47YES
If you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, you will say to your mountain,"MOVE!" and it WILL move... and NOTHING will be impossible for YOU!- Matthew 17:20
I'm going to walk the dogs to get my dope. Bundy will pitch a fit while he is tied to the outside of the pharmacy, and I am scoring. He has a bad case of separation anxiety. He will cry, and scream until I get back. It makes it hard to take him anywhere.
Scout got busted for using her cell phone, to call me to bring her a homemade lunch while she was on her lunch break, at her high school, today. I would think that a teacher would have a better thing to do than take kids' phones away in the cafeteria. If she had been talking on it during math. class, I could understand her loss of it.
I'm waiting for someone to come take my wheelchair from me. I changed insurance companies for a little while, and the wheelchair company can no longer collect a three hundred dollar a month rental fee, so they want it back. What is twelve times 300; that is one expensive wheel chair that I have thought that I owned for the last year. It sat, in my way, next to my bed, and in front of my book shelves for the past year. I only used it when I was in the hospital. I'm pretty sure that I was told that I owned it. I think that the company that rents them out is a little bit crooked.
I'm eating some oatmeal with peanut butter, a pinch of salt, and half a banana, and then I am going to take the dogs for a walk. There is a bit of a chill in the air, but the sun is brilliant out there. What a wonderful day.
I need to stay close to you, so I carry this laptop everywhere that I go. I seek out wi-fi hot spots to stay at. One day, I will have an I phone or a Droid. Help me out of poverty by putting money in The K Tip Jar. Right now, I am at a bookstore re-writing my book of poems, "Someday I Will Start The Revolution." I miss you. I really do. These poems may change your life.
5 p.m. is not the time for me to walk my dogs. There are a lot of other people, probably just home from work, out there walking their dogs, and Henry, and Bundy are just not polite: barking loudly at every dog that they see, and pulling, pulling on their leashes making the walk unpleasant for me. What can you do, though, a 5 pm walk is how it turned out that our walk was to be, today, and we all survived it.
I either ate too much of my son's 22nd birthday cake, last night, at his surprise birthday party, or I ate just the right amount. I am not sure how to measure such, except by dropping blood onto a test strip, and sticking the test strip into a glucose meter, which I am about to do, right now.
My reading was 109, which is good. It was influenced by the fact that I just spent most of the last hour walking my dogs.
----------------------------------------
K Poems
You aren't in the picture
I have the camera.
I have the film,
but something is missing.
---------------------------------------
And a cop who isn't busting folks
A singer who is not singing
might not be a singer anymore.
A poet who is not writing
might as well get a job at the store.
----------------------------------------
Strike Out
Bowling pins drop
but not all of them.
-----------------------------------------
There is no welcome mat on the front door where I live now.I left it at the last place that I lived before: the rented house where the crack head kicked in our back door, and walked with two laptops that belonged to my kids.
There were dogs inside that house, but the intruder scared the dogs, somehow. One of the dogs is skittish to this day, or maybe she was skittish all along, and I just didn't notice it. There was a storm during the night, here, that brought branches to the ground from the big tree that sits in front of our house, near the street. There was one particularly big branch that was trying to bring down my cable wire, again.
I picked up the smaller branches, and dragged the larger branch off of the cable wire and onto the ground, cleaning up the mess like I owned the place.
The storm could have been a serial killer, out to slash my throat last night, and I wouldn't have noticed it, fast asleep in my rented apartment.
----------------------------------------------------
THE VERDICT IS IN: YOU SHOULD BY A COPY OF. “THE DELIVERY GUY,” Mikel K’s popular underground memoir about that period of his life where he went from an LSD soaked, alcohol laden music writer poet rock star wanna be to a sober father sitting in the Little League bleachers watching his son grow up as he ran the bases. This book will make you laugh. It will make you cry, and then it will make you laugh, again.
YOU CAN BUY THE BOOK, NOW, BY GOING TO THIS LINK: http://stores.lulu.com/mikelkpoet
“I found the book, “The Delivery Guy,” by Mikel K to be a refreshing and sometimes uncomfortably honest look into the life of a modern writer struggling to come to terms with a pre-fabricated and often superficial, turn of the century, American society. The battle is dynamic and comes to an uplifting spiritually evolved conclusion. I found it a fascinating read!!!”–James Lewis
——————————–
Help keep The Daily K a float by donating to The Daily K Tip Jar: http://www.mikelk.com/
Every donor will receive an E copy of Mikel K’s memoir, “The Delivery Guy.”
——————————–
Monday, February 28, 2011
45yesThe Daily K: Fear and Loathing on The Phone By Dr. K
"Our own life has to be our message."--Thich Nhat Hanh
None of the Local Fitness Centers, that I called today, nearly 13 in all, have the Regional Sales Office phone number, or so they say. I was calling fitness centers in New Jersey, and at one location, I wound up talking to a guy in California, who mispronounced my name, but assured me that the information that I had just given him would get to the people who I wanted it to get to.
Sales is a funny game. Nobody really wants to talk to you, until you convince them that there is something in it for them; then, the bonding is immediate: you have a new friend, and both of you are happy.
My head isn't quite right, yet, this morning; it is groggy, foggy; refusing to come to a waking state. I am hoping that a large cup of coffee, a BC Powder, Martha Argerich, and a walk with the dogs will change this.
The Monster Fitness Club is giving me strong resistance to putting our swimming lessons in their pool. The last person I talked to, a woman in Membership Services, at a number in Sacramento, Calif., where The Corporate Office is located, said that we would interfere with their customers' use of the pool by giving swimming lessons in it.
I handled her objection, by saying that we would be completely unobtrusive in the one lane that we would use, to start, during off times. The women then gave me what she said was the corporate office p.o. box. Imagine that; a huge corporation making millions of dollars, and they get their mail at a p.o. box. Life never fails to amaze me. The woman would not give me the corporate office phone number. I guess these corporate officers don't want to talk to anyone!
Lousy thoughts sometimes want to push their way into my mind, when my head has awoken full of love. There is an art to keeping these bad thoughts out, that I have nearly perfected: shoo bad thoughts; shoo.
The dogs are needy this morning; they all gather about my desk, instead of doing their own thing. They seek snacks when I go into the kitchen, pats on the head when I sit at my desk. Henry had Morisson's new toy in his mouth for much of the time, the time when he is not barking at me for attention, or heading to the water bowl, or the toilet for a drink. Morisson seems to be sharing his new toy well; he is like that.
I love the fact that I have, yet again, woken up.
What do you do when you have only two hands, but there are three dogs demanding your attention?!!
Kitty Kobain will eat peanut butter mixed with oatmeal off of my knee; he won't eat plain ole peanut butter off of my knee though, but Henry will, so the peanut butter on my knee is all gone.
The dogs are napping, after our 39 minute walk. I accidentally disturbed them by mistakenly turning Rush Limbaugh on. Dear Dogs: I am most heartily sorry!
Up at 8 something: gagged on grounds at the bottom of my coffee.
Know it alls know it all; I am amazed by how self-righteous some American males get when it comes to politics: they think that they know it all, when, really, probably, none of us know anything.
I know that I have brought Henry over early to visit this morning. He was barking a tad next door, in his apartment, letting me know that he wanted to come over; and since I have no business phone calls to make this morning, I am glad to have his company. Henry fits right into the scene, here, with myself, my dogs, cats, and turtles. He is a joy to have about; except when he starts barking at people who pass by the abode, and butterflies who are sleeping.
My dog, Bundy, probably could have used stitches, recently, after being attacked by a neighborhood dog, but I didn't have the money to go to a vet, so I just prayed that his wound would heal. My prayers have been answered; Bundy's bottom lip is almost completely healed.
There are so many things that we think that we need in this existence; and then some that we really do. It is nice to have the things that we really need, and, also, nice when we realize that we do not need everything that we want.
Are you crazy if you sing Tom Petty songs to your dogs, and cats; and prance about the abode like you are Mick Jaggar? And why does the site of a pretty girl often make me want to break out into a Van Halen song, one of the ones that the band played when David Lee Roth was still in the band?
We're all Huge Superstars when we are cleaning the kitchen counter, and the animals are a captive audience, because they think that I am in the kitchen to get them a treat!!
I'm not sure if I should take my nap, and then take my bike ride; or if I should take my bike ride, and then take my nap.
·
Sloan Rainwater: Ride the bike. Take the nap.
Pigpen S House: If you had a stationary bike you could take a nap while riding the bike...
I decided to take the nap first, and I feel most excellent, now, for having done so, but I am going to go to the Yoga studio for practice, before I ride my bike; before I do that, though, I am going to drink this huge cup of coffee that I have made me.
All my exercise has made me tired, but the beauty of the day makes me want to stay in it, though I know(hope and pray)that another day awaits me tomorrow.
I am trying not to overeat the chili that I made this afternoon. It is a great batch, so it is a hard thing to not eat it all. I love to overeat, and then pass out on the bed, but I, now, know that that is not good for me, so I try not to do it. I think that I should walk the dogs in order to get away from the kitchen.
------------------
Pure Silence
If the world is about to end
I don't want to watch it end on the television
I don't want to listen to it end on the radio
I don't want Rush Limbaugh or Sean Hannity
or Al Bore or Obama
to tell me that it is going to end.
I want to die feeding my cats,
or taking my dogs for a walk,
oblivious to all but what I can see in front of me.
--Mikel K
"Our own life has to be our message."--Thich Nhat Hanh
None of the Local Fitness Centers, that I called today, nearly 13 in all, have the Regional Sales Office phone number, or so they say. I was calling fitness centers in New Jersey, and at one location, I wound up talking to a guy in California, who mispronounced my name, but assured me that the information that I had just given him would get to the people who I wanted it to get to.
Sales is a funny game. Nobody really wants to talk to you, until you convince them that there is something in it for them; then, the bonding is immediate: you have a new friend, and both of you are happy.
My head isn't quite right, yet, this morning; it is groggy, foggy; refusing to come to a waking state. I am hoping that a large cup of coffee, a BC Powder, Martha Argerich, and a walk with the dogs will change this.
The Monster Fitness Club is giving me strong resistance to putting our swimming lessons in their pool. The last person I talked to, a woman in Membership Services, at a number in Sacramento, Calif., where The Corporate Office is located, said that we would interfere with their customers' use of the pool by giving swimming lessons in it.
I handled her objection, by saying that we would be completely unobtrusive in the one lane that we would use, to start, during off times. The women then gave me what she said was the corporate office p.o. box. Imagine that; a huge corporation making millions of dollars, and they get their mail at a p.o. box. Life never fails to amaze me. The woman would not give me the corporate office phone number. I guess these corporate officers don't want to talk to anyone!
Lousy thoughts sometimes want to push their way into my mind, when my head has awoken full of love. There is an art to keeping these bad thoughts out, that I have nearly perfected: shoo bad thoughts; shoo.
The dogs are needy this morning; they all gather about my desk, instead of doing their own thing. They seek snacks when I go into the kitchen, pats on the head when I sit at my desk. Henry had Morisson's new toy in his mouth for much of the time, the time when he is not barking at me for attention, or heading to the water bowl, or the toilet for a drink. Morisson seems to be sharing his new toy well; he is like that.
I love the fact that I have, yet again, woken up.
What do you do when you have only two hands, but there are three dogs demanding your attention?!!
Kitty Kobain will eat peanut butter mixed with oatmeal off of my knee; he won't eat plain ole peanut butter off of my knee though, but Henry will, so the peanut butter on my knee is all gone.
The dogs are napping, after our 39 minute walk. I accidentally disturbed them by mistakenly turning Rush Limbaugh on. Dear Dogs: I am most heartily sorry!
Up at 8 something: gagged on grounds at the bottom of my coffee.
Know it alls know it all; I am amazed by how self-righteous some American males get when it comes to politics: they think that they know it all, when, really, probably, none of us know anything.
I know that I have brought Henry over early to visit this morning. He was barking a tad next door, in his apartment, letting me know that he wanted to come over; and since I have no business phone calls to make this morning, I am glad to have his company. Henry fits right into the scene, here, with myself, my dogs, cats, and turtles. He is a joy to have about; except when he starts barking at people who pass by the abode, and butterflies who are sleeping.
My dog, Bundy, probably could have used stitches, recently, after being attacked by a neighborhood dog, but I didn't have the money to go to a vet, so I just prayed that his wound would heal. My prayers have been answered; Bundy's bottom lip is almost completely healed.
There are so many things that we think that we need in this existence; and then some that we really do. It is nice to have the things that we really need, and, also, nice when we realize that we do not need everything that we want.
Are you crazy if you sing Tom Petty songs to your dogs, and cats; and prance about the abode like you are Mick Jaggar? And why does the site of a pretty girl often make me want to break out into a Van Halen song, one of the ones that the band played when David Lee Roth was still in the band?
We're all Huge Superstars when we are cleaning the kitchen counter, and the animals are a captive audience, because they think that I am in the kitchen to get them a treat!!
I'm not sure if I should take my nap, and then take my bike ride; or if I should take my bike ride, and then take my nap.
·
Sloan Rainwater: Ride the bike. Take the nap.
Pigpen S House: If you had a stationary bike you could take a nap while riding the bike...
I decided to take the nap first, and I feel most excellent, now, for having done so, but I am going to go to the Yoga studio for practice, before I ride my bike; before I do that, though, I am going to drink this huge cup of coffee that I have made me.
All my exercise has made me tired, but the beauty of the day makes me want to stay in it, though I know(hope and pray)that another day awaits me tomorrow.
I am trying not to overeat the chili that I made this afternoon. It is a great batch, so it is a hard thing to not eat it all. I love to overeat, and then pass out on the bed, but I, now, know that that is not good for me, so I try not to do it. I think that I should walk the dogs in order to get away from the kitchen.
------------------
Pure Silence
If the world is about to end
I don't want to watch it end on the television
I don't want to listen to it end on the radio
I don't want Rush Limbaugh or Sean Hannity
or Al Bore or Obama
to tell me that it is going to end.
I want to die feeding my cats,
or taking my dogs for a walk,
oblivious to all but what I can see in front of me.
--Mikel K
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
“Sincere forgiveness isn't colored with expectations that the other person apologize or change. Don't worry whether or not they finally understand you. Love them and release them. Life feeds back truth to people in its own way and time.”--Sara Paddison
-------------------------------------
“Most of us can forgive and forget; we just don't want the other person to forget that we forgave”--Ivern Ball
--------------------------------------
“You will know that forgiveness has begun when you recall those who hurt you and feel the power to wish them well.”--Lewis B. Smedes quotes
--------------------------------------
-------------------------------------
“Most of us can forgive and forget; we just don't want the other person to forget that we forgave”--Ivern Ball
--------------------------------------
“You will know that forgiveness has begun when you recall those who hurt you and feel the power to wish them well.”--Lewis B. Smedes quotes
--------------------------------------
Monday, February 21, 2011
ANGER ISSUE
“Anger will never disappear so long as thoughts of resentment are cherished in the mind. Anger will disappear just as soon as thoughts of resentment are forgotten.”--Gautama Siddharta
"When another person makes you suffer, it is because he suffers deeply within himself, and his suffering is spilling over. He does not need punishment; he needs help. That's the message he is sending."—Thich Nhat Hanh
"People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar."--Thich Nhat Hanh
I own a book written by Thich Nhat Hanh called, "True Love." I often tell people about this book, and I am often showing people my copy of this book, though I will not lend it out to anyone, for fear that it would not come back to me, and all the knowledge in it would be taken from me.
---------------------------------------------------------------
"Because you are alive, everything is possible."
— Thich Nhat Hanh
“Anger will never disappear so long as thoughts of resentment are cherished in the mind. Anger will disappear just as soon as thoughts of resentment are forgotten.”--Gautama Siddharta
"When another person makes you suffer, it is because he suffers deeply within himself, and his suffering is spilling over. He does not need punishment; he needs help. That's the message he is sending."—Thich Nhat Hanh
"People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar."--Thich Nhat Hanh
I own a book written by Thich Nhat Hanh called, "True Love." I often tell people about this book, and I am often showing people my copy of this book, though I will not lend it out to anyone, for fear that it would not come back to me, and all the knowledge in it would be taken from me.
---------------------------------------------------------------
"Because you are alive, everything is possible."
— Thich Nhat Hanh
Saturday, February 19, 2011
44YES
It is dark, and there goes Henry, barking at The Butterflies who are asleep.
I think that even if I was a billionaire, that I would still brew my coffee at home, most of the time. Home is a great place to have your coffee. Now, as a poor boy, I buy "Joe's" coffee at TJ's, and make it mellita style. I knew that you were wondering about that. I add 2% milk to the coffee, these days. I used to always have half and half in the refridgerator, but when I decided to drop some pounds in the fat tummy, I decided that eliminating half and half would be a good idea.
This girl, who appeared to know what she was talking about, told me, the other night, that 2% milk was worse for you than whole milk, because 2% was somehow chemically processed. People are always telling me that things that I thought were good for me are not; like eggs. I was removing the yolk from my eggs, and just eating the egg whites, because that is what the dietician at my endocrinologist's office said to eat; she said that the fat in the yolk was not a good thing to eat if you were trying to lose weight. And then these other folks, arm chair experts on the internet, I will call them, said that it was best to eat the whole egg. leaving me confused.
What I need is to find some expert that tells me that it is a healthy thing to overdose on chocolate, that to pass out on your bed from eating so much of it is actually good for you.
I'm on The Love Porch cranking out great works of literature. My neighbor is playing cool music from the past: The Guess Who, James Taylor, Roberta Flack. She is cleaning, while I try to type my way into your hearts, and minds.
The dogs, hers, and mine, have all gotten real quiet. Though my neighbor's door is open, and my dogs are welcome in, they are both, Morisson, and Bundy, at my feet. I am amazed at how quiet my dogs, and hers, the great Great Danes, Henry and Anna, are when the record stops playing. (Yes she has records, and a record player, even).
"How's the cleaning going," I shout over to her, and the dogs, mine and hers, erupt. She answers, but I can barely hear her over the din of the dogs. Often, in order to preserve, peace in this world, to maintain a calm, you must keep your mouth shut.
I see a man and woman somewhere, probably in a house, on a farm. The woman leaves the door to the house wide open, so that anyone could come in. The man sits at a table typing; he has a gun nearby; out of site. They both believe in freedom, just view it in different ways. The differences make the relationship pleasant.
Cars drive by, and see the man typing. Most of them don't notice him, but people travel from the other side of the world, also, to see that man on that porch.
It is 10:20 p.m. and I have accepted a nice cup of coffee from my neighbor. At first I said no because of the time, but then I said fuck it, yes I want it; I want to stay up all night; I want this day to never end.
My neighbor said that she would drink it, and I said I told her that I was just giving her a hard time: you can't have it, it's mine.
This day was so normal. I went to The Evil Dept. Store with my neighbors, and had coffee with my neighbors at The Satanic Coffee Shop in The Bohemian part of town. I laughed. I farted. I walked the dogs. I ate. I experienced this incredibly beautiful thing called LIFE. Let's hear it for life. I'm glad as hell that I am alive, aren't you?
I just scored some blueberries at The Farmer's Market, and some chickens died for me, so that I could bring home some spicy Italian chicken sausage. Tom Petty is singing, "Free Falling," from my neighbor's stereo. I have just drank a cold hot tea with milk. I was too lazy to take the tea in from The Love Porch to The Microwave Oven, and warm it.
It's another beautiful day, here in Paradise. Paradise is in your head. If you are feeling good, Paradise is wherever you are at.
----------------------------------
Up at seven. You are not broke if you spend your money on traveling; you will always have the wealth of your experiences. I have traveled from one side of this city to the other. I know it like the back of my hand. It is my land.
---------------------------------
I forgot to feed the cats; oh no, I forgot to feed the cats; will they ever forgive me?!
Jaggar, and Kobain sleep with me, each on one side, Kobain next to my ribs, Jaggar out of reach of my hands. When I rise, they run to their food bowls, and stand at attention next to them. Kobain will stand there all day, until he gets fed his morning wet food snack. Jaggar is more nonchalant; he has better things to do with his time, than protest.
Well, the cats have been fed, and Kobain got to share in my morning sandwich, so I am going to go back to bed, and get some more beauty sleep; Lord knows I need it!
It is dark, and there goes Henry, barking at The Butterflies who are asleep.
I think that even if I was a billionaire, that I would still brew my coffee at home, most of the time. Home is a great place to have your coffee. Now, as a poor boy, I buy "Joe's" coffee at TJ's, and make it mellita style. I knew that you were wondering about that. I add 2% milk to the coffee, these days. I used to always have half and half in the refridgerator, but when I decided to drop some pounds in the fat tummy, I decided that eliminating half and half would be a good idea.
This girl, who appeared to know what she was talking about, told me, the other night, that 2% milk was worse for you than whole milk, because 2% was somehow chemically processed. People are always telling me that things that I thought were good for me are not; like eggs. I was removing the yolk from my eggs, and just eating the egg whites, because that is what the dietician at my endocrinologist's office said to eat; she said that the fat in the yolk was not a good thing to eat if you were trying to lose weight. And then these other folks, arm chair experts on the internet, I will call them, said that it was best to eat the whole egg. leaving me confused.
What I need is to find some expert that tells me that it is a healthy thing to overdose on chocolate, that to pass out on your bed from eating so much of it is actually good for you.
I'm on The Love Porch cranking out great works of literature. My neighbor is playing cool music from the past: The Guess Who, James Taylor, Roberta Flack. She is cleaning, while I try to type my way into your hearts, and minds.
The dogs, hers, and mine, have all gotten real quiet. Though my neighbor's door is open, and my dogs are welcome in, they are both, Morisson, and Bundy, at my feet. I am amazed at how quiet my dogs, and hers, the great Great Danes, Henry and Anna, are when the record stops playing. (Yes she has records, and a record player, even).
"How's the cleaning going," I shout over to her, and the dogs, mine and hers, erupt. She answers, but I can barely hear her over the din of the dogs. Often, in order to preserve, peace in this world, to maintain a calm, you must keep your mouth shut.
I see a man and woman somewhere, probably in a house, on a farm. The woman leaves the door to the house wide open, so that anyone could come in. The man sits at a table typing; he has a gun nearby; out of site. They both believe in freedom, just view it in different ways. The differences make the relationship pleasant.
Cars drive by, and see the man typing. Most of them don't notice him, but people travel from the other side of the world, also, to see that man on that porch.
It is 10:20 p.m. and I have accepted a nice cup of coffee from my neighbor. At first I said no because of the time, but then I said fuck it, yes I want it; I want to stay up all night; I want this day to never end.
My neighbor said that she would drink it, and I said I told her that I was just giving her a hard time: you can't have it, it's mine.
This day was so normal. I went to The Evil Dept. Store with my neighbors, and had coffee with my neighbors at The Satanic Coffee Shop in The Bohemian part of town. I laughed. I farted. I walked the dogs. I ate. I experienced this incredibly beautiful thing called LIFE. Let's hear it for life. I'm glad as hell that I am alive, aren't you?
I just scored some blueberries at The Farmer's Market, and some chickens died for me, so that I could bring home some spicy Italian chicken sausage. Tom Petty is singing, "Free Falling," from my neighbor's stereo. I have just drank a cold hot tea with milk. I was too lazy to take the tea in from The Love Porch to The Microwave Oven, and warm it.
It's another beautiful day, here in Paradise. Paradise is in your head. If you are feeling good, Paradise is wherever you are at.
----------------------------------
Up at seven. You are not broke if you spend your money on traveling; you will always have the wealth of your experiences. I have traveled from one side of this city to the other. I know it like the back of my hand. It is my land.
---------------------------------
I forgot to feed the cats; oh no, I forgot to feed the cats; will they ever forgive me?!
Jaggar, and Kobain sleep with me, each on one side, Kobain next to my ribs, Jaggar out of reach of my hands. When I rise, they run to their food bowls, and stand at attention next to them. Kobain will stand there all day, until he gets fed his morning wet food snack. Jaggar is more nonchalant; he has better things to do with his time, than protest.
Well, the cats have been fed, and Kobain got to share in my morning sandwich, so I am going to go back to bed, and get some more beauty sleep; Lord knows I need it!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
SCARED KOBAIN MAGAZINE ARTICLE
My cat, Kobain, is scared of me, right now, because I punched him in the face for eating off of my lunch plate that was sitting on my desk waiting for me to sit down and eat off of it. I bet that that poor cat Kobain doesn't know a full food plate from one with a few scraps left on it, and I, mostly, let him lick the scrap filled plates, though I don't really like him doing it.
I feel like shit. I love that fucking cat, and I do not want him scared of me. I do not like that I hit him harder than I should have; a tap on the nose with a finger, and a vocal NO would have been enough. I come from a place of violence; it is a lonely, painful place that I do not wish to return to: I still have scars, and a broken pinky from those drunken daze. I pray for guidance in this situation; I don't feel helpless, but there is, certainly, an element of helplessness to this that comes from doing something wrong when you did it without even thinking about it.
Kobain forgive me.
My dog, Bundy, might need to go to the vet because of the bite that he received, yesterday,from one of the two vicious dogs that live around the block from us. This sucks for Bundy, and will suck for me, as I will have to try to figure out how to pay for stitches for my poor dog. It amazes me how you can be going along living your life peacefully, when all of a sudden violence bursts in and takes over. This too shall pass, and that which doesn't kill me only makes me grow stronger.
Lisa: I did not press like because I like this entry about "punch" ing your cat, but I admire your honesty. Be sure it never happens again: to do that, anger-management is in order. Our companion animals deserve that we love them, not abuse them.
Michele: Oh, Mikel, I'm so sorry this is going on. Violence begets violence for sure. There must have been some stagnant leftover energy from the dog-bite yesterday. Forgive yourself, Kobain will, if not already.
Michele: And I hope you find someone to help with Bundy. Try the Humane Society. They may take care of the stitches for you. You must not let it get infected. What about the owner of the dog that bit him?
Lisa: Michele, I agree... Probably left- over anger. Please seek help for you--Mikel, and Cobain and your sweet doggie. Great suggestion from Michele for Humane Society. Good luck.
Pigpen: Bad Mikel Bad... invest in a squirt gun... that should solve your problem...
David: Well with that name you give to the Feline, I am surprised it hasn't gotten "Suicidal" on you.
Cassandra: Relax, a cat's brains are the size of walnuts, and he will have forgotten it by tomorrow; just don't do it again. Use a squirt gun.
Lisa: Hi Mikel...Truly, a quick "clap" will do it. We trained German Shepherds(my family--even had a Champion. Animals learn by "association", so if a dog or cat hears "No!" with a quick clap, the sound and word will tell her/him it's very bad to do whatever that behavior is.
The squirt-gun, which squirts water, which is still hurtful, unfortunately, becomes "part" of your hand/you, so the animal will. still. fear. you.
The clap is simply "startling", and animals HATE that, so they'll quit the behavior.
And hey--don't confuse the cat by often letting her lick your plate, then getting mad when she does so, on her own. End that practice, so she understands it is NOT acceptable.Put the scraps you ALLOW her to have, in HER bowl. :D
Cassandra: Squirting a cat with water is not hurtful. Geeziz. They don't like it but that's kind of the point of discipline. But, I totally agree a loud sound is often more appropriate. Just if you need to discipline a specific behavior there are times you need to do it from across the room. Squirt gun comes in terrifc then. And yes, don't ever let a pet eat off your plate. Put scraps in their bowl. Too late for Bundy probably.
Kathryn: That's why I don't have cats anymore. They never learn lessons like dogs do!! They love to jump on kitchen counters and wag their tails on your food, gross!!
Cassandra: Every cat I've had I've taught to not jump on table/counter by hissing at them and shoving them off. If you do it early, they stop trying. mostly. Shadow is still known to sneak on the table every now and then. but he hops down if he sees one of us coming ha ha
Mikel K Poet: I just shook the cat treats bottle for the second time, and again Kobain came running to get him a snack. He, now doesn't seem scared of me, and is back on our bed hanging out like he usually does. There is a lesson in this, though, and I believe that I have learned it. Thank you all for your input on this matter; it was hard to admit such a thing to the world.
Conchita del Mundo: Is that the first time Bundy has been bitten?
Mikel K Poet: Yes.
Conchita del Mundo: Not that bad considering then; sorry he got bit, though.
Karen: Mikel, you are, indeed, a brave man. And I really hope that someone can help pay for the vet visit. Do you have a Care Credit card, and will your vet--or another really good vet--take it? I've been unemployed for 18+ months, and there have been some very expensive, critical vet emergencies during that time. Care Credit has been a HUGE help! (NB: It's the only credit I've used since being laid off. And I have it almost paid off.)
Karen: Mikel, this is not a " P.S." It merits a separate comment: Take very good care of you. Hugs, Karen
Cynthia June @ Cassandra: We use a water squirter on the dogs all the time - when they bark at every person walking past the house (or dog walking) we have 3 dogs and they all start a high pitched yip altogether that pierces one's brains and makes people nuts. Thanks to the water squirting I only have to say "I'll squirt you!" and they all stop - in unison. Very cool idea! I did drop kick a cat out of my house that attacked my son when he was little. I don't think squirting it with water would have satisfied me. or trained that psycho kitty, or made my son feel better. I simply booted him outta my house and away from my little boy. (shame!)
Sheila: Geez. That's abusive and cruel. You could make more food. I hope you are teasing.
Mikel K Poet: Kobain didn't come onto the bed and dig his head into my hand, last night, demanding to be petted, as he normally does, but he did show up on time to receive his morning breakfast of wet cat food. I petted him on the face, as he waited for his food, and he was receptive; he didn't seem scared at all. It is Valentine's Day, and one of my Facebook friends suggested that we say, "I love you," to our pets, also.
Kobain, I love you, and I am extremely sorry for what happened yesterday. I am filled with a guilt that I hope will leave me, as you hopefully fully return to me.
Kobain just came into the kitchen to the sound of the refrigerator door opening, as he always does. I lifted him up, petted him, and told him that I loved him; then I put some frozen ground turkey meat in his bowl. I love my animals, and want to treat them with love, and respect. There is no place for fear in this home. There is no place for violence. I will not relapse to hold habits. I will move forward in peace, and love.
Kobain just got up on his back legs, and put his front paws on my left leg, and begged for some of my oatmeal. I droppes some on the floor for him, and he came back for more.
___________
KOBAIN GOT OUT...he slipped out the door while Jeremy, and I, were taking a leaking refrigerator out of the apartment, and bringing in one that works. I saw Kobain heading down the steps towards the back yard; I blew kisses, he looked over his shoulder for a moment but kept on trotting. I am torn up with wonder of if yesterday has anything to do with him running away today; everything has consequences.
Bundy just pushed on the screen door, that was not completely latched behind me, as I stepped out onto the front porch to see if Kobain had come back. Bundy pushed the door a bit with his nose. Both Bundy, and I, know that he is good at pushing on doors, and getting out. I wonder if the other animals that comprise our family know that Kobain has flown the coop. Who else would like to leave me, I wonder.
Up at 5:30 am; Morisson waiting by the side of the bed to be petted, tail wagging; Bundy still asleep on his bed; the cats waiting by their bowls to be fed their wet cat food breakfast. It is starting off to be a normal day here at The K Hotel.
My coffee gets cold waiting for me to get off of Facebook. Facebook can be evil like crack, an addiction that consumes you, or it can be your best friend, keeping you in touch with old friends, helping you to make new ones.
Kobain is back to normal, except that he is not sleeping on the bed with me; he does not jump up on the bed the second that I lay down on it, and dig his head into my hand, demanding that I pet him, demanding that I scratch him. He is not, then, laying next to me for most of the night. He still has trust issues, I think; but I also think that he will trust me, again, eventually. I am a good man. I love my cat.
Up at 5:30 am; Morisson waiting by the side of the bed to be petted, tail wagging; Bundy still asleep on his bed; the cats waiting by their bowls to be fed their wet cat food breakfast. It is starting off to be a normal day here at The K Hotel.
My coffee gets cold waiting for me to get off of Facebook. Facebook can be evil like crack, an addiction that consumes you, or it can be your best friend, keeping you in touch with old friends, helping you to make new ones.
Kobain is back to normal, except that he is not sleeping on the bed with me; he does not jump up on the bed the second that I lay down on it, and dig his head into my hand, demanding that I pet him, demanding that I scratch him. He is not, then, laying next to me for most of the night. He still has trust issues, I think; but I also think that he will trust me, again, eventually. I am a good man. I love my cat.
Kobain came back to the bed, came back to my hand, this afternoon, right after I had lay down to take a nap. He let me rub his head, and scratch his head, as he always does. Later he was whining at the front door, like he used to do, when he was an indoor outdoor cat, whining to be let out' only he won't be let out of this house because the traffic is too great about it. He will have to sneak out, and then I will have to worry about him, once again.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Later he was whining at the front door, like he used to do, when he was an indoor outdoor cat, whining to be let out' only he won't be let out of this house because the traffic is too great about it. He will have to sneak out, and then I will have to worry about him, once again.
--Mikel K
My cat, Kobain, is scared of me, right now, because I punched him in the face for eating off of my lunch plate that was sitting on my desk waiting for me to sit down and eat off of it. I bet that that poor cat Kobain doesn't know a full food plate from one with a few scraps left on it, and I, mostly, let him lick the scrap filled plates, though I don't really like him doing it.
I feel like shit. I love that fucking cat, and I do not want him scared of me. I do not like that I hit him harder than I should have; a tap on the nose with a finger, and a vocal NO would have been enough. I come from a place of violence; it is a lonely, painful place that I do not wish to return to: I still have scars, and a broken pinky from those drunken daze. I pray for guidance in this situation; I don't feel helpless, but there is, certainly, an element of helplessness to this that comes from doing something wrong when you did it without even thinking about it.
Kobain forgive me.
My dog, Bundy, might need to go to the vet because of the bite that he received, yesterday,from one of the two vicious dogs that live around the block from us. This sucks for Bundy, and will suck for me, as I will have to try to figure out how to pay for stitches for my poor dog. It amazes me how you can be going along living your life peacefully, when all of a sudden violence bursts in and takes over. This too shall pass, and that which doesn't kill me only makes me grow stronger.
Lisa: I did not press like because I like this entry about "punch" ing your cat, but I admire your honesty. Be sure it never happens again: to do that, anger-management is in order. Our companion animals deserve that we love them, not abuse them.
Michele: Oh, Mikel, I'm so sorry this is going on. Violence begets violence for sure. There must have been some stagnant leftover energy from the dog-bite yesterday. Forgive yourself, Kobain will, if not already.
Michele: And I hope you find someone to help with Bundy. Try the Humane Society. They may take care of the stitches for you. You must not let it get infected. What about the owner of the dog that bit him?
Lisa: Michele, I agree... Probably left- over anger. Please seek help for you--Mikel, and Cobain and your sweet doggie. Great suggestion from Michele for Humane Society. Good luck.
Pigpen: Bad Mikel Bad... invest in a squirt gun... that should solve your problem...
David: Well with that name you give to the Feline, I am surprised it hasn't gotten "Suicidal" on you.
Cassandra: Relax, a cat's brains are the size of walnuts, and he will have forgotten it by tomorrow; just don't do it again. Use a squirt gun.
Lisa: Hi Mikel...Truly, a quick "clap" will do it. We trained German Shepherds(my family--even had a Champion. Animals learn by "association", so if a dog or cat hears "No!" with a quick clap, the sound and word will tell her/him it's very bad to do whatever that behavior is.
The squirt-gun, which squirts water, which is still hurtful, unfortunately, becomes "part" of your hand/you, so the animal will. still. fear. you.
The clap is simply "startling", and animals HATE that, so they'll quit the behavior.
And hey--don't confuse the cat by often letting her lick your plate, then getting mad when she does so, on her own. End that practice, so she understands it is NOT acceptable.Put the scraps you ALLOW her to have, in HER bowl. :D
Cassandra: Squirting a cat with water is not hurtful. Geeziz. They don't like it but that's kind of the point of discipline. But, I totally agree a loud sound is often more appropriate. Just if you need to discipline a specific behavior there are times you need to do it from across the room. Squirt gun comes in terrifc then. And yes, don't ever let a pet eat off your plate. Put scraps in their bowl. Too late for Bundy probably.
Kathryn: That's why I don't have cats anymore. They never learn lessons like dogs do!! They love to jump on kitchen counters and wag their tails on your food, gross!!
Cassandra: Every cat I've had I've taught to not jump on table/counter by hissing at them and shoving them off. If you do it early, they stop trying. mostly. Shadow is still known to sneak on the table every now and then. but he hops down if he sees one of us coming ha ha
Mikel K Poet: I just shook the cat treats bottle for the second time, and again Kobain came running to get him a snack. He, now doesn't seem scared of me, and is back on our bed hanging out like he usually does. There is a lesson in this, though, and I believe that I have learned it. Thank you all for your input on this matter; it was hard to admit such a thing to the world.
Conchita del Mundo: Is that the first time Bundy has been bitten?
Mikel K Poet: Yes.
Conchita del Mundo: Not that bad considering then; sorry he got bit, though.
Karen: Mikel, you are, indeed, a brave man. And I really hope that someone can help pay for the vet visit. Do you have a Care Credit card, and will your vet--or another really good vet--take it? I've been unemployed for 18+ months, and there have been some very expensive, critical vet emergencies during that time. Care Credit has been a HUGE help! (NB: It's the only credit I've used since being laid off. And I have it almost paid off.)
Karen: Mikel, this is not a " P.S." It merits a separate comment: Take very good care of you. Hugs, Karen
Cynthia June @ Cassandra: We use a water squirter on the dogs all the time - when they bark at every person walking past the house (or dog walking) we have 3 dogs and they all start a high pitched yip altogether that pierces one's brains and makes people nuts. Thanks to the water squirting I only have to say "I'll squirt you!" and they all stop - in unison. Very cool idea! I did drop kick a cat out of my house that attacked my son when he was little. I don't think squirting it with water would have satisfied me. or trained that psycho kitty, or made my son feel better. I simply booted him outta my house and away from my little boy. (shame!)
Sheila: Geez. That's abusive and cruel. You could make more food. I hope you are teasing.
Mikel K Poet: Kobain didn't come onto the bed and dig his head into my hand, last night, demanding to be petted, as he normally does, but he did show up on time to receive his morning breakfast of wet cat food. I petted him on the face, as he waited for his food, and he was receptive; he didn't seem scared at all. It is Valentine's Day, and one of my Facebook friends suggested that we say, "I love you," to our pets, also.
Kobain, I love you, and I am extremely sorry for what happened yesterday. I am filled with a guilt that I hope will leave me, as you hopefully fully return to me.
Kobain just came into the kitchen to the sound of the refrigerator door opening, as he always does. I lifted him up, petted him, and told him that I loved him; then I put some frozen ground turkey meat in his bowl. I love my animals, and want to treat them with love, and respect. There is no place for fear in this home. There is no place for violence. I will not relapse to hold habits. I will move forward in peace, and love.
Kobain just got up on his back legs, and put his front paws on my left leg, and begged for some of my oatmeal. I droppes some on the floor for him, and he came back for more.
___________
KOBAIN GOT OUT...he slipped out the door while Jeremy, and I, were taking a leaking refrigerator out of the apartment, and bringing in one that works. I saw Kobain heading down the steps towards the back yard; I blew kisses, he looked over his shoulder for a moment but kept on trotting. I am torn up with wonder of if yesterday has anything to do with him running away today; everything has consequences.
Bundy just pushed on the screen door, that was not completely latched behind me, as I stepped out onto the front porch to see if Kobain had come back. Bundy pushed the door a bit with his nose. Both Bundy, and I, know that he is good at pushing on doors, and getting out. I wonder if the other animals that comprise our family know that Kobain has flown the coop. Who else would like to leave me, I wonder.
Up at 5:30 am; Morisson waiting by the side of the bed to be petted, tail wagging; Bundy still asleep on his bed; the cats waiting by their bowls to be fed their wet cat food breakfast. It is starting off to be a normal day here at The K Hotel.
My coffee gets cold waiting for me to get off of Facebook. Facebook can be evil like crack, an addiction that consumes you, or it can be your best friend, keeping you in touch with old friends, helping you to make new ones.
Kobain is back to normal, except that he is not sleeping on the bed with me; he does not jump up on the bed the second that I lay down on it, and dig his head into my hand, demanding that I pet him, demanding that I scratch him. He is not, then, laying next to me for most of the night. He still has trust issues, I think; but I also think that he will trust me, again, eventually. I am a good man. I love my cat.
Up at 5:30 am; Morisson waiting by the side of the bed to be petted, tail wagging; Bundy still asleep on his bed; the cats waiting by their bowls to be fed their wet cat food breakfast. It is starting off to be a normal day here at The K Hotel.
My coffee gets cold waiting for me to get off of Facebook. Facebook can be evil like crack, an addiction that consumes you, or it can be your best friend, keeping you in touch with old friends, helping you to make new ones.
Kobain is back to normal, except that he is not sleeping on the bed with me; he does not jump up on the bed the second that I lay down on it, and dig his head into my hand, demanding that I pet him, demanding that I scratch him. He is not, then, laying next to me for most of the night. He still has trust issues, I think; but I also think that he will trust me, again, eventually. I am a good man. I love my cat.
Kobain came back to the bed, came back to my hand, this afternoon, right after I had lay down to take a nap. He let me rub his head, and scratch his head, as he always does. Later he was whining at the front door, like he used to do, when he was an indoor outdoor cat, whining to be let out' only he won't be let out of this house because the traffic is too great about it. He will have to sneak out, and then I will have to worry about him, once again.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Later he was whining at the front door, like he used to do, when he was an indoor outdoor cat, whining to be let out' only he won't be let out of this house because the traffic is too great about it. He will have to sneak out, and then I will have to worry about him, once again.
--Mikel K
Saturday, February 12, 2011
GALLERY 1526 MARCH 18 PR BLURB
The events at Gallery 1526 are spectacular. It is a large, and friendly gallery. The food is great, the wind flows, the curator is charismatic, and professional. Check it out.
--------------------------
19 March at 19:00 - 20 March at 00:00
Location gallery1526 @ encyclomedia/ (Next to Candler Park Marta)
1526 dekalb ave ne
Created by:
gallery1526
More info Our first show of 2011! "COTERIE"
Of course..it is FREE!!!
---------------------------------------------------
Traditional Opening: 7pm-9pm
After Party- 9pm-12am
Complimentary bevs and tasties
Free Parking/ also please use Marta if you can- parking at Marta is open.
Look For our BANNER!!
--------------------------------------------------
WE WELCOME ARTISTS:
Chad Shore:
Chad has been known to say- if you put something in front of him...he will make it look good. He is so talented and has made his name known in not only modern pop art circles, but also in the clothing business with his label, Sixtus. He is a painter, a sculpture, and a visionary who is always looking into new mediums in which he can express himself. We will be seeing more of CSHORE I can assure you. We will also host his high fashion clothing during our 3 day spectacular this May!!
www.chadshore.com
Christian Waggoner:
Well known for his Star Wars photo-realism... he is quite the living legend. Christian Waggoner is an absolute talent. He has moved audiences since he began painting and now he will be showing BRAND NEW pieces for the first time in 3 years. You must come to experience all sides of Waggoner. The Atlanta art scene has been revolutionized and many thanks due to his masterful influence. We are very honored to show his work.
We will also have a huge section devoted to photography for this show- with artists and photographers there to met and talk with you!!!
Other artists/ photographers include favorites:
Kevin Sims
Melanieb.Pierce
Kyle Renz
Terry Scopelliti
Andrew Kornylak
Tiffany Farmer
Tim Richardson
Andrew T Crawford
Brent Van Daley
Prints are available upon request for participating artists.
Cash and Check accepted for art purchases-
Some artists have paypal for your CC purchases.
GALLERY1526 IS ATLANTA'S Premiere ARTIST"S GALLERY. THE COMMISSION IS REDUCED TO 10% . We are here to promote art- All profits are to assist in show costs and the artist- not for gallery profit. No hanging fees- EVER!
WE INVITE ALL GALLERY OWNERS TO SEE OUR TALENTED GROUP AND WELCOME YOU TO CONTACT THE ARTISTS.
GO FORTH..AND CREATE.
Contact:
Melanie B. Pierce
curator
OR
Rachel Besch
designer/planner
info@gallery1526.com
The events at Gallery 1526 are spectacular. It is a large, and friendly gallery. The food is great, the wind flows, the curator is charismatic, and professional. Check it out.
--------------------------
19 March at 19:00 - 20 March at 00:00
Location gallery1526 @ encyclomedia/ (Next to Candler Park Marta)
1526 dekalb ave ne
Created by:
gallery1526
More info Our first show of 2011! "COTERIE"
Of course..it is FREE!!!
---------------------------------------------------
Traditional Opening: 7pm-9pm
After Party- 9pm-12am
Complimentary bevs and tasties
Free Parking/ also please use Marta if you can- parking at Marta is open.
Look For our BANNER!!
--------------------------------------------------
WE WELCOME ARTISTS:
Chad Shore:
Chad has been known to say- if you put something in front of him...he will make it look good. He is so talented and has made his name known in not only modern pop art circles, but also in the clothing business with his label, Sixtus. He is a painter, a sculpture, and a visionary who is always looking into new mediums in which he can express himself. We will be seeing more of CSHORE I can assure you. We will also host his high fashion clothing during our 3 day spectacular this May!!
www.chadshore.com
Christian Waggoner:
Well known for his Star Wars photo-realism... he is quite the living legend. Christian Waggoner is an absolute talent. He has moved audiences since he began painting and now he will be showing BRAND NEW pieces for the first time in 3 years. You must come to experience all sides of Waggoner. The Atlanta art scene has been revolutionized and many thanks due to his masterful influence. We are very honored to show his work.
We will also have a huge section devoted to photography for this show- with artists and photographers there to met and talk with you!!!
Other artists/ photographers include favorites:
Kevin Sims
Melanieb.Pierce
Kyle Renz
Terry Scopelliti
Andrew Kornylak
Tiffany Farmer
Tim Richardson
Andrew T Crawford
Brent Van Daley
Prints are available upon request for participating artists.
Cash and Check accepted for art purchases-
Some artists have paypal for your CC purchases.
GALLERY1526 IS ATLANTA'S Premiere ARTIST"S GALLERY. THE COMMISSION IS REDUCED TO 10% . We are here to promote art- All profits are to assist in show costs and the artist- not for gallery profit. No hanging fees- EVER!
WE INVITE ALL GALLERY OWNERS TO SEE OUR TALENTED GROUP AND WELCOME YOU TO CONTACT THE ARTISTS.
GO FORTH..AND CREATE.
Contact:
Melanie B. Pierce
curator
OR
Rachel Besch
designer/planner
info@gallery1526.com
43 YES The Daily K: It's great to be alive.
I'm going to save the planet one less toilet flush at a time.
Up at five a.m. I took Henry, Bundy, and Morisson outside to do their thing. Anna just looked up at us from Bundy's bed, where she had spent the night, as if we were crazy for being up so early.
Bundy is so nice to have shared his bed. He curled up in his second favorite place, which is by the front door, and next to my bed, without complaining at all about sharing his bed for the night. Anna, and Henry, the great Great Danes, who live next door, were glad to spend the night with us, as their mom and pop are headed to The Grammys tomorrow night.
It is a beautiful morning, a beautiful day to be alive.
I have been sickened by inhaling a mixture of cigarette butts, and warm beer, from a bottle that someone, or someones, had used as an ashtray. I have survived nights in the drunk tank, covered in blood and puke: the puke my own, the blood probably a mixture of mine, and somebody else's; who I would not remember after coming out of my blackout. I have survived visits to state mental institutions zonked out on LSD, and decades of drinking almost every night to a stupor. I have survived the loss of loves that I didn't think that I could survive the loss of. I am a survivor, and I am bless to be alive, and happy, today.
-----------------------------------
Up at 1:32 a.m. after crashing at 10:30 p.m. I had the most pleasant Chinese food dinner with my two favorite neighbors, but I overate, and ate too fast, and nearly got sick. I had to lay down, and leave the good company on The Love Porch to carry on the evening by themselves. Bundy stayed on the porch with the ladies, and interfered with my sleep by constantly barking up a storm about I don't know what. I'm going to spend a couple of hours at the lap top, cranking out poems like a madman might crack out hallucinations on crack.
The next morning,fully recovered from making a pig of myself, I am listening to The Ramones, while sipping on hot tea with milk, anticipating a walk with the dogs when the tea has hit the bottom of the cup. It is a lovely day out there. It is very hard to believe that it is February, and not April.
The Good Neighbors, and I, just got back from one of The Evil Empire Deptartment stores. There is such stress in this life trying to figure out where you can shop where the owners and stock holders are not fascist pigs. Where is there for a man to go to get socks that he can afford? Traffic sucked on the way to store; we had our top down, but so did the rest of civilization.
I had to wonder why so many people, and, specifically, why so many good looking women were at a department store when they could have been / should have been at the park. Of course, I could ask this of myself, but like I just told you, I needed socks. I haven't haven't had a new pair of socks in three, maybe four years. Many of the socks that I have are full of holes, and the ones that are not full of holes are mismatched. I hate to wear mismatched socks; it somehow throws me off balance.
I bought a new spatula, too, a blue one, where the other two spatulas that I have in my kitchen are black. I'm expanding my consciousness, perhaps. I jokingly told one of the two ladies who I was with that I was buying the spatula to spank the woman who I am sometimes with, who wasn't with us now.
The woman who I was with shot me a ha ha look of sorts, and continued pushing her shopping cart through the pet section. I could see a couple of huge rawhide dog bones in her cart, and I knew that her dogs, and my dogs would be fighing over those bones sometime soon, probably when she was drinking wine, and I was drinking coffee, as we are prone to do, from time to time. in her kitchen.
Life is good today. The woman who said ha ha, and the other woman who I was with took a brief stroll through a populated bohemian part of town, where it now costs at least four bucks to park,
found ourselves a nice table on a patio, where I could sip on coffee, and the ladies could sip on some exotic drinks, the name of which now escapes me. Some guy has to climb a cold mountain, and come back with some exotic flowers that are then fermented, or somehow some other way turned into the booze, was what one of the ladies told me.
One of the women who I was with, the one who had not said ha ha, only drank half of her drink, because she had recently had open heart surgery, and really shouldn't have been drinking at all, but you know how it is: you can't tell people what to do. Life is funny like that; I spent nearly half a century trying to get God, government, my fellow man and woman, to do what I wanted them to do, and then someone taught me that you can't control the behavior of others, just your reaction to them, to what they do, or say.
Well, for me, learning this was much akin to what another man, or woman, might have felt upon entering a Buddhist Monastary, and after having been there for awhile, had The Great Awakening. I mean it was deep. I did't have to hit people because they pissed me off; I didn't have to yell at them because they yelled at me; I didn't have to get depressed because they bummed me out. I was me, separate from them, and I could control me, in relation to them, in what I said, and did.
How the hell I had missed out on this concept for such a major portion of my life was amazing to me. I was suddenly reborn. I was born again withouth turning myself over to a man who had supposedly risen from the dead, and allegedly could turn fish into more fish, and water into wine; concepts that I could not wrap my brain around, short of seeing them as manipulative stories by some men trying to control other men, and woman.
Anyway, peace on earth to all of us. I had a great day, and I hope that you had a great day, also, whatever you beilieve in whatever shape your socks are in.
----------------------------------------------------
Up at 7:02 with the usual, beautiful start to my day: head rubs to the demanding dogs, make the coffee, feed the cats the wet cat food that they are standing by their bowls waiting for, take the dogs outside, feed the dogs, and then sit down to the puter with the coffee to see what words are waiting to come into the world. I have said it before, and I will say it again, it is a huge blessing to be alive, and I am thrilled to be here for another day.
It's time to walk the dogs; what a pretty day to scoop up poop in.
It was a laborious walk, until near the end, when the dogs got tired, and didn't pull me back, and forth, and left, and right.
Like Tom Petty said, the waiting is the hardest part...especially waiting in the doctor's office, like I just did. Bundy has a spot of sour cream on his face between his eyes that fell on him while I was eating some home made nachos. He looks silly, and sweet, at the same time. I wonder if Morisson will lick it off of him?
Mikel K Poet: And on the walk, several bags were filled with poop.
Dennis The Menace:: Why do you pick up the poop?
Mary Beth Russell: Because it would be rude to leave a pile of poop
in Downtown Atlanta! Not all of us are in the country :)
Mikel K Poet I think that it is illegal, also, Mary Beth. I'd hate to be in The Big House, and Bubba asks, "What you in for," and I'd have to say, Poop!"
By five thirty the dogs realize that there is no food going to be handed out, just yet, and they lay back down, and go to sleep, again. Henry had tried to outwit me, and get his face into the cats wet food breakfast. Fortunately, Henry understands the word, "No," and his persisent efforts were persistently thwarted.
That's it for now. Have a pleasant day. It's great to be alive.
I'm going to save the planet one less toilet flush at a time.
Up at five a.m. I took Henry, Bundy, and Morisson outside to do their thing. Anna just looked up at us from Bundy's bed, where she had spent the night, as if we were crazy for being up so early.
Bundy is so nice to have shared his bed. He curled up in his second favorite place, which is by the front door, and next to my bed, without complaining at all about sharing his bed for the night. Anna, and Henry, the great Great Danes, who live next door, were glad to spend the night with us, as their mom and pop are headed to The Grammys tomorrow night.
It is a beautiful morning, a beautiful day to be alive.
I have been sickened by inhaling a mixture of cigarette butts, and warm beer, from a bottle that someone, or someones, had used as an ashtray. I have survived nights in the drunk tank, covered in blood and puke: the puke my own, the blood probably a mixture of mine, and somebody else's; who I would not remember after coming out of my blackout. I have survived visits to state mental institutions zonked out on LSD, and decades of drinking almost every night to a stupor. I have survived the loss of loves that I didn't think that I could survive the loss of. I am a survivor, and I am bless to be alive, and happy, today.
-----------------------------------
Up at 1:32 a.m. after crashing at 10:30 p.m. I had the most pleasant Chinese food dinner with my two favorite neighbors, but I overate, and ate too fast, and nearly got sick. I had to lay down, and leave the good company on The Love Porch to carry on the evening by themselves. Bundy stayed on the porch with the ladies, and interfered with my sleep by constantly barking up a storm about I don't know what. I'm going to spend a couple of hours at the lap top, cranking out poems like a madman might crack out hallucinations on crack.
The next morning,fully recovered from making a pig of myself, I am listening to The Ramones, while sipping on hot tea with milk, anticipating a walk with the dogs when the tea has hit the bottom of the cup. It is a lovely day out there. It is very hard to believe that it is February, and not April.
The Good Neighbors, and I, just got back from one of The Evil Empire Deptartment stores. There is such stress in this life trying to figure out where you can shop where the owners and stock holders are not fascist pigs. Where is there for a man to go to get socks that he can afford? Traffic sucked on the way to store; we had our top down, but so did the rest of civilization.
I had to wonder why so many people, and, specifically, why so many good looking women were at a department store when they could have been / should have been at the park. Of course, I could ask this of myself, but like I just told you, I needed socks. I haven't haven't had a new pair of socks in three, maybe four years. Many of the socks that I have are full of holes, and the ones that are not full of holes are mismatched. I hate to wear mismatched socks; it somehow throws me off balance.
I bought a new spatula, too, a blue one, where the other two spatulas that I have in my kitchen are black. I'm expanding my consciousness, perhaps. I jokingly told one of the two ladies who I was with that I was buying the spatula to spank the woman who I am sometimes with, who wasn't with us now.
The woman who I was with shot me a ha ha look of sorts, and continued pushing her shopping cart through the pet section. I could see a couple of huge rawhide dog bones in her cart, and I knew that her dogs, and my dogs would be fighing over those bones sometime soon, probably when she was drinking wine, and I was drinking coffee, as we are prone to do, from time to time. in her kitchen.
Life is good today. The woman who said ha ha, and the other woman who I was with took a brief stroll through a populated bohemian part of town, where it now costs at least four bucks to park,
found ourselves a nice table on a patio, where I could sip on coffee, and the ladies could sip on some exotic drinks, the name of which now escapes me. Some guy has to climb a cold mountain, and come back with some exotic flowers that are then fermented, or somehow some other way turned into the booze, was what one of the ladies told me.
One of the women who I was with, the one who had not said ha ha, only drank half of her drink, because she had recently had open heart surgery, and really shouldn't have been drinking at all, but you know how it is: you can't tell people what to do. Life is funny like that; I spent nearly half a century trying to get God, government, my fellow man and woman, to do what I wanted them to do, and then someone taught me that you can't control the behavior of others, just your reaction to them, to what they do, or say.
Well, for me, learning this was much akin to what another man, or woman, might have felt upon entering a Buddhist Monastary, and after having been there for awhile, had The Great Awakening. I mean it was deep. I did't have to hit people because they pissed me off; I didn't have to yell at them because they yelled at me; I didn't have to get depressed because they bummed me out. I was me, separate from them, and I could control me, in relation to them, in what I said, and did.
How the hell I had missed out on this concept for such a major portion of my life was amazing to me. I was suddenly reborn. I was born again withouth turning myself over to a man who had supposedly risen from the dead, and allegedly could turn fish into more fish, and water into wine; concepts that I could not wrap my brain around, short of seeing them as manipulative stories by some men trying to control other men, and woman.
Anyway, peace on earth to all of us. I had a great day, and I hope that you had a great day, also, whatever you beilieve in whatever shape your socks are in.
----------------------------------------------------
Up at 7:02 with the usual, beautiful start to my day: head rubs to the demanding dogs, make the coffee, feed the cats the wet cat food that they are standing by their bowls waiting for, take the dogs outside, feed the dogs, and then sit down to the puter with the coffee to see what words are waiting to come into the world. I have said it before, and I will say it again, it is a huge blessing to be alive, and I am thrilled to be here for another day.
It's time to walk the dogs; what a pretty day to scoop up poop in.
It was a laborious walk, until near the end, when the dogs got tired, and didn't pull me back, and forth, and left, and right.
Like Tom Petty said, the waiting is the hardest part...especially waiting in the doctor's office, like I just did. Bundy has a spot of sour cream on his face between his eyes that fell on him while I was eating some home made nachos. He looks silly, and sweet, at the same time. I wonder if Morisson will lick it off of him?
Mikel K Poet: And on the walk, several bags were filled with poop.
Dennis The Menace:: Why do you pick up the poop?
Mary Beth Russell: Because it would be rude to leave a pile of poop
in Downtown Atlanta! Not all of us are in the country :)
Mikel K Poet I think that it is illegal, also, Mary Beth. I'd hate to be in The Big House, and Bubba asks, "What you in for," and I'd have to say, Poop!"
By five thirty the dogs realize that there is no food going to be handed out, just yet, and they lay back down, and go to sleep, again. Henry had tried to outwit me, and get his face into the cats wet food breakfast. Fortunately, Henry understands the word, "No," and his persisent efforts were persistently thwarted.
That's it for now. Have a pleasant day. It's great to be alive.
Friday, February 11, 2011
42 YES "There will be a hanging fee for this event..." Pay to play at art shows? I don't dig on this. The historic idea of art openings, and art showings, I thought, was to sell art for the artists, and for doing this, for working for the artist, the gallery, the person selling the art would collect a percentage of the sale; but charging the artists to hang their art? This seems mercenary to me. Call it a 'one off," or call it what you like,it still looks like a rip off to me.
Of course, I have to always work on my acceptance of other peoples' ideas, and behaviors and work to keep resentment, jealousy, and anger from rearing their ugly heads in me. Guide me, Lord, in thought, word, and action; thy will be done not mine.
"And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment."--Source Anonymous
"Resentment is the "number one" offender. It destroys more alcoholics than anything else. From it stem all forms of spiritual disease, for we have been not only mentally and physically ill, we have been spiritually sick."--Anonymous Source
"The person with the most sobriety at a meeting is the one who got up earliest that morning."
--Sober Slogan
-------------------------------------
Up at 7:55 took Henry, and my dog out. Henry is barking, now; I am going to go get him, and bring him over here because that is what he wants, and it, certainly, beats listening to him bark! I am checking out publishers for my first book of poems, "Someday I Will Start The Revolution." It is a numbers game, like finding indoor pools in New Jersey that want to rent their pool out to a Swimming Lesson Business. The day is beautiful; I am blessed to be here. The dogs have gone back to sleep.
-------------------------------------
Press Release for Saturday's Ginger Murchison Poetry Reading.
Johns Creek Poetry Group February’s Featured Poet is Ginger Murchison
Saturday, February 26, 2011 10:15 AM - Noon
Northeast/Spruill Oaks Library
For directions: www.northeast-spruill-oaks-regional-library
Call 770-876-2904 for information
In 2001, Ginger Murchison joined poet Thomas Lux to found POETRY at TECH, Georgia Tech's poetry program and reading series, where she was Associate Director for seven years. A two-time Pushcart nominee and a graduate of Warren Wilson's MFA Program for Writers, she has published articles, book reviews, and interviews, and her poems have appeared in Atlanta Review, The Chattahoochee Review, Horticulture, Terminus Magazine and several anthologies, including Volumes II and III of Java Monkey Speaks: A Poetry Anthology. Her first chapbook, Out Here, was released by Jeanne Duval Editions in 2008. She is editor of The Cortland Review.
If you want to learn to express yourself through poetry, improve your writing skills, or just appreciate the craft, join us for lively presentations,workshops, and gentle critique.
New Members and Visitors are Welcome!
--Johns Creek Poetry Group
-------------------------------
Is this what you had in mind for your Friday?
Come read a poem, or sing a song.
Mikel K is hosting a Poetry / Song Happy Hour Rant 5pm Friday Feb. 18
at The Coffee and Bagel company 2000 Cheshire Bridge Rd. Suite F (Across from Bare Necessities).
From my press release:
HAPPY HOUR POETRY RANT
STARTING AT 5PM
EVERY OTHER FRIDAY AT
COFFEE & BAGEL CO.
2000 CHESHIRE BRIDGE RD. SUITE F
(across from “Bare Necessities).
HOSTED BY MIKEL K POET
COME GET IT ALL OFF YOUR CHEST,
OR WATCH OTHERS GET IT OFF THEIR
CHESTS. THE WORK WEEK IS OVER
LET THE RANTING POETRY AND SONG BEGIN.
Also experience the incredible art of D.M. Kerwin
and a song or two by friends of K.
The first Happy Hour Rant is this Fri. Feb. 18
starting at 5pm. Come eat bagels, drink coffee,
and perform, or watch performance.
-----------------------------------
It is almost eleven a.m. I slept late it felt good. It is raining outside, and the new R.E.M. single, "Discoverer," is playing through my speakers. At first listen, it doesn't sound like a bad R.E.M.song; I try, though, to never judge a song until I have listened to it quite a few times. I have a cup of coffee at my elbow. I am thankful for this, and though it is cold, and wet outside, it is warm in here, and I am thankful for that. It is a good day to be alive, but like my friend Bill Brown pointed out in a recent K stream, what day isn't a good day to be alive? I have things to do that would carry me out into the weather, but I think that I am going to cancel all outdoor plans, and just stay where it is warm and dry.
My dog, Bundy, and my cat, Kobain, share the waterbowl, happily lapping up the fresh water that I have just poured into the bowl, while my dog, Morisson, picks up the last of the dried oatmeal that I have dropped onto the floor for him, and Bundy, to consume. Bundy was into the oatmeal, for a minute, but he is more into the water. We took a long walk this morning, and I am sure that it left him thirsty.
At the beginning of our walk, we met the most beautiful light brown colored pit bull, who I will call Dylan. Dylan had no collar and was wandering a busy street by himself. I wasn't sure what to do, at first, but after a bit I turned my dogs around, and tried to get Dylan to follow us home. I figured that, at the least, Dylan could hang out on The Love Porch, until I figured out what to do with him. Dylan and Bundy got along well, and Morisson liked Dylan, also, so I wasn't scared of fights.
Dylan did not follow us the whole way home; he stopped at a house that seemed familiar to him. Bundy, Morisson, and I continued our walk. I thought about Dylan the whole time that I was walking my dogs. Had I done the right thing by just walking off, and leaving him there? How the heck could I add a third dog to my pack, if that is what had to be done? How do rescue groups work? Aren't they all full, right now, because of the lousy economy?
When I got home, I put Mo and Bundy inside, grabbed a leash, and headed back to where I had last seen Dylan. A part of me was scared that I was going to find Dylan dead in the road. I did not see him anywhere, though, and I hope that he is alright.
People, including myself, really need to keep a close eye on their dogs(mine like to wander), and all dogs should have a collar with the owner's phone number on it.
Good luck to you Dylan. It was nice meeting you.
-----------------------------------
They've posted the cut off notice on their website;
if you've got the inclination to help with The K utility bill,
the time is now to put money in The Mikel K Tip Jar. I thank
all the folks that sent food money last week.
No man is an island, and I thank you for not letting me sink.
My unemployment check was suddenly cut off. Those folks are schizophrenic:
they told me in person that I would be extended, sent me two letters
saying I'd be extended, and then just sent me one saying I was cut off.
Who is hiring a poet/memoirist?
The K Tip Jar: www.mikelk.com
----------------------------------
SPACE SEED VIDEO PRODUCED BY JAMES LEWIS
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cEENajhjET4&feature=player_embedded
Of course, I have to always work on my acceptance of other peoples' ideas, and behaviors and work to keep resentment, jealousy, and anger from rearing their ugly heads in me. Guide me, Lord, in thought, word, and action; thy will be done not mine.
"And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment."--Source Anonymous
"Resentment is the "number one" offender. It destroys more alcoholics than anything else. From it stem all forms of spiritual disease, for we have been not only mentally and physically ill, we have been spiritually sick."--Anonymous Source
"The person with the most sobriety at a meeting is the one who got up earliest that morning."
--Sober Slogan
-------------------------------------
Up at 7:55 took Henry, and my dog out. Henry is barking, now; I am going to go get him, and bring him over here because that is what he wants, and it, certainly, beats listening to him bark! I am checking out publishers for my first book of poems, "Someday I Will Start The Revolution." It is a numbers game, like finding indoor pools in New Jersey that want to rent their pool out to a Swimming Lesson Business. The day is beautiful; I am blessed to be here. The dogs have gone back to sleep.
-------------------------------------
Press Release for Saturday's Ginger Murchison Poetry Reading.
Johns Creek Poetry Group February’s Featured Poet is Ginger Murchison
Saturday, February 26, 2011 10:15 AM - Noon
Northeast/Spruill Oaks Library
For directions: www.northeast-spruill-oaks-regional-library
Call 770-876-2904 for information
In 2001, Ginger Murchison joined poet Thomas Lux to found POETRY at TECH, Georgia Tech's poetry program and reading series, where she was Associate Director for seven years. A two-time Pushcart nominee and a graduate of Warren Wilson's MFA Program for Writers, she has published articles, book reviews, and interviews, and her poems have appeared in Atlanta Review, The Chattahoochee Review, Horticulture, Terminus Magazine and several anthologies, including Volumes II and III of Java Monkey Speaks: A Poetry Anthology. Her first chapbook, Out Here, was released by Jeanne Duval Editions in 2008. She is editor of The Cortland Review.
If you want to learn to express yourself through poetry, improve your writing skills, or just appreciate the craft, join us for lively presentations,workshops, and gentle critique.
New Members and Visitors are Welcome!
--Johns Creek Poetry Group
-------------------------------
Is this what you had in mind for your Friday?
Come read a poem, or sing a song.
Mikel K is hosting a Poetry / Song Happy Hour Rant 5pm Friday Feb. 18
at The Coffee and Bagel company 2000 Cheshire Bridge Rd. Suite F (Across from Bare Necessities).
From my press release:
HAPPY HOUR POETRY RANT
STARTING AT 5PM
EVERY OTHER FRIDAY AT
COFFEE & BAGEL CO.
2000 CHESHIRE BRIDGE RD. SUITE F
(across from “Bare Necessities).
HOSTED BY MIKEL K POET
COME GET IT ALL OFF YOUR CHEST,
OR WATCH OTHERS GET IT OFF THEIR
CHESTS. THE WORK WEEK IS OVER
LET THE RANTING POETRY AND SONG BEGIN.
Also experience the incredible art of D.M. Kerwin
and a song or two by friends of K.
The first Happy Hour Rant is this Fri. Feb. 18
starting at 5pm. Come eat bagels, drink coffee,
and perform, or watch performance.
-----------------------------------
It is almost eleven a.m. I slept late it felt good. It is raining outside, and the new R.E.M. single, "Discoverer," is playing through my speakers. At first listen, it doesn't sound like a bad R.E.M.song; I try, though, to never judge a song until I have listened to it quite a few times. I have a cup of coffee at my elbow. I am thankful for this, and though it is cold, and wet outside, it is warm in here, and I am thankful for that. It is a good day to be alive, but like my friend Bill Brown pointed out in a recent K stream, what day isn't a good day to be alive? I have things to do that would carry me out into the weather, but I think that I am going to cancel all outdoor plans, and just stay where it is warm and dry.
My dog, Bundy, and my cat, Kobain, share the waterbowl, happily lapping up the fresh water that I have just poured into the bowl, while my dog, Morisson, picks up the last of the dried oatmeal that I have dropped onto the floor for him, and Bundy, to consume. Bundy was into the oatmeal, for a minute, but he is more into the water. We took a long walk this morning, and I am sure that it left him thirsty.
At the beginning of our walk, we met the most beautiful light brown colored pit bull, who I will call Dylan. Dylan had no collar and was wandering a busy street by himself. I wasn't sure what to do, at first, but after a bit I turned my dogs around, and tried to get Dylan to follow us home. I figured that, at the least, Dylan could hang out on The Love Porch, until I figured out what to do with him. Dylan and Bundy got along well, and Morisson liked Dylan, also, so I wasn't scared of fights.
Dylan did not follow us the whole way home; he stopped at a house that seemed familiar to him. Bundy, Morisson, and I continued our walk. I thought about Dylan the whole time that I was walking my dogs. Had I done the right thing by just walking off, and leaving him there? How the heck could I add a third dog to my pack, if that is what had to be done? How do rescue groups work? Aren't they all full, right now, because of the lousy economy?
When I got home, I put Mo and Bundy inside, grabbed a leash, and headed back to where I had last seen Dylan. A part of me was scared that I was going to find Dylan dead in the road. I did not see him anywhere, though, and I hope that he is alright.
People, including myself, really need to keep a close eye on their dogs(mine like to wander), and all dogs should have a collar with the owner's phone number on it.
Good luck to you Dylan. It was nice meeting you.
-----------------------------------
They've posted the cut off notice on their website;
if you've got the inclination to help with The K utility bill,
the time is now to put money in The Mikel K Tip Jar. I thank
all the folks that sent food money last week.
No man is an island, and I thank you for not letting me sink.
My unemployment check was suddenly cut off. Those folks are schizophrenic:
they told me in person that I would be extended, sent me two letters
saying I'd be extended, and then just sent me one saying I was cut off.
Who is hiring a poet/memoirist?
The K Tip Jar: www.mikelk.com
----------------------------------
SPACE SEED VIDEO PRODUCED BY JAMES LEWIS
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cEENajhjET4&feature=player_embedded
41YES "There will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and
we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of
happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first
calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort
somewhere."--Jane Austen
Ask me about the truck I just passed that had a, "Do Not Pass," sign strapped to its rear end.
I had an anxious dream last night, where in I was, once again, involved with a fellow with whom our egos, and our fists, had clashed over the years. Through our drunken experiences together, both of us came to see each other not as a friend, but as a threat to each other; I think that we both felt unsafe around the other.
The dream was very uncomfortable, and is, I believe, a reflection of why this person and I do not seek each other's company, these days. It is sad, because deep down, I really love this person, and have respect for him, despite his, and my faults, and despite all the bad times that we have endured with each other. I must consult Thich Nhat Hanh on this matter.
Sometimes, you know that you are in a good place; sometimes you know that you are in a place that is so right for you that all attempts to sway you to somewhere else are easily swept to the side. I see Yoga ads all the time; ads promising me this, ads promising me that.
"For a thousand dollars..." some ads say, "You can be a Yoga instructor." When I was younger, and interested in such things, some karate studios would advertise that you could be a black belt for a thousand bucks.
There are certain things that you just can't buy. There are things that you have to earn in this world, usually by hard work, and patience over time.
I don't think that a dating service can immediately hook me up with the millionaire beauty of my dreams. I don't think that a thousand dollars can be traded for a black belt that would help me, if a real fight went down; and I don't think that I can buy my way into being a Yoga instructor for a thousand dollars, either, and you know what: I am very glad of this because, among other things, I don't have a thousand bucks!
There are two very mean dogs, down the street, who viciously bark at us, and bare their teeth, from behind a fence, as we walk by.
Today, unfortunately for Bundy, I discovered that there is a hole in the end of the fence that keeps these dogs from attacking me, and my dogs, as we walk by. Bundy, and Henry, pulled me towards this hole, allowing one of the dogs, inside the fence, to clamp down on Bundy's nose. I pulled Bundy out of the dog's jaws, leaving his muzzle inside with the two brutes.
I am considering reporting these dogs to Animal Control. What do you think? I mean I could just forever walk on the other side of the street, but I really think that there is an issue here where someone is going to get hurt.
Morisson has his chin on my leg, as I sit at my desk and type; Henry has the jitters, and is barking at invisible things, and Bundy is nursing the wound that he got today from the neighbor's dog. Anna is resting, and I am here waiting for you. Things here at The K Hotel are pleasant tonight. I was talking about money to my friend, Lisa, this afternoon, and she said, "Why do you want money; you are already happy?"
----------------------------------
People can't do me wrong like they used to, because I have a better attitude. I used to have a big chip on my shoulder, and everyone, and everything pissed me off. I was mad at God, government, my friends, my neighbors, and completely random strangers on the street. I was miserable most of the time, with these hateful voices inside my head leading me through life.
----------------------------------
Do you remember Dylan, the young,light brown pit bull, that Bundy, and Morisson, and I, ran into a couple of weeks ago on one of our walks? Dylan was off leash, and in the middle of a busy Monroe Ave. when we came upon him, and I was only able to get him to walk behind us for a little bit before he disappeared into someone's yard. I said a prayer for Dylan, hoping that he would not get run over by a car. Well, I just saw Dylan again: he was walking along the sidewalk across the street from our home, on leash with a man. Dylan seemed to be doing most of the leading in the walk. I am glad that he is safe, and on a leash.
I want to give blood to The Red Cross, tomorrow. Why not? I walked Bolton, and Mack, two of my neighbors' dogs tonight, and was paid to do so. Maybe I ought to start a Dog Walking Business. I love Down Time, time where there is nothing that I have to do; and that is what I have now. Valentine's Day is next week. Does Valentine's day have anything to do with love?
-------------------------------------
I have scared people before
I'm attracted to false tits
but I don't like Jim Carroll's poetry.
He wrote a great book,
but I can't figure out
what he is trying to say in his poems.
He was a decent sort, though.
I met him once.
He was a little weird,
but I really shouldn't have been in
his dressing room,
handing him a cd of my poetry,
so he might have been nervous
about my presence.
--Mikel K
we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of
happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first
calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort
somewhere."--Jane Austen
Ask me about the truck I just passed that had a, "Do Not Pass," sign strapped to its rear end.
I had an anxious dream last night, where in I was, once again, involved with a fellow with whom our egos, and our fists, had clashed over the years. Through our drunken experiences together, both of us came to see each other not as a friend, but as a threat to each other; I think that we both felt unsafe around the other.
The dream was very uncomfortable, and is, I believe, a reflection of why this person and I do not seek each other's company, these days. It is sad, because deep down, I really love this person, and have respect for him, despite his, and my faults, and despite all the bad times that we have endured with each other. I must consult Thich Nhat Hanh on this matter.
Sometimes, you know that you are in a good place; sometimes you know that you are in a place that is so right for you that all attempts to sway you to somewhere else are easily swept to the side. I see Yoga ads all the time; ads promising me this, ads promising me that.
"For a thousand dollars..." some ads say, "You can be a Yoga instructor." When I was younger, and interested in such things, some karate studios would advertise that you could be a black belt for a thousand bucks.
There are certain things that you just can't buy. There are things that you have to earn in this world, usually by hard work, and patience over time.
I don't think that a dating service can immediately hook me up with the millionaire beauty of my dreams. I don't think that a thousand dollars can be traded for a black belt that would help me, if a real fight went down; and I don't think that I can buy my way into being a Yoga instructor for a thousand dollars, either, and you know what: I am very glad of this because, among other things, I don't have a thousand bucks!
There are two very mean dogs, down the street, who viciously bark at us, and bare their teeth, from behind a fence, as we walk by.
Today, unfortunately for Bundy, I discovered that there is a hole in the end of the fence that keeps these dogs from attacking me, and my dogs, as we walk by. Bundy, and Henry, pulled me towards this hole, allowing one of the dogs, inside the fence, to clamp down on Bundy's nose. I pulled Bundy out of the dog's jaws, leaving his muzzle inside with the two brutes.
I am considering reporting these dogs to Animal Control. What do you think? I mean I could just forever walk on the other side of the street, but I really think that there is an issue here where someone is going to get hurt.
Morisson has his chin on my leg, as I sit at my desk and type; Henry has the jitters, and is barking at invisible things, and Bundy is nursing the wound that he got today from the neighbor's dog. Anna is resting, and I am here waiting for you. Things here at The K Hotel are pleasant tonight. I was talking about money to my friend, Lisa, this afternoon, and she said, "Why do you want money; you are already happy?"
----------------------------------
People can't do me wrong like they used to, because I have a better attitude. I used to have a big chip on my shoulder, and everyone, and everything pissed me off. I was mad at God, government, my friends, my neighbors, and completely random strangers on the street. I was miserable most of the time, with these hateful voices inside my head leading me through life.
----------------------------------
Do you remember Dylan, the young,light brown pit bull, that Bundy, and Morisson, and I, ran into a couple of weeks ago on one of our walks? Dylan was off leash, and in the middle of a busy Monroe Ave. when we came upon him, and I was only able to get him to walk behind us for a little bit before he disappeared into someone's yard. I said a prayer for Dylan, hoping that he would not get run over by a car. Well, I just saw Dylan again: he was walking along the sidewalk across the street from our home, on leash with a man. Dylan seemed to be doing most of the leading in the walk. I am glad that he is safe, and on a leash.
I want to give blood to The Red Cross, tomorrow. Why not? I walked Bolton, and Mack, two of my neighbors' dogs tonight, and was paid to do so. Maybe I ought to start a Dog Walking Business. I love Down Time, time where there is nothing that I have to do; and that is what I have now. Valentine's Day is next week. Does Valentine's day have anything to do with love?
-------------------------------------
I have scared people before
I'm attracted to false tits
but I don't like Jim Carroll's poetry.
He wrote a great book,
but I can't figure out
what he is trying to say in his poems.
He was a decent sort, though.
I met him once.
He was a little weird,
but I really shouldn't have been in
his dressing room,
handing him a cd of my poetry,
so he might have been nervous
about my presence.
--Mikel K
Thursday, February 10, 2011
40YES
"The kids got their good looks from me, because their mother still has hers!!"--Source Unknown
"When I worked at L5P Pub I was always astounded by the vegetarians complaining about the smell of hamburgers cooking while they would be wearing leather jackets and boots and pull out their leather wallets to pay for their salads and veggy melts."--Pigpen S House
"Mikel K was as real as it gets."--Musician Clark Vreeland, commenting on their recent jam together
-------------------------------------
I was up at 8 a.m., sore from a very challenging Yoga class, last night. Over half of the asanas that were presented to us were new, and were so complicated that I could not do them. I was not frustrated though, because the asanas that I can do, today, were, also, ones that I could not do, yesterday. My coffee tastes wonderful, and I am looking forward to a beautiful day.
I had the weirdest dream, last night. It involved people who I love acting very unloving. I am thankful that sleep dreams do not come true.
My friend, Lisa, came home from the hospital, yesterday, after having had open heart surgery less than a week earlier. Lisa looks better than she did before the surgery, a nice color has returned to her face, and though she is supposed to take it easy, she says that she feels a much greater energy than she did before she had her heart valve operated on.
It looks like my dream of getting an MFA in Poetry and Memoir has been seriously put on hold; it turns out that I owe my alma mater, Georgia State University, six grand on a Perkins Loan, and I can not get a copy of my transcript sent to The Vermont College of Fine Arts.
No need to be daunted though; I am going to spend my time working on my first "official" book of poems, "Someday I will start The Revolution," and on getting it published. When one door closes, another opens.
The Good Neighbors are going to The Grammys, and I will have their great, Great Danes Henry and Anna, in my care while they are in sunny LA for the weekend. I am so excited for my friends; I bet that they get "discovered," and become The Huge Superstars that I already know them to be.
Kimberly James will be presenting the humanitarian award at The Georgia Music Awards on June 18, 2011 at the Ferst Center for the Arts in Atlanta, Ga. Among a million other things that Kimberly does, music related, she writes The Kimberly James Report, here at The Bold and Spicy News. Go Kimberly!
http://www.georgiacommerceclub.org/our-community/groups/viewbulletin/115-Can+you+help+the+Georgia+Music+Awards?groupid=120
---------------------------------------------
I'm not sure if I should eat breakfast, or have another cup of coffee. The oatmeal will slow me down some, make me not want to / be able to write, and the cup of coffee might make me jittery for a part of my day, more likely to not have full patience with these dogs that are assembled around me. Morisson is licking my left elbow, and he is mostly doing it because I am shaking Henry'r right paw with my right hand. Morisson tends to get a little needy when I show any other dog a little bit of attention.
---------------------------------------------
Bundy and Kobain share the waterbowl, happily lapping up the fresh water that I have just poured into the bowl, while Morisson picks up the last of the dried oatmela that I have dropped onto the floor for him, and Bundy to consume. Bundy was into the oatmeal, but he is more into the water. We took a long walk this morning, and I am sure that it left him thirsty.
At the beginning of our walk, we met the most beautiful light brown colored pit bull, who I will call Dylan. Dylan had no collar and was wandering a busy street by himself. I wasn't sure what to do, at first, but after a bit I turned my dogs around, and tried to get Dylan to follow us home. I figured that, at the least, he could hang out on The Love Porch, until I figured out what to do with him. Dylan and Bundy got along well, and Morisson liked Dylan, also, so I wasn't scared of fights.
Dylan did not follow us the whole way home; he stopped at a house that seemed familiar to him. Bundy, Morisson, and I continued our walk. I thought about Dylan the whole time that I was walking my dogs. Had I done the right thing by just walking off, and leaving him there? How the heck could I add a third dog to my pack, if that is what had to be done? How do rescue groups work? Aren't they all full, right now, because of the lousy economy?
When I got home, I put Mo and Bundy inside, grabbed a leash, and headed back to where I had last seen Dylan. A part of me was scared that I was going to find Dylan dead in the road. I did not see him anywhere, though, and I hope that he is alright.
People, including myself, really need to keep a close eye on their dogs(mine like to wander), and all dogs should have a collar with the owner's phone number on it.
Good luck to you Dylan. It was nice meeting you.
-------------------------------------
K Poem (From K's forthcoming book, "Someday I Will Start The Revolution")
Freedom Was A Whore
Freedom was a whore.
I abused her.
I misused her.
I confused her
with something else.
I neglected her.
I bet that she would
be there for me
for forever.
Freedom just walked
away.
--Mikel K
--------------------------------
Donate to The Daily K: www.mikelk.com
"The kids got their good looks from me, because their mother still has hers!!"--Source Unknown
"When I worked at L5P Pub I was always astounded by the vegetarians complaining about the smell of hamburgers cooking while they would be wearing leather jackets and boots and pull out their leather wallets to pay for their salads and veggy melts."--Pigpen S House
"Mikel K was as real as it gets."--Musician Clark Vreeland, commenting on their recent jam together
-------------------------------------
I was up at 8 a.m., sore from a very challenging Yoga class, last night. Over half of the asanas that were presented to us were new, and were so complicated that I could not do them. I was not frustrated though, because the asanas that I can do, today, were, also, ones that I could not do, yesterday. My coffee tastes wonderful, and I am looking forward to a beautiful day.
I had the weirdest dream, last night. It involved people who I love acting very unloving. I am thankful that sleep dreams do not come true.
My friend, Lisa, came home from the hospital, yesterday, after having had open heart surgery less than a week earlier. Lisa looks better than she did before the surgery, a nice color has returned to her face, and though she is supposed to take it easy, she says that she feels a much greater energy than she did before she had her heart valve operated on.
It looks like my dream of getting an MFA in Poetry and Memoir has been seriously put on hold; it turns out that I owe my alma mater, Georgia State University, six grand on a Perkins Loan, and I can not get a copy of my transcript sent to The Vermont College of Fine Arts.
No need to be daunted though; I am going to spend my time working on my first "official" book of poems, "Someday I will start The Revolution," and on getting it published. When one door closes, another opens.
The Good Neighbors are going to The Grammys, and I will have their great, Great Danes Henry and Anna, in my care while they are in sunny LA for the weekend. I am so excited for my friends; I bet that they get "discovered," and become The Huge Superstars that I already know them to be.
Kimberly James will be presenting the humanitarian award at The Georgia Music Awards on June 18, 2011 at the Ferst Center for the Arts in Atlanta, Ga. Among a million other things that Kimberly does, music related, she writes The Kimberly James Report, here at The Bold and Spicy News. Go Kimberly!
http://www.georgiacommerceclub.org/our-community/groups/viewbulletin/115-Can+you+help+the+Georgia+Music+Awards?groupid=120
---------------------------------------------
I'm not sure if I should eat breakfast, or have another cup of coffee. The oatmeal will slow me down some, make me not want to / be able to write, and the cup of coffee might make me jittery for a part of my day, more likely to not have full patience with these dogs that are assembled around me. Morisson is licking my left elbow, and he is mostly doing it because I am shaking Henry'r right paw with my right hand. Morisson tends to get a little needy when I show any other dog a little bit of attention.
---------------------------------------------
Bundy and Kobain share the waterbowl, happily lapping up the fresh water that I have just poured into the bowl, while Morisson picks up the last of the dried oatmela that I have dropped onto the floor for him, and Bundy to consume. Bundy was into the oatmeal, but he is more into the water. We took a long walk this morning, and I am sure that it left him thirsty.
At the beginning of our walk, we met the most beautiful light brown colored pit bull, who I will call Dylan. Dylan had no collar and was wandering a busy street by himself. I wasn't sure what to do, at first, but after a bit I turned my dogs around, and tried to get Dylan to follow us home. I figured that, at the least, he could hang out on The Love Porch, until I figured out what to do with him. Dylan and Bundy got along well, and Morisson liked Dylan, also, so I wasn't scared of fights.
Dylan did not follow us the whole way home; he stopped at a house that seemed familiar to him. Bundy, Morisson, and I continued our walk. I thought about Dylan the whole time that I was walking my dogs. Had I done the right thing by just walking off, and leaving him there? How the heck could I add a third dog to my pack, if that is what had to be done? How do rescue groups work? Aren't they all full, right now, because of the lousy economy?
When I got home, I put Mo and Bundy inside, grabbed a leash, and headed back to where I had last seen Dylan. A part of me was scared that I was going to find Dylan dead in the road. I did not see him anywhere, though, and I hope that he is alright.
People, including myself, really need to keep a close eye on their dogs(mine like to wander), and all dogs should have a collar with the owner's phone number on it.
Good luck to you Dylan. It was nice meeting you.
-------------------------------------
K Poem (From K's forthcoming book, "Someday I Will Start The Revolution")
Freedom Was A Whore
Freedom was a whore.
I abused her.
I misused her.
I confused her
with something else.
I neglected her.
I bet that she would
be there for me
for forever.
Freedom just walked
away.
--Mikel K
--------------------------------
Donate to The Daily K: www.mikelk.com
Friday, February 4, 2011
36YES Someone stole my black Yoga blanket off of The Love Porch, last night. They must have needed it worse than I did, some homeless guy, I imagine, who will never take Yoga. He also stole the remote control that turns our porch lights on and off; I wish that he hadn't stolen that. He didn't need it, but I do.
------------------------------------
Don't push send unless you are certain
Once you put it in writing
it is like a sidewalk that
has dried, a building that
has been built, a relationship
that has been cemented.
-------------------------------------
his beard grows.
his hair gets longer.
he grows old.
--------------------
Move
It's broken, and I can't fix it.
Having no desire to do so means
that it really doesn't matter if
it gets put to the side of the
street when I make my next move.
---------------------
Lazy?
Some people are better at
different things than others.
I can write a poem better
than I can clean an oven;
"Oh bullshit," said my friend,
"You're just lazy."
--------------------------
Since it is cold, and raining out,
the dogs are not whining
to join me on the porch,
where I am staying warm, and dry,
with a notebook, and a pen.
--------------------------
One last cold drop
There are no nice men;
they are all evil pigs.
------------------------------------
Don't push send unless you are certain
Once you put it in writing
it is like a sidewalk that
has dried, a building that
has been built, a relationship
that has been cemented.
-------------------------------------
his beard grows.
his hair gets longer.
he grows old.
--------------------
Move
It's broken, and I can't fix it.
Having no desire to do so means
that it really doesn't matter if
it gets put to the side of the
street when I make my next move.
---------------------
Lazy?
Some people are better at
different things than others.
I can write a poem better
than I can clean an oven;
"Oh bullshit," said my friend,
"You're just lazy."
--------------------------
Since it is cold, and raining out,
the dogs are not whining
to join me on the porch,
where I am staying warm, and dry,
with a notebook, and a pen.
--------------------------
One last cold drop
There are no nice men;
they are all evil pigs.
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