Saturday, January 24, 2009

foodanddrink

as it fills up, the ground floor spills to the weeping iris where an old man is 40 and the child in the back with the lego tower dreams skipping in her tiny shoes is too alive for the world. she's the one with an empty palette, he was the one with the uniform and now he can't hear his wife with the walker when she sits 2 feet away. an alcoholic at the bar, maybe a few. main method of busboy transportation=bike. there's food and wine. i'm a pig sometimes. i can pour 30 glasses and nobody will say a word. i'm learning.
people don't stop. entitlement. unfocused frustration.
the sadness of the confusion of people's anger.
the love in the eyes of one or the juice swimming through the territory.
low and loud conversation everywhere. with foodanddrink.
business, for the hell of it, celebration.
always with the bastards.
terrible people with terrible minds.
glass of whisky to cap the evening.
and some wine to stain tomorrow

Saturday, January 10, 2009

a plate of food

most people are a bunch of words and some bodies.
i can see me that way too.
then somebody gets to working and they become a lot of body (a lot of strength discharged, a lot of skills acquired...) OR a lot of words (selling you this, being nice to you when you spit in my face...) OR a little bit of both or a little of neither.

The focus might become the accomplishment of a task. A duty performed.
a movement from here (|) to here (|).
one feels good moving, discharging, creating, serving, discovering..

but then, who really changes and when? most people just stay the same...a few things change here and there - they talk differently, they discover new things, but ultimately it's just the same old patterns and games. to truly change - that takes serious work, serious discipline...even if it is perhaps a discipline of letting go, shedding, shape-shifting, shift-shaping..

so many patterns in the mind, and they slither around, hiding themselves in new circumstances like snakes in holes. i catch them often and i go at them with more vigor. though sometimes i get low, and i wallow. but part of the trick is avoiding excessive seriousness. then you get jaded and torn up like injecting poison into your veins.


making a plate of food - you get a little patience here, a little urgency there, a little drive and force heated up, a little ice to cool things down, a sprinkle of spice on the edges, a soft center on a bed of something strong.
and a glass of vermilion wine