Archive for November, 2012

How do I smoke thee, let me count the ways

November 30th 2012

how do i smoke thee?

how do I smoke thee?
let me count the ways
i roll thee in parchment and spark you up
within lung’s reach and the feeling’s out of sight
I smoke thee freely, never passing to the right
i love thee purely in the night
I love thee with a passion that i put to use
in my head, and with my trusty torch
I smoke thee with a love i never seem to lose
with all lost saints – i love thee with my breaths
all Smiles and laughs- and if God choose
I’ll smoke thee til my day of Death

This rather rough poem is my latest with apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning.I also off you an audio reading of my poem:

children of the GMO

Mothing else for this evez but gratefulness for another Blessed day!

May Gumbytron Bless You and Yours




children of the GMO


children of the GMO

while there are yet gods
walking the earth among us
can we taste the preservative kiss
as we walk the fields of GMO

eating the flesh of humans
directly from their bones
and dance beneath penumbral moons
while switchblades play in the sandpits

let us exhaust ourselves on each other’s shores
’til dawn bids us to sleep in lullaby bunkers
and dream in the centrifuge of audacity
the audacity against creation that we’ve become

come drink
from fetid stinking springs
that now smell like rosewater
let us dance in pools of toxicity
and fester with the best of them

there will be no time allotted
for regrets, of things undone

there will be no tears allotted
for the blotting of the Sun

we will melt together in the primordial oozes
and dumb
returned to sender
never to be opened

something about nothing at all


27 November 2012

Been all over Gumbytron’s Cremation today, and I must say, a fine day it was.  Woke up groggy around noon and had my day’s first cigarette.  Bugler.  Trying to quit the nicotine scene but those darn drones they keep flying 24/7 keep chemtrailing me with subliminal tobacco advertisements.

My sis need me to run and take her kids to their practices so I did that and headed to Downer Town to take a book to an old friend.  It was a copy of the Illuminatus Trilogy by Robert Shea and Robert Anton Wilson.  I had to read it twice to get the story but definitely want to read it again.

Finished reading my reader’s copy of Bent: Atypical Girl by Teri Louise Kelly and absolutely loved it.  Forgot to mention that.

Anyway I went to Downer Town to visit an old friend and we went out to dinner at El Campesino’s and the place was empty on a Tuesday night.   Got to have some decent Mexican food and some conversation other than the Buckeyes beating the Wolverines.  Actually we talked some deep shit.  Theosophy, Chopra, the cellular hypertorus I was down loaded with,  the prophetic dreams she would have.  You know, usual wizard stuff.

I like wizards.

After that I stopped at my surrogate father unit’s little shack near Huckabuck to have a couple shots of Evan Williams and smoke a hooter.  He’s not all plugged in, which I like, and he told me some good drinking stories.  He usually does…  I reminded him that he was Cronos which he seems to forget when he’s been drinking.

Drive the 22 miles home thinking about the shape of reality I want to see and how it all seems to be happening around me.  The moon is full and we are supposed to have a penumbral eclipse but I’ve gone out several times for a cigarette and still haven’t seen the eclipse.  Gonna go out have one more smoke and look.

No filter needed

no filter needed
tap that main line
and let your mind melt to pieces on the floor

phasing out
it’s not extinction
just nature’s way of telling you to move along

neurotramsitters will tell you this
god chemicals

look at the dandelion
a weed, yes?
golden crowns across the lawns proclaiming:


and damn your broad-spectrum herbicides
we got airborne seed

what does a dandelion think
when it sends its ‘chutes into the air?
little promises

phasing out

words like these cast like seeds
to be blown in the wind
in hope

in hope


‘Consume Mass Quantities”

“Consume mass quantities”

you’ll never fill that gaping hole
inside your soul
with stuff
no matter how hard you try

if you can buy someone’s love
with shiny things,
what will happen to that love
when the luster fades?

more shiny things?
that lie in piles unappreciated?
because you have given too much stuff?
because you raised expectations once again?

where does it end?
buying things you don’t need
with money you don’t have
to prove you are a good consumer

you should have that written on your epitaph:
“here lies a good consumer.”

i’m not saying you shouldn’t give,
but give your most precious gifts to those you love,

build some memories that don’t involve wrapping paper…

give those the Lord has entrusted to your care
the lessons they will need to face the future

give them the tools to think for themselves
and not the pap fed to us by the commercial media

life is not about the stuff you accumulate
and Mother Earth is already stretched to her limits
swiping that card one more time adds to her misery
and adds to your misery in the long run

but this is the way things are, you may say,
if i don’t buy that technobauble for my child
she won’t fit in, she’ll feel inferior

is this what you wamt your children to believe?
that what you have defines who and what you are?

you may believe your value lies in these things
but do you really want to pass
that diseased philosophy
to your children too?

greed is good
more greed is more good
can’t get enough greed

all that stuff you find so precious
can be wiped out in a single instant,
a fire, a tornado,
what will you have left of yourself
if you place your value outside yourself?

here are some lessons that will last a lifetime:

restraint, you don’t have to charge over the precipice
with all the other lemmings

value, for the blessings we receive each day
just in drawing another breath

love, for those around you
and not all those things falling out of your closets

the greatest gifts we have are the times we get to spend together
on this short ride through the galaxy
don’t let shiny things get in the way of those great gifts.


Troubles with Amazon



Tuesday, November 19, 20..12

My book “Space Christals” was published on December 21, 2011 and I still can not be found on Amazon’s search engine even though I published it with their service CreateSpace. 

When I go to type my title in,  the search takes you to listings containing “space” and “crystals” and has no direct way to find my book.  I conteacted them about this problem and they said they would get back to me and that they would be working on it. 

It worked briefly when I would type in my title, it would still say “space crystals” in the search but offer an options for “space crystals books” and take me to my book.  Now that doesn’t even work so I guess ‘ll have to call again.

Anyway, since there is no link, you can find it here:

Space Christals

I’d like to poste a reading of one of my poems, an irregular Jesus, which is from this book.

an irregular Jesus

an irregular Jesus
who likes to take vacations in the asylum
walks into Ace hardware for some glass cleaner
and gets lost

he finds himself in line with a bottle of pneumonia
when the lady in front of him has her credit declined
and walks away empty handed

he yallers, “Hey! i got a GOLD tooth.”
but she disapppears

he forgets his first miracle for a moment
and the pain in his chest nearly drops him to the floor

he laughs and waves at the security camera
remembering to wander
to the corner to clean a few windows for the Man

an irregular Jesus

Thank you for reading,



Monday Morning Mutterings…



Monday, November 19, 20.12

Somewhere near Snadragon!

May Gumbytron bless you who are reading this.  Another week has passed and I have not resumed my task on level 4 Matrix panel version 2.  As you may recall,  I had a major problem with version 1 when I installed a “superiority” complex in a chaos region of the map.  I’m gonna lay off the superiority complexes for a while.  Vers. 2 has a “pizza” mandala octagon in the center of the prime matrix.  Vegetarian.

My fears are all sleeping on beds of nails.   I’ll play loud music in the echo chamber and let it reverberate through their nightmares.  added to that is this:

no sleep, clogged neurons
and neurotransmitters going haywire
too early to start drinking
tv news drones on about politics
scandals as if

nothing else happens around me
i look out the window
nothing has changed
not even the weather

toxicity levels rise so slowly in this atmosphere
that one day it’ll all just sputter out
i’ll just sputter out

sputter out or tune out
a slow fade to paradise…
turn up the volume
don’t worry, the neighbors won’t hear it
they’re watching tv


at my level of debauchery
i was seriously thinking about cracking a bottle of wine
it’s not even nine
speaking of debauchery
Agnew reports that on the Hamster planet of Snadragon,
on Mondays,
no one was killed by space junk
an orgy ensued
only there were no paparazzi
no one died and no one fried

Sunday compressed

the hamster was not made for Sunday
ImageSunday was made for the hamster

wake up with dreams of Snadragon
fading in the noonday sun
foggy memories that haunt the waking hours

do a quick check of all systems:
body, check
vision, check
imagination, check
serenity, check

drink a glass of water
stretch, stretch, s-t-r-e-t-c-h

another day, another Sunday…
another gift from Gumbytron

so many hamsters worshipping their football
sit and worship briefly
bless the forward pass

take the hrududu to marionkind
on a sunny afternoon
hamster paws serenely holding the wheel
there’s always a wheel somewhere with hamsters

a familiar road
under November skies
the King’s taxes well spent

mad Mike is out on his bike
and Father Time is assembled in his usual spot
flipping his remote between football and murdering shows

let’s go to Pittsburgh!

and do what?

you’re right

the perpetrator
the crumbhunter
the shiteater
his hind legs aren’t always cooperating these days
and the fur on his back is sparse

he’s begun to expect a Slim Jim
so we walk to the store down the street

time for the smoky communion
pauses in the thread of conversation
considering the thoughtsicles
that crust up in the imagination

floating back to the galleon
to take my place among the galley hamsters
push button-get reward
our only motivation
push button-get ignored
our state of stasis

no response from the ethers
no pushbutton validation
string a few syllables together for no one
in particular

the point of making a point in pointlessness

sit beside the traffic
smoking a cigarette
as the breath clouds up the night
content with something
content with something


%d bloggers like this: