Kimbo Does Modern Dance

This post needs to be prefaced with I have been sick all week, which means my sleeping patterns are jacked, I am not getting full R.E.M. sleep because I keep being woken up by my inability to breathe, and this weekend I am watching my roommates dogs which further complicates the sleeping arrangements, as they prefer to sleep wherever the humans are, ergo my bed...but wait that is not comfortable, let me jump down and chill on the floor, no wait maybe if I go back up he'll forget I was just up there and pet me, wait was that a sound...is my real master home, let me sniff under this door, loudly, for about 15 minutes to see if I can smell Jeff. This cyclical movement continued for a good 2 hours, until finally both dogs were in bed with me, Jazz at my feet and Blu laying like we were an item.

Around 3:27 my eyes cracked open, not sure if it was the inability to breathe or the need to release the 8 glasses of water a day, but I had these vivid images sitting on my occipital lobe, well I assume that is where they were, possibly in transition from the suprachiasmatic nucleus, who knows. The point is I was dreaming. I have been blessed with rock like sleeping patterns (and a fair amount of sleep deprivation), so I rarely remember my dreams. However, this was right there and lucid. The room was this poorly lit dance studio I remember from Lindenwood, the dancers were three faceless females and Kimbo Slice, yeah like UFC fighter, backyard brawler, Kimbo. They were working on a piece that was choreographed to poem I was reading. I kept finishing the poem before the movement was done, so I was trying to explain to Kimbo that he was like the kick drum, and I should be following him, not him trying to follow me. That's about the moment when consciousness kicked in.

Alright for this weeks poetry the assignment came from another The Absinthe Road post. We were to create something based on a song or instrument or something musical that inspires us, so I took a line from my favorite song, 3am by Edwin McCain and I went with it.

I'm awake and my heart is still dreaming

And my heart
My heart dreams two dreams
One
Great id inspired fantasy
Packed amphitheater
Sweat stings eyes
Blurs vision
Blue wash on stage
As floods hit sea of bodies
Bonded by movement and moment
Final chord strummed
And picks passed out to faint declarations of love
Then shuffled off to buses with waiting engines
For a night of road hum and restless sleep
Eyes opened to Groundhog Day
Another venue
Another adoring audience
Another moment of Self-Actualization
Two
You
You who wakes me with Eskimo kisses and sticky fingers
Whose “Daddy” I could distinguish in a ocean of voices
You who looks like your mother but has my intense eyes
You who sings before conversational skills have been achieved
And dances with complete freedom at the slightest sound of music
Crawls into my chair wanting nothing more than to be beside me
Begs for stories before bed
Fighting sleep to hear me do the Queen’s voice
Your giggles rock you to sleep
Tucked in I return to my big boy bed
Kiss your mother sweetly
Seek peace behind God given veils
Eyes open to Groundhog Day
Eskimo kisses
Sticky Fingers
“Daddy it’s time to play”

Hope everyone had a great week...

Balance...

Realistically I would write everyday if I had the time and inspiration, but I don't so I don't. And even though I am always incredibly busy, it is really the inspiration that is holding me back. As a young poet, my mind was clear and starving. Now a thought has to complete an obstacle course of commitments, responsibilities, and what if's before it can even become a seed. Luckily for me, and you, since you are reading this, I have The Absinthe Road. As long as Karen is providing sparks, I should be able to ignite and produce some poetry for you. I just need that push, that word that will get my mind moving in a non-life direction. That being said, if anyone reading this would like me to write on a specific subject or based on a word or phrase or wants to "inspire" me, please leave comment suggestions. I am happy to attempt. I am not saying these pushed poems will always be the best, but at least they are something. Which brings me to:

Balance

He
swings from ape branches
thick hands
expanded chest
grunts orders
booming voice
cold eyes
provides fear and security

hE
floats through forest
light feet
haloed head
sings salutations
hushed phrases
soft smiles
brings comfort and closeness

HE
offers order to chaos
hands and chest
denote dominance
while sweet word and smile
signify seduction
masculine
feminine

This concept of balance is something very meaningful to me because I feel like it is how I live me life, choir boy with football pads. It seems that I have always lived in multiple worlds, both skater and jock, partier and nerd, but even more intensely than the cliques we filter through to touch various portions of our soul, as a man in 2010 life is pure confusion.

There is a Grimm fairytale called Iron Hans which Robert Bly later used as inspiration for Iron John: A Book About Men. Essentially, everyday we grow farther away from our nature. It is as if we are in a continual state of cognitive dissonance because our real and ideal are always in conflict, always using the silver tongue of seduction to submit when our animal brains are kicking in a sympathetic nervous systems which is telling us to fight. We swallow rage for a soft tongue and smile.

So, you are going to become sick of seeing this, but until the end of the Pledge or we hit our goal, it is going to be on every post. It is just that important to my band, So Much Closer. Remember, once we hit our goal 25% of everything we raise goes to the American Cancer Society.



Also, for those that do not know, our drummer, Patrick Enright, has offered to Karaoke any song and do any dance for people that pledge. We video them and put them on YouTube for the world to see. Here is PE doing "Never Gonna Give You Up."

Unhook the Stars

Life is chaos.

I think that pretty much sums up the last couple of months for me and provides an explanation of why I have neglected you. As you know my band, So Much Closer, went down to Denton, TX to do some recording and play a few shows. We were able to capture 9 tunes at the Echo Lab and are now in post production: final mixes, mastering, CD art, researching duplication, etc. Just when I thought things would settle down a bit from all the focus on making the trip happen, things just got busier.

Still, on today, off all days, I thought it was important to write. Those that know me know I was raised by my mom, and as a result I am, well, a momma's boy. I do not see this as a negative. I embrace it, that sensitive heart on sleeve mentality is what made me who I am, is responsible for the eyes that see the world in a way that allows me to paint pictures in words. Although the skill set may have come from my father who is a poet, the eyes are all my mother's. Mom, if you are reading, sincerely, thank you for everything, and Happy Mother's Day.

You know, I have been very fortunate to surround myself with extremely inspiring people. I know writers, photographers, dancers, musicians, painters, heck one of my newest friends even makes quilts. I think creativity attracts creativity. Well, one of my old friends, high-school friends, Karen, recently started a new blog called The Absinthe Road. This blog is dedicated to forcing creation, and for your poem today, I took the bait. What is interesting about this method of writing, forced subject writing, is it often reveals things that I am not conscious of. Although I call myself a momma's boy and try to embrace sensitivity, the reality is he had his ass kicked by life and love and divorce and unfulfilled desires and lack of vindication and.... It is just so incredibly hard to chase a dream your entire life and never catch it. Inevitably, over the years, I have hardened.

Unhook the Stars

I remember when I lived heart on edge
Exposed
Like infant taking bath for first time
Redfaced
As mothers and mother’s mothers smiled
Whispered words of comfort to calm frightened cries

Now heart is locked away
Deep beneath battle scars from wars lost
The stars it once danced with at midnight
Trapped and tangled
Heavy heart’s gravitational pull
Creating black hole of sadness and solitude

I want to unhook the stars
Release them to join midnight moon
Sparkling down upon bare chest in movement
No longer afraid
No longer red faced and crying
Once again alive

Now, I don't want you to think I am depressed or anything, I am not. I didn't even realize I was feeling these things until I put pen to paper. It is therapy. But I do miss him, the momma's boy.

Before I get out of here, I would be remiss if I did not mention our Pledge Music efforts. For those that do not know making a CD is really expensive. Having done 3 solo, 2 with EKe, and 1 with Whiskey Daydream, I can tell you every time it causes debt. I moved into my house in 2001, and I have wanted to replace the carpet every year I have lived here, and every year I push it back because I am paying off a CD. This time we are trying to be smart about it. Rather than pawn guitars, sell amps, and load up the credit card, we are offering all of our supporters an opportunity to help us. There are several levels you can donate at from $10, which gets you access to all the exclusive content we are posting on the Pledge site (videos, rough mixes of songs, etc.) and a digital download of the CD when it is done, to $600 which gets access to exclusive content, a signed copy of the CD when it is done AND a fully electric house concert anywhere in the continental US. Yes, we will actually drive to your house and put on a show for you and as many people as you want to invite...wedding, graduation party, reception of some sort...whatever the event, we'll play it for $600. We actually have a song that we have left untitled, and we will let you name it for $300. Seriously, there are a lot of opportunities to fit every budget. Please take a moment to check out our pledge site.



That is all I have for now. I sincerely hope all the Mother's are feeling appreciated and loved because you are!