Jason Rimbaud
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Posts posted by Jason Rimbaud
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Okay, lets see. One hundred dollars a pop, carry the one, times the four.
Damn, I'm no good at math.
Seeing as your an Emu, I'll take a one dollar bill and photo copy it 40,000 times. And since your English, you'll never know the difference.
Jason R.
PS: If you can give me your address, I'll send it right out to you along with the bronze statue. Of course you might have a shipping fee to pay, just take it out of your winnings.
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Wow, Camy, way too much free time on your hands. You actually went out and searched for pictures. This is probably the funniest thread I've ever read. So for the first time ever, I am handing you a Crazy-Ass Emu award. Not to be confused with a grammy or oscar, the Crazy-Ass Emu award is a step above. Seriously, you should be quite flattered and even go as far as writing a speech to accept such an award. And don't forget to tell your relatives and co-workers about said award. And because its you, I'll throw in twenty-thousand pounds of my own money to go along with the bronze statue.
Jason R.
PS: How much exactly is twenty-thousand pounds in American dollars? Should I start selling my body now to make up the difference?
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I know I'm off topic and everything, but I remember a time when Writebymyself would never sign a post with the nickname of Wibby. And now, we must do as wibby says. Makes me wonder what is really going on in the world.
Jason R.
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Um Des,
Every time Wibby finds an article about emus and such, Camy always tries to play it off, blaming it on this cousin or that younger brother. Methinks Camy is trying to confuse us, placing the blame on another Emu instead of admitting his own mistakes. I find this behavior quite suspicious and believe that each of us Awesome Dudes need to keep a closer eye on this damned crazy ass emu.
Jason R.
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So Camy is Mryon, and he likes to shop at Wal-Mart. For some reason, this doesn't fit with what I first pictured the emu to be like. Somehow I'm disappointed.
Jason R.
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Thanks Trab and Camy,
I hope this works, I'll let you know if I can figure it out.
jason r.
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How can I post a picture in the main body of my blog entry? And if it makes a difference, it's a picture that I painted in the program, PAINT.
Thanks
Jason R.
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Intrinsic
By: Jason R.
Though I am fascinated by your mouth
I can live without your false words
When your eyes are open I can see the fear
Your breath comes in gasps as you struggle to exist
There is a lack of understanding behind your gaze
This is the cause and effect of your fading beliefs
The lapses of judgment that evolve into anger
The point of origin is lost in your brutal acceptance
You attack and destroy all attempts of change
While ignoring the reality of your own mistakes
Letting others affect you until hatred consumes
All the while claiming happiness is in the act of sex
Indifference is the only weapon you possess
And happiness is your only inner conflict
Drama is your only ally
And manipulation is your only friend
That smile that you paint on your face
Is nothing but Chameleon colors fabricated for the world
And it is the answer to bury the emotion of your pain
For restless dreams haunt you unless properly medicated
You search for the sky in arms and beds of strangers
Embracing the darkness and the shadows of the moon
Even as you claim exuberance to search for the sun
And yet you are sad and you are always alone
This poem is probably the most honest thing I have ever written.
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Lateral Guilt
By: Jason R.
You are the place I?ve stayed too long
Our vocal battles always ended in drama
But I learned about spoons and candles
About justifying addictions
By using my body as a weapon
You push me away
Even as you reach out blindly
For my touch to comfort you
Yet you sell your body for money
I guess being a stone
Protects your fragile mind
With denial
I want to be unfeeling
I want to be a stone
I want to be you
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Hey Graeme,
One of my favorite author's once said, "There is nothing new to write about." or something to that effect. If that is the case, then none of us can ever write anything new or original. So it falls on us to use something that has been done before, but put our own spin on it. If you can think of an idea around a car accident, and the characters are believable as well as the plot, then your story will work. I do think we should know all the rules of writing, and I also think if you know the rules, then you know when to break them. Knowing the type of story you usually tell, I don't think you should have a problem.
That being said, whatever changes comes about due to this car accident, try to devise a way to make that same change happen without using the car wreck as a plot device. I would personally try to exhaust all other ideas before going back to a car wreck. Though to give you something else to think about, I've been involved in three accidents, two of my best friends have been in a major car accident, and a cousin of mine died in a car accident. So car accidents do happen, and they change so many lives when they do. Just my two paragraphs of thought.
Jason R.
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I wonder
My birthday is on 26th of January, and Australia celebrates it's national holiday on the same day.
So that must mean, in reality, Australia celebrates my birthday.
Thanks for the well wishes
Jason R.
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Ummmmmm...Camy........Emu's don't howl.
*checks tape of awesome emu sounds*
Yep, Emu's don't howl.
Are you really an Emu?
Jason R.
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Yes Gabe. This is the first in a series of Unsent letters I'll be posting over the next few months in the poetry forums and in my blog. (shameless plug) The idea of exploring my past in this manner intrigues me. I know I have several unsent letters over the years, and maybe, with this new thing called "internet", some of them might be delivered to the right parties.
Jason R.
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And to think we call ourselves civilized.
*hangs head in shame*
The only problem with humanity is....humans
Jason R.
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Unsent Letter to Jessica
By: Jason R.
If I could, I would gladly heal your pain
If I could, I would lay your head on my shoulder
If I could, I would love you more than I love myself
If I could, but we both know I can't
If I could, I would paint the sky blue for you
If I could, I would write a sonnet with you in mind
If I could, I would scream my love from the rooftops
If I could, but we both know I won't
If I could, I would have told you I was gay
If I could, I would act like an adult and admit my mistakes
If I could, I would take back the way you found out
If I could, but we both know I can't
If I could, I would never return to Nola's
If I could, I would tell everyone that you broke my heart
If I could, I would lie and say I'm sorry
If I could, but we both know I won't
If I could, I would never have fucked you...twice
If I could, I would take it all back
If I could, I would make you forget me
If I could, but we both know I can't
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"What is filled with holes yet still holds water?"
My guess is a sponge.
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Hey Camy,
I've been listening to your songs and I must say, I really like Ancient. What a vivid picture this song paints. And your vocals, haunting and almost filled with self-loathing. Like you know what the most important thing is but you know you'll never find it. I like this very much.
With the song Courage, I love the flute solo, very powerful.
At first I wasn't sure where Happiness was going at first, but then the lyrics kicked in. Very surreal for me, almost like a dream.
I won't bore you by giving you a rundown of your songs, but I really like this side of you. More than just listening to you read poetry, though it's cool to put a voice to this crazy Emu we all love.
Makes me wonder if I'll ever hear H.R.S.A again. (hint, hint)
Jason R.
PS: Mental Anguish reminds me a bit of vintage INXS, like your channeling Mr. Hutinchson. Very cool.
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I won't always say this, only after a few bottles of wine, but I really love the way you speak, probably your accent, and in the morning, while staring into my lovers eyes, I'll deny that I ever wrote/said this, but right now, with wine on my breath and blood in my cock, Camy, you are sexy.
Jason R.
PS: Can someone fall in love with an accent? And if so, will it last?
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I have really enjoyed following this topic. And though it seems to have come down to personal preferences, this thread IS posted in the writers workshop. And by reading the different replies, I can readily see that many have definate opinions about 1st or 3rd person POV's. I would think any newer author would benefit from reading this thread. These posts are like having a direct link into one's intended audience. What better way for a writer to better his skills then by finding out what the majority wants.
Not that I think you should write what others want you to write, but listen, or as in this case, read what others are saying about the POV's and learn from this advice. Personal preferences aside, The Pecman, Cole, and others are really saying, learn the rules so you can know when to break them. Don't sit down at the computer and just start typing willy nilly, take the time to learn from those that have probably made these same mistakes early on. The worst thing a writer can do is frustrate his audience. If more people shy away from mutiple POV's, find a way to tell your story either using a single POV or 3rd person. After all, wait until you have that best seller before you write your master piece epic novel using ten seperate POV's switching back and forth between them like you are some kind of queer Cybil Sheppard without meds.
Then again, what the hell do I know. I read Arthur Rimbaud's A Season In Hell on a weekly basis, so I love being frustrated.
Jason R.
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And You Know
By: Jason R.
You called me up on the phone today
It was a struggle to find the words to say
They say time can heal all the wounds
But I?ve been sick since before the womb
And you know
I?m not the one that you once knew
That lonely kid all alone in school
I?ve made a new life accepted it all
I embraced the name you wrote on the wall
And you know
When my father died I stole his last breath
I was addicted to lust and flirting with meth
My first trick was a boy with your face
A suicidal thing with a beautiful taste
And you know
Confronted my mother about the sins of the past
Screamed at a tombstone about death too fast
Wrote a thing or two about a boy named John
Accepted the fact that most of me is wrong
And you know
The question I ask is why the years of lies
I know you liked me in between your thighs
Each night you might lie next to your wife
But I bet you miss me and our secret life
And you know
In the end I guess I?m finally doing fine
I?ve leveled out and reasoned the rhyme
Next to me lies a boy I call best friend
But if the time was right I?d fuck you again
So now you know
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The thing I love most about poetry: the meaning of any given piece varies on the reader and that readers experience throughout life. Which is why with this single piece, already three or four readers have gotten at least two different meanings. Though I tend to agree with the "straight one" of the mail crew version
, I think Trab's interpretation is valid as well. In the end, whether you take the morning after pill or watch a close friend take an overdose to end the suffering, the meaning is the same. Regret, bitter sweet victory, and the always inevitable what-if scenario.Gabe, from your recent poetry posts, I have a feeling that life has been very interesting for you lately to say the least. But then that's what I've always loved about life, if you aren't learning anything, you aren't growing as a person, as a man, or a human being. Either way, I love your recent work and think, If I'm right, we have lots more of good stuff to come from you in the future.
Jason R.
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I like this as well. The last stanza speaks volumes.
"It's you
You're the only one I want
Not a body
Or an idea"
Once, long ago, I fell in love with a girl. And though she returned that love, it was hard for her to wrap her mind around the idea of me sleeping with boys before her. I tried to explain that it didn't matter about which parts she had or didn't have, but in the end, we broke up. I tihink you captured what I tried to tell her all those years ago. I loved her, not her body or the idea of being straight. Very powerful piece that spoke directly to my emotions. Loved this, really did.
Jason R.
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Hey TR
When I read your reply, I realized what I had said. I meant, I haven't been happy
with my poetry either lately and that I could understand your.......frustration if you
will.
This is just another example why I should never write somethig and post right away.
No matter how many times I proof read, I always mess it up. SORRY TR.
ANd I mean I'm really happy to have you back in the forums.
Jason R.
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I love this. Especially the last stanza. Good one Gabe
Jason R.
PS: The comment about a rainbow on your shoulder? Is that a tattoo or a metaphor?
, I think Trab's interpretation is valid as well. In the end, whether you take the morning after pill or watch a close friend take an overdose to end the suffering, the meaning is the same. Regret, bitter sweet victory, and the always inevitable what-if scenario.Scan to donate
Rainbow Warrior
in Poets' Corner
Posted
Rainbow Warrior
By: Jason R.
Written May 27th, 2006 and on September 30th, 2007
You dropped the words on me today
Duty it seems will soon take you away
I think a part of me died tonight
I feel nothing on my insides
Fighting a war I can?t begin to understand
Being Army strong won?t make you a man
Can you hide who you?re fighting for
Being on the front lines in the wrong fucking war
We spoke until the words were yells
I?ll never understand you I can tell
Brandon, I really feel like hell
But I?ll throw a few pennies in the wishing well
You stood up and drew a line in the sand
And you knew you could be excluded for loving a man
If this secret was to escape and be found out by all
Your disgrace would be terrific and down you?d fall
I know it?s your belief and a desire to serve
You love this country despite being labeled a perv
Their policy is don?t ask and never say
They?ll let you die but you can?t die gay
I received the news from them today
It seems duty finally did take you away
I know a part of me died tonight
And I feel nothing on my insides
You fought a war I?ll never understand
But being Army strong made you a man
You no longer have to hide who you?re fighting for
Dead on some front line in this wrong fucking war
I cried until the screams turned to yells
I?ll never understand your sacrifice I can tell
Brandon, I really feel like hell
A rose on your grave replaces pennies in the wishing well