Thursday, September 29, 2005


Every Which Way But Dead by Kim Harrison - A witch bounty hunter deals with demons, vampires, elf crimelords and obstinate pixies in this third book of "The Hollows" series. This one was hard to get through. Very difficult. Not much happened in the least not enough to keep me interested. Too much lovy-dovy crap with the Kisten character. I mean, this is supposed to be a supernatural thriller not a Harlequin romance. Look at the cover. All it needs is Fabio dipping the heroine in preparation for a lover's kiss. Give me a freakin' break. The first 2 books were surprisingly good. Good action. I was skeptical because most female authors scimp on action and go for the romance. Well, it took her to the third book and now she's pulling out the romance. Don't need that. I read to escape. I want action and characters I can get into. That's it. I'm not too fussy. It's not like I read philosophy or theology texts to show how smart I am. When I's to get away from the world for a bit. That's it. So c'mon you writers out there...give me something I can escape into.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Beware of Limbo Dancers

Written with care
on the bathroom stall
Much more profound
than words penned on a wall
As I squat in the mists
of my mexican lunch
I'm at my most vulnerable,
pants down in a bunch
Paranoia creeps in,
I look left and right
The gray painted partitions
are all that's in sight
Am I in danger?
My mind doesn't know
Then faintly, through plumbing,
I hear calypso
It builds in it's timbre, the volume grows high
Then under the door
I hear a small cry
The scuffling of feet
then the tip of a toe
Before too much longer
a whole leg will show
His body, this dancer,
contorts like a twig
Bent backward grotesquely
in his gymnastic jig
By now, I see torso,
then shoulders appear
His arms flail like windsocks
Skilled balance without peer
The last of this human
comes under the door
Six inches to clear
from bottom to floor
His tightly wound face
tells the story of strain
Once done, he'll be spent
He can't do it again
With one final grunt
And a sigh of relief
He clears the six inches
and grins like a thief
He jumps with a start
as my person he's spied
I lean on my knees
and say soft, "Occupied."

Copyright 2000 Marty Gordon

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

2 Poems called "Wow"

Lots of things are wow.
Life is.
Love is.
Art is.
Faith is.
And on and on.
Too bad today
Was an anti-wow day.

Wonder of worship.
The joy of praise.
The celebration of creation.
As in child-like.
Eyes wide open
Seeing things in a new way.
As in, "What is it?"
Leads to discovery
Or more questions.
As in miracles.
An act of wonder.
As in innocence
Eyes wide
Mouth open
Blood rushing to our head.
We discover
The incredible
And all we can say is

Copyright 2000 Marty Gordon

Jackhammer Clock

Time keeps on
Into the future.
Slip it does
But not quietly.
Time is a noisy passing.
It throbs with cardiac pulse
Like a jackhammer clock
In your head.
The staccato
At times.
Mostly maddening.
Pounding insane rhythms,
Reminding you in 4/4 time
Your life is wasted
If only you had tasted
But no.
Those are false.
Truth is
The jackhammer clock
Beats on
With cardiac pulse
The jackhammer clock
Beats no more.
Peace at last.

Copyright 2000 Marty Gordon

Nathan Olivera on Art

"All art is a series of recoveries from the first line. The hardest thing to do is to put down the first line. But you must."

Chuck Close on Art

"Why make art? Because I think there's a child's voice in every artist saying: 'I am here. I am somebody. I made this. Won't you look?' The first painting ever was by some artist at Lascaux or Altamira or wherever, who put his hand on the wall and then blew soot through a straw around his hand. What is it about people that since the dawn of time we've wanted to mark our presence so that other people will see it? I man, people always wonder how paintings get made. How do they magically transcend their physicality? How do you take a stick with hairs on it, rub it in colored dirt, wipe it on a piece of cloth wrapped around some wood and make space where it doesn't exist? I am no closer to understanding it today than when I began."


Found my friend Antjuan. I sent emails to 3 different addresses I found online. He responded. He's living in San Fran now with his fiance with a baby on the way. He says he may be coming back up here before Dec. so maybe I will get to see him. I haven't seen him since '97 when I lived in Birmingham. He lived next door. Being a black man, he was scared to approach me because he thought I was a biker. (I had long hair then) He finally approached to borrow a broom and he said he was an artist and I said I was an artist and -boom- we clicked just like that. I have 2 of his paintings and he has one of mine. I keep up with his work online. I hope we get to cross paths again.

Inspired by the Movie "Contact"

A bolt from the blue
Has struck you
And no one else.
A light from the sky
Hits your eye
But you can't tell.
There are no words that can prove.
You can't deny your heart is moved.
No one believes but that can't sooth
The dawning faith that's come to you.
It's a message from above.
It's believing in the love
That has gripped you.
The force that has tripped you
Into taking that path
You've never seen before.
It's a joy you can't explain
Falling down on you like rain
That will soon dry.
They can't see with their eye
The life-changing flood
That you're diving into
After something much bigger than you makes

Copyright 2002 Marty Gordon

Monday, September 26, 2005

Leaving Ruin

Saw this wonderful one-man show the other night. I was mesmerized. Having been a minister who was "kicked out on his ear" I totally understood where this whole story was coming from. It helped me too. I don't know how but it did. Here's a synopsis of the play.

LEAVING RUIN, a warm, poignant tale of a small West Texas church in the nowhere town of Ruin, centers around Cyrus Manning, preacher for the First Church of Ruin--Church of the Bible. In his eleventh year at First Church, Cyrus has come on difficult times. He and his family--Sara, his wife of almost twenty years, and his two young sons, Wayne and Richard--face an unhappy congregation, with an impending congregational vote on the horizon. Cyrus believes "the nays have it" and he cannot make heads or tails of the situation. A thoughtful, prayerful man, Cyrus grapples for some sense of God's leading. His once vibrant call seems distant, but he wants to serve. Is his ministry over? Must he face a new life, a new home, a new career? And if so, how?

LEAVING RUIN chronicles the tough, often humorous battle of a man chasing the will of God in a time of what seems to be divine silence. Cyrus rummages through memories and old dreams, but the characters inhabiting his past offer no answers, and his frustration is ever on the verge of spilling into a shouting match with the silence. Through his humor, his lament, and his faith, Cyrus wrestles with God, hoping for a break in the silence, hoping finally to hear that elusive word of blessing and affirmation, a word that sometimes comes only with quiet. Finally, he must speak to the congregation. Should he fight, yield, or be silent? A surprising gift offers no easy solution, but Cyrus may yet find the faith and courage he needs to go on.

LEAVING RUIN is a story-telling adventure calling us to love and faithfulness, even in times of God's silence, trusting that His call and wisdom will come, though it may be murky, and not necessarily what we had in mind.

Pearls To Swine

Verse 1
Don't be flip.
You're not hip.
You're just throwing caution to the wind.
Reducing God's word to a slogan.
I can't help but think that's a sin.
The world's quite used to gobbling up swill.
There was no gourmet bistro on Golgotha's hill.
You're throwing pearls to swine.
You're just wasting time.
A pig is smarter than a dog
And they've made up their mind.
They're doing just fine
On the slop on which they dine.
So don't waste your time
Throwing pearls to swine.
Verse 2
Serving drinks
To what stinks.
You'd best save that vintage for another day.
You're a fool.
Go to school.
Learn the lessons that keep the pigs at bay.
The hogs are thrilled to wrestle down in the mud.
But you best be careful or they'll drag you down, bud.
Repeat Chorus

Copyright 2002 Marty Gordon

There is a Light

There is a light
Called the one true thing.
It shines
Like a golden ring.
It shimmers
Like a song we sing.
And it will never
Go away.
It is here to stay.

Get Smart (A Call to Learning)

I hate dumb.
Mind numb.
Knowing zip.
What a rip.
Never read.
Never feed.
Brain dead.
Empty head.
Open up.
Fill the cup.
Drink it down.
Go to town.
Use it
Or lose it.
Don't waste
The taste.
Take heart.
Get smart.

Filling the Creative Well

Reaching the bleached brain.
Tabula rasa.
The blank slate.
Chalk up the cue.
Make a mark
To start
The learning.
One stroke of the pen
Followed once again
By another
And another
And another.
Filling the blank canvas
Of the mind
With knowledge sublime.
Ignorance fades.
Wade in the pool
Of knowing.
Fill up.
Reaching the bleached brain.
Color the mind.

Romans 15:13 (Bovine Version)

How now brown cow?
How low can you mow?
If the grass won't grow
No green can be seen
Where once green had been.
It's brown.
Big frown.
Head down.
Where will you meet to eat?
Shuffle your feet.
Move around.
Look around.
Still brown
All the way to town.
What now brown cow?
Lose hope?
Sit and mope?
Learn to cope?
Stand by?
Moan and cry
Until you die?
And obey.
Be healed.
Soon there will be
Green fields.
Hold up your chin.
Begin again.
How now brown cow?
So much hope
You can't cope.
That will never cease.

Copyright 2002 Marty Gordon

Friday, September 23, 2005

Fall in Seattle

While the rest of the country swelters in record heat and deals with hurricanes of catastrophic proportions, we in Seattle are enjoying some nice Fall weather. Temps are in the 60's daily and fall to the 40's at night. The air is crisp and cool but the trees seem to be a might confused. Some are turning while others have turned. It's an uneven beauty unlike the breathtaking views one can see in the mountains of NC. Still, the weather's fine and I'm enjoying it. I know Winter in Seattle is said to be a dismal, misty mess so until then, I will enjoy the Fall.

Thursday, September 22, 2005


I seem to be having doubts about where Sarah and I are attending church. It's a great little church and the people are nice but we are having trouble connecting and it meets at the theatre where Sarah works so that is not so good for her having to be there another day of the week. The trouble to find a church that is right for us. My doubts stem from my recent involvement with the worship band. I really don't enjoy it. I don't seem to be connecting with the other folks and I don't like the disorganization related to getting ready for services. I've always been one to value my time and the time of others. I don't like to feel my time is being wasted. My sense of humor seems to fall flat with these people and my experience doesn't seem to matter. There doesn't seem to be a desire for excellence among them and a "status quo" attitude seems to be prevalent. Last night, one of the members seemed put out to be flexible in a situation where a guitarist is needed but not available. If there's one thing you have to be if involved in church music it's flexible. I don't know what to think. Is it them or is it me or is it a combination of both?

More Weird Poetry

Johnny Rot is full of snot
He blows his nose with style
He has a tie dyed handkerchief
To deal with all the bile
So now he's making sculpture
Some people think it's vulgar
To shape and pose things from his nose
He's a clever little booger

Minnie Merle's a hula girl
She shimmy's, shakes and dips
It takes a lot of stamina
To tell stories with one's hips
A lightning storm, which was the norm
Knocked down the power wire
She lit some wicks to practice kicks
Now her grass skirt is on fire

Jacob Gax has chronic wax
That builds up in his ears
He tries to clean them constantly
But more just reappears
Those globs of goo start to accrue
You really ought to see 'em
So what he's grown is now on loan
At the local wax museum

Copyright 2005 Marty Gordon

Weird Poetry

Jackie boy's favorite toy
Is a headless doll named Al
Jackie boy loves his toy
It is his best-loved pal
The head is lost, we don't know where
It popped off on the rug
Perhaps young Jackie shouldn't squeeze
So hard when he gives hugs

Jimmy Keen lost his spleen
In a freaky accident
He ran too fast into the woods
Tripped on a log and went
The doctor put it in a jar
He keeps it on a shelf
And when he's feeling incomplete
He looks upon himself

Willy Wee is 8 foot 3
A tad bit short of 9
He's quite content to be that tall
The weather up there's fine
But Willy Wee went up to ski
The mountains on a date
He fell real bad and now he's sad
'Cuz now he's 3 foot 8

Becca Boo is such a shrew
To everyone she's mean
She scares the witches off their brooms
On every Halloween
But Huey Hoo loved Becca Boo
He loved her strong and true
It melted her heart, that angry tart
And now she cries, "Boo-Hoo."

Neddy Bock has dreadlocks
In Jamaica he's a hit
But soldiers in the army
Well, they don't give a spit
Neddy Bock met Sgt. Mock
"You look a sight," he called
Sarge took him to a barber
And now old Neddy's bald

Sammy Spud just loved the mud
In dirt he'd play and play
His mom would try to clean him up
But he stayed the color gray
One time he played real near the pond
And on him crawled a leech
It breached the crud and sucked his blood
Now Sammy bathes in bleach

Pammy Bam ate nothing but jam
On toast and bread and spoon
Strawberry, grape and marmalade
Morning, night and noon
Eating jelly, she grew a belly
And soon began to sneeze
Now Pammy Bam's on insulin
'Cuz she has diabetes

Lemmy Slug is such a bug
The people want to squish him
He dodges shoes all day long
And soon he started wishin'
"I wish I was a giant
With shoes on big, old feet
Then I could squish the people
That I might chance to meet

Bessie June went to the moon
She dwelled inside a crater
The Moonie Men who lived there
Soon began to hate her
She swept up all the moon rocks
And put them in a case
But Moonie Men, the like moon rocks
To decorate their place

Timmy Thicket is a cricket
He plays accordion
The other crickets tease him
For not playing violin
The teasing hurts poor Timmy
But he's too proud to beg
Besides, he can't play violin
Poor Timmy's got no legs

Poltice Fig danced a jig
He liked to sway and swing
He cut a rug, that graceful fig
He was a prancing thing
Someone lost their marbles
And Poltice rolled and slipped
Now he doesn't dance no more
With his light fantastic tripped

The King of Mole lives in a hole
But it's cozy, bright and clean
He moved aside the dirt and mud
And trimmed the roots between
It rained one day and half the night
His home began to flood
And so the mighty King of Mole
Is now the king of mud

Daffy Nate went on a date
With Loony Nora Lum
She laughed at all his crazy jokes
Although they were quite dumb
Now Daffy Nate and Loony Lum
Are married with 10 tots
Their dating life was lots of fun
But married life is not

Mimsy Moore sits on the floor
Arranging peas and flowers
Although the combo seems quite odd
She whiles away the hours
She wants a pea and flower shop
Her dream for quite some time
But peas and flowers just won't sell
Not even for a dime

Howie Nows loves white cows
Their color gives him cause
To paint them in an earthly hue
With brushes, pens and gauze
He is quite famous in the land
From Kalamazoo to Laos
His gallery's name, it seems quite right
Howie Now's Brown Cows

Parker Gack has the knack
For talking to the mice
He doesn't like the squirrels too much
But rodents he thinks nice
He had 100 in his home
1000 in his attic
And 23 in his TV
Now all he gets is static

Peter Fleen loves Halloween
He decorates every room
In orange and green he can be seen
Donned in his pumpkin costume
He treasures most his friend the ghost
And a black cat name of Whiz
They trick or treat in rain and sleet
No matter what day it is

Tex McRoy is a cowboy
More cow than boy they say
He's mounted horns upon his hat
And he eats alot of hay
He fell in love with Bessie
A lovely heifer chick
He's milking it for all it's worth
But it's really udderly sick

Jacques LeMoo runs a zoo
For chickens, pigs and ducks
He doesn't like the other sorts
Just those that oink and cluck
One windy day, a cow blew in
It caused alot of grief
Jacques solved the problem with his axe
And now their set for beef

Eb and Flo are twins you know
They live next to the ocean
The tides move in, the tides move out
Based on their least emotion
One day Eb was feeling cold
But Flo was getting hotter
They fought about the temperature
And now they're underwater

Nikki Nell has gone to Hell
To visit Uncle Scratch
She lights her pipe upon the rocks
She doesn't need a match
Her Uncle Scratch is not at home
He won't answer the bell
So Nikki has to turn around
And get the hell out of Hell

Toffee Sote had a goat
It ate up cans and weeds
The goat, it's name was Saffron Sue
And followed Toffee's lead
It followed her to school one day
And ate up all the books
Now when Toffee does homework
Inside the goat she looks

Hurricane Ned has a big head
It's full of heated air
Everywhere that Ned does go
The people point and stare
All eyes on Ned, he hates his head
And wishes it would shrink
Suddenly, Ned burps real loud
Small head, but what a stink

LaLa Baines sings in the rain
And dances in the puddles
The ducks all swim in rhythm
And the worms all coo and cuddle
LaLa's notes are perfect pitched
Though good, she never gloats
And after singing, gargles
With raindrops down her throat

Skully Boo has one tattoo
It covers head to toe
He's painted like a skeleton
So he looks rather dead
At Halloween, he looks real keen
No costume does he wear
He wins the costume contest every year
Now, that really isn't fair

Copyright 2005 Marty Gordon

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Blast from the Past

Sarah and I watched this movie tonight. I had seen it years ago but had forgotten how good it is. The thing that struck me the most during tonight's viewing was the concept of innocence versus innocence lost. When Adam's father ascends from the shelter after 35 years, he enters an area of town that is run down and crime ridden. He immediately thinks the world hasn't recovered from the bomb and that mutants walk the earth. In seeing the world as it is today, that isn't far from the truth. The world is in a ghastly state and it gets worse everyday. But I love the way Adam faced the new world. He didn't compromise. He stood up for his values and morals. (I love the scene where he chastises a man for using the Lord's name in vain) In one scene, he sits in a rainstorm. Eve walks out to cover him with an umbrella and he says something like, "There's a miracle in everything." It's the same when he sees the sky and the ocean for the first time. He revels in it. He doesn't take it for granted like we do. Sure, everyone thinks he's a weirdo and they even try to have him committed but he stands firm in his integrity. Wow. More Christians should see this movie and glean the lessons it teaches in an entertaining way. Adam stands up for his beliefs. He loves people unconditionally. He greets each new day as an opportunity. Good gosh! This movie is a sermon.

Sunday, September 18, 2005


Dead Beat by Jim Butcher - Jim Butcher's Dresden Files novels have been compared to Harry Potter with an adult tone and attitude. Now, in his first hardcover adventure, Harry Dresden must save Chicago from black magic and necromancy-all in a day's work for the city's only professional wizard. I have read all of these. This is book seven. Although "Dead Beat" isn't as good as some of the others, I still find the whole series very enjoyable. It throws just enough supernatural and just enough reality into an urban landscape to please me. I don't like hardcore fantasy or sci-fi. I need it blended with a little bit of everyday normalcy. Anyway, I hope Jim Butcher keeps cranking them out because I'll keep reading them if he does.

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Car Show

Here we are at the Car Show that was some time back. I just wanted to post this pic before I lose access to a convenient computer. Gary is to my left. I've been staying with him and his wife Sheri. That's Margaret to my right. She works at Taproot. And of course, that's me and the lovely Sarah in the middle.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Seattle Stuff

Yesterday, Sarah and I visited the Seattle Aquarium. It's nice but not as extensive as I had hoped. They are undergoing construction so maybe it will be expanded in the future. It's so difficult to find affordable parking downtown. We finally found a spot for $5. At the aquarium, we did get the treat of seeing someone examine a pregnant shark. She's going to deliver in the next couple of weeks. Sharks stay pregnant for 2 years. Whew! Long time. After the aquarium, we perused the shops in that area. We found a "pirate store" (Arr!) and Ye Olde Curiosity Shop. It should have been called Ye Olde Crappe Shop. It was full of few curiosities but lots of touristy junk. Later, we went to my storage unit and grabbed my big Jesus paintings. I'm donating them to Taproot for their yard sale which is this Saturday. Hope they sell and they get a decent price out of them. Today, it's back to the temp job. Maybe tomorrow as well. Thursday I'm supposed to observe an art class and see about teaching myself.

Monday, September 05, 2005

Alina and the Bear

Got an email from my friend Alina in Asheville. Here's what she had to say:

"A tree fell on my car last Tuesday thanks to Katrina. It was one of the smaller trees so it just dented the roof, hood and the passenger side door. Jerry saw the whole thing. He just heard a crack and a whoomp and it was done. Jerry and I went hiking today at a place we go all the time and never had any problems. This time we saw a black bear with two cubs just sitting across the trail we were heading to cross. I don't think I've ever run so fast. If I didn't want to draw attention to myself I would have screamed like a little girl while I was booking it."

(I would have paid money to see her running away from that bear. Priceless.)

Sunday, September 04, 2005

Washington Wal-Mart

Arrgh! Wal-Mart is the same everywhere you go. We made the mistake of finding one after our relaxing Edmonds trip. Our relaxation soon turned to frustration. Wal-Mart seems to draw the dregs of society, like bugs to a light on the front porch. We wouldn't have gone but my allergy medicine is so much cheaper there. So, along with the other dregs, we fought tooth and nail to find our merchandise and then headed to the long lines at the front. The cashier said it was like that all the time. We soon made our purchases and made it out of the parking lot alive. I really don't understand why Wal-Mart has to be the scary place that it is. What is it about discount retail shopping that brings out the worst in people? I wish I knew. I just hate going there. My preference is Target but, alas, they do not carry my allergy medicine. Perhaps I'll just order it on the Wal-Mart website next time. It drives me bonkers to go there.


Yesterday, Sarah and I visited Edmonds, Washington, a quaint village nestled next to Puget Sound. We first headed into town, checking out a few shops and antique stores. When it was time for lunch, we soon learned that there are no bargains to be found on food in Edmonds. We settled for an overpriced mexican place where the food was so-so. Next time we come, we're packing a picnic lunch to eat by the water. After strolling through the street market after lunch, listening to the teen jazz ensemble on one end and the "ghost girls" playing violin on the other end, (they were talented but very pale) we headed to the ferry for a ride over to Kingston. The ferry ride was fantastic! It was so great to be on the water. I was so glad I took my jacket because it was downright cold on the boat. But a refreshing cold. I loved it. After finding that Kingston is a very, very small place (translation: nothing to do) , we got ice cream and boarded the ferry for the return trip. It was too short. Being on the water was really great. The smell of the salt air was very, very good for us. Since I am without job and we are on a budget, a longer cruise is out of our reach right now. We hope to take one of the lake cruises in Seattle sometime. Being on the water is so nice. I want to do more of that.

Saturday, September 03, 2005


The Rift by Walter J. Williams - A monster earthquake devastates the delta area of the United States. Rising from the rubble, opportunistic evangelists and racists take advantage of the situation and form their own idealistic communities. An unemployed engineer and a teenage boy survive the elements and rebel against these and other monstrous conditions in a world gone mad. What a long book. Almost 1000 pages. Took me a while because I would get a little bored and put it down. It was an okay story but nothing to write home about. The italicized accounts of an earlier earthquake were boring and unnecessary. So, if you enjoy disaster novels, this one is just so-so.
Tales to Astonish by Ronin Ro - An account of the early days of comics focusing on Stan Lee and Jack Kirby. Not the best book I've ever read. The tidbits of info were disjointed, the narrative would fracture from time to time. I guess the one thing I got from this book was that all was not a rosy paradise in the comic book world. One would think that folks who spend their lives entertaining us with fantastic characters and ever more fantastic stories would be happy about that. Not so. Stan Lee is painted as an egotistical, controlling schmooze-hound. Jack Kirby is shown as a stalwart, if not whiny, workhorse. Apparently, Marvel has mistreated many, many folks over the years (DC not much better) and this book tells it all.