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27 April 2011 @ 11:40 pm
This was a sketch on BART in mechanical pencil I liked, and then put through some photoshop filters. Yes, filters. I know, it's not very dignified.

Current Music: Boduf Songs- I Have Decided To Pass Through Matter
pigshitpoet on February 26th, 2012 06:33 am (UTC)
everything you do that is touched by you is yours, whether campfire charcoal or rocket computer. the only rule is good in, good out..

i love sf. city light books is my fave hangout.. only went there once. hope to get back someday.

this is for you, my friend

i would like to share a poem with you as well. it goes like this...

A Letter to Lawrence Ferlinghetti - Who is not there

I was walking down Columbus
looking for America and the Great City Lights;
“You owe me,” said ever poet ever made;

I met your henchmen; A pilgrim,
I stood on the doorstep of your 'playpen,'
Ominous Odin and the Odysseus,
I trekked from the netherworld,
through to the underworld to shake your hand;
An army of cretins wait at your command -
While I stood facing them, you simply said,
“Don't let that horse eat that violin!”

So I followed Alexander to China
-town, far from the madding English
crowd, and found Chagall locked up
in some glass showcase in German,
Some Hitler had kidnapped him;
“I'm off to find Lawrence of Arabia!” I cried;
I went to Dublin, but Lawrence had died;
I offered him gold myrrh and frankincense,
But the king of Arabia just shook his head, rolled his eyes,
turned and walked away into the dark of immortality
And all the lost poets from thousands of years
all gather up here at the end of the pier - I came to thank you for my gift; I came
and I left; I meant to recite, but you'll just have to 'read it,' like other poet, if
you're still around at the end of my demise;

If every old man with every grey beard was a great institution,
Sailor boys would stand to attention and cross shoulders with soldiers
To champion the phantom - Your priests and your scribes and
Those stompin 'tom' tribes of Israel, O Ishmael!
Camus reviews the evidence over and over
This is The Fall; This poor woman the world passes over,
again and again, like some good Samaritan Jean-Baptiste Clamence,
to become a man

Here I go now to that Golden Gate
I saw the ships on the horizon
watching him,
a man on the bridge
watching the body swim,
disappearing into the bay

cover by psp of an original by luke the poet

stay human,
pigshitpoet on February 26th, 2012 06:35 am (UTC)
filters are how you pass through matter... boduf

; P