Author: 17numa

Sigh…September Fading…Soldier Onward

~ 17numa ~ Leave a comment
Alkaline
is the primal
state of nature
I violently crave
so as to
flush away the fire
and rid
of acid
whilst finding
balance
in healing Tao
 
Cascading water
just don’t quite
cut it
I need the chalice
in full
and flooding
upon my
head
helping to find
balance
in exotic
Tao
 
Bathe
in the cresting
wave
of the final
high
 
The tide
of Tao
will bury you
the same as
it birthed you
without
the batting
of an eye
 
so we might as well
rise
and fly
upon
wings of rhyme
unto
the sky
 
Recording of “Sigh” via SoundCloud
September Recap:
 
I’ve had my foot hammered down on the gas pedal this month, and the path I’m traveling along continues to provide the raw sense of excitement that I crave with a passionate fervor. The days keep flying by it seems, and that’s cool because the ultimate goal remains the same no matter what type of rhythms time and space happen to conjure up for me to dance along with.
 
I’d like to say a huge thank you to the editors of these 38 venues for accepting and/or publishing my work this past month:
 
Unbroken Journal; Your One Phone Call; Dead Snakes; Aberration Labyrinth; Poetry Life & Times; Contemporary Poets; Exercise Bowler; WritingRaw; Synesthesia Literary Journal; Literary Yard; Dissident Voice; The Poet Community; VerseWrights; Visual Verse; Saudade Magazine; Section 8 Magazine; Leaves of Ink; Viral Cat; Whispers; Zaira Journal; experiential-experimental-literature; The Song is…; Extreme Writing Community; Midnight Lane Boutique; Sleeve Lit Mag; Indian Periodical; Halcyon Magazine; Tuck Magazine; Of/with: journal of immanent renditions; Nothing. No One. Nowhere.; The Piker Press; Belle Reve Literary Journal; The Fat Damsel; Futures Trading; Asian Signature; Poetic Diversity; Words Surfacing; and Verse-Virtual.
 
Also, a big thank you to Sarah Frances Moran and Alexzan Burton at Yellow Chair Review for the interview they did with me a few weeks ago. Not only was it an honor, but it was also a whole lot of fun. I have a great deal of respect for what Sarah has done with YCR so far, and I will continue to look forward to seeing what she puts out in the months ahead. In fact, the new horror themed issue was just released today, so I’m looking forward to checking it out.
 
Yellow Chair Review Horror Issue
Interview with Yellow Chair Review
 
Thank you, as well, to Cliff Brooks of The Southern Collective Experience for bringing me on board with his family/community recently. There are a whole host of writers associated with the SCE whose work I admire. I recently got to meet a few of the members at a reading this past weekend which was nice. It was the first time I’ve had a microphone in front of me in around four years. I have what might be called an addictive personality, so ever since I got to spout off at the mouth all I can think of is: Yes, I remember how this whole reading out loud thing works…more please…thank you…just put it right here in this open vein…ok, cool, let’s rock…
 
I was also honored to have received my first Best of the Net nomination this month from A.J. Huffman at Kind of A Hurricane Press for my piece “Poetic Points” which appeared earlier in the year at The Mind[less] Muse.
 
I’ve been working a lot at my site 17Numa this month, building up the new Blogs Page with a list of links dedicated to the personal sites of other contemporary writers and artists. I was heavy into it for the first few weeks of September, but some other projects have pulled me away of late. I definitely plan on diving back in and fleshing out the list in the months ahead because there are still plenty of people that inspire me regularly that I’d be stoked to have represented on the page. Please feel free to contact me if you have a website, blog, or archive that you’d like linked there. I’d be more than happy to get you added on.
 
Alright, October has now crept its way into existence…bring it on, baby…full steam ahead…like I say so often, the work has only just begun…
 
Selah,
Scott Thomas Outlar

A Dampening Fog

~ 17numa ~ 2 Comments
Moonshine paradise
ineffable essence
 
Tired clichés
gagged with a spoon
 
Smelted silver
Rusted lust
 
Wheat gut
rot hole
 
Purge the parasite
Release the Beast
 
that it may roam
and rain hell
from here ‘till Sunday
Rain for days fell upon the land…and it was good, for the people were wont with a thirst that needed quenching. Squelched. Satiated. Sanctioned from the high sky. Drip drop down to the seeds. Start to sprout. Towering ivory beanstalks stretching across the void of chaos. Cruising on the waves of ebb and flow.
 
Thank you to Sand Pilarski of The Piker Press for publishing “Campaign of Confusion” earlier this week. The poem originally appeared a few months back at Dissident Voice.
 
Thank you also to Michael Organ of Tuck Magazine for publishing “One Way Path” several days ago. It’s an honor to appear again at this poetry page which has been consistently posting strong material seemingly day after day for several weeks now. Apparently a weather vein was struck, and so it has been a nightly stop for me of late to check in on what’s new at Tuck.
 
People sometimes say to write what you know…which I understand to a certain degree…but that technique has a tendency of boring me to tears…I need to seek what I do not already know…to grow…to collapse rhymes unto entropy…only to resurrect the theory on the third day just for fun…on a flimsy solstice whim…on a pulsar beam laser sharp bull’s-eye…on a shattered prism hologram broadcast channel…it simply is what it is…I can only be what I am –
 
There is always just enough beauty
to keep the scales tipped
51-49
in favor of salvation
 
Selah,
Scott Thomas Outlar
 
P.S.
If you’d like to connect, you can find me on Facebook and Twitter. Thanks for visiting 17Numa.

Anarchic Breakfast

~ 17numa ~ 4 Comments
Handle life
in the same way
with which you would
a delicate egg.
 
Hold it with care;
but know, also,
that there is a time
to cook
fat omelettes.
A blood red lunar eclipse. A supermoon, they said. But it’s been all hazy gray skies ‘round these parts the past few days. That’s cool, too. I still feel the glow. I feel it all. We all do. We are living in a swamp of energy. Bathing in the totality of everything. I use oatmeal soup, scrapping my skin smooth and clean. But my soul is pure. I just let it rise.
 
A truth beyond the pale. Love within reflects outward. Chocolate waves of intoxication. Sugar high junkie chasing caffeine comfort in the midnight hour. No alcohol in over four months…not in the mood for that type of fermented frenzy in my thoughts at this point…so I enter the lab and cook up a different type of chemical cocktail to chase. What to feed the veins? What to pump with the pistons of my heart? Just words. Just art.
 
There have been times in my life when
it was play, play, play
 
There have been times in my life when
it was work, work, work
 
My end game now is to reach the perfect point
when work and play become one and the same
 
I’m closing in on it quickly. Because the grind is getting fun. It’s about time to dance and sing.
 
Selah,
Scott Thomas Outlar
 
P.S.
If you’d like to connect, please feel free to hit me up on Facebook and Twitter.

Pony Up

~ 17numa ~ Leave a comment
everything happens with a reason
and for a reason
 
the truth is a black canvass
swallowing every word
 
we all share the same fate:
The Great Entropic Void
 
the truth comes in waves of plasma fever
sugar sweat junkie at the core of every cell
 
it’s a hard sale to pitch
when the keys are already broken
and no one has
a cent to spare
I wrote “Pony Up” a short while ago in the Midnight hour as the Autumn chill rolled through and the rain poured down heavy from the black apocalyptic sky; and if that’s not an exciting enough story, well, I also recorded a reading of the piece on SoundCloud, which I’ll link below. So, you know, a little bit for everyone. There’s certainly enough to go around. Spread it all out. Smear it on the canvass. Bleed it on the page. Suck it dry. Leave the withered veins collapsed and atrophied. No hope. No salvation. No second chances. Just ancient regrets and ugly remorse scattershot across the dark divide. Pull the curtains down and hide. The horsemen of death shall soon arrive. With hooves of cancer, with eyes of stone. With trampled daydreams and shattered thrones. Watch the halo fall. Witness the season shift. Cracked and crumbling into the wretched abyss. Engulfed by a tired chasm. Swallowed into the vacuum of entropy. Comes the silence. Comes the long dark goodnight. Turn the lights out. Time for an eternal dirt nap.
 
Where the hell does that type of foul gibberish erupt from? That’s the million dollar question. It’s just sort of always there on the periphery of my consciousness, and so I can pretty much dive into such warped vibrations of madness at any given moment. I’ve been staying up until sunrise the past few mornings, and then eventually falling asleep only to hop back out of bed again a few hours later. Perhaps a bit of weariness in the neuron receptors is the cause of such tortured thoughts this afternoon. But, alas, the more likely culprit is probably just my own twisted amusement. The brass tacks of the matter boils down to this: I dig the art of waxing chaotic. I like to spin tales of decadence and degradation. I like to whisper little toxic plumes of pollution into the hazy geo engineered sky. I enjoy dancing around on aluminum particulates while cancer rates skyrocket. I just lust for those rare moments when I get to spit mercury vaccine hallucinations down the throat of autistic reality incorporated 101.
 
Actually, I don’t really enjoy such things at all. But I sure as hell feel it’s necessary to point out that there are some really mean and nasty fuckers in control of the institutions of this world. So it might be a smart idea to explain some of the plans they have set in motion, with the ultimate agenda behind such a course of action being to possibly bring about an abrupt halt to said plans before then being able to begin rolling them back. Of course, that would mean people actually shaking loose from the trance of their television sets and waking up from their comas, so who knows if such a plan actually has any hope of success.
 
I’ve been focused with a laser sharp intensity of precision on the art of poetry for the past year…but perhaps I’m beginning to feel a bit of that political angst bubble up as it rises from the lower regions of my fiery bowels. A hint of corrosive acid that needs to be vomited forth upon a sleeping populace of doomed cowards. Sweet Jesus, I’m going to cut myself off right here because in this state of foggy headedness there’s just no telling what I might say next. So y’all come back now, ya hear? Because once I start down this road, there is surely more dirt and gravel that’ll get kicked up real soon…
 
Any who, here’s that link I promised to the recording of “Pony Up.”
 
Here, also, are the links to the published poems I’ve had come out the past week:
 
One Way Path – Tuck Magazine
Kaleidoscopic Wonderland – Halcyon Magazine
Silver Waves in the Night – Dead Snakes
Be Still, My Exploding Heart – Dead Snakes
Facts of the Matter – Dissident Voice
A Shift, A Sneeze, A Spin Around the Cycle – Indian Periodical
Rest Easy – Sleeve Lit Mag
Sharp Note – Midnight Lane Boutique
Point of No Return – Midnight Lane Boutique
Lockstep Thunder – Midnight Lane Boutique
 
If you’d like to get in touch, please contact me on Facebook and Twitter. I’m always down to connect with new people.
 
Selah,
Scott Thomas Outlar

Shooting It Straight

~ 17numa ~ 2 Comments
I’ve grown comfortable living in my own skin
so there ain’t no need
to feel anxious or put on airs
 
I don’t seek out arguments or fights
so there ain’t no drama
bubbling up or boiling over
 
I date so rarely it could be said not at all
so there ain’t no heartache
to draw from or bleed out
 
I know this flesh is mortal
so there ain’t no fear of death
rattling around in these aging bones
 
I experience God constantly as consciousness itself
so there ain’t no cause
to question faith or doubt the existence thereof
 
It does sting my skin
when a mosquito bites
so I will smash all parasites without remorse
 
I did watch my Father die
right in front of my eyes
so I know the process ain’t pretty
 
I do suffer the same as every other soul
so I feel compassion and empathy
for those who get trapped in the pain of being human
 
I have been lied to and manipulated
and so understand the disruption such deception causes
which is why I do my best to shoot shit straight
 
Though I have lied myself as well as to myself
at times in the past
so I know that path leads nowhere fast
 
I do grow tired and weary at times
without fully understanding why
so I do my best to get a good night’s rest
 
I have stayed awake for days at a time
using chemical cocktails to chase the dragon
and so I have seen things that most have not
 
I have danced out near the edge of oblivion
and that ain’t no exaggerated hyperbole
so I know damn well that the abyss does indeed stare back
 
I have feasted gluttonously and I have fasted in renunciation
and know that both techniques have benefits and drawbacks
so I do my best to keep it in the middle of the road
 
I have experienced a lot in this life so far
but I know there is always more lying ahead
and so I keep my sights set on the future
 
I analyze my strengths and weaknesses
and so I know what I do well
but my intention is to do it best
 
The only person I’m in competition with is myself
so there ain’t no need for pettiness or jealousy
and I’m sincere when I say let’s all catch this wave and rise
I finally went to sleep around 7 a.m. this morning and didn’t wake up until after noon, so everything has been slightly out of whack on the old schedule. Today’s poem was written in the woods a few hours ago while I was out for my daily walk. My mind was a bit foggy as I hammered it out, due in part I’m sure to the 5 a.m. feast that probably wasn’t the most mindful decision I’ve ever made in my life. Hell, these things happen from time to time. So it goes…
 
I’m happy that my poem “Kaleidoscopic Wonderland” is included in the new Fall issue of Halcyon Magazine which was released today. Big thank you to Monique Berry for continuing to support my work, as this is now the third issue I’ve appeared in. The online version can be read at the link below, and the printed edition will be available sometime in the near future.
 
Halcyon Magazine – Fall 2015
 
Thank you also to Stephen Jarrell Williams for publishing “Silver Waves in the Night” and “Be Still, My Exploding Heart” at Dead Snakes last night. When it comes to people who have supported my work, Stephen is right up there at the top of the list. I’ve probably had at least 60 poems appear at Dead Snakes in the past year. I don’t know how the man keeps up with the amount of submissions he must receive because there is constantly new work going up at his site. Strong poetry from strong poets. It’s a spot I stop by at as often as possible because I know there is always going to be something good to read. I recently added Stephen’s personal site “Poet of Doom” to the Blogs Page here at 17Numa, so I’d encourage people to go check out some of his poetry.
 
Two poems at Dead Snakes
 
Alrighty…thanks to everyone who has dropped by to see what’s new. I really do appreciate every visitor that 17Numa gets. It’s really awesome to watch as the numbers continue to rise. I hope you’ll keep stopping by the site to stay connected with me and my words. I say it often that this journey is only just beginning.
 
Hit me up on Facebook and Twitter if you’d like to get in contact with me. Please know that the door is always open.
 
Selah,
Scott Thomas Outlar

Rope-A-Dope

~ 17numa ~ 3 Comments
This ache
deep in my muscles and bones
is just the black kiss of karma
having a laugh
while balancing the scales
after dosing my path
with good fortune
for the past few months.
 
These cold chills
from the hot flash flu
are just the product
of that trickster Loki
trying his damnedest
to get me to sing the blues,
but that’s just something
I don’t intend to do
because my songs of sorrow
are really just
cries of peace
from down in the marrow,
the synapses, the blood, and the core
where the fire continues to roar
eternally and evermore.
 
So break my system down into chaos
where I can howl and dance
with the symptoms of severe madness
as the temperature rises,
for there is simply no other place
such as the lowly abyss
that will serve to bring forth the seed
which, once nurtured and cultivated,
allows for the emergence
of the type of righteous order I’m starting to crave.
My weekly Sunday poem at Dissident Voice came out yesterday. As always, a huge thank you to editor Angie Tibbs for continuing to publish my work at the site. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again now, and I’ll continue to say it until the cows come home: Angie’s confidence in my work helped spark the righteous fire that has led to the past year of publications and success. I will be forever indebted to her kindness. The new poem can be read here:
 
“Facts of the Matter” – Dissident Voice
 
The wicked cool Johnny Longfellow has honored my work once again by featuring it for the second time at his always amazing site Midnight Lane Boutique. If you think I’m just flapping my gums for the hell of it, I’d urge you to follow the link below and then check over on the right side of the screen where the list of past wheelers and dealers who have rolled through those parts can be found. Midnight Lane is legit, and I’m well pleased to have three poems there right now…
 
Midnight Lane Boutique – Archive
 
Thank you to Siddharth Sehgal at Indian Periodical for publishing “A Shift, A Sneeze, A Spin Around the Cycle” yesterday. Always a pleasure to appear at his site.
 
It’s been the oddest damn thing the past couple of days as I’ve been sick for the first time in around five years. I’m feeling back on top of my game this morning, thankfully…but that achy, cold chill, down and out sort of vibe that rolled through my system for a short time definitely made me slow down over the weekend and rest. Like all circumstances that arise in life, I just take them as they come. Flow and flux with the waves. Keep sights set on the shoreline in the distance. Whether feeling sick as a dog or filled with the radiant fire of health, the mission remains ever the same…and it’ll continue to be a forward march until the goal is reached.
 
If you’re looking for new journals to read or publications where you can send submissions, be sure to check out the Links Page here at 17Numa which has a continually growing list of over 150 literary venues. If you operate a literary site that isn’t yet on the list and you’d like it to be please let me know and I’ll get it added on posthaste.
 
Feel free to leave comments here at 17Numa with your thoughts, feelings, suggestions, critiques, compliments, or even curses of my name unto the fiery pits of hell…I get a kick out of it all in one way or another. Also, I love connecting with new people on social media, so hit me up on Facebook and Twitter so we can start making waves together.
 
Selah,
Scott Thomas Outlar

Igniting Old Rivalries….A Return to the Boutique…Resting Easy before the Fallout

~ 17numa ~ Leave a comment
Just under five hours until Spurrier and the South Carolina Gamecocks come strutting into Athens Georgia, thinking somehow that they will make a stand and turn this early season around after losing their last contest and having licked their wounds all week while preparing for this upcoming battle….but the Bulldogs will likely make the point moot when they finish the job by mercifully cutting the chickens’ heads off. But not too merciful…let it first be savage, brutal, vicious, and ugly. Let there be a point spread that humiliates the Old Ball Coach and casts off his misbegotten crew of heathens back to that foul stench of hell from which they emerged. Let memories of mid-90’s games played against Florida where the scoreboard was run up late in games to embarrass the lesser-manned Dawgs be used as cannon fodder to take bloody vengeance upon the gridiron come kickoff.
 
And enough of all that, eh? It will go as it will go, as all things do. That which is beyond my control is not to be allowed overdue influence in my life. But here’s a dirty little secret…I do love to live vicariously for awhile as the game rages. There is something spectacular about high level NCAA college football that can drive one into a nice little fit of madness for a moment. There are neuron pathways flashed from here to yonder that light up with sentimental fury when watching UGA seek championship glory. When it happens (and it will), I will celebrate…hard and long and far and wide…I will sing hallelujah to both my Fathers who art in Heaven…but to one of them I’ll mean it more.
I am super stoked to say that my words are making a second appearance at the badass venue Midnight Lane Boutique, run by the very cool cat Johnny Longfellow. Ever since I came across his site earlier this year, I’ve been a huge fan. Johnny was kind enough to publish a selection of my poems back in February, and now I have three more short pieces that will be featured on the homepage for the next two weeks. You can read my current poems by following the link below, and while at the Boutique be sure to check out some of the other fine poets who have been featured, such as Scott Wozniak, A.J. Huffman, Angel Zapata, Alan Catlin, Catfish McDaris, Anggo Genorga, and J.J. Campbell
 
Midnight Lane Boutique – Archive
 
Thank you also to Mariah E. Wilson for featuring my poem “Rest Easy” at her site Sleeve Lit Mag today. Mariah has her own personal site as well which is now linked on the Blogs Page here at 17Numa, so please stop by and see what she’s up to over there.
 
I’ve got a huge announcement that I’ll be writing about tomorrow, but time is running short at the moment, and I must go for a walk before settling in to watch the Georgia game.
 
I love connecting with new people, so feel free to reach out to me on Facebook and Twitter. I hope that we can become acquainted real soon…
 
Selah,
Scott Thomas Outlar

Poetic Points…Best of the Net Nomination…Planting Seeds

~ 17numa ~ Leave a comment
Point number seventy:
 
Intuition burst (connection exploded) and awareness coated the mind. Electricity sparked (spirit rolled) and the soul spun into the collective (cycle).
 
Point number seventy-two:
 
Mythological ramifications behind every religious proclamation.
 
Point number eighty:
 
Peace reigned as Love took control. power was not at issue. the people found Truth in the pain and pleasure of each other through Empathy.
 
Point number eighty-two:
 
His name was poem. Her name was fictitious.
 
Point number eighty-four:
 
The (yellow) fear now overcome, the water of life (blue) put out the fires of (red) religion, sparking a bud of (green) electricity.
 
Point number eighty-six:
 
All (except) is fair (experiences) in (of) love (non) and war (existence).
 


A wonderful and unexpected email from Kind of A Hurricane Press arrived yesterday evening, informing me that “Poetic Points” (12-21) which appeared at The Mind[less] Muse back on March 18 has been nominated for the 2015 Best of the Net Anthology. A huge thank you to A.J. Huffman and April Salzano for showing such support toward my work with this selection.
 
I’d like to also say thank you to Marianne Szlyk who featured six of my poems at her site “The Song is…” a couple of days ago. I was humbled when she reached out to me last month and asked if I had thought of sending a batch of poems her way, and I was further humbled shortly after when she accepted the pieces which I chose to submit. To be in the company of some of her recent contributors such as Felino A. Soriano, Clifford Brooks, Pijush Kanti Deb, and Catfish McDaris, is, as I say, an honor. Anyone who would like to read the poems, please do so by following the link below:
 
Six Poems – The Song is…
 
A few other poems that have come out this week:
 
“Stoic through the Storm” – Dissident Voice
“Six into Seven” – experiential-experimental-literature
“Left Wondering” – Whispers
 
And here is the link to the nominated piece from Kind of A Hurricane Press, which, by the way, was written years ago in the Spring of 2003 as part of a project called “One Hundred Poetic Points.” Other excerpts have appeared in New Mystics, Indefinite Space, and ex-ex-lit. The poems featured here on today’s 17Numa post are also from that time so long ago. I live with the mindset that every intention I act upon is likened to a seed being planted for a future season. When I receive a Best of the Net nomination for something I wrote twelve years ago it makes me crack a smile because I remember planting that seed, cultivating that seed, watering that seed, and now getting to see that seed sprout…and that’s pretty dadgum cool, fo’ real. Then I get back to work.
 
“Poetic Points (12-21)” – The Mind[less] Muse
 
I continue meeting new and interesting people every day, and it’s more and more of a blast with each step taken along the path…so please feel free to reach out and connect with me on Facebook and Twitter so I can have a fresh dose of brain fuel to make this day buzz.
 
Selah,
Scott Thomas Outlar

It’s a Numbers Game

~ 17numa ~ Leave a comment
A thousand sheep
for every Jesus
 
A million monks
for every Buddha
 
A billion rocks
for every diamond
 
A trillion failed attempts
for every finalized piece of art
 
– This poem appeared earlier in the year at Guy Farmer’s site The Poet Community. Before that it appeared for many years upon the hallway wall of my old house where it was born.
I was happy to check the mail yesterday and find copies of Section 8 Magazine issue 31 which includes my poem “Inheriting the Earth.” I’m always stoked to appear in this sweet zine that is headquartered out of Seattle. I highly recommend checking in now and then at their online site which consistently puts out good poetry and art. You can give them a gander here:
 
Section 8 Magazine
 
Thank you to Karen O’Leary for publishing my poem “Left Wondering” at her site Whispers yesterday. There is a nice community of poets over there, and if anyone is looking for a spot to send some work you might want to keep Whispers in mind because Karen is always looking to feature new material.
 
Thank you also to Matt Margo at experiential-experimental-literature for publishing my poem “Six into Seven” early this morning. I wrote the piece specifically with ex-ex-lit in mind, so I was well pleased to see it had been accepted. This is more and more becoming my preferred method of operations of late…I decide upon a specific venue, take a walk up to the park, sit down in the woods, take a deep breath, and then trust in The Process to bring forth the right words for the occasion. It doesn’t always lead to an acceptance, but more times than not it has, and I’m certainly not going to complain about a percentage rate such as that.
 
I’ve had acceptances recently from Extreme Writing Community and Sleeve Lit Mag…poems should be out this week at both of these venues. Also, I’m very excited to announce that I’ll have poems coming out at the stroke of Midnight this coming Saturday at one of my favorite sites, Midnight Lane Boutique, which is edited by the very cool Johnny Longfellow. I’ll say a bit more about this later in the week, as it is deserving of a post all its own.
 
As I continue to build the Blogs Page here at 17Numa new ideas about future plans keep boiling up and rising to the surface level of consciousness. I’m looking forward to rolling such plans out in the months ahead. This site is about my work, yes, but my work is dedicated to the Renaissance as a whole, and that means it’s just about time to start featuring the words of my contemporaries here. But, as I said, more on that to follow…
 
Please feel free to drop me a line here anytime by leaving a comment. I love to hear from new people as the dialogue begins to open up. If you dig what I’m laying down here then be sure to follow 17Numa to keep up to date on what is happening next…and I’d also like to encourage you to connect with me on Facebook and Twitter. I appreciate everyone who stops by, and I promise that the best is yet to come.
 
Selah,
Scott Thomas Outlar


Pressure Points

~ 17numa ~ 4 Comments
Hit play.
The opening note on an album
I haven’t listened to in awhile
triggers a rush of memories
that cascade through my consciousness
from a season many years now passed.
 
Where does the time go?…
 
I haven’t seen my best friend in months…
I miss you, brother –
 
There is a burgeoning future
of wild, ecstatic dreams
being born in my mind,
but I wonder…
have I left too much
of the past
behind?
 
I walk along the sidewalk in broad daylight,
dancing and singing to myself.
Cracking fissures dissolve sanity…in a good way.
My greatest fear used to be being seen…
now I crave attention
like an avalanche
upon my words/wounds.
 
The ego is an untamable beast…
Hubris always falls in the end…
Steady as she goes, son…
Keep it in the middle of the road…
 
Two energy patterns are coalescing
as the Summer sun is kissed
by a gentle Autumn breeze –
an alchemical wedding
at the cusp
of a turning cycle.
 
I’m so happy I could weep.
I need a dose of melancholia
to keep my blood stable.
 
I am not the soaring eagle…
I am not the slithering serpent…
I am just a man
taking one step at a time
toward something…somewhere…
knowing I’ll get there somehow
if I only put this left foot
in front of the right
and keep pretending
everything is fine –
 


The album in question is Wintersleep’s “Welcome to the Night Sky.”
The season was the Summer of 2009.
The synchronicity was a constant stream of magical bliss.
Those were the days…
 
…but, hell, this current phase ain’t half bad, either.
 
Thank you to everyone who read my recent interview with Yellow Chair Review. I really appreciate the kind feedback that I’ve received…it means a lot to me. For anyone who hasn’t read it yet and would like to, here’s the link:
 
Interview with Yellow Chair Review
 
I was sent a new batch of really good questions by another venue yesterday. I’ve been meditating and reflecting upon them this afternoon, and I’ll likely start typing up my answers later in the evening. It’s really exciting to know that people are reading my work and care enough about what I have to say to want to learn more about my process and philosophy. All I can promise is that I’ll do my best to deliver.
 
Progress on the Blogs Page here at 17Numa continues along at a steady clip. The page is dedicated to the work of contemporary writers and artists, and I’d encourage everyone to check it out…there’s a lot of great content that can be jumped to from the links found there. I’d like to give a shout out to Charles Clifford Brooks III whom I reached out to yesterday in hopes I could add his information to the list. This guy is the real deal. I’m quite happy to have met him. Check out his publishing venue, The Southern Collective Experience, and then, if you dig what they’re about, order a copy of his book “The Draw of Broken Eyes & Whirling Metaphysics.”
 
If you’d like to get in touch with me, please feel free to hit me up here at 17Numa, as well as on Facebook and Twitter. I’m always psyched to meet new people. This journey continues to get more interesting by the day…
 
Selah,
Scott Thomas Outlar