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Sunday, December 27, 2009

Hedgehog in the Fog

Such a beautiful piece. I wanted to share it before the holiday season was over.
Check it out!



If you'd like more info on the "Hedgehog in the Fog" it can be found here.

See Ya!
BH

Monday, December 21, 2009

Potential Energy

Stillness sits alone
inside this space
as warm light
caresses white walls
spotting them
with splashes of shadow
and amber glow

Ideas
and all acquired knowledge
rest deep
on shelves
in pages
or in chaotic sequence
scattered across
the chilled stone floors

Memoirs and relics
of association
have placed themselves
knowingly
within their
proper places
ready to remind
and recall

All sound has ceased
and this space
lies stagnant
as the forgotten pond
waiting
with disregard for time
as dust
hugs the cracks and crevices
for a stone
to break the surface
instill life
m o ve m ole cul es.

B
H

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

The Stones.

Each stone
slid across the
restful lake's
surface
like a dancer's grapevine
sending ring after ring
rolling along
simulating
reality's many realms
just like sound

However

The fish don't mind.
They continued
their
dawdling meditation
opening mind's eye
to view
abstract pieces
oil painting and sculpture
of worm and fly.

Another stone
skates the surface.
The sub aqueous sonance
is that
of a million
microscopic universal
implosions.

This is terrifying
for paramecium,
but the fish
don't mind,
the stones don't mind,
the lake don't mind.

All is well
the moon is high.
When the stones fly
you can almost
hear their
gleeful resonance...

"Weeeeee!"

-BH

Monday, November 16, 2009

Absent Friends

I'M SORRY!! I'll get back to work.
But when you think about it
you're just as guilty as I am.

We both completely deserted this blog
it was alone in the world
existing only

with in ones
and zeros.

And when you think about it
being between one,
which is the loneliest number

and zero
which is nothing
is

a terrible place
to be.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Forces of Nature

Gravity, being a real asshole, was in a particularly bad mood. No one is really clear as to the reason why, but when you spend all of your time keeping people down, the emotional exhaustion can be quite taxing. Carl was sharpening his pencil on the 7th floor of his office building, when all of a sudden, Gravity got tired of keeping him grounded. So it let go. Carl slowly drifted to the the ceiling, with an expression on his face that indicated pure terror. Pressed against the white boards, he gently waved his arms as if trying to swim. 0g however, doesn't work that way. Carl only succeeded in catching a small breeze which sent him floating over towards a window which was left carelessly opened. This caught the attention of his co-workers, who's gaping mouths and wide eyes did no more to help him than the non-existent window blinds. Carl began to slip right out of the window. Ted, being a friend to Carl, ran after him trying to offer him a hand or broomstick to hold onto, but he was too late for Carl had already succeeded in drifting up into the cerulean sky and soon would be floating out in the nothingness of space.

Ted was sad, as was Carl's girlfriend Amy. She never dated again. Instead, she devoted her days to promoting oral hygiene. She would occasionally paint portraits of rolling pins. Carl's parents were both senile and had completely forgotten that Carl was ever born, but for some reason they couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Carl's dog, Biscuits, succeeded in digging himself out of their apartment, and finding a new family that would feed him puppy mix regularly. He was happy. However, missing his original owner, Biscuits would engage in a weekly ritual which consisted of chewing at the curtains and howling the melody of "I'll stand by you" by the pretenders towards the sky, waiting to hear a response from his master.

Carl wasn't heard from for a long time. And everyone cared...

except for Gravity.



BH



PS. Listen to the Gorillaz...


El Manana - Gorillaz

GorillazMySpace Music Videos

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Neck. Tie.

I tie my neck to my shoulders
with silk and cloth,
argyle and tartan,
an inexplicable knot
of Gordian proportions.

I wear a lapelled jacket
to frame my tie,
accentuate it.
Black or blue,
because I have to.

And buy my pants
to match my jacket,
to tuck my shirt,
to frame my tie,
hide my penis,
and cover my ass.

I buy black socks
for no real reason.
Maybe I'm just compelled to,

but my shiny shoes
are designed to attract women,
protect my red painted toenails,
hide my practical socks,
and protect my ankles
when dogs nip at my heels.

My cuff links
link my cuffs.

My tie pin
pins my tie.

And all are designed
to attract your eye
to my wonderful tie,
which I can't live without.

I must tie my neck down,
to keep my head on straight .

-BH

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Whimsical Judgement


Bang the gavel
once or twice!
Bang it
once or twice
Again!

Bang it once
to
rouse the spirit!
bang it twice
if you'll condemn!
bang it
three times!
Oh yes, three!
if there is something
worse in store!

Bang it
four times!
Make them cry!
and if they don't
then Bang some more!

-BH!

Thursday, August 27, 2009

She is.

She's the love,
and I dreamt of her
while walking,

And I think of her
upon sleeping,

And I yearn for her,
even now.

And nothing as sweet
will touch these lips,

And she in aesthetics
crushes all form.

For men didn't make her,
Women didn't shape her;

She was shaped
by billions of years
of coincidence.

Or a very careful hand
with brilliant love,
and a passion for perfection.

She is my love,
and she is benevolence,
and she is absolution,
and she is.

BH

Monday, August 10, 2009

In America

I've never heard
of your home,
where you toil
under burning stars:
to breathe,
to perfect,
beautify,
this tiny stronghold;
still waving flags,
and traditions,
long ago rejected.

Your life
is of devotion,
to save
this miniscule fortress
of charm
and desolation,
and you smile
with hope;
but little spirit,
I've never heard
of your home
or your savior,
who you call
Freedom.

BH

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Thoughts

Where I've been: I left my Brooklyn Apt back in late May to go on the rd, I guess that's why I've been so bad with posting.

What I've been doing: Performing mostly. I'm an actor you see. A friend and I have been doing a touring show for the past two months and driving around the southwest. Most of my summer has consisted of debt, cigarettes, awkward hotels, even more awkward situations, love, alcohol, and a new found respect for both the city and where I grew up.

Hows the writing going?: I finished my manuscript, and am working on some stand alone submissions. You guys have no idea how hard it is just to post on this thing, sending entire books to strangers is TERRIFYING. I have no desire to become a member of the writing, acting, directing, or songwriting communities even though I love doing all of those. I do, however, feel I owe it to myself, and the people who support what I do to at least try to take it all a step further.

When's the next post?: Tomorrow maybe.

Debt?: I don't wanna talk about it.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Just in Case

Here's my facebook account.
Big step right?
nah not really.
Maybe you'd like to be friends.
My Facebook.

BH:)

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

From the rd: Tennessee

Mountain face

like graveyard stone

like Giant's toes

in Tennessee.



Cloudy head

You daydream thus

a dream to move

an inch or two.



Sleepy frown

slurping your breath

you inhale sky

and exhale tree.



Land you know

surrounding thee

is where we dream

of God in You.



BH

7-22-09

7:23 pm

The Road, Tennessee.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

With Love, from the road.

Merrily then we wept upon the shore
Forgetting happiness but as a bind
To measure that which there is no tool for
Save for action and solace both in kind.

And underneath umbrellas wrapped in sheets
Of spirit cleansing ebbs of blinding rain
we grip the handle case our eyes should meet
To brace ourselves 'gainst Love's eternal pain.

For every flower thinks itself a song
A melody played out in root and stem
A tune with which we both must sing along
a dream that once inside we share with them.

And though we know no love greater than ours
'Tis recognized the sunlight who came first
And through this force that strengthens through rain showers
We will our ghosts to bind the universe.

-BH

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

A Silly Feeling

And if I had the chance,
I would ask you to dance,
just to love you in treble clef,
so you could hear the nuances,
of loving me in every key,
playing along you and me,
and I'm
So fine,
feeling as if I had found,
the pleasure then,
of taking flight upon a cloud,
another king,
and with that crown,
do right inside the ocean flight of ecstasies,
growing beneath the roots,
and holding up the branches,
Dancers caught in flirting glances,
with moonlight,
And rolling along the skin,
It calls me in,
with merriment and song,
and I take you along,
down my back it slides,
like currents into life,
All under heaven see,
from sea to shining sea,
and I'm,
So blue,
And so are you,
and that's not such a bad thing.

:)

Monday, June 8, 2009

Midnight in Columbia

I hear a bird chirpin'
It's past midnight
So he must be confused.

An unidentifiable insect
just ran across my notebook.
I've just killed it.

Its insides are smeared
across the letter "I"
and I

Immediately regret
doing what I just did.
That little fella didn't know...

I'm so sorry.

BH.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

On to Heaven

See if you can find the rhythm. It might help to read out loud. I rarely read my stuff out loud, but I'll admit that this is one of the few that I enjoy to read and hear.

Years and weeks and days,
And time is just as still,
As rooms and rivers without love,
and something underneath it all
continues still to rise,
and right above this normal plane,
are fields of flowing laughter,
And we're just tryin' to get that high,
for something isn't right,
We get so high when we feel low,
and though it isn't real,
we're wrapped up in the feeling,
cause it's all we'll really know,
When we can see the stars,
but just as white polka-dot ceilings,
it's just that freedoms hard,
and when then it is put to thought,
we get the more uneasy
at the thought of being free,
our feet don't look as sturdy
when we take off into flight,
so look to left and right
and make a life of horizontals,
connect point A to B or C,
don't worry 'bout the depth,
cause once you start to rise
you see the houses get much smaller,
and sweat in clouds and rainbows,
because you can fall so far,
and losing heaven hurts so bad,
but did you ever ponder,
how ugly then
are streets of gold?

-BH

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Hey :)

It's my birthday :)
-Holbrook

Monday, May 11, 2009

A note on Jimmy


People always told Jimmy
that he would probably be late for his own funeral.
I just don't understand
why they were so surprised
when he actually was...

-BH

Thursday, May 7, 2009

What I do at Work...


So I wrote this as a direct stream of consciousness, which means that you can't judge too harshly. I basically do things like this all day at work. -BH

Sellin' this bullshit,
I'm not excited,
Jesse's sellin' bullshit,
he ain't excited,
Ari's sellin' bullshit,
she ain't excited,
Katlyn's sellin bullshit,
she ain't excited,
Emily's got the day off,
I'd be excited,
I'm writin' shit down,
Jesse's on the internet,
Ari's watchin' videos,
Wonder if we'll all regret,
Wastin' this time here,
Empty money, empty time,
I console myself with pens,
just to keep my soul sublime,
what's with this art man?
Want to make it for the world,
pay me so that I can fly,
to Greensboro to see my girl,
New York is like that,
skinny cats get fat,
feedin' off the people,
when we get cheese, we look like rats,
Mercury risin'
It's good because the winters cold,
Love is still in retrograde,
Souls are still worth less than pearls,
Who built that clock man?
Geez it's tickin' awful fast,
feels like time is speedin' up,
twenty twelve will be a blast,
While we're waitin' for a raise,
waitin' in this endless daze,
waitin' for the end of days,
wadin' in this empty haze,
I'm just a crab guys,
so I'm walkin' sideways...


Saturday, May 2, 2009

For the Sake of...

Just bought a big
bottle of Sake.
I want people to think
I'm cool.
I'm gonna drink that sake,
'till I'm drunker than shit.
Then I'm gonna climb the
Empire State
and shout to the world;
"Hey world!
Ain't I cool!?:"
and if they say "no",
I'm gonna jump.

-BH
2-25-09
union square

bunny suicides

Friday, May 1, 2009

I Have Issues

Why?
Because I've been watching this Video.
How often?
3 times a day
every day
for the past 3 or 4 weeks.

I have a problem.
But I'm not lookin' to give it up
anytime soon.

...Why the hell did I write it like a poem!?!?


Friday, April 24, 2009

When E.L. goes

I remember her as formless.
Something of a wisp,
Kissing the back of my neck.
A lucid memory,
Like mist around your ankles,
And leaves about your hair.

She stands in my heart,
As God stands in the details,
And the details are of space
And time.
Something distant sings,
In harmony with the wind.

Peering through my window,
Wrapped in cloud cover,
A stringed ornament is used
To catch the melody.
Love is in the currents,
As time is in the imagination.

No one blinks,
As light flows
Like firefly rivers.
That light is of her skin,
As hers is paired with mine,
As stars sing throughout space.

-BH

Monday, April 6, 2009

I died.

Did I mention that I tend to disappear completely from time to time? It's gotten me in a lot of trouble, but I can't help my hermitic tendancies. So for the past 2 months I've not only been M.I.A from blogging (which I rarely do anyway) but I've been M.I.A from my family, my friends, and most social aspects of my life. However this time alone has given me time to put together a good amount of my work and I'm almost finished with a tangable manuscript, and two screenplays one of which I'll be filming this summer. Cool. My apologies to those who have been kind and who I've grown quite fond of.

PS. To dispel some rumors that my friends might've heard. I didn't disappear for any of the following reasons:
-I was on a 2 month crack binge.
-I found God.
-I found an incredible amount of money.
-Jesse killed me with a knife and a gun.
-Satan took my soul directly to spare me the trouble of living in vain.
-I decided to do a homeless social experiment.
-I was bitten by 3 rabid subway rats and 1 rabid mole person at coney island and quarintined myself until I could find a cure for super rabies.
-I was too sad to look the world in the face.

Love,
BH

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Holbrook Not Included

No man is an island,
except for me.
Nobody's perfect,
except for me.
Everybody makes mistakes,
except for me.
Every man is a king,
except for me.
Everybody plays the fool,
except for me.
Everybody hurts... sometimes...
...except for me...
Jesus loves everybody,
except for me.
Everybody is somebody,
except for me.
Everybody Wang Chung tonight!
except for me.
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down,
except for me.
Nobody escapes fate,
except for me.
Nobody likes a snitch,
except for me.
Everybody needs somebody,
except for me.
Everything is everything,
except for...
hmm,
that might not work.
-BH

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Life Through the Void

Mothers in different colors

Assorted flavors

lining up.


Such a beautiful flock

of Divinity.


They thrust the fabric

of the cosmos

into being.


We all look upon it.

Revel in its majesty.


Rarely do we realize

the ethereal nature of who...

or the ephemeral nature

of God...


BH.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Garden

There's a garden there,
with soft loamy soil
waiting for us.
It's a ways down the road,
after too many fights,
More love making than thought
humanly possible,
running into each other's arms
to hide,
making each other brave,
the two of us,
avoiding the world,
making strong,
facing the world,
Learning love,
beating the world.
After triumph,
and countless packs of
cigarettes,
and a myriad of potions,
there is a garden,
with soft soil,
and sunshine for our backs,
rain for our heads,
and a little wooden house,
silly cats
with ridiculous names,
gorgeous children...
or not...
And a plane ticket
waiting on the desk.
By candle light
it reads "______"
BH

Saturday, February 7, 2009

The American Way.

We have a method
in cities like this
for taking care
of moonstruck travellers
like you.
There aren't enough
dreams
to go around.
So you just calm down.
Do something else.
Be small,
you can pretend to be big,
pretend to be
important,
Demand the adoration
of children,
Leave your thumbprint
in fucked up lives.
That's fine.
That's American.
But dreaming,
but going for that Moon.
That ain't American.
That was the 60's,
the 60's weren't American either.
All of that shit
is foreign.
too foreign.
Out of this world even.
Aliens are weird,
and we don't take
too kindly
to their types
around here.
So choose.
You either give that
space shit up,
and find a destructive way
to vent.
Or you ride
fuckin fire tails
high into
the black backed ocean
chasin' stars
and lovin' moons.
But don't fly too low kid.
Or we'll shoot you down.
Just like
the 60's.

-BH


Wednesday, February 4, 2009

What the World Needs Now.








John Lennon was right,
Love is all you need.
But we ain't got that,
All we got is a feeling.
And love is a Verb.

-BH

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Horny Horny?

Oh greetings!
I'm a Horny Toad!
A very, very horny toad mind you.
Hide your wives,
lock away your daughters.
Shield your girlfriends,
I'm giving them looks at the bar.
I'm looking to get some,
to flick my beanie tongue,
to roll back my eyes.
I know I'm just a toad,
but I've got a fever.
A passion
ready to spew forth
like lava.
Please believe me,
please me,
don't tease me.
I'm such a fragile little thing,
and I spend so much time
Alone
in deserts .
So if you see me,
and find me disgusting,
shame on you!
We all get horny sometimes.
At least I'm not calling it
Love.

-BH


For a Dying Mother

O sweetheart.
My beautiful
full
Green Mother.
Feel you twirlin'
singin'
dancin' in blue moonlight.
O baby I see you smile
every early mornin'
little birds singin' to you
as it washes you sweet woman
in that warm liquid light.
You smile still
in the midst of all our tears.
Cause we know you're dyin'.
Every time we stop
we can feel it.
You feel it too mama,
you just don't dance
like you used to.
I wanna hug your
full, beautiful
woman's figure.
Caress your soft brown skin.
Kiss you softer than the sun does.
Those wrinkles don't matter to me mama,
you're still so, so beautiful.
And my father,
he still loves you.
You took such good care of us baby,
I'll take care of you now.
I'll dance with you.
Now show me that beautiful smile.

-BH

Friday, January 23, 2009

A few Haiku in 5:7:5

1.
When the snake seeks love,
No one comes with open arms,
So he bites instead.

2.
Saw my shattered glass,
Light through prisms shine on God,
This is my last dream.

3.
When I'm most alone,
Everyone else surrounds me,
solitude remains.

4.
Bought some roller skates,
Fell down and then scraped my knee,
Skating is for queers.

5.
Happy Halloween,
Bitch I'm knocking on your door,
Give me some candy.

6.
Make myself ugly,
Girls do not smile anymore,
Looks are everything.

-Later (Me)

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Superman


If there's a Superman,
then he's got no chance;
cause this world
is in love
with Kryptonite.

Shit,
I bought some the other day,
spread it on my burger.
It tasted good,
but I know
that neither Superman,
or these fuckin' nerds
can swallow it.

-BH

Sunday, January 18, 2009

On Being Human.


I've come to the conclusion
that I'm human,
and that's alright.
I drink like a human,
smoke like a human,
maybe that's okay.
I get angry,
feel sad,
too sad sometimes,
but I can live with that.
I fart human farts,
shit human logs,
piss,
and piss off,
just like a homosapien,
and I can deal with it.
I say things I shouldn't say,
think thoughts I shouldn't think...
or maybe I should.
Either way,
It's all good.
I cheat when I play games,
make up tall tales,
lick my lips,
suck in my stomach,
and lose my mind sometimes...
like me,
and I think I'm alright.
And I just spilled beer on myself,
Just like a man,
but being a man
is still something,
I have to cope with.

-BH

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Gets Ugly

Every drop that ran down
was a paintbrush stroke
in red and blue
As they carve their fears upon me
I had asked for death
and there she was
As the earth pulled back it's fingers
as the fire spewed out
my chest and back
Beautiful brush strokes and colors
I'm your canvas now
make me red and black
Just a seconds slip in silence
after that it's all
a morning haze
and I find myself beside me
needing bandages
again.

-BH

Monday, January 12, 2009

Manhattan Project

Old Romans
Big brown Chariots
Gorgeous for the Moonlight
it lights me,
shines down on my eyes
Dead kings dance in back streets
the foul stench burns
feels like I've been crying
Maybe somethings vanished
Who'll dance up there?
We all avoid that square.
This city sleeps
Never did before,
now it never wakes
So let's shake it.
Blind poets free,
should never write of what they see...
Is this why?
Who was the first to tell that lie?
Someone said,
"We are better"
and someone believed.
They all heard
gave themselves names,
grew beards,
and learned bigger words
And then we all died.
Don't feel ashamed,
Manhattan islands all the same.
New Amsterdam,
has gone missing.

-BH

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Love Drunk


Right to my chest,
like moonshine and maple,
or moonlight through maples,
or moons in your eyes.

It blinds me completely,
this thought of you hurting
or simply me feeling,
it's what I despise.

So love is like moonshine,
it burns 'till you feel warm
and then leaves you tipsy
and out of your mind.

But I've found you perfect,
so girl let's get wasted,
I'll drink you completely
and we'll be just fine.

BH

A laundry day 7 am rant.

What time was it when God created life? Hmm. I guess a lot of that depends on what time God goes to bed... Either way, if it was anywhere near the time I got up this morning to do laundry, or the time my dad usually wakes up, then I know why the human race has so many problems. To an insomniac, it seems a waste that the morning should be almost as beautiful as the night. It seems a waste that birds should sing for the rising of the sun and not the great glowing moon. That wolf understands, but these birds got it all wrong. Navigate by stars my airborne sillies, the sun is only one giant bastard of a burning shit. Your path is illuminated by millions of shit lamps at night birdie, that owl understands... At least one bird got it right. Hoo hoo!

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Family Trees and Flowers

The animation is from Disney's "Flowers and Trees" (1932) and the music is "Family Tree" by TV on the Radio. Absolutely gorgeous.



Did ya like it?

Sunday, January 4, 2009

The Visit 1

I'd like to visit them
in Dreams.
Under black thatched roofs
leaking prismatic drops of dew
into their senses.
They'd wait
preoccupied
by some strange play or thing
as I travelled
rolling on the wind
a wisp
something cool and dry.
Be forewarned,
my love for them,
for you...
would extend to the stars
and under the pressure
surrounding this
undoubtedly burst
and sprinkle down this earth
a lovely pearl snow
only to mix with prismatic dew
and ever so gracefully slip through the cracks
of their black thatched roofs
quenching the dust
of your consciousness,
and fertilizing the seeds
in that old attic,
creating a gorgeous
emerald sprout
that will in time
grow into something sturdy.
Something that looks
a lot like
me.

BH