MUHS College Experience: Post #3

JP Geygan goes to college. This was our conversation.

Geygan: DUDE
Geygan: i went to college
Me: haha
Geygan: and it rocked
Geygan: there was a girl in my room!
Me: any good stories?
Geygan: thats it
Geygan: i'd put it up if i were you

Thank you JP for this exclusive story.

MUHS College Experience: Post #2

Ah, yes. And how can we forget the stealing of campus property. Kudos goes to the stoic Jason Carr for this wonderful gem. He told me this epic story while briefly stopping at my house to grab a goody bag that my mother put together for his college dorm (long story, don’t ask).

“For one of our cycling trips we got to stay in the college campus dorms, which to this day I will say were the nicest dorms I have EVER seen. So, we were there along with some kids from New Jersey. Man, New Jersey kids are freakin’ crazy. I mean, we were watching the World Cup and one of them runs into the room with a firework and just sets it on the table and then lights it. There had to be at least thirty people on various couches and seats in that room! Everyone just scatters and gets behind cover while a few still watch the fuse in the distance as it slowly burns away. Then, of course, nothing happens because he took out the explosive in the firework, but still, crazy. So, then, we were walking around on the campus and we saw a golf cart near this fence. It just happened to be unlocked, so we assumed it was for our use. We jacked the thing and started joy riding around. We got back, then the Jersey kids showed up and it was their turn with the cart. They get back a few hours later and the thing is clearly in shitty condition. They tell us they took it down hills, through woods, and chased a deer with it. We examined the steering wheel and it had somehow been damaged in a way that we still don’t understand.

The next day, we go out to grab the golf cart and this time it was chained to the fence. Total bummer. But then the next day, ah paradise, it was once again unchained. We just get the thing started when the Jersey kids came by. We all piled in with the intent of going to a fair that was nearby, but too far to walk. So, we had like eight guys jammed into a six seat golf cart. We decided that once we got to the fair we would be absolute dicks, park it in an actual parking spot, and even pay for parking. We were just driving up a main campus street and then a little while later, someone in the back yelled “HEY, LOOK!!”. We all turn behind us and there is a very large, black security guard hauling ass towards us. The cart just stopped. We abandoned that thing and scattered in all different directions. I was laughing my ass off the entire time I was running away from the guy. We met back up and started playing volleyball and we decided that we had been there for at least an hour. Later on we found out there was this kid who was supposed to be watching it. That kid eventually came by and was talking shit like, “There were these punk kids who stole the golf cart, but I showed them.”

Yeah … the next day the golf cart was double chained.”

MUHS College Experience: Post #1

So, my first story. Here it is for you all to read and hopefully enjoy. I kept the last name of the individual involved private so as not to incriminate anyone.

I received this story at approximately 3:00 p.m. on the afternoon of the 27^th of August from none other than the honorable Thomas Shea. The story appears in essentially the same way it was sent to me … over AIM of course.

“So, Andrew comes back from a party that was held on … like … 15^th and Kilbourn last night. He goes back to his dorm in O’Donnell and climbs up onto his top bunk. Now, this bunk has to be at least seven feet of the ground, right? During the night, he starts making a shitload of noise, banging on the ceiling and such. Then he somehow falls off the top bunk, barely missing the table in his room. He proceeds to crawl into the bathroom where he summarily passes out. His roommate, Mossy, upon seeing Andrew in the bathroom responded by saying, “Fuck that, he is in a good place, so whatever.” Andrew then woke up in the middle of the night and stumbles around for a while, somehow exiting the dorm room and entering another. He finds an empty bed, and, thinking it was his, he climbs into the bed and goes to sleep. He finally wakes up the next morning and realizes he is NOT in his own bed and leaves, going back to his own room where he then tells me this story.”

We’ve been in college how long and we already have drinking stories! This can’t be good. But hell, that’s my own personal commentary on things. Have fun and be safe guys.

My New Project

Well, for those who haven't seen my hoard of messages, I am going to be collecting and writing the college stories of all you fine MUHS gentlemen. I don't know when I'm going to get my first story, but hell, who cares. Just IM me or send it to my email jplindsey@gmail.com. It will be a way to stay in touch, laugh with eachother, and see what others are up to now that they are in college. I don't care if it's funny, amusing, crazy, or depressing. I want 'em. I'll revise, write, and attribute the stories to those that told me them (unless you wish to remain unnamed). Talk to you guys later. Have fun and enjoy college.

peace....

Moments

oh yeah, feeling good after giving blood for the first time

Moments.
Nothing but points
In infinite time.
But there’s
Still a distinction.
Love the moments past,
Live the moments present,
Fight for moments future.

Mother Jones
Had it right
When she said
“Pray for the dead,
Fight like hell for the living.”
This life is all we got,
Maybe something in store
Beyond our perception.
But we just don’t know.
So live life as this moment
Was your last moment passing.

No need
To waste all your time
Doing senseless things.
Spend your time with someone else.
Find the love of your life.

Don’t give up.
Don’t give up.
Don’t give up.

It sounds so easy,
And we know that ain’t the way
That life turned out to be.
Bounce with the falls
Like Cool Hand Luke
As he stood after every blow
You must stand
For the world to see.

Life isn’t always pretty
But you can always make it beautiful.
Laugh and cry
You might die a little
But your spark ignites a light
That starts the forest fire.

Keep throwin’ that ball
Against the wall
And catching it
In your glove.
Whistle to the tune
Of happiness and
Perseverance.

Don’t give up.
Don’t give up.
Don’t give up.

Moments.
Nothing but points
In infinite time.
But hey! There’s
Still a distinction.
Love the moments past,
Live the moments present,
Fight for moments future.

Electric Stars

this one is for Teo and Maria

Electric stars
taking shapes in the sky
follow them and
connect the dots
look far enough
and you will see me.

Worlds apart
But the sky makes us one.
the electric stars
charged and shining
light up the skies
and let me see your eyes

soul to soul
we are brought together
under one infinite sky
the memories not forgotten
I can feel you
As though you were next to me

A hare passes below my window
In the dark of night
Illuminated by the stars shining bright
Another tear falls
For the fight you must continue
Without my guiding light.

Yet I know you will persevere
Because you remember
The electric stars
That we both once sat under
Laughing and crying together

King's Castle

When I was in high school, I began to think that I was king of the world. Interestingly, this phenomenon is not at all uncommon. Not to say that this might not occur to you at an earlier age, but the fact of the matter is that as you are given more privileges, you feel that you can do as you please. Of course, there are countless exceptions to this rule, and I am not contending that this is a standard by any means. Now, as you get along in high school, senior year eventually rolls around. By this time, the senior class is king. Top of the social hierarchy. This fact is indisputable. Obviously, what you do with your kingship is your business and the way that you rule your subjects is inherently correlated with that of how much respect you hold among your subjects. But there is always that curveball. That one thing that just completely turns your head. And I’m not referring to some girl, although they too have a similar effect on males. No. What I’m talking about is something entirely different. A little unorthodox to some degree, but for lack of a better phrase, please, my loyal subjects, listen to this proclamation.

First off, don’t be getting the thought into your heads that I am some religious fanatic. I just believe that things do happen for curious reasons. And it isn’t until you take a little look at them do the experiences mean anything at all.

So as I was saying, that one thing that turns your head can be just about anything. It can be small. It can be large. Either way, it holds the same degree of significance in life. Maybe it’s just a little something to be learned about humanity.

Now, my subjects, you may have heard about the two week service project that all seniors partake in. Undoubtedly a fantastic experience. You just go out and learn about society. A chance to walk in someone else’s shoes for two weeks and really figure out how the world works. Ahh, yes. You may ask, what are the means of transportation to the service project? By car of course! Unless you are like me and you sadly do not have car. For the sake of the story, I reveal to you the fact that I had to ride my bike. Clearly, the site was close enough for this to be economically (i.e. how much sleep I conserve) and physically achieved. There was this one hill that was absolutely deadly on your quads. And this was for two weeks! To the site and back! Now, I wasn’t riding in the most fantastic neighborhood. It is predominantly Latino and the poverty isn’t as bad as it could be, but some stuff still goes down from time to time.

My subjects may not know this, but riding bicycles on the sidewalk is actually illegal. You are supposed to be on the street. However, with the crappy condition that the Milwaukee streets are in and with the crazy drivers, it’s significantly safer on the sidewalk. As I was leaving my service site, on my bike, I saw a man walking towards me on the sidewalk. The man was wearing a plaid shirt and had fairly frayed jeans, but his hair looked washed and combed over to his right side. He had a baby carriage that he was using to carry grocery bags filled with stuff and was taking up most of the sidewalk. Enough of the sidewalk that I would have crashed had I continued. My first impression was that he was a homeless guy walking around picking up garbage and putting it into his bags. I cursed at myself because now I had to move over onto the grass and try to jump the curb to the other side of the street. I looked over my shoulder and a car was coming down the street. And, of course, I had to stay where I was or I would have to face the risk of getting hit by a purple minivan. By this time, the guy on the sidewalk had caught up to where I was stuck on the grass. He smiled one of the biggest smiles I had seen in a while and he said to me, “Thank you, brother, for moving over. I would have moved over for you first, but you beat me to it. Bless you and have a good day”. All I could do was force a laugh and mumble, “No problem”.

Now, like I said, I’m not a religious fanatic. But, hey, it feels pretty good to be recognized for doing a good deed, no matter what religion. Then I got to thinking, I was moving over instinctually. He was in my way. I didn’t belong on the sidewalk. Homeless people scare me. A combination of these things forced me to the grass. None of which I can truthfully say I take pride in. I mean, the guy misinterpreted my actions as though I was doing something spectacular when, in fact, I was violating my own moral code. Trust me. I am all for the advancement of all races, genders, etc. I am what you would call a leftie, or, as labeled by the Left, a progressive. I fight societal injustices and stereotypes with every ounce of energy I have within me. I learned that this occurs under one condition. Only when it comes to argumentation and debate amongst my peers. Outside of that, I realized, I was a hypocrite. I reflected on this the entire bike ride home. The twenty minutes it took to get home seemed to take a split second. In retrospect, riding home while reflecting on your moral character is not the safest thing to do in the world. I distinctly remember cutting across a busy street without really looking at all. But, perhaps, this was the head turner that I needed. A little humility never hurt the king. If anything, it emboldened him. In turn, his subjects could look to a king of honor and integrity. The kingdom, now strengthened, could prepare for future attacks outside of the well fortified castle.

Wicker Chair

It’s been so long since I’ve written to you.
My hands have been much too frozen.
Cold and clammy, they can’t hold
My pencil to the blank white paper.

And now I finally have the time
To warm my hands over the raging fire
In my brick fireplace.
I’m being careful
So as not to burn myself
In the hot ashes.

As I sit in the wicker rocking chair,
I hear your laugh and see your face in the flames.
The logs crumble as I remember your tears.
And the sparks pop as I reminisce about you.

A lover’s story played out
In the most stereotypical way.
The metaphors and symbols
Are so obvious that it’s almost pointless to listen.
But the story is undeniably universal.

The room is warmly lit, casting shadows
As the darkness slowly encroaches.
And all I’m left with are fleeting memories,
Coming and going with the crackle of the fire.

Silence is deadly and makes things worse.
Pushed play on the CD player to try to forget.
Yet, everything reminds me of you.
I can only fall into my wicker chair and weep
Like a little child at his first day of school.

As the fire dims and dies,
I slowly slip into a deep sleep.
And there you are again.
You are my waking thoughts
And unconscious desires.

Talk With God

So I was sitting there
On a green park bench,
When suddenly
A voice called out from above.
It said,
“This is God.
Your time has come.
I grant you three last requests
Before you pass on.”

I asked the voice,
“Why only three?”
The voice replied,
“Because that’s the way it has to be”.
“That don’t cut it for me.”
“Boy, you don’t have a choice.”
And I said,
“Alright, let’s roll before I am dead.”

My oh my!
How I remember that day.
The birds chirped in the light blue sky.
Three chances to fix my life
And destroy the strife
That plagues the world.

The voice said,
“Well, what do you think?”
“I want my love to be happy for eternity.
I want my little brother to live in infamy.”
“And the last?”
“The last, reveal yourself to me.”
The voice said,
“Wake up you bum,
Other people want to sit here too.”

I opened my eyes.
The sunlight had warmed my skin.
All around I saw beauty,
In the world
And the things I had done.

I sat up and a man sat down next to me.
He said,
“How are you?
My name is Frank.”
I replied,
“My name is James.”
He said,
“I know”
“How did you know my name?”
“It’s on your shirt.”
I looked down and there it was.
A blue pin name tag,
Affixed to my pocket.

We chatted a while
And I looked at my watch.
Half past twelve,
Time to get going.
I said my goodbyes and he said,
“See you soon.”
I walked into the street.
Lo and behold,
A fish truck ran a red light.
My body flew into the intersection
And my soul was projected into the sky.

So I was sitting there
At the feet of god.
And I asked,
“What hell?
I asked you to show yourself.”
And the Lord responded,
“I did,
I was the man you talked to
On the bench …
Ass.”

Mr. Kearney

The Infamous Mr. Kearney

kudos to the brilliance of Paco Fuchs, who inspired this one fine afternoon in December.

- Mr. Kearney once roundhouse kicked someone so hard that his foot broke the speed of light, went back in time, and killed Amelia Earhart while she was flying over the Pacific Ocean.

- Rather than being birthed like a normal child, Mr. Kearney instead decided to punch his way out of his mother's womb. Shortly thereafter he grew a beard.

- When Mr. Kearney plays Oregon Trail his family does not die from cholera or dysentery, but rather roundhouse kicks to the face. He also requires no wagon, since he carries the oxen, axels, and buffalo meat on his back. He always makes it to Oregon before you.

- Mr. Kearney sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Mr. Kearney roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.

- Mr. Kearney laughed so hard once that anyone within a hundred mile radius of the blast went deaf.

- Mr. Kearney recently had the idea to sell his urine as a canned beverage. We know this beverage as Red Bull.

- A man once asked Mr. Kearney if his real name is "James". Mr. Kearney
did not respond, he simply stared at him until he exploded.

- The original theme song to the Transformers was actually " Mr. Kearney --more than meets the eye, Mr. Kearney --robot in disguise," and starred Mr. Kearney as a MUHS teacher who defended the earth from drug-dealing Decepticons and could turn into a pick-up. This was far too much awesome for a single show, however, so it was divided.

- Mr. Kearney does not sleep. He waits.

- Mr. Kearney once shot a German plane down with his finger, by yelling, "Bang!"

- The chief export of Mr. Kearney is pain.

- After much debate, President Truman decided to drop the atomic bomb on Hiroshima rather than the alternative of sending Mr. Kearney. His reasoning? It was more "humane".

- Mr. Kearney is currently suing NBC, claiming Law and Order are trademarked names for his left and right legs.

- If you can see Mr. Kearney, he can see you. If you can't see Mr. Kearney you may be only seconds away from death.

- Mr. Kearney frequently signs up for beginner karate classes, just so he can "accidentally" beat the crap out of little kids.

- Helen Keller's favorite color is Mr. Kearney.

- Mr. Kearney doesn't see dead people. He makes people dead.

Mascara Black Tears

Your tears remind me everyday
Of the sorrow I’ve caused you.
Never before
Did I see how much you cared
About me.

So much time
To think of how I’ve hurt you.
I wish I could take it back,
Change what I did.
But that’s not the way
That the sand falls.

An hourglass shows the truth.
That small yellow grain
Is me.
One of millions
Lost in the depths of time.

Come save me
From my wars within.
My chain mail
Is much too thin to endure.
My hands are too bloodied
To wield my sword.
Will you ever come?
Or will I fight them alone?

Your tear drops upon my hand
As I caress your face
And push back your hair.
Your soft touch
Brought me so much joy.

How I wish I could
Dance with you in the rain again.
Your clothes drenched,
Clinging closely
To your beautiful body.
But now,
The cold brings nothing but snow.

The mascara tears fall from your face
And turn as black as a country darkness.
A black sky so serene,
Made to hold our
Thoughts, hopes, and dreams.
At least I have the stars
To give me hope.

I’m flying so high in the sky,
I hope you’ll catch me when I fall.
If my wings burn as I approach the sun,
Save me and hold me in your arms.
Please prevent me from Icarus’s fate.

This is the way life should be.
A place without war,
Without hate,
Nothing but love.

And you shine through it all,
You pierce the darkness
As never before.
An unquenchable fire in my soul.
Will you catch me when I fall?

But I know you’re gone.
Too far gone.
It’s much too late,
To salvage the love I lost.
No one to catch me.
Now I’m falling to the ground
With your tears close to my heart.

I close my eyes
And remember

How you loved me so.

Falling Tears

Almost forgot about this one. I was looking through some of my old documents and found it. I will hopefully expand or incorporate this one too.

Standing in a thunderstorm,
Drops of rain falling on,
My cool tired face.
Loneliness takes another form,
What I’d give,
To be, with you again.

And then I cry,
Let my heart open,
To the sky.
Tears descending,
To the earth.
Never thought,
I’d be here now.

Hand Me Down

A new little tidbit that I hope to expand.

Nothing but a hand me down.
Look at my tattered clothes
Worn with age.
Holes show my bloody knees.
No patch can heal me.

Nothing but a hand me down.
Look at my eyes.
Wisdom beyond my years.
An innocence lost
Much too soon.

Peace.

She Asked Me Why: A Colin Laffey Reprise

I wrote She Asks Me Why several months ago. The infamous lyricist and poet Colin Laffey read the poem and was inspired. This is what he came up with below. He's still working on an official title. Hope you enjoy it.

She asked me why
I spoke my mind
without hesitation.
Questions fill
my mind as well.
I said something cliché
about hearts on sleeves,
but it goes much deeper
Than that.

She asked me why
I felt the need
to cry sometimes.
I wanted to tell
the truth; that sometimes
I'd rather die an unnecessary,
teenage-angst death rather than
wait for a Midwest Summer
in December.
But her Impossible Love
spins circles around
my tongue. And I say,
"It will pass."

She asked me why
I hate him. I said something
about absurdity
and happiness.
But it goes much deeper
than that.

She asked me why
I am not the kind of guy
I used to be.
I wanted to speak
of her obsessions
and addictions
to love and other drugs.
I wanted to speak
of cold Julys and
a catcher in the rye.
I wanted to speak
of dead heartthrobs
and dying hearts.
But her Untouchable Face
is blurred in my head,
and it's been too many months
since it smiled at me.

She asked me why
I fell asleep behind
The Wheel.
Had I heard her,
I would have said
something about
late nights and mental fist fights,
procrastination and towel throwing,
circles and cycles,
blurred eye sight and shaking hands,
but now I know
that prayers are not promised;
that some are caught
by gulls and clouds and kites
and glide, rain, or crash
to the ground.

Oh, but what I'd give
to see you one more time.

She asked me why
I loved her so.
There was something about
the way she used
to take my hand when
things went wrong;
the way lighthouses
shined down around her;
the way birds sang
a new song;
and the way my heart
beat faster.
But I said something like
"I just don't know."

Everything

And the thick gray clouds roll in overhead, casting a shadow over everything.

The thunder claps and the ground shakes.

The earth cracks and in falls everything.

The rain falls, the rain cleanses, and the rain fills the crack with everything.

The ground hardens, seeds take root, and they grow into everything.

The clouds clear, sailing away as quickly as they came, and a new light reveals everything.

From nothing into everything; yet altered, changed, reformed.

And in the distance, a new storm awaits; ready, once again, to change everything.

Elastic Skin

You may know,
With a little bit of blow,
That JP can stretch his skin.
Oh it’s ugly as sin,
Or so the people say.
There will be a day,
When it sags to his knees,
Like some horrible disease.

So stretch it if you can.
An elastic neck,
To bring joy to the world.
So stretch it if you can.

Its worse than tumor,
With a little bit of humor,
You can laugh it off,
Even when you cough.
At least he’s unique,
Unlike you who seek,
The meaning of life,
On the blade of a knife.

So stretch it if you can.
An elastic neck,
To bring joy to the world.
So stretch it if you can.

Big Dreams From A Little Town

This small town,
Has cheated me,
Oh, how I wish to be free.

Once,
Long ago,
I dropped the dime,
And fell into the depths of time.

Never look back,
At the things you left there.
Gotta keep a runnin',
Or you're goin' nowhere.

People like tiny flies,
Flyin' 'round your head,
Listenin' to your little secrets,
Only to tell the world.

I saw you once,
And fell in love.
Love at first sight,
Is what they said.
My only chance,
To get out of here.

But you escaped,
Slipped away.
Just like the dreams,
Lost and faded away.

So Close

Standing side by side,
Seeing shadows of the past.
What I’d give to see,
Your smiling face again.
Please stay with me tonight.

Watching you dance,
Through the window.
So close I can hear you,
So close I can smell you,
But too far to touch you,
Too shy to tell you I love you.

I need a commitment.
I need you to love me too.

She Asked Me Why

She asked me why,
I am not the kind of guy,
I used to be.
And I replied,
Because I died.

My decomposing corpse,
As my soul warps,
Through eternal time.

What I’d give,
To see you just one more time.

Your face,
In the dark of the night,
Smiling bright,
Brighter than all the stars in the sky.

My heart crushed,
Gave way to death,
Slow and painful,
The reaper found his soul.

Emotional Trivium

Why can’t girls,
Have only three emotions,
Anger, Pleasure, and
Complacency.

I lost her once.
Couldn’t tell what
She wanted from me.

But no,
They change the rules,
And get depressed.
Says she’s ugly,
And hates herself.

Lordie why not three,
Why must it be,
so many more?

My oh my,
Girls are hard to understand.

Just kiss me,
And let me know,
How you feel.

So I know,
How to respond,
In my elegant style.

Why can’t girls,
Have only three emotions,
Anger, Pleasure, and
Complacency.

I lost her once.
Couldn’t tell what
She wanted from me.

Girls, they make my life so hard.