 
        photography, poetry, people watching, laughing, camping, hiking, biking, fishing, swimming, anything wilderness oriented, flyfishing, getting lost, riding the motorcycle to nowhere and everywhere and beyond. aside from all that my new quest is to meet enlightened people and to find enlightenment. ;) seek and ye shall find.Oh yeah, I'm the guy that farts in the elevator and calls out the dude next to me.. man you didn't.... ohhhh
Probably you.. if ya have the guts to get out from behind the puter' screen every now and again... ;) hint hint..
kiss me :)*** NEWSFLASH *** I'VE BEEN PUBLISHED..
MY BOOK IS CALLED, "THE BOHEMIAN SCRIBBLINGS,"
basically, it's a collection of my many poems, ramblings and short stories, it's about 143 pages or so..
If you'd like to, and i know ya do, you canPurchase my book online at PublishAmerica.comshould be out in stores by january.. if ya order from the above site.. just type in:
Author: Nicholas Herriage.
or you can type in the book title of: The Bohemian Scribblings...
:)If evolution is evolving is it a revolution?
A rant from my book, "The Bohemian Scribblings,"
poem/rant, "THE MOCKINGBIRD DANCE" 
THE MOCKINGBIRD DANCESON WINGS OF BRANCHESOF A FLOWER OR WEED OF SORTS, I SEE 
HE SILHOUETTES A BACKDROPOF DISREGARDED CLOTHESLINESTIED TO FALLING DOWN FENCES 
AND I WONDERWHAT IS IT,INSIDE THAT FLOWER 
THAT HE SPENDS HIS TIME ONA QUARTER OF AN HOUR?
PASSES.AND HE AND HIS DANCESAND I WATCHING HIM AND THE FLOWER.
THE CLOUDS WEREN’T MINDINGCAUSE THE SUN WAS SHININGON DOWN THROUGH THE CLOUDY TOWERS
FROM TIME TO TIME TO TIMETHE WIND CHIMES WOULD CRY. 
AND HERE I SAT LISTENINGAS IF FOR A VISIONOR A VOICE BESIDES MY OWN. 
OH WHAT FALL DAYS THESE EYES HAVE SEENYET, I HAVE NO-ONE TO SHARE MY EYES WITH.
AND THE ‘YELLOW CAT’ LAYS BYEYES ‘SQUINTED’ FOR SLEEP IN THE SUNNOSE - NOW AND AGAIN SNIFFING THE BREEZE. 
EARS AT THE READYMOBILE RADARS 
PERHAPS HE TOOIS IN LINEAWAITING A SIGNFROM THE HEAVENS, CLOUDS AND FLOWERS. 
next rant/poem...
What The Lamp Sees 
The coolness of fall 
is in this evenings’ slight stirring.
The Aspen leaves wiggle 
in the wind, 
as my skin bumps and shivers. 
I think of all of those 
I’ve forgotten to write to 
And those friends 
Who I’ve failed to keep in touch with. 
All those I’ve loved 
But, never heard from again.
I look at my cluttered desk 
Noticing bits and pieces 
And a lamp in which 
To write to 
And explain myself in full 
He sees these things in front of me 
And makes lists that never 
Get looked at again 
Now he notices 
And takes in a sight 
Of that which is in front of him 
He sees business cards 
Neatly tucked away - forgotten about 
Except when ‘discard day’ comes 
Old spice deodorant - which doesn’t work for shit 
But smells nice for an hour or so 
Pencils, that long to write 
“Pick me, pick me†they say 
Like children do. 
A leather knife case 
Broken hearted 
He waits for his love 
To come home 
To feel her cold gleaming steel 
Against his dry hide 
Photo albums - stand never dated 
Just haphazardly disorganized to fit the page 
And placed carefully 
In dusty time containers 
The pain relief jar 
Lays on his side 
Perhaps he is hung over 
The electric razor 
Screams for electricity 
The compass bent backwards 
By the string 
That binds him 
The black and white film container 
Longs for its film to return 
And not to forget 
The Swiss army knife 
Which gets use 
But the key attached to it 
Opens no doors around here 
Instead, the key holds onto a memory 
Of a parents’ house 
Always warm and inviting 
And smells of food. 
The hunting knife lies to himself 
About recent kills. 
The bills with no postage 
Nor envelopes to send them far away. 
Checkbooks ache and cry 
In this evening’s full moon 
A schedule gets a glance 
From time to time 
But he never remembers 
The tiny print 
The camera 
Oh the camera 
He takes pictures and loves his camera 
All the while 
His darkroom projector bears no evidence of functioning.
The pennies sit 
Huddled in the corner 
Gathering dust 
The books 
So many in number. 
No pages turned as of lately 
The empty tobacco cans 
A reminder to him of cancer. 
Paper clips that enjoy neither 
Paper nor clipping 
To anything in particular 
Stamps that have no value 
Just pretty to look at. 
Await a departure date and flight number 
Not to leave out 
The trusty alarm clock 
That gets to speak for thirty seconds a day 
No snoozes, no singing - just 
Morning fuzz - between stations. 
So the sleepy sleeper 
Gets no extra rest. 
And keys that are held by and bonded 
To the cold carabineer 
Of course that’s only what the lamp sees 
And what about me? 
What do I see? 
Nothing.. 
Just dizziness and 
A feeling like the 
Nautiousness of being 
Lost for the first time.
the doors, beatles, zepplenin, however you spell it.. shit.
grateful dead, beastie boys.. you name it .. if it's old school kewl ... i'm good.
also a sucker for great woman bands and voices.. cranberries, fleetwood mac, no doubt-- gwen steffani kick ass gal met her twice.. rock on gwen and yah i'll still buy you a beer anytime, rilo kiley, yeah yeah yeahs, 311, milla, nirvana,johnny cash, REM, etc.
and old, old school swing, jazz and blues are peachy ;)
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one flew over the coo coo's nest, a clockwork orange, gia, girl interrupted, a river runs through it, legends of the fall, full metal jacket, any war movie, saving private ryan, platoon, hamburger hill, of mice and men, raising arizona,many others, any funny ass movies.. silly or other; animal house, american pie, dumb and dumber, snatch, forest gump.. lol :) oh yah and anything like "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas"..
that 70's show, south park, simpsons, the family guy, the king of queens, mash, ER, House, med shows and comedy stuff.
hobbit, 1984, of mice and men, the outsiders, dante's inferno, dandelion wine, plato, socrates, cs lewis, emerson, a bunch of dead poets, zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance, lightning by koontz, the fire from within, celestine phrophecy, the boy scout handbook.lol for knots.. as if i didn't learn enough in the coast guard..a lot too many to list..
except "on the road" by jack kerowack
and can't forget about h.s. thompson L)
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my fellow coast guard guys.. coasties. jfk, mlk, john lennon, jim morrison, mother teresa, all fellow medics, and monte python actors.. and my guardian angel,
st.francis of asisi..
oh can't forget about dr. suess...
No, sam i am, i will not eat green eggs and ham.;)
Love it or leave it...