My Apple Buzz
Category: Writing and Poetry

My Apple Buzz

9:17 PM - 8 Comments - 16 Kudos - Add Comment

There is No Such Thing as a Happy Medium
Category: Art and Photography

There is No Such Thing as a Happy Medium...

12:01 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Another Rung Up the Ladder of World Domination
Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities

    This week I'm featured in the "What I'm Into" section of the Rochester Insider.
Here's the link to the digital version - Ali Insider
                                                                 and the hard copy comes out on Friday


    Despite my impending fame, finals are still next week, my boss is still mean, and my laundry needs to get done, so I can't really hang around dispensing eccentric wisdom and the bizarre strings of words I call poetry.

...BUT as soon as finals are over-
Whoa buddy, you better watch out!

Currently reading : Myths to Live By By Joseph Campbell Release date: 01 February, 1993

9:56 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Perpetual Reflection
Category: Religion and Philosophy

Perpetual Reflection

     Imagine what it might be like to be eternally alive. To have a taste of all that there could ever be to taste. We could run for no reason, like hamster gods on a wheel-shaped universe.
   
      We'd experience everything, and then experience more everything, but it would still be that same old everything.
      We would meet everyone, and then we'd find out how lame everyone is when you have to spend forever with them, but we'd love everyone despite their lameness. We'd have to love them; everyone would be all we had to love.
      All our buildings would be destroyed and rebuilt in never ending wars over forgotten indiscretions. All of the stories would get told and retold.
     We might write lists of all that we create and try, so that a thousand years down the road we could remember things like how to make perfect flan, and answer questions like 'Why don't we split atoms?'   
      We might get debaucherous or lazy. We might get crazy and build a tower to some sort of god equipped with the power to make eternity stop. We might try and talk to life forms on other hamster universes, just to see if they are in the same predicament we are in.
      If there were no end to existence we would run out of things to do, and say. History would become boring and even debauchery would become boring. Boring would become boring.
     We would start to seek nothing, the last and only frontier. Not the regular kind of nothing, but the hole of nothing.
        The word 'nothing' fails to describe the kind of nothing that we would seek.
     Person by person we would slowly lay down to concentrate our universe into non-existence, one small piece of it at time. We would not rest until every single one of us was focused on doing nothing and being nothing.
     We could be peaceful in the land of eternal nothing, until the thought of it started everything once again

11:29 AM - 4 Comments - 7 Kudos - Add Comment

Pretty Shards of Ugly
Category: Writing and Poetry

Day 1
(again)

 

8:21 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Three-Day Ugly - What is the problem?
Category: Writing and Poetry

Day 1 (much later)
(What is the problem?)

     It's these scummy, fake people that are the problem. How can I compete with someone who isn't even real?

Dress-Up

Perfection and simplicity
The obvious mystery
Oblivious secrecy
The doll's mind's mind in duality

Can't speak stupid
'cause she dumb
Can't feel your hands on
 Her
skin is numb

Curly, girly pink-nailed curse
Tucks her world inside her purse

Dyes her face
Red and white
Hopes the make-up
Lasts all night

Doesn't read
Won't spell
Open legs
Open hell

Is she a walking suicide?
Is this porcelain mask
                           alive inside?

Or is she thinking in abstraction
About a way too real attraction
If again
 she lets us dress her reaction
will it be a fashion
                                 infraction?

     The problem is this city. This goddamn Gotham I live in. How can anyone eke out an existence in a place so gray?

Sprawl


against the giant's
 urban maw
Stacked in shelters
High rise overlooks
Wastelands of civilization
Strong and vulnerable
like
 summer flowers
unstoppable
lava from a volcanic
 mother
forces
Drags us outside
As she once pushed us in

many sparkling devils
Dance on my head
 In figments of raindrops
Splattered chaos
seems like omens
Foreboding rolling
Over assumed permanency
Bearing soil gifts
rich foliage
For wilted heated
Still portentous
Violet sunset at skyline

but these seasons in the city
I've learned to love
Like a pet that was once a stray
When it's more than gasoline rainbows
the smell of rain on hot asphalt
can rival the taste of fresh air

     It's this country. It must be this forsaken, stolen soil.
     I saw a virtual representation of President Bush's colon on the six-thirty news. There is something seriously wrong with America.

The Cost of Inflation

Beware the boogiemen that drain us
When the pursuit of happiness
Becomes a fight to be alive
 we should not rest on
The poverty of those born poor
And the silencing of the sexual
 the death of creativity
They tell me what freedom is
then don't let me speak it

They called us
Dr, Frankenstein
Piecing together random parts
Of dead ideals
Presenting them loudly
I mean megaphone sized screams
They told us to shut up
And back down
And to stop being smart
Where they taught us not be

Let them call us monster makers
That is the cost of dissent
There is no hell
Worse than the one they made
When they tried to sell
Every piece of our soul
To the hanged man's noose

They don't care that that most will die needing
They believe that love is
A Family Circus cartoon
With a dog and a house
In a little balloon
They are all old greedy men
 With old greedy dreams
Eyes closed so tight that they are only wrinkles

You
Open your wrinkles
You
button up and sit down
You can't rule humanity
Anymore than you can own me
You can put price on a life
Like a piece of meat
But you can't outbid
These bags of bones

If everyone recycled all of our problem would go away…

6:16 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

The Three-Day Ugly- Pop Quiz
Category: Writing and Poetry

Let see if you can match these reasons why I'm single to who said them.

A. My Mom
B. My Best Girl-fiend
C. My Brother
D. My Best Guy-friend
F. My Roommate


    
    1. "Your signals fire off at random, so no one has any idea how you feel about anything, ever."

2. "You are stubborn
(* stub·born adj
1.    Unreasonably and obstructively determined to persevere or prevail
2.    Carried out in a determined, persistent way
3.    Difficult to remove or deal with)
and stupid,
(* stu·pid adj
1.    Thought to show a lack of intelligence, perception, or common sense
2.    Irritatingly silly or time-wasting
3.    In a dazed state, for example, from shock, fatigue, or from the effects of drugs or alcohol)
like a boy.
(*boy n
1.    A young male person
2.    Somebody's male child
3.    A man who is regarded as immature or inexperienced, especially a young man)

3. You're a miserable &%$.

4.You just have a hard time finding someone you're compatible with. You need a soul mate.

5. You're a miserable &%$.


The person with the most correct answers gets a cookie.




Now that we've covered my ugly, let's move on to yours...




 


* Encarta® World English Dictionary © 1999 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved. Developed for Microsoft by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc.

 

6:50 AM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

The Three-Day Ugly - On the cusp of something that might resemble love
Category: Writing and Poetry

Day 1
(on the cusp of something that might resemble love)

    I absolutely want to be in love. Who doesn't want that giddy wild feeling of falling in love? It's been so long, and I've grown so bitter and angsty about it that I'm tired of myself.
    It's that constant whiney voice in my head, "There is something wrong with me if I can't find a single dateable person in a city with over a million people in it."


Let's Run Through This Part


I cannot unwind until I am
foolish happy
love soaked
in a
complex
personality

I can be
Real
Cold
Subtle
Edgy
Effacing security

always betraying
how I am
supposed to read
cast lines
and
cue cards

I've been
given the gift of silent stubborn
until devoured by your eyes

Maybe
I wont
this time

I want
You
who will
stand up
and
stare down

Since
the last line
is reserved
for the one
who speaks it


I want
You
who will
converse
in unrehearsed
clarity

    

   As far as dating goes I have a reputation for being the 'Queen of Cold'.
     I wasn't surprised to find that out.
    My theory is, single people suck, that's why they are single. Someone would be dating them if they didn't suck.


Sticky


My head and my bed are both tacky from this fucking sweat
So, I'll swallow a smoke puff and stare at the corner cobwebs
This is bad sex and bad short fiction
 this whole situation is slinking out the window in the shape of
 crocodile irony's skin shed and false sobs

Just when I think it's over
you write another fifteen minutes of
how life is the short breaks between long suffering

Are you out there
 Trapping another girl on twin-bed sheets
Talking about the thousands of
miles of
 road between here and Capitol City
I can tell you that she's probably smoking and watching the spiders
 spinning
Your never-ending memories
 
I hope that these words do not fall upon your ears and shatter
There is no proof
that this life is any more or less real than the dragons you've long been chasing
I'm done wading through the blood of
their slaying

    The problem is when I do find someone that I might be interested in it gets confusing and awkward. I know it's got to be my issues, because it's always like this.
       

8:53 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

The Three-Day Ugly (Day 1)

I Have  died and lived in twenty-four hours.    
My friends have you ever had a day
That was  
Three days long?


Day 1

(Introductions)



Three-Day Ugly

Nothing
I mean
Nothing

Can ever be in balance
I juggle life
In pre-weighed containment balls
I still drop

Trust me
I can't help
It if I make you
Open
Usually

Trust me
This art
Pays for itself
In one night
and

 I am on
A bad binge
A three-day-ugly
where
No good can of
Rolling loose balls


     I have a lot of nervous habits, smoking, tapping my pen, playing with things in my hands, and occasionally I twitch. I am impatient, and I like to be punctual. I overanalyze everything I read, see, and hear.
     Anxiety is not necessarily a bad thing; nervous people can make it far in life on their fear of failure.



A little

With this weakness
I tried to be a better person
A little bit better of a human
Every day when I woke up
I drank my coffee out of different cups
It always tasted the same old mud
But every time I spoke
I tried
To speak with a little more wisdom
when I cried each time it was
One tear less
Because I believe all the stories
Of how we are poor flesh dolls
On marionette strings

Then, I read my own book
all that I wrote for myself
like taming a wild creature
getting those words on blank pages
rapture and descending
with one wing of feathers
and one wing of scales

at least I tried to be a better writer
capturing pieces of my soul heresy
always in the invisible lines
weaknesses
split like an equator
at splendor
and naked justice


                    To be continued…

8:28 AM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Nocturnal Loop
Category: Writing and Poetry

Nocturnal Loop

If you gave to me a night
 like the one before I met you
I would sit at your feet
 begging some wicked mercy
Defeat never seemed such a luxury
the desire of an empty book
with no pages written for me
Before there were
only small blanks to

fill you in
Like the star's light in dark caverns
at the end of the longest tunnels

I would tear down the world for you
I would rip into the earth and die digging

Should I find you in the black hole
suffering torment beyond imagination
It would still be rapture sweeter than no other
Brighter than the sun at noon
For at least I will have found you  
as real as we once portrayed

That's I why I say you must
Give me a day like the one before I lost you
an innocent living moment
that will never slip from me

When you turned away
you said I could never feel
how you feel
or love how you love
But you have to know me now
Reaching for you in the abyss
A string of
pinholes on the silken black sheet of midnight

Currently reading : Mankind Evolving: The Evolution of the Human Species By Theodosius Dobzhansky Release date: 1965

9:27 PM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment