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Sunday, January 29, 2012

Today



Fishing for hearts


I went to the bank today

Red Spot II, Wallisy Kandinsky
To sit and ponder

On how to say
I have need
I am fishing for hearts today
I would rather
Talk of the one I caught
Than
The one that got away
I’m fishing for hearts today

Chris Mcqueeney 1/29/12 8:55 AM

The inspiration for this poem was brought to us courticy of Tess Kincaid of Willow mannor via
The Mag

Also this has been linked to Jingle poetry click here

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Bound


Bound

Screaming she throws
Her life away
Over the heads of others
The meaning of the screams
Fly
Screaming she throws
Her soul away
Under the shodden feet
Of the friended masses
Below
Screaming she throws
Her mind away
To be swallowed up
By the gnashing toothed
Grin
Screaming she throws
Her self away
Through bottled anger
And frayed rage
Bound

Chris McQueeney 1/26/12 9:52 PM


This poem has been submitted to Poetry Palace  click here

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Less dire

Magpie tales below poem and personal blerb, but please read those as well...
Le silence   by
Lucen Levy-Dhurmer




                                          Less dire



                                    Laugh if you can,
                                
                                     Cry if you must,
                               
                                But love with abandon!


                           
                             Wander  1/21/12 8:58 PM





After my last post I wanted to write something less dire, so here it is...


On the other hand, you have different fingers..... was what the fortune on a good friend's fridge said. Sometimes life offers up little things to show that not all is wreck and rune. I don't want all  my readers to think that my life has been a series of tragic events strung together with loss and sprinkled with hurt. I have seen beauty, true beauty. I have read words that touched me to the bottom of by soul. I have been shown compassion freely given. I have been loved, and loved in return. And from the wreckage of life, the soul twisted depths of despair, I have seen humanity return to the eyes of the fallen.



Magpie tales volume 101



O God how the f***k did I end up here?

From the makers of the “Body Broom”tm comes the next time savings breakthrough, “Body Brilliance”tm.

That was the start of it, well kinda. Obviously shit went sideways before that or she wouldn’t have been up at three o-clock in the morning; let alone actually contemplate buying that crap!
Started simply enough, innocent at least that is what she will tell herself after…so as to find something to make it have some sort of sane explination.
A.P.  release,
How’s this for product advertising…Philly native found nude in night club lobby. Upon opening the club two employees found Mary Alistair naked as the day she was born, clothed only in a recently perchased “Body Brilliance”tm. When asked what she was doing the woman mumbled repeatedly “it will make my life simplified, and take care of all those oversized messes”. Charges have been put on hold pending a psych evaluation………………….

Chris McQueeney 1/22/12 11:12 AM



Thank you again Tess for the cool prompt...The Mag 101



Thursday, January 19, 2012

It's only

Its only

The day started out bad
Things went downhill
From there
One saving grace
Sanity held together by a sliver
The internal mantra
It’s only the drugs
I told myself
Freak on a leash playing
In the background
It’s only the drugs
As if it was true
And had some sort of power
It’s only the drugs

I’m not sure what year it was that this happened, but happen it did.
Walking out of the local Albertsons a couple months ago a man asked me for thirty three cents. His cloths were filthy and stank slightly. His hair was only hand combed, and also dirty. My first reaction was a slight sense of revulsion; I say slight and I mean that. I’ll explain, and with a hope this never has to happen to me again, at several points in time in my life I have been homeless. So when I say I was slightly revolted it was because of where I have been; not because the state he was in. To be asking for that specific amount of money meant only one thing.  He needed a drink.
I was about to tell him that there was a better way to live when I recognized him. We used to party together. Now don’t get me wrong he wasn’t a close friend of mine, more like a friend of a friend. But I think I drank and did drugs with him a couple of dozen times. I remember thinking that dude can put the drink and drugs away just like me. And like me he would burn hot then disappear for a while…normal behavior for people like us (the kind of person I used to be).
I have to tell you something about him, and this was the only reason I gave him the thirty three cents, also the reason I didn’t try to talk to him. He wouldn’t remember me, probably barely remembered his own name. About fourteen years ago some extremely strong drugs hit the streets, first meth, and then LSD. Being in the same circles we had access to the same supplier. Almost like mirrors we both got spun out, for about a month, and then the LSD showed up.
This shit was strong, the body high was amazing, and the visuals were fucking unbelievable. After about a week solid of tripping I was still in pretty good shape. Ok, I have to say that I thought I was doing pretty well; I weighed about one hundred and fifty pounds, and at six foot four I looked like the walking dead. So thinking I was the fucking LSD master with a mind like a steel trap I decided to take about four times what I had been taking, and to wait about a half hour and take as much again. That is the problem with drug addicts, insane shit makes perfect sense.
So I drop all of this acid and proceed about my day, I have very little memory of the day except for the culmination. Sitting in a Lazy boy chair and I was talking with a couple of friends, Will and Ben. Will was tweaking (on a large amount of meth) and Ben was tripping balls on shrooms. My memory kicks in and we were in the middle of a conversation about the different levels of consciousness brought about by different kinds of drugs. It is amazing looking back how deep some of the conversations on drugs are capable of being. Now I could go into the spiritual or metaphysical aspects of this but I won’t. One minute I am hip deep in intellect and the next I wasn’t even able to form a coherent thought! I could see the energy that was flowing between everything, in colorful particle streams…and I could feel the colors!
Even trying as hard as I can I can’t remember much more about that night, or much over the next three weeks. One thing I do remember was sitting on my front step and watching the grass grow and the street lamps drip light. This may sound strange but I think that the only thing that brought me back from the brink of permanent insanity was telling my-self almost constantly that IT’S ONLY THE DRUGS! Will came over every day to check on me. “Dude, are you still tripping man” he would ask, and I would say yes “but it’s only the drugs”. Than he would ask if I had taken anything else and I would say no, and we would smoke some pot and he would leave. He wanted to know if I was still taking more LSD. I wasn’t it just wouldn’t wear off!!
Of course eventually it wore off or I would be a drooling idiot with filthy hair, dirty cloths, sitting outside of the local Albertsons begging for thirty three cents for just one more beer. That would be all I was capable of.
Yeah I knew that man, I gave him the money, and I didn’t try to talk to him. I was lucky enough to come back, he wasn’t. Fourteen years later and he is still out there on the edge of reality where you can see the powers of the universe flow…a place where the human mind is too small to handle safely.

Chris McQueeney 1/18/12 12:39 PM

http://www.threewordwednesday.com/ this link takes you to a site that prompts three words a week to be used in a poem, short story, or flash fiction. On that site you will find links to other authors participating in 3ww.


Also the story is being submitted to Blue bell books short story slam Again if you want to support more authors please visit and read!

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Living under water

 sculpture: Jason deCaires Taylor

They say that life is a journey
You have to experience to understand
I can see that being the case

They say the joy in life
Is in the living of it
That sounds ok to me

They say your life’s path
Can have meaning to others
I sure hope so

What they didn’t tell me
Is that no one above the surface
Can hear you scream


Chris McQueeney  1/15/2012 11:39PM

This is in response to the 100th prompt from Tess at magpie tales click here

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

You wish me



You wish me
To wax poetic this soon
After waking?

Thinking of you
Sinking into me
Holding you…

Waking next to you is like opening my eyes
Finding the storm has finally broken
And the sun has shown through

You wish me
To wax poetic this soon
After waking?

How so
You leave me
Without words…

Chris McQueeney 1/10/12   2:33PM

Posted for Thursday Poet’s Rally 1/12-/18/12 on Promising Poet’s Parking Lot

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Ode to Yul

Mag 99

Ode to Yul Brynner


One day Yul had a staring contest
With himself
It took passerby’s a week
To realize what was happening
To this day
Yul is still in a Mexican standoff
With himself

Chris McQueeney 1/8/12 10:38AM


Here is the link back to Magpie tales...Mag 99

Friday, January 6, 2012

Short short for 55 word Friday



This asshole in Jackson



big city cowboy by  ATMAN  VICTOR

(big city cowboy by  ATMAN  VICTOR)



I’m so fucking tired!
This asshole in Jackson stole my horse; bute named Burt, not the horse, the asshole! Got the drop on me, on account of me being in the jug. Won’t happen again! For one thing, I got my piece skinned, back to the wall. For another, I aint got no fucking horse!

by Chris McQueeney
Hello, bluebell books short story slam officials, I agree to have my work, This asshole in Jackson, self published in your Love In Creativity Project.

Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came"
by Robert Browning (only section 34 from the above titled poem)
Picture and poem fragment curtisy of, and From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

Inspired by a post from Writerquake click here


Here,
XXXIV.
File:Thomas Moran Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came 1859.jpg
Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came painted by Thomas Moran in 1859.
There they stood, ranged along the hillsides, met
To view the last of me, a living frame
For one more picture! in a sheet of flame
I saw them and I knew them all. And yet
Dauntless the slug-horn to my lips I set,
And blew "Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came."










Tuesday, January 3, 2012

The world under


The world under

Look closely
The world under the world over
Is a lovely place
Held together by a fairly thin line

The sky is clearer
In the world under the world over
The grass greener
Than previously seen by you and I

Life is simple
On the world under the world over
If needed
Just fall away its no concern of mine

One thing true
Just like the world over the world under
Sad to say
Even the world under the world over isn’t immune

No matter where you’re at
Some assholes think
It is ok
To dump their shit in the woods!

Chris McQueeney  1/3/12  12:15AM

Written in response to the picture from Magpie tales this has been a fun thing for me to do if you feel like it give it a try. Credit for above picture-River, Marina Moevs, 2005

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Happy new year...

Well into the new year I wanted to send you all my best wishes!  And those of you in the Portland area who got into trouble last night....Be seeing ya soon ;-)




Empty glass

The ringing tinkle
Jingle jingle
Hark what sound is that,
Tiz it merry,
Tiz it bright?
Alas no
It’s only the lonely ring
Of ice on an
Empty glass

Where did I put that bottle?

Chris McQueeney 12/24/11 12:01 PM