Rants, Raves, Misc.

New poem -- Complete

ninjad — Tue, 20 May 2008 21:18:35 GMT

I posted this on my other blog "Outer Space and Below" http://greenproductions.blogspot.com But I thought it was worthy to post here after all this time. Complete I need to take a walk down Motown lane Want to hear the sound of your refrain Didn't want to know but it's still the same Hit the high top laptop fear again Take the Jenga lapsis turn the dial Put the Freecell suicide in denial Eat the hopscotch butter snaps free trial With the magazine pandering freestyle Wrap the briefcase moon face with a frown Run the reboot swim suit to the nearest town Mug the bathroom death gloom turning brown Kiss the sodoku joking killer clown It's an ocean full of lonliness In a cry high tide with bitterness Around a sound of hip hop happiness Drive away with juicy wonder wilderness

Drunken Enlightenment

ninjad — Sun, 25 Nov 2007 19:09:15 GMT

This morning I woke up supremely hung over, still drunk for all intents and purposes, and at 8:30am drove to the Self-Realization Fellowship for the Sunday morning service. I had to go because I'm taking anthropology in school and I have to research a religion, but boy was it hard to meditate this morning.

Sand

ninjad — Mon, 19 Nov 2007 10:28:18 GMT

And it begins with a dream Begging brightly the cool display of your sunrise You touch the morning boat on the cold peals Of laughing water Wash me in your eyes Deep in sweat the wild cascading branches of your hair Stick in our mouths as the pilgrim's dance Cuts through the ancient vehicles of despair Quiet tides fill the room With three seperate calls of ecstasy We kill the beast as he wraps gold foil Around the neck of tender promises Like naked children we circle the fires Held by words told in green rivers Each fabled mask torn in two between two curtains Is there anything as soft as death held together? Each of us pay homage to every sliver Warm on warm we bend and we quiver Blood flowing under fur and teeth The final belief slips like vaseline screams on tired streets Stepping inside I find you Light upon light It only takes one day to realize When you look through real eyes That the cries that drag you down into halls of cheap wire Will conquer and defeat the one who guards the stairs Beneah the moon, so turbulent and clean Stark raving mad you found me And with your passion flower Made my senses sleep in the wolf's hour Winding down When sorrow finds its resting place beneath the floor I look to you when all else is lost, or more I look to you when they find me strapped to the door Leading home through silver reefs Mountains of skin and crayon pores I look to you I look to you I look to you

Artifice

ninjad — Tue, 13 Nov 2007 03:48:16 GMT

Show me the hands that scratched the earth as their earthly wardens dragged the body back to its mother. In my time I saw the hands of my friends dipped in glass, starved from paper holdings, crowded in tired fume cells. Where are the times we had together? I am a liminal intent, bent on becoming a subliminal criminal, poised on the aftershocks of despair, rocketing outward while my brother climbs the stairs. Do we have the power? It is time, my friends, to cease from circulating in the masses, making passes as fast as molasses, growing green grasses while blasting the fastest gymnastic. Spastic as amplified fire rituals. In this day in age I saw you as you reached for my heart, beating in the warm sun as you climbed my body with your hands. If only you knew the power those fingertips had as they wept bright curtains of sparkling danger. Tired as I was you touched my soul. You are the 37 grains of salt in the wound my parents gave me. The cool and quiet remains of your voice still drift to the shore of my memory like torn curtains. But you are still here and I am still here. Together, where are we? Is it a collapsed dream that I still hold together? Is it a vow waiting to be spoken? Only at the right time will I pull it out of my hat, and in a blinding flash of smoke, convert it into the thing that brings you closer. And yet, I ask myself, what is it? In all symmetrical creations, logic defies you like a prayer wheel. But prayers keep praying, over and over again, round and round they go, where they stop... I took the time to cancel my recreation. And found you there. Again. Will you ever go? Don't go, I need you here. But go. Wait, come back. Why are you doing this to me? We live and die in the complications God gave us. But I still love you.

Loss Gain

ninjad — Sat, 15 Sep 2007 19:03:39 GMT

Burning the amplitude The withering sparks of yesterday Creep with disaster toward the sky with leaves Fresh and green With floating Stillborn hopes in pools Of lipid freebase desire Performing acts of vegetation dances In the corner of her eye Partly crushed in mint fervor We licked the spoon That grew cysts of pleasure In trees of wandering lust lights And the search continues ever onward For gluttony under the sun All things done and gone For which there were The things we kept close enough To lose In broken times I caress the sun In its million fragments Viewed from My kaliedescope heart

You Know Who You Are

ninjad — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 06:17:23 GMT

It was here we made, Our hearts swaying in the silent seas, The final countdown of our seperate lives With a shout and a whisper And a wave of my hand We found lover's lane Behind your resting car Frat boy dreams Passing by Witnessing as we gaze at each other Look how the past interacts with the present With your coral dress and seashell eyes And the reminder of ancient secrets Adorning your slender neck, Radiant with the perfume of your longing, I caught your kisses before the quiet moon Who looked upon us as ghosts In the tender moments of a Los Angeles sidewalk I touched the sand that fell from your back In gentle promises they created sparks Falling toward my feet And laugh though I may Through my child's heart I searched and searched And found you And now I see you go Toward the soft darkness of the unknown membranes Of this living creature We call life Caught in a flight toward that barely reachable light Alone, Cutting the cabletows that might pull you back But for a time No, a couple of nights I'm glad to say I caught you Held you on my finger Like a ladybug And now watch you fly away

Tania

ninjad — Wed, 01 Aug 2007 08:28:21 GMT

When I dream at night Tania appears As fluid as the wind Soft and supple Her arms wrapped around my neck Her kiss drowing me In the soft beat of her heart And when she looks at me A thousand bells awaken The moment between us The scratches on my back The slight bite on my neck Sliding up to my ear Where she trembles and tells me What she likes I still feel you Though only days apart I already await your touch I still feel you As you walk down the hall to my room Up against the car The music danced as we Writhed like snakes Against the tinted silence Of the night we decided to play Laughing through the afternoon I drove you to your kiss Taking me with you in return I can't wait to see you tomorrow Dressed in the new fashion of a two day promise Of which I will never return whole At least not in light Of your presence

Different Blog

ninjad — Sun, 01 Jul 2007 19:18:29 GMT

I'm only going to use this tribe blog for poetry from now on. The blog I will post to with rants, raves, misc will now be at http://greenproductions.blogspot.com/

Glamorous Indie Paper Boat

ninjad — Mon, 25 Jun 2007 04:27:54 GMT

Of all the hearts and minds That ever connected Through the resonance of Shining eyes, It seemed to me That you were the one Who knew me the most. Inside crowded floors of My heart's desires, You spoke to me, Crystal clear Through the megaphone Of experience. It was in my car That you told me That you also cherished The many ways We came to know each other, Riding down the afternoon freeway Of all good intentions. Inside my heart There is a room with your name on the door, And in it You will find me Calling you in whispers.

insomnia

ninjad — Sun, 17 Jun 2007 11:28:23 GMT

This heat is driving me crazy!!! I really wish there were people to talk to at 4:30 in the morning. I have to get up at 6 to meet up with some friends of mine. An hour and a half away. Is it worth trying to sleep again? I've been trying since 11:30pm last night. If I fall asleep now I'll miss my friends. So many things on my mind. Need someone to talk to. I'm going to be tired tomorrow/today. Going to a spiritual healer named Amma, who does nothing but hug people all day. If I get the healing I need right now I'm going to fall asleep in her arms as soon as it's my turn. Mind is racing. Stop. Damn. That didn't work.

Lemon Grass

ninjad — Fri, 15 Jun 2007 06:10:47 GMT

She said it was a sin Chopping the conversation Down to its finer points Realizing that it's not all bad Finding the light And the secrets it contains Hoodwinked and guided She takes me like The golden medtiations of yesterday afternoon As the water flows The flower grows As her love turns toward me Guided by starlight We walk the fields Where demons sigh I see now the creation of the world Magnified under a microscope In an instant, it becomes the girl with the blonde hair She gave me the expectation I hoped to meet In certain half-deserted streets

OK Mary K

ninjad — Tue, 12 Jun 2007 09:55:51 GMT

Sipping on the sand Your eyes whisper lullabies Your face As it smiles blue Me and you And the pretty song You claim to sing Your hand As it happens to be Far removed From the beach near the forest We lie naked in the sun Bereft of our thin platitudes Washed in oblivion Thinking about the next day We laugh And say it never happened It's OK Don't worry about the city It's a wayward stop to nowhere I watch you as I get ready to go Refusing to let the daffodils show A pretty blush crawls across your chest Like an overgrown sunrise I won't be long I might just be forever

moon

ninjad — Sat, 07 Apr 2007 05:23:23 GMT

The light on your moon face Sweet child of children Smiling waves Eyes as bright as the stars you find at home Wrapped in the supple cocoon of down Your comfort shines Warm and soft Pliant and gentle The skin on your willowy toes Cold against my feet in the bottom of the blankets Your legs once again intertwine with mine But your face Your face kills me With its kindness Its sweetness Its troubled innocence And stays with me like the moon as I run

Peace and Contentment

ninjad — Tue, 20 Feb 2007 04:11:23 GMT

It's very strange, these moments of quiet contentment coming to me as if a door opened somewhere and a breeze quieted the heat that burdened me without my being aware of it. It's at times like these, when, despite what looks like a failed situation as others might think, I can look around my apartment and say to myself, "I have it good." This is not failure. It is success. I am grateful for everything that has brought me here, good or bad. I am still singing with the radio. Still laughing. Why? Because I can.

Happy VD everyone!!

ninjad — Thu, 15 Feb 2007 08:30:07 GMT

Happy Valentines Day my friends.

Grief Relief

ninjad — Wed, 14 Feb 2007 02:19:46 GMT

I need some grief relief. Anyone in LA down to grab a drink or two? I'm going to make a blog about the correlations between the sayings of Jesus, the Buddha, and "The Secret." I don't know why, but there just seem to be so many that I thought it would be an interesting topic.

Just got laid off of work

ninjad — Fri, 09 Feb 2007 09:41:38 GMT

Yesterday, 2/8/07, CAA laid me off of work. I drove home smiling, laughing, and singing with the radio.

If I were you...

ninjad — Tue, 06 Feb 2007 08:50:30 GMT

Talking on the phone to an old friend: "If you were me, how should I treat you?" ME: "If I were you...how would I treat me?" "Yeah." "But wait...If I was you...then...I would be treating myself as though I were you?" "No, you." "Me?" "Yeah. If you were me...how would you treat you?" "But I would be you if I was you. I would just go for a walk. See a movie." "No...How would you treat you." "When I am you?" "Yeah...I mean...no. I mean, yeah. You would also be you." "So I'm you, and me?" "...What was I asking again?"

Please pray for my computer

ninjad — Sat, 13 Jan 2007 06:06:21 GMT

I'm getting better health-wise and will post the rest of my photos soon. For now, however, I need people to put in a prayer for my computer, namely for the Final Draft document I've been working on for the last couple hours, which I don't know how long ago I saved, which is giving me the mac pinwheel, and I can't do anything to it. I just hope that the screenplay I've been working on, a short film, is saved up to this point, or at least close to this point because I have written some good stuff. Please, God. I know I'm an athiest...but please, God.

Sick at Home

ninjad — Tue, 02 Jan 2007 21:16:42 GMT

Had to take the day off from work today because I am very sick. Still have chills, fever, etc., and the plane rides were miserable. Need the rest though. Sally told me that she thought I arrived back to America at the right time. i guess the Sunnis are outraged because of the Shi'ite insults toward Saddam just as he was about to be hanged. I didn't know Saddam was Sunni. If this doesn't clear up soon the Sunnis and Shi'ites will go to war. America is still filtering in through the experiences I had on my travels. I had a dream last night and thought I was on a street in Rabat, carrying my IPod, though cautious of someone trying to steal it from me. I will post my first initial thoughts about America upon returning and upload my photos as soon as I get some rest and have enough strength to do so.

The hotel of Casablanca/New Year's back in Rabat

ninjad — Sun, 31 Dec 2006 14:22:16 GMT

Last night in Casablanca I got very sick. I had felt a slight chill a couple nights ago, and then driving to Casa I started to feel the oncoming effects of a flu. It turns out Sally's friends don't speak English, so I'm here in Rabat with my friend Hassan's family. Saw the sacrifice and took photos of the whole thing. On TV and all around the neighborhood people are doing the same thing. Poked my head around a corner, saw a sheep get killed, another corner, another sheep...everywhere. Last night in the hotel decided to get a massage/sauna in the hammam. I was afraid of grossing the woman out with my freezing cold hands and hot head, but I guess I didn't. I think I spent a little too long in the sauna afterwards. Afterwards I could not get warm despite the layers and layers of blankets I had on me. Chills...fever...headache...Saddam being hanged on TV... The hotel staff brought me tea, blankets, and finally, when someone could find an open pharmacy, some fizzy aspirin in water. My fever broke in the middle of the night, but my nose, presently, will not stop running. Needless to say I'm using it as an excuse to drink all the mint tea I can. I can't understand a word anyone says to me except Hassan, so I'm sticking with him around the house. Happy New Years everyone!!! esalom milaeku

Magic of Marrakech

ninjad — Fri, 29 Dec 2006 18:11:14 GMT

Marrakech is awesome!!!! Getting here was, as planned, crazy and hectic. There was no parking for the hotel, and no garage, so when I found the hotel (by the usual method of using broken french with gas station attendants) I had to circle around the nearby blocks looking for a place to park, which here is putting your life in your hands. Needless to say I found one, but as I circled around to take it, a cockroach emerged from somewhere in the dashboard of my car. My deliberation about whether to kill the insect, get the car parked, or save my life from oncoming traffic resulted in a comprimise. I tried swatting the thing, but it merely scuttled back to wherever it came from, someone pulled into the parking spot, and I swerved desperately to avoid oncoming traffic. I guess, without realizing it, I chose life. An hour of waiting on the wrong side of the road finally proved fruitful for parking. The town itself is enormous. I met up with my friend Hassan who I'm meeting again tonight along with another friend of his, who showed me a few places, namely the huge town center where all sorts of musicians from all over Africa compete with each other. Next to that is the Medina where at night the people set up huge orange juice stands and makeshift restaurants, where Hassan introduced me to Moroccon escargot. Don't get grossed out quite yet, it gets better. The snails are boiled in Moroccan herbs and served in a small bowl, and you pick the snails out with a toothpick. I think it's an acquired taste, but I could tell why they proved a good snack on a cold night. I had fresh orange juice to wash everthing down. During the day the Medina sports everything from fortune tellers to snake charmers to dancers and musicians. Leaving it, I almost stepped on a cobra. The medina itself is the biggest one I've been to thus far. The big Mosque here is right next to it, and let me tell you that it is amazing. It was built in, I think, the thirteenth century, next to an even older site that they tore down because it wasn't facing the proper direction of Mecca. Sally told me that her friends in Casablanca might be able to accomodate me for the sacrifice. Can't wait. New Year's will be a little different this year. Tonight I just managed to get some traveler's checks exchanged before the banks closed for the next four days. I was the second to the last person they let in the bank before they shut down. Now I can take a horse and buggy ride around the city.

The Sacrifice

ninjad — Wed, 27 Dec 2006 16:19:20 GMT

Now, I know many of you are thinking...whoa; two blogs in two days, while on vacation in Morocco? Well...I merely wanted to take a little time to fill all of you in on this ritual that's about to happen the last day I'm here, appropriately called "The Sacrifice." The origin of this ritual comes from the Old Testament (Islam, btw, is a branch of both Judaism and Christianity, and yet at the same time is its own being. It was originated in the sixth century AD in the middle east, uses the New and Old Testament as reference, yet the Koran is the sole book Islam uses for its moral precepts and guide to everyday life. Thus, many rituals and stories heard in Islam come straight from the Bible, even though orthodox Muslims will be the first to acknowledge that the Koran is the only true source of spiritual guidance. In the 1001 Nights there is a quote that goes, "The Christians believe that the Jews are wrong and the Jews believe that the Christians are wrong. In this way, they are both right."). The ritual concerns the story of Abraham and Isaac (although here it's Ishmael). Every family is in the process of buying a sheep during the next week. On Sunday, my last full day here, each family will take the sheep to the roof, cut its throat, and cook the sheep to eat. Several people have offered for me to watch this at their family's house, and I'm thinking that even though it sounds gruesome and a little grotesque I will try and do this and take a lot of pictures for those who care to see them. Aimee?

RIP James Brown

ninjad — Tue, 26 Dec 2006 21:38:14 GMT

But long live the soul he brought into the world.

The Rugs of Rabat

ninjad — Tue, 26 Dec 2006 21:05:57 GMT

Called my friend in Marrakech. He's going to meet me at my hotel when I get there. Can't wait. And there's another reason besides having the good company, and I now know why people looked at me strangely and asked me why I was going to Rabat. Rabat is the seediest place I've been to yet. It's the Capitol of Morocco, and thus, I guess, the most "metropolitan." My guide led me into the Medina here and into a rug shop and literally would not let me out until I bought a rug. No matter how many times I said no, no matter how much I explained to him that it was out of my budget. The merchant was pissed and told the other workers not to let me out of the shop until I bought at least one rug. Mind you, it's a nice rug, and for a reasonable price, but I was pissed after he did that to me. Not only that, but afterwards he told me that he didn't want to push me and that I didn't have to buy it. Now I have a third rug being shipped back home, if he even ships it. I met one of the guide's friends who lived in Santa Barbara. He was a cool guy and worked on Black Hawk Down, which was filmed here. He told me about how Moroccan filmmakers were so restriced by Islamic cencorship that none of them can really make realistic films. He told me that the majority of Morrocans can watch any American film, but Moroccoan filmmakers can't address any taboos in the Koranic Law. Other than that, a lot of nightclubs, a lot of seedy bars, a lot of trouble waiting to happen that's not worth it. Looks like time to take a little break before the long stretch to Marrakech. I might even talk with both hotels about dropping a night here and adding a night to Marrakech. But, c'est la vie. Anyone want a Moroccon rug? Last night in Fez I watched an episode (Exodus, part I) of "Lost" dubbed in French (Les Disparus), as well as this crazy documetnary in French about these Chinese Buddhist Monks who raise tiger cubs. These skinny Chinese monks do all kinds of crazy things to these tigers that would make anyone cringe with fear. There's a great scene where these monks take about five full-grown tigers to this watering hole. These tigers are huge, but when the tigers start acting up these guys start hitting them in the face with sticks, and the tigers, who could easily use one of them as a toothpîck, cringe and become as docile as kitty-cats. The French voice-over added an element of absurdity that anyone familiar with the French mind-set would understand. Fez is an incredibly beautiful city, and it's too bad that I haven't been able to upload any photos thus far. But when I do all of you will know. I miss Tangier.