Day: December 15, 2005

Half Nekkid Nutkin

elvis23 Comments

Hiromi, that perpetually half-nekkid tart, just reminded me it’s Thursday. I’m not in a particularly half-naked mood, but you know, you start someon – uh, someTHING, you need to finish. Thus – this is my second tattoo, on the back of my left shoulder (Yeah this is reversed, shot in a mirror and I didn’t […]

Hiromi, that perpetually half-nekkid tart, just reminded me it’s Thursday.

I’m not in a particularly half-naked mood, but you know, you start someon – uh, someTHING, you need to finish.

Thus – this is my second tattoo, on the back of my left shoulder (Yeah this is reversed, shot in a mirror and I didn’t bother to flip it).

You might not be able to tell what it is; it’s old and faded and blurred, not that well done to begin with (By Pinky Yuen in San Jose). I’ve had sex with people younger than this tattoo. But for reference, here’s where it came from.

Nutkin-4

(click to see that bigger)

Who Killed Rudolph?

elvis1 Comment

My boss (Actually my director) Jeff just walked into my office and showed me this. ORLANDO, Fla. — A holiday display is getting some negative attention from neighbors. A homeowner’s display in the Hunter’s Creek subdivision features Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer hanging from a tree. That’s just too cool for words.

My boss (Actually my director) Jeff just walked into my office and showed me this.

ORLANDO, Fla. — A holiday display is getting some negative attention from neighbors. A homeowner’s display in the Hunter’s Creek subdivision features Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer hanging from a tree.

That’s just too cool for words.

I struggle with words for fear that they’ll hear

elvis1 Comment

This is what happens to me when I’m in that emotional, unable to express myself state. When the poet in me wakes up tries to claw it’s way out. That poet has no means of egress; on my best day I am a writer of decent prose, but poetry eludes me completely. Yet what I […]

This is what happens to me when I’m in that emotional, unable to express myself state. When the poet in me wakes up tries to claw it’s way out. That poet has no means of egress; on my best day I am a writer of decent prose, but poetry eludes me completely.

Yet what I feel, some days, can only be rendered correctly in poetry; and thus I wind up seeking the words of others to express what’s inside.

I haven’t heard this song in years – and just reading the lyrics I remember why it almost brings me to tears every time I hear it.

Standing firm on this stony ground
The wind blows hard
Pulls these clothes around
I harbour all the same worries as most
The temptations to leave or to give up the ghost
I wrestle with an outlook on life
That shifts between darkness and shadowy light
I struggle with words for fear that they’ll hear
But Orpheus sleeps on his back still dead to the world
Sunlight falls, my wings open wide
There’s a beauty here I cannot deny
And bottles that tumble and crash on the stairs
Are just so many people I knew never cared
Down below on the wreck of the ship
Are a stronghold of pleasures I couldn’t regret
But the baggage is swallowed up by the tide
As Orpheus keeps to his promise and stays by my side
Tell me, I’ve still a lot to learn
Understand, these fires never stop
Believe me, when this joke is tired of laughing
I will hear the promise of my Orpheus sing
Sleepers sleep as we row the boat
Just you the weather and I gave up hope
But all of the hurdles that fell in our laps
Were fuel for the fire and straw for our backs
Still the voices have stories to tell
Of the power struggles in heaven and hell
But we feel secure against such mighty dreams
As Orpheus sings of the promise tomorrow may bring
Tell me, I’ve still a lot to learn
Understand, these fires never stop
Please believe, when this joke is tired of laughing
I will hear the promise of my Orpheus sing

     –David Sylvian, Orpheus