http://search.deviantart.com/?q=by:godsawait&section=today deviantART RSS for by:godsawait en-us Copyright 2009, deviantART.com Tue, 15 Dec 2009 11:59:12 PST deviantART.com http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss http://s.deviantart.com/minish/widgets/apple-touch-icon-precomposed.png http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/20943258/ http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/20943258/ Sat, 11 Oct 2008 20:14:24 PDT Once I had a little game
I liked to crawl back into my brain
I think you know the game I mean
I mean the game called 'go insane'
Now you should try this little game
Just close your eyes forget your name
Forget the world forget the people
And we'll erect a different steeple
This little game is fun to do
Just close your eyes no way to lose
And I'm right there I'm going too
Release control we're breaking thru
Way back deep into the brain
Back where there's never any pain ...

Doors -- Celebration of the Lizard ]]> *godsawait http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/20763558/ http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/20763558/ Tue, 30 Sep 2008 16:49:13 PDT
On my way back out I peeked out of a window to see if anything had happened with my pigeon guest. Well, it was much worse off than when I left. It was being eaten by a hawk. A huge hawk. Alive. On my barbeque. In my backyard. In the middle of the city. First thought: ICK. Second thought: this is kind of cool. Yes, I watched the hawk eat the pigeon (there was no chance of CPR or anything else to save its life). Yes, it was fascinating. Yes, I feel a little bit bad but there wasn’t really anything I could do to save the pigeon.

End result(s): (1) the pigeon carcass went into the dumpster, carried by my dishwashing glove clad hands (dish-washing gloves are more easily washed than oven mitts); (2) the hawk had a great lunch; and, (3) I continue to wonder where the hawk went after eating and if I’ll see it again. It was, as I already mentioned, huge and it seems improbable that it would live in the city. Certainly stranger things have happened. For example, a puppy or small child could have landed on my barbeque. I admit it; I'm a bad person because I would value those lives more than a pigeon's and, in either of those situations, I would have fought the hawk. With my oven mitts.

But that would be a much different story.

]]> *godsawait http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/20658433/ http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/20658433/ Wed, 24 Sep 2008 19:24:15 PDT Fuck you asshole. If I wanted to be married I’d stay married. I’m here for meds, not for advice.

Oh really?

Yes, so if you’re holding out for prince charming, you may want to reconsider.
You fucking fuck. Get your beady little eyes off me and give me my pills.

I know there’s no such thing as prince charming, but thank you for the advice.

Just thought I should let you know.
Yeah, I’m sure you were watching out for me. Just write the scrips and go home to your 5th trophy wife.

Is that all then?

I guess so. Here you go.

Thanks. Fucker. God damn it. Why can’t I get the lid off this bottle?

]]> *godsawait http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/20620262/ http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/20620262/ Mon, 22 Sep 2008 13:50:42 PDT and wish him a happy birthday! He's crossing over to the other side (30!) so can use lots of well wishes.


]]> *godsawait http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/20144131/ http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/20144131/ Mon, 25 Aug 2008 07:59:46 PDT
Make a milkshake instead.

Fresh strawberries and vanilla ice cream. ]]> *godsawait http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/19972635/ http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/19972635/ Fri, 15 Aug 2008 15:03:22 PDT
The longer it stays, the easier it is for me to breathe.

It washes my soul clean, just as it clears the stagnant air from this city.

With every drop, my mind calms, my blood flows smoother, and my soul becomes more free.

Riders on the storm ... let it rain.

]]> *godsawait http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/19679089/ http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/19679089/ Wed, 30 Jul 2008 11:22:00 PDT “You’ve got good taste, Bolan.”

I grab my drink and start back to my table.

“Nice ass.” He wasn’t even quiet about it.

My gait slows slightly but I keep moving.

Eating my lunch, I glance occasionally at the man who felt it necessary to comment on my anatomy in the middle of the lunch rush at a popular restaurant.

Not so long ago I would have stopped at his table, explaining to him and his two companions how demeaning it is to reduce women to body parts, how men like him only reinforce stereotypes which we fight so hard to eradicate, etcetera, etcetera.

But I don’t do that anymore. My impromptu rants never changed anyone’s ideas and were more amusing to them than anything else, I imagine.

No, today I walk towards the door, past the table of three men in suits and wink, subtly, at the one who’d chosen to voice his appreciation of my butt.

It caught him completely off guard, and I left smiling, thinking to myself “take that, you not-so-nice Ass.”

......

Satisfaction. ]]> *godsawait http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/19562370/ http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/19562370/ Wed, 23 Jul 2008 20:29:51 PDT
He’d followed her to the table, literally dragging his feet. Here is the gist of their conversation:

He: Why are we here again? What exactly did we need to talk about?
She: You keep saying you’re confused, but you won’t say what you’re confused about.
He: You know – what I said already.
She: But that didn’t make any sense.
He: Yes it did.
She: So all you wanted to do was sleep with me; you didn’t want to go out with me?
He: I don’t know.
She: That can’t be true. Everyone was saying you liked me.
He: I liked what I saw.
She: But I’ll miss our conversations.
He: What conversations?

It went on like that for a few minutes, then to this:

She: Do you think we’ll ever sleep together again?
He: Sure, if we’re both drunk.
She: You know you’ll still think about me.
He: No I won’t. Not unless you’re standing in front of me.
She: You did before.
He: No I didn’t.
She: You’ll never forget about me.
He: Yes I will.
She: No you won’t. I promise you, you’ll keep thinking about me and how much you want to get with me again.
He: No I won’t. (Standing, stepping away and opening up his phone)
She: (Hurrying to her feet) Yes you will. You know you won’t forget about me.
He: Yes I will.
She: (Grabbing his arm) No you won’t.
He: (Putting the phone to his ear) “Hi Piper, just a sec, ok?” (Turning to the woman he was with) “I just did.”

......
Man, I felt bad for BOTH of them. ]]> *godsawait http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/18919192/ http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/18919192/ Thu, 19 Jun 2008 16:07:46 PDT
I'm driving my car at speeds beyond comprehension, directly into quicksand.

I'm flowing amongst the constellations, to be blindsided by a shooting star.

My savior has become my tormentor; my lover my nemesis.

Yellow pills are candy to dull the senses;
peach pills are the sustenance to keep the air flowing.

I'm running as fast as I can to slam into a brick wall.

..... My writing lately, shooting out like a geyser and ending abruptly in a trickle. ... So it goes. ]]> *godsawait http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/18383578/ http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/18383578/ Sun, 18 May 2008 13:24:43 PDT Without knowing who or where you are,
whether we’ve met or if you’ve been with me my whole life.

You invaded my subconscious slowly,
creeping in from the edges like an ink spill
and obscuring any dream fragments remaining in my mind.

You came all over me, inside and out,
your thoughts and convictions, your past and our future.
I trembled and engulfed you,
wanting all of you inside of me so we would never be apart.

I woke confused, thinking the pillow was covered by sweat and semen;
in reality it was soaked with my tears.
My body continued to shake and
my mind and hands grasped out in the dark for your comfort.

But I was alone.

The man next to me slept soundly within the security of his denial,
where he gives me everything he thinks I want except my freedom.
I rolled over and settled in again, the stale air punctuated by my quiet sobs.

... ]]> *godsawait http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/18087294/ http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/18087294/ Tue, 29 Apr 2008 14:13:34 PDT
"your life is your life.
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is light somewhere.
it may not be much light but it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them, take them.
you can’t beat death but you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you do it, the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight in you."

here's to more light .... ]]> *godsawait http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/17886605/ http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/17886605/ Wed, 16 Apr 2008 19:16:35 PDT She came ..
blood in the streets, it’s up to my knee..."

I pull into the parking garage and turn up the volume.
Circling, circling, tires screech as I pull into a spot.

"She came and then she drove away, sunlight in her hair..."

The air is smoldering and stuffy in here,
Much like it will be when I enter the building.
It enters my lungs and pollutes my mind.

I turn the volume up again and cut the engine.

"She came
Blood in the streets runs a river of sadness
She came
Blood in the streets it’s up to my thigh.
She came..."

My head drops forward onto my hands clasped across the steering wheel,
Thoughts briefly fly to colleagues gathering upstairs
to start the drone of afternoon meetings.

"Indians scattered on dawn’s highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child’s fragile eggshell mind..."

Instruments whirl around me in the front seat, darting in and out of my brain.
Neon green keyboards, bright blue guitars and Jim's face dance with the
rainbows of notes and treble clefs whirling behind my closed eyelids.

"Blood in the streets in the town of New Haven,
Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of Venice
Blood in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of fantastic LA..."

I still can’t go in.
I lean back and give in completely to the music,
letting it push aside the worry and stress housed in my mind.
Momentary peace, nothingness, the pounding recedes ...
Peace from Peace Frog.

"Blood streams her brain as they chop off her fingers
Blood will be born in the birth of a nation
Blood is the rose of mysterious union

There’s blood in the street, it’s up to my ankles
Blood in the streets, it’s up to my knee
Blood in the streets in the town of Chicago
Blood on the rise, it’s following me."

The colored notes drop from the air as the music fades,
falling in broken pieces on the dashboard and seat all around me.
My calm shatters with them.
I turn off the radio, steel myself and open the car door.

A high heel hits the asphalt;
a disconnected leg lengthens to bear the weight of a female body.
Her brain shuts down and follows,
hiding behind the shelter of theatric green eyes and
dreading the never-ending game.

******************************

I wrote this a while ago, but it came back to mind while listening to the Doors tonight and fit my day today. ]]> *godsawait http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/17681611/ http://godsawait.deviantart.com/journal/17681611/ Fri, 04 Apr 2008 11:10:48 PDT
The tempest screams, screams in watercolor,
and the golden curls of the pacifist bob gently,
in exaggerated movements but slower than normal

All of it is muted.

My responses are similar, I’m sure, but less pointed, less poignant,
and sometimes they don’t even leave my raw throat.

It’s the drug, I know, and I hate it and want more at the same time.

My eyelids are heavy but the pounding has slowed and the edge is gone …. drifted into watercolor screams, which could last all night, floating softly around my mind.

]]> *godsawait