Light Ocean

they make clocks now that don’t tick
too fast—don’t even have hands.
they slow you down, and drag your feet
by the heels, where Thetis held Achilles.

and they slash through your dreams,
boiling up from a barren pit—the one
deeper than the back of your mind,
behind all the back burners, black
now with pitch and smoking remnants.

i was still going to eat them
but you had none of it. standing
in the white, gravel driveway facing
me and not me with your hands
cocked at your hips
in those acid-washed shorts.
i could have eaten you, then,
but you spoke words in me with your body
and left no thought unpunctuated.
i sensed disappointment in your joints
as you pressed into me, warm
and cold simultaneously.
“there’s no sense in arguing,”
i heard your vertebrae say.
and there wasn’t.

still, in the void between clock ticks—
that old metronome can’t keep me in time—
you were you and not you, and
every powdery face i ever counted
with closed, flickering eyes.
you pressed and my blood grew sentience
because i felt each cell’s thought
like a hivequeen.

and me with you, all my noisy blood
and all your pressing body, unrelenting,
i swept us out of dreamspace
into an ocean of light,
no hydrogen, no oxygen,
—waves lapped and foamed
on sandstone beaches where
that ticking clock is irrelevant
and i can call my own thoughts back,
like reeling in a fishless, baitless hook.
and you say, still pressing me:
“there’s no sense in arguing.”

Work in Progress Poem no. 10

“Anstatt”

a margin.
ink not dry—
dried and chapped nails,
tips of fingerprints.
and a gentle,
firm,
pressure onto paper.
forgetting the word
“instead”
auf Deutsch.

Heaven’s Enough

I drove you in the sun-stuck heated
front seat of my ’95 sedan
and kept each memory of that place
in a rusted, put-together file cabinet
where they still make and sell and
deep fry Mars bars.
It’s somewhere.

I keep the key on a pewter ring
in a different drawer—dusted-over,
unopened since the Sun was taught
to dawn. From there, I saw a man
crawling bearded through the gutter
painted as a monster from grime,
leftovers and throw-aways.
He clung with estranged,
probing digits thick around
a brown-bagged bottle.
I witnessed true fear that day.

I share it now, with you,
wind-sung hair blown back.
Reaching out to you,
with not only a hand
but with a plan to rest it
on your thigh.

Vermisse den Mittleren Westen.

Deutschland II

“Am bischofskreuz…”

is what I listen for on the tram. Sometimes I listen for “Stadttheater”, but that is when I am heading into town and going to class.  There are several stops between, but the ride itself is maybe only ten or so minutes. It makes me wish there were trams in the United States. Because we have trains (although, I’ve only ever used one as a passenger once and have yet to see one used as such–no, subways don’t count)… just not trams. At least in Indianapolis. Where we show the rest of the country how not to go about public transportation.

The sun seems much brighter in Freiburg. I wonder if I am any closer to it. I wonder if the air between it and me is less polluted. It seems like everyone in Germany smokes, though.

Today, during class we read aloud a story called “Billy’s Girl” about a boy who drowns and another boy who is making out with the drowned boy’s girlfriend. I think it’s one of the best short stories I’ve ever read. I also wrote my first attempt at flash-fiction:

“Memory”

Dick watched the thunder envelop the high blue skies, as wide as the green plains below. Black clouds like stampeding horses galloped across the vast expanse, followed by a stagnant, irrefutable anvil. Dick remembered Zeus from high school when his teacher assigned books from the Odyssey and thought of the bearded god striking the anvil when a surge of lightning clapped and scorched the earth.

A town’s length away, tornado sirens echoed to Dick’s ears and he wondered about going inside. The wind chimes his great grandfather carved clacked with a rush of wind.

The house in which he lived was small, but there was a cellar and a porch, where he stood now. Dick brought his hand to his brow and surveyed the landscape like a tactician plotting the next move. Only, there were no pieces for Dick. His appraisal of the situation was merely in gesture.

Inside, his baby girl slept soundly as she usually did in the afternoons.

After a while, when the sky has been erased by the thundering horses, specks of rain saturated the earth. Individual at first, then in the tens, and suddenly into the thousands.

Dick let the wet scent wash over him as it washed over the fields and the roof and the town five miles west, where the sirens were still blaring—even through the shush of the rain. It reminded him of every rain before, each one he had ever watched from this porch since his childhood.

He watched patches of green, yellow, and red dance across the old television when big ones rolled in… Listened to the emergency broadcast automation from the radio above the kitchen sink. But not today.

A bolt seared down from the clouds and struck near the house a ways down the street. Dick jumped before the krack-thoom rattled the windows and storm door of his own home.

No matter how many storms he sat through, their ferocity never faltered. That was how being a tactician against Mother Nature tended to work out. Or going against a God who smote the soil with each split of lightning. Each rain was the same and yet completely different and unpredictable. Dick had learned to both love and fear the smell of humidity when clouds formed on the horizon.

“Daddy, it’s raining.”

His daughter stood in the doorway rubbing an eye with the ball of her wrist.

“Yeah it is, baby girl,” he said. “Let’s go on in.”

After class we went out for pizza and ate it atop the truss of a bridge. Looking out to the south, you can see two wide mountains covered in black trees. Looking to the north, you can see the Hauptbanhof. To the west, two beautiful Kirche steeples. And to the east, the opera house and the rest of Freiburg. It’s quite the spot, actually… it’s where I realized my feet hurt when I’m up way high looking way down.

Deutschland I

Well, after a semi-traumatic experience in Switzerland (trains, man… how do they work?), I have made it to Germany and am loving the city of Freiburg. You can check out  all of the photos I’ve taken on Facebook, here: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150326175893454.391236.642028453&type=1

Europe is wildly different from the United States. I’m not well-versed enough in the pleasantries and differences, but it’s something that is better experienced than explained. The most peculiar thing I have noticed is that you hear literally everyone else speaking a different language from your own (even if you know enough of the language to get by) and it starts to infiltrate your thoughts. You start dreaming German sentences of dialog you don’t understand in your dreams about houses on mountainsides. You start realizing there were things in your life in the States that you took for granted.

I am excited to start my studies tomorrow with Kirk Nesset.  I’ve the utmost expectations from one of the finest Universities in Europe and I’m looking forward to getting some serious writing done.

Dream: Thirsty

A dull, white corridor. Decaying linoleum tiles, scarred dark with scuff marks. The tiles reflected the fluorescent lighting back into the dreary atmosphere. Yet it was familiar.

A few paces forward and around a corner I found a vending machine. There were people with money discussing, deciding, between the last few available drinks.

I needed to have something to drink. It was very important that I was not thirsty later on, so I had to drink something now.

My hand reached deep into my pocket and pulled out a single dollar bill. The others kept discussing their choices without noticing me.

There was hardly anything left, so I chose the one that would quench my thirst the best. A bright orange fluid contained in a clear bottle with a white wrapper.

I put the money in the slot and waited for my drink to vend.

Ka-chunk. The bottle was cold to the touch.

Finally, the other people in the room noticed my presence and a girl who looked about my age complemented me on my choice of drink.

“That’ll quench your thirst real good,” she said.

I nodded and unscrewed the lid and looked at my beverage. What had been a bright orange liquid now appeared dull and pulp-filled. The chill of the bottle was also gone, now. I gave it no thought, considering it to be even more thirst-quenching than before.

I raised the bottle to my mouth and tilted it as I began to chug the lukewarm fluid. The others cheered me on and as I drank the pulp began to disappear and before it was all gone, the liquid began to transform back into its original state, bright, clear, and cool.

When I finished, I exhaled and a feeling of lightheadedness overwhelmed me. I lost my balance, but caught myself on another vending machine. The others didn’t pay any notice to me and began making their own selections from the machine. More people started to enter the room as I slipped into unconsciousness.

I awoke in a friend’s basement, surrounded by two figures. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I realized who they were.

“You okay, Eric?” said one of them—a girl. Beth.

“Yeah.”

“I knew you were alright,” said Amir who disappeared up the stairs.

“Would you like some popcorn?” said Beth. “We’re just about to watch a movie.”

“No thanks,” I said. “I can’t be thirsty.”

“You won’t get thirsty.”

“Maybe later,” I said.

The basement was dull, like the vending machine room, except the walls were painted a soothing orange color and the floor was covered in thick shag rug. On one wall, an enormous plasma screen television hung quite proudly and heavy blankets scattered the floor beneath it.

“Lay with me?” said Beth, invitingly.

“I’ll just sit.”

I heard footsteps and assumed Amir would be joining us shortly so I sat beside Beth and wrapped myself in a comfortable blanket. The television turned itself on and began cycling through thousands of channels.

Someone ran downstairs but it was not Amir, it was a different friend of mine, Nikolai. I looked at him questioningly as he took a spot between Beth and I on the floor and covered himself up in a blanket.

“Do you think Amir will be mad that I am here?” he said.

“Yeah, I think he will,” I said.

And then I heard footsteps upstairs again, and I saw the scene of a hospital flash before my eyes.

Not the Cosmic To-Do List I’m Ignoring

Aaaah-choo. (Credit: ESO, Digitized Sky Survey 2 and Joe DePasquale)

I sneezed five times (so far) today. Once at 1:49am, twice at 10:14am, and twice again at 10:16am. Those instances, however, have had nothing to do with the rest of my waking presence in reality. Though, it’s fun to imagine each sneeze as an aftershock of the Big Bang. The projection of misty nose-and-mouth particles into the pollinated air is the death of a star in an endless cosm of stars.

I tried writing poems about the mysteries of the universe. I looked up ones that had already been written. They weren’t very good.

I feel the same as nebulae, sometimes. I scribble out a little something in an e-mail box and click “send” without determining a destination. I want it to go somewhere–to go anywhere and to just be. But then I receive an error message: “There must be at least one name or group in the To, Cc, or Bcc box.”

There must be. But there isn’t.

Mallory

Date this chart was completed: Saturday, April 09, 2011 – *SPOILERS HAVE BEEN REMOVED*

Character’s Full Name: Mallory Amelia Garland
Reason/Meaning of name: metonymic occupational name for a maker of garlands or chaplets, perhaps also a habitational name from a house sign. The word is first attested in the 14th century, from Old French, and appears to be of Germanic origin.
Nickname: Mal
Reason for nickname: Her friends in high school called her that.
Date of Birth: July 24^th, 1990
Astrological Sign: Leo

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Age: 20
Eye Color: Hazel
Hair color: Dark brown
Height: 5’10” / 177.8cm
Weight: 130lbs / 58.97kg
Type of body/build: Average
Nationality: Born American; English descent
Skin tone: Fair
Distinguishing Marks: Birthmark on the back of her neck, nose/lip rings
Scars: Several on her wrists from her teen years
Most predominant feature: She has a beautiful face/smile.
Accent: Midwestern

Is she healthy: For the most part, though she does have anemia
Physical disabilities: None
Physical abilities (what is character good at? sports, etc.): None, but she used to play softball

FAVORITES

Color: Red
Music: Food: Pasta dishes
Literature: Jonathan Safran Foer, Don DeLillo
Expressions: She’s very critical of others and tends to question peoples’ actions, “Are you serious?”
Book: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, and White Noise
Quote: “The power of the dead is that we think they see us all the time. The dead have a presence. Is there a level of energy composed solely of the dead? They are also in the ground, of course, asleep and crumbling. Perhaps we are what they dream.”
Expletives (swears): Any/all
Mode of transportation: Car, bus

HABITS

Smokes: Parliament Menthols, marijuana, (snorts) cocaine
How often: ½ pack a day, socially/with friends
Drinks: Burnette’s and Sprite
How often: Weekly, sometimes nightly
Worst bad habit: Chewing ice
Quirks: Pops her knuckles and back a lot

BACKGROUND

Hometown: Chicago, Illinois
Type of childhood: Unstable, lower-middle class, few close friends
First memory: Riding around in a tractor on her father’s lap
Most important childhood event that still affects her & why: The divorce of her parents; she went to live with her mom and grew up resenting her mother for separating her from her father.
Lower education: Fishers High School
Higher education: Ivy Tech Richmond
Book-smart or street-smart: Street-smart
Religion views and/or tendencies: Sort-of Christian
Firsts job: Humane Society – Kennel Cleaner
First kiss: With Jake Boehner in the 7^th grade; it was “too wet.”
First sexual experience: Lost her virginity to Lester Smith in her sophomore year of high school, it was “alright” for her first time.

FAMILY

Mother (name): Jessie Anne Palmer
Relationship with her: Mallory detests her mother and barely tolerates her
Father (name): Dolan Richard Garland
Relationship with him: Mallory misses her father but doesn’t talk to him anymore
Siblings: older sister, Jane Theresa Garland
Relationship with her: Tolerance; Jane reminds Mallory too much of their mother
Child of Sibling: Brady, 12 months old
Extended family (aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.): Uncle Thomas, Aunt Theresa, and cousin Bryan
Close to family?: No, not really.

OCCUPATION

Job: Hostess at Logan’s Roadhouse for two years
Relationship with co-workers: Tolerance, she thinks they’re mostly dumb, but enjoys them occasionally.
Attitude towards job: She hates it but continues to go there to receive a paycheck.
Dream job: Professional singer

ATTITUDE

Greatest fear: Being/dying alone
Worst thing that could happen to her?: For her to be alone; friendless
What single event would most throw character’s life in complete turmoil?: Losing a source of income or being arrested

Character is most at ease when: She’s drunk/high and surrounded by friends
Most ill at ease when: She’s in a sexual encounter with someone other than Lester, in really tight/enclosed spaces

Priorities: Make enough money to move to New York and work on her singing/performing career
Philosophy: Love always comes first

How she feels about self: She is very self-critical and is constantly comparing herself to others
Past failure she would be embarrassed to have people know about: She failed her first driving test.
If granted one wish, what would it be?: To be an established, professional singer

Daredevil or cautious?: Daredevil
Same when alone?: No, she tends to be quieter and more reserved when she’s alone.

Biggest accomplishment: Moving out of her mother’s house
Minor accomplishments: Graduating high school with an honors diploma (and a 3.4 GPA); she was also accepted into Columbia University, but couldn’t attend due to lack of financial aid

Character’s darkest secret:
Does anyone else know? Her immediate family
If yes, did character tell them?

PERSONALITY

Greatest source of strength in character’s personality (whether she sees it as such or not): The harsh style of her mother’s child-rearing led her to be an independent girl who is used to being faced with challenges and finding ways of overcoming them.
Greatest source of weakness in character’s personality (whether she sees it as such or not): She acts based on her emotions rather than logical reasoning. This often gets her into trouble.

Character’s soft spot: She has a soft spot for the homeless
Is this soft spot obvious to others?: Not really, but if it came up, she wouldn’t deny it
Biggest vulnerability: She’s most vulnerable when around Lester, because she is secretly still in love with him.

Which of the 7 deadly sins does character fight (or give into, willingly or not)?
She fights gluttony, envy, and pride, but often succumbs to envy and pride. She developed an eating disorder in her teen years that sort of fizzled out as she matured—now she eats healthily. She also succumbs to lust and her greedy desires a fair bit. She has been known to be wrathful in times of great stress.

Which of the 7 virtues does your character have (or fight against)?
She is not chaste or abstinent, but she has kindness and humility in her heart. And she is diligently (although, not entirely patiently) pursuing her dream of becoming a professional singer.

TRAITS

Optimist or pessimist: Whichever suits her needs at the time
Myers-Briggs: ENFJ (Extraverted Intuitive Feeling Judging)

Drives and motivations: She is driven by her desire to help others and to fulfill her own dreams
Talents (hidden or not): She is a talented performer
Extremely skilled at: Singing, drawing, keeping track of things
Extremely unskilled at: Swimming, running, maintaining her balance
Good characteristics: creative, passionate, helpful
Character flaws: untrustworthy, not a good leader, lusty
Peculiarities: Prone to crying

SELF-PERCEPTION

One word character would use to describe self: protean
One paragraph description of how character would describe self:

What does Mallory consider her best physical characteristic?: Her face
What does character consider her worst physical characteristic?: Her thighs
Are these realistic assessments?: Yes, she is pretty honest with herself about her appearance, though her thighs are not as fatty as she believes them to be
How Mallory thinks others perceive her?: Generally, she believes she is liked—except by other straight girls. She thinks straight girls dislike her for some unknown reason.

What four things would Mallory most like to change about self?
1. She would like to be thinner
2. She would like for her scars to disappear
3. She would like for her dimples to disappear
4. She wishes her hair was easier to manage

If change #1 was made, would character be as happy as she thinks?: Yes, because she thinks Lester would be more attracted to her.

INTERRELATION WITH OTHERS

Has character ever cheated on any significant other?: Yes, but she was drunk so she doesn’t count it as “cheating.” This happens fairly often.
How does character relate to others? She claims to like others, but is actually quite reserved when meeting people. She’s reluctant to open up to others with whom she is unfamiliar

How is she perceived by…
Strangers? as an attractive, helpful young girl.
Friends? as a great friend who is always there for them.
Lover? as an incredible lover who is very skilled in bed and supremely affectionate/supportive.
Co-workers? as the strange, quiet girl who only shows up for a paycheck.
Protagonist? as
Antagonist? as

First impression character makes is: She is a kind, helpful girl.
What happens to change this perception? She becomes obsessive, although still helpful. Once her dream is unable to be realized, she wants to help Lester achieve his own goals and rekindle something with him.

What do family/friends like most about character? Her willingness to help others.
What do family/friends like least about character? Her tendency to say “like” too much, and to cry too much.

GOALS

Immediate goal(s): Graduate from college
Long range goal(s): Move to New York and become a singer
How does character plan to accomplish goal(s)? She knows it will take lots of hard work, and she believes that she’s willing to do whatever it takes to fulfill her dreams. But perhaps she isn’t.
How will other people around character be affected? They would be largely unsurprised. They know she is a good singer and are just waiting for her to “make it.”

PROBLEMS/CRISIS

How does Mallory react in a crisis? She feigns calmness for as long as she can before succumbing to extreme anxiety attacks/panic. She also leans heavily on substance abuse to “get her through.”
How does Mallory face problems? Typically, she reacts before thinking—using her heart as a guide instead of logic. If her initial approach yields no success, however, she then thinks things over.
Kinds of problems character usually runs into: Not being able to pay the rent/bills,
How does character react to NEW problems? Anxiety attacks.
How does character react to change? She is very adaptive and meets changes with optimism, though that can wear out quickly.

GENERAL

Jewelry: Lots of Native-American themed jewelry; indigo
Other accessories: lip/nose/ear rings
Car: 2-door Maroon ’92 Honda Civic
Where does character live?: In an apartment in Richmond, IN
With anyone?: Yes, with her girlfriend, Janice
Where does character want to live?: New York City, NY
Spending habits (frugal, spendthrift, etc)?: She tends to buy things she “wants” rather than things she needs, leaving her in tight spots before she gets her paychecks.
What does she do too much of?: Substance abuse
Too little of?: Healthy exercise
Most prized possession (and why): Her journals, because that is where she records everything.
Play musical instrument?: Yes
Which one(s)?: Piano, guitar
How did she learn?: Took piano lessons, self-taught herself guitar
Does character like animals? Yes
Any pets? A cat named Gerald

TECHNICAL

Owns a computer?: Yes, it’s a very old desktop
Email address: xXgreenergrassXx@hotmail.com
Uses for computer: Mostly for school work and social networking
Play computer games? Yes, Solitaire and Hearts
List 3 online site(s) (URLs) visited daily:
1. facebook.com
2. youtube.com
3. amazon.com

UNCATEGORIZED

Person character secretly admires:
Person character was most influenced by: Lester Smith
Most important person in character’s life before story starts (and why): Her girlfriend, Janice Burke, because she is very supportive of Mallory and has always been there for her.

–

There are still a few blank spaces, but I feel I’ve made a lot of progress on this character. I really didn’t know who she was until this. I need to finish up Josie and Lester before I continue on with the manuscript. I hit an embarrassing brick wall when I didn’t know how my characters would react in a certain situation… Character profiling is exhausting work.

Response from Poetry magazine

[ submission successfully received ]

Dear Eric,

Thank you for your submission. You can check the status of your submission at any time by visiting https://submissions.poetrymagazine.org and logging into your account. Our current response time for submissions is approximately eight weeks.

P.S. You don’t need to click on the link to your file in the system after you submit your work- it’ll be fine. If you do click on it, be advised that it may not display properly on your computer, though it will look fine on our end. This is a glitch we’re working to fix.

POETRY magazine

Visit Poetry magazine online at:

http://www.poetrymagazine.org/

–

Well, that was pretty stressful. I suppose in eight weeks we’ll know what kind of response I get. This is my first A-list publication submission. I spoke with Dr. Sutherlin today about how I should go about submitting my work to be published. Here’s what I’m thinking for the others:

No. 2, Puerto Del Sol
No. 3, Beloit Poetry Journal
No. 4, The Missouri Review
No. 5, The Written Word
No. 6, Tipton Poetry Journal

It’s obvious that I need to do some more research on regional poetry journals. If anyone has any suggestions for me, I would be very appreciative. EDIT: I came up with a list… boom goes the dynamite.

In terms of things I’ve actually written today… I’m continuing work on some character profiles for a novel I’ve started working on. It’s the first time I have ever really filled out (with some seriousness) a character profile. So, yeah.

I’m Actually Doing It

I told myself I’d never do it, but here I am. Sitting in Starbucks. Writing on my laptop. Posting on my blog. I don’t care what the old version of me thinks, though. He was wrong. This isn’t pretentious or douchey… Okay, it’s a little douchey, but I’m doing it to establish an online “presence” as a writer. To keep myself sharp and to force myself to sit down and write every day. So the posts contained herein will be far from flawless. They will, however, be testament to my dedication/commitment to writing.

I’m looking for honest feedback and readers. Most of the writing contained herein will be prose pieces. Sci-fi pieces. Drafts, excerpts, and ideas. Nothing too terribly serious (yet). Just trying to get my feet wet with this whole blogging thing (which I used to dismiss as nonsense). Though, I do look pretty ridiculous right now. Perched at the Starbucks on campus, eying passers-by like a disdainful hawk, wondering if there is enough money in my bank account to grab a bite to eat in a few minutes whenever I finish up here. Oh, yeah. And my legs are crossed in that girly way–you know the one they do. But hey, it’s comfortable.

Speaking of comfort, there was another earthquake in Japan today. It would be nice to get the following link some genuine traffic:  https://fs16.formsite.com/paybyweb/form299/secure_index.html