Below are the 18 most recent journal entries recorded in l.c.'s LiveJournal:

Tuesday, May 30th, 2006
11:33 pm	i've always had daydreams of calmly splayed across the open air a smile sighing my relief as the juggernaut of ephemeral life awaits it's final thunderous yelp, but they come to me only as fantasies of escapism and ruminations on self-pity. i would never have the courage to lie down in the indigo blossom lined with felt poison-tipped needles and patiently watch, stars circling the celestial poles, as the petals droop and sleepily wrap me in a curtain of filaments and veins within a darkness of eternal clouds. this fog roils like the mysterious sands in a cauldron, horses roll on the ground before me their manes pierce my eyes then melt away so many images--black hair swims over my face, and suddenly the dry mists are stained a bottomless brown containing more fathoms than an ebony field of fabric i'm lost in that earth and clay and i remember a solid reality that clings me to life and asks me only to dream of the great unknowing inside me. (6 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, April 8th, 2006
9:13 pm	unfinished scraps imitation flanks of blood march in horizontal queues across the soiled mud flats. like an ancient dream, the hurt bodies roll in unison under the cows the meat swells to a bulbous engine of lust-- naked fragment of power coiling into the cracked earth the cram of cars rush like a wasteland images of radiation circle my eyes and taint the edges with the burning dust of instant memory-- holding up a can of prescience to the light of knowledge... ...i fall into the deep invisible mirrors walking over the darkness like a blind god over the inchoate oceans with no anchor and no solid ground to scar my face on the fields run like rivers and the cacti cry out each time the heavy knife sinks into raped pink flesh a black army marches across the marroon earth endless strands of blood fractal into the near horizon before my feet. ------------------------------------------------------------ sundance oceans striate over the globe you ferment you ripen you follow the stream to the mouth to the soft delta i dream on your fingers the fingers opening at your mouth the sands sing the salt water flows into my veins--- painless, like light you dream open and wandering like the fractaling ripples of a seascape your horizon pulls me like the moon gravity--pearl quicksand depths of energy ------------------------------------------------------------ luscious dreams slip into my throat climbing over your walls, i imagine pools of blood glistening with effervescent waves of color ------------------------------------------------------------ Transition(09/03/03) A break in the blue sky waterfall of cold breath opens like a child onto the autumn fields your summer comes like a hot rash-- wet and swollen and sometimes enjoyable in the depths of heat--and leaves creepingly, subtly, but fooling no one yet every year manages to be gone suddenly out the back door before anyone notices. Current Music: periphery (Comment on this)
Friday, February 3rd, 2006
3:08 am	stream of conscious insomnia one poem written all at once, then i chopped it up and gave each little part cute titles. nothing smart. just regurgitating so i can hopefully get to sleep. i. fluid air the corporeal dusk drains onto the pavement like the etiolated summer skins of cloudy tunnel days tar marsh fumes rise black amongst the ochre light pouring from the thick quartz air. ii. i come across you lying in the road you, injured bust you opal flame, languid mulling like yellow fox tails lapping up your eyes like stolen fishes. cramped callow wings fold over your drift----you, lying there. you, charcoal eyes, large swallowing pupils. i stutter. my feet come crashing down above me and like a gypsum weed you grow from inside, the sternum, growing up and out a tightening underneath the ribs. iii. i dream of many hers from the jagged orange of this corporeal dusk i mount the womb-like glow of a dragon who, frozen in time, in the white womb of silk carries me across the stark savage night ancient blisters burst from my head, and she who speaks with blue flame comes to me with clear stars in her hand. i fall again, this time crimson and full of membranous spheres puckering with viscous waters i crash naked into a mountain of blood my hands warped i try to fly with the stubs of former wings leaking marrow from the bones. iv. trying to break free in the child rises a demon whispers of chains bulging and ripping under the skin, iron centipedes crawling over and through the muscles. in the demon rises a ghost like an incorporeal sun a heavy star of knives imploding from the sternum and screaming and shrieking through the forest of bones a rough caterwaul of grinding. v. a mystical experience in the soiled pocket of night, a glimpse a mountain of semen, all the fluids of sex and birth and eternity---dreams of eternity boil up from the bottom of my mind a dark visceral pool, how endless? how many lives down to the very bottom? in this hazy state, bewilderment is like an avalanche chaos and only a heavy awareness of a moon somewhere far above outside this static and snow how much blood drips from that moon? or is it from the taste in my mouth, merely the subjective wraith of my body? entranced and rigid, there is no comfort in the silence between raindrops, no pattern in the music of this raging storm. only the eternal flat line. (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, December 15th, 2005
12:55 am	"electric memory phase" midnight the emir lumbers by staunch and naked wind blisters the cold haunch unforgettable twilight iron barbells lumber out my eyes rainbow blisters the cold ocean unforgivable midnight with beer and spiced wine your haunch vibrates under my teeth blistering eyes shine from your unforgettable lumbering caterwaul exactitude points speckle grey twilight white sheets billow translucent foam and skin translation quivers fog swims over your staunch river of snow river of wine silence blisters emirate midnight is cold with barbell darkness heavy moonlight lonely spiced teeth drips of ochre beer foam off the darkness foam off the beast it’s like a strange ocean overflew its banks and crumbled into the naked spears of longing fervent midnight chrome frenzies i camp on the shores and overflow my veins with fervent chrome spears longing for strange orgy, i’m absent. excellent pastries. tantalizing semen. pillars and empires and strange fulcrums wrest the story in infinite moments-unique and many. spiders hang in their web and christians hallucinate in the body of you the meditation is an unfolding bloom your lotus is the inchoate remembrance in the angst of a foreign crown we’re reminded and clamber to your shore one bleeding mouth after another a procession of teeth sinking into your haunch prayer navigation blessed erection blessed fog blessed crimson wave of flesh in the silent blisters i am drowned in cells droplets and tears and you fathoms of you shores of you pulses of you -written today I must say, the title is hardly original, taken from steve reich's "electric guitar phase." i would hate to be accused of plagarism. i started writting with the idea of the musical piece: start with a theme and rework it in a sort of stream of conscious way and just see where it takes you. anyway, this is completely uneditted, so likely to be a major piece of crap, but maybe later i'll actually come back and like pieces of it. i don't usually prefer to have repeated *important* words, such as "fervent", whereas i don't mind repeating less weighty words such as "you", but i thought i would try it out to see if i can make it work. i've tried it in this past and haven't liked the results, but i still like the idea, and WANT to FORCE it to work, damnit! :P also, the shift in the middle is just a product of laziness. i like the form of the first half, but it was holding up my stream of consciousness, trying to stay within that form. i'm not sure what i think of that...hmm...whatever, not like this matters to anyone but me. Current Music: steve reich: tokyo/vermont counterpoint (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, December 4th, 2005
12:20 pm	i've been looking for this poem forever, and just ran accross it while looking throught the files on my usb memory card thingy that i haven't looked through for a year or so (there's no title as yet - sorry): the derelict trunk of a deceased tree stands withing the living expressions of a forest, it’s shaggy surface soft and moist and brittle like a rigid sponge of memory reinforcing a skeleton, to remind its former tenants what a beautiful view it gave and how lightly one could glide from its branches into the cool verdant depths; its surface is never bare for long-- eagle wings of sunlight soar down its lithe length, feeding the pastel coral-green of moss that circumvents its now invisible bark, illuminating this sublime shrine to survival. like bees hovering around the maddening scent of sage, life blooms about death with revitalizing decay, fungi dissect the woody flesh with probing pale mycelium brown fibers melt into a viscous oozing liquid, larvae burrow through the roots; the scent of ozone and perpetually moist earth wafts from the trunk, undulating in the breeze, like the tattered ends of a feathery luminescent blue veil. patiently, respectfully the earth undresses the puzzle, conserving latent energies, redistributing dormant particles, until daphne lies naked and free in the black soil, exhumed from stasis by the benevolent mother spirit. 2003 sometime (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, November 28th, 2005
1:31 am	happiness is a warm plaid shirt and the carpet under your toes is bleeding ephemeral truth as the arab hardens his steel in my heart this antique radio explodes in my face --------------------------------------------------- inspired by dahl and blake: the lamb/worm closes his fruit the firmament/peach-flesh is solid hidden in the moist cushions the cloud people are too far to damage. Current Music: pixies-doolittle (Comment on this)
Thursday, November 3rd, 2005
4:37 pm	the atom of the natural numbers thanks, adam, for the guidance. ( testing. 2..3...5.. ) (7 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, September 11th, 2005
8:35 am	wow, look at the time. and i've already been up for two hours! this is quite unheard of. well, i'm trying to prepare for when school starts. i want to bike and bus to school, which, being a two hour bus trip, is going to require me to be up this early at least three days a week. i should probably start looking for some part time work too. i really really don't want to work...it's not so much the labor that i hate as it is the risk of being accountable to someone who is not neccessarily going to respect me. i guess everybody runs that risk. but it seems like there are certain occupations in which the risk is lower, or at least you are equiped with suitable ammunition to combat any kind of disrespect. the part time retail crap is definitely on the lower rung of such jobs. i guess it sort of makes sense: less responsibility = less respect. but no, that does not make sense. that is certainly not a moral approach to the job place in my book. anyway, now i have to figure out what to do for the rest of the day. normally i sleep half the day, so i'm used to fitting everything in to a shrunken time slot. now i have all this time! sheesh. what do most people do during the day? oh yeah, waste away at a job. :P i can't get this to download on myspace, but here it is here, finally! this is from my ghost town adventure in august: (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, September 2nd, 2005
12:24 am	every once in a while i have a light bulb, which is really just a realization that there is no bulb i have a hard time confronting truths about myself, specifically when a friend points that out to me. i'm not talking about "bad" things--those are easier to deal with. i think "bad" things are just concentrated refined architypes that no one person can ever wholly be, which makes them easy things to rationalize through. obviously, if someone calls you on a "bad" thing, they don't know the whole situation or they're just upset or they're not really a good friend...whatever. you see? that's reletively convincing, at least to the mind that is attempting to rationalize. but when you're confronted with a truth about yourself there is no rationalization that does not appeear wispy and translucent when babbling off in front of an obvious truth. not that it's a bad thing--i think it's important to be reminded of the subconscious ways that we present ourselves to other people--but i think i am irked sometimes because these truths about ourselves are often presented as absolutes, which suggests, i think, that these truths are thing with which we are meant to identify our is-ness with. i shun identifying myself with any kind of abstract concept or process of learned behavior or any other kind of "truth about ourselves" whether it be fault or virtue (though the later is certainly easier to accept). i think i see these visible aspects of myself as being a poor litmus test for the invisible components of who i really am. when i die, or when anyone dies, and someone asks: "who was levi?" "well, he was a kind intellegent man. a loner who sometimes wanted to please people too much. etc. etc." it's like a horoscope. so many people identify so easily with astrology, but all they are, and all any attempt is to describe who a person is, is a string of architypes and cliches, even artfully woven together sometimes. who i am, or who anyone else is, can never be described through words. we are not a series of words and ideas and actions. we are something else. something divine and possibly more utterly simple than we can imagine. i don't think we can get to know anyone except through spending time with them, and even then it takes a lifetime to even mostly know someone. that is, if there is some kind of healthy dependency between the two people. anyway, here's something i wrote today on the side of the road (disclaimers: don't know what to title it, and it's also completely unrevised): in the begining there was a time in and of itself like a point, the rythms we cling to and worship were inverted upon themselves the stars the atoms the hollow vastness of life the eons of space between the nucleus and the electron shell helium, fusion, the slime of life dreams of imposible dimensions in an impossible consciousness who remains in the irrational point? what continues in the abscence carrying on her shoulders the windows of obscurity? is memory indestructable? is memory the sun that melts away the scramble of infinity? Current Mood: i'm sitz a duch Current Music: animals, suns, and atoms - tarwater (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 23rd, 2005
4:17 pm	i found these in my dad's office the other day. i thought they were just boring until i realized what they were: my first train ride! this was on a line from nashville to chicago, summer of '99 or '00...i can't remember. it was a great first train: we got to chicago in two days! god, i look like such a hippee! hee hee...oh, i just realized i think these last two were taken on a different train. i think probably the one that took us out of chicago into wisconsin, minesota, and eventually fargo, north dakota. looking at these pictures, i'm kind of angry at myself for not going. i know andrew was looking forward to going too. it's fine though. life happens, and this summer other things got in the way. the only time i would have gone is when the math lab closed this month, and i thought i would be working well into september then, until i gave adam those extra hours. by then it was too late. plans were made and took the place of more distant plans. geez...those double stacks look so nice though.... well, i'm on a less experiential journey right now through 12th century europe, turkey and the middle east, and looks like we'll be going into persia today too with louis l'amor's classic "the walking drum." yeah, i'm a slow reader, but that's only 'cause i stop reading for long periods. i think first i need to water some plants...i think i feel more affinity for plants than i do animals. to put it in a way that totally ruins my point, i'd rather be in a forest with no animals than in a dirt field full of animals. hehe, don't worry smith! i'll still feed the family before i water the plants! :P Current Music: daisy purring (13 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, August 4th, 2005
11:36 pm	weird things happen when you have an old, disfunctional camera. Current Music: andres segovia - complete bach recordings (22 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, July 7th, 2005
11:21 pm	ridin' my high horse on the open range i decided to see just how american i could get. i'm not sure about the political background of the test, but it's interesting that a higher percentage went to answers that imply ignoring the constitution and international law. now, i'm sure you get points for baseball and american cheese, but the main points were added for things like outlawing certain freedoms and being bullheaded and beligerantly alone internationally. is this really what it means to be american? are those the actions of a patriot? to put the voice of a large portion of the populace in chains? to ignore moral arguments for the red herring of "the president is always right?" well, i'm not sure if that's really american. it might be what the conscious of this nation is, but if there were principles that our country was founded on, from the little i've read, i don't think this is what they were. sure, we were founded upon libertarian ideals. the individual is supreme, and the money that that individual already had was very precious, but there was always a moral disclaimer, and a respect for the individuals who died to free us from the tyranny of royalty. to forget these moral foundations, and to call wars waged devoid of a moral cause "heroic" i think is very un-american. anyway, the people who made this test were either making a statement, or they are in line with the same immoral people who sent our troops into afghanistan and iraq on a pretense of lies. You Are 92% American You're as American as red meat and shooting ranges. Tough and independent, you think big. You love everything about the US, wrong or right. And anyone who criticizes your home better not do it in front of you! How American Are You? Current Music: jeff buckley (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, July 5th, 2005
5:59 pm	i don't get it.... ...the half naked chik, that is. the %16...now that i understand. actually, i didn't like the test, 'cause when it asked what i prefer eating, there were no vegan options! i bet it wouldn't change the score all that much. :P seriously though. i do like my country. but, either we're going through our terrible 2's, or we have no more room to grow and it's all gone to shit. i think i'm gonna start driving around with a shotgun in my trunk, an american flag on my antenna, and trippy 60's rock music constantly blaring out my open window. damn. i need a truck. You Are 16% American You're as American as Key Lime Tofu Pie Otherwise known as un-American! You belong in Cairo or Paris... Get out fast - before you end up in Gitmo! How American Are You? Current Music: students sighing over their math (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, June 6th, 2005
11:42 pm	i've been trying to find this damn poem for the longest time, and it turns out it's been sitting in the back of my car in a puddle of wine growing mold on it. i could still read it, but damn, it's so not worth the wait. i don't like it as much as i thought i did, even after a little revision. i wish i could find the most obscene poem that i've ever written. i bet i'd still like that...'cause i'm all evil now and what not. whatever- i'm still as fucking doe-eyed as ever, just bitter about it :P man, there is this stupid kid working in the math lab this term: he really gets on my fucking nerves: c****s or something like that. everytime i see him, whether it's from 2 or 100 feet he has to say hi to me and ask me some dumb ass question. i think he knows and enjoys the fact that it annoys the hell out of me, 'cause he's kind of one of those people who enjoys the fact that he annoys the hell out of everyone around him, and he gets louder everytime. anyway, enough venting, here's my poem: the sphere at the bottom of the ocean i am walking through an orange grove down a green carpet–at a large intersection i turn left–i run for hundreds of miles my panting in good slow rhythm with the incessant uniformity of my legs–i hear soft breaking and snapping, like fallen cities, each time my feet land and every three and a half i breathe out–one two, in, three and a half, out–my eyes are red glass olives with wide black pits and they see nothing but the trees and the path and the sky merged into a tunnel going on and on like an endless telephone wire. on this sempiternal day, this changeless jog, i stop. i look up and see millions of miles away green billowing smoke. i look down and see a well worn path of mud. the realization comes like a wind– the green smoke are trees and i am traveling inside a sphere. i take a left, double the time, walk for two hours, turn, walk for four hours, turn walk for eight hours turn so that i am spiraling, encompassing the sphere. i leave the path. under the blue shades of the trees there is a thing called night–it is peaceful as halcyons. fruit bows down from the limbs while i lay in the mist of stars. next to the dew-pond lying between the roots, i wash the fruit of sunlight. its skin is velvet and leathery, leaving yellow scales across my palms. its flesh soft and orange spurting perfume into my face. membranous sylphs spring from my pours, licking me clean of scales and moisture– i go naked and swim in the dew, and dry hanging from the bark. into a sleep i fly to the sun cradled in a thin breeze–picking more fruit deep within the leaves. i open the fibrous flesh, spraying luminescent-blue spirit, like electric water that stains my fingers like blackberry juice– it builds up under my fingernails and enters my blood stream through the capillaries–and i begin to glow, filled with elation–i am a lightning bug painting the interior lattice of branches with golden highlights. when i grow tired of basking in the dankness of these moist green caverns, i climb to the top and fly into the light above the canopy. 02/27/99 – revised (tried to salvage) 06/06/05 Current Music: aphex twin (Comment on this)
Saturday, June 4th, 2005
10:12 pm	the clouds carry our name anxiously i climb down the various corridors empty fogs try to bring their effluvial nightmare into the calcium dome that i hide under i fall into the painful perceptions the fire licks my cornea white syrup pours down the smile ridges of my mouth the window lies dank in the boredom, blue streamer anti-ballistic wave of happiness gets sucked into the dust do you remember the fallen hero? how can we rationalize? how can we rationalize? how can we rationalize? it is again the jurassic echelon mr. tyrannosaurus takes the day but this is about me everything is about you and me and it’s the image inside of us it’s the love inside of us it’s the fall of rain on our forehead the transcription of pain into our open sweating pours like the tremulous earthquake i ripple you ripple in the ancient cavern death and transcendence ripples Current Music: elliot smith, zappa, clouddead, atmosphere, supersprite, etc (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, April 26th, 2005
8:28 pm	i've been slaving away...:) yay, some new pictures. i like the theme in these....i think i'd like to delve into it some more: emptiness, but particularly where people are supposed to be but aren't. it's a good place to start i think, which can lead to other more interesting, possibly original ideas. bus stop ominous freemont petrolace sprite and here's a couple random pics. the one of rabbit is actually infrared, but i was sick of trying to see through the 52mm 87 filter taped to my 72mm lens, so there is no filter. clouds moon rabbit darling (8 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, April 12th, 2005
2:40 pm	ouroboros a secret temple beneath moss covered foundations holds a flame, dull and painful, laps up cold and darkness scrapes its crystalline tongue against dripping stonework. a starfish extrudes its stomach into an ocean of creams i taste foul primordial pools of curdled liquids, stroke the mordant underbellies of sordid dragons. in nooks of driftwood and emerald sprays i wrap my tongue around salty flesh, enraptured and gorging until i stare at wild stars with undulating fire from my irises licking the sky. a secret temple under lighthouses and open arched buildings of sun and sunlight claims a brood of shadows; writhing claws and cyclopean limbs desiring with tenuous muscles popping tissues and moaning eyes, gluttonous breath takes in tepid air, rasp of skin rubbing against skin, where the body is sewn together, a mollusk full of sensors and spikes lambs bleating in guileless wonder for their mother's teat, the whole core of sex, hunger, mind's incessant ache to be filled, a bruise that is always healed and always injured, pure and avid want exudes infrared and gamma photons just outside perception. a child hides beneath the desk, lurks behind cabinets, trys to escape from bright lights of suspicion, infomercials and fat pills, demographic-targeting commercials. i hold a wet orange between two legs, guilty pleasures pulse over me-- between the blood beneath my skin and the blood coating my muscles–-a surge like blue plasma, electric-white light i can almost see squeezed from my pores like sweat, as if juice rolled from the crushed orange cells after taking a bite. all i can do to kill the postmodern daze numbing saline drip of static morphine media is bury my nose and tongue and eyes and ears and mouth and cheeks and nose and fingers and eyes and face and tongue deep and unforgiving into moist and pungent fibers in the darkness of fruit. i crouch there for fifteen minutes, though it seems like hours, so complete is my infatuation with sensation, and yet how ephemeral–to attempt this simple merger with a fruit rested on a concrete floor huddled amongst plastic facades, broken promises, images of empty women, bulbous men, the reek of decay fogging the air, living decay that hangs about the dead bones of walking demons. a secret temple within our hearts, confines a common poignant horrible and unquenchable burning for life. a worm an eel a boneless snake; the earth, the ocean the rustling grasses and rushes are so full of the interplay of life. to join i copulate, taste forbidden salts of skin, and to connect, leap with urgent longing into beaks of ravens battalions of shark teeth, talons beneath raptor eyes that beam down on my lithe body, gleaned pulses of blood red muscle murmurs beneath my scales. we share in the sweet victory as we rip through nerves, vessels savor with singing taste buds as we tear into the breath of lungs. Current Music: felix mendelson--symphony no. 1 in c minor (11 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, March 29th, 2005
1:27 am	the ocean and the cloud on her hands i trace my finger shadows dance across her skin the ceiling corners turn sepia the blacks drip like rain blankets drape over us like watercolors you were an ocean and i a lamb i climb down the streets tonight the sulphur lights tarnished with rain cloud the world in thick liquid bronze Current Music: elliot smith (2 Comments |Comment on this)