campbellonemillion

Holly and the Cure

2013-03-25T19:08:00.001-07:00

She's running for her two children, Aidan and Owen, that lost their birth mother when they were 5 and 2. She's running for me, because their mother, my first wife, died of cancer. She's running because my first wife and her children's birth mother was her childhood friend. She's running because Amy Brei Donaldson died on June 8th, 2007, at the, otherwise healthy and very young, age of just 31 years old: dead, stricken with 500 tumors from the waste up at just 31 years old.

old /ōld/ Adjective Having lived for a long time; no longer young. Made or built long ago: "the old quarter of the town".

This definition has no place in Amy's story. She did not live for a long time. Ask Owen. He doesn't remember her. Ask Aidan. His memories of her are of the things I've told him since she died. If she lived a long time she wouldn't be dead. I hope I've said the right things to Aidan for his memory's sake. Amy was not made or built a long time ago. 31 years old makes no sense.

Synonyms ancient - aged - olden - antique - former

Of these words "Ancient" makes sense now, at least to Owen. Ancient is as if something never existed in your lifetime. "Former" makes the most sense to Holly, Aidan, and I. To Holly, Amy is a former friend, to me, Amy is my former wife, and to Aidan, Amy is his former mother.

Words lose meaning, become cruel, breakdown, are numb. Words are too human and do not beat a human heart. When your mother dies, whose heart loves you...whose heart do you love...can you love someone that is gone: or is that "former" love? Love is eternal. Right?

So Holly picks up these pieces for Aidan, and for Owen, and she has picked up the pieces of my life and made a life of it so beautiful, beyond my words or comprehension. Holly picks up a family wronged by death as well as Jesus picks up the Cross of the World.

When a story is human and wrecked the hurt is all too human and gets buried and becomes unapproachable. But the life you create in the midst of pain becomes a garden. Aidan and Owen stepbrothers to Tyler. Juliana half sister to Aidan Owen and Tyler. Holly Mother to all. I'm the grateful dad. We are a family.

So I get ready for another day of work, and I wave goodbye to Holly on the treadmill. Owen plays his video games, as Holly keeps running and training. Outside Aidan says goodbye, as Holly runs down the driveway and down the road. Holly runs as Amy smiles. Holly runs past Amy waving her on from the side of the road. Holly runs with Amy on her back. Holly runs with Amy's children, now her own, in her hands. Holly runs with my heart in her heart. Amy yells down and whispers in her ear as she runs: way to go Holly...way to go...and thank you for running for my life...

If you can support her in anyway it is always appreciated: Holly is running for the Cure!!!

http://northjersey.info-komen.org/site/TR/Events?px=11039206&pg=personal&fr_id=3936&s_subsrc=bfstream&s_src=boundlessfundraising

In Memoriam: Amy B Donaldson 2/8/1976 - 6/8/2007

Jules of My World

2012-10-25T11:34:00.001-07:00

If you know Jules you love her...that fact can not vanish from your heart...

Jules is not just precious stone, delicate flower, everyday baby...Jules is before the after life and after what came before...

She is the beast burrowed in my heart and burrowed in the ethereal realm where I exist: beyond apples and tears...

Jules is a butterfly, sea stone, wet bird, absurd little comic strip...

I dug Jules from dirt, Jules came from sky...I plant Jules in the ground, Jules is water, Jules lights up night skies...

Jules is both buddy and best friend..."wanna lay with me" from her sweet soul..."want some" wet cookie from her reaching hand..."huggie" with arms wrapped round my neck and head..."I'm not goin bed: I'm watch'n Umizumi" in mad defiance..."kiss" from small puckered lips, little hand in my hand,
little buddy running circles round my head, at work all day and I miss Jules...

I have always struggled between seeing the world as a dark place with nothing but a dark ending into entropy and nothingness...and seeing the world as living breathing spirit with no end even in death...

Jules tugs at my heart strings like a mad puppeteer...Jules likes to see me run for her, get up for her, work for her, feed her and tuck her in at night...Jules knows I would slice my own throat for her...

You should know what I would do to you for her...

I don't think an explanation for my last sentence is needed...

But Jules won't always need me...doesn't matter though I will always be there...Jules is a bad ass...but I'm her crazy father...these are waters best not tested...

My little girl is sweet honey, golden cuteness, tender skin and eyes...My girl is worth my life...

If you know Jules you love her...

If you know me you know not to look at Jules the wrong way...

I'm not just some over protective psycho dad...I will chase you, hunt you, skin you, and piss on your corpse...if you see Jules stand back just a bit and keep my nerves at ease...it's best for us all...

I don't have to ask for any more gifts from Earth...I have my boys, I have Beautiful Holly...I have Juliana Skye Campbell...

My eyes developed crows feet...I'm a dead crow walking a mean world, a cruel world and a cold world...the world absurd...

Jules is pink in a blue hue, she walks in light steps, guiding my blind feet, holding my one finger in her little hand...she won't let me go...Jules holds me up with a glance and beckon from her baby soul, her ancient soul burrowed in my time...

I went apple picking over two years ago...I picked Jules red ripe: fresh from the vine...Jules the apple of my eye...my world is an apple...my apple has blue eyes...sun-pretty eye lashes and eye lids rising, back to the sea and sky, ultramarine, cobalt, sapphire, cerulean…

I stole Jules and Beautiful Holly from both sea and sky and I won't give them back...

Salitter and Time

2012-10-22T08:36:00.001-07:00

There is no God and we are his prophets.
-Cormac McCarthy: The Road

I used to measure time by geese and two seasons...The coming and the going...the marching...A pale background to the cackle of crows in the trees below me...The blood and fire of a crimson day in the cerulean cobalt of the soul...Is salvation salvation if all you are is dead? Time was slow and the balcony unstable...

If something is gone does it leave you empty...is the empty music...like you, I move to the coffee and cream...if the cup is half empty, it's half full...if you are filling in the void then you see the glass is half full...when you realize you can never fill the void the glass will always just be empty...

I'm always sorry...

My human wakes in the coming sleep of a dimming Fall...the annual mad splash of acrylic on canvas in the growing shadow...

II hold Juliana in the sky contemplating the apocalypse: kafka: blake: I wonder!darkness: light! Gold: spirit! My girl is treasured gold...

I choose to walk the road with treasured gold round my neck...I choose the long way...the painful steps...the crunch in the leaves leaving my family behind in those steps...

Last night I was in the shower rubbing my eyes and in the wet I got a dark feeling from the always constant knowledge that you could be snaked out by death at any moment...life truly is written like you have one day,two, three days to live weeks, months, one year to live...you're going to die...

I'm going to die.

Ok I guess. I have to accept it no matter what I choose to believe. Whether I'm at peace with God or I resign to, that death is just the end, either way I don't have a choice to not die and not find out. So I'm resurrecting my blog because I still pump blood.

I love books and I am having a hard time letting go of The Road by Cormac McCarthy...I feel like we're breaking up...and I have to go on knowing what I know now...I'm carrying the fire...the salitter is drying from my life...my eyes have been stolen...my mouth sealed with dirt...I have the bitter knowledge...these words and it are a gift..

In an age of pain could I shoot my child? In a dead age...I will go on holding my child in the dark: a dark that will never know light...I will be carrying the fire with him(my boys) and my girls and my dogs and I will hold on like pain wrapped around my heart like a knife in the skin...the book hurt so much it solidified my human capacity for love at all cost for a father and son and that love could be cast out like the net of father and daughter, husband wife, grandfather: grandma...

I measure time now by ageing kids and the dying and the leaving...and I love being a father...my children are air and I breathe and hold in my lungs...deeply, the air in river valleys runs like the water below..

I often wonder when we communicate if anything that transpires stays with you...does it stay with you like you stay with me? are we like two kayaks at a quiet distance at dusk on flat lucid water...

I found a piece of a rainbow in my yard...and the word salitter is a feast...it can be found twice in literature from the 17th century till now...Jacob Boehme, the Christian mystic, wrote: What is in Paradise is made of the celestial Salitter… [it] is clear, resplendent … The forces of the celestial Salitter give rise to celestial fruits flowers, and vegetation.’

Cormac McCarthy simply said of a dying world in The Road "The salitter drying from the Earth." The devastation given Boehme's meaning is unfathomable...could God's essence ever dry from the land? I hope not...I'm fighting it...I'm writing again...today I give the gift of this one word...

My Rapture, My Love

2011-05-22T20:13:00.000-07:00

My Rapture is My Love, You My Beautiful Holly, My beautiful rapture...I love you, My Love, madly...I'm the master of my heart and You are my madness, I'm a genius of nothing, and I love you and I love you...I'm a genius on my knees, I'm a genius deeply loving my wife...

You're my sweet girl, sweet of coconut and sea breeze, my demon, my gorgeous flower burst upon the world, the body of my desire, soul of mad fire...On my anniversary I'm saying, My Love, that I love you with my whole heart, I love you with all my heart, my entire heart, I love you completely...

Our anniversary rises with the dawn, the shape of time is the shape of your shape, which forms the space around us so perfect, time is perfect, I lose myself inside you.

I'd have to be a genius of piano to say I love you completely. I'd have to kill a lion. You're so damn hot, and your starting to look like the Sun. I throw these lines at you, and you bury them with a smile. I can't breath, yet I live, I'm not living and I need to. "Thank you" falls short...fails...No words are enough when I want to say I love you. I loved you on Mother's Day and I fail you daily. I love you like madness...

We hike. The day dawns on my life as you walk about my inner life, I hide behind trees in the woods, I step out and yell. Holly Girl you take me over, and you give, and I take...my life is yours...

Thank you for being my favorite Yankee fan, my best friend, the cactus in the desert of my heart, thank you for being the land of paradise...you are not just an idea...the lands across your body are the lands of Eden...and Eden is ours...so is sun and moon and stars...Earth is our land...

I want new things for us and our children...I want so much and to experience so much with Us together, never separate, never divided...I crave you...This family is a feast, this family is our celebration...

I love that you love all of our children, you are so good, you're so beautiful...you're the best wife and the best mother...you due great things, your energy: a magnetic force, keeps your planets circling the shape of your bang'n body...have I mentioned you're hot?

What have I done to prove my love...I want to slice my wrist to show you I love you...I want to take the moon from the night's sky and give it to you in a small white box...I'm sacrificing my life for your life...for the rest of my life please, please baby, just keep being my wife...

Happy Anniversary Holly Girl!!!

Girls in My World

2011-03-03T09:13:00.000-08:00

I wake up in the malaise of day. I wake up with energy in my hands. Energy is the force of all things moving forward. I throw it like a baseball. I love my day and I love my life, as ahhh, man does not live by bread alone.

So the water of day comes slow, comes blue, the water of day rides the surf, out to sea, and out in sun.
I bask in the sun of today, want for the warmth of Spring, I wake with a cool breeze and a tickle to live my life...

Julia Bagulia rocks my Universe...Juliana Sky...Campbell...Little mush in big blue heavens...Little mush is a blue heaven of eyes...I'll punch your face if you get to close...I'll bite your face...step away or I'll bite your head off...she's got my attention, and I'll divide your face up...

I feel saturated with melting snow. I've got white caps in the water of mind from an eastern wind. My heart wakes like the lion and wants the lamb of Spring.

With the energy of day I keep hope alive to the flowers of my garden, the fruit of my seed, that hope and hope alone delivers the Kingdom to Earth.

I spin my girl dancing like a thousand lotus flowers to the world.
I've got one-hundred-thousand eyes like bullets.

I struggle through the night, yet wind and love push through. Love just dances, and wind blows. Beautiful Holly is the honey at the center of the Kingdom of bees. Beautiful Holly is that sweet: so sweet it stings like bees.

I can't wait for my life all the time, I can't wait for the time, or the beast or the hell, or the flowers, I can't wait for it right now, I'm just going and throwing my weight around like Dad, like Gorilla-Jungle-Dad.

I just like waking in the terrain where heart meets mind, where sun-sets burn like night's fire. I like to burn through my morning and make it hot. I like purity in my day. I like holy water. I'd like to step in a footprint of God.

I want the tap of holy water filling my mug when I go about my day like an injured human with my clenched fist in the air screaming to sky yelling I am, and sipping the beer of light and feeling that, I love.

I want to be clear in my speech when I say my wife is my kingdom and my daughter is the flower of my heart...

I've got two ladies...and for differing and similar reasons I'd kill you for both of them...

I am in Awe

2011-01-07T19:40:00.000-08:00

For a blogger it's been longer than it should have for me to blog again...but a steam train needs a sucker to continually throw coal into the fire...and well...I'm blogging tonight...

I need to change the name of this blog though...I am not so much a freelance writer anymore...

This Monday I return to the elementary school life in Union City...Freelance writing didn't quite make the bill...I just want to support my family...so one way or another I'm trying to make that happen...besides I got a daughter that looks like Cindy Lou...so ain't no Grinch gonna steal my kids Christmas...I'll put a gun to his head first...Thanks Dad!

I've been back to church again and said fuck it...God is here...if you don't believe me oh well...I'm done arguing with myself about it, so I certainly won't argue with anyone else about it either...Knowing and believing in the truth of a mountain beyond comprehension is peaceful and more human than nihilism...if God was dead than so are we...and trust me the air I breath is fresh as ever..

So in this losing myself I'm determined to find myself...I lost my blog somewhere and found it here in the palm of my hand...and if you read this I guess my words have made sense to you...

I stared at Orion's belt tonight and thought "holy shit, our entire solar system fits in between just two stars of his stars" that sucks...we're small...but we are big...we sit in the hand of God, so that's not a bad place to be...

So what do we or I do with that? The best I can...

Take pictures, love beautiful Holly...(oh have I mentioned I stepped in a gold mine when I moved to NJ?)

Lets see I found my hot hot hot wonderful beautiful best friend beautiful Holly, gave life to Juliana Skye Campbell(well, played my part), and moved right near my parents, other family members, and NYC...ahhhh, as the Buddha might say!

So for the rest of my life I'm going to try my best to laugh like a mad man...and live with the sanity of man who knows God...which is quite frankly a bit of insanity...kind of like loving a woman....Ha! both = A man on fire...

So I will blog again and more often...I know seeing NYC on a daily basis from Union City will help...as will working with kids again...I love Union City and I'm glad to see the kids I worked with for a year and a half again...they are angels...

Tomorrow I will write a poem if it kills me and share it here at some point...and Sunday I will be at church with my boys...it's been boys weekend, as Beautiful Holly went to Georgia to visit Melody with Heather and Jules...

We have played with moon-sand, ate spaghetti and tacos, saw Yogi Bear, ate candy, some video games, sledding, art time, snow shoveling, and have two days left...

In a couple of days I see my daughter and my gorgeous wife...How lucky am I?

You don't have a clue! if you do though I am happy for you...if you don't than well I hope you do someday soon...

So what do I name my new blog...hmmmm...by tomorrow it will be it's new name...

For now I name my life lucky-n-poor...guess I'd rather be that than rich-n-poor...

Can't wait to see you both...hold you both...smell you both...my daughter and my wife....my life....

My boys and me...what a life...I fucking love it...

Live grand...can't wait to write a poem tomorrow....can't wait to see the Sun...can't wait to touch cold water on my hike...can't wait to touch water that breathes...The Universe is a cradle and I love the way it rocks...

My life is profound!!! I am in Awe!!!

Why Are You Here?

2010-11-26T22:09:00.000-08:00

Why am I here? It's the most difficult question to truly answer. Even if you can come up with a reason for your existence it's still only your personal explanation, and not a fact: a real answer to the question.

So I look at my baby girl. She has the most precious eyes that ever has or ever will walk the Earth. Do I need another reason to be here: to be alive?

Absolutely!

I have three other kids and the most fucking beautiful wife I could ever ask for...

Yet I can't rest my mind on a settling meaning of life...the Autumn season does this to me...I get nostalgic, contemplative, depressed, deep, appreciative, sad, and peaceful.

It is the season I am almost at peace in with the idea of death...yet often it is the season I feel most alive in, as cold air rushes into my lungs, pumps my blood, urges me to grasp the life in front of me with all I have within me, as it may just disappear at any moment with any passing season...

so yes I have kids, and they certainly give me a reason to keep moving at a livable pace, but I yearn for more...I yearn for more for them...

Tonight I had my three boys meditate with me on four things in this order...silence, something about themselves they would like to eradicate; like anger, laziness, rudeness etc, something they would like to exemplify; like happiness, love, kindness etc, and a seed or a tree...

a lot of giggling went on, but we will visit the idea a couple times a week, and seeds will be planted...

This Sunday I finally get to go back to church...things like life have gotten in the way since we planned it a few weeks back, but now I am blessed to return to a life of prayer...I worry about trite things like if I will like the priest or the church or the etc...but my mind wants to be quiet and still...

From the outside I look either bored, or lazy, or at peace...just not nearly as crazy as I would look from the inside...A life of prayer, a true devotion to this thing we call spirit will settle the muck of my mind I am sure of it...

I feel like I have an entire symphony called My Life to live for, and it is so worth living that I feel the need to give thanks, to be grateful, to sing, to laugh, and to pray...My life, my kids, this life and my wife are immeasurable gold to me...

So with Christ and all things holy I am stepping back out of my human shell...with the Sun I am the light and heat of my family...with Buddha I am a silent retreat...

I walk on poetry...

I pray to bells and wind...and an ordered universe...

I give thanks to all I have been blessed with...

I live to live for my family...

East Bumble Fuck of the Mind

2010-11-02T20:18:00.000-07:00

I have a terrible way of shutting down when I come to a wall in my life...I came to a point in my writing venture where my mind had to veer off, for various reasons, and lose sight of itself in a static-haze, which I now call an east bumble fuck of the mind...

It's a place I would like to avoid as often as I can...but I am back and back on fire...

To supplement my life I'm riding shotgun on a UPS truck till the end of the Christmas season, so if you see campbellonemillion coming your way with a brown box...just say WHADDUP!!!

As seasonal jobs go this one is good for a couple of reasons...for one thing, all the running like a toady back and forth from truck to house to truck to house to truck and back again has my blood pumping and making me realize I just don't take care of my body: or mind and soul at that...and there is no better time to be outside and alive than Autumn...

I have a good partner in Truck Driver Mark...he seems to be the comic wizard of hustle: caring about the peeps that make up his route, as he gets his shit done with the hustle of Santa Claus...

This weekend the family and I are taking the journey back to church...I feel the call again, and if you have read my thoughts on religion you know this is a never ending winding pathway up some mountain I hope just isn't an endless topless peak of the spirit amounting to a god damn it, I traveled up this heap pile for nothing, Fuck Damn!

I love when the spirit calls. I feel the fire...it burns...it is good...going to mix some prayer time at family dinner and whenever...Psalms, chants, homilies, mixed nuts, Buddhas, Jesus, red and white wine, nails to the cross, hammer to the head...any sacred ground of the heart I can stick my spiritual shovel in and dig away...I am sick from not looking at every inch of life as non-sacred when every inch of life IS sacred...do you feel me?

So I had kind of a travel to the far east bumble fuck of the mind last night...

In an effort to sell off our other animals, to make room for Caymus, Tyler and I drove to Warwick, NY to rid ourselves of the headache that was the fish tank...

We left at seven, in the dark...hit the highway east and then north...after a bit of north travel the GPS sent us to a dark road headed northeast...we went winding upwards, or spiraling downwards, for about 45 minutes...into bumble fuck and small town USA...

As we're riding on empty and one bar of life on my cell phone/GPS Tyler's phone falls into the bucket of water containing our remaining fish...$50 bucks for Tyler down the drain for a new phone now...sweet deal!

About 2.5 miles from crazy dudes house and my phone/GPS dies...nice!

I can't remember his house number, but then I do...we find it: a bunch of college kids and no crazy dude...WTF!

Tyler and I travel into little town in search of a pay phone...hahahahahahaha!

The lady behind the counter at the gas station lets us use her cell phone...Holly confirms the house number I thought it was...Awesome!

So we look one more time, and well there is a convenient store next to 699 that also says 699 on the front door...it's closed, but the lights on upstairs lead me to the back porch, and we do complete the fish tank journey!

The trip went about an hour, a bag of chips, Reeses Peanut Butter Cups, an orange Vitamin Water, and 20 miles over schedule and Tyler had a dead phone...

But we managed to talk about space, ambition, nothingness, young love, house rules, a whole bunch of retarded shit, and we danced to pop music down Rt. 80 doing 75 mph; and 100 mph through life, ruling our little bubble of space that is the inside of my car...

We returned financially as poor as we left, but rich in some cool ass bonding time i wouldn't trade for (insert something of value)...Tyler is cool!

Again my heart opens outward toward new and old things. I am rejuvenated like a flower that never fails to bloom again. I wonder how many lasting seeds the spirit will plant again. I am pointing to the spirit within my children for once. I hope they see what I see. I hope I point the right way: the clear way. I've got a bag of seeds and some water. I'm gonna throw'm all over the fuck'n place and spray water like there's a fire blaz'n the world up. Let it burn and save us all. Pray till it all goes to shit and sing as you breathe.

Make A Wish

2010-10-21T08:33:00.000-07:00

I've got a couple of beautiful women in my life if you haven't noticed...and I'm trying to move mountains right now to make sure this family is provided for. Starting a business, especially a lonesome venture like freelance writing takes energy and time to take off...so there is my short short version of my blog neglect...

I love this blog and the satisfaction it brings, so it has found a place in my life that won't dislodge itself...this is my life, my chronicle, my way of keeping up with myself...I have been swamped in writing assignments which is only a good thing, and staying focussed is a job...

So Holly Girl, her official title in my cell phone (you all know her as Beautiful Holly) has stated she wants to adopt Aidan and Owen...this was voiced to me after a rough patch over the weekend...

What if I die or we divorce? She wants them in her life! I was in shock at the thought...I love my wife, but if we divorce will I really give up my boys a few days a week?...I said yes, which garnered happy tears...if I want my boys to have a mother, and I found someone that wants to stay as their mother, then I need to give all my heart to the idea and allow that relationship to be real no matter what...

So my beautiful family raised over $1250 dollars for the Make A Wish foundation and the walk was this weekend...we ended up in the top 10 teams somewhere in terms of money raised. So that felt great to give back just a piece of what was given to Owen and my family...

Families were urged to color coordinate their team shirts to show unity...

We showed up as super heroes...because if you read this blog you know that's how we fucking roll around here...

Aidan, as The Flash, managed to beat no one to the finish line, except for the people that showed up late....Owen was Mr. Incredible and Autumn was Super Girl, yet they needed to be carried because they were tired...and Tyler was The Punisher, though the only punishing he did was at the free food table...

Someone from Cake Boss was there and no one could hear a word he said during his speech...but no doubt it was inspiring...with an Italian accent...

The weather was beautiful, and the Body Slam Champion of the World was walking too...he was smaller than me...and his Champion belt was bigger than him...

So onward I type as my life rushes forward...

In this picture you will take note that I dressed up as the ageing, balding, scruffed up Superman...I strategically placed myself behind Holly to hide my super love handles...

Some how we ended up with two Bat-chicks...and a washed out old couple...who the hell are they? Oh! Hi mom and dad...

To this day I continue to be blessed in a mad world...for that I am grateful...

Confessions of a Glass Breaker

2010-10-14T21:17:00.000-07:00

Ok I promised step by step instructions on how to replace the side window of a Dodge Dakota...

fuck that...

I have a history of breaking glass that I need to shoot from the hip about...

When I was younger, hmmm...maybe 8-9-10 or some shit like that...I used to pour rubbing alcohol on the bathroom floor when I took a shit and then light it up and watch it burn till if faded...

One day the fire got bigger than planned. With a shit smeared ass I got a towel to throw at the fire...the towel burned too...I shot water at the mess with the kitchen sink pistol...To cover up my debacle I threw the towel into the neighbors yard...a couple days later it ended up back in our house...it never came up...

But that's about fire...I have a history of breaking glass...

My first memory was of throwing rocks at the house behind our house...I wondered if I could hit a window from what was probably a good 40 yards...I hit it, it exploded, I ran to safety in front of our house...

Around the same Era of my life I threw a newspaper at some old people's window...I hated them...not sure why...though I never expected that window to bust...I ran when I threw it and puked in the back of my throat when I heard the shatter...When the cop pulled up to me and my friends my older brother Chris blamed it on some other douche bag...gave him his address and everything...

Then I threw a rock through a window at our own house...I guess I thought my accuracy sucked...but it didn't...I ran into the house saying "mom, mom, some kid through a rock at the house and ran through the alley to the street...he's gone..." WTF was she going to say...that I'm a liar? Naaaah...

In high school I beat up my brother Andrew...when my dad got home he threatened to beat me, so I ran into the woods...I found an old fire pit surrounded by beer bottles...I smashed them at a rock for a good 20 minutes till my brother found me...I call that "relief glass"...that episode landed me in therapy...therapy was a failure...

Ok, now I'm in college...I'm drunk and walking past a ground-level room of this guy I hate...reasons were good enough...so I punched his window in and pushed his stereo to the floor...when I went to my dorm the RA asked what happened...I said nothing...my hands were pouring blood...I got disciplinary probation and stitches...

Ha...later that same year I helped my friends beat up a TV with some metal pipes(you know your're out there Mark Tibbetts)...we couldn't get the desired affect, so I brushed them aside and drove my pipe straight into the TV screen...it exploded, leaving shards of glass embedded into my thumb...I told the Doc in the emergency room I fell...he saw my bullshit clear as day...

All right...I still have a problem...

Last year in an argument with Holly I blew my fuse and punched my rear-view mirror...it shattered and tore from the car ceiling...I really didn't think I hit it head on...guess I did...

A month later some guy scraped into my car just to get ahead of me at a stop sign down in Union City...he took off like a bat out of hell...little did he know...

I chased him till he tried to escape near Giants Stadium...when he got stuck at a light I ran to his car and punched the shit out of his passenger window...I think he crapped himself...for once the glass didn't break...when I cleared my head I took off knowing full well I went too far...he sat in his own puddle when I turned around and passed him...I hope he reads this blog...

That brings me to Holly's truck window...you see, I have a history with breaking glass...

Thank you so much for reading my blog and making my Caymus story so popular yesterday...keep coming back...keep sharing us with your friends...cheers...I know this picture is blurry, but I did not break this glass...

Caymus Escaped

2010-10-13T20:14:00.000-07:00

I will get to the title of this post in a minute...

Hello Caymus...he's here now and an integral part of our lives...I don't know if he knows this is his new home yet, but he has taken to following me around when I walk through the house...

I'm liking the idea of this dog growing on me...

Today was a day of three of us for the bulk of the afternoon...Caymus, me, and Jules...

The day didn't quite start off quiet or cute...

I promised the adventures of Caymus would make it into this blog...so Caymus made every effort for you to not be disappointed...in fact I only put a picture of Jules here to rest my blood pressure as I recount the details...

Aidan & Owen's bus pulled into the driveway...they opened the door to leave...my first day with my new dog and beautiful daughter was about to begin WHEN...

Caymus pulled a b-line out the door and down the street...

I chased and yelled CAYMUS! and he ran too...I walked...he stopped...I got close...he took off...

I'm not in shape...Caymus let me know how bad too...

To his credit he had business to take care of...his first stop was the front yard three houses down...to take a shit...

Mom and daughter are there to witness, as she points and yells "look mom."

awkward moment ensues with me, out of breath already, panting "sorry, I'll clean that up."

I guarantee the shit is still there...

Caymus unloads and moves on fast...he thinks I'm a joke...he won't even acknowledge my calls to him...he insults my "speed" with his speed...

I chase him around one house, yard and all, three times...then he does a 2 second 40yard dash, leaving me with a heart attack...

Enter beautiful Holly...ATTENTION: this is the explosive climax...(always a climax when Holly's around)

So she comes round with the truck...Caymus laughs at her beckons...She pulls up so I don't have to run anymore...I go to hop in, and she tears off before I get in...I feel like a rag doll...

I get out to call Caymus... he runs...

Caymus love watch stupid human be stupid...

So I jump in the car again...Holly takes off before I land...again...now I feel like Andy from fucking Raggedy-Ann and Andy...

I am so annoyed by the day that I jump out of the car and slam the door...

Shot Gun goes off...I mean the side door window explodes!!! Trust me...a $200 dollar hole in my wallet will burn my ass tomorrow...

blog post tomorrow with step by step instructions on how to replace side window for Dodge Dakota...photos included...

Here's the funniness of it all...Caymus was free...

His owner loved him very much, but under certain circumstances he couldn't keep him...He just wanted a good home for him...

He found our loving home...we were happy to find him...

Caymus is no longer free...he is $200 plus tax in frustration fees...

I wouldn't trade him for the world though...he's awesome and sweet...he's quiet...smooth and beautiful...he's Caymus the Bad-Ass, that made dumb human cough up stupidity and cash...FML and I love it!!!

Caymus is home...safe and sound...till the next time...

Caymus the Dog

2010-10-12T21:23:00.000-07:00

Meet Caymus...he's the new guy in town to our home...True Dat: we got a dog...

We are selling off the frogs, gecko, and snake(if you're interested let me know)...in trade of this black Lab in our lives...awesome...

awesome lingered in the night when Caymus and I walked under a black sky tonight...this is gonna be good, this is great, Caymus is quintessentially a good boy...he's good shit!

I am excited for the boys, as the adventures of Caymus begin...I'm excited because I got a new friend...

More on Caymus...it's destined...coming soon...we are growing...my life is a narrative...tell your friends about campbellonemillion soon...now Caymus rules...

We are building an amazon.com a-store...it will offer items from amazon.com that I pick like books, music, movies, and plenty more...I am soft opening with a small selection of delicious books....The store is growing daily...browse often...like it...get it...look for the link...

Walking With Children

2010-10-11T22:41:00.000-07:00

We descended stone stairs and walked through green to the river...the backs of my children...Juliana Skye slung to my chest...we went into a valley of water...

We took the day off from school as a day of freedom, and we walked freely in the day...we walked Hacklebarney State Park...it was much needed time in the woods for all of us...I needed to feel connected to the living world...I will seek more of that in our lives...

Walking with my boys was a deep prayer in the woods...walking with my daughter pressed to me is a holy chant...vespers...winter's beauty...

My little love clings to my chest and my heart...boys bouldering waterfalls...she and I walk tightly...

This pouch holds baby Juliana Skye...this pouch is a gorilla sack...Man jump rocks with baby girl...Man-Daddy.Man Mad...

I love that I hold this baby being with me where ever I go, and I always have three boys ahead of me...walking

I'm a dad, and I'm walking into me...

I have a great writing assignment coming up...A fall ride around Lake Hopatcong...a reflective piece about the change of seasons and life reflections, years end on it's way...I can not wait to ride...I believe Beautiful Holly and Juliana will be on that journey...

Beautiful Holly was not at Hacklebarny today...No mommy...Just dad walking...and watching his boys walk...

Wishing Beautiful Holly shared in this day...loving the valley air...the boys in the natural world...my mind set like mist...my Father mind aware of what's ahead...

My week alone with Juliana ends in two days...I need to concentrate on the mission of words...I was blessed with this time...my blessings rain down...

I took pears and potato chips, probably not enough formula, a book of poems I didn't read, diapers, lemonade...we were just so damn ready for the wild...crazies of a mad mad world gone madder...

My boys were boys, I jumped and climbed like daddy monkey with baby monkey girl...We rule earth today together...

The sun came down like pillars, like radiant light shafts...light fought through: giving us the day...this day was poured on my life like water on the head...

These back shots of them moving away from me constantly haunt me...I see them going and going, my boys just going...walking

Walking is a great bond...water wraps around the land...my heart canoes the waters of earth...I stir my boys through great water...I lead in the valley...

Resting by the river...a pear, some light, all the enchantment that truly does exist...God right in your hand as you bite it...resting is a bond...

I love fruit...I love the fruit of my Holly girl...I love this lush life..

My journey is the heart...human is empty...I search for heart...

The bridge I cross is above sky, and water is a mirror...the mirror is fluid...

The end of my journey, and the journey itself, is all Heaven consumed with fire...

This Babyness...my little love is the life of me...Children rule my world...I am Mad the Father...

Walking has given us the day and we took the day with our feet...our hearts took the day with our shoes...

My life is a menagerie of thoughts, feelings, hauntings, places...and the places we go we walk to go...
This is for my children...because we're all alive...

Fathering My First Two Boys and Beyond

2010-10-10T23:12:00.000-07:00

This picture was year ago. My life has changed, has been fed and nourished, grown...

My life as a father has flourished since then...but the bond between us has always been tight: it has only grown with the growth of our family.

As a father my life is focusing. It truly is the greatest gift. I don't care if you believe in God or not, or if you believe in nothing. Parenting, as I know it, is the greatest joy and the greatest mountain to climb.

My kids are a hell of a lot of fun and a true pack of pain in the asses. I love them with my whole being.

I've been a dad to these two guys through life, death, single-parenting, and life again. I've had big ups as a father and disappointments in myself.
There wasn't a thing in me that wanted Aidan and Owen to be sad over a thing when we it was just us.

I could truly laugh at some of the decisions I made as a father back when and I could truly cry if I hadn't moved on. I was out of my right mind for sure.

If I bought Aidan a Superhero at the mall and he wanted two...well he often got them both...I dressed Owen till he was too old...The list is long and shocking...

I like looking back at my life now and seeing where we have traveled in our lives...I like learning the right decisions to make regarding my children...Fathering is man's work...I've got plenty bricks to build...

This picture is a trail to the beach at the Outer Banks in North Carolina...They were misery on the walk...later in that day is the picture of Owen running
at the bottom of The Story of Owen in my blog archive...match the bathing suits...

During my single days in Vermont we took trips into nature daily...We often went to lakes and rivers...I love the water...I am deeply moved by the currents of nature...

After losing that sense to be wondered by things in the natural world for a while, I have become more aware of the pure blessing that this life and the energy of living truly is...What it means to be alive, and to give life, and provide for it is what it means to be a father, which is to grow into an ambassador of life and all things living and good...I love that life mimmicks the greatest poetry...

These little French fries and I have been through it, and I won't ever trade my life for anything...I write on for these boys...the boys I have loved, raised, messed up, nourished, dropped, farted on, and just plain gushed over since it began...

Fathering is the greatest subject I will never master...I want to be the greatest father...I love the Dad word...The word Dad is like a fist pump from above...I love that my family burst into a garden...

New life and new love pervaded my life when I moved back home to New Jersey...A girl came into my life, with her 13 year old son, then another smaller girl popped up too...Life has gotten clear again...I feel the wind now and know the currents of water...

I know life itself can not be trusted and has no obligation to us...I know I have an obligation to life...

Since Aidan was born my obligation has grown by 400%...So has my heart...I love loving my family...I give thanks for what has been blessed upon me...

If this wasn't fake space I would pass out water guns and yell fight...Please follow this blog by hitting the many follow buttons I have...and madly click the share buttons...We want fans in our lives...

This post is dedicated to the wonderful expansion of my family and my life.

Sunday Morning

2010-10-10T07:34:00.000-07:00

Sunday morning rises like mist in the mind...Sunday morning comes slow...Sunday morning rises like an ocean...Sunday is a mountain...

I describe this blog as the chronicle of the writing life, and often it is...yet often I stray...though when I stray it's still a blog of how this writer sees the world...

Sunday morning drops on your heart like syrup...Sunday comes in slow drops of sugared water...I walk in the solace of Sunday...

I lived in Vermont for almost a decade...Vermont is the Sunday of America...

New Jersey is the Sunday news paper...I drop in on the morning like slow light drops on a canopy of trees, invading the under-story of life...

Good Sunday writing could save the world...It's crazy I had five things to write about this morning and and Beautiful Holly said why don't you write about Sunday mornings...

So Sunday entered the mind, and I entered morning...and light rained down...

The mind is focussed on the intensity of seeing things...searches total freedom...my mind erects an unfinished system of knowledge that collapses upon itself...I spiral out into water and growth...

I have stories to cover, one later today, meetings with connects in public relations, print, graphic design, and book making world this week and next...I need this to congeal...my energy needs to wrap around my work like Sunday morning energy...

I'm looking forward to this entire Autumn season, till the last leaf drops, leaving our lives bare and naked...

I'm looking forward to Winter for the first time in a long time...I'm attracted to the heart of winter...the desperate absurdity of the season that energizes man to rule the seasons of his life...

Tonight I will visit poetry...an essay...something creative...tonight I will grab the ladle and stir my Sunday evening...

I'm ready to walk out my front door and walk in the sugar of life...I want to walk in the colorful light of the chill morning...

all things light surround my day...all the people I know are close to my heart...I crack open my rock of a heart and spill myself to the four corners of Earth...

I fly from what has no wings...fly to where there is no end of journey...soar on the wings of Sunday...my eyes resurrect the world...

Super Love

2010-10-07T18:55:00.000-07:00

She makes me soar...I take flight...I am all madness, all God when it comes to my love...Her body, her face, her breast, lips, legs, ahhhh her....She puts a fucking "S" on my chest...

I walk proud because I want more out of this world because she has made me more because I want more for her because my life is abundant because of her abundant love...

I soar...I fly to moon...I circle Earth...my flight is ecstasy...

This marriage is union in the great sky...are you kidding me...she raised me up from earthen soil, resurrected me from the dead, gave life to nothingness...she is my marriage of Heaven and Hell, no good no bad, no up no down, she is the death of God...with her God is useless...with her I am God...

And yes, as She, She who possesses all the beauty that makes my world, she whose curves are the curves of the world, my world, she, the power behind my "S" is all woman...

She reaches for the Apple, she tempts me, makes me monster, her words stir my beast...awaken my hell...

Her eyes drive me mad...make me killer, make me maniac, make me fuck the world, smash world to pieces...

I bugaboo...I crazy, I lose her body, I kill you...

She threaten me...she leave me...I hunt your family...

My girl is my altar...I sacrifice, give my blood, eat her bread, I nail myself to cross in name of her body, for drink of her nectar...

So I haven't blogged in a couple of days.....

Marriage is work...beautiful Holly and I sometimes lose it...life got in the way...this is the chronicle of writer, father, husband...husband go mad...beautiful Holly make me mad...

She's so beautiful her words sting like poison...like ivy she spread on my soul she make me sick in heart and soul...I love her...I go mad if I lose her...I am writer...my "S" is made of human blood....

So yes fellas out there reading and women too...I write the greatest things about my beautiful Holly girl...I love her so much, so it comes naturally...so easily I am MAN...beast of a man...for Her...

Yet we are normal like you...we fight...marriage is work...marriage is the greatest work of all...When worlds collide, galaxies dance, explosions happen...

So life did get in the way...and it wasn't fun...

I hate when my Holly drives her sword through my heart, yet I hate the monster that sword unleashes....

No bomb compare to the bomb I explode...

Listen up men...if you care for you woman...hold her tight...when she stings you with her poison, when she hands you the reddest apple, when she tempts you with the devils fight...Be A Man...

keep the bomb at bay...

Everything in your life will suffer, your career, your appetite, your heart, your children become collateral damage...when you and your love let poison seep in...

..

So when it comes blow to blow, word for word, spit for spit....

Be a fucking Man...quiet your heart and walk away...

I am a man of many many mistakes and if I relay anything in this blog tonight...let me say...slap that "S" right front and center of your big man chest and man up, walk away...

Woman is all we can hope for in this life...

Woman is our greatest gift...When God turns his indifferent eye...When Jesus seems like fiction, Buddha seems foreign, salvation antiquated...

She will wake you....she who threw stones will kiss you...you who could not contain yourself will be heeled by her hands, her heart, and her body...

She will clean your blood and pack your little monster back where it came from...

What she dug up from within the mud of your heart, she will just as easily lay back to rest...and guys out there you will look like a fool...you will feel like a fool...you will hurt for what venom you have spit from your mouth...

So be leery of yourself...contain yourself...and realize the marriage you create is work, a work of art...

Make sure when you wake in the morning it is her body next to yours...

You don't make love to her for nothing...you make art...you make family...you create what the world around you lacks...

deep inside her heart you plant your seed...deep inside her you are Superman...

She is the apple of your world...if you marry her...don't be a monster...she is the lush life of your world...her body is sanctity...Woman is holy...if you forget that principle, guys out there, then you lose yourself...

you violate all that you think you are...you become sewage...

I am human, so utterly human...I am man at his height and at his weakest...all at once...I love her beyond love...a love that kills all love...

Guys let me also say this....if you think you love your wife...you will never love her like I love mine...

I throw that challenge out there so that all women everywhere will be treated like flowers, like holy water, like beauty, like art, like ahhh...

the life of man is the life of an animal...the life of man without woman is no life at all...the life of man with love is eternity...

So if you want to live a life that is the greatest life of all...grab her hand and walk straight through life...into life...into heaven on earth.

Woman is truly all you can ask for guys...

Life has no mercy...

God has left us all for dead, so it seems I think...I am so unsure about that it's nuts...

I missed blogging, sleep, happiness, love, family, because I didn't take her hand enough when it was all that was needed...

I'm banking on tonight, that this blog will be enough to lead us to the swamp of the love...the mess we make of each other...

My wife is my life...my family is my life...this blog is so honest I should check myself sometimes...I give you my heart if you read this...I give you my truth that you make your life greater than mine...

I just have one thing to admit...it ate at me the whole time I wrote this blog...Superman is so cool, because his powers are insane...he isn't human...I am...I have nothing in common with him, other than his love for Lois...My favorite superhero is all human...all flawed...he is cloaked in all darkness...He is a bad ass...

The Family Jules

2010-10-05T08:07:00.000-07:00

I've called her Jules or The Family Jules, or Babiness...since she was born. Light shines on my face as my baby girl has peopled herself into my world and my dreams. She is the absolute apple of my eye. She is the wind of goodness blown into my life...

This week beautiful Holly has gone off to work for a short stint leaving Miss Juliana Skye Campbell and I alone to house-it-up and play Mr. Dad: freelance writer with smiling, crying, sleeping, eating, puking, pooping angel of a baby.

We talk sometimes, though the we is I, but she does laugh and smile and coo.

She has the features of a doll, and is quite ignorant of the power to move the mountain inside her father's heart.

She is the red herring in my life, she is an opal, a star flower, a poplar in full bloom.

Her perfect features, a wonderment in my eyes...she is truly of her mother's beauty, only Beautiful Holly could have created this magic. (actually I was involved also)

So excuse me if I burst out about this little bit of a person. She sleeps as I type fast, knowing her waking comes quick.

I have to evaluate myself everyday, I need to stay in line, I need to be the man Jules and Holly need me to be.

I need to create my world to resemble a the world I want my daughter to grow up in. Whatever dark beast remains in my heart needs to be bled through the heart.

Her eyes truly are the fetch of a treasure from the depths of the ocean blue....

I stole this baby from the sky, I took her from the clouds, I stole my girl from the earth and the sea...I am the happy thief with my baby curled up and huddled in my arms like a football, with my stiff-arm outstretched blocking all the bullshit in front of me, and running from the bullshit behind.

I need to get it right...If get one thing right in this life it needs to be this.

She is dreamy and she makes me sleepy...she has been poured by the vase of the holy waters of the world...she was handed directly to Holly and I from the angels...call me mad...it means nothing...

So I write and I write...I write for her and beautiful Holly and Tyler, Aidan and Owen...as I build my castle with broken bricks strengthened by the will of a family bond...

I think of the sky, as it offers the only freedom I want for this little love of mine to take flight among...

And for now I travel with her up on my shoulders through this journey, this life, this gift so big and so small...

I reach into the waters and feel the flow of all around me.

I search out that which need become whole again.

I call mother earth...I call to tree wind and rain...I call a thousand calls that all be well in her world...I carry her and carry her as far as I will go...

The Mad Blogger

2010-10-03T20:23:00.000-07:00

Life is a glasshouse and just as fragile. Life is like walking on cracked ice with nothing but a cold sick abyss waiting to swallow us up. Life is the cruelest joke of all, lending obstacles in our path for every step forward we think we've made. Every step gained can easily have caused the next crack, leading to a full collapse of the glasshouse you thought was your life.

Hope is truly easy to discard. Hope is an enormous weight. Hope requires action and prevention from the wrong words and wrong actions. Hope offers no guidance though, so walk the ice lightly.

But sunshine breaks through the dead-fall that my life sometimes threatens to become. Regardless of the cracks in the glass of my life, I choose life!

At one time I saw myself as a prophet of despair. And now, by no means am I the happy inspirational speaker offering shiny happy peace on earth, but I will tread on through muck and mud, and I will move mountains till I find the sea.

I would rather wrestle with the possibility of God for eternity that let blackness reign king. I'm not a child of God, but I am an advocate to make God make himself known. I kick blind-faith in the face.

If God won't show face, then I will search and find it where it lives and breathes. I know God is in my little boy, though he got whacked with a genetic disorder. I know God is in my heart, though it has been blackened a thousand times, I know God is out there but hides around every corner, behind every mountain, offering sunshine and a winter to match.

So what of my struggle with the world, my written word, and God. Why write this terrible prose?

Because I renounce fear to feel what is in me.
I renounce anger for love.
I renounce hatred for tolerance.
I renounce saying things and not doing them.
I renounce thinking this world is a piece of space-debris made for nothing.
I renounce being nothing.
I renounce the couch in favor of the journey.
I renounce silence! I am an angry man and I carry a metal headed meat tenderizer under my car seat, if you think I'm kidding look.
I got road rage for life in my blood and it boils through my fist through the wall.
But for the life and death of me I got a God coming anger's way to crush it's head.
What I have in me now is life, and the death that clouds me is fading fast.
I see light and I take it from the sky.

I received the most touching email from a grown man about my Tyler Clemente post. He opened up more than I expected to read. I write for him. I write for my children, that they take their pain and conquer it with a passion for life and breathing ahhhh breathing slowly enjoying their breathing gift.

When Aidan's mother died my life was a glass house, and it fell on his head. The anger of that possibility follows me like a dark shadow, so I write for him that I cast that cloud from my world, and far far away from his.

This is Noah. He's Aidan and Owen's first cousin. His mother, Jessica, was their mother's sister. She died six months after Amy of breast cancer too. I write for Noah.

I love his gigantic smile. I love how he calls me uncle Matt with a big hug. I love that he is in my life.

This next little guy is Gavin, Noah's little brother. He was four months old when his mom died. What the fuck! I write for him.

So may this glass house be made of glass no more?
May my world have pillars of stone. I write for that hope.

I want to give this life my whole heart that it may blanket these children with all goodness.

Their tears will always be my tears, I write that I may figure out how to give more generously, to be more loving, to be more selfless, and true, I smash my black heart to pieces for a nice red one pumping the thickest reddest blood imaginable.

GOD! if you truly run shit...keep the sun on my family, and shine it on beautiful Holly's face forever!

You are another one, God, that needs my tank pointed at you at all times.

You fool no one anymore God!

I call you out with a broken bottle in my hand. Wanna fight, cause I got plenty in me.

I want the world to take responsibility for it's actions. I want to take responsibility for my actions. I want rain to smash my face so I can WAKE UP! I write for a world in tears tonight headed down a shit-storm...The world is nice place...I just want to enjoy it while I'm here. If that's all you, readers, want too, then I'm with you.

I'm thinking I should change my description to chronicle of a mad blogger!

Till the next blog: Good night!

Tyler Clementi

2010-10-01T07:21:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I'm driving to Westfield to cover an apple festival during the afternoon, then I will drive to Summit to cover The American Red Cross Oktoberfest fundraising event.

Sounds nice...

I have not one ounce of doubt I will breath in the smell of baked apples and cinnamon, and later sneak a sip of beer at a festival I am covering for a nice news story.

Everything in me says tomorrow will be a good day. I have no reason not to be thankful that I will get paid to live it.

Now look at how the blood red the apples hang from the tree. Look at how blood red the sick air swirls in this Autumn storm. All the leaves turning one shade of blood to the next. Then falling like a person off a bridge.

But the leaf is already dead when it falls. The leaf is not conscious in flight, in flash-backs, and madness, and nightmares, racing to peace...

So you want to make a video of my roommate?

Fucking fag...the world's gonna see this one...it's gonna be awesome...

He'll probably cry to the Dean for a new roommate...baby.

He was a musician. He was another gay musician. Another gay artist. Can art be gay?

I don't really hate the students that filmed Tyler Clementi...they're just assholes seething in homophobia...in all reality they may not be seething in anything...It's acceptable everywhere to pick on gay people...Actually it's funny...some gay jokes are better than black jokes...

Whose death you want to joke about now? The Jews are too easy to pick on, but fuck it, let's tell a Jew joke too...I'm sure it worth the penny my breath will spend to tell it...

Sex is my favorite part of being alive sometimes...all energy converging to love in a climax of...aaahhhhhhhhh!

Sex between two men is disgusting...if you do it go jump off a bridge!

Why did he jump? Couldn't he just get over it? I guess if he couldn't live with who he really was then jumping was for the best. I wonder if his mother heard the smack of his body hit the water in her dream?

These words today fall like apples from trees, fall like sad flower petals, fall like leaves, and roll like dead rats to the sewer...These words well up like a sad flood...this fall season deserves no beauty...I hope this storm just knocks the rest of these leaves to the fucking ground...

If you ever told a gay joke raise your hand...

If you ever laughed out loud because someone told a gay joke raise your hand...

I just raised two...

What I write today repairs nothing...my words do not silence the smack of a body...as no words of a hyped up media coverage silenced a pistol whipping against a wooden fence years ago...a lot has changed, and some things didn't...

I will enjoy my day tomorrow, trust me...but someone won't...

I offer a poem below as my silence....

For The Living

Mental states are wrong.

Philosophies are wrong.

Mid-day rain falls.

There is no need for ears.

There is need to walk near rusty gutters.

There is need to look in deli windows and cry.

I do not fet wheelchairs and crutches.

I remove furniture from my room,

and sit onel dark today.

I am sick in the ankles from bereavement.

Today I pick cherry-blossoms

throw them in sewers.

I scream a the floor.

I do not have the energy for this.

Tonight I will not cry for autumn.

I will not drink the wine of sad grapes.

I am sick of night.

I am deluged with sorrow.

I weave teardrop necklaces.

I will not talk to night tonight.

Theology Overnight

2010-09-29T20:59:00.000-07:00

The title of this blog is theology, but I wanted to talk about space tonight. They are the same, and it makes no sense to think otherwise. God is energy so why argue about it.

So amazing that sex is energy and feels like God, yet there is emptiness in all, there is a space of nothingness between the heights of existence. We fly far less than we walk and think.

So why care how you express that love of energy, all leads back to the fact that God is energy, you are part of a web that shapes the consciousness of man for however long we get to express ourselves, until we are washed away in the fabric of energy, absorbed back into the fold, as the universe pushes us aside.

In a billion years they say we collide with the Andromeda Galaxy for a billion year pageantry in the sky, yet still relatively small in the big company of the universe. Good luck!

So what of it? any of it...fuck it

Why bother with a bullshit theology of fuck it...That doesn't yell, Hey check out how I expressed my allotted energy here, since I was born."

You can move energy in the fabric of how we exist. There's just no question about it...but the major-fabric of it can never be halted for you, or your death, just altered in it's course, all the while stepping us aside, hopefully re-using us again in the future: but till then there is great silence. What is the point of goodbye!

I could only imagine in a great way that the end of God and the end of Energy look much alike, much like a desert.

The world is craziest of all!

If you can only imagine the craziness, the mess, the mad light of streaking beauty, as humanity made this space-debris with it's time on earth, then you would be desperate to wake up! So wake up!

Wake up into what though? If the ocean of both energy and god will just sweep by us without thought, without mercy, what is the point? What is the temptation to exist?

My whole theology is structured on the idea that you either play in the Cosmic Canticle of Humanity for a little bit, a short song, and fly away, back to the wave that brought you, or to not exist at all and be washed away by the same wave.

It is a fight or flight theology. You leap or you sit. Your leap is yours though. The great religions draw great maps to God, but your jump is your jump. It's the clump of energy allotted you...Make peace with it and dance...

Learn to juggle for one thing. Write a poem. Canoe through class 4 rapids on a river once. Make a list and piss on my list.

This is about jumping, not just my flight. I know nothing of God, yet I reach and I reach, like you do...and I write.

The only thing you evade for yourself, to great peril, is to avoid energy...don't make a noise. Doing is more fun than not-doing: is all the theology you'll ever need crumpled on scrap-paper, shoved in your back pocket, to get up and sing.

Just move.

If in your mind you dread that the after-life is possibly nothingness, and you dread the sick joke then, that life seems to become: that all is absurdity, then why not at least make energy, like playing with play-dough for Christ's sake! Grab it and roll, mold shit up as you surf your life, for the sake of your life, sculpt the world.

Put your paint-brush to your life: is the new theology. Embrace the fervor of creation, of a life in constant conscious creation. God is energy. You are God. God is not dead.

Live in humility and enjoy...

Heroes in Our Lives

2010-09-29T08:54:00.000-07:00

Who are the heroes in your life? I throw the question out knowing full well the definition is endless and at times a bit fucked up, or I guess I should just say a little skewed.

Heroes come in so many shapes and sometimes heroes are just normal people that inspire us to become heroes.

I don't want to drive the point of inspiration into the ground but bare with me one more time.

I think it's safe to say many people in this country are still angered by 9/11, or at the very least this new world order of doom at any moment still lingering thickly in the air makes us feel vulnerable.

But what heroes came from that event? Anyone involved in the rescue effort, whether perished or alive are heroes for sure. Yes they were doing their jobs, the job they sighed up for, but you can quit your job the moment you feel it will take your life. So they are heroes having inspired artists to create, people to give, soldiers to fight etc...

That one was easy an easy example. But what about friends? This "guy" wants to build a mosque, a place of worship, where some terrible douche bags, that claim to be a part of his religion, attacked innocent people, and to us over here his religion seems weird anyway...so if he would only move his place of worship 5 or 6 blocks over, hmmm maybe even 4 blocks would be fine, then well, from there he can plan his next attack on us or pray or whatever they do. Really?

This man is an American that roots for the New York Giants and went to a prestigious American College and pays his fucking taxes. Pray away big guy. Don't get me wrong he is not my hero, in fact he is a landlord of an apartment in Union City NJ and a shitty one at that, but has one hero stood up and said this is nuts let him worship in that building. No, instead we have been fooled into thinking that an atrocity from 9 years ago that had nothing to do with him should prevent him from building a mosque. So should Christians stay out of the Holy Land or are these types of issues time sensitive with an expiration date? Shake his hand and help him haul the bricks he needs.

My idea of hero has always had a bit of a slant to it. I have admired artists above all else at times. I look at what Michelangelo did on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel and I am awed, moved in more ways than I can count. I read poems by Walt Whitman and I want to be just like him.

My heroes are often flawed. I love the fallen hero that gets back up, the one that can't break his drinking habit, but yet can't help himself from wrapping himself in cape and tights when shit goes down to save the day.
So sometimes the strangest characters in your life will surprise you the most in the ways in which they move you toward inspiration.

After all what are heroes for? Do we admire them? That's lazy shit isn't it. Heroes move the world. I need only pick an obvious example from history...Jesus influenced Gandhi, Gandhi influenced Martin Luther King Jr. and entire revolution worth all the flood gates of Hell freed the souls and minds of a certain people who were beat to shit for way too long. So heroes influence us to be better people.

Women get credited with causing much trouble between men, Helen of Troy caused nations to go to war, Juliet drove Romeo to his grave, and Beautiful Holly drove me to explode my shit on a couple of guys last year. But that is because we men are grunts.

The beauty of women have inspired more art, more good fights, more societal change, and have helped shaped the lives of our children that so many women are everyday heroes, as they continue to churn out inspiration like a factory.

Women have endured more hardships, slavery, rape, degradation, and you-name it-under-the-sun than any one race could ever claim.

I recently heard a journalist say the 1800's ended black slavery, the 1900's ended the idea of totalitarian rule, and the 2000's will be the century the world wakes up to it's treatment of women on a global scale. Respect women and you are a hero. One of them put you in this world.

My heroes list as such, and in no particular order, I admire my wife for the way she stands by me on everything, pushes me to be more than I ever dreamed, and for watching over my children with me. My father continues to be the rock in my life he has always been. At the brittle old age he lags at he still leaves his house 5-6 times a week to volunteer at house fires in poor neighborhoods for the Red Cross. The list of things he has done is long. My mom is a hero for taking a back seat in my family, yet running it all the while. Not one of my brothers, sister, or I wanted for anything, because my mom would have killed herself to please us.

Actually this is no thank you list, and I fear I may bore you. But you get my idea. Look for heroes if you're not one already. Be a hero to someone. And don't waste your time with it either, actually run to the chance to better someone else's life. Thank the nearest single mom, thank a cop, your dad, a priest, or the counter clerk that treated you with respect. Maybe it is just humanity. A little humanity goes a long way, and if it just takes a bit of humanity to inspire greatness, then those who possess is hold the key to being a hero. It's easy to be angry with a chip on your shoulder. It is work to treat people like they matter. For the sake of us all: work on it! I leave you with a quote from a poet and artist:

We are haunted till our humanity awakens us. -William Blake

Going up

2010-09-28T07:47:00.000-07:00

This is a retrospect of the last two and a half weeks of my writing life thus far; after all this blog is a chronicle of the writer's life, though it seems to get lost in dreams of my beautiful wife: whom I guess is no longer a mystery to this page.

I have written 12 local news articles for three different online news sources, 4 articles for ehow.com and livestrong.com, and have kept this blog going full steam ahead, which has peaked a interest beyond what I thought possible in this short time.

I continue today to send letters out to editors and find more work, more places to write.

So why update this blog in this way? Because more than anything this morning I want to tell you to do what you want. It is beyond cliche to say follow your dream in life. So I add some expletives and a revised addition: Get out of your funk, wake the fuck and be who you are, what you know you are, stop being what you think other people want you to be, and roll......to your destination with your name in shining lights. Ask yourself where you are going in life? Up, down, or nowhere? Somehow nowhere seems worse than down.

I'm going up. I'm seeing the whole world in a new way...up close and personal. Last month I would have cringed about going to an old people's home or a ribbon cutting ceremony for a new town building. Covering those stories though opened my eyes to sacrifice, humility, graciousness, and pride in making this life around us a better place than it was yesterday.

Writing about John Deere Toys or Baseball gloves for ehow and livestrong.com added to my resume/portfolio, but it also added to my bag of writing tools and personal perspective. I had to think like me the consumer, not me the writer, writing about shit I don't care about. I had to care about the people buying those things, so the article would hit the money.

And my family, well we're not rich yet at all, and I'm no perfect dad or husband, but Holly and I are closer, as we take this ride together. My biggest fan and critic of this blog is my best friend, my wife. When I start writing in the morning she will tell me with brutal honesty what she thinks. I don't always take a different course, but when I have it was worth it.

In seeing things differently, with an eye of humanity, I believe I am fully learning human. It is so easy to center my own thoughts and actions around a selfish pattern, but in breaking out of that mode of being, I am bending the iron bars that have kept me locked up inside Matthew David Campbell since, wow, a long time now, and I'm walking out of that cell and into your world, and it's such a great wonderful world to be walking into.

I now feel like I'm carrying my world on my shoulders, but it seems much lighter, not like a ton-weight, but like a big jolly world, with a fat smile on it's face: and I'm smiling too. I'm trying harder to be closer to the people in my life I should have been open to for so long. I'm a craftsman of the written word. I am so happy and proud to write that. I am beyond excited about the readership of this blog, and that you are with me on this journey. I am working hard to keep your interest, so I will venture often within myself and out into the world.

This morning my biggest concern is that everyone reading this blog is living your dream. I wasn't happy till stepped on a colorful balloon that advertised Joy Ride: Your Life is Waiting. I stepped out of my shoes and into my life saying up please!

So up is where I am headed. Today I want to share this poem below. I wrote it for my Holly girl and read it at our wedding. She gave me life, I give her the world.

Family Tree

Autumn birds fly like waves, like an ocean on a blue sky,

Bare trees like lichen…I’m driving to see you

and the boys, my girl in your belly, all of them ours…

Your belly rising like a mountain, like life your belly

Curves so lovely, and your curves are the curves of the world…

When you shake you shake my world, when you quake

I crack at the seam…when I talk I talk of love, when I talk

Of love I talk of you…when my speech and my hands freeze,

my feet encased in blocks of ice,

When my fire glows dim, I burn for you…

Driving like Jersey fish through the ocean of my life,

In a sea of cars, our lives come thundering like waves

To each other’s shore…I move Earth for you, lay water

At your feet, blow cinnamon in the air around you,

plant my foot in the ground…I love you with the shovel…

Bury my heart in dirt…I give you the tree…

This Feast

2010-09-27T05:54:00.000-07:00

The feast of this life lay before me. This feast immoral, banquet unlimited, I eat like mad. I yell to live in excess of life. Gorge on apples, on nectar, eat from the banquet, thanksgiving of Earth.

Pass the bread, I feast on my wife like mad madness, I drive deep and suck the sap dry, squeeze the fruit above my head and squeeze the last drop to tongue.

The world has no mercy, so in my hunger I show none back. Relentless creator of a merciless world gone mad, I eat to crumble your world.

It's 6am, beautiful Holly and the kids are in bed. I'm hungry for this time of day, when the tip of sun rises like the mad fruit of the world, when the first light dawns on your eyes, and the first bird sings, I hunger in wait for light.

Drink from the well of sugar, absurdity, tequila-Jesus-paralysis. At 6am I'm hungry for Holly's thighs. My enraptured woman of all my bliss, she the grail, she the fountain of no end.

Enjoy love, make life, live in full bloom, part the sea of nectar, dance with the seven winds, create an opal love of star flower and amethyst, move the earth of savory flesh, move in the perfumed darkness, body surfer, shake the primal rhythm.

Choose color, shun darkness, and push the abyss over itself, it has no influence, power deadened by a chosen life, a choice to run despite the nails on the ground, a choice to take flight despite the nails through your wrist and hole in your heart.

There is one grail, the sun of this morning I choose. My breath is the only prayer I need, my insatiable appetite for my wife, my endless hands to carry my children through fire. I walk in my yard this morning, my feet cold from from dew, the air thick and cold, winter in the nearness of days to come, and I burst with the light of a sun in rage.

I create my world, its shape the shape of my rage, my rage the light of the world, the sun, the face of beautiful Holly rising, rising and ruling my world. I dip my hands in cinnamon powder, cup her breast, and kill this half-life, make it new, make it whole.

Toast, roll in the leaves, roll in the sea, break the legs of your bed by shear force of joy. I can't wait for her, as I write this I wait for her, I make my coffee and wait for her, my whole life in wait for her, for her to come down the dark hallway of morning, clothes tight to the curves of my world. My wine I toast the life she gives, I toast the grail to her body, her lust, the wonders of this life, my children the energy of seed.

No doubt my girl will read this ask what the hell I wrote that for, why didn't you let me read it first, who cares, what hell was that....?

It's just me fucking the nothingness...it's me adding color to my morning, which is a cloudy drab, with air alive, an Autumn day in which I rose early to type to the world and could think of nothing but you, my family, the feast this life has lain before me...I didn't have much to say when I woke, but I felt so damn much I just spilled myself a big mess...A mess with stains I refuse to clean...The mess of a Chirst of fire, Messiah of a world in Hell

Inspiration

2010-09-25T07:48:00.000-07:00

Owen's story generated a lot of interest, and a lot of people sent the nicest messages, comments, support etc...Some people that read Owen's story called either the story or myself inspiring. This lead beautiful Holly to pose the question to me: Do I think I am inspiring?

I felt like a puddle of muddy water confronted with the idea. I said I think people find my story or the way I write inspiring, but I myself have done nothing. No absolutely not, I'm not inspiring.

Holly and I often discuss the mistakes we have both stumbled over as we were single parents, so I said we've discussed how I handled being a single parent. I love my children tremendously, but that is easy, it comes naturally. But I was not an inspiring person or parent. I have people to attest to the fact. Trust me.

I want to be inspiring though. Holly said, it's not about the past or what people think, just be inspiring: do inspiring things. So I write the story of my life the best way I know how. Most importantly I need to tend my wife's beautiful heart and my children too. Blending a family is harder than graduate school, it should require a degree. If I can get that right, be the father and husband I want to be, then all things inspiring will fall into place.

But that is the biggest challenge in front of me right now.

How do I make my family flow like water, like a waterfall that can feed all things below it, or the river that carries life everywhere it travels, and the ocean, the largest symbol of life we know, from space we seem entirely blue, which gives rise to the green life we love so much. So how do I do that?

People are so careless with each other that it is so easy to fail with anything in life that we do. The point I think is to take light footsteps, and make small splashes when we tread near the ones we love. I need to NOT slam the door when I am angry. I'm sure it just floods my home with terrible water.

I need to LOVE my wife when she is frustrated, and be patient with all my children equally. I'm working toward this, and every day this is all I want, to be a good father and provide for those closest to me. If I can do that, especially in this way, with these words, that enough people are interested in enough to read,
then I will have accomplished actual inspiration.

When my family is all play and imagination because I made them that way, then I will be on the right trail I need to be walking on. Right now I feel like I'm in the woods, can't see the trail, but I think I know where I dropped my compass.

That is not the worst place to start. At least I know there is a compass and a way I need to walk.

So how do I grab Holly's hand and run, like, hmmm, not the wind...but children again. I want to feel with Holly, and I often do, how I felt as a child in love.

Surely if I can do that, then I will no doubt make my children just dance to be alive. What is greater than watching your children dance at what they are good at, whether it is sports, dance, art, loving you, or just plain looking good.

Look at your child and dance with him or her, it's what you have in this moment, and it's not hard. That love, if you can keep it up, is the big challenge to keep alive.

So all the things people are saying to me make me want inspiration in the worst way for my family, just so we can burst it upon the world. I want love unleashed. I want to be the pit-bull, the watch-dog of love. I want love so mad that it won't seem real, but will be so real that it can't end.

I know I will get it right. I have to. I said at the start of this blog, I need to do this because we're all gonna die. So the time for me is now, to get it right, in stone, like a mason laboring for love. And then, though I married her, and only then will I truly have my wife in my heart. That is when I feel most like a superstar, when I know she loves me, because I loved her so much, that she couldn't help herself.

So my first target of love is my girl when she gets home from shopping with the kids. Then my next target is my children, then I'm aiming at the rest of my family, bothers, sister, parents, and anyone else that falls into the word family.

I want my love for the people in my life to be immortalized and set in stone. We are going to die, but in the mean time I can aim to freeze this love and all I have to offer the loves in my life, in time, so in the passing of it all, it can never be taken back.

The Fridge is Empty

2010-09-23T10:19:00.000-07:00

A couple of hours after Holly and I decided to roll the dice on this writing venture I received two phone calls offering two separate jobs in the education field. Both jobs offering a crappy, almost livable, wage, though offering some faint possibility of advancement.

Fuck! So I ate lunch thinking how I just decided to follow my dream and become a writer, and the safe road of guaranteed income has been been paved before me. 4 kids, a family of 6, 3 toads, a snake, and a gecko to feed. I wanted to puke.

Holly was frustrated by my unease. She said "I don't know what you're thinking about, I thought you wanted to be a writer? Those jobs are offering you shit!" So it was set in stone that morning, about three weeks ago, and the dice was cast.

Holly found me a free desk on some curb off craigslist, I got an hp notebook computer for $20 after rebate, and put together a resume, and two samples of writings. This is my shitty desk. I should say though, it serves me well; a lot better than the one I had before, which was no desk at all.

Now I run out of the house to cover local news stories, stop on the side of busy roads to capture an image with my low end camera I hope you might find interesting, dream of landing a Rolling Stone assignment interviewing some famous douche I could care less about, or one I actually like, write my article, tend this blog, and hope in the fire of it all it creates magic for both my family and I.

Last night I was brushing my teeth, and I realized I left the water running as I'm brushing. What a fucking waste. I pay a water bill. I walked into my living room, and the ceiling fan was on. Another waste. Not to mention the computer was on, and the TV was on and the kids weren't even paying attention to it. My bedroom fan was on too. And my kids hardly ever want to finish there dinner and always want a snack later, or "I'm full. What's for desert?" Are you kidding me? I got a million fuckin words to get down on paper, I'm hungry, and no time to eat. I need to stay stocked up on coffee, just to keep pace with this new writer's life of mine, and coffee costs money too. I feel like just another rat, another moron wasting money mindlessly without ever taking notice, and now I'm hyper aware of every penny flying out the window.

I wanted a change in my life, and now I'm scouring the ways I can save change. I'm watering juice down for the whole family, secretly of course, so I can can get two for one without waiting for Shop Rite to offer it. I'm doing 65 in a 55 on Rt 10, and I thought the gleam in the corner of my eye might be a quarter on the floor. I want a pool next year, and I swear I'm just looking for a pot to piss in. Did I really put that king size bed and flat screen TV on my credit card last month? 4 people at my last few news assignments asked me for my business cards. Those are cheap right?

So this is where I find myself. Trying to entertain, write news stories on a dead line, create articles I can sell to magazines, try to garner some money, someday, for my poetry, all to make a better life for my family. From where I stand right now I wouldn't change it for the world. My life is more interesting than it's ever been, and I have more energy than Columbia can provide in both cocaine and coffee. I'm lighting my world on fire, and hopefully, soon enough, the rest of the world too with the million words campbellonemillion needs to produce before the next million are due.

Can my words feed this family? If only I could cut myself open and feed them my organs till they do. I have to believe that this blog too is worth my time. I was going to mention yesterday that I almost received 1000 views on this blog, but interest in my children peaked that over 1200 by today.

This little love is worth more than anything I will ever write, yet I have to keep going so she can eat. After I post this I have to tend to her to keep beautiful Holly's sanity safe, then write two articles I covered last night and this morning, shove dinner down my throat and head out the door with kisses and half hugs, as I rush off to cover another story of a guy doing more for the world in one year than I've done my whole life.