Saturday, May 31, 2008
Friday, May 30, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Theodore Roosevelt National Park: Mental Image #1
naked Dakota sun is ultra-radiant and unrelenting
a bit like being in a convection oven,
but the harsh and uncompromising badlands
form a glorious geological anomaly
an homage to the inevitability of time.
The earth is carved with parched watercourses
that snake down from hilltop to valley
towering buttes bring stark relief to the plateau,
from a distance they look so permanent
but they crumble at the lightest touch
only conscientious conservation has kept them pristine.
Dotting the uplands are herds of brooding bison
blind to the beauty that surrounds them
wishing only for the night to bring cool rain,
in a small wooded vale that appears magically
over a desolate climb of rocky soil
an antelope bounds gracefully through the trees.
Red-tailed Hawk circles watchfully overhead
taking the measure of a chattering town of prairie dogs
who noisily defend the entrances to their tunnel mazes,
a proud stallion takes a prominent place atop a ridge
his magnificent mane flows behind him in a breeze
he acts with absolute freedom and fearlessness in his domain.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Village de Valeur/voleur; on the road/sur la route
--one pair boots, rubber
--one science magazine, French
--one novel, French (la peste, par camus)
--one turtleneck, white
--one pair gloves, camoflogue
--one sun hat, dorky
And why, you may ask? (ask here).
Because I am going back to the bush for a while to plant trees.
This is post #3679. I may possibly plant that many trees in a day, but it's more likely that i'll plant it in 2 days. Or 3.
Josey doesn't know it yet, but I may crash in his tent for a few days.
I told my boss at the dishwashing job that I had to go away for two weeks and they fired me. Yes, that's right. They fired me. From dishwashing.
However/and/also, I'm now the visual art writer for the Mtl Mirror-- for the summer, at least, until their regular person returns.
Officially, I would say, this marks the end of Chapter 1 of my Montreal odyssey. Pictures to follow.
(p.s. Peg-town, May 31 to June 3-- brekkie, where and when?)
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
Witness's Statement
Once one accepts the inevitability of both poles of reality and realizes that neither extremes are benevolent or malevolent in their inherent nature is the only way in which one can achieve the grace to navigate through each reality, moment by moment which neccesarily encompasses both extremes.
It's only through love, strength and acceptance of these fundamental facts that we can hope to transcend the factory of ideals, compartmentalism, exclusion, and alienation from the common force that has primordially unified us all since the dawn of time. Fear of death equals selfishness, and as humans I believe we have the capacity to transcend this shackling propensity. We're all going to die someday, that's a fundamental truth. Fear is a natural reaction to this tenet, and no one should be ashamed of experiencing it as it is a logical fear to be extricated from the only idea we have of life. The unknown is what we really fear.
So maybe the key is not to fight death, but to realize that it's just as beautiful as birth and just as necessary to our existence on this planet.
Like a type of weird book that you loan from the library and eventually have to return so someone else can read it.
However, with this fear of death that has been packaged and sold to us, through conscious and subconscious means, we all seem to have this unspoken desire to live forever. The idea that we can fight through everything, with magic and science technology and skin peels. But what if we can't. Is it the death denial of our society that allows us to shave away forests and replace them with manmade clones in digital linear rows in place of the chaotic and fruitful ones. Does it allow us to vomit billions of dollars worth of beef onto land that was meant for us to sustain on it alone. Maybe our death denial allows us to ignore the fact that we can't keep this thing together for too much longer.
But who ever said that we were the smartest. When did God ever come down to say that you deserve to live forever?
I have a secret desire to live for just 400 years then I could do the work of at least four people. That would be fun. 80 years seems short to me. Imagine the possibilities.
You can see microcosms of all these truths in the mundane existence of everyday life. Fly gets swatted on the wall but he/she tries to run away for fear of dying. In a linear way, body language reflects primal urges of lust and aggression that may be too primitive for us to even be aware of. It's all just a big messed up soup of love, cells, hate, ugliness, beauty, dirt, water, and dust that we find ourselves in these days.
One thing I've experience in nursing school is the fascination in seeing things evolve from being obscure and mindless into something this is very visceral and tangible. There's a certain addiction to seeing these realities unfold so effortlessly. It challenges my fear of death. But out of this revelation can come this sick preoccupation of actually witnessing these osbcure idealisms being born into harsh yet beautiful realities, and from that stems a humour so dark it could almost be confused with being morbid. You are the witness and have the opportunity to heal (which in itself remains obscure yet undeniably powerful), and with your humble hands finding out that you do have the power to heal doesn't take away from yourself but makes you STRONGER. But you have to be careful.
You know when sometimes you have that feeling that two concepts, ideas, or experiences have clashed and the clashing feels like a slow chemical reaction that is releasing all these substances and you know that this is changing you, for good. It can be beneficial, but I've seen it make alot of people hard, and hating.
Maybe that is just our inherited fear?
Songs
P.S. That might work even if you don't have a facebook account, but I have no idea!
Sunday, May 11, 2008
i believe
in the craft
and I’m looking out
at the mine
in the distance
in the shafts
of light swirl
in the soup
of this lake
in the bottom
of the boat: is line, lure and
bait (small, feathered, metallic creatures
painted the colours
favoured by old ladies)
my hands
fresh egg smeared
from the soft insides
the fish
we’ve already caught.
when we paddle further out
you complain
about everything
I don’t .
in the happily float
here
in the echos
and the inlets
where we climb sharp rocks
and sit
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Friday, May 09, 2008
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Nowhere
I bet you're talking about me soon
Well, I'm just staring up at the moon
It's a million miles from nowhere
Pretty face, can't remember the name
Don't you know they're all the same
And I'm real tired of playing this game
It's a million miles from nowhere
After it's gone you can't bring it back
So won't you cut me a little slack
I'm just heading out the door in the back
It's a million miles from nowhere
I didn't think things would be this way
But that's a story for another day
Now's the time to get out and play
It's a million miles from nowhere
It's always something, or something else
There's no end of tales to tell
But all I know is I wish you well
It's a million miles from nowhere
Look at you in your sitting room
I bet you're thinking about me soon
And I don't know what I'm gonna do
It's a million miles from nowhere
by Sky Onosson (c) 2008 sorasongs
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Just a Moment
Yet I know it will dry up
Like the perspiration on my skin
The trick is to keep cool
And to make it expand
Magically, elastically
It's not a trick at all
It's the true magic
There is only one way
To create
Something worthwhile
And that is to let go
There is only one way
To say what you really mean
And that is to open up
There is only one way
And every other way
Takes you there
It just takes a little longer
And my only question is...
Why does alcohol always seem to help so much?
Monday, May 05, 2008
Across Your Heart
told by a wandering mendicant
of wheels and heels
who rob you blind
of turnstiles and logpiles
to navigate by.
Here's the way it is
told so eloquently
that even the fortuneless beggar
is rich from hearing
the dying man relieved
to be free from his fearing.
Here is all,
and that's all there is
sealed by a kiss
stolen from her lips
as the clock slowly ticks.
That's the truth,
hope to die.
i recieved this letter in my email box
Your blog A L f A caught our attention. I'm the founder of a recently launched startup for bloggers. We are searching the internet for the world's blogs by geography, and we found yours for Winnipeg. I would like to invite you to our site which plots the content of the internet on an interactive map of the world. VerveEarth is an entirely new way to surf the net. It shows spatial and geographic connections that a blog search engine could never reveal.
The site is www.VerveEarth.com. Once on board, you can easily claim your blog a place in the VerveEarth world. The site is free to use and a way to drive new traffic to your blog. If our vision resonates with you, please give us a mention or add our widget to your blog. Please see our FAQ for any questions, and we welcome your feedback. The VerveEarth team will make a timely reply.
www.VerveEarth.com
Kind Regards,
Clayton
CEO VerveEarth.comEmail clayton@verveearth.com,
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Requiem for a Fish
viewing every intruder with displeasure.
Envy, malice, and greed, your tools.
Violence, persistence, cunning, your weapons.
Your true enemies, you never knew,
never saw, never conceived of.
But your unfailing wore even us down
until finally we relented.
Now, Midas-like, you sit alone,
and all truly is your own.
And so, with the accuracy of a child,
you were named,
King.
On Cities
Frozen wooden hovels
and a view of nothing
Morass of crushing cultures and sediment
Tumbleweeds blow through the post-midnight alleys
and look out for the knives
or just a punch in the face
Two-bit towns and overpaid dreams
fighting for the thinning air
There was a time when,
trekking across the continent,
I envisioned a different reality
But all that greeted me were other seekers
in the welfare line expecting handouts
Crammed into sardine-cans
holding down any job they could pin themselves to,
living off tips of the leftovers of overpriced pints
Where are they now?
Success, failure, one step forward and two steps back
I passed by all of them like a ghost,
not even seeing where I was,
haunting only my own past
The world is the world is the world
One and one is one
My path is your path is not your path is not my path
And every city is the same
Take the labels off, shuffle the people around
It's all the same
Grow some trees, shave off some mountains
Snow, rain, hot or cold
It's all the same
Swahili, Malay, Quechua
Urban suburban pan-urban un-urban post-urban
Wherever it is you're going,
just take a look -
someone else is going the other way,
looking for the same thing.
Prescription
Count me out.
Hasta la vista, baby.
The fat lady has sung.
The show's over.
Elvis has left the building.
Dinner is served.
The meter has expired.
The writing is on the wall.
It's sad to say, we knew it all along.
It's time to reap what you have sown.
It's time for the big payback.
I'm all right, Jack.
Keep your hands off of my stack.
Let's shine a little light on the situation.
Keep your cool.
Don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes.
Sentimentality is for suckers.
Dream on, dream on.
The kettle has boiled.
The lid is off.
The cat is out of the bag.
Somebody catch that damn cat.
P.S. This isn't personal...
this is not post 3638
3638
there are no
words here there are
or is
nothing to
write about this is (maybe) (not) the
last post
(cue trumpet/bugle solo)
this is the first
time
this is the
end of the
beginning of the
start of
things that were
or were not this
is not the time or the
place this is not the
moment hear
here
the sound
endless song of
eternity
threescore beat of
emanation hear
sound itself moment
/movement
coming into
being
in the
slow descent of
eminance and
emmenance
into end.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Burton
Look deep into my eyes.
Magnify your screen and look deep into my eyes,
examine my emaculate mustache
and penetrating eyes
this is the face of MANITOBA
Spending 400$ on entrance fees I entered every bar in the vicinity re-presenting the almighty King LOUIS
aMONG A DOzen hobos I preached the docterine of the metis rebellions. And all listened and remembered. Even the Haida carver of totem poles.
Entering every subteranean rave scene I entered bravely representing the spirit of sexy Jah.
EWven among the demon worshipping black metal tibe people I listened and told them of Manitoba and they understood.
Then once all the pretty girls coming Louis ducks behind the bar mumbling randomly about the apocalyp0ze of 20112
Do not fear
I have humbly solicited 56 hobos towards the cause of alfa
cause of truth
cause of the earth which is yearning to be heard
but whose's voice is styfled by fox tv
do not fear, I have talked with the Irish and althought they forgot about leprechauns I reminded them and then they miracouolsy remembered.
There are leprechauns.
And of course Im writing on this stupid blog like this crazy person and nobody beleived me.
But I swear that there is a spirit of the earth that cannot be denigned.
But Im serious, how many ways can I advise yoU?
Consume some sort of intoxicant, be it booze or mushrooms or anytinge,
Go to a natural place, and then Listen
Our mother needs to be listene3d to.