like teeth to the gum {and tonight i will play}
sometimes {as i suppose i have most certainly mentioned before} the words will not move from me. they are attached like teeth to the gum. strong and white and unmoving. {slowly shifting?} perhaps i should brush them and somehow coax them to the tips of my fingers. seduce them. tease them and bite at them. their shoulders. clutch their hands and remind them that there is no fear in the world out here, no fear in true love, only love itself.
i write and delete and write and delete...which is rare, usually i just write. at first there were words about rafael riqueni and the tone of his guitar. how for some reason, his playing feels to me so languid and nostalgic. but cooler {cold, temperature-wise, icy, but not frigid, not icelandic, warm and rich, but cool. barcelona, not cordoba...bla bla. slack. then i wrote of christian kiefer because of the word slack and that song of his, with the most spectacular string playing in the world.
"you're like a book of familiar quotations, and every insightful meditation, like wire come into my heart, keep the skeletons from taking apart..."
then it was that miserable apartment in manhattan with grafitti in the hallways, and needles on the floor and people getting shot. and then it was mike and i cycling in the wind, those unbearable 50 mph gusts in the valley. lunging into the wind, lips raw from its scraping and lashing, us giggling at the absurd power of it, and the feeble, feeble, feeble bodies we possess. humans. then it was my fears and my love for this bike trip that will ensue in a mere 32 days. 33. 34. where will i be in 34 days? where will i be in 334? oh how life takes us and shakes us around sometimes, leaving us dizzy with joy. how can one know so completely and with such certainty what their path in life is, where they must go next? i have never felt like this. all senses heightened, everything in such a copious flurrying. scurrying, blurrying, purring. a blessing to say the least, and these open arms the ones i've longed for. asked the universe for. waited for. pined for, though i still pine. the universe itslef embracing me, all of me. mussing my hair {what little there is at the moment} as i move from old places to new ones, the rules change and the answers and the truths fall into me like sleep. the veils drop, and i come alive in this place of transition. and there were more words, but they are mine now. not yours. swallowed. mine mine mine. mine oh mine oh mine oh. "oh me oh my oh look at miss ohio."
and tonight i will play what will be my last show for {likely} a very long time. christian and i at {yes, a revisiting of paragraph one} the true love. how i will miss those nights, deep in my core, sitting in some place, somewhere, talking to christian before one of us plays. i keep feeling like it should somehow be grand and ritualistic, but my busy world demands that i simply arrive and peel back the skin, for what else can we do? peel back the skin.
Posted by jeff pitcher at April 30, 2004 11:03 AM
....................................
Freedom is not "terribly real." You are so melodramatic. You may be feeble, I am not. You are so melodramatic. I think people are drawn to you because you pose no threat. And so many men in this world have been emasculated. Women don't know what to do with a real man. So they come here. When you realize why winning IS everything you will be happy.
Heh, John Rensing
Posted by: John Rensing at April 30, 2004 11:53 AM
John,
Are we all not feeble in some ways? Or are some humans perfect? You?
I possess vulnerabilities. Others are stronger faster and smarter then me. If I slide off an icy cliff into the Grand Canyon I may die. I have given my whole heart to love, and had that heart broken. Forceful winds and radiation from the sun give me chapped lips that crack and sting when I drink orange juice; orange Juice. Understanding my weaknesses has helped shaped my perceptions and given me a greater sense of the power that lies in other things, people, ideas, etc… Respect. There is a deep strength in respect I can perceive in those that understand and feel it. A quiet confidence without bravado that makes chest -thumping look silly by comparison.
Are you not feeble?
And what is a real man?
You imply that women come her because they “don’t know what to do with a real man.” Why do you think women lack this knowledge? Many of my dear friends are women that know exactly what they want. Perhaps they desire things that you do not, or perhaps you desire the same things. Perhaps?
In the past you have said that you are drawn to this site because you “love controversy.” Is this true? Or are you drawn for the same reasons you suggest women are?
-Mike
Posted by: Mike Schwartz at April 30, 2004 01:15 PM
Yeah, I'm drawn cause I'm in the closet. Complaining about chapped lips is a waste of time. There are other things to complain about. Chapped lips do not make me feeble, I heal. I question whether or not you or others here truly inderstand their weaknesses. As for the definition of a real man, I don't have the time of inclination to get into that here, and it would only be my perception of one. But... A real man (that sounds ridiculous, but my words) pursues his desires and makes excuses to no one. Understands himself. Knows reason. Does not live his life based on fear. Knows how to control his emotions. Is responsible for himself. I don't think pitcher has any of these qualities. I only percieve a human with no foundation, living in fear and anger.
hi semotion seems contrived. I should start my own blog at this point so you (collectively) can start picking me apart. My soul is not so open to others. I used to know pitcher, not well. It is a shame, the way he's headed.
Bring it on.
John Rensing
Posted by: John Rensing at April 30, 2004 03:09 PM
dear john ~ i want to tell you to fuck off. but then i get compassionate and feel really sad for you. i know, you will have some smart-ass comment back to me and get some sort of hit off of doing this thing you do, day in and day out...blah blah blah. addictively mean, you are.
i would take a million jeff pitchers over one of you any day.
Posted by: jen at April 30, 2004 05:11 PM
John, do you realise the most you bring out of people is pity? What a shame for you. It breaks my heart to watch you jump up and down and yell "look at me" on this site. You come here because it fills a void in your life. You stalk this site looking for recognition you can't get anywhere else. There are a million sites and a million blogs open to your opinion and contribution and you choose this one - either you have been allotted way more precious time than others or it serves a purpose for you...the question is what is the purpose and when will you realise that it's not and never will be lived out here? You are not the top of the food chain and no matter how you gnaw and chew out people on this site they continue to breath and be. Truly live and graciously let live. You should have your own blog. Jeff has opened the door on his own cage and is getting ready to fly. It would be great to see you do the same.
Posted by: karyn at April 30, 2004 10:28 PM
maybe john is just bored. maybe if this is how he wants to spend his time, that should be okay. i don't pity him, for one. if that matters.
Posted by: irene at May 1, 2004 01:27 AM
Mmmm. It is so easy. Irene, you are closest. But I'm not bored. I have to many things to do in the day. I spend, maybe, 20 minutes each week checking up on pitcher. Maybe. Jen, I love it when you tell me to fuck off. I saw no compassion in your post and that's OK. Karyn, If you or I don't know my purpose, how can you say it won't be lived out here? Maybe it already has. And I would rather be a spear than a fly swatter, so I come to this site and rattle this cage. I have no cage. My poetry lies in other places. I like to think I am a peom. Or a painting. Yes, a painting. And the world is the canvas for the for the painting that is I. :)
Namaste, John Rensing
Posted by: John Rensing at May 1, 2004 11:32 AM
Actually, I find John's remarks quite humorous, very amusing in fact. And usually, dead on the mark. He's right, you know. Y'all need to get your heads out of the clouds. Hehehe. Keep it coming, Mr. Rensing.
Posted by: Klimke at May 3, 2004 01:10 PM
