my name is luka

i live on the second floor

just don't ask me - what it was
just don't ask me - how i am 

yes, we are exposed to twists and turns
tips and tricks

i am fascinated by this one 

only because i see it everywhere

surfacing on the physical plane
wishful sexual dysfunction

this is the guy from montreal - far left
who recently cut his lover 
up into pieces
and mailed his body parts - express post

i have a theory
 

 

every once in a while

the shadow wants to expose himself

only - because she ever so desperately needs to be seen
this is a stretch - BUT - going there

tornado torpedo - typhoon tsunami
pass the popcorn
and settle back

ok, i'm no rap-star
but perhaps this fumbling prose is a start

it's all in the news - it's headline horror
a chance to be real - out there

maybe it's because i'm crazy

i try not to act too proud

 

 

luka rocco magnotta

they only hit until you cry

after that - you don't ask why

you just don't argue - anymore 

i'm the tormented trickster - my eye on the throne

the displaced lover - throw me a bone

the morose magician - i'll make you see

my twisted sister - on a mission of mercy

playing out my game of russian roulette - in style

using all my available resources for a while
seamless state of the art technology
download me in HD - while i'm still free

having everything and yet tossing it all into the sea
because - i can - no choice now - you have to look - at me

right here - today

my show - done my way 
 

because fundamentally - it doesn't matter

mother fucker - father sucker
i am hearing - too much chatter

and so dear friends and faithful readers

welcome back to yet another erase and rewind

a dance in dementia - a trip down another musty corridor 
(ah so i how miss - the twilight zone)

my name is luka

it's an invented name, but it's what i go by - now

many interpretations - mixed yet always curious

the result in lubricated rotation - carefully cooked - changing
depending on where my moon-mood is - and who i'm with
to some ... i'm gay and to others
ac/dc - what difference does it make
when you're evenly baked

ok, i'm a boy, who is a girl sometimes - flawless form

questionable karma in a perfect storm

am i a boy?  or am i a girl??  perhaps, you will never know

it doesn't matter - just going to make it so

it's a claim to fame
just needing 15 minutes
to launch my name

ok, maybe you still don't get it

i'm red hot

 i am larger than life

i am aphrodite and i am devout

hero and heroine

soon, you'll find out

i'll be whomever you want me to be - make me soft

take me and make me

because i am the one - who gets off

oh yeah
 

i kill things 

animals and people

 give me a cam

just don't ask me - how i am

i am part of something bigger and better

than YOU will ever be

because i am omnipotence personified

click and claim me

i want you to fuck me
before i kill you

my world is a non-linear extraction

in post-nuclear posturing

radiation sperm illumination - powder blue hue

only i am me - and you 

are just you

who is this piece of shit
chinese - extermination eclipsing ecstasy

i'll cut you and paste you, wherever i please

because i have you - on your knees

i can spew your body parts wherever i choose

cause in the end, i win and you lose
it's just assumed

that it's important news
stay tuned

my name is luka

 

i live on the second floor

i live upstairs from you

yes i think you've seen me before

if you hear something late at night

some kind of trouble, some kind of fight

just don't ask me - what it was
just don't ask me - how i am 


(older posts - lower right)

blood of eden

they don't take credit … only gold

i'm not sure i get it yet
working on it

this connection we're supposed to have
with the opposite sex
tis maybe why i'm 56 and single

 

girlfriends yes earlier on
 then married, divorced - drifting i guess
i'm still trying to figure it out

maybe i'm bi-polar

i think, i messed up there somewhere
a momentary lapse of reason
lingering into the middle ages

protecting myself
that useless extended warranty i paid extra for
man overboard

the line growing tight - the premature struggle, then the release
shit - you had it on - hooked - feeling the loss - what happened
distracted for a second - you snooze, you lose
idiot

my grip is surely slipping - i think i've lost my hold

and so my friends

welcome back - it's another quest
for clarification

i find it helps - to just put it out there

b l o o d   o f   e d e n

it's a song i remember
one summer - years ago
made sense in the moment
ringing true

i was distracted - yet curious
the barrage of deceptions

adam and eve and the subsequent fairy tales
 in familiar folklore - the little mermaid
penthouse and playboy
victorias secret

the books, magazines, catalogues, movies and the TV shows
we watched growing up - jaws dropped and wide eyed
in black and white - later in technicolour

how it was supposed to be - all wrong
an earnest attempt at normality
submersed in conclusion

coming out later in real life, in a requiem
last call - maybe later
stumbling into slumber - the recurring images
under closed eyelids - rapid eye movement
sparkling lights
shaking - slow motion


is that a dagger or a crucifix i see
you hold so tightly in your hand
and all the while the distance grows between you and me
i do not understand 
 

i rarely see it work right - relationships
even those still together after years - decades
water under the bridge
cracked yet still standing - celebrated

in this golden anniversary - marking the induction
dads jokes and moms gravy

grace

ah, the institution of matrimony
family

in the gestures of good will
hanging on for dear life
in co-dependence, false security and creature comfort

and yet - maybe ... just maybe, in genuine appreciation
of our cozy counterpart

real love exists - in virtuous unconditional surrender
the purge of narcissism - and the embrace of humility
in remembrance of our mortality
wishing wisdom

timeless
kiss


at my request, you take me in
in that tenderness, i am floating away
no certainty, nothing to rely on
holding still for a moment
what a moment this is
oh for a moment of forgetting 
a moment of bliss

one learns new lessons
inside and outside of the box
no judgements

floating

in quiet reflection - looking out on our setting sun
the early stars in the approaching nightsky
the sparkling lights again - drifting

we are essentially alone - either way
holding - still

regret ... still

there's nothing worse
than missing the boat

i caught sight of my reflection

i caught it in the window

i saw the darkness in my heart

i saw the signs of my undoing

they had been there from the start

and the darkness still has work to do

the knotted chord's untying

they're heated and they're holy

oh they're sitting there on high

so secure
with everything they're buying

b l o o d   o f   e d e n

muZIK for the apocalypSE

and a hymn for the human spirit

hello friends and faithful readers of my blog, welcome back to my perfect storm - (play the clip/track below).  this is a departure from the distractions and the little annoyances we live with every day and a look back into that place we rarely go to anymore because as it seems, there's no time to.  as always,  i'd like to remain optimistic and yet proceeding with caution. survival happens one step at a time.  bad decisions haunt us.  it is in the choices we make that we all too often lose perspective on what's going on around us.  the regrets and the regression. the greed and the remorse.  the cycle of narcissism and that all too familiar aloneness.  we forget ...

it is in the reckless abandonment of our fragile human nature, the politics and the carelessness - the lies and the blame, do we relapse into default;  and yet there must always be a time of joyous reflection - recalling all the wonderful memories that we carry with us every day in this moment that we're alive. the family snapshots, the smiles ... the re-incarnations of times past  - the good and the bad - and a new appreciation of what we have here right now - to the art that inspires us and helps us to remember and embraces consciousness. and so yes - in my humble attempt to be relevant ... so ah ... tis is my muZE - my ...

muZIK for the apocalypSE

 

fade to black -

for those of us who are racing though life, there is always a need to stop EVERYTHING and think about all this on a whole different level. through the images of despair, destruction and doubt that we carry with us if we don't succeed, past the obstacles and chaos, the torture and the torment ... there is light and redemption - and in the end, there is nothing.  

we all fade to black.  so what does the end of life look like to you?  is it sitting on a bench by a placid lake and peering out into a hollow horizon that looks like the apocalypse, trapped behind the borderlines of your own making?  ... or is it about celebrating what you came to know and love?   it's all comes down to this final moment - the choices we make.  forevermore.  that next person you meet for the first time tomorrow ... is this an opportunity to embrace change - to create magic?   or is it just another feeble attempt to delay the inevitable -  because we're just too different - rising to the occasion appears to be in short supply any more.  that "higher power" that everyone talks about?  it's just a myth anyway.  

it's sad ... just too easy to turn away and procrastinate.  back into a peaceful slumber - lost in the cracks again.

.

just a blip -

and so dear readers - the next time you hold back from telling someone close to you, that you love them - because the timing is wrong or you think it's not appropriate?  in the fear that you might show your real hand of cards which is a trick, or that they may just call your "bluff" - retreat - into the warm comfort of false security - into the facade.   just please - think about this ... you may not get the chance again - life is short and there's no time.   we are just a blip on the radar screen - a moment - an all too brief split second, that comes and goes in a flash of light and then slips back into the darkness - and in there somewhere - there's some really special music playing.

it's all in forgiveness and appreciation of all that is in life's remarkable gift.  in grace and in danger we breathe ... it's all over soon - brace yourself.  this is a crazy ride.  dance, love and live!

thank you for reading -

.

.

.

.

(bump up the clip below to 720p - lower wheel 
and turn up the volume / sound)

.

..

b  o  r  d  e  r  l  i  n  e  s

"our bodies shiver but we cannot touch

i never thought i'd need ... you

so much" 

 

composed, produced and performed by jim lamarche in 1986 at spiral studio 

58 phoebe street, toronto on a fostex A8 analog recorder.

fretless bass by dave smith - alto sax by john panchyshyn

(c) 1987 - temple music, toronto

photographs by jim lamarche - paintings by zdzislaw beksinski

email:  jimlamarche@sympatico.ca.

Surrender - Sweet Salvation

 "Do not lay a hand on the boy," he said. "Do not do anything to him. Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son."  Genesis 22:12

Ah sunday - it's my favourite day.  a day of rest?  (sounds good to me).

the word "re-alignment" comes to mind.  i connect with my daughter Jade in her on-going transformation, into a new world that is filled with hope and love.   we have lunch and talk - a healing time.  She's 25.

today, we went to church (not something i've done since i was a kid), with her mom (my ex) and Jades cousin Byron who invited us.  Saint James Cathedral downtown Toronto (King and Jarvis - ok just a coincidence).   "ok - let's go to church".  no crowds, very simple.  it was wonderful and beautiful, in a broken weather forecast that shed a dry warm late summer ambiance, just at the right times.  there came that approaching appreciation settling in by late morning - breath-taking music from a historic church pipe-organ, inspiring words, respectful reflection/resolution with a choir of angels singing in praise of redemption. 


church felt really good.

   

 
we live in a tangled weave - filled with apocalyptic imagery and we are persistently bombarded with bad news - every day - we feed in the shadows.

the hurricanes, the earthquakes and the tsunamis - the nuclear melt-downs - watcher of the skies - the anticipation ... waiting.


"there - up there - can you see it"?  impending doom.  "that jet - flying into that building - see it?" on this 10th anniversary of 9/11 ... ah that gentle reminder of what happens to those who don't follow the rules.  the punishment.  the verdict is IN.  "your honour - we the court, find the defendant - guilty".   just who's rules should we be following again?  i need a reminder refreshment - this is confusing.  the word hypocrisy comes up over and over again.  who do we believe?  i don't trust you anymore.

. 

and so ... welcome back my friends,  to my new muZE - thoughts in the fragmentations in every day consciousness creating chaos, and a short essay on the virtues of patience, self-discipline and deliverance.  In my ongoing struggle to find peace in this world as a maturing male human … in my growing realization that it's all in understanding the importance of … coming to terms with …

Surrender - Sweet Salvation
(a shift in contemporary spirituality)

we learn to defend ourselves at an early age.  like i put out in my last blog, we men inherit our fathers karma and we proudly carry the torch - in uncertainty - in duty to the cause.  we fight for what's right! - even if it's a lie, then we protect our inheritance in a shield of armour - unconscious, even from the ones we love - from the tragedies and injustices of this world - turned inward - mistrust.   shame and blame are instilled in us as children (especially us boys), trying to figure out what's wrong and learning to navigate - ongoing, relentless tiring torture - that fear of failure - trying to find our place in this maze of on-going confusion.   we develop "weapons of mass destruction", early on - out of necessity,  first, in our "terrible two's"  - our first outburst of rebellion.   just to get through the torment of school a few short years later - teen rebellion, shrouded in dark music and reclusive repugnance.  we construct our battle plan, just to get through another day, then later evolving into a tenuous occupation that is fused with strife and despair, late student loan payments and plunging markets - rising costs and divorce statistics.  


sometimes we are forced, to make some difficult decisions.  choices we don't want to make.

 

  


hidden agendas


in dealing with the stress of life, sometimes we create hidden agendas - meticulously documented in medical volumes, holy bibles and in science fiction novels (are we vampires or werewolves)?  - whatever - and yet what does it matter?   our refuge - a place to get away from it all (our secret place), and all propped up with justification mechanisms, deceptive diagnoses - in carnal constructs and doped out denial.  ok, sometimes healthy … usually not.   there are no road maps into maintaining a sane balance sheet - that ultimate plan on differentiating our profits from our losses - where to constructively place our bet in this game of russian roulette.  what works verses what doesn't remains elusive.  in the torrential introspection that exists in the masculine massacre, particularly in our interaction with our feminine counterparts on this physical plane - we men (for the most part) remain lost - and yet we must remain - in total control.
   


welcome to the lie

ok guys, it's not something you down-load off the internet, nor is it an "app" you can get for your iPhone or google the answer to.   real redemption requires real work - and embraces surrender - only the right kind of surrender (and not just acting it out).  it means getting down and dirty and showing people your shit, in a supportive environment that is open to the idea of that.  i myself have become a good preacher and diligent observer, but a hack practitioner in this regard and, i'm in good company - here at Saint James Cathedral - that "saintly" salutation - feels GREAT!  beautiful bells ringing from the tower and a new calling ... 


church was nice but a somewhat deceptive theatre play - the communion is in sterile cleansing - largely based on the "assumption" that you are a "sinner" and that the participant in observation needs to confess - ok, a righteous presumption and very well positioned - all cloaked in "state of the art" diaper technology and in pristine institutional grandeur.   no dirt here.  beautiful music - but no "shit".  


constructed spiritualism ensconced in a ritualized religious practicum - i like it, (and it's easy on the eyes and ears)!

i saw some things today, going for lunch later - with Jade, Jody and Byron - sitting on rain soaked patio seats and consuming our rewarding organic burgers and hot-dogs after the service.  yuM (mystery meat - ok - "organic" mystery meat - no pseudo-religious cross-referenced innuendos intended). 

later, i went to an AA meeting (Alcoholics Anonymous) down on Bloor and Spadina with Jody and Jade, and watched a different kind of service unfold.  in a hot, badly ventilated room - in yet another church in downtown Toronto but in a worn adjacent hall lit by florescent lighting and hard fold up chairs, bad free coffee and bland packaged cookies - the late summer week-end drawing a different crowd - worshiping the same god, only differently.  ok, this is clearly lacking in style girls and boys.   My daughters boy friend was receiving his one year medallion.  a time to celebrate.  


people got up and addressed their unsettled congregation, practicing their new faith, in vulnerability and in total fear - everything is shaking like an earthquake that could topple everything around us any second, in that familiar sweat that drips out of every pore - the familiar discomfort - in the smell of the fermented toxins - years in the making.  the tears of joy and a reminder of our fragility - surrendering yet again - in a humble gesture - to find peace.

unlike the impeccably choreographed religious service in an impenetrable protective structure earlier that day,  AA openly and humbly acknowledged god's presence (our higher power), without the guilt and without the pretense - inviting participants who wish to change, in support and yet without attachment, without the pomp and the promise - without the insulation.  rising to the occasion - is in short supply.  no judgement - in a new sanctuary.  spirituality and religion are two completely different things and god is real. 

 
inside the mine fields and behind the barbed wire fences, piled up so that they are no longer climbable - there remains that friendly signal - returning again and again - always there and open to us - should we be willing to accept the challenge - a totally new one.  real redemption?  it's all in surrender.


letting our "guard" down to let some real light in and showing the world who we really are - and yet - finding the courage to stand up for ourselves in a din of the repressive noise pollution?   caring for others … takes practice and requires help and spiritual guidance.  i'm working on it.  i believe in a higher power and i believe in god. 

no school-book (or bible) can ultimately teach you what to do or where to go.


faith is multi-dimensional and is contagious - and it doesn't need to be a "religious experience" but maybe ... just maybe appropriate nonetheless.

thank you for reading …

bump this up to 720p (lower right) and turn it up.

.

Accountability - in an age of false reasoning

Accountability

- the state of being accountable, liable, or answerable.

"I'm the commander ... see, I don't need to explain ... 

I do not need to explain why I say things  ...

that's the best part about being president." 

(as quoted in Bob Woodward's Bush at War)

the new testamant

it's a simple concept really - when you're accountable, you are being true to your given nature.  you are, in essence "honoring" your desire to "rise to the occasion" and to take a stand for what you truly believe in.  a rare opportunity - it's a testiment of our foreboding commitment to our higher power and into an elevated awareness and a challenge to those we care for - to do the same.  it's all in the ritual - written in stone ... biblical.

to love and obey - ok work with me here. "to cherish and serve",  what?  i don't think so.   "till death do us part??"  i didn't agree to that!  ...  "our father who art in heaven"???  ah ok - maybe.

ok WAIT a minute!!  this is getting complicated!

back it up -

welcome to my rant in the rubble - and a few thoughts on the truths and lies, that teeters on that fine line that separates them - an easy essay in masculine dysfunction which explores the bi-polar shadows of the modern male psyche - all in this brief instalment i call ...

Accountability - in an age of false reasoning

 

all too often, it's all too easy to slip into the lie - yes brother, you know what i'm about to put out here.  "gimme a high five!  toss me another beer".  lies are convenient, quick and brings about immediate results - RELIEF!   life is difficult.  lies often get us to where we want to go quicker and with a lot less hassle - to circumvent the shit that get's in the way.  rules?  fuck the rules.  rules were meant to be broken.  rules of engagement? - bullshit!  i make my OWN rules!  yeah that's right. i'm not the problem - YOU are the problem.

ah - that was easy - too easy

  

tips and tricks

we men learn to hide and lie at an early age - tips and tricks - from our forefathers.  it's all in the timing - exit stage right (when no one is looking).  "shit -  incoming pressure - launch default - code sequence - alpha charlie one - ABORT -  get me out of here"!   ah daddy - you were THE master manipulator of deception and delusion, an elusive slippery eel - squishy and transparent - an aging ally in denial and i loved you.  most importantly, you sir ... were an excellent educator who taught me well.  i'm ready for my next lesson.  where are you?

this is a common theme.  it touches most men deeply, though most would prefer not to think about it.  that fear, shame and blame all so meticulously incubated, in the juggled dark cracks of our empty underworld - in the slivers of distant recollections and entrenched in our institutions.  you see - our fathers actually believed their lies and created their own religion, and continued the experiment - blessing their willing innocent disciples to seed, where we fertilize and familiarize.  it's working.  it's DONE!  it's crazy thinking back on my childhood.  where's dad?  


gone

even when he was around he was still gone.  no love - no care.  scared away.  the burning question is ... why?
 

contagion

my dad actually BELIEVED that it was totally ok to be unaccountable to anyone but himself - and even that was sketchy - kind of pathetic actually, but it's all he knew - i mean that's what he picked up as a kid himself from the men around him at the time - "it's a cruel world son".  what are you talking about?  the contagion seamlessly passed from generation to generation.  storm on the horizon.   why does everything have to suck?

i could never see it coming - until it was too late.  it was in all those simple sermons, lectures  - drenched in the patriotic prose, the presumptuous posterings and in the reluctant rhetoric ... here it comes again - and again ...

"good guys?  finish LAST"!  he would often say to me as a kid myself.  "get used to it - get with the program" - baby branded - and so ... in a single thrust of unconscious narcissistic masturbation, my dad succeeded in alienating everyone around him - his friends and relatives, employers, wife and family / his sons - from ever wanting anything to do with him and died alone.  but alas - the perfect victim in a perfect crime - the liar - the thief - the displaced shadow magician and the tormented martyr.   the self inflicted "torture" ... the measures and the counter measures -  all justified in an empty thread of addicted avoidance - taught to him ever so eloquently and with immaculate precision - by his father ... handed down by his father before him - and so on.  strategic - clockwork.

genetically pioneered insanity

and in the ongoing chaos that we call home ...

i often think of what it would have been like - to have had a father who actually cared about himself.  what that would have brought about.  the benevolent, intuitive guidance, idealized on TV and in movies - carefully woven in reflective self-discipline and determination - that passion / desire, to "get it right".  to raise the stakes in integrity and deliverance.
 

in the lies, the deception and yes ... destruction, you would think that one might learn what the difference is between resistance and resolve.  i think it's a no-brainer but my demons remain - in a dark thunderstorm surrounding my cerebral hemorrhage, the moment comes and goes.

- Default

failure to act; inaction or neglect, ie. They lost their best chance - to make a real difference - by sheer default.
 

  

maybe later

.

we either get it or we don't ... i still don't get it
and most men around me who "think" they get it - don't
ultimately, it's in the clues and sign-posts we encounter along the way 
left in our legacy - for now ...


we still have a choice to make in this moment - to live or to die

decided

it's all in the choices.  i choose to live

dedicated to Glen James - G.J. (Jim) LaMarche
(centre)

 

email:  jimlamarche@sympatico.ca


these clips below are natural extensions on the theme ...
this blog was inspired by my childhood experiences and by the book  -
"prisons we choose to live inside" by doris lessing.