Wherever It May Go – Poems and Poetry

Waiting for Its Turn – Poetry Life & Times

Shattered Moments – Novelmasters

Broken Evolution – Novelmasters

Bay Bridge – Novelmasters

Wagering Early in the A.M. – The Screech Owl

I’ve had six total poems posted today at four different venues (thank you to them all) which means I’ve now published 134 pieces so far in 2015 in various magazines, journals and websites (again, thank you to them all). But the only damned thing I can think about is the next, the next, the next, the next. I think they call that chasing the mother fucking dragon…which I’ve certainly had my fair share of experience with. Hell, I used to think certain drugs could be addicting…now I’ve got a whole other demon to dance with. If it sounds like I’m complaining, I’m not. After all, a man has to have some way to waste away the hours of his life.

If life itself is The Lesson, where does that leave those who are too cool for school?

Selah,

Scott Thomas Outlar

Recently published:

The Brahman Spirit – Tuck Magazine

Flipping the Switch – Tuck Magazine

True Meaning – The Poet Community

Until the Next Fall was accepted today and will appear in the Summer issue (21) of Exercise Bowler.

I wrote this poem tonight (well, last night at this point) and posted it on Facebook:

Prioritizing the Itinerary

I saw God
descending downward
in a golden halo cloud
from Heaven’s precipice,
radiating pure source energy
with electrical sparks illuminating space
in every direction.
I saw the sky rip open.
I saw the New Age birthed.
I saw the world rejoicing
in outbursts of uncontrollable weeping.
I saw people falling to their knees
in praise and adulation,
worshiping the miracle,
singing with angelic voices
in a chorus of perfect harmony and rhythm
about the blessings
being bestowed upon the Earth
through the grace of a second coming.
I saw it all transpire
in a Big Bang flash
of terrible awesomeness.
I saw the unfolding
of a glorious affirmation
as peace flowed over the land
and rippled in cascades through the blood
beating in the veins of a billion newly opened hearts.

Two poems published today:

Broken Chalice – Visual Verse

Moving On – Inwood Indiana “Crossroads” paperback

Four acceptances from:

Jotters United

Halcyon Magazine

Degenerates: Voices for Peace

The Bitchin’ Kitsch

Four rejection letters from venues that will one day offer acceptances.

6 out of 10 sounds pretty good to me.

It is a fact enforced by the highest vibrations of natural law that the truth comes in waves…but try explaining that to someone who happens to be drowning…it’s not such an easy sell.

Oh fuck, I’m drinking past midnight…didn’t they warn us about this kind of behavior in Gremlins? Or was that just chicken bones?

Selah,

Scott Thomas Outlar

Four poems published today:

Demolition Days – Dissident Voice

Giving in to the Beast – Aphelion

Until the Next Fall – Exercise Bowler

The Blind Leading the Blind – Dead Snakes

Selah,

Scott Thomas Outlar

Detaching from the Fall – Published today at Uut Poetry

I’m going to take the easy, low, sleazy, treacherous route tonight and just use the copy and paste functions to plagiarize my own work from Facebook posts written earlier in the evening…

A philosophical quandary:
What happens when you make that pivotal life decision to finally leave the past behind you, and then realize, as you turn your back to walk away, that you forgot your keys inside the last bar you were drinking at?

I’m feeling a bit too cocky this evening.
Jesus Christ, Buddha, somebody, anybody, come strike me down, slaughter this poisonous ego, and scatter the ashes to the four winds of chaos, lest I begin buying into the bullshit hype that is rolling around in my own head.
Oh no…I just poured another glass of Pinot…I’m afraid it is already too late…

Working on the final edits and tweaks to my debut chapbook “A Black Wave Cometh” which is set to be released in April through Dink Press. I’m getting a bit of an itchy trigger finger tonight…wanting to throw something from the project out there…so here’s an excerpt…

Begging for the Lie

Pump me full of venom
and let me loose
in the garden
where I can sink my fangs
into this fallen creation

I had two poems published today:

Bloody Genes – Record

The Kingdom – The Screech Owl

And this is something I threw up on Facebook tonight:

OK, I’m feeling frisky and have a good buzz beginning to develop, so why not, eh?

Remember the election – damn, it’s really important to vote this particular political party in over that other political party because it will certainly make a huge difference in the change we start to see.

Remember the Super Bowl – damn, how could they throw a pass in that situation from inside the five with one time out in their back pocket and an absolute Beast ready to run roughshod over some poor doomed fools?

A last hour save by Social Justice Poetry kept whatever type of streak I have going alive, meaning at least one poem got published today. I’ve had 65 poems published so far in February and 115 so far in 2015. When I consciously think about those numbers they seem a bit ridiculous. Such a breakneck pace might end up throwing me into a terrible fit of exhaustion, but, hell, I’m going to keep the throttle pushed to 170 mph for as long as I possibly can. I didn’t wait for over a decade to finally start the process of publishing just to take my foot off the gas right as things really start revving up. No, no, it’s basically success or annihilation at this point.

To Each Its Own is actually an excerpt from a longer piece that originally appeared at Dissident Voice a few months ago. Speaking of Dissident Voice, my weekly poem there has already had more shares in the first four days of the week than any other poem has received during the entire seven months I’ve been contributing. That seems like a positive sign.

Also on the good news front, Dink Press will be publishing my debut chapbook “A Black Wave Cometh” at some point in the near future, most likely in the latter half of April. The time has come to really dig my heels in and start marketing the idea that my words need to be read. After all, the key to any solid advertising campaign is convincing people that a want of some kind is actually a need.

Selah,

Scott Thomas Outlar

I had poems published in three places today:

Thus Spoke the Grave Digger – The Poet Community

Freak Out – Poems and Poetry

Cutting the Circle – Dead Snakes

Daily Bread – Dead Snakes

If only a simple, single bottle of wine were enough to raise my spirits on high to that peak wave of emotion that would cause me to write things embarrassing/outrageous/witty enough to go viral. Alas, perhaps it is not the sacrament of Jesus I should be drinking, but the ancient blood of Dionysus?

Selah,

Scott Thomas Outlar

Some Aren’t Poisonous was published at Napalm and Novocain today – A poem that, along with around twenty-five other pieces, was written five years ago over a three day period during a harsh, biting Winter that involved important conversations with Gurus on the Streets of Atlanta. Also involved in the process: many bottles of alcohol, handfuls of pills in the wee hours of the morning, and a hundred or so bong rips. In other words, a chemical cocktail designed to slam dunk the pineal gland into hyper drive performance. That doesn’t mean the writing was necessarily good, it just means I was able to see things from the other side for awhile. There are certain visions that are not meant to be rationally explained. There are certain paths that can never be retraced.

High/Low was accepted today by Crack the Spine for future publication. I now have a poem and a short story that will pop up in their pages at some point.

The sun came up, the sun went down.

Another day, Another dollar.

So it goes.

Selah,

Scott Thomas Outlar

If one does not first become intimately entwined with the seductive power of pain, one will never be able to fully experience the true high wave emotion brought about through intense revelations of pleasure.

A patience that is never ending could just as easily be said to have never actually begun.

I had five acceptance letters today from different editors.

I also had my weekly poem at Dissident Voice get published. When I Think About (Insert Politician Here) had more shares on the first day than any other poem I’ve published at DV in the past seven months since I began regularly contributing. This is after last weeks piece – House Rules – performed better than any poem prior to it.

This is all very good news. It means there is some sort of upward trajectory beginning to manifest. Yet, it just never feels like enough. The psychological high/reward which I seek remains ever elusive. A constant chasing of the dragon. It’s either that, or maybe the existential longings and terrors are just starting to wear me down…

Selah,

Scott Thomas Outlar