looks so much like a construction worker that he actually was one. He smiles when he sees you in your car and walks over. You roll down your window.

"You here to work on the Habitat for Humanity project?"
"Yeah."
"Great. Let's get to work before it gets too crowded around here."

You actually found yourself nervous. You actually felt real.

*A little break in format today. Thanks to Keet for the pic and inspiration.

RnFnR!

2006-03-16T11:27:00.000-08:00

sleater-kinney
Originally uploaded by charlois.

In a punk-rock
pinball arcade:

two young men with ties.
One plays drums.
The other, guitar.

These two bastards dropped their pants in homage to the drunk
and played thirty-two 2 second songs that spat fury into your eye and recharged something long depleted inside of you.

Flourecent lighting doesn't ever do anyone justice and that is
so punk rock.

Punk. Fucking. Rock. Man.
Punk. Fucking. Rock.

I swear we were lovers just 10 seconds ago

2006-03-15T12:28:00.000-08:00

go be stupid somewhere else
Originally uploaded by ratterrell.

We lay on the grass
in the park
and don't say much more
than "Look at that cloud"
or "I have to pee".

I can feel you
even though we are not
touching and
it makes me nervous.

I am worried
that the electronic bond may break
and we would have to go back
to the way it was.

It is worth it

2006-03-14T14:30:00.000-08:00

For Daniel
Originally uploaded by Vidalia.

If you ever noticed
that the rags
under the sink
were so neatly folded,
I would die.

When you pay our bills
you chew
on the tip
of a pencil.

As you wake up
you always smile.

*Be sure to click on the photo and read the photograher's description.

Who knows the truth

2006-03-13T15:40:00.000-08:00

Running late for work #2
Originally uploaded by shenanigan kid.

The sense that I am no longer
actually doing the driving
anymore

has taken over.

I am not worried
or even the slightest bit bothered.

This is what I wanted
from the start.

My good friend
latches on
to the notion that
he has control.

As if that matters
when you could get
hit by a truck.

I don't feel
out of control.

That probably means,
I am lying.

Check It Out!

2006-03-12T13:18:00.000-08:00

I now have a new blog about this blog. So, I am blogging about blogging on a blog about blogs. It's called flickrverse: cogs and blogs and it's a companion to this here flickrverse site.

My original intent with flickrverse was to write a poem a day and maybe some other stuff that was more typically bloggy. In the course of coming up with flickrverses and exploring the wonderful world of flickr itself, I realized that the randomness (such as this post) may take the focus away from the actual "poetry" (I feel weird using that word for some reason). Sooooo....this is why I made me anudder blog.

So, you can click back and forth between blogs to get more info on a particular flickrverse, on the experience of blogging flickrverses, as well as some more typical bloggy randomness (I promise that I won't post any techie stuff....snore).

Check it out and let me know what you think.

what i need to stop doing

2006-03-11T14:20:00.000-08:00

what i need to stop doing
Originally uploaded by jchavez483.

Lists have a knack
for being annoying.

They seem to exist
to squeeze out
every
ounce
of fun
from my life

Does anyone ever make a list like this?

-smoke pot before parent's arrive
-drink 15 cocktails at xmas party
-try cocaine in public bathroom
-have unprotected sex (again)
-skip work to go shopping

I call that realistic.

I hate myself.

Neglect

2006-03-10T15:49:00.000-08:00

good morning.
Originally uploaded by swissmiss.

There are some things
I cannot abide,

but they are far outweighed
by the shit I put up with

because I am simply
too lazy.

For example,
for weeks I have been negelecting
myself by not taking my insulin.

At the same time, I have obsessed over poetry

and words.

Justin The French Fry (color)(repost)

2006-03-09T19:46:00.000-08:00

Justin The French Fry (color)
Originally uploaded by rev_justin.

My son drew this for me. I just had to post it.

(I actually had the b/w version up earlier, but I f'd it up somehow)

the most realistic photo i've ever taken of my father

2006-03-09T10:32:00.000-08:00

the most realistic photo i've ever taken of my father
Originally uploaded by nicole s.

It has
taken me
this
long

to understand

the inherhant
value

of this chaotic mess
of a
life.

Where is the joy in my restraint?

I am ready
to
let
go
now.

That Bridge

2006-03-08T11:27:00.000-08:00

Passerelle Solférino
Originally uploaded by Hugo
(looking for his pink elephant).

She has a strange attraction to that bridge.

I used to think it was her fondness for
the architecture. She is that kind of bookish girl.

In the mornings, I would call
and let the phone ring ten times,
just like my mother told me.

Call her cell phone, leave a message, fume.
Stomp off to work. Stop for coffee.

The barista says she hasn't been around for several days.

Just last year, we sat stoned and lovely in her room.
She played Janis Joplin on her guitar.
I raved about the Talking Heads.
She ran her wool-socked foot gently up my calf.
I almost died with the sheer joy of the moment.

She showed me her favorite photograph
of that bridge.

Yesterday, I finally went down there to see what
the fuss was all about.

and now I understand.

It's not the bridge,
but who is waiting
under it.

This text was also inspired by
the collective photos of begin the age of love.

.3-sized

2006-03-06T19:40:00.000-08:00

The goal: one poem a day
The reality: 9 poems in 13 days.

Let's see....that works out to...approx. .7 poems per day.

Now if I could just come up with 9 .3-sized poems to cover my butt.

Okay...here goes:

1) Fending off the urge to
2) I haven't seen them anymore
3) Like a yellow whisper on the moon
4) Bump, bump, bump
5)Water
was
a
tree
6) against the smooth tile, she found her only solace.
7) WASABI!!!!
8) Grow with me, grab my binky
9) Smell my hand and tell me what love is

Go ahead and mix and match these .3-sized poems with any of the other poetry you see on flickrverse and we'll just call ourselves even.

Don't go asking me to find .3-sized photos to match. I don't have that much time.

Dallas-Love on a Sunday afternoon

2006-03-05T19:01:00.000-08:00

Dallas Airport Concrete
Originally uploaded by Chris Blanz.

I should be home
getting fat on wine
and routine.
Instead, I have been herded
into lines A then B,
poked and pushed,
overcharged, delayed,
expensed - yadda, yadda, yadda.

Everyone here looks fresh from a porn set, a Republican hootenany, a date rape and/or too many hours at the Nordstrom's make-up counter.

It's hard to feel real here, I guess.

It's supposed to be the great American adventure, right?
Every person is a fascinating story waiting to be told?
Beautiful in their own way?
One of God's children?

The only place I've found God in Dallas-Love
is in the pyramid schemes of the drunks behind me
spouting, "He's a Christain businessman."
He really cares about the people he is stealing from.
At least they got their dog and pony show.

In a land where nothing is sacred, we try to justify our greed
and then jam it down the throats of the unbelievers.
It's because we care.

I just got off the phone with my wife.
In her own way, she forgives me
for leaving
the house
a mess.

*I cheated a little bit on this one. I composed the poem at the airport today and found a pic to match after-the-fact.

Our Own Voices

2006-03-03T13:35:00.000-08:00

Body To Die For
Originally uploaded by you can't see crazy.

In the mornings,
we would fight about all kinds of shit.
None of it was important,
but more often than not
I would arrive at my desk
with a tear-stained face
and a repressed scream
burning
like
heatburn.

Love, at times, is something that dulls the pain
just long enough for forgiveness to come scraping in.
It gives us what we need to center
and move on.
Repeat as needed.

There always is someone inside of you
that will never let you go.
In their heads,
the lucky have voices
that aren't their own.

Submit Your Favorite Flickr Photos!

2006-03-02T10:21:00.000-08:00

I love a challenge, so I think it would be fun to write some flickrverses for requested photos. Here's how it works (a flickr account is required, btw):

Add me, rev_justin, to your Contacts. I swear I won't bite.
Find a picture you like. Anything goes, but I have the right to veto your pick. If I do veto it, I'll let you know why.
Add the picture you want flikrverse'd to your favorites.
Send me a flickrmail with:
- A. The photographer's flickr username
- B. The title of the picture

I expect the turnaround time for my response would be pretty quick for now. This may change in the future as my life changes.

I look forward to your photos!

bored, tired and hungry

2006-03-02T10:05:00.000-08:00

bored, tired and hungry
Originally uploaded by will wade.

The Muzak
is putting me
to sleep,

but the people
all around
are
keeping me awake with their insessant, curious, judging looks

and brutal questions.

That was a while ago

2006-02-26T13:16:00.000-08:00

towards moistness
Originally uploaded by B e r n a.

I sent you an email
after walking home
from the movies
in the rain.

I remember saying something
about
feeling alive.

I haven't heard from you since.

A Handsome Little Housefinch

2006-02-26T13:06:00.000-08:00

A Handsome Little Housefinch
Originally uploaded by Digital Gurl.

The last thing to envy
is a bird.

Yes, they can fly,
but I would bet
they get
pretty
fucking
cold.

Oh mannnnnn.......

2006-02-23T14:42:00.000-08:00

I just discoved that the name flickrverse is quite common on the old internet. I Googled it and came up with more results than I wanted. What I thought was oh-so-clever has already been done and I am just co-opting it.

I would like to state, however, that I belive that I am the only one using it to mean 'flickr inspired poetry'. The others use it to mean the 'universe that is Flickr users'.

So, in some sense I guess I did have an original thought.

Feel free to prove me wrong.

I can take it.

Buddah Nature

2006-02-23T11:52:00.000-08:00

the great buddha
Originally uploaded by lil aNNa.

When asked
"What is God?",
you can always get a
good laugh
or
a strange look
if your answer is
"You are".

It's even better
if you mean it.

Hindsight

2006-02-22T11:36:00.000-08:00

Light Rest Light Breeze
Originally uploaded by Operation Slapstick.

Last summmer, I would say,
we stayed at home
or at least I couldn't remember anything
special.
The house was cold
and we never mowed the lawn.

My daughter is now 8 months old
and, of course,
she is the most beautiful.

I can look back now
and see.

This poem is a threat to the security of the United States

2006-02-22T11:34:00.001-08:00

This shot is a threat to the security of the United States
Originally uploaded by Tampen.

This poem is a threat to the security of the United States

because it is free.

I give it away.
It is for you.

This poem is free
to make the kinds of mistakes
that make the good stuff.

We all can learn a lot from cosmic jokes and cosmic jokers.
We all need to laugh a lot more
and not at the bozos
but with them.

This poem is a threat to the security of the United States
not because it is big,
But because I give it to you

and they can
never
take
it
away.

dicks

2006-02-22T11:34:00.000-08:00

dicks
Originally uploaded by formica.

On the ride home
the french fries
fall
bewteen
my legs
and are sucked into a void
that
lives
beneath
my seat

Allow me to introduce flickrverse

2006-02-22T11:20:00.000-08:00

flickrverse is a personal project of mine that I have undertaken in an effort to get the old creative juices flowing. Here's the idea:

Everyday, I pick a theme. That theme is whatever I want it to be. Then, I go to www.flickr.com and search the photos there and look through the results until I find something that resonates with me. Then, I compose a poem, post it in the comments section, add the photo to my Favorites section, and then add it to this blog.

Feel free to critique what you read.

PS. I will probably also post other random stuff here, too.