simmsbauer-blog

[simmsbauer-blog]

Don’t Try, He Said

Bukowski famously told aspiring writers, “Don’t try.” He even put it on his tombstone. The punchline was that some people actually believed him.

“Don’t try,” he said. But no one ever stayed drunk that way.

Following his death on March 9, 1994, Charles Bulowski’s gravestone read: “Don’t Try”. It’s a  phrase he used in one of his poems, a phrase he’d used advising aspiring writers and poets about inspiration and creativity.

Bukowski explained the idea in a 1963 letter to John William Corrington, expanding on the terrible advice contained…

[simmsbauer-blog]

7th Street Ghosts / No. 1 (at Buffalo, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/BukVfQ0B4TP/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=17jubw1y2k0oh

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Variations of the Oncoming Storm /sb (at Buffalo, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/BuRiwUhh-v0/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=m8k0ibseoxq8

[simmsbauer-blog]

Last night, the freezing rain, ice coating roads, cars, and blurred, splintered stop lights.  And always some guy, that guy in a little car who is impervious to icy  roads only because he believes unto be so— tailgating, headlights blinding, blaring, blazing out from all your mirrors, until he finally whips around, tires spinning until squealing until launching forward into the dark between the raindrops /sb (at Buffalo, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/BuKsy_wBX0k/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1012nbhbnfj5i

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An unexpected lunch meeting, the napkin torn in two to last, They hadn't expected us either.  (at Buffalo, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/BuFcytFDnqc/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=4pjnvrh8x8pk

[simmsbauer-blog]

The ghost in the mirror, finds the way through walls, Slammed doors that won't open, for locks without keys, to climb out of this world into that reflected  by the paths closed off, your key spins the cylinder, but nothing connects, the doors stuck closed, frames swollen, fattened, trapped by their sloth the way is gone, the walls have crumbled around Your reflection's path, each door a fading echo,  Holding back the world outside, to build its mirrored maze, Open doors locked against the path beyond, and left to haunt  forgetting the way through walls When doors had shifted, called and swallowed whole through porous walls the repeated call, a whispered greeting, The knocking, banging, begging, fading path to follow,  lost in shade and speckled mirrors, The locks are open, the doors unlatched,  but the way forgotten,  the ghost left to wander it's way through walls when doors are lost,  its mirror's shadow fades... /sb (at Buffalo, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/BtthcKjhSmK/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=l974qmdg5355

[simmsbauer-blog]

Call it Untitled

I haven’t been very productive. Call it the holidays; the push and crush and overwhelming, emotionally suffocating socializing that comes along with being a real person with friends and family and responsibilities. Or call it a relapse; the twenty-six days lost to six drinks, or the forty-two days before that I lost to three drinks, and the days to recover , to try and remember what was in those…

[simmsbauer-blog]

The cat assured me the old Dodge would run just fine. The steel was strong under that brittle snow, the sunlight glare blinding to the beauty underneath. It needed some light bodywork, that was all, but didn't we all..... I'm not sure I cared for his salesmanship, and told him I'd have to sleep on it, and maybe an overcast day tomorrow might open my eyes to what that junkyard cat called Beautiful /sb (at Buffalo, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/BtT26H9n1oB/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1njb44diy4ysx

[simmsbauer-blog]

This cat assured me, the old Dodge ran just fine, It was strong steel  under that brittle snow, the sunlight's glare blinding me to what sat beneath.  All it needed, he said, was some light bodywork but didn't we all..... I wasn't sure I cared for his salesmanship and told him I'd have to sleep on it Maybe tomorrow’s overcast mood would let me look  with more honest eyes and see the beauty this junkyard cat tried to show me /sb (at Buffalo, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/BrJGptpH90p/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=br2iavrwwhhs

[simmsbauer-blog]

Dylan Moran // People will kill you over time, and how they'll kill you is with tiny, harmless phrases, like "be realistic." #Repost @__nitch (@get_repost) #simmsbauer #dylanmoran #berealistic #bereal #killingyouslowly https://www.instagram.com/p/BpQgMPIgkHX/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=f61wwq309ngb

[simmsbauer-blog]

Moving Forward While Writing In Reverse

I took a step back, went a moment back in the story. And realized this wasn’t the beginning at all either. I stepped back and back and back....

I’ve been working, and working through things, finding my way through some ideas and stories, but its been the long way around. With all that and more and keeping clear, some things fall away. Not that theyre unimportant but just less so at the moment.

I started writing this poem the other day, but a few lines I realized I was writing the end, it was the last part I had imagined.

So I took a step…

[simmsbauer-blog]

And would you even know how to save a life, she asked, but was turned back toward the inferno of lights  and their siren call  to the swaying drunken dead  buried alive before us.  And I could never answer, And she could never explain, And we could never know, as the erupting sounds that destroyed our small world, drowned out that answer and left us to perish,  each alone  In the crowd. —simms bauer / 'how to save a life' / / / / / #poetry #poem #poet #instapoet #poetsofig #poetsofinstagram #poetrycommunity #poetscommunity #writers #writersofinstagram #writersofig #buffalopoet #buffalopoets #buffalopoetry #buffalony #simmscity #simmsbauer (at Buffalo, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/Boc6wDqgE69/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=18t47gt11sopp

[simmsbauer-blog]

[simmsbauer-blog]

“i can do this i can do this i hate myself why am i like this i can do this just go and do it i can’t do this i hate myself”

— t.m.

[simmsbauer-blog]

“Get comfortable with being alone. It will empower you.”

—

[simmsbauer-blog]

The stranger at the top of the stairs  looks down through the haze and stars, blinded by the color of the walls, the stairs, the ceiling. He does not rememer how to step down, his body forgetting its lifetime of movements practiced and rehearsed for moments outside of itself. He does not— as the people ahead and below  pose and dance and prop themselves  into awkward shapes confusing questions he hasn't yet researched the answer to —know how to descend, his mind misunderstanding what was expected of him.  He did not prepare for this, had only considered conversation, knew his lines  and was confident he could fool them all into believing he was still alive.  But this was not supposed to happen.  He had not been warned, or allowed to prepare, mimicking the faces, expressions, poses, of those before him. The stranger at the top of the stairs looks down, he feels the press  of real people behind him, and knows there is no way  but forward.  / / / / / // / #poetry #poem #poet #instapoet #poetsofig #poetsofinstagram #poetrycommunity #poetscommunity #writers #writersofinstagram #writersofig #buffalopoet #buffalopoets #buffalopoetry #buffalony #simmscity #simmsbauer // / / manipulated from the original photo by steve halama (at Buffalo, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/BoE9sZiAS-_/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=j0unhwspsanv

[simmsbauer-blog]

Checking the news like… Painted with my chunky inker and charcoal smudge brushes from my Comics #MaxPacks set of #Procreate brushes. #procreatebrushes #illustration #painting #art #character #editorial #drawing #fire #heat #twitter #sketch #sketchbook #concept #character #comics #comicsmaxpack #visdev #phone https://www.instagram.com/p/BnblavVhTTy/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1gwfyr5693x5w