SOLMI

I was reading through a notebook I kept in high school and college tonight. It seems I wrote a lot more then than I do now. That’s kind of a shame.

Anyhoo, I found two old “poems” that I figured I might as well put up here.

I wonder when I buy it
how will it be sold?
When the buckets’ kicked and the ticket punched
how will it be sold?
Maybe there’ll be a sale on drownings
but those things never fit me right.
(wrong color for the eyes)
Perhaps a gun-shot wound?
Nah-too modern, when I go
I want it with style that’s fairly retro.
Crucifixion’s a bit of overkill
I wouldn’t be able to cover the bill.
Stoned to death? Such a drab!
I’ll let someone else pick up that tab.

That’s about all I have for that. It went on a but further but it made even less sense than what I typed out already. So without further ado here’s the other one I found.

Today I saw a man turn green and huge and smash things uo.
I can relate.
The other day I read of a man, laughing up and burning;
another smearing butter on his face.
I think I can relate.

There’s seasons for all sorts.
A carousel, up and down, up and down.
This is one of the down days.

I once read of a man who wanted to be a crab.
I can relate to that.
And then, then there was once this lad, the formal coatsman
once blinded he gave up everything he had.
Not quite there- but I still relate to that.

You know how it’s supposed to go:
up and down, up and down
This is definitely one of those down days.

I learned of a man who taught relativity, had crazy hair.
I bet I can relate.
Then there was a guy-almost had his face chewed off by rats. Rats!
Perhaps, just perhaps, I can relate to that.

This guy got stabbed in the back!
Another, heart attack!

I’m drawing close to that.

So anyway there we go. I never claimed to be a poet but I thought these poems were entertaining nevertheless. Maybe if I find some more stuff I used to write I could post it up here. Until then, stay safe loyal SOLMI fans.

So I was getting razzed today by Jason and Meagan for not posting anything new in this fine blog area. I figured I’d go ahead and put out the next episode in the chronicles of the life of Shane Bloomer. Maybe now they’ll get off my back. I doubt it, though. I sincerely do.

SHANE BLOOMER’S EXISTENTIAL GUIDE TO NOTHINGNESS: PART THREE OF AN EIGHT PART SERIES

Shane Bloomer was 22 years old. Shane Bloomer liked this because it had the number two twice. This made sense to Shane Bloomer. Though, truth be told, Shane Bloomer much preferred odd numbers to that of even ones. Shane Bloomer did not quite understand why. This plagued him because Shane Bloomer always liked to have an answer ready.

Shane Bloomer made sure to steer clear of the topic of odd vs. even numbers in everyday conversation.

Shane Bloomer had wishes and hopes. He had dreams and aspirations.

But, the narrator is vague as the narrator has always been.

Shane Bloomer had mixed feelings concerning animals. This was his own fault, he knew. You see, when Shane Bloomer could recall that when be was younger, that is to say, when he was smaller in stature and less experienced in the world, he had quite a negative experience with an ant. The smaller-of-stature Shane Bloomer had run across a rather large ant hill one day. He watched all of the ants scurrying about when suddenly a nasty thought came to him. Overcome with curiosity and a swiss army knife scissor appliance in hand, Shane Bloomer reached down and cut one of the ants in half. He watched as the back half of the ant lay still while the front half scurried about frantically. Shane Bloomer was so troubled by this that he went home that evening and had a good cry about the matter. He hoped this absolved him of any long standing guilt. Shane Bloomer preferred not to feel guilty about things. This always made him feel a bit guilty. But then again, so did most things.

Shane Bloomer tried to drink from glasses with one pinky raised. This would usually make him feel better.

Alas, the narrator gives way to the uninteresting.

Sometime Shane Bloomer would try to read a book. He’d always get halfway through, only to stop because of his everyday activities getting out of hand. When this happened, he was faced with a dilemma: forge ahead although he had forgotten most of the plot and major characters, or start over again? This always troubled Shane Bloomer and it always took him a long time to decide which course of action seemed most fitting for each certain situation. If there was one thing Shane Bloomer knew, it was that there was always right and wrong. Well, he also knew that rhombuses were a bogus idea.

It can be said that many viewed Shane Bloomer as an awkward man.

Shane Bloomer liked the number three. He wouldn’t completely be able to answer why. Because he was not able to distinguish the real motive behind preferring odd numbers to even numbers he decided to have a go at the matter and settle it once and for all. Shane thought long and hard about an even number. He picked the number two. He thought of the way it looked from top to bottom. How it began with curves and ended in a straight horizontal line at the bottom. Then, as a contrast, Shane Bloomer picked the number three and devoted as much time, if not more, in mental examination. Again as before, he examined the number from top to bottom. He noted the curves of the number.Shane Bloomer finally felt he had the answer.

It wasn’t the fact of how the numbers looked per se, it was the colors he had connected to each.

But, the narrator clears up what is not needed.

Shane Bloomer was 22 years old. He liked a girl. He had a job. He had a car. He had co-wokers and relatives. This is how everyone knew Shane Bloomer.

THIS CONCLUDES PART THREE OF SHANE BLOOMER’S EXISTENTIAL GUIDE TO NOTHINGNESS

Hello all. Since I am having a fit of writer’s block tonight but I still wanted to post something new, I figured “hey, now might be a good time to post the new episode in the exciting life of Shane Bloomer!” I quickly agreed with myself, gave myself a high five, then set about to copying-and-pasting. So without further delay, away we go:

SHANE BLOOMER’S EXISTENTIAL GUIDE TO NOTHINGNESS: PART TWO OF EIGHT

Shane Bloomer liked a girl. Now it can be said that Shane Bloomer liked many girls. Indeed, this was how it truly was. Shane Bloomer, after exchanging as little as a look with an attractive girl would fantasize on end about how this initial connection would lead to a lasting relationship full of love, wonder, and wonderment. In years to come Shane Bloomer and the random girl that would then be Shane Bloomer’s blushing bride would recount how it all started with a glance in the others’ direction.

Alas, the narrator explains the unnecessary as is the narrator’s job.

Shane Bloomer really liked this girl. She had black hair, which Shane Bloomer was attracted to. She wore glasses and Shane Bloomer had no objection to this choice. He did not know what to say to her when he looked at her, and he interpreted this as a sign of puppy love. Shane Bloomer could tolerate this, though cats certainly made Shane Bloomer sneeze. Shane Bloomer liked this girl and her name was Jennifer. This complicated things. He did not know whether to call her Jen, Jenny, or any other variant upon the original aforementioned first name of the girl whom Shane Bloomer felt a most certain attraction, some could say a connection, with. Shane Bloomer was weary of long sentences.

Shane Bloomer worked as other people did. Shane Bloomer took his job seriously though it was not a serious job. His coworkers did not take their jobs seriously, and this upset Shane Bloomer. His coworkers generally felt that Shane Bloomer was an awkward man. Indeed, this was the general consensus of much of Shane Bloomer’s community. The awkwardness was not in his gait alone, though his gait was awkward. His awkwardness was not in his hair alone, though his personal appearance in such areas of the face certainly was awkward. His awkwardness was a blanket that covered him entirely. Shane Bloomer preferred metaphors to similes, as he felt the use of “like” or “as” was too obvious. He knew he was above such things.

Shane Bloomer had an average reading level.

Shane Bloomer often stood as a flamingo, with one leg bent and the foot resting on the other leg’s knees.

The narrator gives way to erroneous thought, as is inevitable for the narrator.

Shane Bloomer had needs and desires the same as any other person. He wanted to feel important a lot as well as wanting to feel needed. Shane Bloomer would never have said any of this to any one at any time. If anyone were ever to know, he thought, he would be made completely vulnerable. But in all reality, whoever had found out such deep innate yearnings would just feel awkward. After all, it was Shane Bloomer. Shane Bloomer did not quite understand this. He did however, understand most of Ulysses by James Joyce though no one ever cared to ask about this important fact. Shane Bloomer lied on occasion.

Shane Bloomer slept as others did. He would try to get the eight hours he had always heard was needed as a good night sleep. He also, on occassion in always in the dark with the door closed, would try dream exercises. Shane Bloomer had heard of such things and wondered if he had the mastery of mastering his own mind. He would try things like waking up to a specific time without the use of the clock. Shane Bloomer would also try to set up what he would dream that night.

Here is what Shane Bloomer would try to imagine: a four door sedan in a world which lacked rhombuses and had nary a cat. A world in which others accepted him and he felt happy. A world in which he could control his own dreams.

The narrator is again repetitive, as the narrator tries not to be.

THIS CONCLUDES PART TWO OF SHANE BLOOMER’S EXISTENTIAL GUIDE TO NOTHINGNESS.