I don't want to eat my fuckin' vegetables

Man, I tell you, I need to practice and I really don't want to. I don't want to do anything that I should do. I don't want to practice or play guitar or write or exercise. I don't want to eat my fuckin' vegetables, man. (laughs)

So, farmboy, what do you want to do.

Um...I wanna mess around on the internet and eat macaroni and cheese and smoke weed and go to bed listening to some really great music. I want to drink diet Pepsi and stay up really late. 

But?

But I need to practice.

And that's what I'm gonna do.

Good.

I know, man.

frozen

I am frozen
beneath a sheet of ice
as big
as the landmass of Greenland
each time I float up
something pushes me down 
with great force
and I succumb
scarred and battered

still I try again

Seeds for songs (RIP Lou Reed)

What're you up to, man?

Not much, but I'm not complaining. How about you, farmboy?

Been writing like a motherfucker, man. I'm mainly looking for stuff I can work with, the raw material. Seeds for songs. So it's been a good past few days for writing.

In the meantime, fuckin' death, man. Lou Reed died. I'm ignoring all the coverage of it, it just makes me too sad. I guess maybe I never thought of Lou Reed as old, you know? 

He was pretty important in the history of rock 'n roll music.

Yeah, amazingly important. A real innovator, he was. As a singer as well as a writer.

He had his own sound, that's for sure.

He sure did, man.

sneakers hanging, take two

let me tell you 
how to get here
the sun has broken
and the roads are clear
take a turn
at the end of Main
don't matter which
they're both the same

old sneakers hanging
from a telephone wire
old flat bed truck
with a flat rear tire
here's currently
the place I stay
and it's from here
I'll run away

          don't try to tell me
          I won't listen
          don't try to teach me
          I won't learn
          look for me
          in the rear view mirror
          and know i will never return
          know I will never return

small towns have
long memories
and it's a long, long trail
in front of me
but I will not
be taken by
another broken alibi

I like the rhythm
of your hips
the grasping of
your fingertips
your silhouetted
curve and sway
almost enough
to choose to stay


          don't try to tell me
          I won't listen
          don't try to teach me
          I won't learn
          look for me
          in the rear view mirror
          and know i will never return
          know I will never return


old sneakers hanging
from a telephone wire
the memory
of a Sunday choir
the cemetery's 
cold gray stone
the resting place
I know as home


          don't try to tell me
          I won't listen
          don't try to teach me
          I won't learn
          look for me
          in the rear view mirror
          and know i will never return
          know I will never return

static on the airwaves

there's whiskey in her words
there's moonlight on her skin
there's a young man waiting
for his real life to begin
there's dreams that must be broken
to find the ones that live
there's too much good out there
for me not to forgive
it's a all day all night station
my inner radio
but now there's static on the airwaves
and my dial's lost control

I got my pretty darlin'
she's sitting on my knee
she's making me feel sinful
in these forsaken farmer jeans
she's got a touch like springtime
after the final winter snow
and lately I've been feeling
about twenty-three below
it's an all day all night station
my inner phonograph
but now there's static on the airwaves
and I just have to laugh

the stars, they shine like diamonds
in this dusty desert town
in this lot outside of Denny's
with nobody else around
a northern chill is coming
and the summer's at an end
with no guarantee that it
will ever come again 
it's an all day all night station
is your headset on?
there's static on the airwaves
and it's darkest before dawn

I enter polls

I enter polls
I am both judge and jury
about things I don't understand
I enter polls
I have my opinions
and a computer
at my hands
I vote on stuff I can't afford
I vote on the Academy Awards
the one place I will not be ignored
where I have control

I enter polls
where someone might care
about the words I say
Oh, heaven knows
I'm only transparent
anywhere else today
the place where I can be myself
and feel fulfilled and whole
is where no one knows me
I enter polls

It's the fuckin' best, man

I've had a good day. I thought you should know.

Great, farmboy! I'm glad. I know that life has been a little rough these past few months. What happened?

Well, my birthday's tomorrow and my coworkers did some really nice stuff for me. I even got presents, and the best kind: gift cards for stores where I can buy groceries. This is really thrilling for me. I've had to watch every cent for so long that it feels luxurious.

Also, I'm gonna leave in a half-hour to pick up some weed...

And I know that makes you happy.

It's the fuckin' best, man. Plus I'm taking a personal day on Monday, so it's a three-day weekend!

Enjoy it, farmboy.

You know I will, man. 

What are you going to do for your birthday?

My brother and his wife and daughter are taking me out for supper. We're going to go to this burger place that's supposed to be really great. And then -- this is not related to my birthday -- I'm going out Sunday night to see my friends from the coffeehouse. We have a songwriter group, so that means I get to practice a new song for them.

Very good, farmboy.

I'm thankful, man. I'm grateful. I'm kinda humbled and speechless, in a way.

A good way, I hope.

It sure is.

my anxiety

the mind's chemicals
reflexes overreact:
my anxiety

it will not rule me
I tell myself frequently
no need to panic

but still it happens
in the blink of an instant
like a falling star

taking whatever
light I have in front of me
crashing into night

From the inside out

I am so fuckin' angry all the fuckin' time now. Fuck this life. 

What's wrong, farmboy?

I can't catch a fuckin' break and my anger is fuckin' eating me alive, from the inside out. I can't do this any more.

Whoa, farmboy...

Whoa yourself. Don't fuckin' condescend to me, man.

I just want to help.

Find a way to let the fuckin' world turn my way, for once. That'll help. 

Everything builds up and builds up and there ain't no relief. Well, fuck this shit. Give me drugs, get me a way out of here. I've fuckin' had enough, man.

A fuckin' broken record

I'm not doing well, man...again. It's, like, a fuckin' broken record or something. Fuck, man, I just don't know. I need to get help from somewhere, see another counselor or something. This ain't good. I'm depressed and angry and living in, in...it's kinda poverty, you know?

I'm thinking about suicide more and more lately...not that I'd ever do it, because I fuckin' wouldn't -- I really want that to be clear, that I won't kill myself -- but this thinking about it this much isn't healthy. It's become my default setting, and that can't be good.

Thanks for listening, man. You're a good guy.

stronger than before

I don't want to be afraid any longer
I don't want to live like this anymore
I need my heart to be stronger
than before
I don't want to hesitate forever
in a world I cannot comprehend
for all I know I may not ever
see your face again

working for the devil

I am working for the devil
'cause I need to make a living
in a selfish world that's giving me hell
'cause it's needed for surviving
this ain't no shuck and jiving
I'll tell
you it's no big deal
but I know what's real
and what's real
is that I got to have the job

almost midnight

almost midnight
the deadline approaches
will the carriage turn into a pumpkin?
all you can do, 
really, 
is just wait and see

sneakers hanging from a telephone wire

sneakers hanging from a telephone wire
child rejected by the grade school choir
I will do whatever is required
to speak in my own voice
there is no other choice
but to survive
I'm alive
like it or not

leave me alone

leave me alone
let me live with my own mistakes
you'll never know
the decisions that I have to make
you know, life is kinda rough
when your best 
is never good enough
go on home
leave me alone

frustration haiku

it's been a long time
since I've had something to say
that I needed to say

I am not supposed to use clichés

Damn, man, the night goes by so fuckin' fast. It just ain't fair. Work just crawls on by, but my free time just flies. To use a cliché, that is.

Such is life, farmboy. To use another cliché. 

I'm a writer, man, a songwriter. I am not supposed to use clichés, unless it's for a particular purpose. I need to be suspicious of sentimentality. Look at this: time just flies. Fuck, man, what's wrong with me? Is this stuff so fuckin' ingrained that I can't help but use it? And what is "stuff" anyway? Is "stuff" an "it" or a "them"? Why is this stuff so hard? Why am I so fuckin' stupid anyway?

Calm down, farmboy! You're making a much bigger deal over this than you should.

I'm just joking, man! You know, humor. Funny ha-ha, you know?

Oh. Well, in that case, say whatever you want.

That's what I'm gonna do, man. As if my life depended on it. If it's the last thing I do. Lord willin' and the creek don't rise. If the...

farmboy?

Yeah?

Stop. Please.

Okay.

Sheesh.

I just am

I got nothing new to report, man. I'm neither depressed or happy, I just am. And that's okay, I guess. (laughs)  It's pretty fuckin' boring, but it's okay.

It's kinda a nice change of pace, you know? Not in a panic, not deliriously up-and-at-'em either.

Is it always two extremes, farmboy? You're speaking in terms of "happy" or "depressed." Maybe this is an in-between point.

Maybe. It really is okay, though. I can accept this, for right now.

one big soup

I have
seen too many movies
read too many books
been a part of one big soup
with way too many cooks
I hope it's not too much to ask
but I sure would like to see
my own life
in front of me

so someone send me an e-mail
somebody call my cell
tell me when I need to
pay attention to myself
wake me up and take me
from my current fantasy
for my own life
in front of me

mister forever on the run

remember when you used to go outside
back when you would backpack
with the switchbacks and the trails
now you deadbolt the windows and hide
with too many fuckin' memories
and a stubborn need to fail

it's too bad
what a waste
you've known joy
you've had a taste
it's a fuckin' disgrace
what you've become
mister forever on the run

What I learned yesterday

Hey, man. Let me tell you what I learned yesterday. 

I learned that I go into instant panic at problems that panic won't help. It's like something happens physically. Is that the right word? You know, adrenaline and hormones and that kind of shit.

I think that's what actually happens when you go into panic mode, farmboy. You're definitely feeling it physically.

It's so fuckin' weird, man. It's like I get kinda possessed and I'm not myself and I have no control and I fuckin' hate that, man.

Well, you're aware of it and that's the first step. Now pay attention when it happens again and get if it's something that's identifiable and predictable.

Like taking data, in a way.

In a way, yes, farmboy.

Cool. I can do that. I do stuff like that at work all the time. I can do that. No problem, man.

all I can do

all I can do
is all I can do
and all is never
good enough

head on home to you, rewrite two

long day
long night
nothing seems
to work out right
I wish I may
I wish I might
head on home to you

without your love
what can I be
but a broken sailor
in a broken sea
all I want, babe
all I need
is to head on home to you

          when the world is angry
          looking to cause me harm
          I only need the shelter
          of your arms

stubborn silence
empty words
love unspoken
and unheard
all I need, babe
to be cured
is to head on home to you

          when the world is angry
          in business with the blues
          I know which direction
          to choose

long night
long days
everything 
is not okay
trouble
get out of my way
I'm heading home to you
there's no more words
for me to say
I'm heading home to you

I'm fuckin' desperate, man

Man, it's bad news again. Bad financial news. Is there any other kind of financial news? Anyway, I've been fuckin' frantic over this stuff and well...I just don't fuckin' know, man. This shit won't give me a fuckin' break. 

I know you won't believe this right now, farmboy, but it'll be okay. You'll be okay.

It's too much, man, it's all too fuckin' hard. I need help. I need help now and I don't know what   I'm gonna do. I'm fuckin' desperate, man.

Take some deep breaths, farmboy. Panicking doesn't help. Just relax and be calm. You'll be all right, I promise you.

I want to calm down, man, but I don't know if it's possible.

Try.

I'm gonna have to, won't I? I don't know. I don't know if sleep is possible. I don't know what I'm gonna do. I don't know what I'm gonna do. I don't know who to turn to. I just don't fuckin' have a clue, man. I owe some money and got a shitload of bad news today and I'm fuckin' frantic.

I can't do this by myself, man. I need help and I need it now.

head on home, rewrite one

long day
long night
nothing seems
to turn out right
I wish I may
I wish I might
head on home to you

without your love
what can I be
but a broken sailor
lost at sea
all I want, babe
all I need
is to head on home to you

          when the world is angry
          looking to cause me harm
          I only need the shelter
          of your arms

busted promises
empty words
love unspoken
and unheard
what I'm needing
to be cured
is to head on home to you

          when the world is angry
          in business with the blues
          I just need a love
          that is true

long night
long days
everything 
is not okay
I need to
be on my way
heading home to you

head on home to you

long day
long night
nothing seems
to turn out right
I wish I may
I wish I might
head on home to you

without your love
what can I be
but a broken boat
lost at sea
all I want, babe
all I need
is to head on home to you

ain't nothing the spirit can't do

ain't nothing the spirit can't do
ain't nothing the spirit can't do
ain't nothing the spirit can't do
'cept be the spirit inside of you, uh huh...

ain't nothing the spirit can't say
ain't nothing the spirit can't say
ain't nothing the spirit can't say
'cept let your heart have the right-of-way, uh huh...

ain't nothing that the spirit can't know
ain't nothing that the spirit can't know
ain't nothing that the spirit can't know
higher than the sky above
lower that the earth below, uh huh

ain't nothing the spirit can't do
ain't nothing the spirit can't do
ain't nothing the spirit can't do
'cept be the spirit inside of you, uh huh...

chorus or bridge

my Savior, grant me mercy
sweet Jesus, hear my cry
this is how I live my life
this is how I'll die

Nothing feels as great as doing it after a long time of not doing it

So I bought some weed from a friend from the coffeehouse today, and it feels great. Nothing feels as great as doing it after a long time of not doing it, you know? Plus I've been so fuckin' stressed and worried and it's been just great, man. 

Good for you, farmboy. Congratulations. You've earned it.

How have I earned it?

You made it through a difficult week after a difficult month after a difficult summer. There's a lot of tension and frustration in your life. That's not easy on you, mentally or physically.

Fuckin' tell me about it, man.

But right now you're feeling pretty good, right?

I am. Feeling good seems to be so rare these days. It's nice to know what it feels like.

You know, it's really too fuckin' bad that weed is still illegal. I mean, you go to the doctor and he'll prescribe you addicting stuff like Lorazepam, no fuckin' problem. Unless, of course, you have my doctor, who won't prescribe me stuff like that.

But, anyway, it's so fuckin' nice to have a night like this. I'll play guitar, I'll read. Maybe I'll watch a movie on Netflix, I don't know. But, whatever, it'll be just fine.

this is self-pity

I worked hard all week
I deserve marijuana
but I don't have it

instead I am bored
also tired and depressed
sad and discouraged

just another day
just one more disappointment
like the day before

this is self-pity
I know it's not good for me
but that's how I feel

I am sorry

Compassion helps

I don't know what I'm gonna do, man. It's the fuckin' money problems again. I'm trying not to worry but I can't fuckin' help it. I'm tired and I'm depressed and there's no weed and I hate my fuckin' life. 

I'm sorry about everything, farmboy.

Thanks, man. It helps. Compassion helps. Unfortunately, compassion is in short supply these days.

this is how I live my life

this is how I live my life
this is what I do
I get up every morning
and I work the whole day through
facing my existence
in a job that I despise
this is how I live my life
this is how I'll die

I have made many mistakes
but the biggest one of all
was learning how to walk
before I could fall
back when the world was young
back when I could still cry
this is how I live my life
this is how I'll die

Tired of being conscious

Not much to say, man. It's the same old stuff. I'm out of weed, I hate my job, I'm tired, I'm having money problems, life fuckin' sucks. Blah blah fuckin' blah. What I need is to sleep. I'm tired of being conscious.

I understand, farmboy. Why don't you just do what's needed and then go to bed and start fresh in the morning.

I can do that?

You tell me.

That's what I'm doing. Have a good night, man.