jbinja_theninja

sonnet sonnet sonnet you would look good IN a bonnet, but even better on it


Weathered Clocks

The ticking creep of clock and solar spins,
keeps heartward rhythms beating marching on.
Though through the woods a sunken cheek there grins
awaiting fire to burn to ash and gone,
we know no other way but on and up.
November's smooth becomes a biting sweet.
No longer can we drink of autumn's cup
and winter's cold embrace we cannot cheat.

A heart may try to drag its feet and slow
the constant movement through the wooded glen
but it cannot dissuade the undertow.
So recognize the dew on grass and when
the ember of the sun breaks in to flame.
For progress of the clock you cannot tame.



A Sapping Stretch

November moved throughout my bones like long
corn-shadow fingers reaching for crow-calls,
a sapping stretch that cannot see the throng
of paper cranes in flight, but it recalls
the warmth they seek. I always watched the flock,
their southward V a chevron, sharp as spear
heads, stabbing toward the sun as if to mock
my rooted place. While sponging Courage, beer,

and booze, I saw my corduroy-frayed nerves
grow rusted from misuse and Time's decay,
but found a ticking warmth within the curves
of calloused hands. The crumbling away
unmasks the brassy leaves we call a sky
unfurled in autumn's freezing yearn to fly.

My creative energies have recently been focussed on 1) a paper about environmental philosophy and 2) poems for creative writing class

seeing as I doubt you have much interest in my highly accedemic and astutely excellent slash super superb paper about environmental philosophy, I will hit you with some poemas.


Escape

Do you remember being covered
in numbers? Those days before I stripped
off my paper suit and traded it in
for a blanket stitched of leaves
twigs bark and hide.

Now that you've peeled them off,
all those numbers, like
bar codes off of fruit. Your
social security number
your pin number your drivers
license number. You can feel
air's rough caress in its current.


Discontent

Grey-blue days made monotony sit heavy
on shrugged shoulders like old-dog-eye-brows.
Ever seen a man sit slouch and pace at
the same time? Well I have, and he had shoulders
slung so low on a single piano's note
you could have sworn they were clouds.
Close clouds, the kind that make a man
churn on the inside, boiling to be
something other than what he is being
something other than a collection of
calloused fingers clutching, but not holding,
a paint brush, and simply being.

This is a short story I just finished

( Read more )

will you compare this to my other piece and tell me which is stronger? well technically theyre the same piece, just this one is much more subtle.... so yeah that would be supah cool.


Have Phallus: Will Drill
All the men told Marty that she looked good, hands wrapped around the shaft of the double, sweat and grease mixed indiscriminately and running down her still soft cheek where she would roughly wipe it away with the back of her hand. She would stand on the derrick’s deck when the well would blow and they would tell her that she should be in films, all soaked in oil like that. Long blonde hair pulled back tight under her yellow hard hat, they were just itching for her to shake it out in flowing waves, but she’d just scowl and spit on the deck, marking how their amphetamine red faces would fall.
Twelve hours on, twelve hours off. That’s how they worked, which is tough when it’s the off hours that kill you, kill you because that hard rumbling steel isn’t between your hands, your legs, your feet. “rest up,” the foreman would jab, “you need your beauty sleep.” But she rarely slept, instead turning it over and over in her mind: all the steel rods that weren’t quite hers; that’s didn’t quite sit between her thighs. She knew them better than she knew the mound of her inadequate womanhood, that idiotically coveted bit of flesh that made them call her a softneck, when she could roughneck better than the best of them. And all without meth, without Adderall, even without coffee.
One night one of the men found her in the living quarters. He had just come off his twelve, black-face-grease-paint on his cheeks and arms, glassy eyes, and gaping pupils looking to swallow her up. She sat under a single lamp, her brow heavy over her eyes with a technical manual in one hand, one heavy booted foot slung onto a chair, and the other hand resting on her inner thigh. She looked up into his animal face, staring hard, searching and knowing what he meant, but no color left her face, her eyes didn’t widen in sudden realization. Marty only furrowed her brow, frowned slightly, and turned back to the manual. He stood there with new awareness written over his features as clear as if he’d just bitten the fruit off the tree of knowledge. Later that night when the others asked him how the dame was, he would mumble back “Ain’t no dames on this rig….”

Ive been writing more and more prose. so dig in kiddies...


Have Phallus: Will Drill

All the men told Marty that she looked sexy, hands wrapped around the shaft of the double, sweat and grease mixed indiscriminately and running down her still soft cheek. She would stand on the derrick’s deck when the well would blow and they would tell her that she should be in porn, all soaked in oil like that. “Fuck you,” she’d spit back at their amphetamine red faces, “I bet you all wish you could handle your cocks half as well as I can handle this drill.”
Twelve hours on, twelve hours off. That’s how they worked, which is tough when it’s the off hours that kill you, kill you because that hard rumbling steel isn’t between your hands, your legs, your feet. “rest up,” the foreman would jab, “you need your beauty sleep.” But she rarely slept, instead turning it over and over in her mind: all the steel rods that weren’t quite hers; that’s didn’t quite sit between her thighs. She knew them better than she knew the mound of her inadequate womanhood, that idiotically coveted bit of flesh that made them call her a softneck, when she could roughneck better than the best of them. And all without meth, without Adderall, even without coffee.
One night one of the men found her in the living quarters. He had just come off his twelve, black-face-grease-paint on his cheeks and arms, glassy eyes, and gaping pupil looking to swallow her up. He came on fast and hard. She understood the animal need, clear and sharp, it was all that drove him. His thick steel hard arms enveloped her, pinning her arms at her sides. She clutched blindly to his groin and squeezed hard, just like a roughneck. Reflexively he recoiled, stomach in and eyes wide, pissed, and went limp. “What a fucking waste!” Marty screamed over and over at the suddenly infantile man on the cold ground. He looked up at the cockless alpha male and whimpered. Finally he understood. They all did.

I was up most of the night last night, writing and reading and editing and screwing off with people. I met a girl from prescott college, its a small world I suppose.

I wrote this as a personal narrative, it is true, some parts are assorted parts of those two years trying to be a punk, but most of it is fairly linear in the sense that it all happened more or less how its read. Not chronologically, but whatever.

( Its long, but you might like it (thats what she said) )

poetry de jour

Yawning Autumn

There!-
Tall Grass licks your
Thigh right above your knee
Cap it swirls tiny
Tongues across your alabaster
Skin noting especially
The mango light
Smeared in lines by the
Waning sun.
There!-
See your hips lying down
Bones like mountains to
Lay the valleys low
Lower than the deep
Musk-notes of grass and
Words left unspoken
There!-
And there you are, your
Eternity bare before the
Opening fall

I have no time for anything but everything that needs to be done. and in a timely manner

I have an 18 credit load and am working 15 hours a week at the library, at which I started working yesterday and already have...fourteen hours!!!

I am taking
studies of radical dissent
Creative Writing
Intr. to philosophy
acting out
basement writers club.

Ive had homework every night for at least two classes since the first day of school, its fun, its hard, I eat well, I think well, I live pretty well.

If you have any interest in the subject Amy and I have seperated due to the pressures of distance.


that is the lame 12:35 am update, maybe some day youll get something better.

perhaps the best part about the south is the fact that the ocean is like eighty something degrees.
I mean really, I try not to let the chillyness of the west coast get to me, but what good is an ocean that you cant swim in naked at midnight?

SO
Im in North Carolina, and I move in to my dorm on sunday, but for now Im just bumming around with my relatives and suchlike

I love the south, I even like the humidity.


theres soemthing about the way live oaks line sidewalks and embrace the sky, spanish moss hanging from their branches, that makes me feel closer to something that I lost along the road. Cicadas buzz so loudly that conversations can be muted and thunder and lighting are regulars, people say that nature is more wild in the west but every root piercing the sidewalk, every house engulfed in kudzu, tells another story.

before I left the dudes (Nick, Nick, Turner, Conor, Quinn, and I) had our final hurrah/spontaneous friday/ man day at the beach and it was honestly a ton of fun. Nick and I experimented some more with his new salvia shipment and got some great results,
then I experimented again with nick and kate and then again the sunday before I left, this time trying the ten times concentrated salvia with mind and reality shattering results. If youd like me to go into detail just ask, but I dont really feel like writing that much now.

Ive been writing alot of poetry and posting none of it, partially because Im lazy, and partially because I feel like I no longer have any talents, maybe some time soon Ill post it all and let you be the judge of that.
anyways, goodnight


JB

Today I got the news that a friend of mine died, it was the first time id ever experienced soemthing like that and I did know what to do.
Ive been sitting here crying like a little bitch for the first time in a year and I dont know what to think.
Corrie was a beautiful girl who was so full of life and love, and I just cant think of any reason why any of this can be alright.
I know you guys have gone through this a million more times than me so can anyone tell me what to do, or what to feel?

the stress relating to my upcoming long distance relationship attempt is quickly mounting. Im not sure if Im ready for this level of commitment. What will we talk about? we say well talk all the time, but really, will we just talk about our college friends and shit? becuase we wont really have anything to do with that part of eachothers lives so..... I mean, what if Im miserable while were apart? more importantly, where is the light at the end of the tunnel, neither of us have any notion as to what will happen after college, so really its just a speculation, a gamble....where the fuck is the positive in all of this????? yes staying with Amy is a positive but staying with Amy without being with her seems contrary.
sedate me!

Yesterday I bought myself a vaporizer in order to save my lungs.
for those of you who dont know a vaporizer is a device that heats a smoking medium to the point of it's active ingredients' vaporization (moving from solid to gaseous state) but not to the point where it burns, this allows you to get the full effect of whatever you are smoking while avoiding carcinogens, carbon monoxide, tar, and all the other harmful substances that are usually inhaled while smoking. Instead all you inhale is water vapor, the product's active ingredient (THC, nicotine, ect), and a clear and incredibly rich flavor. Generally vaporizers need to be plugged in to electricity and are quite bulky, not to mention expensive, usually starting at around 100 dollars. Is the price to steep friends? dont worry I have the solution! The Vapor Genie, vaporizing pipe, is the worlds first lighter powered vaporizer and can be found for as little as 50 dollars, often coming in a package deal with a grinder and some legal mood enhancing herbs (wild lettuce or a blend usually).

yesterday I smoked off of my new vaporizer and let me tell you I couldnt be more pleased, not only was there absolutely NO harshness on the lungs and throat the flavor of the herb was entirely undiluted with smoke or that ashy flavor that comes from smoking hand rolled or from a pipe. When I say that there was no harshness I mean it, I have smoked from a double, even tripple perk ZONG brand waterpipe and this was less harsh than that. the effects of the herb were greatly increased allowing me to smoke much less to achieve the desired effect. I have heard it quoted that vaporizer increase smoking efficiency (in terms of active ingredient content) by up to 75 or so percent, which means in the long run your investment will pay for itself, both in monetary and health terms.

thats my two cents, anyone else supah down with the vape? anyone want to give my new piece a test run?

Well, today I experienced my first salvia trip,
I decided to ease into it and so bought a couple grams of straight loose leaf at the market today, I ground it coarsely, and added some lavender and crumbled elephants head, just to help fill the bowl.
using a small butane torch (generally used for cigar lighting) I roasted the first bowl down holding in each hit for around 45 seconds,(I noted an interesting flavor much like gingerbread) I proceeded to do the same for about four or so more bowls.
this trip was less than hallucinogenic, which is to be expected from anything weaker than 10-20x concentrate, but was certainly different from other herbs, it was strongly euphoric, but I did not feel impaired in terms of cognition or motor control. My eyes did not redden or become glassy as they do with my other herb of choice (to the extreme) nor did I experience any lack of salivation (cotton mouth) or an increase in appetite (the munchies) the trip lasted strongly for around 45 minutes and the afterglow lasted for another couple hours. all in all a positive experience, the two grams cost me only 10 dollars and by the fifth bowl I had just barely scraped the top of the first gram, so the cost is right, the feeling is good, it tastes good, and best of all, its fully legal. whod-a-thunk-it??

secondly I purchased a half ounce of some more legal mood enhancing/medicinal herbs while at fair, I am happy to report that they are wonderful, not only are they a pleasure to smoke (smooth thick smoke, and a bitter-sweet taste on exhale) they also do quite well for relief of back pain as well as relaxation of muscle tissue, I also noted a hightened feeling of well being after as little as 1/2 gram of usage.

if my use of legal herbs offends you I am sorry. but really.

Yesterday (friday) I went to the Oregon Country Fair, and let me tell you it was a blast. Everyone was so friendly!!! As an example, on my way from the bag search station, where they briefly check you ticket and make a poor attempt to prevent massive number of hippies from smuggling drugs into the fair, and the place where you get stamped and are admitted into the fair proper (about 500 yards) I lost my ticket, but after explaining my situation to the people at the desk and asking what I could do, they just up and gave me a free ticket! how nice!!!
Aside from that the fair was great, plenty of stimulus in all forms, tasty food and herb smells, people bumping into you and all kinds of crazy sounds. Im hoping to go on Sunday, although I think my dad and mom are backing out for Sunday so we shall see, anyways, I recommend that you go. if not this year, than next year!

plus.
poetry!

The Ant Farmer

William called himself an ant
farmer. Not a farmer who is an
ant but a man who farms ants.
No on thought him much full with
wits, though he knew himself full with
wisdom planting-wise. One thumb-
deep into the earth, two to four ants,
to be sure, cover, and water
daily with sugary nectar. Then the
hill swells tall feet high, a sure
sign that the hollow roots are
setting well far-deep. Spring
and the fields of shining hard fruit
hanging from trees capable of
bearing three time their weight
march next. A generous harvest
sold to the Ant-Eater family down
the lane,who were really the
Aardvark family who ate only ants,
which William grew best, they
always said.

first item of business.

If you wanted something from stuffapulooza pick it up NOW! Im putting everything unclaimed as of the end of july up for a free for all, so claim something and come get it soon!!!

I got my AP scores back, and wouldnt you know that I got a 5 in lang. and comp. and a 4 in AP studio art! not too shabbay, oh also, I thought I failed my AP stats test from last year but NOPE I got a 3 which isnt great but hey! its passing!

I just registered for my freshman seminar class, its finally sinking in how soon Im leaving. Aug 11!!! thats soon! I cant wait, although I know Ill be sad to leave Amy....How can I possibly make a long distance relationship work? anybody???

I need a new hobby, I just finished my first poem in over a month...it goes nearly without saying that Im suffering from some form of creative block, but dont worry, I think Ive figured out how to get over it. I just have to read poetry, GOOD poetry. I recently became a member on some poetry forums/networking sites and I am slowly realizing how many a) incredibly shitty writers there are out there and b) how many people just eat it up...If I have to read another cheesy love poem in first person or another tortured teen poem I will hurl. SO I quit that shit and went back to reading actual poets that I like and lo and behold I wrote somehting!! so here it is I suppose, yeah its not that great but I finally kicked the block...

A Stooping Place

Once through a pipe stood
three but three stooped
instead

What use is for stooping
instead of standing when standing room
is let to stand?

were stooping room only left than
stoop three may without another
word. Yet the other end
of the pipe let stand quite the
spacious room.

It stands to reason to stand
instead of stoop, but men
stooping in pipes stand not
for reason.

So Ive learned that in order to write I have to read and what goes in is what comes out. so if I read shit, I write shit. keep that in mind all ye readers and writers.

Peace!
JB

I havent posted anything on here for a while.
My summer is going alright, I had been bummed for a while on account of that cloudiness we had working for a while, but Im glad its clearing up. Im working at CBAP which is essentially the more educational version of adventures without limits, plus its primarily aimed at disabled kids, so what Im saying is, my summer job involves rock climbing paddling rafter ect, with disabled kids...oh my!

this last weekend was...odd I went camping at stub stuart state park with a large group of people and let me tell you, it was very disjointed. I hereby resolve to never let someone less experienced with camping than me organize a camping trip, at least not one that IM going on. otherwise I dont really care......
anyways I meant to write alot more so everyone could know what the deal was but Im exhausted from getting up a 4 or so this morning, plus I have to be up at seven tomorrow.
good night.

graduation was pretty....well pretty good actually. the ceremony was long as fuck but I got to speak which made it slightly more exciting to me than I imagine it was for many others, afterwards I had next to no time to say good-bye to those who I wanted to say good bye to, and I also had a bunch of stuff to give away to people, and I never found them either, but oh well! my speech went super well by the way...then we had gradnight which was way better than I expected except that I didnt win ANYTHING, how is that even possible? they gave away like 300 things??? oh well. anyways, I rock climbed like most of the night so my entire boddy is tired as foooook, and I also sang a ton of kareoke which means my voice is gone. oh good times....so yeah!

want to read my speech? there are some changes I made in ink before hand but this is the general gist, I dunno why any of you could possibly be interested in this but Im tired as fuck so who knows?????

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of 2009, before I even begin speaking in earnest, I will make you two promises. First, that this will be neither the best, nor the worst speech you have ever heard, and second, that I will not even mention Doctor Sues or Oh The Places You Will Go past telling you that I wont mention them.
Now, you have undoubtedly heard that we are the future, you’ve probably heard it a thousand times. I suppose that it is true, in the sense that we will, by the slow hand of age, and the plodding progression of time, have the world and its stewardship surrendered to us. But we have been duped, duped into thinking that we have to wait our turn complacently, and accept whatever world has handed down. Why wait? In a generation of instant gratification, why wait? We have the ability to take the world into our hands and shape it like clay into anything we please, if we do indeed have such power, then why wait? People say that if it’s not broken, don’t fix it, but there are leaks in our world’s plumbing and the simple fact remains that if we wait for our turn to try and fix it, we may be unable. So seize the day! Why wait!
Some members of generations before us have misnamed our generation a ‘lost’ generation. Nothing could be farther from the truth. We have been given a compass, which points straight to humanity, and I believe we plan to follow it. To demonstrate what I mean I’m going to need your participation for a moment
First could anyone who has met with a teacher outside of school for help please stand up. Now could anyone who has ever texted a teacher, please stand up. Anyone who has ever hugged a teacher. Anyone who has been patted on the back by a teacher. Anyone who has ever called a teacher on their cell or home phone. And finally, will anyone who has sustained eye contact with a teacher of the opposite gender for eight or more seconds, including during one on one conversation, please stand up.
Some educational experts would say that you that are standing have been in some way wrong. Wronged by the very educators who you have developed a lasting bond with over these past four years, a bond that facilitates learning, growth, and most importantly, understanding. Yes, as absurd as it may sound even sustaining eye contact for more than eight seconds is considered to be inappropriate. Although we are not lost, thanks in part to the efforts of quality educators like mike and Bonnie McCabe and Eric Larsen, and the countless others who are willing to go the extra mile to make sure students get the education that they need and deserve, the next generation may be if they are not allowed to form the bonds necessary for a proper education.
Finally, I would like to give you all some advice, which is probably the only advice I am at all qualified to give you, and that is, search for happiness, and if you see it, don’t be shy. One of the most important documents in American history, the declaration of independence lists the persuit of happiness as one of three inalienable rights. It doesn’t guarantee that you’ll find it, or that if you do you’ll be able to hold on to it, but at least you can chase it. If you are one of the lucky few who ultimately attains a wide degree of this, the most basic of commodities, I urge you to not horde it, because happiness is a commodity that does not keep well. If you finds yourself with a surplus of happiness, share it to avoid waste, and if you know a way in which to obtain happiness you will find no greater joy than sharing the map to that happiness, because it will in no way diminish the value of your happiness, just as a candle’s brightness is in no way diminished by sharing its flame with another candle. We are not all 4.0 students, we do not all have our CIM, we are not all the prom king or queen, we are not all ASB president, we didn’t all make varsity, we did not all make state, we did not all make the team, heck most of us didn’t even make it to school on time, but what we can all do is find some measure of joy and chase it with everything weve got, live life to the hilt, and never forget that happiness is nothing if not shared.

I believe that human beings grow close in three ways

physically, which is the easiest to identify and name and so is often used as the sole indicator for relationships by those of less than elevated thinking
emotional, which is less simple to identify as it is variable from person to person and one must be very self aware to understand the varying depth and bredth of an emotional connection
and thirdly mental which involves the sharing of thoughts and ideas and is associated with comfort and relaxation around the other person, as two people become closer mentally they will begin to feel that they share one mind and can speak it freely

these three ways culminate, ultimately, in the act of sex, or as I think it should be more aptly named: love making.
Sex can be entirely physical, many men suffer from this assumption, it can be entirely emotional and many women suffer from this assumption (in particular those who are very uncomfortable sexually and therefore cannot experience the pleasure of love making to its fullest), but it is only proper when love making brings people together in all three ways, physically mentally and emotionally. Our design intends it to be this way, during sex endorphin levels spike and hormones go wild, we feel relaxed and entirely at ease, content, and fulfilled. All of these reactions are our being's way of attempting to facilitate the smooth development of the three bonds. It is when we fight these reaction and tell ourselves that 'it doesnt mean anything' and 'its JUST sex' that we put ourselves in danger. Each time that we make love we form a deep connection, however if that connection is quickly severed due to a lack of depth in a relationship we risk forever damaging our ability to form that type of connection again.

Im drunk....why do I think when Im drunk????