Drowwning in Enlightenment
Located in upstate ny,at the southern end of cayuga lake,the second largest of the finger lakes, in the seat of tompkins county , lies ithaca ny.home of cornell university, ithaca gun(obviously), ithaca college and the highest waterfalls east of the mississippi river-taughannock falls. former home of carl sagan, summer home to new jersey devils star joe nuendyck. to leave ithaca you have to go uphill, the city lies in a pit . it was once the center of the film industry before they fled to sunny southern california. and in the center of it all is where you'll find the average ithacan .
welcome to the ithaca commons- lunatic central. where ,for some, it's still the summer of love and the stench of patchouli hanging in the air like a bad omen is proof. the hippies have a stronghold here and have watered down the effect of protests and marches by having one almost weekly. this is the new world order hippy who preach tolerance and acceptance of others while looking down their unwashed noses at those who don't think like they do. screaming bloody murder about the iraqi war and saving the environment ,then they climb into their beaten down vw bus that gasps and wheezes as it labors on down the road, leaving a trail of jet black oil and other automotive fluids, and sending smoke signals to the other twelve monkeys cult members griping maniacally about the current Washington administration with the demeanor of a conspiracy theorist.meanwhile they sit on the commons all day preaching about how much better they are than those who feed into the great beast that is the capitalist system ,as they sell their pot, ho-made jewelry and other hippy shit. damn hippie-crites.
out patients from the mental health services do the thorazine shuffle, the prozac rock and the haldol drool from their roosts ,as if the dodo never died.the mad buffalo hill jogger sweating off his run, "three times up, three times down" he proclaims to anyone who will listen. vinny ,the mad cackler ,howls with laughter through a blue fog of smoke , hearing the voices inside his head do their stand up routines .the angry russian and his poor , abused , shell-shocked wife make their way to the liquor store to get,yep you guessed it ,another bottle of rot gut vodka. so that he can make her fuck all the other local loonies who have twenty bucks, then beat the living shit out of her for being a whore.ahh young love. gothic matt ,the acid casualty,waits for eleven o'clock to roll around so that he can get his daily allotment of his ssi check. the mhs has to dole out his money to him ,otherwise the junkies will get him to spend all of his money on dope, then give him water shots all day.poor bastard is just so lonely ,that he'll do anything just to feel like he has a friend . a skinny little black guy dressed like a mixture of beatnik, guardian angel and black panther, hands out his poetry/rant/confession of how the government and police are harassing him. accusing him of sex crimes that i suspect he is guilty of . in the text of his testimonial ,lying among his claims of their intrusion of his life is the doozy, that the fbi planted a micro-camera "inside my penis".bernie the rock guitar god mosies along carrying a pawn shop window special , and a pignose amplifier strapped to his hip. torturing the guitar as it screams for mercy through the tiny speaker that is amazingly loud. he talks just like peter the puma from bugs bunny , the one that wants "oh three or four "lumps of sugar in his tea.from the opposite side of the commons standing in front of the first bank of ithaca is richard the schizophrenic street preacher of armageddon . not only is he entertaining but some of his one-liners are eerily sensible."nixon sold us to china for his wine collection" he bellows at whoever is unfortunate to have to do business in the bank.and my personal favorite " you can control my mind ,but you can't control my bladder" while he urinates on himself the statement that much more validity.in one of his more lucid moments, he told me he was in vietnam and that he worked for the cia,and that they planted a micro-chip inside his head so that they could tell him who he was supposed to assassinate , and they could know where at all times ." but i fooled them " he says smiling his two toothed smile as if they were dull fangs. he pulls off his hood to his sweatshirt and reveals an amazing scar, that runs from his ear to ear behind his head.he was really quite believable,and then as if a switch had been hit and he was gone,back to crazy old richard again.
at the west end sit the , sipping their swill from paper bags and arguing over who said what to who , in some three day old fight. the stench on their booze soaked bodies overtakes the patchouli."say man,"says smoothe old hovie,"ya got thirty nine cents for a quart?" his trick is to ask for a small amount and to be honest about what he is going to spend it on and he is able to stay drunk. i used to wonder what he did about sundays before they let the liquor stores stay open on sunday. they terrorize the students' families with their vulgarity and appearance as they shop for their dorm room's accessories. champ, an old boxer, hollers out to any woman who passes by,"scuze me ma'am,but your slip is showin'!". it always gets a giggle from the other drunks.he once told me a story about going out to a bar in new orleans after a fight he had down there. after a while he realized that he was in a gay bar and he voiced his downright disgust with the lifestyle they had chosen. one of the lads had taken particular offense and walked up to champ and told him " there's two things i love to do ; suck cock and fight!" and he finished his anecdote with,"well, i don't know how he sucked a cock ,but he sure went right up one side of me and down the other." after that he figured a guy that could fight like that couldn't be all that bad, so he sat there and got drunk with him for the rest of the afternoon.
the chess players slap their timers,as those waiting to play peer over shoulders scrutinizing every move. a bunch of young potheads gather together in a circle kicking hacky sack ,taking turns selling the next ten dollar bag of weed to the newest pot head on the scene. a bunch of high school punks sit and watch smoking their cigarettes too cool for everything. taking turns telling lies to each other about asses they've kicked, crimes they've pulled off and girls that they fucked . a junkie slipping in and out of while he defies gravity , holding a lit cigarette in his hand. it burns away as if it were a fuse to a bomb. his anemic,pasty-white girlfriends' eyes roll into the back of her head like a human slot machine. she turns and vomits in the bushes every time she lands on jackpot.
college student oblivious to the cruel world of fate that awaits them after they graduate and are cast off the educational assembly line into the "real world" where the answers come not from books and professors.they stoll by self absorbed noses in the air ,knowing and thinking they are better than the townie scum that they pass.
it is a collage of the human condition ,here, in this three of universe. a banker, accountant and a lawyer , sit together scoffing down lou's hot dogs,talking about business deals done and trials lost or won.overpriced merchandise, all geared towards the pockets of the parents of the students, hang in the window of in this valley of glass and cement.the latest catch phrase or rock icon ,name brand or "ithaca is gorges" printed on it. in fact, everything in town is overpriced due to the spoiled rich fucks that invade the town for four years trash it, fuck our women and leave.
fresh nubile young bodies, the old and decrepit,and everything in between all come together in this hub of activity -the eye of tompkins county.police eyeballing the young and disorderly,keeping up their paranoia and making the shopkeepers feel "safe".the stench of stale vomit, beer and bleach waft out of the bars awaiting another night of drunken college debauchery. piss stains and vomit in the doorways of the unfortunate businesses that happen to bookend the bars.kids scream from the playground as the pedophiles peep from their crevices nearby.ugly parents with even uglier children , who will have almost no chance in life,doomed at birth to continue the vicious that their bloodline has been cursed to. rolls by semi-wheelchair .first he was thunder, then silent thunder,now rolling thunder. cannister of oxygen strapped to the back of his chair, tube under his nose,feeding his emphysemiatic lungs housed inside his agent orange racked body-thanks for serving our country son!i call him by his birth name -marvin. beautiful women walk this way and that heads follow like a compass to true north. the bretton666 yells "mom" to the better endowed ones.cell phone conversations and random notes of music are carried in the wind, the players tunes ,with open cases at their feet,spare change and random dollar bills beg for companions from the felt.
self important community "leaders" pat themselves on the backs as they cut the ribbon unveiling another piece of "art" they paid a sum of money for, planning the next"city beautification" project ,undermining the city with their best ideas ,as they say in na "your best thinking got you here." litter dances on the wind as you head for a urine filled elevator to one of the parking ramps,leading you to the street-a maze of one way roads , filled with potholes to rival new york city's.they stake their claim on your cars' alignment and underside,making your escape from this "most enlightened" mecca almost impossible .

G.O.D
GOD, the great cosmic bully and joker.a blood thirsty Deity with a thousand names and a million faces. ever vengeful and watching , with the deepest pockets in the known universe. from the cavemen shivering in fear from every flash of lightning to children in sunday school learning of the sins of theirs that killed their god. oceans of blood have been spilled in his/her/its name. torture , incarceration and death all with the stroke of his mighty hand through his vicars on earth. every major event in history is shrouded in the church's shadow like an ever-present black cloud of doom. if the almighty loves us so much why does he require so much suffering and sorrow?
men sat down and wrote out the rules that were supposedly sent via burning bush, hallucination , or just downright lie, on how the one who is all wishes us to show our devotion. on our knees cowering we beg and plead for this that and the other while the divine coin flip is cast to decide the fate of our wishes. great buildings erected in honor of our creator are built daily. we flock , one day a week to give thanks for our graces and beg for mercy in our plights. follow the book these aforementioned men have written, and edited and rewritten over the centuries, mis-translations , spelling errors and outright fiction adding to the confusion. for every passage there lies a contradicting one. yet we carry the books as if they are a set of rules to a game. admit our sins and all is forgiven or "donate" 10% of our earnings weekly as if putting a down payment on our place in the afterlife.don't worry what you do somewhere in the books you can find salvation for it. the church has over-looked everything from the crusades, to the burning of intelligent women at the stake , to slavery , to the holocaust , to the anti-communist movement, to the more recent muslim wars. it seems we've come full circle fighting on the original holy battlefields where the soil is barren and the place has become a desert wasteland with pockets of greed sprouting from the earth through derricks . killing our home in the name of the almighty dollar. ignoring the signs. we had so many hurricanes this year they used the whole alphabet. floods , mudslides , melting polar caps. those appointed to lead us searching for a way to leave us once the going gets towards time to go. blood-sacrifice is at an all time high and it seems we may never quench gods thirst.

Dysfunction Junction
frustration, i see ,is going to be a familiar feeling when it comes to building this thing. i spent about two hours typing up this entry the other day and for some reason it didn't post ,i have some of it written down and i could tell myself that it is just a draft, that i wasn't finished but oh hell, i guess i better get used to that huh .i am little pissed that it happened ,but oh well.the space bar thing is way more frustrating than that. last year on the eighth of september the ny state police decided to pay me a visit but i wasn't at home, so they came to my work. you see, i was partying with a friend of mine and some asshole he was with and the guy died. they were trying to score some crack and they ended up buying 60 dollars worth of chalk . they were bummed out, so when my heroin dealer showed up they bought two bags of it. they had been drinking and doing god knows what else all day and i told him that it was a bad idea to be doing heroin . i said that the valley kid(a kid from the valley in hollywood , california) had done six beers and two shots and damn near died, off a half of a bag.i said,you are way too sensitive to dope to be doing any right now.he says the kid from the fuckin' valley ,i took half of their dope before they even got it.twenty minutes later oney was struggling for breath, i go you fucking asshole,i told you so ,i get him breathing and tell his friend go get his car and come back. he does and while he was gone i went into his pockets and took the rest of the dope. and then i got oney on his feet and walking around . when the kid came back we walked oney to the car. i told the kid, if he starts breathing like that again....and i saw the look in this kids eye and then i said i think you're gonna need to take oney to the hospital, the kid says is that gonna happen to me? and i told him if that was gonna happen it already would have , but you aren't gonna be able to keep an eye on him and he needs it so go to the hospital. they leave. the next day here comes the staties .i guess that the kid took him home and god knows why gives the guy valium,and he dies,and then tells the cops that i gave the guy heroin and that i was some big time dealer and that i shot him up and all this crazy shit and the cops believed it. oney died at 830 AM kid found him at 1130 and based on what he told them ,they got a warrant at 345 abnd were in my house by 4PM. at six they came to my job and arrested me, in front of customers and they were talking about criminal negligent homicide and that they found a bunch of heroin (200 dollars worth , less than two grams) in my house and then they took me to jail. they put me on the radio and tv news, put me in the paper and included a map to my house. while i was locked up someone tried to break in and steal my shit. and then they told my girlfriend that if she wouldn't testify against me that they would violate her probation ,so now we were both locked up. then my landlord told my folks that they were going to throw all my shit into a dumpster, so a good friend of mine rented a u-haul and stored our stuff in his barn in a town named spencer(a really small, dry town where people are fucking crazy,and incest runs rampant.i think it is the official town pastime) meanwhile they offer me a two-to-four for the whole situation and i said no fucking way ,because i was not guilty of the crimes they were charging me with, the next day they released me. i went to the barn to get some clothes , and went out with a couple friends and got drunk . while i was passed out in the truck they robbed a pot dealer and the dealer called the police and when the cops found out i was with them,even though i was sleeping and had no idea that this had even happened they assumed i was the "ringleader". they assumed that this was a heroin debt and one of the guys in the truck let them believe it . so they arrested me again and then while i was in jail, a volunteer fire-man in spencer started causing fires and the barn all of my worldly possessions were in was his first fire! he eventually got caught because he was the first man at the scene of the fires, fucking dumb ass! so when i got out the second time, i had no job and no place to live and for a week ,no girlfriend . life was miserable, but i guess it couldn't get much worse right? then my mom had a major stroke and needed brain surgery , and after the surgery i had to move in to help her out with stuff and to take care of her ,i haven't lived at home since i was 15 and now here i am at 36 living with my girlfriend at my mommy's house(how pathetic,i am surprised she didn't leave me right on the spot). then an old charge from '97 popped up and they gave me three years probation. then they gave me another three for the heroin charge . and just recently kane christianson, the dumb ass valium dealer got, 1 and 1/3rd to 4 for criminal negligent homicide for not taking oney to the hospital and then giving him valium after i told him he needed medical attention .and so here i am sitting in this chair griping to you about it whoever you may be.

A Day in the Life of a Valet
I started off as a lowly valet and eventually became half-owner of a valet business. we had the contracts of several nightclubs, fine dining restaurants, private parties , a couple .com places and best of all-strip clubs. one in particular was owned by a porn producer so i got to meet many , many , porn stars . anyway one of the clubs i worked at was fully nude and because it was fully nude you had to bring your own alcohol. so when i decided to go out and party that was the place i would usually go to .i got along especially well with the head manager mark , the head doorman ernie , and a bouncer named james. we'd get a bunch of beer and liquor and give it to the girls to ensure that we would get special attention from the ladies.
mandy was a gorgeous girl, she was all-state swimmer,in texas no less , in high school . she was beautifully toned and was extremely pretty. one night a cruel twist of fate came mandy's way, in an instant her life was changed forever. while driving home, a drunk hit her head on while driving an enormous buick. mandy was in her little mazda rx-7. the tiny japanese sports car was no match for the hulk of metal the careened over the double yellow line at 60. he didn't even hit the brakes he was so obliterated. in a matter of ten seconds mandy's leg just below the knee and the rest of her body went their separate ways,never to see each other again. mandy refused to let the accident slow her down, she went to physical therapy everyday for a year and a half and got a prosthetic leg and she returned to dancing. although she didn't have to work , and never would due to the settlement from the accident, yet i think she felt she needed to feel attractive and if a guy was willing to pay her for her company well in her eyes she was still pretty.
prosthetic limb or no, i thought she was fucking gorgeous. if you didn't know that she had a prop-as she calls it- you couldn't tell it was fake. she would do silly stuff , like let it fall off if a guy was disrespecting her and if someone pissed her off she'd throw the foot part at them . she had two different feet for the prop ; one was flat for sneakers and other flat-footed articles of foot wear and another was arched for high heels and the like. it really is pretty amazing what they can do these days if you lose a limb. they took her skin color and matched it perfectly to her prosthetic ,and gave her tanning ointment to even out the sun coloring.
mark, ernie , james , and i were sitting at a table drinking and carrying on the way drunken friends in a strip club do. i was watching mandy dance for an asian man at the table next to us. i was trying not to be obvious that i was watching , but when you are as drunk as i was you lose all of your stealth, assuming you had some to begin with. if not you're just more clumsy and oafish then you already were. but mandy knew i was watching her and she didn't mind at all, she began to look at me as she danced for her Asian man.
the boys and i continued our blast of a time we were in the VIP room , where we were supposed to be having that much better of a time,hey it's VIP. a few girls were sitting at the table with us partying. normally , one of the managers or floor bosses would pull the girls aside and say "if you ain't dancin' you're leavin'." or something less kind but since mark was THE boss exceptions were made-naturally. mandy had finished her dance with mr.chaing and excused herself from his own little party he and his friends had going. the other girls at his table were staying. there was money here and the girls could smell it like a shark can smell blood in the water, and they weren't leaving until they had every dime in their pockets/purses whatever.
mandy sat down on my lap and asked for a drink . i poured her a stiff crown and coke. i had a good buzz going and before mandy had even sat down . james and i had been trying to top the other with saying the most offensive outrageous thing one could think of, poor mandy never even had a chance. i told her i thought that mandy didn't really fit her personality and that she should change it,i paused as if i was thinking of a name and then i said "how 'bout eileen?" james laughed so hard his captain morgan's and ginger ale spurted from his nose like a faucet. mandy stared at me, eyes wide mouth wider , but smiling. i noticed the pierced and got turned on , which she noticed right away. "oh shit!"ernie yelled and mark laughed hysterically , but none of the girls did i went from the table comedian to complete asshole in a millisecond as it registered on the slower ones "yeah", i continued "mr.chaig's " table could call you irene" more guffaws from the boys and now some of the girls added a couple nervous titters here and there. mandy took it in good spirit . she had a great sense of humor ,which added to her sexiness ,and had come to terms with her accident and had moved on . she once told me that it had happened to her because she was able to accept it and that most of the other girls wouldn't have been able to saying "god doesn't give you more than you can handle " which i personally disagree with but i never bothered to tell her that. she laughed and called me a dork . which i liked because any time a girl has called me a dork or any name like that, i usually end up sleeping with her . "how about peggy ,or pipi one-stocking?" by this time we all laughed and the slight faux-pas had been forgotten.
mandy finished her drink and ordered another i made this one a bit stronger to increase my odds. everclear's song "you make me feel like a whore" came over the PA, "oooh " mandy purred/slurred "i love this song" before i could agree she had stood up and began dancing for me. she was so sexy and she added a lot of effort to be extra sexy, being a little bit dirtier than the club usually allows . she straddled me ,her back to my chest took two of my fingers, placing them in her nether region and mark interrupted us with a "that's a little too far , time for bed kids."in a fatherly tone. even at play mark was on top of his club . as she leaned into me i whispered i want to lick your stump,peggy" what was that? she asked i detected a little anger in her tone i changed it to , "i want to lick your wet ..." she smiled at me as she stood up to put on her thong , with her glorious ass in my face ,i couldn't resist..."y'all take credit cards right?" before she could say yes i ran my card down the crack of her butt as if it were a credit card machine, my boys erupted with laughter. mandy turned and slapped me across the face, hard , with a smile on hers, there's your receipt asshole. this was followed by the whole table laughing, especially the girls she pulled on her thong and walked away smiling at me in the mirror, and made her way back to mr. chaing's table. round one went to pipi one-stocking.
about an hour later mandy appeared next to me in her street clothes,she picked up my car keys and asked me if i needed someone to drive me home .absolutely, i said my good bye's quickly and followed her out the door. she drove me to her place, she shared an apartment with her boyfriend jason , who was tending bar at treasure island, a place on sixth street in down town austin ,and he "wouldn't be home til seven or eight." jason drove this super hot mustang , it was one of the fastest cars in the city . i had driven it once and had got it up to 70 in second gear. when we got in the door, i had barely shut it before she was on me like a boa constrictor. she was quite strong for a girl and was solid as a rock clothes went this way and that and we collapsed together on the bed completely naked . after having sex a couple of times she fell asleep, the ultimate compliment. i pulled the sheets off of her and examined her gorgeous body in all of its glorious nakedness . i practically broke my arm slapping myself on the back and wore the silly grin of a teenager who had just got laid for the second or third time. i examined the trail of clothes strewn about,it looked as if a drunken monkey had gotten into the hamper. then in the doorway to the bedroom i caught sight of the prosthetic leg , still in its cowgirl boot standing up in the bedroom doorway . it looked so funny sitting there , so abandoned . i started laughing to myself ,which made me laugh more because i knew that i sounded like a lunatic laughing to myself all alone with this hot one-legged stripper chic lying next to me. a distant rumble made me stop laughing quickly ,mandy shot straight up from a dead sleep."ohmyjason god'shome!quick get your shit " i ran around the house looking for my clothes which were thrown all over leading a drunken path to the door. jason's car pulled up out front, there was no way i could go out the front door without being seen .i ran to the balcony, i was three floors up! fuck what do i do? i threw my clothes to the ground and climbed over the rail and shimmied down to the bottom of the barrier and i swung back and forth to get momentum and dropped with a loud thud to the second balcony. i looked in and a frightened older mexican woman looked at me and screamed." no por favor i yelled pointing at her front door . then i pointed upstairs "espouso es aqui, en la casa! en la casa. "ahhh " she smiled and laughed. she opened the door and tsked tsked me "ay sancho" she said. sancho is the mexican slang word for the man who is sleeping with the wife. she handed me a towel and i peaked outside just as jason slammed his front door closed. as i ran to get my clothes a bunch of people clapped and whistled and commented on my daring escape. i picked up my things bowed and ran for my car and sped out of there as if the devil himself were behind me. as i got some space between me and the house , i flashed back on the boot and giggled like a maniac fresh off of his first kill.
i didn't see mandy for a couple of weeks. when i finally saw her , as she pulled in to the lot i approached the car, "hey where ya been?" a pair of boxers flew out of the car window and hit me in the face. "you left your fucking underwear in my bedroom asshole! jason took my foot and hid it! i had to order another one and they aren't cheap!" the idea of her walking around on her prosthetic limb without a foot made me laugh. "its not funny,you fucker", she whined/teased, smiling. i parked her car and carried her bags into the clubs dressing room. as i set them down and said "have a good night" and walked back outside to continue doing the best job i ever had.

First day on the blog
Hey all,
This is my first attempt at this blog thing,and i am quite computer illiterate.I wanted to find a way to get people reading my writing,and to get feedback on it as well,whatever it may be.I have around fifty poems published on poets.com under the pen name suisidle,but i am growing tired of the snobbery on the site.The space bar on my keyboard sucks and sometimes i really have to pound on it,so i apologize in advance for any run on words.
I live in ithaca ,ny.A small town upstate an hour south of syracuse.ithaca has been named the "most enlightened city in the US" whatever the hell that means.the town is run by a bunch of stupid hippies and gays and lesbians aren't harrassed here,so i guess that is how we got our "title" . Cornell University and Ithaca College are based here and it brings a new influx of bad drivers and drunken jocks every year and our high school seniors flee the area hoping never to return,and i don't blame them.
It is said that ithaca runs a top one of those magnetic vortex fields where phenominal stuff is said to happen,but i think it is just a freak magnet,because they(the freaks) flock here in droves.i have no idea what i want to do with this thing but i figured it will be something to cure the boredom and to get me writing.
I don't capitalize out of laziness and i figured if e.e.cummings can get away with it than so can i.my punctuation is dreadful,but who really needs it anyway?i have been a heroin addict on and off,for the last ten years or so,and i have some pretty interesting stories to tell.
last year,on sept.8,the nys police kicked in my door,as a result of partying with a friend that ended up dying.now i am a member of ithaca city's treatment court and must toe the line for the next three years.they test my urine three times a week,so it is pretty much impossible to get high,and i don't drink so i guess i will be using this as an escape for the time being.
So any way i will be doing this as often as i can and i will tell an epic tale or two,and i must admit some my poetry is pretty good.i write music so some of them are songs but they still read pretty well.also i will not always write straight forward like this,some of it will be more of a rant,orjust an excercise at being a whacko.feel free to tell me how much you think i suck,because there isn't enough honesty in the world anymore.thanks for reading,and have a great day!