bellows

my lungs are the bellows that fan the flames of Hell, my heart the eternal flames soothing the hand-wringing anxiousness of its demons. yet, the eternal angel of hope continues to rise from the ashes of all this fire. she ignites my heart in a way all of Hell's flames cannot. I exhale with the fear of smoldering her delicate wings and tender voice. her delicate, yet confident touch echo me back to a resplendent existence above the flames. I awake from the fanciful journey of dreams to find that she is nothing but a specter of my mind. she is a figment. she is a fantasy. reality is still filled with endless horizons of flame and disgust, a panoramic view of Hell from the center, crying out from the absolution of convictions that sit atop a throne far away from these flames, this smoke, this desolation. but to touch that light and airy seat is but a conflagrated vision, a dream set upon the tongue tips of flame reaching up towards heavens unknown. and she insistently flutters there, out of reach, as long as I continue to wade through the fire without realizing my potential to skate above its reach. so I remain.
my lungs are the bellows that fan the flames of Hell, my heart the eternal flames soothing the sad, prayer-filled admonishments of its demons and tortured souls. flailing towards and indyllized point in the sky of salvation. a place that pines for love, but is ensconced in the very belly of hate and emotional dissection. plying the very sympathies of those without care to climb out of the pits of despair and loneliness, only to find that the journey upwards is complicated by sn eternity of steps; an endless series of motions towards an unattainable goal;.

Just Another Way To Say...

...Shit is funky! For some reason, unbeknownst to me, I've been listening to Cypress Hill's first LP a lot lately. It is straight up funky ass shit. Prince Paul taught DJ Muggs well and it shows on this record. There's no need for me to expound upon some extrapolated philosophical ideas about this album, other than to say what I already have: this is one funky ass album. It's full of great samples and memorable potheaded lyrics, mixed with a South Central LA gangster ethos. I guess my real point here is that this is an album with real staying power, given that I'm still rockin' it 16 years after I first heard it. Anyways, I think that if you're sitting at home struggling with what to listen to and you love HipHop, then maybe just throw this gem on one more time and kick back with a fat doobie and enjoy!

a new poem

frayed thread
{10.07.09}

I strain and dream
of talking to people I know
in environments, or situations,
unnatural, untenable fits
to who they are.
shifting and pondering fantasy
through different threaded layers
of reality
I deposit secrets in innumerable
hidden Pandora's Boxes
through universes increasingly
confused in the potential
for existence
I laminate the remnants
of my ideas of love
and slip them under the doors of
neighbors I've never had
hoping that some day
I may awake to find
them returned to me
as an alarming signal
that the dream, the idyll
can actually be tempered
by the tactility of realization

Prince Howard

Just thought this was noteworthy. Prince Fielder (my new favorite non-Red Sox player) and Ryan Howard both hit their 42nd homers last night, both going to the opposite field on ridiculous pitches. These dudes are serious fuckin' hitters. Fielder hit a pitch that almost woulda been in a right-handed hitter's ear to send Bernie Brewer down the slide. Howard cranked a down and away pitch where only Miami Dolphin fans seem to buy tickets. Fat kids are pretty cool.

Monday's Poem: Orion Watches

Orion Watches
{09.20.09}

Orion hangs high above me
flirting with the horizon
of a hill
huge, like a god's eye
looming and leering

as if watching over me
in its brilliance this night
and I laugh at myself

the farcical notion
that a cluster of stars
spaced by thousands of light years
from each other and
millions from me
would throw a care
across the cosmos for
a miniscule being
such as myself.

but the hope
is part of the light
continuously bouncing
back and forth
between us, so
I keep imagining
with feigned naivete
that Orion watches over me.

Princely Dreams

Buster Olney, over at ESPN, speculates that Prince Fielder may be traded away from Milwaukee by the start of next season and I have to say that in my greediest moments, I would love to see that dude in a Red Sox uniform. With his insane left-handed power, he could do some serious Fenway damage. If not that scenario, then he is surely welcome here in Seattle, where I could go watch him every week.

Dice-K's Return

Let's have a little live blogging on this game, shall we?
Oh sweet! A leadoff walk to Chone Figgins and the Dicey fucker only took 7 pitches to do it.

Figgins steals 2nd, one out. Ooh, Abreu flies out and we have 2 down...there's hope yet, because he only has to deal with Bad Vlad. Wow, Dice-Fillet gets Vlad to ground out and only needed 18 pitches to get out of the first. Matsuzaka must feel like he just scaled Everest in a lazy afternoon hike. I mean, he only went to full counts on 2 of the 4 batters he faced.

By the way, I'm only commenting on my hate for Dice-K during this post. I wanna enjoy the rest of the game.

Top 2nd: Okay, I bitch about Dice's pitch count, but it did take John Lackey 23 tosses to get out of the 1st, sooooooo.

He gets Hunter out on 2 pitches! Things are lookin' up. Holy SHIT!!! Inning over in just 7 pitches. Are we sure this isn't a Dice-K replicant controlled by the ghosts of Hideo Nomo past??? And he's got a no-no through two (I know this is sacrilege and against the unwritten rules, but come on, it's Matsuzaka we're talkin' about here, he'll labor to stay under 100 pitches by the 6th...).

Top 3rd: First up is Eric Aybar. Dice's first offering to Aybar is about 8 inches outside. That's my boy!! Again, I shut my mouth, as Aybar pops out on 3 pitches. Seven straight retired. Jeff Mathis strikes out!!! This is getting tasty. Back to Figgins now, maybe he can walk him again. Oh damn, I be a soothsayer as Figgins-Newtons is on 1st after a free pass. Yeah, Figgy really is someone to cower from while on the mound. Why don't you go ahead and put a speedy base-stealer on two straight times. Well, at least Maicer Izturis is good at flying out to Drew to close out the inning. I guess Dice just bothers me with that look of "I don't have the drive to do anything." I mean, at least Kaz Sasaki broke himself out of the game while drunk, but Dice-K is just a Nietzsche passage away from slumping into a puddle of ennui and slinking into a dark corner forever.

Top 4th: Sadly, my man Ellsbury was thrown out trying to steal 2nd last inning. Oh well, at least Dice just struck out Bobby Abreu (who I've always thought would look nice in a garbage compactor, since his days with the Jankees). Even after 50 pitches (halfway through Hunter's at-bat), Dice still only throws strikes 50% of the time. Hunter pops out, no-no through 4. One nice thing? Lackey's had to throw more pitches than Matsuzaka. This is certainly an alternate reality moment.

Top 5th: On a hanging breaker, Dice gifts Morales with something to smack for a single. No more no-no. Rivera flies out, but Aybar gets the second hit of the inning (and the game) for the Angels to move Morales to 3rd. Gettin' scary. And Aybar steals second. Looks as though Dice-K doesn't care about that, specially since he likes having the bases drunk, so maybe he'll walk Mathis just to get comfortable...oop, nope, Mathis strikes out swinging. Wait! With Figgins up, he will be able to fill the bags with 2 out. Yippee!! Wow, Figgy strikes out and Dice is out of the 5th after just 72 pitches (usually a 3 inning count for him). Now if only the offense could give him some support.

Top 6th: With one out, Abreu doubles...God I hate that guy. That little self-congratulatory clap and grin that he pulled into second with makes me want to take a cheese-grater to his face (I need psychological help, maybe...or maybe everybody feels this way about Abreu). Bad Vlad's up! Out on strikes and then Hunter lines out to Peppah (Mike Lowell, for those of you not in the know). And who's that Terry Francona plain-clothes look-alike in the Sox dugout over the right shoulder of Dave Magadan??

Bot. 6th: Okay, that bunt single by Ells was the shit! I love how freakin' fast he is. And then Pedey bunts 'em up and the error on Lackey's throw make it 1-0!!!! Bay walks, bases chucked and Big Papi comin' up!!! Holy 2004 version of the Large Father!! Sox up 2-0.

Top 7th: Alright, got some mac n cheese and about to have to get ready for work, but let's see what's cookin in the 7th. Dice back out there with plenty of pitches to go, I guess. Get that bullpen warm boys! I was right. Morales walks and in comes Ramirez. This will end my Dice-hate-fest online for the night as I have to get ready to go sling beer to all you fools.