Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Kaleidoscope Dope: Stories & Plays
http://www.amazon.com/Kaleidoscope-Dope-William-Clunie/dp/1508623724/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1426657843&sr=8-1&keywords=william+clunie
Saturday, March 7, 2015
Get used to hearing about the cum-stained dress
The Bush name is so ruined it's laughable. Everybody knows George W. Bush was the worst president in the living memory of the oldest human being in America. Everybody. Our side knows it. Right wingers know it. So Jeb Bush has a problem because of that damnable last name. What can he do? Change his name? He could change it to "Reagan," run as "Jeb Reagan," and he's probably considered it. Trying to defend his idiot brother is pointless, because we ALL KNOW George was the worst president in living memory. Yes, even right wingers know that. No, the point is not debatable.
So Jeb does what all right wingers do. They transfer their biggest problem to their opponent.
The Rove team did it with John Kerry. Their man, George, hid out from the Vietnam War, playing fuckaround (with jets! VRRROOOMMM!!!) while the real men went off and fought. Like John Kerry. So they smeared John Kerry's heroic service, swiftboating him enough to get the vote close enough they could steal the election.
Bush's biggest problem in a matchup with anybody, and it will be Hillary Clinton, is that fucked-up last name, and how everybody in America, EVERYBODY, knows GWB was the worst president of all time. So all they can do is smear the Clinton name, in any way they can.
Enter the cum-stained dress. It rolls off the tongue, that cum-stained dress, much more pithily than "wrecked the economy, upended the Mideast, allowed 9/11 to happen, murdereed too too many troops in an unnecessary war." Cum-stained dress. It's easier for idiots to say.
Get used to hearing it. You're going to hear it for the next 16 months, as Jeb BUSH tries to make his opponent's last name the issue, and not his own.
So Jeb does what all right wingers do. They transfer their biggest problem to their opponent.
The Rove team did it with John Kerry. Their man, George, hid out from the Vietnam War, playing fuckaround (with jets! VRRROOOMMM!!!) while the real men went off and fought. Like John Kerry. So they smeared John Kerry's heroic service, swiftboating him enough to get the vote close enough they could steal the election.
Bush's biggest problem in a matchup with anybody, and it will be Hillary Clinton, is that fucked-up last name, and how everybody in America, EVERYBODY, knows GWB was the worst president of all time. So all they can do is smear the Clinton name, in any way they can.
Enter the cum-stained dress. It rolls off the tongue, that cum-stained dress, much more pithily than "wrecked the economy, upended the Mideast, allowed 9/11 to happen, murdereed too too many troops in an unnecessary war." Cum-stained dress. It's easier for idiots to say.
Get used to hearing it. You're going to hear it for the next 16 months, as Jeb BUSH tries to make his opponent's last name the issue, and not his own.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Ah-ha. Now Monetized
Ads are now live on the blog. At my current readership, I expect to make at least 30 cents a month. Will the ads reflect the content? Should I write a piece about erectile dysfunction, just to find out? I used to suffer from erectile dysfunction, when I drank and smoked. I don't anymore. About all there is to say on that topic. Bring on the ED ads. Clunie out.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Forging a Sacred Text
I would be a forger
of the highest
order & instruct
the flowers at the border
that these words come
straight from tongue
of God into my own.
My own tongue.
God & me, kissing
like that, His saliva
alive, oh, an ambrosia
of inspiration,
of spiritus, of word
breathed in my lung.
But these are only words.
Only mine. No more
divine than blood.
Idea forged in reckoning
of holy wind, a Book
of Respiration breathed
into my breast.
Even pretense can
invigorate. I am
as a preacher praising
to the flowers at the gate
a god who comes
& goes. Like a lover
who we sometimes love
& sometimes hate,
a necessary fantasy
inspiring the sacred
lays that shape
the outline
of his sacred grace.
of the highest
order & instruct
the flowers at the border
that these words come
straight from tongue
of God into my own.
My own tongue.
God & me, kissing
like that, His saliva
alive, oh, an ambrosia
of inspiration,
of spiritus, of word
breathed in my lung.
But these are only words.
Only mine. No more
divine than blood.
Idea forged in reckoning
of holy wind, a Book
of Respiration breathed
into my breast.
Even pretense can
invigorate. I am
as a preacher praising
to the flowers at the gate
a god who comes
& goes. Like a lover
who we sometimes love
& sometimes hate,
a necessary fantasy
inspiring the sacred
lays that shape
the outline
of his sacred grace.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
white party balloon bouncing on the sidewalk toward me downtown pdx 7-20-14
i have learned i want
to be happy here
at the middle of life's road.
the late middle. who am i
kidding? upsettingly close
to the end. i have learned
i want to be happy, that is
something. something more
than before, when misery
seemed a sport, the body
so plastic & filled with juice
de vivre that happiness seemed
unseemly. it's like this balloon
bouncing down the sidewalk on a breeze,
a cannonball careening through my ranks?
or just a balloon, its only meaning sorrow
for the kid who lost it, & pleasure
because it's pretty, even though
it's partly deflated, plain white,
a bit dirty. it seems happy,
bouncing on the wind
before it pops.
to be happy here
at the middle of life's road.
the late middle. who am i
kidding? upsettingly close
to the end. i have learned
i want to be happy, that is
something. something more
than before, when misery
seemed a sport, the body
so plastic & filled with juice
de vivre that happiness seemed
unseemly. it's like this balloon
bouncing down the sidewalk on a breeze,
a cannonball careening through my ranks?
or just a balloon, its only meaning sorrow
for the kid who lost it, & pleasure
because it's pretty, even though
it's partly deflated, plain white,
a bit dirty. it seems happy,
bouncing on the wind
before it pops.
Friday, June 27, 2014
lines written in anger at the imminent destruction of my planet
only beauty
& the tenderest
emotions give
me hope
that this
experiment
in sentience
might continue
there is no beauty
in your greed
no tenderness
in your grab
at the cloth
of green that cloaks
my land
you are a criminal
in my society
you
of the fire-spouting
arms
i will turn
away
from you
we all
will turn away
in our praise
of the poet
& the mother
& the lover
of the woods
for what
they are
& not
for what
they offer up
by way of profit
or commodity
we will be free
of the cruelty
of the choices
that you make
for us
& the only wrath
we'll feel
within our bones
will point
at you.
& the tenderest
emotions give
me hope
that this
experiment
in sentience
might continue
there is no beauty
in your greed
no tenderness
in your grab
at the cloth
of green that cloaks
my land
you are a criminal
in my society
you
of the fire-spouting
arms
i will turn
away
from you
we all
will turn away
in our praise
of the poet
& the mother
& the lover
of the woods
for what
they are
& not
for what
they offer up
by way of profit
or commodity
we will be free
of the cruelty
of the choices
that you make
for us
& the only wrath
we'll feel
within our bones
will point
at you.
a poem is antimatter / manifesto
a poem is antimatter to an advertisement
a poem is antimatter to a sales pitch
the right poem can make capitalism explode
...................
this sequence of words:
a recombinant meme
...................
the word is used to sell bombs
& desire
the bodies that have burned to paste
no longer sing
a poem should be a sacred text
of tears
that speaks their story
.................
in the beginning we created the word
the word is of no import
if it does not lead to knowledge
knowledge is worthless
if it does not lead to wisdom
wisdom has no meaning
if it does not lead to love
a poem is antimatter to a sales pitch
the right poem can make capitalism explode
...................
this sequence of words:
a recombinant meme
...................
the word is used to sell bombs
& desire
the bodies that have burned to paste
no longer sing
a poem should be a sacred text
of tears
that speaks their story
.................
in the beginning we created the word
the word is of no import
if it does not lead to knowledge
knowledge is worthless
if it does not lead to wisdom
wisdom has no meaning
if it does not lead to love
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
untitled
as my vision fails the world
pixelates like japanese
pornography
eggs for eyes, cracked,
the life within cooked
to plastic yellow paste
moving through a gallery of rothko
color-fields, pieces of the world
lost to platonism
sensation remains -- the taste
of meat & milk, the warmth
of your garden on my skin
& still the sound of your voice
still
pixelates like japanese
pornography
eggs for eyes, cracked,
the life within cooked
to plastic yellow paste
moving through a gallery of rothko
color-fields, pieces of the world
lost to platonism
sensation remains -- the taste
of meat & milk, the warmth
of your garden on my skin
& still the sound of your voice
still
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