(poem)

place prejudice
in lust and resentment

only to come home
to alcohol
church songs
combined in bedrooms

postcards and poetry
litter the bathroom
where the razors
and the soap
echo evident emptiness

the person i once knew
writes only songs now
visit my arms like a stranger
never has the intent of coming back

the assimilation
comprehension
of augmented adjacent
sounds

is only the apparent behavior
of perversion;
love
and redemption

Submarines!

Have you heard this band? The Submarines are a soft pop duo emphasizing in a reflective, bittersweet but yet plaintive collection of songs. Honeysuckle Weeks, released in May of 2008, is a happy and sweet album which has a consistency of well put together pop songs. I recommend whole-heartily.

Also, Cheap Wine and Poetry: Thursday March 26th 7pm. Be there.

(check this guy out) (totally stolen from Juniper) ( I am so in love)

Post Fraud
A poem by Charles A. Rogers

I made a list of
My enemies
And it is you
Sleeping

I may have your blood vessels
In my hands and between my teeth
(and that most likely will not change
whether or not I return to exist
in this moment on into infinity)
I have no expectations of rewriting that list

In fact,
You can have my pencils
I've made my point

---

Wait a Minute
A poem by Charles A. Rogers

So, Spider-man lost
His job as a super hero
And Peter Parker lost
His job as a photographer
So Peter took his outfit
And got work as a male stripper
So now he drinks a lot
And MJ moved in w/ her mom
Because he hit her
When he was drunk

Happenings and Happenstance

I'm needing models (of sorts) to take portraits of. I have a bunch of black and white film and need to take photographs of faces for my own enjoyment. Let me know if your interested.

On Saturday, March 7th, at 7:30 PM, Artocratic Presents
Greg Dember,
Evan Gross,
and Willem van Spronsen/ the Super8

at the Neptune Coffee house 8415 Greenwood Ave. N. Seattle

I am good friends with Willem/The Super 8 and they can be found here: www.myspace.com/thesuper8band

Well worth the check out at least.

Speaking of bands, Saint Brickhouse is changing to Mahoot and has some wicked songs up at:
www.myspace.com/mahootmusic

Other than that, I wrote my shitty poetry I then proceeded to throw out. I lost my work when I lost my harddrive so I'm struggling trying to re-create and innnovate new stuff.

Been working hard on this so called "memoir" which is primairly about two very different points in my life I merged into one. Its "creative non fiction" for sure.

Here is something small I was wrote one night with my head in my clouds but my feet hung tight to the ground

Passive moments in wintertime as it paved into spring. I left you when the morning arose and I found myself a new person hiding beneath this skin. Finding love in overlapping circles of social grace and personified glory. A car driving north to friendships on tin foil and lace. A clean house and a romantic gesture leaves traces of forgotten romance that died in early 2004 with a man, a guitar and a hope for the future.

There is a silence in the early morning when the rest of the world is sleeping and I’m taking pills and drinking drinks to keep the hurt from turning to hate. There is nothing else to say. I swear, I know it’s true. I keep remember the day you first left, the cocaine on the floor, the trip to the dump. “I *heart* huckabees” on the television. The kisses and the promises that we would never keep. There is a tired romance that comes with greyhound terminals and the lovers I have left for dead at them. Leaving always, for farms that hold no home. Its as if holding you in my arms were as if holding strangers to lose change they ask.

There was a connection so deep between us it scared the life out of anybody who came close. Or, at least, that is what you told me. It explained a lot. I tried, for months I tried, to figure out how to say hello without sounding so cruel. Then I tried to say goodbye without sounding cruel. It's hard.

That is all.