Im the Moonlight

I sit alone in the night.
I play my songs for you.
You blow against the tall-tasseled
grasses like you were wind.

Cars pass by
on the gravel road
twenty-five yards away
raise the dust against their red brake-lights
as they drive down the hill

never knowing
that I sit alone
and play my songs for you.

You.

No pick in hand
fingers and thumb
moving up and down
swaying to the sounds
of the tall-tasseled grasses.

And the shadow
of my curly hair
casts on the paper
like one side of a conifer

as I write
as I sit alone/in the moonlight
and trade your memory
for the sound of my voice.

IMPORTANT NOTICE

If you come across the site Promise of Light by way of the url promiseoflight.org, please contact me here: sir_james@netzero.net
with the date and time. I will compensate you for your efforts.

What's going on here is this: National Contact Registry, because of some very sudden and tragic events (I had a heart attack and open-heart surgery and it came up for renewal during this time), bought the domain name that used to go to Promise of Light the site (promiseoflight.org). The simple facts are that just because they bought the domain name does not mean that they have a right to display my site and its content, all the intellectual property it contains. They have been pirating the content since July 2, 2009.

A bunch of shit

You would not believe the bunch of shit that I am putting up with. It's been like seven days now since my domain name was bought. And the fucks, National Contact Registry, I just got off the phone with the fucking bastards, and they tried to sell me promiseoflight.org, the domain name, for 4,600 dollars. I don't have two dollars to rub together, but I digress. I already got the .com alternative worked out. But I said to them that this is a clear cut case of copyright infringement, and that I wanted then to take down my own (and others') content or I'd file a law suit. The guy was like, well, the owner of this company owns a pretty big law firm downtown here, trying to deter me. Can you fucking believe this shit? I not sure what my next move will be. But I told the mother fucker that they better take the content down in 24hrs. or I' filling a lawsuit.

A bunch of shit I'm telling you.

Some crazy stuff had happened to me lately. Besides the heart attack and the surgery, (here's the article I published: http://www.courier-journal.com/article/20090605/OPINION02/906050305/1016/ARCHIVES) just about a week ago or so, my domain name promiseoflight.org was bought out from under me. I had the heart attack and surgery at the time I was being sent the notices to renew it. Also, I was trying to eliminate extra costs and was phasing out the email account they were being sent to. Anyway. I fucked up. The on the phone was right. It was my responsibility to update my information. And it had been auto-renewing so long that, in the midst of it all, I just forgot. Now, it’s promiseoflight.com. Or at least it will be when I get everything worked out. I just received a ton of great submissions too. And when the website went so did my editor’s account. And everything was lost. Haiku from all over the world is lost.

Anyway. None of that stuff really matters. All that really matters here in the blog world are the friends that I’ve made and the love I still hold for them in my heart. It hurts me dearly not to hear from them anymore. But I’ve shoved all the painful stuff down with the rest of it. I’ve got to get caught up on school work and get back to work in the library. We need the money something terrible.

Moving forward. That’s my theme. As I read today on another blog. Accept the things that cannot be changed. And move forward with the changeable. That paraphrasing of course.
Be well all. And know that my love is as great for you now as it has ever been. It oozes from me.

This I Ask

Please check out the new forums at Promise of Light.

And, if you've got the time, please take a look and listen to the music page, and give me some feedback. Tell me what needs to be done, if it works well, or if it doesn't.

I would be much obliged if you were kind enough to do so.

Thank you.

~ James

The following is all jumbled up
in space and in time
like me.

I sit here in this empty midnight
waiting room. Cold clean air sifts
down through the heartaches and tears
that inhabit these walls. The best in the
world they say. The best surgeon they say.
These things latch onto the fear. They
pull at it, but the fear is stronger.
Open Heart Surgery. Even for me,
a man who fears so few things, these
three words whip my psyche like a slave.
The bright lights
blind me. The sterile walls surround me.
The catheter travels up and through my artery.
The artery is completely blocked.
Plaque hardens in the valve. Too
close, too dangerous for a stint
or the balloon procedure.
OPEN-HEART SURGERY
is your only chance.
I stare up at the lights .
They flash with confusion.
Small white flakes fall from
the porous ceiling tiles as I lie in blank glare.
Beyond these thin curtains,
they laugh, make plans for their weekends.
I think of suicide . I am selfish.
The old lady in a blue robe
walks around the waiting room
and down the hall, staring out the window.
Does she find hope in her glare, her stare,
her gray hair, red lipstick?
She walks out the glass doors with wooden
frames and gold-gilded handles.
I want to say hi. But I am silent.
People walk by, give fake smiles.

I tend to hold back information I put on my blog for fear that it may upset someone. I’ve held back pictures, oh the pictures I’ve wanted to post.

But now I just wanted to let you know that I had a heart attack on Saturday. I suffered through it for 15 16 hours at least, maybe more. My wife came home from work and drove me to the hospital. (I told her it was merely indigestion.) I would not go in however once we got there, thinking of the last time I went. They poked and prodded me all night and finally said that nothing was wrong, so I didn’t want to go. Instead I went home and lay down on the couch and continued to have a heart attack all night, telling myself it was indigestion and that it would all be over soon.

I went to the local physician yesterday, had an EKG. I go in tomorrow for the catheter and stint. I am still in somewhat of a state of denial. I am only 35. What does this say about the way I’ve treated my body?

The trigger was when I over exerted myself Saturday afternoon. I live a sedentary lifestyle and should not have been chopping through thick vines and brush with a hand saw and onlt my bare hands. I never forget who I once was. The reason I cut through that stuff like it wasn’t even there in fraction of the time it should have taken is the same reason, even if I haven’t drank in over a year, that I will match shot for shot, beer for beer, with anyone from the "old gang." (Most of the old gang is in prison by the way). It’s who I once was. But, clearly, those days are gone now. I can’t walk ten feet without having to lie down for an hour. I am so tired.

Soft Spring Afternoon

soft spring afternoon---
bees hover above clover
the trees are lazy

like me.