When Iwas younger I did the bar scene.
One night, I'm sitting at the bar with my friend James Grode, (The ten Pin)
Jimmy was a funny guy, So he started telling me some crazy shit
"Eddie have you ever eaten out an asshole"
keep in mind Jimmy is two sheets into the wind.
I say, what the fuck are you saying?
At that same moment Patty the bartender comes over to top us off
now Jimmy asked him,
"Patty have you ever eaten out an asshole".(You know how bartenters are like).
Patty without skipping a beat replies,

Ok. so this is what they call blogging. Someone typing out their thoughts and sharing a small part of themselves through their writing for everyone else to see. So yes truth be told I've never done this so if this entry seems to waffle on a little please excuse me, but its time to get to know the real me,

Would the real Feebie (Jill as is my given name) please stand up?

Just listened to Alan Ginsberg reading "Howl" again. Why do I do this to myself?

We all need to come down from our own egos now and then, I make myself read Shakespeare, Coleridge, Bukowski again and again I torture myself with the genius I will never be.

But try. I have to. "“If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad.” Byron. But I've never met a good writer for whom writing wasn't torture.

Bunch of fucking masochistic egotists some of us are.

.
pleasantries aside
they don't talk to each other
much too sensitive

pc minds are bound
church and state touch ev'rything
best they hold their tongues

no stuttering truth
no juggling words that might hurt
no awkward pauses

small talk and gossip
nothing of human in'trest
pleasantries prevail

.
Hey!
hold on
it's my turn
for god's sake
what is wrong with you
why do you persist
you do recognize obnoxiousness
as a flaw
don't you
everywhere you go
everything you do
fussin' and feudin'
flagrancy unimpaired
"my way, do it my way"

cut it out

use your self anointed "brillance"
for something worthwhile
learn how to
not be a bitch
...bitch

ok, now it's your turn

I just received a PM from Andrew that the repair has been made.
Thank you to Andrew for his rapid response.
Edde C.

"Just The End"
by Ty Drescher

It's been a while since we stopped talking,
got myself a little lost in the distance.
Never was good at this whole love thing
and I'm not asking for another chance

We have known each other for a long, long time
You know I'd never want to hurt you
But being with you feels so wrong, wrong I'm
telling you the truth,
I swear I'm telling you the truth.

.
fresh winds groom
sweeping clean
dust and
musty staleness
dispatching crumbs
and grumblings
there
for a moment
cleansed
clarity
then
from somewhere
not here
cross winds
pump
and dump
hazziness
replenished
to bewilder
befuddle
and bemaze
until
the next big dust-up

;
my boyhood,
as distinct from girlhood, girlyhood,
girlyness, ugh ...girls!,
is now rather vague in memory
particularly on particulars
though I still remember feelings
of frustation, confusion, and dissappointment
inflicted by the larger world of grownups

but when me and my buddies
were outside playing
I understood perfectly "our world"

150 years ago on this date the American war between the states began. This is for the over 600,000 who died in that conflict. ( another poem from old site)

Let's now not talk of right or wrong
who was weak and who was strong
forget the leaders and their goals
but just the ones who fought, poor souls

Some wore grey and some wore blue
and often they each other knew
the war that started out as "grand"
too rapidly grew out of hand