5.30.2009

chopping down the tree of knowledge

this bubble shines
it's glistening smooth sides
reflect the world around it
me, you, I
we live inside
the laughter bounces off the walls
and comes back to us
but when we have sorrow
it escapes, pushed so hard out
I like the sound of the streets and the water
no one likes the cries of man
I think of me she says
I only do that
I'm stuck in this mind
this body, this bubble
I am all I have
when I hold onto my sorrow
it makes me who I am
while the world floats on their laughter
I sink with mine

the distorted light from above
comes through the filter of my mind
the eyes the nose the ears the skin
reach out for comfort
comfort me please
I want, I want, I want
I can't, I don't, I won't
it's not worth it
but all I want, need, die without
everything
the world mine, mind of the world
distilling the feeling
crushing it down, sucking in all mass
like a black hole, let go
let go, fast

5.28.2009

nothing from nothing

I don't swim like the other fish
my eyes don't gleam anymore
my belly is always full
burning with remorse
tingling heart beats in it's bony dungeon
dirty fingers caress the shaking body
an anti-hero is something to be
crushing pain
on the wrong side of the tracks
the blood shimmers and vibrates
sun and heat squeeze me
blackness developing around
flickering lights
the static of life
every thing i never really knew
was right

5.09.2009

god takes care of himself

I can not be a young man
I can not be a man
I am a phantom
a shadow
the dark version of what I was
what I could be
the interactions don't happen
I can't speak
I can not see
every thing is sealed
in an envelope
dropped off to nowhere
I am a sponge
an alcohol sponge
I drink
and disappear
instead of expand
I am lost
one of the so lost
the change happened
without asking me
the bombs
the bullets
the screams
the sirens
and now
the dreams
followed, hollowed, scared
and alone
falling apart
sewing the holes
enough
enough with the banter
the miniscule things
enough with the never
never ending
plow some other field
burden some other seed
the plant you raised
to grow up strong
isn't strong enough to feed

5.05.2009

In a very bad attitude I say to you
this is wrong it's all wrong and I ball my fists
This is fucked what happened where did we go
where am I now what do I do god damnit
I fought I killed I got no thrills
I loved I lost I worked for what
for fucking nothing no one is here
no one knows how it feels to be inside a mind that hates everyone for being human and not knowing that shit
and it's probably not even the war it's probably my fucked up self
I can't do anything fucking right I'm worthless, a nobody
I want the rich to all be poor I don't care if I starve anymore
Fuck overseas banks, plastic surgery, and jewelry
what the fuck does that have to do with my country
but it's what the world wants it's what it craves
superficiality and nothing real
well good job good going people your really making a change
your feeding the African babies and reducing global warming
your spreading freedom and democracy improving trade
and god bless the VA for giving our troops AID's
you have made it so most of the vets would be happier
dead anyway
Your spilling the blood of your own in the name of peace
you don't matter, your vote doesn't matter
because any way you flip it
the coin is the same
I'll punch out all your smiles so you really know shame
so you can never be happy or know ignorance again
i'll go kicking and screaming as they drag me away
no man is a god but you have made business your king
you've made money and buildings and pretty things
you've done wrong to be here just like me
only the guilt was somehow lost in your ancestry
you've made man your slaves, you've killed civilizations
claimed torture to be in the name of god, and raped nations
sat down and watched as your brothers, your people are diminished, as a species kills itself, as the virus of diminishing morality spreads, I was born into a world that I just do not fit


rust

stay awake
go outside
get on the road
take a little ride
slip and fall
bruise and scrape
the next day it's all the same
this time trip
and spill some blood
mix it all
into the mud
over and over
the spiral won't end
until you are dead
you've broken bone
life seeps out
the marrow is gone
don't just fall
this time jump
brains coming out
through a broken skull
eyes empty of fluid
ears pouring blood
droplets speckle the ground
someone rolls you over
you can't see or speak
the take your wallet
that is life

break the glass
drink the rust
sleep
in the fire

force the pain
feel the hurt
god
is on vacation

grow old
give up
too early
and never
too late

5.02.2009

big city with tiny little hearts

The garbage man dies and his family can't afford to bury him. They cry when he is cremated. He was a wild man and left a trail of devastation behind him. His wife's name was Maria, his daughter Faye. A week after he died a woman showed up at their home. She was a prostitute by profession. Maria didn't let her in the door. The woman exclaimed that she was pregnant with Maria's now deceased husbands baby and she needed money to have it, or not to. Maria told her there was nothing left, that her husband had spent everything they had on liqour and now obviously whores. The woman slapped Maria and spun around back out into the streets.
Faye got good grades in school. She missed her father. Even the way he smelled like trash when he came home. She missed hugging him and calling him papa. She didn't miss late at night when he would scream at mom and walk out the door with a slam. Mom would then come lay in bed with her, fresh tears in her eyes. The love of a parent is unique in everyone. Faye longed for a day when she would grow up and have her own little girl she could come lay in bed with at night when either of them was scared or alone.
Some people do things without thinking. They are stubborn and look for all the wrong things. The garbage man didn't know he had these two women he was hurting so bad at home. He went out and fought, partied, did whatever he could to escape a life he thought he didn't want. He had grown up poor and was destined to end up that way only by his own hands. He was once in love and bright and cared about life and things. He loved his wife and his little girl, but sometimes love isn't enough.
The women spread his ashes on the ground outside Soldier Field. One thing Faye remembered was sitting home on Sunday with her father watching football. So they thought it was a good place for him to rest. Maria's heart ached. They packed up their things and moved back to Indiana where Maria's mother still lived. The girls had a family for once. There was only one spare bed that Maria and Faye shared. They would hold eachother at night. Not because of fear, sadness, or rejection. It was out of independence and love, no more tears of sorrow, no more crying for a man long gone. There was love and that's all they needed.

5.01.2009

the few, the proud, the nobodies

I drank my beers. I proposed a toast to myself in the dark. The moment of tradition was nice but fleeting. I lay down listening to Jack Kerouac spouting lines of consciousness streaming. None of it makes sense but it's a peek into the uncontrolled rantings of a great writer. I think he may have been on something when he wrote. I'm not sure what but I think I have had that feeling.
Cool was the breeze. Distant everything seemed.
The bones are in the earth
Im laying in the bed
neither of us knows
why images are burnt into my head
The air is in my lungs
tug of war with the atmosphere
all I know is everything
someone get me out of here
the plague is intelligence
and we all have the flu
saturated in the portrait
of nothing real untrue
The metal in the barrel
the powder in your bag
the stretch of run that cant help you escape
all of what you had

gone without remorse
leaving carnage behind
the more i wish I were more
the more I strain my mind
Your a soul with a vision
your a monster with your words
the diamonds in your eyes
are so bright they hurt

Your golden persona
a vagrant in the stream
salty fish with sharpened fins
just leave me be
It's a heart without an artery
a thumb without a hand
the harshness of living
will help you be a man
la la la
la la la
la la la la la la la la