the everlasting funstopper

Oktoberfest

2012-02-04T17:11:00.001-05:00

seaside...

2011-06-27T16:41:00.002-04:00

like fiends...

2011-05-05T15:14:00.001-04:00

The damsels and denizens come dancing in droves,

Shedding their skin like old garlic cloves

And under the willow, they rip off their clothes

And claw at the sky like fiends.

Past the meadow, the flood waters recede,

They twirl around the river rocks like ghostly black beads

Hovering over ants marching in a rabid stampede

They know they are theirs for the taking.

Huddled together in a muddy mass grave,

Tangled together in a black rolling wave

For the lost sins and children we never forgave

They died in the deluge like fiends.

red no. 1009.

2010-07-01T22:09:00.001-04:00

space between

2010-06-26T11:00:00.002-04:00

k and the tunnel

2010-06-22T13:38:00.003-04:00

روحي. مخلصي.

2010-06-22T13:10:00.005-04:00

parachute ball

2010-05-06T10:21:00.001-04:00

i’ve exhaled the last of you,
and you fluttered.
you are the parachute ball of a dandelion,
floating… floating, gone.
no wishes made. none granted.
just a gentle breeze, and somber notes, soaring to the forgotten.

words by k.boyce. © 2010 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

end

2010-04-30T13:32:00.002-04:00

ruins of our crash

2010-04-06T14:41:00.007-04:00

another flyby,
another fruitless return.
i can’t see straight. i’ll never learn.
happened so fast,
white flash, and broken limbs
wobbly words and faithless hymns
and the mass grows
the mass grows
explodes.

i can't keep searching the ruins of our crash
i can't keep searching the ruins of our crash
there’s no wreckage.
there’s no wreckage.
there’s no.

another recovery,
another dive into remission.
perhaps we’ll never know the condition.
should’ve learned,
treetops, and traffic cops
nothing matters when you say nothing at all

i can't keep searching the ruins of our crash
i can't keep searching the ruins of our crash
there’s no wreckage.
there’s no wreckage.
there’s no.

photo and words by k.boyce. © 2010 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

khali

2008-12-15T14:35:00.001-05:00

punchline

2008-10-17T21:09:00.006-04:00

All those chances you took,
What have you got to show?
Those red shoes, and tight white dress
Such a mess, resuscitate.
Those dogs smell revenge,
Out for a taste of inner thighs,
You can mask discontent
But it's hardly a disguise.
So, what to make of this?
Burning sand and stuttering time,
Funneled into mouth
To shape the way you outlive your crime.
Got to make it right now.
Got to make it right.
God is funny to you,
But the punchline is lost.

digital, slr and camera phone photos by k.boyce. words and photo © 2008 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

storm over philadelphia. september 9, 2008.

2008-09-10T14:28:00.003-04:00

glare

2008-07-16T19:23:00.008-04:00

moriarty's, philadelphia, pa

2008-07-16T19:05:00.002-04:00

red no. 7. jessup street. philadelphia.

2008-06-19T15:33:00.002-04:00

rainbow. southampton, new jersey

2008-06-19T15:09:00.004-04:00

natural blue

2008-02-06T14:22:00.001-05:00

So dangerous, so dangerous
What shall we do with this undoing?
You asked for the breath of the world on your neck
And when it turned sour, you scurried away
So outrageous, quite contagious
The way you feel yourself high up in the tree
Ready to tread on broken limbs
And sore feet...
To feel the burning booze delete the sky above.

words © 2007 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

train. quakertown, pa.

2007-10-19T19:03:00.002-04:00

trees and wires

2007-05-06T07:36:00.001-04:00

hyde street pier. san francisco.

2007-05-05T07:22:00.001-04:00

pier

2007-03-17T10:38:00.001-04:00

golden gate state park. san francisco.

2007-03-17T02:32:00.001-04:00

tree tunnel. san francisco.

2007-03-16T22:14:00.001-04:00

swollen : beaten : smothered : done

2007-03-09T20:47:00.001-05:00

go

2007-03-03T21:38:00.001-05:00

red truck. johnson's farm. medford, nj.

2007-02-03T00:33:00.001-05:00

Sky Over Walnut Street, Philadelphia...

2007-01-18T07:28:00.001-05:00

mystic, ct

2006-12-30T07:22:00.001-05:00

rest in peace, my old friend...

2006-12-21T15:36:00.001-05:00

My friend Drew Goren took the photo above of his daughter, Nina, in 2004. Drew and I spent a few years working together at a magazine in New York City. He was one of the most gifted photographers I’ve ever known, and I picked his brain endlessly about his pictures – how he took them, what kind of film and exposure he used, how he got his pictures to look so amazing, and so forth. I learned more from Drew in a few short years than I had in an entire lifetime of trying to take a decent picture.

Most of all, Drew was a wonderful friend to me. He offered to send me on photo shoots in New York to build a portfolio and gain some confidence. He scanned over 40 of my slides so I could build this blog.

One time, Drew told me that the drug store, Walgreens, made an 800 speed color film that was amazing for portraits. I laughed -- are you serious? drug store film? A week later, a box of Walgreen’s 800 showed up in my mailbox. And, of course, he was right; my favorite picture of my son was taken with a roll of that film.

Drew and I talked endlessly about politics, photography, and music. We shared many beers, and a few good shots. We even yelled at each other a few times and laughed afterwards. I like to think that we were a good team -- friends that managed to do a few cool things for a less than perfect music magazine.

Drew passed away this week. He was just 33. He was an amazing soul, an inspirational father, and I will miss him greatly. Thank you for everything, my friend.

If you have some time, please visit his website: subwaysleeper.

we blew the windows out, didn't we?

2006-12-18T21:13:00.001-05:00

in philadelphia at night...

2006-12-17T21:42:00.002-05:00

last chance to breathe

2006-12-02T01:11:00.001-05:00

This is my conscience streaming into binary existence
And so what? Think what you will, it’s still eating away
Or maybe festering, multiplying in its own pretentious way
The abused boy, still trembling under your fist
I felt it first, inside, and it hurt me
Your filthy mouth, wrapped around my tongue…
Licking, licking, coughing, licking, licking, coughing
You servant… your obligation…. your absence…
Sipping absinthe as if we were Van Gogh or his sane brother
Retching, loathing, disgust and discontent >>>>
My last chance to breathe, something profound
This stabbing ache, this retched beauty, caught beneath the tumbling winter waves,
I cannot accept this, the last thought, the last say… I don’t own it

photo and words © 2006 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

loggerhead sea turtle. nj state aquarium.

2006-11-22T19:05:00.001-05:00

plane in philadelphia

2006-11-17T09:17:00.001-05:00

everything's ruined >>>>>>>>>>>

2006-11-04T19:44:00.001-05:00

red no. 12/05

2006-11-02T13:50:00.001-05:00

peaches > > >

2006-11-02T13:48:00.001-05:00

tree, the week before. medford, new jersey.

2006-11-02T13:46:00.001-05:00

jack

2006-09-29T22:03:00.001-04:00

frog with two mosquitoes. florida.

2006-09-26T21:47:00.001-04:00

fishermans wharf, san francisco.

2006-09-26T19:49:00.001-04:00

giants at night. san francisco.

2006-07-20T22:33:00.001-04:00

seagull. municipal pier, san francisco.

2006-07-18T18:58:00.001-04:00

chinatown. san francisco. july 2006.

2006-07-15T09:05:00.001-04:00

oakland bay bridge. san francisco. july 2006.

2006-07-15T09:01:00.001-04:00

tree at night

2006-06-25T14:56:00.001-04:00

train museum, strasburg, pa...

2006-06-19T22:53:00.001-04:00

off of route 70 east, new jersey, 06/06/06

2006-06-06T23:37:00.001-04:00

public market. seattle. may 2005.

2006-06-03T21:08:00.001-04:00

showgirls. seattle. may 2005.

2006-06-03T21:07:00.001-04:00

frog. florida. february 2006.

2006-06-03T21:05:00.001-04:00

Life is an art, not a science. It’s based on feeling, not structure.

2006-05-25T23:23:00.001-04:00

ben franklin bridge. philadelphia. april 2006.

2006-05-05T16:18:00.001-04:00

my son's feet

2006-05-04T13:24:00.001-04:00

carousel. hershey, pa.

2006-05-04T09:39:00.001-04:00

each tentacle is covered with stinging cells

2006-05-04T09:36:00.001-04:00

the sunset will never charm me........

2006-05-02T12:27:00.001-04:00

woke up to fall asleep inside of you,
sodden and empty,
drapes barricading achromatic skies.

and the sunset will never charm me again,
since i didn't know you.
so, tonight I'll set out to some lost place.

perhaps near those hemlocks, i'll go
to where I thought i had it all,
on the day that diana died.

the day I walked away,
thumping like a kick-drum behind me.
thumping like a kick-drum.
thumping like a kick-drum.

words and photo © 2006 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

deer . by . the . road

2006-04-28T18:28:00.001-04:00

sweeping green, passes by
with washed-out skies,
floating on air around 70 or so...
and there's not too many deer by the road,
such a shame, you know?
down near parkville, on 95
the brake lights flared >>>
blissfully unaware, around 70 or so...
and there's not too many deer by the road,
such a shame, you know?

you know.

photo and words © 2006 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

even across the river, the buildings fell....

2006-04-26T20:03:00.001-04:00

blue no. 11

2006-04-21T23:50:00.001-04:00

emergency card

2006-04-21T23:23:00.001-04:00

i'm so sorry that i cannot untie this slippery knot;
i pulled just as hard as you.
looking back, i see the strain... not so sober, desperately disconected... overwhelmed.
it's tragic, really.
there's really no turning back from this.
i am a dog on your splintery floor, panting... panting... panting...
i am bruised
and burned
and broken
stop, please.
the leap is not too great - the train is very fast >>>>>>>

i keep an emergency card in my wallet.

words and photo © 2006 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

palms. stuart, florida. feb. 2006.

2006-04-08T11:14:00.001-04:00

tractor and clouds (before)

2006-03-26T05:52:00.001-05:00

outside stuart, florida. february 2006...

2006-03-26T02:00:00.001-05:00

it may look divine, but don't be naive...

2006-02-13T22:37:00.001-05:00

stranded

2006-02-12T21:00:00.001-05:00

i must have let it go, somewhere in the snow where i used to live. stranded...
how was i supposed to know? under all this haze, this great crusade;
now look,
it's bloated and blue
stranded...

photo and words © 2006 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

amaryllis

2006-02-10T15:34:00.003-05:00

time, fade, funeral, oil, love, waking, boring, communion, autumn, river, old...

2006-02-09T12:03:00.001-05:00

infected with the larvae of one million gnats…

2006-01-06T16:00:00.001-05:00

I'm calling today to let you know;
The awful reign has just begun;
The reason I collapsed my lungs;
It has begun.
So here I am, my love;
Trapped in the quagmire.
By the morning, it'll be all over;
And you'll wake up with the sun peaking in;
Spitting its flares, bathing you like it's your first day on Earth.
Next time you see me, just ask.
I will try to explain.
I might be at a loss for words, but that's OK;
Everything I say is meaningless anyway...

photo and words © 2006 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

the cedar lake

2005-12-30T12:04:00.001-05:00

floating in a lake.
night. dead quiet.
water is a sheet of endless black.
cradling brown cedar clinging to skin.
slide beneath the surface and fall asleep looking at the blurry moon above.
words and photo © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

<<< come >>>

2005-12-30T11:52:00.002-05:00

So, your eyes are closed. I'm proud of you. Perhaps if you ate the fucking bark like I told you, you'd still be able to look at yourself. I never wanted to fuck it all away, but the distortions made it painful and orgasmic. Well, welcome to hell, you rotten fuck. I hope the trees tear away from their roots, leaves screaming for water, coming for you where you sleep. And crush you. Blind you. Murder your lust and lick your wounds. This is what you asked for -- so allow me to shoot myself in your mouth. What do you think of your filthy God now? Lost and twisted, celebrating your desire for things you will never have. Punished. Slightly melodic. Totally hypnotic. Under those trees you see above, I lie naked, bruised and wanting, breathing shallow and hard as rock. Come find me. You'll be sorry.

words and photo © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

the birch in the woods near the dry lake in which i drowned my sense of belonging...

2005-12-30T11:50:00.001-05:00

arch street

2005-12-30T11:48:00.001-05:00

the barking of dead dogs

2005-12-16T16:11:00.001-05:00

eye...

2005-11-24T02:08:00.001-05:00

bush house hotel, quakertown, pa

2005-11-24T01:39:00.001-05:00

self

2005-11-24T01:36:00.001-05:00

asleep at the wheel

2005-11-23T22:13:00.001-05:00

... yes, it's true, i'm asleep at the wheel;
longing for attention and a decent laugh.
yes, it's true, i'm tortured... so what?
take a stab at this, stab at this.

and to think it's all come to this;
one blinding flash, and the horizon is gone.
sink our souls into the swirling black,
and inhale as if we even had a chance.

yes, it's true, i'm asleep at the wheel;
dancing and laughing in your headlights.
hit me once again with those eyes i love;
and run me down, run me down.

words and photograph © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

moon. trees. house. november 2005...

2005-11-19T10:36:00.001-05:00

stars over the white mountains, new hampshire

2005-11-15T18:54:00.001-05:00

progress is being made, one tower crane at a time...

2005-11-14T10:31:00.001-05:00

this is the direction from which you came...

2005-11-12T15:32:00.001-05:00

the events of the last few hours were nothing short of impressive

2005-11-11T23:26:00.001-05:00

The crickets were cacophonous the last night
Alarmed, the insects of the world jumped at the sound of the squealing trumpet piercing the biting cold night.
The first angel dropped from the sky, soaring through the black starry sea in a fiery blaze, spitting glimmering red onto the treetops.
The faultlines fractured, tossing stone and flesh from its back,
The oceans churned and drained before rushing past the shore line, consuming… rushing… permeating. Thousands gagged with salt water.
When dawn peaked through the blue, it was choked black.
The second angel screamed, puncturing eardrums by the millions as he dropped to earth.
Rivers flowed backwards.
Blood streamed from the clouds.
Volcanoes ejaculated after years of holding back.
The burning whores in the brothels begged. And the deviants suffered. The sinful flogged with the devil’s tail.
The locusts came that afternoon, devouring and swarming. chewing and devastating. It was hypnotic. I nearly cried.
squads sweeping through cities, faceless and gurgling death rattles.
Choking ash.
Murder for survival, mercy killing, suicide in every imaginable form.
Lawlessness, abandonment, abolishment, revolt.
Morale majority fucking for one last time.
When the third angel soared above, most were gone.
Those left were treated to solar flares, whipping the world with scolding punches; lungs ignited, skin melted, organs failed. I nearly cheered.
Forests toppled. Tongues were swallowed.
Animals burned. Crimson.
Birds dropped from thin air. Pungent. Nauseated.
Soulless. Sewers clogged with billions of dead rats.
Debauchery. Flies.
Last rites. Agony.
Forgiveness for sin… just in case.
Silence.
Lunar.
Black.
Gone.
You are responsible for this.

photograph and words © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

here's the trick:

2005-11-07T10:09:00.001-05:00

watch and learn. don't repeat. drive fast. look around. kiss the girl. go to the ocean. stand on the jetty. swallow salt water. sleep with boots on. love. listen. be active. take your meds. stay away from dark corners. vote. appreciate art. learn guitar. sing. listen to nick drake's 'place to be.' swing at night. get wet. have one too many. mosh. read thompson. hate government/love country. take pictures. go to the toy store. pay attention to johnny cash. don't watch tv. avoid american news organizations. get hospitalized. don't objectify. buy tv on the radio albums. paint. give it all away. be alone. breathe. lie on back/look at stars. don't like republicans. fuck judgment. all things in moderation. don't eat red meat. swallow. be sure to learn to swim. pay attention to robert johnson. educate yourself about the carlyle group and the project for the new american century. visit san francisco. collect rocks. sleep. eat tofu. send postcards. follow your heart. never get gas at exxon. avoid parents. eat breakfast burritos. try the mint chocolate chip ice cream. watch the muppets. break something. be uncomfortable. write for a magazine. die in the woods beneath the hemlock trees.

photograph and words © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

bloodletting

2005-11-04T14:24:00.002-05:00

so buried, i am, under this drift of biting snow,
nipping and tasting me with its icy chokehold, fingering my larynx.
damn this frost, creeping into my mouth and down into my lungs;
fuck this rot spewing from within.
so dying, i am, under the thump of this 10-ton hammer,
resting on my chest and smothering my limp soul.
damn this parade and all you sycophants leading the charge;
fuck this absurd desire to breathe.
so airless, this thin path — this deepening wound,
bloodletting without end.
damn this hole, from which i shout:
fucking cover me now or never look at me again.

photograph and words © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

i am the chill running up your spine.

2005-10-24T10:54:00.001-04:00

the blood drops out my nose to the floor and the luminol flashes an undeniable glow.
and i can feel the vomit purring just below my larynx,
ready to coat my vocal chords and fill my mouth with bile.
fists soar through the air, and i tear at my skin.
this skin is nauseating.
i am covered with toxins, seeping into my pores from the inside.
fuck. get it off of me.

yes, you can come take a look within… this revulsion staking a claim, shoving itself into a comfortable spot just below my sternum — gorging on my core.
come hold my rotting body in your arms.
let me feed on you

i will consume you.
i will consume you.
i… will… consume… you.
close your eyes. you'll never know what happened.

words © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

ben franklin walked these streets

2005-10-23T19:55:00.001-04:00

outside of the car window...

2005-10-23T09:47:00.002-04:00

a fine display

2005-10-11T19:15:00.001-04:00

of course (not)

2005-10-03T20:30:00.001-04:00

where were you, when it was in me?

2005-10-03T20:25:00.001-04:00

the sandpiper is wondering where you went...

2005-09-27T17:52:00.001-04:00

do you know?

2005-09-11T17:36:00.001-04:00

mystic, connecticut. april 2000.

2005-09-10T10:34:00.001-04:00

a sizable part of my soul is still lying, blue and unresponsive, on the gummy floor of a hotel room in mystic, connecticut. it wasn't too far from the spot in this photograph, a small island monastery surrounded by rock and accessable by a manmade bridge that cuts into the choppy atlantic. i took this photo after many sleepless, intoxicated days and nights. i had to get out of the room. there isn’t much i connect with from this time, other than the stinging cold, wynn bullock photographs, white flashes burning my eyes, and the rotten stench of tequila gurgling up from my gut.

the beating stopped. air escaped. muscles loosened. organs failed.

i will never go back. never.

photograph and words © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper