Future Past

We are always living in the past of an unwritten future.

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Dream

If you don't have ridiculous dreams you'll never have realistic results.

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Not Yet

Because I’m not ready

You’re not ready

It hurts

The way frustration hurts

The way sadness informs

Subterranean and dark

Did you feel good when you woke up

that you spoke up

that you vented

That you told me why

The why matters

My fingertips still trace paths

And my heart still remembers rhythm

I feel it and I felt it

hanging onto it

but just barely

the way water runs off a peach

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79 Words

He sang to her. Willingly if not lovingly. Or vice versa. She didn't cry though she could have. The tears standing at the ready. Eye muscles prepared to work from memory if not from need. If they loved each other they would stay that way forever. But forever wasn't their problem. Theirs was very much an issue of now. But neither would let the other exist there.

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75 Words

He sank into his chair like an oreo into hot pudding. He heard them laughing, crying out his name in between theirs gasps for breath. He sank lower. His eyes shut of their own unencouraged ambition and he pressed his teeth against each other as though to make diamonds. He held his breath without realizing it and then opened his eyes to the empty room. They had left, if they'd ever been there at all.

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The Battle

Half the battle is not finding the right answers, but finding the right questions.

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Creativity

Creativity for me was like a thread that hung off my sleeve for the first 25 years of my life. It was always there. Tickling me. Letting me know it was there. But it wasn't until I tugged on it that I realized I would never be able to stop.

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It Begins

I'm thickening my skin

Building my armor 

Plates of steel and iron

Coating myself against it all

Protected defended

Impenetrable

No

too much

I won't feel anything

no point

No sensation at all

So I am thickening my skin

With leathers and pelts

stronger skins than mine

Tied closely fitting snugly over me

a newer better improved me

But still yet

I won't be able to move or stretch

Bend or flex 

an immobile version of myself 

I won't even be myself

So I am thickening my skin

Though I am not quite sure how

I will think it thick

Imagine it tougher

Make it what it needs to be

What I need it to be

Want it to be 

For me to be

Who I want to be.

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rich Rich poor Rich

Though affluent with her love

I felt hollowed out and muggy

Her love around me

Rising up in me

Dense

And cloudy

Like a haunting in my chest

Like a memory with a scratch in it that won't stop skipping

The same line over and over again.

Like a mint that was made of razors

Like an orgasm made of possiblies

Like a sweetness born of acid rain

Like a smile born of apathy

Like tears made of gravel

Like sadness made of honey

Like a maybe made of definitely

Like a definitely made of never

Like the love we made together

Like the sex we never had

Like the sex we made together

Like the love we never had

Like the pot you smoked that I didn't

Like the fear I inhaled that you hadn't

Like an insecurity built in Roman times

Like a seasonal laughter's end

Like a fire carved in yesterday

Like a bitterness carved in stone

These memories are my albatross

These memories haunt me endlessly

And they won't leave me alone.

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Come to Connecticut

I’ve been invited to share my thoughts on things

Me, a master of singularity and unpurchased rings

But what I have to offer is written in sand

I’m a boy, a man, a mixture of things I don’t quite yet understand

And yet I speak louder than some, much louder than most

But I fear prostheltizing and shy just short of boast

I forget more than I remember

And I cling to my summers well past September

And if I’m self fulfilling my prophecy

Then I’ll have to take more than partial responsibility

For allowing myself to posture and plead

For the things I know I think I need

When I’m quite sure I’m already in possession of all my tools

And should relinquish my captainship on this ship of fools

And I’ll avoid giving a life lesson

Aphoristic Metaphorical pseudo musings full of cognitive indigestion

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Nuance

Nuance is what makes actors great and people interesting.

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Do

I think I've found my voice I just haven't found my song.

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Gabby Had a Bad Day

And the things we thought could harm us
And the things that brought us down
And the people that walked over us
And those things that burned our souls
They fade much like fog does
Leaving things clearer once gone

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10 New Band Names

Concentrated Irony

Elevated FUPA

Drivel difficulties

The Silent Scrunchie

Drunk and Pugless

Beard Nutrients

Wild Gesticulations

Angry Pete and the Dick Pains

Sport Kilt

Tochi's Night Out

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Revel

There is a pride we savior in wallowing in our own unique sorrow. A rhythm. A deliciousness to it that we revel in. That secretly or not so, we crave. We want to have adverse reactions to our old love songs, cautiously avoid the paths we used to trod through whatever city. We want to put distance between re-experiencing those memories and emotions. We want our heart to whither as we think about those songs. We want it to be toxic illegal awfality.

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Because I have a deadline

And its rising
Like a hot air balloon
Full of cold insecurity
An unchained melody
Sitting in a gasless car
And I'm paralyzed
paralytics
Analytic
And stuck inside myself

Like cement for blood
Like fog for breath
An unbeating heart
glued to the inside of my chest

Palpitated resurgencies
And unforgettable fears
Always rising
The fastest slowest march of madness
And a pressure on both sides of my chest

A violence of memory
And incomparable fear
Fed and starved
Watered and withheld
And all without my control
And all without control

Like a muscle that can't flex
And a tear that won't fall
A fall that won't arrive
An exhale stuck in transit

An inhallation
A kept inhallation
remaining
stuck
trapped
contained

and killing
killing without force
and leaving me nowhere
without leaving me at all

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Deception

This one is about how I seem to fit in to the rest of the crowd yet inside I really feel like I have nothing to offer. If anybody had actually seen this I might have ended up in therapy a lot sooner. Created August 10, 1999.

New York City

When you love this city the raindrops never hit the ground, and when you don't... well, it seems impossible to sidestep the puddles.

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I Dreamed a Dream

he thought the thoughts he'd always thought he'd think
and though the things he thought were quite the same as always
the way he saw it happening had changed

because he'd never really thought through his fantasy
his fantasy was a fallacy he'd never seen through to completion
he didn't know how to end it

so he'd think it through
or so he thought
but he really had only done half the journey

but when he finally thought his way
all the way through
he found himself thinking something he could never have anticipated

he wasn't interested in the fantasy anymore

because of lazy incompletion or self abbreviating deletion
lies he told to himself or imposed upon the universe
the ending was nothing like the beginning

and while he thought he still liked those thoughts
really
now that he had completed them
they left him feeling quite incomplete
and he couldn't compete with the overwhelming sense of emptiness he felt

now that his fantasy was through

And On and On

I've given up on the rest of my life
I've figured out I just can't do it
It's too much to think about
Too much to worry
It puts my mind in a constant state of hurry
And that's no way to live
In fact
Its a good way to die
And nobody should be thinking about a good way to die
Unless they're about to

I've given up on the the rest of my life
Because its making my insides hurt
Thinking too much about the future
Is like thinking about too much about the past
It makes you miss the present
So if I worried about the rest of my life
For the rest of my life
I'd have no life left to live
I would only worry about a good way to die
Because I'd be there

I've given up worrying about the rest of my life
Because it hasn't gotten me anywhere

-RTB

Information

It's easier to be afraid than informed.

- RTB

Stutter Start

I'm timing my haircuts
Around breakups
Self inflicted
Emotional Hiccups

Be it a fuckup
A loved one
Be it my fault
What I've done
I'm starting myself a new
The only way I know how to

A visceral emotional purging
Or just a painful manifestation
A latent insecurity surging
An emptying of mind and feeling
Hitting my maturation ceiling

I''ll change my look
I'll change how I see
I'll change so hard
I'll barely be me
I'll work on the edifice
What's easier to do
Easier than getting past, over, or beyond
You

Lost weight
Faux swagger
An ignored fragility
I'll keep moving faster
Pretending I have something to offer
Not an emotional pauper
Not a shell of a self impressed former self
Pursuing the illusion of fine over health

And ignored pain
And skipped over tears
Circumnavigated discomfort
As I've done for years

I'll busy myself
With things that don't matter
Treating myself
As moldable matter
That's lacking a center
That's lacking a core
A soulless self center
That will always need more

Just furthering along a me
That I no longer need to be

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Quality

Its not that I need more time to write quality. I need more time to write all the drivel that comes out of me so that I can get to the quality.

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Demix the Remix

They say its been
Remixed
and
Reimagined
But is it really
Or is it just
De-imagined
Unimagined
A village of ideas
Just
Feeling Famine

They say its original
Or
Unbelieve-a-ble
But I don't
Believe that bull

Because what I see
Just
Doesn't seem new
You,
Redo
Renew
I'm tired
Aren't you?

What is wrong
With an original piece of content
We're a whole continent
Without consequence
And this lack of new content
Makes me incontinent

And if you want to
Create then
Create for me
But you've got to think more
Creatively
And if that doesn't make sense then
You can't see
But when you do the same shit so
Lazily
There's no reason for your
Work to be
And if its parody
Or you just parrot me
Or you've ironed on irony
On a pair of tees
And you call that new
Well then your the tease
But don't tear us down
With your snark and sleaze

And I am not saying its wrong to
Recreate
And I'm not up here
To bitch and hate
Give me a mashup
A mixtape
I'll take what your giving
Just make it
First rate

And if recreate
Is what you do
You don't need me
To say
That's OK too
I am saying what I have learned
Is that
Old is new
is New
is New
And we're afraid to try
So we just reconsume
And we resume that tune
That we've already consumed
Scratching out the
Same old
Rhythms and Rhymes
100
200
300 times
And its cool that you've
Found a
New way to do it
But if it's
Already been done
Don't
Make me sit through it

As art is made
With a brand new reason
New fame unfolds
With
Every season
Full of
Tear him down
And take her tooLets
break off branches
Two by two
Because
They don't
Meet you standards
Strand her
Just because
You can stand her
Because you think
She's a faker
And if he sticks out
Well that wont fly
And its all
Condescension
And
Impersonations
Just blog and vlog your
Indignations
And dig nations
Holes to shit in
Spit in
And keep all our artists
Truly hidden
And if you
Say that
You want some more
Put your
Own pedal to floor
I wont you give you more
To pick your bone
And make your home
On what I've made and
You don't know
Because it doesn't matter if I am
8
18
Or 85
Or you're
An impostor wasp
In my
Jumping hive
So please
Demix the remix
Kick this
Overused content fix
And if you're
Looking for some new picks
Well
Pick me
I am all the content you'll ever need


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Always/Never

There is little perfection in never.
There is less humanity in always than first imagined.

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Funny

Being funny often entails nothing more than waiting until somebody has a mouth full of water before telling a joke.

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Fiji

Featured: Richard T. Boehmcke

Photo: Lauren J. Aguilar

Lost Bible Readings

Jesus said to his disciples:

My friends... this loin cloth is itchy

Doesn't anybody have some red meat? I am frigging sick of all this fish.

Why do we continue to wear sandals in the desert? I would sacrifice one of you for a sneaker.

Doesn't anybody know any chicks? People are starting to spread rumors about us.

I give you peace, my peace I give you, I have some peace and of that peace I hereby bequeath a lot of it, so basically ya know, what I am saying is ya know... peace.

Tomb party this weekend?

I tell you, I slept like a dead man this weekend.

I think this "peace" thing is going to be really popular in one thousand nine hundred and sixty years.

I feel like this whole carpentry profession is going to come back to haunt me.

Ok OK, how about, instead of my disciples we call you... the hipsters of Nazareth. No? What about the desert bohemians?

What's with all the wine? I would love a beer.

Red wine and fish? This doesn't go at all!

Does anybody know a good shroud cleaner?

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EE

I read them the way one should eat dessert but doesn't, a little bit at a time, just for taste. And to let that taste linger, resonance and echoes on my tongue, so much more appreciated because of it. So much more.

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The Line

The line between ridiculously beautiful and painfully awful is often nearly imperceptible, practically invisible.


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Mexican Cooking

A good script is like Mexican cooking. It may seem like it is the same basic ingredients re-used over and over again, but really, it is the layers of seasoning and flavor built in that actually make it good.

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History of Life

It was trust

Emotion based on memory

History based on truth

Intrigued but not yet invested

Engaged but not yet immersed

The promise of a thousand missed connections

The hope from theory, thought, and more

Possibility based on fortune

And a future made of maybes

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Lynn

I remember you
Before we knew each other
Before we saw each other for the first time
Before we said hello

I remember you
Laughing and smiling
Making fun of the world
Us against them

I remember you
All eyelashes and twinkles
Seen by everyone
While you were seeing me
And not being able to see anything but each other

I remember you
Ridiculous and embarassing
But maybe that was me
But I remember you loving me
Regardless

And its been 17 years now
But I still remember you
Laughing and Smiling
Wherever you are
Whomever your with

I still remember you

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Finish

They tripped over each other

In mid thought

In mid exhalation

Both unexpecting of the other to be there

Surrounded by their inability to escape

Blinded but for each other

Incapable of alternatives

In love with it

Engulfed in it

And blissfully

Utterly Blissfully

Happy

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JB

She didn't look at me
She didn't care about me
Not really
Tango and Tease
Alarmingly Aloof
She treated me with dispose
Not caring but not uncaring
Involved but unattached
She was finished with me before I could think more
I was her memory
Before she could even fully become
My present

-RTB