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Lightning tests?
18:59 May 30 2011
Times Read: 1,028

Check out this newest blog article on Living In The Buff.



Lighting experiments and lightning.

Nothing found in this
04:33 May 30 2011
Times Read: 1,042

I



In his declaration, he astounds

His good intentions, in sucking grounds

Sinking in the depths of watery Earth

A muddy place of death and mirth

As bystanders watch amused

Nothing more.

Bleeding.

Bruised.



Nothing more.



Nothing more.



Trapped by roots, in a sullen town

Too broken for making speech or sound

Trapped between sky and ground

Not a heaven and hell

Just soles and crown

The hard trodden roads

Under street lights shining down



While the rest of life drowns



Heartless life made muddy brown

A soul left lost.

Tied.

Bound.



Weathered.

Tethered.



And there

His report was found



II



He had waited for his day of knowing

A day to reap all he had been sowing



His day for solace and understanding

Nothing special he was demanding

Just answers to his questions

And the fruits of his intentions

To the satisfaction

Of his innate curiosity



Nothing more.



Nothing more.



The why

Especially the why

There was never an answer to the why

And it haunted him

Lurching a black cloud above

On the sunny days

And times of love

Weeping tears and pain

Cold and drowning in this rain

Rolling down his creasing brow

Nothing can change this now



He felt older

Older, not wiser

And left behind

With the broken arrows

Beneath the targets he could not pierce

Each one begging the question



Why?



III



Wistful scrawling

On the wall

Ceiling, floor and down the hall

Symbols, words and statements made

Begging for a barter trade

To make them real once again

Bring them to life was his plan

No breath, no sigh, no blood in vein

No beating heart, no thinking brain



Broken

Beaten

Spirit buried



No more this life

Would make him harried



Left with words and nothing more



Nothing more.



Nothing more.

Enjoy...
22:23 May 21 2011
Times Read: 1,087

Enjoy this for tonight. I'm off to celebrate Morri's birthday on her birthday for the first time, if you can believe it.

Reflections on society...
20:52 May 18 2011
Times Read: 1,103

...people are far too consumed by the profane to pay any notice to the profound.

Not poetic...
15:12 May 15 2011
Times Read: 1,126

...but these are three beautiful women that I had screaming for over an hour....













You can see more at Livinginthebuff.

Someday, I might even be quoted by others. I wonder if they will credit me, or birra.
21:09 May 14 2011
Times Read: 1,151

The goal of perfection has nothing to do with being perfect; it is having the courage to extend who you are beyond the comfortable, to risk failure in an effort to reach a higher level and allow yourself to be human in front of others.



And being human, in the most pure and innate nature of humanity, is complete imperfection.



What people perceive as perfection only exists in finite details and for brief moments in time. When perfection happens, most people are blissfully unaware of the occurrence.

There was a time
15:14 May 12 2011
Times Read: 1,178


There was a time, not long past

When love and loving were sure to last

Warm embraces in the winter chill

A hand in mine; such simple thrill

Dreams kept close to measure time

Racing hearts and arousal's climb

This flower blossom we cut from stem

Like all things in life, would find an end



I had an English teacher in middle school - she was a good teacher and had a passion for the English language. But of all things she taught, only one still stands out in my mind:



"You can write poetry in English, and it can be good, but it will always be limited by the language itself. However, languages derived from latin origins, such as French and Italian, are limitless and ultimately the poetry written in these languages will always be more fruitful and romantic."



I'm not sure I agree with this, at all. I believe poetry is a trigger to imagination and emotion; not the beauty of words in each piece, but the beauty the reader finds within the words. English can be just as romantic. Yes, it can also be vastly more clunky than the smooth vowel sounds and transitions found in French and Italian... but that is sometimes the challenge of it as well - to find not just the right words to rhyme, but the right transitions and rhythm. And of course, still bring out the emotion you hope to capture.



Where true Love burns Desire is Love's pure flame;

It is the reflex of our Earthly frame,

That takes its meaning from the nobler part,

And but translates the language of the heart.



-- Coleridge



I'm still working on my skills in this artistic expression. I used to write in down time when I had drinks and nothing but time on my hands. I felt I was making progress. Those days have been absent for quite some time and as a result, I haven't any effort into fine-tuning my inner voice.



I often hear that men have trouble expressing their emotions. Perhaps that plays into it. So many emotions within and the inability to bring them out; to put them on paper and to make them a tangible thing.



I can only hope I have many more years in me so someday I can find that down time and craft my art purposefully again.



The sense of the world is short,

Long and various the report,

To love and be beloved;

Men and gods have not outlearned it,

And how oft soe'er they've turned it,

'Tis not to be improved.



-- Emerson



Some day, I might be that good. I would become a hermit by a remote lake, but I wouldn't have anywhere to plug in my laptop...

The Feast!
05:00 May 03 2011
Times Read: 1,245

A couple of images I prepared from tonight's photoshoot. I enjoyed this one - K is the model, same one from Morri's journal entry from earlier tonight - she is awesome to work with. Adventurous and fun! I hope everyone enjoys these images as much as I enjoyed making them.