SUNRISE

its funny to see a sunrise,in portland,over the horizon through the houses and trees and such,and often i am subject to such a pleasant site these days;whether it has something to do with work,if i happen to be working graveyard that night, or if i happen to wake up early or if i had been at a party a little longer than i had originally expected.

seems almot ironic that i would write about this sort of thing i am often disapointed by people who send time on contemplations of sunsets and sunrises and the lot,but i have thoughts i connect with the concept of watching the sunrise with that go well beyond nature and more into human nature.



being a poet,i am obviously subject to drift back into the past, which i am as guilty of cheese-ball sentiment as anyone,but also,i am as guilty as anyone as letting it pull me into my own personal resavoir of shadows,and it occoured to me the other morning that i had purpose fully avoided looking towards the horizon at morning,and it is for reasons that go back to the beginning of the new millenium.

back in 99 and 2000,i had drug problems,admittedly,i did before and afterwards also, but my focus is specific in this; i had moved away from my hometown(and i use that term very,very loosely) of Vale,Oregon, in a dsasterous move to twin falls idaho, of which,is apartial basis for my novel in progress,malhuer,in the sping of 99,and in idaho,my habbit had become strengthend, or i had weakend, however you want to look at it,needless to say many things went wrong,and i came running back home, to stay with my mothers for a litte while (i was only 18) while i tried getting my life in some sort of near order.

i moved out, in with a friend of mine, upon her telling me that there was work if i wanted it, doing the sort of manual labor farm work we both were acustom to,so i of course snapped at the offer. with my friend,well, we became more than friens,but unfortunately, some of my bad habbits rubbed off.and some of us are luckier than others.
but,
it was during this time,when we would do our work, usually having to start early on,when we could see the sun rise over the hills which, depending on the season were covered in either alfalfa or wheat or or just plain old sage brush,and seeing the light hit the hills and the brilliant rays seemingly envelop the hillsides like they were aflameand had become more than their value on the planet and were about to jump up into space itself and join in unison with the sun itself.
i am,finally, after all these years gone by,learning how to look at things and realize i am notstranded in memories, only visiting.

the origin of poetzombie

recently,
i was asked by a friendin the poetry scene, such as it is, where the title poetzombie came from, what inspired it,ect,ect.
the most obvious ansewer being that it came from my email,which is true, but it does of course go much further than that..


it goes back to the beginning of 2004,
when i was living in a truly inspiring house on southeast morrison street, one of the better parts of portland,though there are many great parts to p-town.
what was inspiring about it was the people, the synergey brought about by them,
an amalgam of activists artists writers people of spirituality, and intellectuals.

cheif among these friends was a young man named Josh Lorring,
who possed an acerbic wit andand warped sense of humor that the likes of hunter thompson and memebers of monty python would be impressed by,
who at the time worked at a pet store and told his co-works of the recent anecdotes of things around the house, changing the names, calling cetain members the monk, the activist, the ninja, the supehero,and i was referred to as the poet.
Josh loved zombie movies;
his enthusiasm for them rubbed off on me,
and in 04 they seemed to come back in fashion with a vengence with the likes of the dawn of the dead remake, the recent resident evil flicks, and the british farce shaun of the dead.

one afternoon, after a day in the factory where i was working t the time,
i,feeling sore and hot,since it was mid july,
i sat on the couch in the kitchen(dont ask) just groaning,in my quasi-miserable state.
Josh walked in,heard me,then saying aloud, "I think we have a zombie in here some, oh, its the poet. poet,zombie,poetzombie,whatever." then it stuck.
that title carried ith it kind of a morbid humor and unique image that i asociate with josh and sometimes,when i am at my best,i hope to almost share.

Josh commited suicide in september of 2005,
and with the title that he had given me,i try very hard to be as good a writer as i can be, since he
thought well enough of my writing to call me the poet.

ELSEWHERE IN THE BLOGGING WORLD...

HELLO, TO ALL WHO MAYBE READING THIS...
MOSTLY JUST MY FRIENDS AND PERHAPS SOME PEOPLE WHO WILL STUMBLE UPON THIS WHILE LOOKING THROUGH THE BLOGSPOTS, SO THIS IS ACTUALLY A SECONDARY BLOG FOR ME. MY FIRST AND STILL MOST DEAR TO ME IS ACTUALLY MY MYSPACE ACCOUNT, AS CLICHED AS THAT SOUNDS.I HAVE ABOUT 1500 POEMS AT THAT SITE. HERE IS A LINK: www.myspace.com/poetzombie
SO THE PURPOSE OF THIS BLOG WILL BE TO DISPLAY THE NON POETIC PIECES. THOSE WILL INCLUDE A FEW PLAYS, MOSTLY IN A BECKETT HOMAGE VOICE, AND EXCERPTS FROM MY NOVEL IN PROGRESS "MALHUER". WHICH I WILL BE WRITING MORE OF IN THE COMMING MARCH, HOPEFULLY HAVING IT DONE IN MID-MAY.
SO WE WILL SEE HOW THIS BLOG GOES,IM CERTAIN IT WILL SERVE ME WELL.