Autumn Inklings

Where's The Serpent?

~OR~

How Do You Like THEM Apples?

09.01.14

Bruce At Peace (Among the Beasts)

09.15.14

The Third Ring

08.27.14

Heart Of Gold

09.07.14

Illustrated Gibberhyme (in progress)

(August/September 2013, June/July 2014 - A set of illustrations to go along with a silly bit of rhymey random wordiness...  I think it'll run to about 25 panels, of which I so far have these five seven nine (the rest of the verse follows the posted pictures.)

"Bing bop, wheedle pop,

Zilly zilly shroobadop.

Peepoe wheepoe moosie whipsie,

Beepoe sleepoe hupti-schkiptie.

Croupa jupa diddly-bo,

Meemle creamle feceho.

Wampum boppun, peenie-crotton,

Fissile hishle vixwaco!"

You've Had Your Fun, Now Lie In It! (audio)

(A rough recording of the aforementioned, previously-posted sketch...  Still lots of work to be done.)

1999?

I rolled my secrets

Like cigarettes - unfiltered.

I gave them to people

Who did not smoke,

And was surprised

When they coughed.

Old 'Poetry', part I: Ode To An Unborn Poem (ca. 2000?)

I found this while going through stacks of old papers with scribbled bits on them, mostly dating back to the couple years after high school.  Having just recently read some very good poems by a new friend of mine - they deserve their own linking post, which I'll provide soon - I was inspired to go over the various little morsels of thingies I'd tried my prosy little hands at.  This was the first one that popped up as maybe worth posting...  and also the most 'complete' (only slight editing required, a word or two added/changed here and there).  Enjoy!  (and thanks again, JSM!)

Ode To An Unborn Poem

by Novel Miseries

Hello, my child:

I write this, thinking of you,

Knowing you already -

Through your pulse which fills me

With this sick energy.

Though I do not know who or what you will be,

Only that you gestate inside me -

The product of poor judgment

And a tornado of emotion I can't control.

And that I'll push you out, not because I want to

But because it can be no other way.

I'll tell you sometimes that you were conceived

At the fireplace, in the warm glow of romance -

Other times, that you are the result of rape.

That it was a difficult labor,

So you'd better behave.

I'll threaten you with all the ones that came before you

Aborted in the third stanza,

Ripped from me by the vacuum of my mind,

Emerging a bloody mess of indistinguishable

Conjoined rhyming couplets

And half-formed metaphors -

And with the unworthy efforts of my past,

Torn from journals and discarded,

Burnt in a candle.

Forgotten, except in that dark corner of my heart

Which still aches for all the unborn potentials

And unfulfilled ideas of beauty -

And which hates for the same reasons.

I'll give you all of that

All my pain,

My selfishness and resentment - 

And try to infuse in you

The hope that sometimes seems possible

In those pyrotechnic moments of joy,

All too brief

Where everything comes together.

It may not be enough

But it's all I have.

And so I'll feed you

On strained carats and linguistic formula,

Nurture your growing form,

And carry out my duties to you -

Content in the knowledge

That you will be

Fucked up.

Fucked up -

Just like me.

Two "albums" now posted on ReverbNation!

http://www.reverbnation.com/novelmiseries/album/63292-miscellaneous-interludes-digital

http://www.reverbnation.com/novelmiseries/album/63293-catharsis

I'm in the process of attempting to consolidate all my various digital identities into "Novel Miseries", and simultaneously trying to get all my music and art and whatnot out there and accessible.

Eradicating the Poor

Thought I'd lost the original recording of this, but I found it the other day while sorting through files on the external hard drives.

Mission Statement

Holy Smoke

unfinished drawing ca. 2003

I take exception to being perceived as cynical or curmudgeonly - I'm actually brimming over with idealistic fervor for a Utopia where every human could fulfill the massive potential I see in every person I've ever met. So, being confronted around every corner and on every webpage with the evidence of how crummy things are for so many people, and all of the ways we're selfishly doing ourselves and each other in when it is just - all - so - goddam - UNNECESSARY, that kind of makes me lose my patience with pretty much everyone in society today... Because they're not as filled with righteous outrage about things as I am, or something. It's lonely tilting at windmills all by oneself... but maybe I'm just obstinate and if everyone joined in, I'd be like, "Meh."

It's all so complicated, and you have to take everything into account - but you can't. And we seriously need to get our shit together, and we're not. I will not be Nero fiddling while Rome burns, just because that'll make my life easier.  Also, I don't care particularly for the violin.

No, I, the 'cynical, curmudgeonly' cuckold child of comely, concupiscent, constellatory Cassandra and catch-all cat-call comeback Chicken Little will continue to cry my catechism of calamity and complete consternation at the chaos, collusion, and conspiracy of the carbon-crapping crypto-corporatist control-complex conservative New 3rd World Order closing quickly on a complacently comfortable consumer-culture whose quotidian cares cripple their capability to come together in common cause and cameraderie. A quixotic quest?  Quite. Can I complete it? Coming up with a concatenation of circuituous circumstances in which such an occurance could conceivably be credible is certainly a considerable challenge, even to the colossal cognition of this contrarian.  So, I'm currently gonna call that question as a 'no' - capiche?

However powerless I may be to effect real change, I feel it's my duty to 'witness', so the least you could do is thank me for using up all these thoughts so that you never, ever, have to have them. 

You're welcome.

Sharks in the Deep End of the Pool

(No Swimming)

ca. 2005

It's Only A Paper Door

My take on the whole Sochi thing...  Enjoy!

The Heroic Rescue and Resuscitation of Ancient Pre-Digital Audio Recordings, Part 1

I've got my old 4-track recorder/mixer hooked up to the computer, and am in the process of recording the various tapes I made back in late high school and shortly thereafter.  More bits and pieces to come.