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Jack Stull's Groups
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Dome Guys
38 members
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Community Gardens - Urba…
24 members
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Astrology, Psychology &…
9 members
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Fair Trade
15 members
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Green Technologies
20 members
Jack Stull's Discussions
Jack Hoot's Poetry
winter song
there is a low howling here
that comes from the sun.
listen to the wind chimes
and how they’re possessed.
their hollow tones ringing through the neighborhoods
about something invisible.
look at how the trees bend and sway
as if under water
waiving in slow motion
at something invisible.
this valley is unified
by the thick red light
that paints the grasses and the cliff faces
that paints the Indian blood, the red earth.
things are stained and there’s a song about it
droning on in the background
behind the movements of our machines
and the movements of the wind splitters
the people walking over sidewalks to their lives.
we think there’s something more than walking
with the song and seeing the trees dance
but there’s not.
we think there’s something more we’ve got to do
other than feel the valley’s breath
that comes down from the red cliffs
to the winter grasses
but there’s not.
The Impossible Future
There was a series of unfortunate eventsand the world passed us by in a flurry.
Before we knew it, we looked around
and didn’t recognize a thing.
We see trees and buildings and fenced yards
with cats slinking through them.
We see lonely houses with elongated towers
and crows waiting in the trees nearby.
We see rows of little birds on telephone wires
and the sun glowing red behind their black figures
and the neighborhoods growing dim.
The dark rising from where dark rises from
with the sun sinking in.
We slink through the shadows in a world
going to shadow, and don’t know how we got here.
These are the neighborhoods that turn
with the deepening dusk in a foreign language.
As we slip by invisibly because we’re not
from around here and never will be
from around here even though we live
down the street.
The town has a consciousness
that we cannot penetrate, as we slide
past the fences, the yards and the gargoyles,
the cats hurrying from bush to bush,
and the crows eying driveways.
This is all part of a story not meant for us.
This is our impossible future.
Passing Through
I do know that I was sitting alone.There was a distinct feeling
that I was waiting for a bus.
I wasn’t really waiting
for a bus, but for death,
or for my eternal life
which was all around me.
I didn’t know if I’d
ever write again,
or who I’d be without
my writing.
Death comes as a feeling of passing through,
when we see that we’re not
from around here.
We are always passing through.
We are always not
from around here.
I am a solitary bird, I forgot
to tell you.
Watching the newspapers flap against the buildings
and then fall still.
Listening to the newspapers rustle between fingers
and the background music.
I forgot to tell you
I’m not lonely
even though I spend
my mornings in silence.
I forgot to tell you
I’ll never be lonely again.
Because I found where I belong
where everything’s moving
and I’m still, or
where I’m moving
and everything’s still,
or where we’re all moving or still
together, with only the bus
to think about
that never comes,
only the feeling of it coming comes,
only the feeling of an eminent departure
of never arriving
flapping around like the newspapers
and watching ourselves.
Sometimes it’s obvious,
that we’re all ghosts.
Our bodies phantoms
in the café light
while the gray day grows
outside despite.
Drinking our phantom coffees, with our
phantom voices echoing.
We’ve been a lot of places
and have forgotten most of them.
We’ve been a lot of people
and have forgotten most of them.
Even though they’re as close to us
as our breath, as familiar as our warmth that glows.
This will all crumble someday
and we’ll be somewhere else,
having passed through,
waiting for a bus somewhere else.
Another bus stop full of ghosts
sitting with our steaming coffees
and our gourmet treats, and our breath
vanishing just like before,
but with a few different thoughts.
I forgot to tell you,
I like my aloneness
in the company of everything
that’s passing through, just
as I am.
I forgot to tell you
that I’m at the bus station
but I’m not leaving.
Someday, I’ll scribble
a few sentences that will last,
and then even those will perish.
Walk with me later
after I’ve been alone,
and we’ll watch the day pass
and we’ll rustle the papers
between our fingers
like a couple of ghosts
who don’t know they’re ghosts.
Jack's Space
Jack Stull's Blog
Going Car-less, And The "Secret" To Taking Walks
Today I was laughing about the fact that I used to drive downtown from my apartment, which is only about a mile away. Now I am slightly embarrassed to admit that I would do this nearly every day, drive my not-so-eco-friendly v-8 beast of a BMW downtown, then around looking for parking, refusing to park a couple of blocks from my destination. I had a certain stubbornness about finding the primo spot, the one with easy access, and would circle like a hawk or vulture until I could pounce on the
… ContinuePosted on March 4, 2009 at 8:30pm — 1 Comment
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Latest Activity
This is really great!
Todd DiRoberto
http://www.newsguide.us/art-entertainment/movies/Todd-DiRoberto-of-American-Satellite-Hosts-Independence-Day-Charity-Event-for-Operation-Bigs/
This group provides a place for Paul Rodgers fans to "get together".
I do the biking thing more and more... even touring for broker tour... Why not?
Dome Guys is a company out of Ashland, Oregon that sells and constructs geodesic domes for living and entertainment.
Profile Information
- Where are you from. City, State, Country
- Ashland, Oregon, USA
- Website:
- http://specksofwonder.blogspot.com/
Jack Stull's Videos
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A Modern-Day DaVinci Genius?
Added by Jack Stull
Comment Wall (20 comments)
- At 2:15am on March 12, 2009,
Molly Glover said…
- You have cards of some sort? I meet people every time I go out who would use EQ if it were easier to find/remember.
Again I tell you how many people I could get here if only there were some sort of craigslist type search engine!
I miss you.
Call me?
- At 1:01pm on March 3, 2009,
- Hi poot.
I'm going to start using EQ again.
How are you?
- At 10:08am on October 30, 2008,
Ayala said… - JaaAAAaack!!! I recognise those eyebrows, mdear... they're yer mom's. right?? 'S been a couple DECADES since I've been around Bodega, half my life ago lived 'way back in on the Pastures... #1 & #2 Sons Stephen & Benj fished with your dad, #3 & #4 Sons South & Olin were good buddies with yer bro Sam and went to your mom's preschool. LOVE your family!!! Do give big hugs to all. Funny to see you probably taller'n me, remember you best as your mother's armful. Looks like you're in full bloom now! Good work, darlin'!
- At 2:01pm on October 4, 2008,
Derek Reuter said… - Well since ning uses cookies for its storage. I deleted my cookies and that was able to free up the actions. I guess if you fly around ning sites alot, this action will become necesary eventually. Although it does force you to relog in to all your accounts when encountering them. Thanks for the help, hope this helps for future reference.
Derek
btw, what a great site, boookooo kootooss
- At 11:45am on October 4, 2008,
Derek Reuter said…
- I am having loading problems and group add request problems with your Ning site. Wondering what I can do on my end to alleviate such problems. Any advice?
- At 12:25am on June 22, 2008,
Myla Moon said… - thank you for the welcome!Looking forward to sharing. You are truly handsome. Hard to be fooled by appearances when the eyes are window unto the soul.
- At 3:23am on May 1, 2008,
vincent said… - thank you Jack, i am from northern part of india....dont know how did i end up into this thing but sure its nice till now..
- At 4:09am on April 28, 2008,
geoffrey said… - yeah thnx for the comment man i have no idea what i'm doing on this thing... but yeah later
- At 12:36pm on April 7, 2008,
Susan said… - Hi Jack,
My awesome friend, Shiloh Boss, invited me to her EQ blog- here's the link: http://connect.eq.tv/profiles/blog/show?id=801594%3ABlogPost%3A41015
Thanks for the welcome.
Sus
- At 9:50pm on August 20, 2007,
Roland Cheesepod said… - so, can I relax now
that I've done this, that, and the other?
is it enough now
that I've crossed everything off
my list of the morning?
can I get off this flywheel now
this flywheel the size of Alaska
with momentum enough
to crush a brontosaurus
like a flea?
no - a silly idea,
I am shackled still
to the arc of history
clanking up
and clanking down
an idiot child
of boulders run amok
in the deep rut
of their remembrance
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