Thursday, August 30, 2007

cheesegasm
"What if i told you I could write you a poem that rhymed, that you take home and read before you went to sleep, and get you all warm and cuddly? Would that be something you might be interested in?"

she makes me want to flex my muscles,
oh, pretending first that i got some.
after learning what it takes to hustle,
to be rich enough to spoil our grandson-
but not to be creepy,
she just make me peepee when I see she,
like the biggie song,
she's head strong,
getting triple word score
even if she spell wrong.
she's fantastic even if i can't see her
like sue storm,
she can make a genius go dumb
and shape shift his true form,
the braggadocio can't even hang an ounce
on her tapestry,
I hope it's me that she'd parlay
all her majesty,
it's sad to see all the words that couldn't fathom,
i write these lines in an effort just to grab them,
she speaks translating the language of the heavens,
my soul's expanding, she's commanding its attention,
in that moment while indulging in her presence,
her essence: it's like feeling world peace for a second.

Ulam cooked @ 4:43 PM

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weird inter-stellar coincidentals
By now, all NBA fan should know that KG was finally let go by the sinking ship called Minnesota and sent to bring a rented Championship to Boston. There, he was going to meet up with Jesus himself: Ray Allen, acquired a few months earlier via trade at the NBA Draft.

The big 3: KG, Ray Allen, and Paul Pierce.

Sometime during the NBA season last year, after the W's - Pacers trade, I revamped the lineups of all the teams in NBA Live 2006. Basically, I made a bunch of super teams... and some super ugly teams and stuck some of my least faves on them:

Dampier and Marbury: Houston (ranked 62)
Kobe: Chicago (ranked 60s)
etc.

The Warriors got a super re-vamp with some of the same players with skills amped up to what they were doing during the year. So we had the regulars:
Biedrins
Harrington
JRich
Ellis
Davis

Bench:
Stephen Jackson
Barnes
Fisher
Cabarkapa

Extras:
Camby
Marvin Williams

Anyway, I also amped up other teams like Toronto. I actually left Phoenix and Dallas relatively untouched. They have players fit for a video game.

Minnesota was another amped up team. I kept KG though. But, as I noticed two days ago when I played with them for the first time since mid-season, I had Paul Pierce AND Ray Allen on the team!

Nothing to write to the Gods (hehe.. BSG.. finally watched "Act of Contrition" last night).. but still.. a funny coincidence.

Badass team, though! BAD ASS! Well.. Iverson was the point guard and Brad Miller was the center. Bench was relatively the same. (RIP Eddie Griffin). FRED HOIBERG: Original Gangster.

Ulam cooked @ 1:04 PM

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Tuesday, August 14, 2007

circa 1999-2000: "same game"
same game.
different name.
yeah i didn't know her well.
hell,
I didn't know her at all.
but i thought she could've been
the answer to the call.
she could have been, i was thinking.
but once again.
she's not.

she kinda brought life
to the words i share,
to the pages I address with care,
with the thoughts I dare to
prepare for the whole
world's consumption.
i thought she understood.
wrong assumption.
hee hee, silly of me,
to put faith in her so quickly.
silly of me, to believe
that she sees me.

undeniably,
she gives off a flow,
so unknown to other past rejections,
that I could dig her
inner minds reflection,
and the thoughts conception
wasn't just one dimensional,
and a woman like that,
is just too indispensable,
but i guess in her eyes,
even though I thought I brought
realize-ation,
sprinkled hyrdation to a wasteland desert
of ignorant minds.
I'm one. I'm kind. I'm not
one of a kind,
but I'm few and far between,
I've seen, and I see,
but silly of me,
to dig you so deeply.

there was this spark
of some aura
that you seemed to receive
by reading the images
I conceived,
and depicted,
with all feelings inflicted,
i couldn't have fallen into someone better
if i had scripted it.
myself, because I was giving,
myself,
and i saw some life i generated
into your own veins.
and that effect,
on another's soul,
is my one true goal,
i want to achieve.
i failed.
i want to achieve,
i was thinking you would sip from my grail,
to inherit my eternity,
but silly of me,
to think you were worthy.

- fed up and lonely. (in that order)

Ulam cooked @ 3:06 PM

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Monday, August 13, 2007

Struggling
I don’t elevate my fist
Or carry a picket sign.
I’ve even lost schemes to my rhymes,
And my feel for the times,
But please don’t regard me
As a fallen member of the people’s army.

When once these words were my weapons
To a world of half-steppin’
I guess it was clear
That it was the revolution
I was reppin’,
With my clenched tongue
The rhytms of rebel music were sung
And speeches of justice
Were the breaths from my lungs,
Where my youth and exuberance
Were met with sub-studious
Knowledge enhancing
Almost abnoxious irreverence,
I stood in the spotlight
As a wannabe world saver,
A more advertised portrayer
Of a rebel change maker.

With age and the world widening
Comes perspective, though introspective
In it’s defining,
The moments refining
Proaction
Instead of reaction.
Solutions become harder to find,
When complexities shine,
and simplicity dies.

Back then, I used to believe
That power was in being a martyr,
Assassinated for building a movement
That left the government wallowing in fear,
To be killed for the rights of the oppressed
Was the way I thought I could help –
But how much good could I do if I was no longer
Here?

But I am here.
Still part of the struggle,
A living member of the people’s army,
Even if you don’t want to recognize me.

Ulam cooked @ 10:50 PM

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where does he go...
Where does he go,
The writer who no longer writes.
When he once was called prolific,
He is now just silenced.
Muted.
Blank. Slated.
Where does he go when writing,
who was his soulmate,
His true love, his mistress, and mistake,
All in one –
is now barely a memory.
Even the slightest scent leaves him
Uninspired.
Where does he go when his sanctuary’s
Been tarnished with neglect,
Disparaged by nonchalance.
When once it was his second nature,
It is now not even his third or fourth
Or infinite.
Only withdrawal and internalized swirling
Of befuddled musings that once graced
Pencil tips, keyboard taps, and
His tongue –
Spoken with no haste except for haste itself,
Like now.
Topical haste was admiral at some point,
But now haste is the motivation for
The unmotivated writer, or thinker, or lover.
He’s lost with a map, a compass, and
The sun rising against a river.
But he still knows nothing of where to go.

Trapped in an open cage.
Trapped in an unlocked room.
Trapped in invisible walls that leave him
Transparently empty.
There is a soul unwilling to grab hold
Of the fleeting passerbyers.
The world is at his doorstep, yet he is unwilling
To proceed.

Where does he go,
When at minimum,
A conversation was worthwhile air:
a talk radio show where he was
the host and the caller.
Now he just listens.
Disconnected from the lines.
The show goes on – from a distance –
Mostly in the background
Of other retired foreplay.

Mindsex was the game of choice,
And it was played well.
Intimations and grand designs
Were the weapons of the banter-filled arenas.
She was the canvas in her strength and nobility.
She wasn’t just a landing pad for artistry,
But she was the foundation
For creation.
There was connection at heart:
It was a two-lane highway
Reaching the one coast: the ear
To the other: the soul.
Somewhere in between,
Aura was metabolized into essence.
So when silence was cherished,
Substance faded.
And the body was left wavering.
Floating aimlessly while anchored
By mono tones.
Lost.
In space.
Wide. Open. Space.
Constricted in feelings of
Lost
Worth.
He thought his words no longer mattered
So he no longer shared them.
Where does he go
When he chooses to be
Not found.

Ulam cooked @ 4:20 PM

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Sunday, August 12, 2007

Softball Weekend
I have a slightly bruised left knee. I also think I may have pulled a groin muscle (I'm hoping it was more of a cramp)... (but I think it's a pull.) I also was the last out.. the rally killer in our last game of the weekend... the CHAMPIONSHIP GAME!

A few weeks ago, two of my coworkers who are contracted with our agency but are housed at county asked me if I was interested in playing a weekend softball tournament. This tournament, as I found out yesterday, has been going on for 25 years. It's a (san mateo) county thing, but a certain percentage of guests are allowed to partake. Anyway, various county departments make up teams. We were in the rec league - the less competitive league.

I was playing with a bunch of social workers.. or people who work directly with social workers.. so I guess I was on the right team.

Now, as I mentioned initially, there were some downers for the weekend including not winning the Championship. Well, actually, the only real downer is my possible groin pull. The rest - all part of the game, and it was a whole lot of fun. I only knew two people on the team. Some of the others I met once at a practice. So basically, I was the outsider. I didn't really know what to expect. Since I do have game experience with the Barrelfolks, I thought I wouldn't completely be disserving the team. There were actually a few people who play in other leagues. We also had our share of players who don't have much experience. But, somehow, we made it to the Championship game.

I think there were 7 or 8 teams in our league. One team was 4-1. Another may have been 1-4. I think the rest were 3-2. We got the nod because our run differential was best.. by 1 run! We didn't score the most points, but our defense was pretty solid. We had our share of inexperienced players, but they all did well. We always had 3 solid outfielders.. most often had 4 solid infielders. A great surprise was that I was one of those solid 4.

It's been a long, LONG time when I've felt like I a very important asset to a softball team. For the most part, I'm a throw in on the Barrelmen. It's the elephant in the room, that's making an imprint in the stat sheets: I'm the least important person on the team - in terms of productivity. I play catcher - and even though I have fun with it and have internalized it - but the reality is that catcher is the "throwaway" position in our league. The immobile or weak or whatever players are housed at catcher. That's me.

But not this time.. at least, not for this weekend. Admittedly, the level of play wasn't as strong.. the gameplay wasn't as fast.. some bullets were singlewall bullets versus doublewalls, but nonetheless, I was needed on the field and I performed. I played shortstop because 2B was usually played by on of the females. I didn't really have any misplays - I threw some balls away at first but they were only on bang-bang plays that would've probably resulted in a call safe anyway. I fielded liners and loops over the 3B head towards the line. I gobbled up most grounders. I had range. I backed people up. I completed an unassisted double play. Started conventional double plays (6-4-3s). I had a bullet liner up the middle that I jumped up and snagged out of the air to some "ooh"s. There were other plays.. that if I had more reps at ss.. that I feel I could've completed with dives. I was a legitimate part of the team, and I'm taking this time to feel free to relish in it.

I didn't hit particularly well. I tried and was relatively successful getting it to right center - but many times I hit it directly to someone. I was all ready to bring home some people on my last at bat, but it didn't happen. Oh well. We fought back, by the way. We were up against a team that was knocking it around over fences.. over our outfielders playing way, WAAAY deep. We were down 13-4 in the top of the last inning. We lost 13-11. Not bad for a ragtag team.

Some other highlights included cheering on another team who we beat but needed to win so that we had a CHANCE to get into the championship game. The other team they were playing.. we lost to in a very dissapointing, disheartening, and irritating way. We were up 4-1 and lost 5-4 in the bottom of the last inning. Ouch. But that's not why we were cheering them on. That other team was 3-1. We needed them to lose so we could get the run differential tiebreaker in play. The team we were cheering on.. that was wearing Khaki shirts (we were the green team) was down early. It didn't look good. But, in the last inning, they had their chance on the top of the ninth to come back. They were down maybe 5-7 runs. They scored 16. They ended being up 23-12 or something like that. But, before then, we were yelling out the "We Believe" just like the W's run. We heard one of their team players call their shirts: "latte". So we ended up starting a chant: "Let's Go Latte". Yes, my A's roots came out. That was a funny situation. Most of them stayed to watch our championship game. Interesting.. they allowed the other team to score 4 in the bottom of the inning and that was enough for us to get that +1 run edge on them. We almost cheered our way out of the championship. Ironic. Almost.

Another highlight was my weekend crush on one of the other players on another team. I asked Tim and Amanda if they were "ethically opposed to giving me" the inside scoops on some of the girls we played against - I mean, if it came up. So I asked him earlier today. Anyway, after he gave me some 411, I was driving home and I realized I may actually KNOW who that girl was in a weird, small world type of way. On my orientation day for grad school, I was waiting outside when this really super.. uh.. HOT.. 2nd year was calling my name as I was reading a flyer on one of the adjacent doors. It was during lunch. "John?" I turned around and a.. uh.. HOT.. girl was smiling at me and asked, "Are you John ____?" Yes. "Did you got to UC Davis?" Yes. And then she went on about how she recognized my name and I just said I really didn't remember her at all. We were apparantly in sociology classes together. unfortunately, I wasn't in class much. I really didn't recognize her. She was hot. I think I would've. Anyway.. I wonder if it's the same person. She did seem familiar when I first noticed her yesterday morning. Anyway, it seems like it would be a bad deal trying to meet her, but it was fun pretending to play for someone in the audience during that last game.

That last game, by the way, was so hot. We were playing on a field turf field so it was all rubberized. It was also the 6th game in two days, I didn't drink much water, I had coffee and dairy at lunch, and I had a beer while cheering on the other team. I think I may have not approached some bloopers the same way as I would've earlier in the game. I want to think that they were hit with more zip so they would've been moot efforts anyway. Not sure. I was tired though. Softball can get you no exercise if you don't do much. It can also work your ass out if you're playing a prime position (in terms of fielding opportunities) and are doing as much as you can to help on every play like backing up, being the cut off man, or chasing down pop outs wherever. I had my opportunity and I'm glad I was able to take advantage of it.. even if it only comes once every few years.

Good weekend. I really like playing softball - especially when I have a chance to really play.

Ulam cooked @ 9:26 PM

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