Posts

Showing posts from July, 2011

Back On The Road (PT.5)

Woke up in New Orleans a little hung over, a little hot, on an unfamiliar couch, and felt ready to dig in and explore the city. Feeling quite excited I took a shower, made plans to meet back up with my host later in the day, and set off to relive all the awesomeness I had found in the city on my last trip and find something new. For breakfast I went to Cafe Du Monde in the French Quarter for beignets and chicory coffee. Sure it's a little touristy, but it's super delicious. I found a bench in the shade around Jackson Square, and savored my meal while drinking in the scene. Local artists hang their wears on the wrought iron fence that surounds the park. I checked out their work, and dearly wished I could afford a piece or two. I watched them paint, but I also watched them socialize, critique each others pieces, offering help, and just shooting the shit. The whole vibe inspired me to be creative as well. The town seemed filled with fantastic people. I wanted to be fantastic too.…

The Restless Storm

3am, the witching hour

When self-doubt oozes through
The maze of fissures in my skull
Pickling my brain in the brine of
Stifled fears, shivering in unease
A slow poison that drips down
My nerves in acidic rivulets

I feel myself disintegrating
Explosive protein destruction
My heart, the great betrayer
The fleshy organ, is rotting
The smell: saccharine fermenting
Fills my nostrils with iron and lust

My eyes close to shut out the void
Seemingly safe behind barred lashes
Still, the insides of my eyelids play
All my greatest follies on repeat
My flaws tattooed on cells and fibers
Neurons and retinas dyed scarlet

There are no hands, but
My own to wield weapons
There are no tongues, but
My own to tell lies
There are no beds, but
My own to find respite in

Insomnia, conscious nightmare



Finally found rest round 5am

Switched off to sleep at thunder's clap
A few hours tortured, anxious slumber
Then waking slick with sickly sweat
Like the windows shrouded in fog
Primordial dampness clings t…

Back On The Road (PT.4)

View Larger Map
Woke up feeling awesome and refreshed after a night splurged on a motel room. Took my car to be serviced, and got on the road by 11am. I made good time, flying down a straight west shot of I-10, dodging 18 wheelers while chatting on the phone with dear, and far-flung friends I hadn't been able to catch up with when I was working 60 hour weeks. Thanks to a convenient time zone change, I reached my destination by 4pm.

The only tent-friendly campground near Pensacola was actually in Navarre Beach, one town east. It was expensive, but lovely, a standard private establishment primarily catering to the massive RVs that most Americans do seem to favor over tents. There were clean showers, a pool, a dock, and a water front visible from my spot. I even had my own water spigot and electrical outlet. It was strangely and laughably ritzy compared to the rustic public campgrounds I usually frequent. I decided to settle in and get my full pleasure out of it. Made camp, left some …

Back On The Road (PT.3)

View Larger Map
I try and give my road trips a rough outline as to route and schedule, but I also like to leave a good amount of room for alternative plans. Sometimes I just wake up, and realize I'm done with a place. It doesn't feel right, and it's time to move on. When I'm at home I can't indulge in these sorts of impetuous moods, but on the road I can blow with my whims. Tuesday, I woke up and felt antsy. Something was wrong with the atmosphere, a storm was brewing, and I could tell it was time to move. I packed up, said goodbye, bought a few provisions, and headed south for the Florida Keys.

I drove from Miami all the way to Key West without stopping. It was a beautiful drive, all clearing skies, iridescent waves, and island adventure. Have you ever visited a chain of islands and longingly started out as they receded into ever smaller gems? Perhaps it fills you with a strong and unrequited emotion? You want to follow the islands, but lack a boat, and a boat would…

Reflections on The Endless Summer in September

After months on the north country’s roads
A mad dash westward to chase the sunset
Finally home and settled in the dawn lands
Settled in the hometown, main street, swing of things
Comfortable routine of things, familiar since childhood

Living like I’ll never have to grow up
Reveling in the freedom of free time
To drink with friends until the sun rises
To run the streets and play the woods
To hear east coast sounds, cricket calls
To break bread at my father’s table
Living like the long summer evenings of when I was five
Living like the late starry nights of when I was nineteen

Youthful adventure in perpetual timelessness
Even now as I write this in weekday afternoon leisure
Feet dangling in the white clay creek
Dusty sneakers to my right
Patched backpack to my left
Still scribbling away in a journal
Cradled in the crook of a tree
As I was taught in fourth grade

Sit, write, think, sit, write, think
Reminiscing on the trails of June conquered
Rocky mountains climbed, deserts discovered
Tundra traversed, high sea…

Back On The Road (PT.2)

I wrote all day Sunday. It just flowed out of me. I was like a woman possessed. Carlos had gone home for the week, and given me the keys to his dorm room. I sat basking in the chilly air conditioning of his tiled, efficient room, feeling like an impostor student and shut-in, but mostly reveling in the freedom of typing away. The writers block that had caged me for the last several months seemed to have blown away like a bad storm and been replaced by endless rays of light. Thank you unemployment, random adventure, and hours of mindless driving. Success!

In the evening I had planned to meet up with Carlos at his parent's place in downtown Miami. Around 8pm, he called me with the simple enigmatic message to come on down, leave my car with the valet, prepare for a nice dinner at 10pm, and not worry about money. Confused and amused, I met him at his parent's posh new condo, past modern art and fountains, halfway up to the 16th floor. There among the cities' high-rise lights by …