Posts tagged as:

poetry

About/Contact

by johnford on March 20, 2008

A short history… of the site, not necessarily me.

Johnford.net started quite a few years ago as the now defunct radiosurfer.com. Radiosurfer was a portal patterned after the macsurfer.com site. But, instead of the being geared towards the Apple fan-boy’s, it was intensive. Essentially a links and commentary site highlighting the latest in the world of corporate and not so corporate broadcasting. Radiosurfer lasted a few years, but in the end, it was all just too much damn work for very little return. Other sites have popped up to take it’s place, including the excellent and industry site allaccess.com. Unfortunately, the niche wasn’t completely filled, and there really isn’t a ‘one stop’ portal supplying links to the other . Radiosurfer was pretty handy, but sorry, it’s gone.

About this time I got the bright idea of using my personal domain as a blog. Over the years, johnford.net swung from a site primarily about and media, to a singer-songwriter/americana music links and commentary site, and eventually becoming just my personal blog, with commentary, inane and often insane ramblings on whatever strikes my mind. The archives could go back quite a bit further than are currently listed, and there are thousands more postings on my old movable type blog. However, importing them all is just more damn trouble than it’s worth.

So what do you get here? Basically me. My thoughts, songs, , photography, etc… It’s a continuing work in progress to get things up and running again after almost a couple of years of letting the site flounder in the wings. Where will the site go next? God only knows. But thanks for stopping by and visiting. I do promise to be more vigilant in the future about keeping the site more up to date. Feel free to contact me by shooting me an email using the form below if you have any questions or just want to say hi!

Here’s some other places you can find me on the Net:

You can contact me using the form below:

 

cforms contact form by delicious:days

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I once loved the most beautiful woman….

by johnford on January 4, 2008

I have a story that always starts the same. The words form in my mind,
always in exact order, day after day. “I once loved the most beautiful
woman.” This is how the story begins and ends. As I know in my heart
it shall always end. Each day I stand on a cliff not knowing which way
the winds shall course. Shall they blow me from the edge into an abyss
of violent waves crashing on the jagged edges of the hungry immovable
rocks calling to me from below. Or shall their grip pull me back to
the flowered fields and warm glow of the sunlit gardens of my
cherished dreams. For I know that someday the story will find its
course, and I wait like a shivering child, filled with hope and dread
for the tides of time to run their course. And me, a lone sailor in a
tiny boat tossed about by a violent awaiting on an ever silent
God to calm the seas. Still, the story has only its two possible
endings: I shall either be telling it to my children yet unborn with
you by my side my love, as I see their faces aglow in anticipation of
the most wonderful tale of how we and they found our destiny. Or I
shall be sitting someday in a very dim bar, leaning my leathery elbows
on an ancient and tattered railing, rubbed smooth from countless years
of anguish, telling a tale to another man broken by his own , and
forming my parched lips to speak the words, “I want to tell you the
saddest, yet the most beautiful story you’ve ever heard.” Still, the
fact remains, I once loved the most . And always shall.

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I met

December 21, 2007

A woman in a bar. And she said. I don’t know if I should respect you or fear you. ‘If you fear me, you’ll sleep with me, if you respect me, you’ll fall in love with me, and that’s much more dangerous my dear.’

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sleep…

December 16, 2007

I can’t seem to get any tonight. I lay down and start to write poetry in my head. Over and over. It’s pretty damn pointless.
“The most beautiful paintings are those one dreams of while smoking a pipe in one’s bed but which one doesn’t make.”
I keep thinking of Van Gogh. “Lust for Life” has [...]

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a soar spot

December 12, 2007

Turkey vultures are riding thermals over the bar and grill next door.
Makes me wonder if they are sensing some sort of carrion or if they’ve
just fixed their attention to tonight’s specials.
I went over to the local music store and bought a couple of sets of
guitar strings. Living on the beach makes the strings go ‘bad’ [...]

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I love my world, I hate my world

December 12, 2007

Walking home today I saw an old Jamacian woman brushing her teeth in a styrofoam cup from 7-11 on the sidewalk, the perfect scene after having an overpriced lunch at Neiman Marcus with the blue-hairs and perfectly cropped gay men. “Write about your own time son.” I walked into my apartment only to hear “Crow [...]

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Tuesday morning

December 11, 2007

The surf is a little rough today as I peek out the window across the dirty road, but it’s still a gorgeous blue and turquoise. Below me the tourists, locals and homeless shuffle down the alcoves of this last little section of fort lauderdale beach hasn’t become the latest victim of the wrecking ball. Soon. [...]

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tell me about your dreams…

December 10, 2007

Last night I had a really crazy dream. I won’t even begin to go into it. It took place in the Keys I think. A beautiful blue and turquoise ocean. But it was so vivid and striking, that it woke me up at about 3am. I woke up just as I was being given some [...]

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Love

December 9, 2007

Love :noun,verb.
- Two objects trying to occupy the same space at the same time. (Also see motor vehicle accident)

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a season in hell

December 5, 2007

I am ripped and bleeding flesh on a rusty barbed-wire fence. There is no grace, there is no mercy. Only tattered carrion hungry for further decay. How could a heart, once so sweet, so full of tenderness, have become so vile. Corruption you are become my grace. There are no answers, there are no [...]

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partially stolen

December 4, 2007

there is nothing quite as disappointing in this world, than catching a fleeting glimpse of the way you think life should be.

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Busking for Flowers

December 3, 2007

I’m blowing a kiss
up 7th avenue
down the canyon
past the crossroads
over the bridge
across the curve
and busking for flowers
for you
I’m taking a picture
of my shadow
here in the battle
the taxi cabs rattle
herding the cattle
still I stand as an island
busking for flowers
for you
taste the aroma
deep in the coma
diesel and daises
driving me crazy
caffeine and nicotine
my best antihistamine
while busking for flowers
for [...]

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