Saturday, June 15, 2013

chuck scott: Five Questions with Chuck Scott

chuck scott: Five Questions with Chuck Scott: *Some days I have lots of time to daydream. This is a result of my daydreaming of being a published novelist/essayist/blogger of great renow...


chuck scott: Five Questions with Chuck Scott

chuck scott: Five Questions with Chuck Scott: *Some days I have lots of time to daydream. This is a result of my daydreaming of being a published novelist/essayist/blogger of great renow...


Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Because I feel an obligation to post something, no matter how inane.....

I have been busy as of late. I have been writing short stories and some other stuff that seems to stay in a form of incompleteness. 

Sending out poems and such has a way of taxing my soul.--I am an impatient man..

I have a couple of rewrites to do, and that in itself makes me want to gouge my eyes out with a broken screwdriver. 

Until I finish, I leave you with this, written by someone else who is long dead....

Men Say They Know Many Things

Men say they know many things;
But lo! they have taken wings, —
The arts and sciences,
And a thousand appliances;
The wind that blows
Is all that any body knows.

Henry David Thoreau

Because I feel an obligation to post something, no matter how inane.....

I have been busy as of late. I have been writing short stories and some other stuff that seems to stay in a form of incompleteness. 

Sending out poems and such has a way of taxing my soul.--I am an impatient man..

I have a couple of rewrites to do, and that in itself makes me want to gouge my eyes out with a broken screwdriver. 

Until I finish, I leave you with this, written by someone else who is long dead....

Men Say They Know Many Things

Men say they know many things;
But lo! they have taken wings, —
The arts and sciences,
And a thousand appliances;
The wind that blows
Is all that any body knows.

Henry David Thoreau

Monday, April 29, 2013

Poetry Reading

First poetry reading
in a couple of decades.
I laughed.
I cried.
I sat in awe.

That night I learned:

Georgia Peaches
are FREAKY!

Kansans punch
two year olds,
in the face,
for crying.

During intermission
while smoking a cigar,
playing cool and aloof (who am I kidding?)
I listened to conversations.
One common thread,
among poets who
stay in the game is:
poetry kills the poet-
but what a way to go.

While waiting for the crapper
I was let in on a little known
secret,
(to men)
about women’s public restroom
etiquette.
Women,
whatever you do,
never,
I mean never,
talk on your cell phone
while on the can.

--You will be busted out
by one of your sisters
with explosive bowl syndrome—

I learned the significance
of PBR in a can, also
that same PBR
on an empty stomach
is money well spent.

Most importantly,
I remembered that words are best shared
with other people. 

Poetry Reading

First poetry reading
in a couple of decades.
I laughed.
I cried.
I sat in awe.

That night I learned:

Georgia Peaches
are FREAKY!

Kansans punch
two year olds,
in the face,
for crying.

During intermission
while smoking a cigar,
playing cool and aloof (who am I kidding?)
I listened to conversations.
One common thread,
among poets who
stay in the game is:
poetry kills the poet-
but what a way to go.

While waiting for the crapper
I was let in on a little known
secret,
(to men)
about women’s public restroom
etiquette.
Women,
whatever you do,
never,
I mean never,
talk on your cell phone
while on the can.

--You will be busted out
by one of your sisters
with explosive bowl syndrome—

I learned the significance
of PBR in a can, also
that same PBR
on an empty stomach
is money well spent.

Most importantly,
I remembered that words are best shared
with other people. 

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Sorry Kids



Slicing through
the dung of it all, 
the sick of it all, 
the sum of it all.
Blunderbuss to the head,
an epiphany,
sudden realization,
clarified awareness
that we know nothing more
than the day before
or through all of history
other than, 
wars remain,
people kill,
poverty remains, 
people starve,
and children suffer
from our muddled traipsing 
through the 
bogs of life....

Sorry Kids



Slicing through
the dung of it all, 
the sick of it all, 
the sum of it all.
Blunderbuss to the head,
an epiphany,
sudden realization,
clarified awareness
that we know nothing more
than the day before
or through all of history
other than, 
wars remain,
people kill,
poverty remains, 
people starve,
and children suffer
from our muddled traipsing 
through the 
bogs of life....

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Be Strong Boston!



As some of you know I spent a good part of my life outside Boston, in fact most all of the 80's and the first couple of years of the 90's. I am not a native to New England, but from the time I was born until my early 20's Massachusetts was the longest I had lived anywhere. I am a transient who has longed for a hometown and consider Billerica, Massachusetts mine. I miss it tremendously and if I ever get to retire Chastity and I are moving there to spend our waning winters ass deep in snow and summers in the White Mountains (still New England). Don't get me wrong, We love Kansas City but c'mon, it's not friggin New England!

All that to say, in light of the attack on Boston, I have had time to reflect. I, like many, have a hard time trying to sort out what kind of person thinks that killing and maiming people is a good thing. What is more distressing to me is all of the assumptions being made as to who did this. It seems the go to enemy is Muslim. Without any proof the media put it out there that it could possibly be a Muslim attack, because as we all know, normal white bread Americans aren't known to blow things up.

Journalism used to be a noble profession, now it's just words with no facts, a propaganda tool creating fear.

I am thinking it was some disgruntled dude from Greenland. Hell, they've been mad at us forever. Just ask any native of Greenland, they hate us for the clubbing of baby seals and global warming. Homeland Security missed that one.

All kidding aside. The type of person who did this was only one type, IDIOT. Idiots have been ruining it for everybody since forever. We need to police the idiots.

If there is anything good that came out of this it would be the common people looking after and caring for each other. It gives me hope for humanity.

Boston, I love you. You are all in my thoughts and prayers... B strong!

Chuck

Be Strong Boston!



As some of you know I spent a good part of my life outside Boston, in fact most all of the 80's and the first couple of years of the 90's. I am not a native to New England, but from the time I was born until my early 20's Massachusetts was the longest I had lived anywhere. I am a transient who has longed for a hometown and consider Billerica, Massachusetts mine. I miss it tremendously and if I ever get to retire Chastity and I are moving there to spend our waning winters ass deep in snow and summers in the White Mountains (still New England). Don't get me wrong, We love Kansas City but c'mon, it's not friggin New England!

All that to say, in light of the attack on Boston, I have had time to reflect. I, like many, have a hard time trying to sort out what kind of person thinks that killing and maiming people is a good thing. What is more distressing to me is all of the assumptions being made as to who did this. It seems the go to enemy is Muslim. Without any proof the media put it out there that it could possibly be a Muslim attack, because as we all know, normal white bread Americans aren't known to blow things up.

Journalism used to be a noble profession, now it's just words with no facts, a propaganda tool creating fear.

I am thinking it was some disgruntled dude from Greenland. Hell, they've been mad at us forever. Just ask any native of Greenland, they hate us for the clubbing of baby seals and global warming. Homeland Security missed that one.

All kidding aside. The type of person who did this was only one type, IDIOT. Idiots have been ruining it for everybody since forever. We need to police the idiots.

If there is anything good that came out of this it would be the common people looking after and caring for each other. It gives me hope for humanity.

Boston, I love you. You are all in my thoughts and prayers... B strong!

Chuck

Thursday, April 04, 2013

Pensive Patriot (or, Revolution is a Young Man’s Game)

Twenty five years ago
I was all for revolution.
My insular world
made numbers
seem larger (one always feels part of the majority in a group of like minds)

Life goes on,
realization that nobody
actually cares (except for themselves and commodities)
a thread of apathy
running through our
fabric of indifference…..or some such thing…..

They (it’s always THEM!)
are counting on
perfunctory populist thought….or lack thereof….

It was THEM!
slowly stealing our country
as we turned a blind eye
to mediocris endeavors.

D.C. looks like WCW (or Adult Swim)
puffing, posturing,
saying nothing,
and doing less…..or nothing more than required…..

Meanwhile….

Our myopic eyes
feed on pseudo-reality
and bastardized journalism,
genetically modified organisms
eating what little
grey mush remaining
in the flickering glow of
PRIMETIME…..

WE NEED REVOLUTION! 

I am for revolution,
but a one man revolution
is considered
nothing more
than terrorism
by THEM,
at best,
a sure quick death,
(or folding Whitey Bulger’s laundry
after a romantic walk in the yard…)

And I’m not sure
I care that much
anymore…

Besides,
revolution is a young man’s game….


Pensive Patriot (or, Revolution is a Young Man’s Game)

Twenty five years ago
I was all for revolution.
My insular world
made numbers
seem larger (one always feels part of the majority in a group of like minds)

Life goes on,
realization that nobody
actually cares (except for themselves and commodities)
a thread of apathy
running through our
fabric of indifference…..or some such thing…..

They (it’s always THEM!)
are counting on
perfunctory populist thought….or lack thereof….

It was THEM!
slowly stealing our country
as we turned a blind eye
to mediocris endeavors.

D.C. looks like WCW (or Adult Swim)
puffing, posturing,
saying nothing,
and doing less…..or nothing more than required…..

Meanwhile….

Our myopic eyes
feed on pseudo-reality
and bastardized journalism,
genetically modified organisms
eating what little
grey mush remaining
in the flickering glow of
PRIMETIME…..

WE NEED REVOLUTION! 

I am for revolution,
but a one man revolution
is considered
nothing more
than terrorism
by THEM,
at best,
a sure quick death,
(or folding Whitey Bulger’s laundry
after a romantic walk in the yard…)

And I’m not sure
I care that much
anymore…

Besides,
revolution is a young man’s game….


Thursday, March 28, 2013

Tiny Rant on Gay Marriage Debate...

What do I think of gay marriage? Absolutely nothing. As a a happily married heterosexual male I do not feel the least bit threatened if men marry men or women marry women. The institution of marriage is not jeopardized within the church, synagogue, or mosque. What business is it of mine or anyone else's for that matter, if some one would like the right to provide for their loved ones when they pass away? Meaning, this is a founding principle of our country, that of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, all of which is extended to those we care about. Most of us, if we are honest and not complete jerks, can agree that nothing would make one so happy on their death bed than to know that the ones you love are taken care of when you die, whomever they may be.

As a narrow minded bigot you have the right to your opinion. That right is guaranteed by our constitution. It also guarantees my right to say you are wrong and a cotton headed ninnymuggins.

As Christians we can defend non issues until we are blue in the face, but the argument remains footle when there are far more pressing issues that we can be addressing. Strain the gnats and swallow a fly. Ack!

I guess I do think something about it.....

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Common Sense Drinks Alone


Common Sense
downs another shot
at the end of the bar.
He has been at it
for an hour or so,
and things out there
are starting to get fuzzy.

Now reality
comes in bits and waves,
an optical illusion,
made palatable
by carefully spun lies.

Corporate paltering
selling plasticine promises
of old age sex
and face paralyzing
beauty cream.

Another shot down,
the future looks
Dali-esque,
eyeballs hardening,
funhouse mirror reflects
aberations of the past.

Grabbing the bottle,
four fingers down,
and everything dims,
intentional vivisepulture,
fresh food for the worms.

Common Sense
found puking
behind the dumpster
in the alley,
while the Tea Party looks
for its Mad Hatter,
sitting on their hands
for the revolution to come.




Wiping his mouth,
bellicose bantering
from would be jingoists
fill his ears with
Pavlovian responses
to real world issues
manufactured by the
Fair and Balanced.

and tasting stale vomit,
Common Sense goes home.

Common Sense Drinks Alone


Common Sense
downs another shot
at the end of the bar.
He has been at it
for an hour or so,
and things out there
are starting to get fuzzy.

Now reality
comes in bits and waves,
an optical illusion,
made palatable
by carefully spun lies.

Corporate paltering
selling plasticine promises
of old age sex
and face paralyzing
beauty cream.

Another shot down,
the future looks
Dali-esque,
eyeballs hardening,
funhouse mirror reflects
aberations of the past.

Grabbing the bottle,
four fingers down,
and everything dims,
intentional vivisepulture,
fresh food for the worms.

Common Sense
found puking
behind the dumpster
in the alley,
while the Tea Party looks
for its Mad Hatter,
sitting on their hands
for the revolution to come.




Wiping his mouth,
bellicose bantering
from would be jingoists
fill his ears with
Pavlovian responses
to real world issues
manufactured by the
Fair and Balanced.

and tasting stale vomit,
Common Sense goes home.

Saturday, March 09, 2013

Learned Poet (or Arrogant Jackass)



Your written eloquence
speaks nothing to
the eyes reading,
to the soul searching, 
the heart screaming!

Your attention to 
trivialities pound words,
like metal, into dull knives,
bruising more than cutting,
hacking the senses
into dullness,
into coma!

Your lettered names
prove nothing more
than ideas learned,
blinded lemming pride
the halls of academia!

You see, teacher,
a good poem
speaks to our souls, hearts,
coming from life lived
in the tragic,
the mundane,
and magnificent!