Give it over
Every secret pearl
On yer shoulder
The wait of the world
Plastic stranger
Burning in the sand
Hidden danger
Under every man
(and you)

Now I want to go
To sleep
Now I want to go
To sleep with you

Getting stronger
Under burning skies
Living longer
Under ancient lies
Moving over
The high rise and the kids
The lady falling and dancing on the skids
(with you)

Now I want to go
To sleep
Now I want to go
To sleep with you


Foreign country
The alien and friend
Always hungry
And looking for the end
Missy baba kisses all the dirt
Missy baba holding all the hurt
(for you)

Now I want to go
To sleep
Now I want to go
To sleep with you

music=
soul beast
noise
skeleton
falling
into flames
to dance
and sing thru skull teeth
rainbows
of twilight dawn surprise
and surrender

It came thru us
Like stray dogs barking
From some hidden junkyard
Where kings hide
With thieves
Who are themselves
The new kings of this old place

His New York state of mind
All twisted dominoes and psychedeli. Buzz
His hypomania
And sex drive feeding stars
A different kindve euphoria
They light up his path
And devil dust razor games
Even though he's straight he's twisted
All the way up to the moon
Nobody knows him
Least of all himself
Just vessels of life we are
Bodies of consciousness
My friend sarah tangle gave me a copy of Otis Redding
Singing with Staxx
Sam and Dave and others
A co feet in Germany
All of them so beautiful
They were all beauties
And they're all dead or really old
And I think of it
All that life
Like an explosion
A séance
A counterfeit explosion
All that life
Just gone like wind blowing thru yer hair down the street
We are merely vessels
So there is freedom there
And genius just comes thru us
No one possesses anything.
Don't blame me for my creations or love me for them
Just drink clovers and eat sunrises like popcorn at the rise of the infinite
I dream here
Now with you
And now and then
If I lost you goodnight
If yer here
Then get born
My aim is love
The way my heart beats
The way I stay up for days
The way beauties give me eyes and walk away crying
And the way I dream for the sake of it sticking up like hands buried in sand
For someone to hold
Someone hold on and pull us all up out of the last cave in corners of madness

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This blogHas moved back hereIf it will let me break linesLike eggsOver infinity's headI like the conversationAlthough now I'm writing private things(I know what's the difference?)This blog likes youAnd likes to be hereEven if it's just come back to die(in a good way) Update! It won't let me break lines! Anyone know what happened?if I can't break lines I will have to learn periods and commas and that could take years! Help!

this blog has moved to josepharthur.tumblr.com

We used to play this game
In West Virginia
Called wah hoo
Kinda like a monopoly thing but it had an Indian theme
Colored marbles
A leather board
My grandmother loved this game
Her smile was like traffic lights turning green when we would play
The family
My sister my mom and me
Maybe a cousin or two
I think only four could play but maybe it was six.
Something magical about that game
Rolling dice and moving marbles around an old leather board with an angry Indian staring at us in the middle
All he could say was "wah hoo."
Nothing was there to protect us
In a little house in the back hills of West Virginia
Fire station next door
Sounding its alarm randomly
Enid having fun with us
Giggles and competition regarding which the dice would favor more
Who was lucks best friend?
I wonder where that board is now
Did it get tossed when they passed?
When Enid forgot who we were did that Indian come for her
Sometime in the night
Take her hand
And say, "the dice have rolled for you"
And did they both wander off dancing
To a simple beat
And chant
Wah hoo

There is a man
Swimming in the cosmos
I see him
In maps of the stars
I wonder
Who will celebrate
The holidays with him?
And what kind
Of holidays
Must those be?
Could I let myself
Be inspired again?
Should I hand
My heat
Should I foot?
My heart
Back over to you like that?
Like something Kentucky fried
Joe
Like something I've prepared you to consume
Or an episode
Of the shield.
I mean really!
Is this a trap?
? Begging
Me to become Buddha
Or give
Love over to you over and over again
Or am I meant to have Hawk eyes
Searching for dirty bags
On the street?
I count
My breaths til I hit
Twenty and
Start again
All my dreams
Are falsetto
I stay present
I see the branches
And the girls
And the bum
Who speaks of falling in love with aliens
And I am the master
Of their tears
Which will not fall
The ones locked in their eyes
Held hostage
By sunlight
Drops


Baby time is over now
In yer mind burning out
Hands are reaching thru the ground
To pull you down and in the clouds

Baby time is over now
When you speak you have to shout
And still yer quiet as a mouse
Living in a burning house

Goodbye momar you crazy bastard.

It's that dirty time of year
Emotions swung on a stick burning in some nonexistent forest
Of rat head and turpentine
Satan and Santa clays
Have you made it thru the holidaze?
Or are you the glaze on a duck roasting in the maze
Let's all make it thru these lunatic events
And then laugh at the other end of guilt regret shame and weight gain
Or else just laugh now and know that you will sometime later
In other words don't let the holidays throw you down the chimney and stuff you in some used sock
Ironically now's a goodtime for Buddhism
It's all a dream baby
Even and especially you
Just follow the breath on down the line
Until yer the light in summertime
Even as snow falls broken and cold
Over pains of a family insane and old

Noose
Wave gloves
Snow development and haiku
Plus I noticed lattes with soymilk making a big come back

New Yorkers are spaced in Manhattan
Drinking coffees with their children
Everyone here is abandoned in some kind of way
The black man with green sweater and blue snowflakes sticks his white beard in the New York post
As outside the streets like black glass are wet from the future of snow as miles Davis sounds his horn from beyond duke Ellington's piano
And if john cage were writing this I suppose he would include the voices all sounding together to make a symphony of chaos as the vents blow heat like the roar of some pretend crowd down in the outer reaches of a make believe Mexico
A little girl playing with straw wrappers is our chief soloist screaming questions at her smiling too old father
And the man
Black sits with his back playing piano just behind my head where the permanently cracking halo used to be
And this is the end of a year
A make believe quantity of time
For time is one long instant
Or one explosion of now
A now that goes on forever
And hardly recognizes anything about the past
In truth one could say that we here slowly and solely as keepers of the past
The little girl is crying now
Maybe our purpose is our memories
Without them there would be no more yesterdays
The little girl is talking to the black man who is holding a magnifying glass to her injured finger
They are fast friends
The parents are smiling at this hallmark moment
And now frosty the snowman is playing
And the man tells the parents to take her home before she catches Santa coming in
They take his advice and leave in a flash
And we are left here as we were
One long moment
Abandoned in the city

I got stuff
Like more stuff than is right or expert or holy
I moved so much stuff
Out of the big old badass crucifixion that was momar
Over the last two months
That u my dear reader would not believe
And I wasnt alone
There was a team albeit a small one
Infact some of you may know that I tried to avoid it altogether
I had the universe even make me an excuse
Something about opening shows across Europe
But momar
That very kingly and epic place
That place of legend and myth
And dogs barking
Dogs of hell next door
Being tortured at night in that god-forsaken pet. Store
Anyway I digress
I had a team of warriors
Pat cerise molly beck patty
And Lauren our fearless team leader
Oh brother dear reader I do not exaggerate when I tell you it was hard
And when I say hard I mean on the level of torture hard
I have more things
Than is right
And it's because I am a painter and music maker a leper and leech

I was dead before I got out of first grade. The fact that I'm now almost something quite older
Is a testament to the sustaining power of dreams and the stubborn indifference of the dreamer to see what is real or the facts as they are. This is the story of a suicide that never swallowed the handful. A suicide that never pulled the trigger. A suicide that never used his belt for anything other than keeping his pants on or improving his sex life. This is the story of a nomad who went nowhere at all dead before the end of grade one and now nearly here
In the dawn of a new year
Rejoice dear reader
Rejoice
We have made it for now

I woke up in darkness
Black bleeding
Like something forbidden
And people were home
These unholy monsters
I slid beneath a green couch
And I watched them smoke
I saw him play with her hair
And remove her top
As she drank and giggled
Then I saw his blade
And the look of terror in her eyes
Her face gone white with shock
Just then I lunged at the exposed part of his ankle
He yelled mother fuck
And his blade nearly hit me as it fell to the floor
When quickly I slid underneath the front door

Dustbins
Ghost buddahs
Abandoned knife wounds
And songs that just hang in the air
Like particles or planets in a beam of sunlight
Yeah baby
I know I'm brave
But it's easy to speak of death when yer still young and beautiful
Still my blood courses thru dark rivers
Full of acid and dead things
The entire killing
Of time and dreams
It gets to be a thing
Of too many bodies
Stacking up in rows
Until all my walls are made of bones
Which beat on a drum as I sleep and dream
Walls of bones
Beating rows of drums
Marching without moving
All caving in on me
It's easy to say what I say and breathe how I breathe
Like a fat man heart attack
Something goes bam! In my mind or clank! Or crack!
And blood spits itself from my mouth
And I fall on the floor
Convulsing eyes rolling back of my head
And I think it's funny
I have a head
Banging itself on the hard wood floor
As if this life were supposed to scare me or scar me
The battered ones embrace me
And I take my place in the wall
And begin as they do
To beat my drum
As flesh falls away
I am they
Wall of bones

The next day
I got nothing to add here
I'm like a cat with a hairball
All numb caffeine
And dirty pink carpet
Outer space eyes looking more for clarity than the hidden doctrine of Zeus
People judge and fall all over themselves to damn
Like the ancient Romans thumb turned down
But it's getting to me a joke dontcha think (yes I did and do)
I've got renewed faith
I wish to inspire and be inspired
My romance with darkness is over
We're breaking up
I want to be a celebration of clarity
The only psychedelic movement left is utter clarity
True sobriety
Out from under the rot of technology and narcotic subterfuge
I drink coffee and go walking in the snow
The daylight fades to darkness and I'm lost in a nest of my own harmony
Gift upon gift upon gift
So lucky and enlightened and dumb intact
But I want to sit inside myself like a lead sandwich and watch the digestion zombies make love to their fear and turn to dust
I blow them away without inhaling
Tho in my mind I take a giant snort
I laugh it off and pull my switchblade
As it approaches
sliding up the street

I write that shit
From my brow
And think
Don't post it
But then I do
Just out of boredom
Or perversity
Or cuz why not (its compulsive)
And then I think
Oh god
What about my mom
And I hope I don't get advice (I know better course I do but there is also a

Difference between creative writing
And reality although sometimes not muc) much or muk
I usually beat myself up a little
Every time
No matter what I write
There is the opposite truth
Which comes up all muscled and pretty and with a chain
And tells me to step outside
And then proceeds to lash me about
And then I say yes I can redeem it
Myself
The folly of days
The ludicrousness of words
Typed like dice and shaken and sent tumbling over the table of an unviable gamble
But you people are sweet
And I don't mean that with any condescension
But rather honestly
And I agree
Fuck addiction but if it wasn't powerful then there would be no problem
And still like my friend said
Don't mistake yer problems for being real

(ps im not on any prescription meds)


None of us are bullet proof
And as good as my mind is for the positive (what modesty)
Its shadow is every bit as opulent massive brooding and dangerous (wow)
Just like saying come on soft boy enough control (get over yerself)
Lets lose it and go bingo chipping across the universe (what's bingo chipping?)
I can hear the neighbor's music (not anymore)
Its cold outside (only kinda)
None of us can get away but for spare moments at a time (true)
Writing is pathological (no shit)
Especially in this form (shit)
Another habit (oh gawd)
Another addiction (double oh gawd)
a good one I guess (triple oh gawd)
But don't pretend that some aren't destroyed by it (quadruple oh gawd)

And finally

Still sober
Still sober
Still sober
And still sober

But thank you for your soft hearts
The only snow I love falls from the sky

God bless