Tuesday, March 4, 2014


LIFE comes from the Spirit.
Even as a man casts a shadow, so the Spirit casts the Shadow of Life,
And, as a shadow of former lives, a new life comes to this body.

- THE UPANISHADS; Prasna; Third Question.

Gentle Men...

(Moment of silence for dramatic effect)

I could absolutely convince you
Of the Abstract Tangibility of your front row
Cushioned throne
Amidst this amphitheatre
- Entirely your own -
For viewing this spectacle
Hypothetically titled:

History in The Making, As Usual

Then believe you me...

I'd make like a Beatle,
Pull a Revolver
And take a shot at it.


Life is too short.
Love is too great.
Got nothing against marketing, only too much to Give.

There is a Grand Total
- Six or seven of you -
Who have been tuning in to this Blogger Adventure of ours,
Ever since we kicked off just this past January/February or so...


Just as a fine wine
All too quickly comes down to
The One Drop,
This Blogger Adventure of ours
Is coming to a close →
A finish →
The End, The End, The End...

(Moment of silence for dramatic effect)

And yes,
A New Beginning starts now →
And yes,
We have saved the best wine
For last →

No, no, no -
I don't got no Record Deal -
No, no, no -
Can't get no satisfaction, neither,
But us Pinballs don't get caught by that
Seeing as we already be knowing that
If we're put UP we'll soon be tumbling DOWN -
Always getting DOWN for that HIGHER GROUND →

Am Building
What is To Be a Most-Exciting Website.

Via this Website,
I shall be pursuing a feat of exceeding Daring -
Relaying my Learning and Advancement for the Sharing -
Crusading on a Literary Endeavor,
By both Fine Line and Measure -
An Adventure with roots that have only begun
To Touch
To Tempt
To Thread the Darkness of All that is This Mysterious Universe

Feel me or not, dig it or don't →



And whatever role befit ya,
I ask just this and only this,
Of you -

SISTERS, Assist →
LOVERS, Love Me Do →
HATERS, Do Me Rough →
BROTHERS, Toughen UP tough, Tough, TOUGH →
And last but never least,
Gentle Men...

(Moment of silence for dramatic effect)

Yours Truly,



Monday, March 3, 2014

Sunday, March 2, 2014

§TA§O§ - Chapter 6 - THE THIEF'S THEME - 3/3 - PART 2 of 2

I was at one end of the block.
Tod was at the other end of the block.
I was walking with my chest yolked out like Popeye on Spinach.
Tod was poking around, peeking here and there, unaware I was even coming at him -
That is -
Until I let him know -

“YO! BRO!”

I yelled down the block in the deepest
Most lowest
Most mighty range I could muster.

Tod looks up like WTF -
Sees me walking at him in all my winter layers
Like some cumulus billow of rolling thunder.

“I'm not playing around,” I told him, “You got my sign or not?”

I know, I know -
All this anger and angst over a piece of cardboard
That says CUP of SOUP?
Ridiculous, I know.
But look and listen here, most beloved Reader.
If you haven't already come to terms with the fact that your narrator
Is a Ridiculous (albeit Determined) character,
Then it's probably in your best interest to start reading
Here and there
More often,
In general
And a little closer like

| between |

My CUP of SOUP? Sign
Was the reason I could financially support
My Writing – my Work – my Duty
Without having to speed off to a Food Kitchen.
My CUP of SOUP? Sign
Was the reason I could afford a Locker Apartment
So I didn't have to lug a suitcase of clothes around town.
My CUP of SOUP? Sign
Was Da Bombest of Da Bomb Signs of Wintertime NYC
Which in conjunction with
Da Bombest of Da Bomb U.S.A. Citizens
Made it possible for me to actually function
At a level of -


Almost equal to that of a normal Human Being.
Could I have made another one?
O Sure.
But face it, baby -
At this point, it was both personal and a matter of principle.

And what was Tod up to while I was trompsin' forth?

Tod was frowning.
Tod was snarling.
Tod was probably almost pissed as I was
And looking ready to push 'N shove
'N try 'N beat me up.

“Yo, what's your deal, Bro?” he starts, “I told you I don't have a clue 'bout what sign you're talking about!”

I was still approaching.

“You sure that's the Truth?”

Tod pulls his pants down; I stopped the approach.

“Search me Bro,” he said, “Come on, have a look around,” he continued, “But don't come mobbin' down the block with your 'YO BRO,' accusing me of stealing when you got absolutely nothin' on me.”

Tod wasn't wearing underwear. Served me right.

“Pull your pants up, dude,” I said, looking him in the eye, constantly reminding myself not to look anywhere else.

Seeing as it was very, very cold,
He did so as slickly as he had dropped them,
And started pacing about with fervor.

I let out an exasperated breath.

“Okay,” I said, “I'm cool – you cool?”

Tod wasn't cool.
Tod was still pacing.
Thought he was about to Tantrum.

“It probably blew under one of these cars,” I explained to him, as though he actually gave two shits. “Come on, let's go through with the plan. I'm going to go up to my Locker and get my flashlight. We'll drop you at floor #3 on my way up.”

“Forget it, man.”

Tod was still pissed.

“Gonna light this spliff up right now,” he said, reaching into his pocket, “This night has been way too much.”

And this, I imagined, was how Tod probably dealt with most problems.

“You got a light, Bro?” he asked.

I heard him ask that over my shoulder,
But didn't respond.
At that point,
I was already entering the Locker Building
Quite aware that it was precisely the exact time to carry on without Tod
And in the meantime,
Perhaps question the haphazard scenarios I was putting myself through
All in order to avoid the demands of a 'normal job'
Just in order write and write and write where and whenever I liked all

<3 <3 <3 For Universal You <3 <3 <3

I pull my keycard out
Pressed the button to open the Elevator Doors
And Lo...

Facing up...
On the industrial elevator floor in all its pepperoni/anchovy stained glory...

My CUP of SOUP? Sign
- 9 sweet letters and one question mark -
Addressing me like:

'Yeah, I've been here,' said CUP of SOUP? 'And where the f*ck were u?'

“Hey Baby,” I said, as I happily retrieved her up. “You bailed on me,” I rightly accused, “As I rightly recall tucking you in between my back and sleep-pack tight.”

Behind me.
I turned around and held the elevator doors.
A Police Car parked out front.
Two policemen exited the vehicle.
Both walked directly towards the main office of the Locker Building.
They entered.

I walked casually through the Locker Garage Entrance,
Stepped outside,
Came to halt and had a look around.

Tod was gone.
Out of sight.
Had disappeared proper like a true thief of the night.

I stood there a moment longer,
Wondering what hard times this kid was going through,
What he had done and where he was off to now.

Remembering I had work to do, I got on my way.


Saturday, March 1, 2014

§TA§O§ - Chapter 6 - THE THIEF'S THEME - 3/3 - PART 1 of 2

In the Elevator,
Going down,
I wedge my 'CUP of SOUP?' Sign
Between my back and sleep-pack,
In order to free my hands up
In preparation to loosen and untie
My left Dr. Marten Steel-Toe Boot that was hurtin' something awful.

The boots had seen better days...
Just not any time recent.
Between the weather and my daily trompsin',
They were plain as day, wrecked beyond ruin.

Elevator doors opened,
I stepped out and through the automatic sliding doors
To the warehouse-like opening of the Locker Building Entrance
Where I kneeled down
And got to adjusting.

“Arghhh...” I groaned.

Along the seam of the front of the shoe,
Where the leather was once upon a time connected to the sole,
The Steel-Toe of my left boot was exposed,
Stuck at an awkward angle that I was trying to finagle,
As it was clamping the knuckles of my toes.

“Man,” I said, still working to adjust it, “Need to get me out of this Old Brown Shoe...”

Just then,
The security comes out of his lookout post,
Walking towards the main office,
Being followed by this outrageous kid -
Maybe 24 or 25 years old -
Who is yelling after the guard
Who pays him no mind.

“Why won't my card work?!” he cries -
“Why won't you let me inside?!” he shouts -
“Why won't you let me up to get my stuff?!” he demands.

Security guard pivots hot on the spot.

“You know exactly why...”

Had come to a complete stop at the security guard's most punctual spin move.

Even I was impressed,
Not to mention, a little curious as to what exactly
Temper-Tantrum-Tod had been up to in what must have been his more finer moments.

Without further word,
The security guard turned back around
And entered the Main Office.

And while Tod remained standing in place,
I double-knotted my boot
And stood up.

Suddenly, he noticed I was there.

“Hey you know if there are stairs in this building?

He was tall.
6 feet, approximately.
His choice of apparel suggested the peculiarities
Oft associated with the word 'Hipster.'
He had dark eyes and long, dark hair that rested against his chest.

“Yeah,” I said, “But you're going to need a keycard to get up.”

At my statement,
He looked as though he wanted to ask me something,
But he turned
And promptly,
Walked out the garage and into the night.

I stood there a moment after,
Wondering what hard times this kid was going through,
What he had done, and where he was off to now.

Remembering I had work to do, I got on my way.

I had just started walking up the dark block,
Headed towards Times Square,
Figuring on which highlighted corner would best suit tonight,
When I see Tod,
Leaning against the wall
Like how the Greaser's did back in the 50s
When they had nothing better to do.

Our eyes meet on the pass.

“Good luck with everything, bud,” said I.

He shakes his head.

“It's all so stupid,” said he.

I shrugged and continued on.

30 seconds later,
I hear footsteps catching up with me.
I turn around
And sure enough,
Here comes Tod, appearing as though he were ready with something to say.

“Hey Bro,” he started, “Would it be okay to borrow your keycard to get up to my locker?”

Two words -
'NO WAY' -
Had appeared in my mind almost as fast as I said:

“Nah, man.”

And like that
All the hope,
Tangibly gleaming on his eyes went dark again.

“ 'Kay.”

Like that,
He hunched and turned
And slowly walked back to from where he came.

Without further ado,
I was moving towards the street I was soon to cross,
Only now
Entertaining just another one of the many Internal Monologues, in mind -
Each unique in both design and personality -

Impressive, JB.
You've come a long way.
Once upon a time, there wasn't a more slim and supple push-over.
Look at him now.
Cutting throat.
And a Bro, too...
A Bro...
Likely leading a life like you...
Asking for a helping hand from you...
Kinda sorta exactly like how you're about to go ask for a helping hand -
For a 'CUP of SOUP'
From strangers walking past you.
And what a crazy world you are partaking in creating -
Strangers helping Strangers,
While here you are,
Cutting throat.
Bro, I don' know what circuits you been splicing into
But you done up'd your game some incredible sum.
Well done.
Cheers to you.
And to Tod back there,
Stuck outside and all alone in the winter cold.
Hey maybe you could bring him some soup later.
Maybe you could-

“Yo Bro,” I called out.

He turned around as I was walking towards him.

“What floor you on?”

At first,
He's lost for words,
Then firmly states -


I stop before him.

“Okay,” I say, “First off, I don't want no trouble.” I looked at the Locker Building. “What's going on between you and them is your business, but that Locker Room is Home Sweet Home for me too. Whatever is about to take place in there - you don't know me, I don't know you. Understood?”
“Got it.”

“Good. Here's the plan,” I continued, “I'm going to enter the building. You're going to follow me by about 30 paces, only moving more quickly. I'm going to enter the elevator. I'm going to insert my keycard and press button #6 for the sixth floor – the floor where my locker unit is. Right around then, I am going to look up and see you entering the Elevator. I'm going to leave my keycard in, ask you 'Which Floor?' and you are going to say 'Third Floor,' just like that. I am going to press button #3 and then I am going to press the 'Close Elevator Doors' Button.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Remember,” I continued, “There is a security camera in the elevator, and they might be watching. Having said that, you better do what you need to do and get out of there fast. Next time I see you, I want to hear how it all went.”

He smiled at that.

“Let's do it,” he said.

And for those moments between us, It was like Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer were back together again -
Two ragamuffins fit for wiles and frolic,
All amidst a different episode
Along the same Big River.

I signaled him to stay
And started off down the block
Headed for the Locker Building.

Nearly a minute later,
About to enter the industrial garage opening,
I reached into my pocket for my wallet to pull out my keycard -

Then stopped on the spot.

“My sign...”

I started looking across the ground.
Not only was it night, but the whole side of the street was unlit.
Moments later, along came Tod.

“What's the hold up?” he asked.

I started walking back down the block.

“Did you see my sign?”

“Your sign?”

“Yeah,” I said, “Cardboard. Square. Formerly the foundation of a pizza box?”

He shook his head and I sighed and continued retracing my steps.

I walked the whole block.
No sign in sight.
I was getting restless.

“Can't find it?” he asked.

“Nope,” I said, and casually asked. “It's not in your pocket is it?”

I was looking at his winter coat,
Aware that its thickness could have it
Easily concealed at the very instance.

“Nope,” he said, in the same tone as me. “I don't even know what sign you're talking about.”

I sighed again.

“Alright, well help me look for it,” I said, “We're not going through with the plan till it's found.”

So Tod joined in on the search
While I was peeking between the Moguls
Of Day-Melted/Night-Frozen Ice, piled on both sides of the sidewalk.

I looked beneath cars, parked alongside the road.
I searched all over and around every place feasible,
Finally towards Times Square
Where I had been formerly headed,
When that Internal Monologue returned once again,
With more things to consider.

Hold up - let me ask you this -
How could he say, 'I don't even know what sign you are talking about?'
Huh? Doesn't he know you have a Blog on Blogger?
Doesn't he know you zip your routine on the fly? And regardless of whether he does or doesn't,
Can we both agree that Temper-Tantrum-Tod is Trouble?
You seen it.
You know it.
Now you're in it with the guy, JB.
This kid who stashed your sign when you weren't looking,
Cuz let's face it, JB,
This kid is living in the same hood as you,
Where stacking dimes is a means to getting by.
Your Business is now his Dinner,
And in the meantime,
No Soup for You.

'I can't even believe this...'

And like that,
I'm thinking on the very lines of my neighbor,
Who fifteen minutes prior was reciting:

“...You never do until it happens to you...”

I shook my head to snap myself out of it, when Tod decided to pipe up.

“Maybe it's upstairs...”


“In your locker...” he suggested. “Are you sure you had it when you came down?”

I thought and nodded.

“I'm sure,” I said, then added. “I'm going to go retrace my steps again...”

Again, I turned around and walked the block,
And the further I went, the more positively convinced I became
That it had been ever so neatly stashed by this endearingly smooth criminal.

By the time I had near-reached the end of the block,
My temper had rising to proportions
Sharp as the Shark-Tooth Hacksaw of my Leatherman Supertool...