Phil’s art and my art

my world

I love Rory

finding me–9/2009

Real life

Today

Real life
A series of questions
What should we do, how much, WHEN? AHHGHGHHH
IN our world where life is just a flow, we shouldn’t have to address these questions, responsibility weaves through
mold responsibilities to meet flow, then you’ve achieved Enlightenment
A feast
The flow is what’s closest to your heart
what means a lot to you
MUSIC
FEELS GOOD
MUSIC 
FEELS GOOD
FOOD
FEELS GOOD
biologically, I need food.
everything else is meaningless, not important
We focus on HOW to be in the flow, but we don’t just be in the Flow.
The flow
Go with the flow
cliche
That’s so cliche!
What’s the point of being so accusatory, labeling, next thing, next thing
Schedules, life scheduled
life centered around schedule, what do I have to do at 5:30?
When the fuck is 5:30?
Why the fuck do I have to be anywhere anytime, 530 530 FUCK 530 FUCK 530 FUCK 530 530530530530530503030305305000500000000000003330303030303035050503053053053053050350350305305035030530503053053050350350
The fucking moment
standing outside the library
couldn’t go in, I’d make a fool out of myself
a foool
but shit, I had a moment
I was waiting….waiting waiting waiting waiting
FOR WHAT?
all of a sudden, my life became completely utterly TOTALLY involved in the moment of waiting WAITING for friends to emerge from Sternfuck libary
What the fuck was I waiting for?
That was my life
nothing else was important
SO I REALIZED
why cant I fucking LIVE THIS LIVING
why do I have to LIVE THIS WAITING
life doesn’t have to be on a constant schedule, with stops and times TIME DOESNT FUCKING EXIST
life is a fucking cliche,a fucking flow
a cycle
walking around to picnic point to memorial union POINT, UNION POINT, dhjksadhashjd in a cycle
COLTRANE
life is always in motion, can’t let schedule preoccupy us, can’t let schedule, can’t let agenda, can’t let WHAT WE HAVE TO DO undermine WHAT WE’RE DOING
cliche is true
it’s a cliche for a reason
Catch yourself
Catch yourself, your self-conscious self
I can’t be this way, I have to be this way, Why can’t you be this way
Phil Musen, Phil Musen, Phil Musen
John Coltrane, Bob Dylan, Uhhhhhhhhh say it

you cant let your schedule get in the way of who you are, the flow, who you are, the flow, who you are is the flow
energy is what derives entire personality, business is who you are, what you’re doing

Sacred flow
sacred flow
no no no, class at 8, party at 9….NO NON ONO
the flow.
indescribable, natural flow
a cycle
from the union
to picnic point
indescribable, natural flow
cliche, circle cliche circle cliche cirlce cliche circle appreciate how my fingers are dancing around the keys in circles cliches circles cliches circlesclchresljcirclescirlwiclcclicjeshclieiRHYTHM
MUSICrhythm, pulse, natural pulse
heartbeat BADUM MOTHAFUCKA
so natural, music so natural, pulse, heartbeat DADUMDADUMDADUMDADUM
circles cliches rhthm pulse beat DADUMDAUDAUMDAUDMAUDAMDUDM
thinking in cliches
cliche is who I am
I am a cliche
I am a cliche 
I am a cliche
I am a cliche 
I am a cliche
acid………………………….
changed my life

Sarah Palin 2012

 

An old dream

I run towards the portal,

its perimeter glowing white,

dive head first and sink

into a landscape of simple

shapes and empty space,

finding shelter in fresh water,

where a freckled swimmer

greets me with a slippery kiss.

necklace of love

Slam a book

on the floor

to test my

new ears,

and the pages

crumple

in slow motion.

I know why

my dog

used to avoid

my amplifier.

My teeth chatter

to a lost

tempo

as I stretch my neck

toward my legs,

hang my head

and bathe

in my crotch’s

salty fumes

A drunken shout

from next door

stamps my eardrums

with a generic

ink design,

and in one minute’s

eternity,

I puzzle over the embers

of a

tired thought’s explosion.

Thriving in the stillness,

the beat

finally agrees with

a photograph of

me and Rory,

a flash of true expressions,

lying face-up

on my cluttered desk.

my poems

wind stretches its vocal chords

and gives Mendota the guts

to dance with the ducks

winter’s scab gone, mercury’s splash

vibrates, resonates, moves my pen

—

it saturates the ground

and seeps through the floor

into my body and out my eyes

I can’t leave, I can’t leave

thirteen hours pass

I can’t leave, I can’t leave

7,000 dollars in debt

—

muddy noise

up and down

wet vacuum

SLURP

we are vermin in private

and we sleep, wake up

to newspapers telling stories

of little boys battling with their DICKS

in public

—

nightmare’s prisoner

reflection slips, father’s fist

infinite fall

collecting tears, cool and salty

unconscious fears bleeding her brain

haunting her veins, so

fingers tremble, dead eyes meet knees

I know he still loves me

I know it, I know it

—

impress my libido

with a string of kisses

from forehead to foreskin

tugging close my conscience and its nemesis

quick jerks

spit drips

to the pheremone forest

at the base of my desires

Yeah, I feel your metal teeth

misty throat, eyes meet

Oh baby, I wanna accelerate

but your frozen tongue fires cannonballs

through my blood.

This old fucking mildew-infested Toyota Camry

deserves a funeral,

but instead, we warrant our own.

You lick the cum from your lower lip,

and we smile in unison.

—

curious thoughts

plowed, digested, regurgitated

without consideration

conditioning fear

—

It’s never been this long

now, they are only voices and thoughts

never faces, never flesh on flesh

the death of emotion!

what is your face doing? my blind thoughts scream

and the crumbling projection of zombie mom

sends a quiver

—

I am pooping in the stall at the end of the row in the union bathroom

and FUCK, a body just inhabited the stall to the left of mine.

Why did he choose that one?

There’s eight fucking empty stalls in this place.

Adidas kicks and the bottom six

inches of a pair of ruffled khakis

stare me down as I exhaust my bowels.

Across the divider,

a loogey is honked

a fart is expelled

and Adidas punts it to my side,

into my nostrils, through my throat,

where it festers my taste buds.

—

Richard Davis Speaks: The Real Sounds of Jazz

Professor Richard Davis, UW-Madison jazz history

compiled by Ben Schapiro and Martin Potter

“Who’s your boyfriend?”

Student: I don’t have one.

“It’s ’cause you can’t shake your ass!  ‘Cause you can’t dance!”

“I know you better than you know yourself.”

“I have two names around here:  Asshole and God.  Which one do you want?”

“Will you shut the fuck up?”

“Walk down the street on the offbeat, and you’ll get arrested.”  (if you’re black)

“You know what a blowjob is?”

Foreign kid: I think so?

“You think so?  You think so?”

“I’m serious as two motherfuckers.”

“That’s five people.  That’s 1/20th of the class.”  (there are 25 kids in the class)

“You’re a lot of fun.  That’s why I like to fuck with you.”

“Where’s my bullshit can?”  (threatens to spray bullshitting kid)

“’Do not look a white woman in the eye.’  Now I’m lookin’ at ‘em all the time!”

“I am crazy—crazy ’bout my life!”

“How’s your mother doing, motherfucker?”

“Shut up and play the fucking piano.”

“You say :36 past?  We used to say :36 past the monkey’s ass.”

“You go to school the next day, and you cool as two motherfuckers.”  (talking about his hair style when he was a kid.  He ripped his mother’s panty hose, put it on his head, and wrapped a quarter in there to make it nice and tight)

“Told you I’m watchin’ yo’ ass.”

“That’s too loud and abrasive.  Nobody’s gonna wanna take you in the bedroom.”

Richard’s phone conversations with jazz musicians:

“The time it will take you to hang up this phone is too long.  BYE MOTHERFUCKER.”

“Don’t you ever again call this number and tell me some dumbass shit.  GET THE FUCK OFF THE PHONE.”

“White folks don’t know what the fuck they’re eating.”

“That is some slick shit.”

“My mother would slap somebody across the head with an axe if they called me Richy.”

“I’m serious as TWO motherfuckas!”

“Fuck ‘em up with the Dorians and the Morians and the Lydians and the Trydians.”

“And what he thought was going to be a fart, was a…shart.”

“Have you ever tried polishing a turd?  You can’t do it!”

“Anybody know what a quickie is?”

“They’ve got juices, luices, mooses….”

“Jackin’ off with a pencil.”

“You see…Beethoven was really two motherfuckers.”

“He slaps, he raps, he snaps, he laps….”

“Ever told you how I slept with a nun?”

“I told you ’bout the time I had the syphyllus, didn’t I?”

“If you just want a piece of pussy, then cut your dick off.”

“Seek satisfaction in what you have, not what you don’t have.” 

“You’ll think about it?  What kind of shit is that?”

“Are you in the little big band or the little band?”

“I like to get a reaction.”

“In 1852, there was an outbreak of slave disease.  Something was causing all of them to run away!”

“If you’re white, you’re alright. If you’re yellow, you’re mellow.  If you’re brown, stick around. If you’re black, stay back.”

“The blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice, but if you’re black as you, it ain’t no use.”

“When you eating grits, you don’t care who cook ‘em.”

“You’re too loud!  Ain’t nobody gonna want to take you to the bedroom!”

“Well, fh… sorry, I was getting ready to say fuck!”

“I’m gonna feed all them females.”

“You ever tried polishing a turd?”

“I don’t care what kind of school you’re in—high, low, fat, skinny, medium…”

“They’re really saying get whitey, get whitey.  That’s why white folks scared of the drums.”

“White folks don’t know what the fuck they’re eating, but they don’t want to be considered racist.”

“I got spies all over the place.  Don’t do nothin’ wrong. (points) You clean?”

“There’s no final in this class—final means you’re dead.”

“If you hang out with me, you’re gonna hear a lot about racism.  I won’t take you to bed until you understand.  I knew I had the upper hand because she was after my ass.”

“Guess who I was in the bed with last night?  She didn’t want to leave.  See, you got to tell them how it is.  Dumb-ass motherfuckers.”

“Now we’re getting down to the bottom.  You ever been so sick you don’t know which end to put in the toilet first?”

“Find satisfaction in what you have, not what you don’t have.”

“She was a little bit AC/DC.” (Bessie Smith was bisexual)

“You see, you gotta learn to out-junk the junkie.”

“You know where Pittsburgh is?  Pittsburgh: anywhere you gotta take a piss!”

“I’m a protecter of females.”

“Scratch this number out of your phone book, and don’t call me ever again, dumbass motherfucker.”

“Watch what she does with this motherfucker…here we go…seatbelts.”

“They asked me what I did, I told them I was the janitor in the Humanities building.”

“The janitor might be morally superior to Bill Clinton.  He wasn’t caught with somebody sucking on his dick in the basement!”

“Urban renewal?  I call it Urban Removal.  It’s called: let’s get rid of black people.”