OckerJoe's New Writeups

Three things a man needed: faith, practice, and luck (idea)

2006-06-22T01:14:23Z

He was childless
but his old skin felt like family.
Twice a week at the track,
p o n i e s lined up,
he had a system;
and he'd slap the rolled up
as he cheered for ole number 4.

Then one day he told me,
kid, I've been around a while
and I know how things work,
the track is life
and there are only three things we need:
we need faith,
we need practice,
and we need luck,
and I suppose it made sense to him,
he was a winner,
but I knew it isn't the same for every horse.

And every time I looked around,
I'd see the torn tickets
and the gloomy desolation of faces who lost,
the old men in brown coats,
who snuck off to the track,
despite their wife.
The men who went out every week
to lose what…

missed connections (idea)

2005-10-10T07:41:23Z

Of cliches, the one of two boats passing each other at night is perhaps my favorite. In our city scape rushes of busy nine to five, of hurried life our own world don't bother me because I'm short on time and on a mission, how often must one pass, without knowing, the possiblity of magic?

But our humanity has not been lost. There are moments when even the most hurried among us have the sensation of slow motion at the smile of a stranger. There are moments when even the most cynical among us spend the rest of their d a y wondering what could have happened if only. If only I said something. If only I said something else. If only I had asked for... if only.

That smile is a missed connection. That if only is a missed connection. That haunting of woulda coulda shoulda, that's a…

Capoeira (place)

2005-07-17T19:12:47Z

saturday morning on the grass a circle of white, and the voice calls out: agora sim que matarom meu Besouro
and I am at the foot of the berimbau crouched like a frog: depois de morte Besourinho cordao de ouro
we shake hands and begin dancing: agora sim que matarom meu Besouro
with hands and feet we kiss the ground, music guiding us: depois de morte Besourinho cordao de ouro
ropa!: como e meu nome
and we smile and laugh around the world,: e Besouro
paying homage to our teachers: como e meu nome
and each other: cordao de ouro
for this game we play

October 25, 2004 (thing)

2004-10-25T21:17:41Z

Cooked lasagna on Saturday, good ole
spinach filled lasagna.

I've been eating it and sharing

it, and two pieces remain.

Rather, tw o pieces remained.

You may not know this, but lasagna takes

many many minutes to re heat.

And I was passing the time splendidly, reading

some St. Augustine, ignoring my anticipation,

and many many minutes later I check my lasagna-

perfect, warm throughout.

I closed the oven door and I saw it happen, like slow motion

I tried to stop it,

but my lasagna fell.

It fell on the floor, splattered sauce everywhere

and my heart sunk.

October 8, 2003 (idea)

2003-10-08T20:56:46Z

10.8.03
14.00
Bjork Big Time Sensuality LP
"Do you have a minute for Greenpeace?" they ask me, yes, I do, I have both a minute and money in my wallet, but I have not the desire to stop and talk to you, though I appreciate your efforts.
Is that wrong of me?
Am I supposed to feel guilty because I recognize the goodness of one's efforts but seek neither to emulate or support them? Am I not allowed to do my own thing, on my own time?
Since I was 12 she has been telling me to volunteer.
I don't want to volunteer.
Volunteering is great. It is rewarding, it makes people happy and improves the world. My time is the most precious thing I have, and sharing it makes the world a better place.
I know.
I just don't want to do it.
Why?
Because I am a selfish, lazy punk of a kid.
I've volunteered in the past. I'll probably volunteer again in the future.
But now...…

Dazzler (person)

2003-05-19T18:48:50Z

In all of comicdom, it is Dazzler, and Dazzler alone who wields the perfect combination of super-powers, personality, and sheer star power that so many strive for. Be she clad in a white sequin jump suit donning a full head of long, luscious red hair, or dressed for war while sporting a freshly manicured bob cut, Dazzler was, and always will be, the quintessential superhero superstar.

Humble Beginnings

Alison Blaire started off life like so many of us, she was raised in a strict, one parent household where fantasies were sometimes the only things that made life worth living. While her father tried to instill society's ideals of the power of education and a steady job, Alison was dreaming of being a rock star. Her father tried to disabuse her best he could from her foolish dreams, but she persisted, like all true heroes do.

Aliso…