Announcements:
days left in Germany!
29April00: click here to view Jazzy's pimpin' car editorial.
06March00: The Third Element, a novel I'm working on, is added.
26Feb00: Poetry page is back!!
26Feb00: Ireland page created.
friend,
Welcome to the Coffeehouse. There are some
changes that will be coming soon. Coming possibly in
June will be the jazzcam. I also have a few new pics
to put up. However, these are minor things. The
changes I mean to make are in the text of the page.
I feel that my personality doesn't really come across
so a lot of the text is going to be changing. It'll be a
treat, trust me.
~Curtis
Lost Horizons (For Charles Baudelaire) With this singular concept we whisper sleep. It is so simple to travel forward Like the train on its track when there Is nowhere else to travel. Where can we go— Shall we turn east to the rising sun Or west to the New Land? Do we ride the waves or wind? The only voyage is forward And free—our horizons are ours to choose. Turn the wide sails into the wind And set course into the unknown. Look yon! Land can be seen To the southeast: the isle of Circe Draws all into her salty embrace And woos us with her wanton pleasures promised. Lift anchor and sail and discover— The wind whispers, “Adventure,” today, We see land and yearn for whiskey and women On the solemn day (perhaps the Ides) When the sandbars are uncovered. Break bread and toast to nothing; Clasp palms and pray of nothing— Who would answer from the cancerous seas Other than crusty old Poseidon? Our crew sings softly with sand in their mouths In remembrance of the lands left behind. Their wrinkled man-bodies strain In remembrance of maiden flesh from years ago. Turn softly into the Sea and whisper of Michelangelo Long after we have set sail with The oceans still vast underneath us: We still have horizons to find. With eyes livid in death we are watched As we flee the setting sun for more hospitable lands— Forget the placid seas and ride the raging waves And whisper with the shrieking wind, “be at peace.” Open your mouth and speak sleep; Close your eyes and think sleep. Drop anchor and take down the sails For finally, the voyage is ended: We’ve found port, we’re home. ~Curtis Kerns 27Feb00 (1st Draft)
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