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Showing posts from March, 1996

Motel #2, Or a Good Cheap Motel Psalm

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20. Mar. 1996 By Alex Nuttall - Bio being so mixed up does not pay the rent, nor does it bring good food to the stomach or the brain. How then can it bring liberation to the heart? With illness coming one can passionately plea for God. Gideons’ Bible is in every motel / hotel room. but i will tell you that i do not get my prayers answered. i ask for stupid things that i do not believe in. the language is non-communicative. one is only making noise. “Motel #2“ Alex Nuttall - 20. Mar. 1996 Description: Poetry by Alex Nuttall, title: Motel #2, Original Date: 19960320 – © Alex Nuttall / OgFOMK ArTS 1996 – 2017 – Retro-published 20170904. Another hotel poem. This time getting more spiritual. Eventually letting go of the idea that there has to be an answer. Perhaps action is the answer. Just as the actions of the Gideon who took the labor of the press and distributed throughout hotel rooms. #AlexNuttall #OgFOMK #Poetry #God #Bible #Gideon

Motel #1

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19. Mar. 1996 By Alex Nuttall - Bio dehydrated drunk hot motel arid nest masturbate change the channel masturbate read a book page masturbate do the time of several awakened hours waiting for the morning to throw you out of there. Description: Poetry by Alex Nuttall, title: Motel #1, Original Date: 19960319 – © Alex Nuttall / OgFOMK ArTS 1996 – 2017 – Retro-published 20170904. At various points in young adult life and then into middle age one has to stay in hotels or motels. For work one stays in hotels alone or with other people who are working and living the lonely life of chasing money. The writer deals with the carnal knowledge of having a penis, time and downtime and not knowing what to do with it. So he writes about it. #AlexNuttall #OgFOMK #Poetry #Motel #Life #Travel https://ogfomk.blogspot.com/1996/03/motel-1.html Simple Post: “Motel #1“ Alex Nuttall - 19. Mar. 1996 – #AlexNuttall #OgFOMK #Poetry #Motel #Life #Travel

Tri Loka

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19. Mar. 1996 By Alex Nuttall - Bio Eka: Over the river and through the woods With difficult breathing-- Difficult breathing, Sloshy snow and hail and rain With difficult breathing-- Difficult breathing, Head throbs heat bacteria move, With difficult breathing Difficult breathing, I cannot write anymore-- Cannot write-- Cannot breath-- This pencil moves too slow; Dva: It’s okay, Take your time, Sasha, Your way is slow, Your method is cumbersome, You can’t spell and You can’t fuck! So take your time—you! It’s not your style, But some things are—sometimes, You will get there if you Are faithful, not to them, but your self, In the end, only you exist... Tri: I say to you O lonely one, Only you exist and they are but tumbleweeds, Your feet are solidly placed on the ground And the ground opens up and swallows you whole, So what is left, you or not? If you miss yourself, You will get a headache, With difficult breathing, Diff