riding into oblivion

"riding into oblivion"

love lines in my palm remind me that my

future is

clouded. each scar is a storm.

my hands are merely instruments of the

weather.

we're not finished speaking out. we're taking back

our glory days. when all of the sleepers drift

away, i will let my tongue roll into verbatim.

clouds and mouths agape. eyes paving the way

to charcoal black roads and

midwestern sunsets.

plotting all along

"plotting all along"

all of the extension cords lead straight into

a golden chest. a conduit.

it opens

wide and speaks through the ages. it does

not tire. right foot forward he stumbles to

his feet and lands on the floor face down

gasping for air. neon purple and gold accent

the curling body. golden teeth cringe, sludge drips

from the eyes. there is perpetual sadness in the

sight of a machine. happy birthday.

album suggestions

albums to check out, for anyone searching for music:

frightened rabbit - the midnight organ fight (scottish folk)

placebo - battle for the sun (british alternative[?])

wayfarer - what we've become (Against Me! styled acoustic)

the summer we went west - following the holy moon goddess (dreary tunes)

jesu - why are we not perfect? (atmospheric ambient sludge)

those flow into and out of my playlist. Placebo is a long time favorite band, Frightened Rabbit i've recently discovered and highly recommend.

n/a

Knocked Up is playing behind me.

I'm anticipating Judd Apatow's newest film this weekend, Funny People, mostly because any film he directs somehow makes me view life in a lighter, happier way.

As it stands, I'm going crazy. Anxious about stupid things lately. I'll end up over in it a few days.

I might slow down on writing a little bit lately. Fort Towson was redone if you (readers, if I have any) noticed. Painting will probably be more of a focus but then again, I say these things today and tomorrow I could have a completely different attitude.

I'm just awkwardly ranting at this point, ouch.

fort towson, oklahoma

"fort towson, oklahoma"

breathing slower when the horizon was

painted in silence. that opal hue on the sky,

that whiskey courage. some men just cry

all

night

when it rains.

vultures flew above head in heart shaped

patterns. waiting for us to tear each other

into pieces. except men are

nothing more than antique paintings.

meaning

"meaning"

dolls are reminders of exquisite

concubines. red cheeks and porcelain skin. she

used to move across the room and ignite

herself. carefully,

as the embers cooled he would store the

ash in jars.

they remain sealed.

time gives him little hope of

a better past time.

n/a

people are asking for paintings, i am excited.

if this is a possible means to get my art out there in large amounts and have people ask about it, then i am very much happy to paint for anyone.

if YOU (the reader) might somehow be interested in a painting then you can message me on facebook (facebook.com/joshzoerner) and drop some specifics or if you don't care then that is quite alright as well. let me know a size as well and i will work to this specification. /end personal advertisement.

as far as writing goes, i am mulling over some ideas for poems in my head, also considering possible notions of publishing in the future (though, each time i think of this it seems incredibly arrogant to assume i could get published). later in the week another State poem should be done...i've had a few towns in mind for a while now.

...

before i go, some albums to look into:

j.tillman - cancer and delirium or year in the kingdom ---> dark southern acoustic tunes

frightened rabbit - daytrotter sessions ---> dreary acoustic tunes

narrows - s/t EP and new distances ---> botch's vocalist's new project, brooding hardcore

walter fitzsimmons - the sparrow and the crow ---> dreary folk/acoustic tunes

fall of efrafa - inle ---> atmospheric post rock, removed crust influences from this CD

extinguishing

"extinguishing"

sounds are getting louder. i must've looked

out of my bedroom window one

thousand times. i've heard noises in the

yard. perhaps it is

the lamb of god. a representation of

what i have been lacking for all of my years.

hands close the curtains without second

thought. dust in the room migrates toward

my eyes, nose, and mouth. laying contorted i

manage to lose myself in weightlessness.

wordless submission

represents the man on the bed.

______

just some experimentation. wrote on a whim, perhaps edited tomorrow, perhaps not. i suppose we shall see.

n/a

oddly enough, I have noticed the slightly growth in "n/a" blogs. I guess I should clarify that they are merely thoughts that cross my mind from day to day, or that have been sitting and brewing for a while.

sorry if they ever happen to offend, drive you away from me, or piss you off on a good day. most, I am assuming, are/were never meant for that.

...

"how cold can a heart become

before it crumbles or

decides to stay numb?"

-chuck ragan

box elder, montana

"box elder, montana"

children hung on fences of

antique wooden homes. tender

palms resting in another. trains rolled past.

crows flew over head, there

was wind from the south. foundations

shift when the weight snaps.

men lay sprawled across the soil, imitating

stringless marionettes in toy stores. burning timber

hid itself in noses of water carriers.

iron cast itself across the land, directing itself

in discordant inertia.

now the conductor clears his throat of smoke,

mountain peaks become his oratory walls.

n/a

if you do not own a copy/have not downloaded Defeater's CD "Travels" you are missing out on some great music. hardcore with a story and interesting musicianship, also a brief acoustic bit from the (no longer a) band Verse's singer. first CD and it's marvelous.

tellico plains, tennessee

"tellico plains, tennessee"

at the junction i

could hear whispering voices.

there is no time for you

and i.

hands and fingers tied together like a

timber hitch. we could never hold this

burden. gentle eyes flicker like silver in the

morning light. amber mixed in

warm cream. those same hands found you

in the moss and stone, bleeding.

grey highlands are timid when

they stretch their arms.

crows held my shoulders when i cried in the

shadows of pine. days pass and weeks pass. it

does

nothing.

after a slow walk to the chapel

stairs. there is judgement that could

set me free.

i say little

more than simple words.

necklaces

collaborative poem by vince bauters and josh zoerner

"necklace"

cold shoulders and hungry eyes, i

fit you back in recklessly, but i am

relentless.

i speak when spoken to.

you describe yourself as an animal

with spots on its skin, and i am

less impressed than i was hours ago.

these notions of

pursuit

give white

knuckle fever.

if i were to cleanse myself in

dark water the jaws of my mouth

would remain clenched, held still

i am a colorless moon setting.

fireplace

collaborative piece from vince bauters and josh zoerner

"fireplace"

i was sleeping in trying

to hide. it was

the only time

i was mismanaging

clinging to the sheet and

October light. Michigan rain held in the

screen and no appetite for

apples.

i could sit outside in the fog, watch

swans, but you would tell me to

come inside.

give a steady, white hand to the

child playing man near the river. and bring

us all into the same room

where dim lights reveal a

silent understanding of creating

one's swan song.

kids

"kids"

they see you in fields,

in the rotten leaves.

i watch you sink in.

...

just a little haiku, something full length soon. keep

your eyes

open.

n/a

new poetry "theme" being explored: small towns, their feel, and secrets.

little late to mention that, it seems.

...

i have so much to say, to everyone.

silver plume, colorado

"silver plume, colorado"

a glass on the oak table is filled

with dry whiskey. i move like a ghost

through this house, through these

walls.

i could've loved you.

if we could see ourselves in the blowing

dust, would our cheeks become rosy?

miners clutch shovels and

hammers. we have given so much,

so much blood, we should be kings.

from the doorway,

i heard you whisper

words

into the corners of the room.

i told you, "this will be the year that

kills us all."

bedford, pennsylvania

"bedford, pennsylvania"

the chipping sparrow are stirring; the snow geese

feel the water rise against their feet. Autumn

spends her time running from

December.

townsfolk are keeping the secrets of

their mothers and father. shame, and a

desperate feeling to fall asleep.

grandad's bones keeping creaking. he tells me

we deserve this. i am not worried,

the winter will pass and my hunger will

follow.

alias

"alias"

my mouth is open for all to

walk in and then stumble

right out. were you searching for

clarity?

this is like walking into your closet

finding that the skeletons have

started talking.

the darkness under my eyes

grows. my ship is sinking, i am

buried in the world, in the secrets,

and the earth.

i wake up each day and hear the bones

chattering, "excite me, we don't need connection

at all."