Shady Grove Motel

Displaced in time,

Word without a mother,

There was a cat in my room before I even turned the key.

Rolling hills, distant suicide, sun cracking through the flesh.

Brick walls, television chatter, a cake of mildew on the floor.

Fat man, slide me my key. Fat man, slip a paper in my hand.

Until the end of time.

Shady Grove Motel

Daniel James 2012

Dogs

Dogs are not impressed by new technologies. They don’t need the latest gadget and don’t care about the latest trends. Dogs are all gourmets. They know and appreciate good food, but keep their pretensions to a minimum. Filet mignon will always get first nod over a dead rat; but if there is no filet, the rat will do just fine.

Dogs don’t understand arithmetic, don’t take in any income and are not registered voters. They live very charmed lives.

Dogs

Daniel James 2012

Burst Broadcast (prelude to a short film)

 In a place we’ve never seen, but not far from the present, there lies a future lost from the past. It is a technological bubble stupefied by necessity, unable to say hello to strangers, flickering like a lightning bug under the glass.

And then, a warm glow came across the sky. 
People were joyous, happy, blissed beyond their will. 
Lovers met, mothers loved, an old dog died in a young boy’s arms.

It was the awakening. Lightning surged, crashing down, reflecting psychedelic waves into the cellular sphere. Tesla was heard howling from the grave. Aghhhhhhhhhhhhh! As all power burst, wires fried, power plants tripped, Silicon Valley incinerated. Those in close contact with an active computer or cell phone were stunned into lobotomy. Young children and the elderly were primarily left to fend for themselves.

Only a limited network of land-line telephones, ham radio and backfired UHF television frequencies survived, while news and programing is spread primarily by rag-tag regional broadcast signals, and a new breed of citizens emerge like the aftermath of a civil war.

Second chances are not for the gifted, but for those of a will who's strong.

Burst Broadcast (prelude to a short film)

Daniel James 2012

Messages for living in a new world

1.) The new world is both like and unlike the past. It will seem both entirely different and entirely the same as the present.

2.) The new world will contain new, big ideas. These ideas may seem good, but are really bad; or may seem bad, but are really good. It will be up to you to decide.

3.) Whatever you do will be new. You are new. Even if you are doing something old, you are a new person doing it.

4.) Energy shifts. It will hit you from time to time. Ride it while you can; It won't last forever.


Messages for living in a new world
Daniel James 2012

Quote of the day (baseball)

"I can imagine hitting against him tonight. It would have been mind-boggling. I would have been swimming in my own brain about what to look for."

-Seattle Mariner's catcher, John Jaso, describing a stellar pitching by the veteran pitcher, Kevin Millwood. May 18, 2012

Daily Insight, Tuesday Morning

“to live is to fall, backwards and blindfolded, longing for clouds to touch”


Daily Insight, Tuesday Morning
Daniel James 2012

Morning regrets.

A World of Nouns, A Wave of Rounds.
Time, Location and Moment.

The trick to this is quite simple, really, complicated only in its undoing.
You must be in the Time and Place, moments must be aligned.

There are hundreds of moments within a given place.
There are hundreds of places within a given time.

But to find the One moment.. takes patience, foresight, a splash of lucked fate.
A clear window to view through the crack, sliding down slowly, lingering a moment.
Place the wooden peg between the sill and the pane and slip right through.
Linger in the moment, let time freeze/stutter/pass, marking the illusion.
Set a placemat and tip your driver. Smile if you must.

All you need is a Moment, if you look and react it will find you.
But when it finds you you must Act.
Act or it will disappear. For you may be low on second chances.

For a second chance is a second circumstance, Big Bang/Little Bang, vortex path.
And your mathematical odds may never be the same.
Holding their name within your vein.
Slowly Slipping from the frame.


Morning regrets.
Daniel James 2012

--
Text Inspired by Indian Jewelry concerts 2012

Survey

I keep a very mild exterior so that my identity can change quickly.

My ring and pointer fingers are equal distance apart.

My last bowl movement occurred at a time they call “magic hour” in the movie business for the golden, beautiful sunset lighting & atmosphere. Afterwards, I strolled down my local street, where the tavern advertised “Happy Hour Specials.” I ordered three sliders, along with two Mai Tai’s and a tall Zombie. I later staggered out into the night.

Shirley Temple earned a MILLION dollars by age 10.

Babe Ruth began his career as a young “Southpaw” pitcher, and was forever haunted by a misfired pitch-- a bean to the head which killed a man.

Survey
Daniel James 2012

Alcatraz

I was a long distance swimmer.. keep your forearms loose but glide into & spear the water without a splash.. long strokes with a firm, tight waist.. bilateral breathing if possible (1.2.3 breath; 1.2.3 breath)... remember to kick if you get tired.. and daydream your most tantalizing thoughts until the finish line ;)


Alcatraz
Daniel James 2012

Tales from the West

Evanston, Wyoming. December 2011.

Deer Poem

--





Deer Poem
Daniel James 2011

Nuf' said

And it was said over and over again:
Do what you will, boy!
Do what you will!

At first a Thr’il:l
and then a Ch’ill:

Do what you will, boy!
Do what you will!

What a concept to maintain
What a concept to contain
What a content justified
What a glory crusified

Do as do as though is right
Do as do as hard to fight
Do as do as Peter Pan
Do as do as handy man

Do what you will, boy!
Do what you will!

To ill to fullfill
Nil’ ‘lil pill nill
Lil’ dill will
Nil

And then I came to my senses and realized we all just try, try our best.
‘cause the best is all we’re ever gunna have. might as well be the best.


Nuf’ said
Daniel James 2011

rapture

time is a moment,
a moment in time;

the pierce of a pin,
on the giant’s back.

taste is a sensation,
smell is an illusion;

I think therefore I am.

one day I will cease to wake,
and the sun will cease to rise,

yet a stone will lay on the dark side of the moon,
a fire will burn with no eyes to see,
and you will remain here,
now, past, present,
through current,
breezes lent,
micros born,
cosmos cut,
friends felt,
pits peeled,
revealed,
sealed,
for he,
for ye,
thee,
we,
be,
c..
.

into the light.


rapture
Daniel James 2011

springtime

jerked awake by a click in the head,
rustled by a stirring breeze;
there are decisions to make.

new trees are growing, old trees disappearing;
time is moving fast.

a new beginning, a new beginning, a new beginning;
they say.

a new beginning, a new beginning, a new beginning;
they say.

time is moving fast, new trees are growing;
jerked awake by a click in the head.

Looking for advice, and saw it everywhere;
buzzing every hair, particles in the air;
seedlings with messages to bear;
fractured apart.

My eyes are wide, toeing the starting line;
electric spine, electric spine, electric spine;
toeing the starting line, swaying to the click.

false start hesitation, false start anticipation;
these times are made to make you think.

false start hesitation, false start anticipation;
these times are made to make you blink.

it is the time to cut, the time to tie;
the time for you to roll the die.

to focus and find what’s on the mind;
to focus and find what may be blind;

a cool drink of water.

let’s just lie in the grass with ants in our hair and the sun on our face and the clouds in our minds and the birds in our thoughts and seep into the earth to find our place and our selves and confront the comfort through bliss with no remiss or hiss and toss the kiss.


springtime
Daniel James 2011

confessions

When I was a boy, I could watch television for eight hours at a time, twelve in a good day. I would tell time by my favorite programs, keenly aware of the elements in them that defined the culture for which I lived. Morning for updates, noontime for serious, daytime for gossip and drama. 5pm gets sober, 6pm gets nervous, 7pm gets exiting, while after ten means danger.

As I grew older, I realized the best hours of television were between 3-4am. These are the times when all you have is passion, grit and madness. Primal. Illusive. Solitary. These are the times when live Weather Channel reporters get wacky and delirious, when Public Access Television delves into their deepest, darkest corners and even re-runs become too good for the likes of you.

Whenever on a long trip and budget allows, I will find the smallest town over 500 on the map, on the most remote sector of my direction. I will find the old highway off the glitz strip and search for what looks to be the oldest, cheapest and most forgottenly American motel. I will find a feast for both the body and the mind, and revel in the luxury.

It will likely be a Monday, or will feel as though, and they will have something guiltily extravagant to buy at the local service station. A bottle of wine, pop magazine, or Polish hot dog, perhaps. Lady Luck on my side, the Taco John’s will still be open. If not, I will order a quesadilla to-go from the 24hr roadside dive, to accompany what would hopefully be a Molotov cocktail of wine, smokes and that shiny pop magazine.

Once returned, I take off my shoes with a deep victorious sigh, create an appropriate pillowed nesting zone, and finally grasp the wand- the taser- zapper- and clicker of wonder--- powering up the box that once gave me so much joy as a boy. We will laugh and cry, stare and zone, think a befuddled thought. Baseball highlights will loop to my heart’s content, Star Trek or Quantum Leap will sooth and amuse, and a local Big Band will play summer picnic socials on Channel 4.

But it all waits in anticipation for that glorious hour between three and four.

You will find that most major storms in the Midwest occur during these mystery hours of the night, when only a streaking semi truck dare challenge the rounds. The wind will howl and a loud CRASH will jar you from a dozing haze. You’ll crack the door and peer outside, only to see your jalopy in the lot and a skinny black cat slinking around the corner, barely crevicing the neon light puddle cast by your motel marquee. You’ll feel a sharp cringe of paranoia, realize you’re a mad man in a lonely place, and then the Television will take you in. The love and compassion of a room of lost relatives. The love and compassion of a world you may never meet.

Take me in Television, take me in.


confessions
Daniel James 2011

night drive

OK, back to my story;

I pull to a stop and a police car that had been following pulls up.

Pause. Stand. Look. Wait.

Window opens slowly,
"Do you go out much?" he says.

"Well ugh..." I murmur. "I suppose I do. I ugh... suppose... I do."

"We've been getting calls." he says in a calm, cool voice in the dark of the squad car. "On Mountain Lions. Once we get one, they all start coming."

"Really?" I question, trying to sound sober and Southern. "Are they aggressive?"

"If they're hungry they are!" he srugs back in disbelief. " They can get a dog, or a little kid. Little ol ladies, walking their dogs in the morning. A lion run out from the trees and got a little chihuahua. Yanked the leash right out of her hands and run it back to the woods. Calls like that come in all the time."

"Just thought I'd let you know."

"Ugh... thank you, " I say. "That's good to know."

He gave a chill nod and slowly cruised up the winding road,
and into the darkness of night.


night drive
Daniel James 2010

prelude

Somewhat altered by my State
I found myself rolling through the cruves,
a horse on wheels, pinned to the road, burring.

Swift as it were, a tumbled spark to a world of bliss and pain benign;
I felt impowered by a sense of Fate.

Stop, Pause; Look Look, Drive.
Pause, Look Look, React.
Pause, Look Look, React.
Drive.

It was time to Stop.
And stop I did.
Confident reverse maneuver.
Sling! Pop! Bruuuuuuuuuuuuu
oh the feel of a German
a German
German
c.arrr
rrm
m
a
.
pop!

err......
>dunk< > dunk<
ssstop.
ppp
p
.

Quiet.

Quiet.

Quiet.

"And now the story begins, I thought.
Andernow, constoryanderson
Hear me now danandwhen
andwhendrsn,

The story has yet to begin.
And
dnA
dannA

Start the gaddong story.


prelude
Daniel James 2010

desire

Tick tock Tick tock
Time Time Time

Tick tock Tick tock
Time Time Time

I feel my heart
I pull my hair

I postulate thoughts
I formulate wants

Tick tock Tick tock
Time Time Time

Tick tock Tick tock
Time Time Time


desire
Daniel James 2011

lessons

I was lost,
learning an eternal lesson.

I was found,
but a bit said forgotten.

I had lost my way, had nothing to say;
always on cusp lest never the middle.

I had spun some fun, those colors and sounds;
feeling the way by making the rounds.

I had spun some fun, those moments and glances;
skirting the sounds of the sudden romances.

Second chances, hidden circumstances;
burning a spear through flesh and bone.

Second chances, hidden circumstances;
tearing a fire through heart and soul.

that of which we love; that of which we need;
that of which is seed to be freed;

Is found to succeed, in a time of need,
yet you must bleed the deed to feed.

And that is the lesson indeed.


lessons
Daniel James 2011

Music Gigs 2005-10

Make no mistake about it, your friendly Author is not at all a musician. Yet somehow, the music has found him. For archival purposes, here are recordings of three (defunct) outfits I've been involved in:

"The Plastic Hearts" were my roommates, plus two additional friends, from Boulder, CO. They would practice in the living room, and the dog and I would sit in my room and listen. One day, they started practicing a particularly jamming riff, and I began to daydream along with it. After some weeks past, they had yet to secure lyrics for the piece, and I sheepishly presented a sheet of lyrics.

Here is a clip from our first show, and the only song in their set I participated in. In total, we maybe played 5 or so shows in the Denver/Boulder area-- our best being our last at the famed Monkey Mania. As I recall, it was about ten times more theatrical than this clip, and I was sore for several days after. Video was taken, but isn't in my hands and has yet to surface elsewhere.



About a year or so after graduating college, I found myself pennyless and living in my mother's house with the dog in the mystical "Oz" city of Grand Rapids, Minnesota. This was a difficult time, and my employment consisted of cashiering at an empty, 1970's-style Kmart with a group of old ladies named Joan, Alice and Carolyn. This was actually pretty cool, and I'll get the whole recap down on text whenever I catch up with life. My second job was as a swim coach at the YMCA, which is ironic given the tragically comic end to my swimming career (ask me about it in-person, and I'll buy you a drink!)

Anywho... for a fleeting moment me and my fellow aging homebound, Martin "fartin" Latimer aka The Tron, were cult celebrities of sorts amongst the youth hipster/dipster community. We'd spin records for the community radio and just generally act as the weirdo resident art kids in town. This lead to a one-time-only gig at the local youth center, partnering with three of the best musicians in town-- this was actually near the end of a mega-cool youth movement that lasted from 1998-2008 in Grand Rapids. (Hopefully a cool youth movement is happening now, but I'm not there to be sure...)

Here is "Bad of Meat," from the only full "Obstacle Corpse" performance ever, at the Ground Floor:


Bag of Meat

ObstacleCorpse! | Myspace Music Videos

This last one is most recent, a project currently on hiatus called "Mother Hug." I sorta got roped into this one by being friends with a bunch of the local musicians in Hot Springs, Arkanasa, and really just got tossed up in front of the mic 'cause I can't play an instrument. Nonetheless, it was a pretty fun "alter-ego" and we've done about 10 or so shows in and around Hot Springs.

Here is a clip taken from a security camera at Low Key Arts.

Best Wishes

A jump to the sky; how high will you fly
when a smile trembles your heart.

A jump to the sky; how high will you fly
when a tickle touches your art.

I took a deep breath and struggled to live
‘cause there was nothing much better to do.

I took a deep breath and struggled to live
‘cause I can’t just stop thinking of you.

A blink from afar, wherever you are
I feel your beat in my chest.

A blink from afar, wherever you are
I can only wish you the best.


Best Wishes
Daniel James 2011

Fresh Meat

I yearn for the touch of fresh meat on my fleshy black lips

                                                               Raw and Bloodied.

I love how the juices drip from my snout 

       and stimulate my large bland tongue.

I love to run.

I love to run across large open fields

 feeling the cool morning dew-drops scatter between my toes.

I love a windy Southern breeze, and how we pass

                                      like Strangers in the Night.

I smell meat simmering in an all-night eatery.

I smell apes

 sweaty in their tailored overcoats.

        Lonely. Arrogant. Confused.

I smell the changes of autumn leaves

 waiting to pass judgment before their Wake.

I smell happiness.

I smell

 Sadness.

Down my running path

 a countryman hears what I hear, and shits where I shit.

How I envy his boister and grace.

His cool demeanor and ruthless tact.

Where the meat is free for the taking

                   dancing on a saltless sea.

You will find me.     

Lounging on the cool tile.

   Passing gas with excess.

Content.

Content with this

      Familiar Place.

Content with the way I sneeze in a dusty cave.

I have no Deadlines, Documents, or Preoccupations.

I have no will to see things through.

All I have

 is me.

  and gods willing:

A belly full of fresh, succulent meat.

                        

                          Raw and Bloodied.

Fresh Meat

Daniel James (via the Red Pig) 2004

Modern Times

“And there was a time,” he thought, “when a copy of Eraserhead was so terribly hard to find. When all that we had were a very few scraggly, out-of-print tapes floating around, probably from when some long or half-defunct, single-office-smoking-lounge of a company, put out a few in the late 1970s.”

“But now,” he thought, “we must work so much harder to be original. And yet, that which is original is not properly recognized. We are overwhelmed with options. Our lives no longer lie, we have all the facts. We are the same as you in Moscow, Prague or Vancouver, BC. Yes, we are all connected as one; our selves categorized by one witty autobiographical paragraph. Yes, to live. Oh, to live," he thought.


Modern Times
Daniel James 2011

Oh What A Lovely Day!

Oh how I loved the oily essence
 tickle me through my toes
Balloons to my face

Oh how I loved the feel of sass;
 sitting in the pelvic bust
Flush with must
Until I blush

Oh how I loved your style
a smile a while; total denial.

You flair to compare; everywhere.
Over there,
.
How fair yet bare;
in the air:
where.

A bucket of dice will suffice;
they’ll pay the price;
they’ll pay the price;
they’ll pay the price;
to be pure.


Oh What A Lovely Day!
Daniel James 2011

(Penned: Sunday, January 30, 2011. 6:16 AM. Inspired by French Quarter of Hot Springs, Arkansas.)

Topics on Arkansas, Part 2

So there I was sitting in the back row of the Magic Lantern Theatre,
sneaking onies to the beat of a cheeseball "Master Illusionist."

"This is the life," I thought. "The good life."

A skip and a dance party later, I found myself at the French Quarter, BYOB strip club.
one of two in town.

"Mmmm..." I glazed. "A nice big heaping plate of Biscuits and Gravy would be rippin' right about now."

Later on I would eat just that. Waffle House, 24/7. One of two in town.

I didn't need the crack peddled outside those glistening glass doors,
but it sure was kind of the man to ask.


Topics on Arkansas, Part 2
Daniel James 2008

Topics on Arkansas, Part 1

So I packed up the car and gigantic decrepit dog and headed for Arkansas. The VW golf could only carry about 1/3 of my stuff, and minute by minute I agonized over the various small trinkets and knick-knacks forced behind by lack of space. But things are things, and in general I attribute more hatred than fondness for them.

As I rolled into town it became clear that tasks would be of the difficult variety. I scoured the city for dog-friendly sleazebag motels, and finally landed at the Relax For Less Inn, a grizzly joint in the old part of town known for it's frequent shut-downs by the Law. As Father Fate would have it, the car died and wouldn't start again right as I pulled in front of my motel room, like a distance runner collapsing at the finish line. After 1500 or so miles, it was better than somewhere on the road, but a brow-furrowing moment nonetheless.

I did all I could, but couldn't fix the problem. This was a bit nerve-worthy. I just barely had enough for the first month's rent on a place, but a trip to the mechanic would wipe me flat. With all my worldly objects in the car, I couldn't exactly leave it either. So I went and talked to Surangan, the motel owner, and asked if he knew of any auto repair shops.

"Oh, no no, my man is much better. I will send him as soon as he's done caulking 6. He's much better. Monkey can fix anything."

Monkey?

A while latter Monkey came ambling over. He grew up poorer than dirt in Russelville and worked as a maintenance man at the Relax. He's lived with two babies and his wife in the motel for the past 8 months. Monkey riffled into action, fidgeting with wiring and gadgets as two friends cheered him on, "Ain't you fixed 'er yet, Monkey?!"

Monkey was sure it was the ignition switch, but I had a spare and it didn't work. It appeared to be some kind of wierd obsure VW issue. Suddenly he jerked up and scampered to the maintance room, returning with a lightswitch and long bit of wire. With his knife and wistful tact, he attached the switch to my dash and ran the wire to my battery and starter. Within a matter of minutes, he'd Mcgiver'ed a way to start my car by bypassing the switch. I would now need to turn my ignition and quickly flash the lightswitch when I needed to start the car. Works like a charm.

"Wow, thanks," I said. "Uh... do I owe you anything?"

"Ahh, nawwwwww," he says.

"Are you sure?"

"Well... I could use a smoke," he says while making a pinching motion to his lips in a whilly eyed fashion.

"Oh, sure," I say. "Maybe in a little bit."

Soon I would be standing in a circle of motel residents exchanging good vibes and cloudy vapors. We played frisbee in the lot, and a fat woman talked to Monkey's wife about Thanksgiving plans.

"Do you like sweet potatoes, stuffing?" Questioned the huge blissed out mother of two. Monkey chimed in, "Man, I grew up poooorrrr. We just kinda slopped up whatever could heat."

We flung the frisbee around some more under the hum of bronze light reflected on patchy pavement. It was a balmy Autumn evening, surrounded by stars and National Park. I had made it to the South.


Topics on Arkansas, Part 1
Daniel James 2008

mmm... goodtimes!

moneymoneymoney.




timetimetimetime.













it seems

















something.



somethingthatcanbeseen.

seen by me?

seen by you



it's like grandpa used to say..
you know; that stuff you couldn't understand--

just tell it to the boy next door for fluckes sakes.


tell the queen of england, for all I care.
all I want is a glass of bubbling soda with a slice of lime.


but you can never have lime when you want it.
never purchased while you are there.
never there when you are present.
but always there behind the window.


mmm... goodtimes!
Daniel James 2008

Tasks

This is a story about a boy who loved his dog.
He wore a mustache and lived with his mother.
He had a lot of clutter, and had difficulties maintaining objects.

One day he woke up. Suddenly he woke up again. Then his eyes opened and he thought: "Have I woke up? What Exactly am I doing here? Hmmm..." He had the strange feeing of deja vu. A feeling he could not tell as being one of yesterday, today, or tomorrow. But nonetheless, this could be an important day. A very important day perhaps.

He looked around at his things. Had he just left all these things there? Like that?! Humm... Hmmm... Yes... I suppose so. They were his to move, and his alone.

Then he noticed his body, and questioned it's resonance as "thing." It had somehow been arranged in a certain way. A way in which he and he alone could manipulate. My, what have we here? How -queer- this thing. How -individual- it is. What can be done with this?

He stood erect and blinked. Soon he would be wearing pants and a shirt, a token undergarment perhaps. He would then set out to a task.

A task is a movement or action that ideally has effect on other movements, actions, or things. Hmmm.... Tasks. Yes, hmmm... He began to think. Hmmm...


Tasks
Daniel James 2008

Stream of Light

YOUYOUYOUYOUYOUYOUYOUYOUYOU
MEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEME
I. I. I. I. I. I. I. we. we. we. we. we. we. we. we.

Push! Press! Pound!
Push! Press! Pound!

Stand up and FIGHT!
Stand up
Stand up

ERECT YOURSELF

Your self. YOUR self.
SELFSELFSELFSELF

tear open
. SLIT! PEEL! CRACK!

BEAR the POUNDING LIGHT>>>>>>>>>>>IIIIII
BLIND with ROARING PAIN>>>>>>>>>>>>

BURN!!! MELT INTO THE FIRE!!!
WAX of BONE; OIL of MEAT: pop!

. . . . popopopop; blink blink: BLINK; BLINKBLINKBLINK!!!

RRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAwwwwwwwrrRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!
BBBBBBBBbbbbbbbbbbbbbblllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrr!!!!!!!!!

<> I crawl inside and let the acid mix; mix mingle and crizzle
until you and we and I------------
can finally think and understand


Stream of Light
Daniel James 2008