Honestly, I'm a Liar, & Other Balances & Imbalances

January 30, 2010

from “In Watermelon Sugar”, Richard Brautigan

Filed under: fragments, prose — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 8:26 am


Today, if he had lived, Richard Brautigan would have been 75 years old. May he rest in peace.

This exerpt is from early on in the pleasurable prose  of his “In Watermelon Sugar”

 guess you are kind of curious as to who I am, but I am one of
those who do not have a regular name. My name depends on
you. Just call me whatever is in your mind.
If you are thinking about something that happened a long
time ago: Somebody asked you a question and you did not know
the answer.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was raining very hard.
That is my name.
Or somebody wanted you to do something. You did it. Then
they told you what you did was wrong–“Sorry for the mistake,”–and
you had to do something else.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was a game that you played when you were a child
or something that came idly into your mind when you were old
and sitting in a chair near the window.
That is my name.
Or you walked someplace. There were flowers all around.
That is my name.
Perhaps you stared into a river. There was somebody near
you who loved you. They were about to touch you. You could
feel this before it happened. Then it happened.
That is my name.
Or you heard someone calling from a great distance. Their
voice was almost an echo.
That is my name.
Perhaps you were lying in bed, almost ready to go to sleep
and you laughed at something, a joke unto yourself, a good way
to end the day.
That is my name.
Or you were eating something good and for a second forgot
what you were eating, but still went on, knowing it was good.
That is my name.
Perhaps it was around midnight and the fire tolled like a bell
inside the stove.
That is my name.

January 29, 2010

Valentine Day’s cummin

“life is like a stage, I guess

love is stages of undress”


side effects may include

-absently staring into space (not time)

-walking into walls

-walking through walls

-delusions (the good kind)

-A cute optimism

-serious loss of scepticism, doubt, & Down.

-control issues

-Fact, being better than it seems

-a packed pocketful of dreams

-spells of snow angels

-pretty picturewindows in a bomb shelter

-There’s a bird on a word

-There’s a drunk in a midnight chord

-we all scream.. for vanishing cream

-“..walkin within up upon the wind,wakin skate-scattered in at the water…”

-Alas, Atlas, tonight at least…
-don’t operate heavy machinery

-Blue Skies

catalists: Rickie Lee Jones & Polly Jean Harvey,saveme sunni,poetess Gillian Kidd Osborne, et ma lune

January 25, 2010

Refusing Dawn

“Outside… I’m masquerading,

Inside…My hope is fading..”

                                           Smokey Robinson, from  ” Tracks Of My Tears”

                         –              –            –             –               –

                     REFUSING  DAWN,  AND  GUTS  FOR  LOVE

I can Recognize, but hell,
I can’t Realize so well.  

I’d drink more coffee but my cardiologist insists I don’t
I’d drink more coffee but my heart man
prescribes “not so smart, man”.
I’d think more whiskey would push me
to bask at last in a primal light,
but my general practitioner generally frowns
about practicing until I get it right.
I’d read more
but eyes see less.. I digress,
I’d come 2/pray more/give in/give more/dream-sleep in/weep for once/
walk the lit dark like I used to/
take the darklight I’ve refused to.
I can Recognize, but hell,
I don’t Realize so well.

January 19, 2010

Thinking of you today, Edgar (born 1/19/1809) RIP

“When danger approaches, sing to it” 

                                                            -Arab proverb

January 16, 2010


“If you can’t go over,  you must go under.”   – Jewish saying/

berating my breathing

is no way to go

I know a self- seething,

self- searching  finds no

diamonds  just rough.

to stick a hand into the same elastic

one claims the clammy same old stuff


one claims  the same old soft


January 13, 2010

Answer To

I’ll swear I’ll answer

To some other

Gruesome monster

Than me,

(& my gal).

Higher powers,

Et  al

In fact I’ll face up

Soon as the sun’s up

January 10, 2010

“Is This It?”

“Is this It?”
I’ve always kept this away
asleep before this one feeling
can fuck w/me alone  (eyes on the ceiling)
I’ve kept it at bay
with whiskey, & the fantasy of Art
I’ve consistantly insisted on
not being too damn smart
Illusion and delusion and confusion
for a start
It’s not all how you look at it
it’s how you don’t,
don’t ask
“Is this It?”

January 2, 2010

Fragments II (“Unprotected”)

                    U N P R O T E C T E D

every moon tonight is so straight up

that it hurts to look up

& worship.

Cold winds blow near-black wisps

of clouds  hard  South

like veils finally flung by fists.

Cold winds will strip our disguises

“Beach Beauties” laid bare.

The sea will see that..and saw that

What’s left of  raw beauty,

Not stolen by cold air, and

unveiled,  will fare well


Fragments II (“Greedy”)

                    G R E E D Y

You figure when both my finger rings go;


Spinning in some strange sweat,

Psychic-sexual, sorta electical spin

When we come,  It  would convince you

It’s enough.

You’re one among others that won’t own up.

For lovers who share  to want to own  love,

Own  each other,   like dogs,  is just greedy.

You’re one that won’t own up that

It’s enough.