the ugliness - pt. 1

[surfermike]

Hey G/A

meant no dissrespect. Actually a counsellor
will ask that question when he/she is stumpted.
For instance the client will say..
"Shit man, I'm screwed, I want to die and today is
the day, and I just hanged my cat Angel, and I can't
stop sticking my fingers in the outlets and I even
watched a whole episode of 'Ricki Lake,' and, and
please help me Mike."

To which I am now lost, but asking the magical question..

"Do you love your mother?"

So it goes, he/she talks I nod for the clinical hour and
we depart the office both feeling the better.

You're o.k. kid. if you feel ugly inside .. express it, but
please don't own it as one day you will feel electric, free
and oh so happy with a big freeakin grin..
_________________
Honda That's

[hester_prynne]

Sure, heck,
I love my mother.
Fell through
her holes,
landed in
my own.

Streaks of her,
stuck on the walls.
Scrubbing her off,
took hot tubs,
half full of theraputic
baking soda,
before she softened,
and glided out
of my system.

I live alone now,
i'm all growed up.
My ugliness
is all mine.

Do you love
your mother?

[surfermike]

Oh no.. someone asked me that question..

my father was chocolate
my mother was vanellia
my sister is garlic

flavours tell a thousand tales
_________________
Honda CMX250C

[Glorious Amok]

mike,

not an ounce of disrespect read. you told me once that you and i were woven of the same fabric, and i still believe that is true to this very day, brother. happy to see you stop in, any time, friend, i'll have a conversation with you, anytime.

and hester? well you and me may as well be sisters, darlin'. may as well be. sisters of one holy mother. and she can be one holy mutha sometimes, can't she be, sister?

[sooZen]

stuck to my mind
burned on my eyeballs
your words, like wallpaper
the seared memories
regrets...regretful

I wish you well
I wish you peace
I wish I could visit
and take a walk with you
hug you...tell you I care

I admire your creativity
your way with words
how you can affect me
and make it real

I am sad for you
tears for your sadness
light for your darkness

I am here, not close
but nearby...a stranger
who has grown to love you,
your paper voice, your shy smile,
I think you are beautiful...

When we see the uglyness inside, the pain, the yearnings...all we need to do is reach out, someone will arrive (like Mighty Mouse) to save the day (or a suferMike).

Despite the harsh space you are in, your words are amazing...I cannot write like that, I admire the few that can. Writing is cathartic for me, creating is cathartic for me. When I sit around too much and start 'thinking'...trouble! I have a party, a pity party (I have so much to be sorry for, unhappy about if I want) so keeping the mind occupied, busy with output is good medicine and doesn't involve salves or chemicals. This outflow from you is similar, like a ladder out of the pit, climb your words to the level ground.

Love,
SooZen

[stilltrucking]

The creepiest thoughts I ever had was murder. Astoria Oregon, I actually thought about how I would do it. I didn't because it just wasn't worth jail, or running. I wish I could say I it was because of some moral imperative. How many times in my life I have wanted to kill someone. But the day I grabbed my mother by the throat was an eye opener for me. Thank god we both lived long enough to become friends. Her favorite joke was about the Jewish boy who killed his mother. He cut her heart out and ran down the street with it. He tripped and fell. And his mother's heart said, "did you hurt yourself son?"

summer seems to bring
the defects
out of hibernation

in spiralling loops of fury
and among beats that just repeat
i'm caught in a black vinyl groove
of loneliness and defeat

self loathing is so beautiful when you write about it

I admire your creativity
your way with words
how you can affect me
and make it real

But I am not sad for you.
If I was it would be sad for me
those feelings are real for me too
but they come and go

if they did not I would change something in my life, or find a friend like surfermike that I could talk to.
November 22, 1963, the day I almost commited suicide by matricide I ran away from home at the tender age of 22. I think finding a new life away from everyone that knew me did me more good then anything else.

I keep waiting for the first post card when you land in Bohemia

happy landings

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I should probably delete this nonesense.
I watched Crime and Punishment the other night. Maybe that is the cause of all these macabre thoughts.





bottom line it was just a poem,
I am no judge but I though it was pretty fucking excellent

thank you

surfer did you ever see blade runner?
"Tell me about your mother?"
I am pretty drunk right now. One of these days I will learn how to type slurred words.

[Glorious Amok]

i'm pretty on the outside
but ugly on the inside
totally unknowable
totally unloveable
totally unfuckable
too many bad impulses
too much chaos for any human to navigate
and safely return.

[sooZen]

self- created
selfufilling

Maya Angelo said to trust people when they tell you who they are.
This is who I am:

sympathetic
complex, yet simple minded
not so beautiful on the outside but more so on the inside
creative
loving
bitchy
so detail oriented that I drive myself crazy
worry wart
problem solver
careful but with a large degree of risk taking
if I counted well (I have a numbers phobia), I have more faults than the San Andreas

Yet...I am a work in progress, living a microscopic inner life. Looking for answers, solutions to make a better me. If I hate myself today, I must love myself forever and remind myself to be kind, to forgive me for all the things I see wrong for perfection is acceptance of what is...

Not always sucessful, I at least try.

What am I getting at (You are probably wondering?) This outpouring from you is what we all think...for we can and do kick ourselves when we are down. I have been down more than up lately and sometimes it seems more of an effort than the energy I have to get back up again. I am not alone...you are there...

If you tell me you are ugly
that life is ugly
ugly is ugly
I will believe you

SooZen

[Trevor]

Hiya,

A lot of it is hit and miss with me, but with all the poems having some good bits in em...one thing I really dug was:

"i'm the only one in the room again
painting the walls with my gloom again
and nobody thinks that my taste in colours
is very fucking funny."

That's a brilliant section...saying so much in such a little space and the word choice is spot on.

Thanks for sharing this work.

Trev

[Zlatko Waterman]

One of the weirdest things, SooZen, and I think all artists ( probably you, too) experience this ( well, maybe not Chesley Bonestell):


http://www.bonestell.org/spaceart.html


But it consists of the following:


I work in a burst ( frenzy) of energy, and produce several good drawings, some of them among my best.

I then take on a very commonplace ( for me) task( e.g. a watercolor of some garden irises), one I have solved for years before, and it falls on its face-- it's a muddle, a failure, or near-failure.

Perhaps this weirdness issues from my high expectations, having just completed a successful series.

At any rate, I understand the feelings you describe.

My only solution is to return to pencil and paper, my oldest and most reliable friend.

My wife ( after twenty years of marriage), is familiar with my solution for the doldrums, too.


"What you should be doing right now is pencil drawings . . ." she often says mildly, after a spell of my tearing up drawings in a mood resembling The Incredible Hulk" on a bad hair day.



--Z

(N.)

[stilltrucking]

if I told you I was female on the outside
male on the inside
I was beatiful outside
Ugly inside
so tempting to draw conclusions

internal time consciousness
out of synch with myself

[jimboloco]

Her favorite joke was about the Jewish boy who killed his mother. He cut her heart out and ran down the street with it. He tripped and fell. And his mother's heart said, "did you hurt yourself son?"

i'm pretty on the outside
but ugly on the inside
totally unknowable
totally unloveable
totally unfuckable
too many bad impulses
too much chaos for any human to navigate
and safely return.

(i'm singing.... )

unfuckable, that's what you are,
so unknowable, though near or far
like a song of bad impulses that clings to me
how the thought of your chaos does things to me
never before has someone been more

onloveable in every way
and forever more that's how you'll stay
that's why, amokling, it's amuckable,
that someone so unfuckable
thinks that i am unfuckable too!

[Glorious Amok]

amuckable, and amokling... my two new most favourite words.

thank you.

[Doreen Peri]

I had a friend in high school and beyond who was a musican and songwriter.

He wrote this song about being in love with a girl who had done him wrong. The lyrics proceeded to him slicing her into little bits with a knife at the end.

The final chorus was:

"She was pretty on the outside
Ugly on the inside
Ugly through and through and through.
Pretty on the outside,
Ugly on the outside,
But not as ugly as you!"

LOL!... funny guy... a bit odd, sure, but odd cracks me up.

Everything is pretty if you perceive it that way.
And visa versa.

[sooZen]

"What you should be doing right now is pencil drawings . . ." she often says mildly, after a spell of my tearing up drawings in a mood resembling The Incredible Hulk" on a bad hair day.(N.)

Hah! that made me smile...I could picture the scenario. Thanks Zlatko, you have been a source of soothing words for me lately and your understanding of some of my frustrations with my art and some situations surrounding it and me. You seem to have a knack of reading between the lines...nice knack to have and very appreciated.

GA...I am having a bad hair day too often lately and need a new do. Hah! I relate all too well to the emotion in your writings and find it difficult to remain detached.


SooZen