Archive for May, 2007

May 25 2007

The Sandblaster!

It has been several years in the making but I’m pleased to announce that for all intents and purposes the guitar project is complete. Lots of people asked if I had a name for it and, after pondering for a while, came up with The Sandblaster! This was one of my nick names when I was a kid, and seemed to sound like a guitar (a la Telecaster). I hope to take better pix at some point, but this was the best I could muster right now:

The Sandblaster

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May 03 2007

Go

Published by under Poetry

Go
By Sander Roscoe Wolff
6/29/03 12:43 AM

Inarticulate yearnings abound, boundless Love resounds
Running in place, no sound in space, no winner to this race
Man, humanity, this lump of flesh, expands
Exceeding limitations and conceptions, boundless Love resounds
This unknown face, familiar grace, moving in time and space
Human beings, stretched beyond all limits, boundless Love resounds
We stand on the brink of new knowing, new boundaries
We know only what was, and imagine what may be
We cannot see, or know, but only go and hope to show others
Where they dare not go

This place is cold at night, dark and alone here, no knowing
Can comfort this space, abandoned by the human race
No Earth upon which to make a stand, no familiar face
No walls to bounce the sound of resounding Love
Just limitlessness
Is this my humanity? Must I let go of it all to go?
How can I know?

Inarticulate yearnings abound, boundless Love resounds
Running in place, no sound in space, no winner to this race
Man, humanity, this lump of flesh, expands
Exceeding limitations and conceptions, boundless Love resounds
This unknown face, familiar grace, moving in time and space
Human beings, stretched beyond all limits, boundless Love resounds
We move beyond the brink of new knowing, new boundaries
We knew only what was, and imagined what might be
We could not see, or know, but only go and hope to show others
Where we dared not go

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May 02 2007

Pearl Thistle Plug Epistle

Published by under Poetry

Pearl Thistle Plug Epistle
by Sander Roscoe Wolff
October 1, 2006

Drinking milk, a flood of calcium in hopes of growing
luminescent glowing pearl, her love a grain of sand.
My heart slows, knowing it will not sustain this
frantic pace, racing away from her blindly
when she speaks unkindly.

Won’t this magic coalesce? I’m a swine, now where’s mine?
I want to form one ‘round this formless soul, this
strained muscle that keeps beating itself against her walls.
She laughs at my fumbling metaphors, tosses her hair and
suddenly not there.

It’s a thistle, grown around my healing heart, to ward off
eager, careless hands. Demands upon it will not stand.
This epistle blossoms in the Spring,
the sting of cruelty long forgotten,
memories of misbegotten days.

How I long to forget her, to not see her face
whenever I close my eyes. Forget her whispers, laugh,
and sighs. I close my eyes. This lingering appetite for
all that stills me, all that kills me, won’t be denied.
Have I died?

Drugs and alcohol, Vicodin and regret, a strange cocktail
mixed in a broken glass. Cigarettes burn, I can’t forget. I
yearn for that sting, the pain she brings, it cannot end until
I die. She is my life support. Am I strong enough
to pull the plug?

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May 02 2007

Come To Me

Published by under Music,Poetry,Songs,Uncategorized

Come To Me (Lyrics to

      a song
)
by Sander Roscoe Wolff

The pain inside has died at last
All hope has perished too
And every dream has turned to ash
There’s nothing left to do

I’ve walked alone through worse, I know,
And faced my every fear
Yet somehow as the end draws close
I wish that you were here

I don’t want your comfort, lord,
Forgiveness will not come
I want for you to know me once
Before I’m really gone

Your devils waiting patiently
Their flames are drawing near
And as their talons tear my flesh
I wish that you were here

I wish you stood inside these shoes
And bore this misery
But I refuse to call your name
And you won’t come to me

You made me in your image, lord
Yet you will shed no tear
This mother’s son has earned no love
I wish that you were here

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May 02 2007

Titano Dandy

We all have moments of weakness, when we do things we know we shouldn’t. We make choices based on motivations we really don’t understand and, sometimes, the consequences of those choices can be unpredictible. Such was the case a few months back when I went to an auction to sell some stuff. Here are some photos of what I left with:

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