October 2011
11 posts
thunder cackles in the background beating an angry drum under the moon’s rage-blind grin I barrel down an eastward highway through the badlands death strikes from strobe-light static in the sky cars park under the hoax of a safe overpass the tops of cell phone towers beacon haphazard hope through god’s bloodthirsty mist lightning swoops down for a kiss I flick a fire and breathe smoke...
Instagram
The only thing I use it for is making pictures of stupid shit look worse than they already do.
It's 6 AM
Keep the bed warm for me, darling you know I stray outside and smoke my lungs black and once, in the alley out back I paced for miles and leagues and lit by the gentle yellow beams of all the simmering lamp bulbs begging for lambency but barely letting out an electric whimper I was swallowed in the belly of the city dark and lonely
I crawl around at midnight past the tienda de licor and the...
I'm sitting on the porch
and the neighbors below are doing laundry and I can smell the fumes from the dryer coming up to the balcony. It smells fucking amazing. I love the smell of clean laundry.
Colin, why don't you smoke weed?
I’ll tell you. The thing is, I used to smoke weed, and I used to enjoy it. You know, in the 8th grade. I used to smoke it out of tinfoil bowls and I’d get a bunch of ash in my mouth, but it made me giggly and goofy. Weed back then was weak and had dirt in it and you didn’t know where it came from and it just made you laugh a lot at really stupid shit.
Now weed is very, very...
Dear people who have music automatically play when...
What the fuck is this, myspace in 2005?
I’m just sitting here, listening to Bruce Springsteen in the dark, and I click on somebody’s blog and my ears are not only bombarded by a bunch of indie dancewave whatever-the-fuck bullshit, but the sound of that mixes together with Bruce Springsteen and creates something so horrible I feel like putting a gun in my mouth.
And jesus christ, cut...
Music, Life, Communication
Songs, for me, are often a work in progress. And unfortunately they almost never get completely finished. Songwriting, too, is a work in progress. And songwriting is my life. It isn’t a choice. It isn’t a career decision. It isn’t a hobby. It’s the only thing I know how to do. I take that back—it’s the only thing I feel required to do. I could be many things,...
Colin Weaver - Ohio
So, this is the final-ish...
I am a modern poet
full of longing and regret
lusting for the future I’ve never met
feeling bent and lost
I have earned my degree
in the city
of commonplace necessity
This burning never ceases
to imbibe me
I am a modern poet
celebrating what I’ve lost
my deaf blind machinery
Yearning for the shell
of what I used to believe.