pre resolutions

more music made
less light beer
more flavorful suds
less silly television
more deliberate films
less couch time
more texts read
less coffee, really?
more good fuel
less trans fat
more saving money
less savory bacon
more soy milk
less sleeping late
more spirited mornings
will learn drums
will learn banjo
will fulfill obligations
to students and
to administration and
to my wife
to my friends
to my self

happy new year

grimm

the poetry

the poetry and
the time it
takes to make
it work... to
force it out
push pull cram
must be unbearable
suffering must commence
be commanded be
loved coaxed cajoled
leered lacquered lavished
time seems to
be shortened, what
is this in
my bones, sunken
with marrow that
whispers in a
coarse and slight
voice, work now.
tomorrow is no
guarantee. light to
your horses hoist
the banners, pump
the ink prime
the brain, stretch
the tongue, toil
toil toil. hang
the lethargic and
tighten your grip.
hang on for
dear life and
perhaps your life
will be something
to remember.

grimm

shadows move

shadows are moving
pointing their fingers,
fingerless as they
are, to suggested
points of interest.
my tour guides.
they are magnetic
and random. my
heroes whom i
used to worship
with a wish
of transference, have
not grown old
in graceful manners.
awkward and lumbering
they forget the
mine field they
tread. any hazard
in their way
is negligible, as
far as i
can tell, and
they lurch with
heavy shoes, dancing
wild and wanton.
what happened to
those artists that
seemed, in view
from younger eyes,
limitless in power,
wisdom, wit, and
energy. tired, they
all must be.

hope does spring
from Lou Reed.
"The Power of
the Heart" generates
or regenerates both
passion and competition.
"oh if i
could write that
well i would
be happy, perhaps."

i think i
can i know
i will i
have no doubts
new records will
be made, permanent
and well listened.

grimm

tip tap

"tip tap" goes
the drops of
water while "click
clack" turns my
brain. three in
the morning and
i'm awake. not
the restless awake
but the rested
alert awake i've
been searching for.
it is dark
outside and in
my bedroom a
warmth radiates from
the iron accordian
in the corner.
random thoughts settle
on school and
students, my work.
my job, my
ethics, my worries.
laguna the cat
pounces on my
foot. the prey.
the kill. in
the wild, my
other cat, honey
would not survive
too long I
think. she seems
to have no
claws. although i
didn't have them
removed, she seems
to not engage
them half as
much as the
purr box in
her throat. that
is a well
oiled machine. for
sure. coffee is
done. time to
go to school.
let me commit
this blahg to
cyber reality and
off i'll drive.

into the darkness.

grimm

holiday

here we are
tipping the scales
of holiday madness
the shopping, clawing,
racing, wrapping, unwrapping
smiling, smirking, jumping,
slap happiness. all
is well i
say to myself.
tomorrow in the
morning we will
rock again, we
will be taping
the radio segments
for baltimore unsigned.
they will ask,
"How do you
write a song?"
i will respond
"I don't know,
it shows up,
i coax it
along, nurture and
discipline are the
keys to creating
something that lasts.
they never ask
about my favorite
food or my
favorite Seinfeld episode.
alas the world
may never know.

grimm

time is an abstract

where does time
collect? in pools
of porcelain? or
streams of silver.
the rapids of
age and tradition
slowly chip at
the banks, glittering
with memory and
shaded by doubts.
songs we heard
so long ago
are like friends
we used to
know. like worms
doing their job.
consuming and refining.
squirming and embalming.
reorganize i say...
let out the
bitter air, stale
and reactive... less
each year, true,
but what of
last year, don't
you remember what
you did? what
pacts you may
have made, betrayed?
hmmmmmmmm... frowns are
as equally inexpensive
as smiles. so,
take that, punk.

grimm

the clock monkeys

my first band
i played bass
i was bad
i was young
i was silly
i didn't know
neal gentry was
patient i suppose
he said there
are no one
chord songs, just
because three chords
came together doesn't
mean it works.

facebook memories, yes.

i remember this
show. we were
in a basement
whose i can't
recall but i
remember that the
folk watching were
sitting and not
moving or dancing
we were a
bit put off
by that sort
of thing. so
we played anyhow
songs... kisses told
shane thrush
8 o'clock round up

i didn't know
how to play
the bass guitar.

grimm

macbeth

clickety clack
i remember seeing
christopher plummer as
macbeth at the morris
mechanic theatre when
i was fifteen. not that
i was a big christoper
plummer fan, mind you, however
i had seen in him in several
dracula type films and
that was my exposure to him.

the facebook has flared
up and the high school
reunion is full on. funny thing.
i was looking forward to never
knowing anything about
the people i went to high school
with... and here i am... up to
my knees in catching up with
people... i can't help
but think that myspace and
facebook will start high
school reunion services...

ah... recording continues...
i've got four songs finished...
another 6 to go for the solo
disc... i think it sounds good
and will be a fine disc... then...
touring. yay.

grimm

Sebald

i started reading
Sebald's "Rings of
Saturn" last night.

in earnest lawrence
i admit it.
good read, really.

some great lines
that i will
reprint here, soon.

he's got this
knack for description
and a sense
of place, not
setting, but place.

it made me
think about my
freshman year at
Western Maryland College.

I lived in
room 307 in
rouzer hall. and
early in the
morning when there
seemed to be
a gray light
covering everything. not
illuminating but coating
color, making red
bricks slate grey.
there was a
building, public works
maybe, down the
slope of the
hill behind the
dining hall loading
dock and dumpsters
that the trashmen
would slam to
jostle the hungover
college kids on
saturday mornings. beyond
those cans and
in the one
of the alleys in
westminster sat this
small building, water
treatment or something?
i will look
this week and
report back for
us. this building
had lights on
all hours of
the night, but
it was in
the mornings when
i would get
up and look
out the window,
and i'd stare
at those lights
and i'd lift
the window to
my room and
let the cold
air mingle with
the dry forced
air of the
heaters. my line
of sight always
brought me to
that building with
it's small exhaust
pipe constantly puffing
small clouds of
smoke steam marshmellow.
whatever it was
i don't know
but the security,
unexplainable and comfortable,
of those lights
being on meant
that someone was
awake and manning
the switch. whatever
that switch was.
someone had it.
under complete control.

grimm

the quick and the dirty

disconnected from internet
more because of sleep
than anything else.

much has happened
in five days.

i myself would
not have expected
such shifts slowly
pivoting and reaching
to new horizons.

but these horizons
are severely short
of actual "newness."
they were the
things i knew
were already there.
just dormant, sitting.

push came to
shove at the
local tavern, and
i remembered my
words to students.

just walk away.
remember how old
you are and
act out accordingly.

the anger was
shaking in me.
the toothless clod
prying and poking
for a confrontation.
his thumb pressing
the sensitive nerve
and a reaction
expected was not
going to happen.

i spoke my
peace, i used
my language, both
fair and foul
foul and fair
ha ha ha
and walked away.

enough of this
talk about machismo
and doing the
right thing. there
was movement in
the recording of
songs I wrote
a year ago.
ten songs selected
from fawm 2008.
I will do
fawm this year
as well. my
intention is to
crank out as
many great songs
as i can.

songs selected for
the new solo
album, no order

breathe for me
a beautiful shot
turned around
drowning
pretty lies
smoke
no sense
waiting time
all my heart
non titled

grimm