KD

Warm.

Cheesy.

Yellow.

(wait..)

Orange?

(whatever)

Yummy!

Spoonfuls.

(Big WOODEN Spoonfuls!)

Comforting.

Delicious!

Gooey!

Creamy!

Mmmmmmmmm..!

Gone.

(  : (  )

Contemplating Explicitness...

I've just recently been considering adding an Explicit Content Advisory to this blog for the simple reason that SOMETIMES I feel inclined to write about things that are more than PG-13.  This is a simple thing to enable, if I so choose, Blogger.com has a little box you can check for that which then adds a content advisory warning each time someone visits your blog.  I did not do this, when I first created this blog, for two reasons; ONE, I did not feel I would be publishing much that would fall under a need for explicit content advisory and TWO, I worried that such an advisory page would potentially reduce my viewing audience, if only because the extra notification page is just a bit annoying.

Of course now I face the minor dilemma of whether I go ahead and enable the explicit content warning on my blog so that I may feel free to write or rant explicit without fear of blog removal by Blogger.com's censors, OR to censor myself whenever an explicit impulse strikes me..  I am leaning heavily toward the former.  It is probably my usual lack of confidence in my writing finding an audience that would have me worry about losing readers because I sticker a "Parental Advisory: Explicit Content!" sticker over it, and really, the minor annoyance is not THAT big a deal, right?  If any of my readers has any input or suggestion on this subject, please leave me a comment relating such.

Summing up: Don't be surprised if you click on my blog one day and are asked if you "Understand and wish to continue." ;)

He drives rain slicked streets in his Deliverator's car,

Fat, sticky tires clinging to the road like a slug to a leaf.

His machine crouches like a beast stalking it's prey,

As it accelerates and weaves through the concrete jungle.

He is ONE with his car, a perfect melding of man and machine.

The pizzas WILL be on time.

The sudden SLAP of a "poon" alerts the driver that he's picked up a stowaway..

Some brave entrepreneurial idiot is using the Deliverator to get themselves somewhere FAST.

He does NOT like unexpected passengers..

The driver's names, first AND last, are synonymous with hero,

And he fashions himself to be one, of a sort.

He determines to LOOSE this leech.

Glancing back into his blind spot the Deliverator spots the interloper;

Decked out in the flashy colors and modern body armor of a courier,

They are "skiing" off the back of his ride, dangling from the end of the suckered on harpoon.

Okay, damn... I'm gonna end that there.. I started this "poem" as an attempt to pay tribute to one of my favorite books by writing a poem BASED on it, about the main character. Any of my readers who have read Neal Stephenson's "Snow Crash" will have immediately (I hope) recognized Hiro Protagonist in his role as The Deliverator from the beginning of that great, fun, science fiction novel.  I feel like my attempt at an homage was just turning into a sort of butchered reinterpretation of events that Mr. Stephenson himself described far better in his OWN words, in the book.  So rather than sound like I may be ripping him off, or worse, doing a disservice to the tale told in Snow Crash by painting it less than it is, I'll abandon this exercise.  I was inspired to try such a thing by some of my favorite music artists who write songs about great novels that they love and manage to do so poetically and without infringing on the writings of those to whom they are paying tribute.  I will likely try this again, either with the same, or a different subject at a later time.  Perhaps I am being too hard on myself, and this poem was NOT going THAT badly... but for me it stopped even feeling like a poem and felt more like I was trying to tell the story and doing so badly :P  heheh :-D

I will end this post with a quote, directly from the book, a writing style that I can only HOPE to aspire to one day:

Image Copyright of lhn6856

"A row of orange lights burbles and churns across the front, where the grille would be if this were an air-breathing car. The orange light looks like a gasoline fire. It comes in through people's rear windows, bounces off their rearview mirrors, projects a fiery mask across their eyes, reaches into their subconscious, and unearths terrible fears of being pinned, fully conscious, under a detonating gas tank, makes them want to pull over and let the Deliverator overtake them in his black chariot of pepperoni fire." - Neal Stephenson, Snow Crash

Trasnsformative Folliage

Leaf-strewn lanes on a blustery Autumn evening,

Transform a modern street into a fairytale trail,

A winding woodland way through the dark forest.

What wonders may await at this fabled road's end?

Does an ever slumbering princess lie beneath a witch's spell,

Upon a bed of oak and glass bedecked with silken sheets?

Might there be a giant's castle at the end o' the  path?

It's rampart's flying flags depicting fantastical creatures,

Mighty gryphons perched on the tall stone turrets.

Could an even greater wonder still lie in a clearing ahead?

A circle of standing stones within a clearing in the woods,

Standing in its center, a proud and beautiful unicorn.

Alas, none such as this appears.. but what is this?

A sudden light before you at the crossing..

It is RED.

You bring your carriage to a stop.

The light turns.

Onward you drive into the real world and towards home...

Feed Me Back..

Hey everybody.  This is just a short post to humbly request that those fine souls who are actually taking the time to read this little blog o' mine take a few seconds more to click and give me feedback.  You don't need to post a full comment (though I greatly appreciate those) just point your mouse pointer at one (or more) of the little check boxes at the bottom of each post.  I even added a couple more options.  Now you could just click to say "I read it" or "boring" :) heheh  I know it doesn't mean much to you, but it is these little things that mean something to me.

Thanks for reading.

- Josh

Bloem

So.. apparently a bloem is a dutch word for bloom, as in the bloom of a flower.

Bloem

Okay.. not the worst thing in the world to have associated with what I had hoped was just another made up mash-up of a word combining blog with poem the way vlog combined video with blog.  I mean, a bloom or flower of a flowering plant signifies new life or the re-emergence of life like that which comes along every Spring.  I do hope that this bloem blog can be a re-emergence of my creative life.  A place for me to nurture and grow the seeds of my writing process and branch out my imagination.  I want to push myself to write, even if I am only writing about that WANT to write.  Maybe I'll surprise myself with what I come up with.  Maybe some divine inspiration will emerge and blossom into something bigger.  Or maybe I'll just write my silly poems and the occasional rambling story about my life or ghost gnomes on mars and life will just continue to ramble on. :)  I'm honestly good with it, either way.  I am in a new beginning in my life, a time a renewal and new growth.  Let the bloems commence!


In Bloom - Nirvana

Sell the kids for food
Weather changes moods
Spring is here again
Reproductive glands

He’s the one
Who likes all our pretty songs
And he likes to sing along
And he likes to shoot his gun
But he knows not what it means
Knows not what it means
when I say
He’s the one
Who likes all our pretty songs
And he likes to sing along
And he likes to shoot his gun
But he knows not what it means
Knows not what it means
when I say yeeeaaahhh



We can have some more
Nature is a whore
Bruises on the fruit
Tender age in bloom

He’s the one
Who likes all our pretty songs
And he likes to sing along
And he likes to shoot his gun
But he knows not what it means
Knows not what it means
when I say
He’s the one
Who likes all our pretty songs
And he likes to sing along
And he likes to shoot his gun
But he knows not what it means
Knows not what it means
when I say yeeeaaahhh

*Guitar solo*

He’s the one
Who likes all our pretty songs
And he likes to sing along
And he likes to shoot his gun
But he knows not what it means
Knows not what it means
when I say
He’s the one
Who likes all our pretty songs
And he likes to sing along
And he likes to shoot his gun
But he knows not what it means
Knows not what it means
Knows not what it means
Knows not what it means and I say yeeeaaahhh
mmmmmmmm
mmmmmmmmm

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Blog re-launch

At first when I had the thought of restarting and trying to breathe new life into this lapsed blog of mine, I briefly toyed with the idea of re-naming it "Thing-a-Day", a blatant rip-off of Jonathan Coulton, a folksy, humorous, singer/song writer of whom I have recently grown quite fond, and who gained notice through his own musical project "Thing-a-week" in which he put out one new or cover song a week for a year.  After a bit of thought, I decided that, as much as I'd LIKE to be able to say that I would write at least one thing a day, I knew/know myself, and my horrible tendency toward procrastination, better than that.  Hence, Bloem a Week was born. :)  Still a tribute to (sounds nicer than ripoff ;) Mr. Coulton as well as to the band he ripped off.. I mean, was inspired by, They Might Be Giants, whose old Dial-A-Song service, back in the days of answering machines, served as the inspiration for Jonathan's musical project.  Lastly, but most certainly not least, I would be remiss if I did not include my friend Patrick Brennan, whose excellent art/writing blog 52 Fridays  not only ALSO follows this tried-and-true self motivator of weekly postings but also showed me what a blog can be and inspired me to someday maintain my own blog.

Now, despite the fact that I settled on "..A Week" as the 'suffix' to my blog's title, I will by no means use that as an excuse to limit myself to merely one post a week.  If I am able to maintain daily blogs for a while, so be it.  Someone said "Less is More" but, honestly, isn't MORE more??  So I will endeavor to write, as often, and whenever the mood strikes me, and, AT LEAST once a week.  I gave myself that self motivator in the title to do just that, motivate my SELF.  I like the me who writes, even if I don't always care for some of the silliness or aborted attempts at deep philosophic meanderings that spill out of his head and onto the keyboard. :)  So I will practice BEING that me.

- Josh

Alphabetty-Spaghetti

Always Bring Current Documentation.

Effervescent Fairies Glide Haughtily.

Introduce Jocular Kindness, Lavishly.

Meditate Now On Phosphorescence.

Quietly Reflect Serene Thought-forms.

Understand Various Widespread  Xenographies.

Your Zen-like Zealous Youth.

Xylomancy With Variegated Undergrowth.

Trans-formative States Revealed Quickly.

Psychic Observances Newly Made.

Leaving Knowledgeable Jobs Inexplicably.

Hypnotic Guidance From Elsewhere.

Delivers Consciousness Broadly Awakened.