a heartbreak bomb has exploded in my guts

Pink Floyds - One of my turns

Day after day
Love turns gray
Like the skin on the dying man
And night after night
We pretend it's all right
But I have grown older
And you have grown colder
And nothing is very much fun, anymore
And I can feel
One of all my turns coming on
I feel
Cold as a razor blade
Tight as a tourniquet
Dry as a funeral drum

Run to the bedroom
In the suitcase on the left
You'll find my favorite axe
Don't look so frightened
This is just a passing phase
One of my bad days
Would you like to watch TV?
Or get between the sheets?
Or contemplate the silent freeway?
Would you like something to eat?
Would you like to learn to fly?
Would ya?
Would you like to see me try?
Ohh, No...

Would you like to call the cops?
Do you think it's time I stopped?
Why are you running away?


Hello.Goodbye

I think she desperately needs me to feel like a rotten little
animal. She broke my heart again tonight. I love her so
much and just wish she could treat me like a human being.
I miss the comfort of being loved. Doesn't she?
Anyhow, I have been enjoying some good movies, some good music..
I would like to share this information with you.

a great mix tape/cd...
1. Daniel Johnston-the story of an artist
2. arcade fire-intervention
3. the appleseed cast-mountain halo
4. the sinking ships-i hope your teenage dreams find you well
5. a whisper in the noise-hell's half acre
6. tv on the radio-wolf like me
7. steve burns and paul ford-in the park (squirrel and rat)
8. placebo-meds
9. the pixies-wave of mutilation (surf rock mix) from "pump up the volume"
10. pink floyd-one of my turns
11. nine inch nails-beside you in time
12. muse-starlight
13. the killers-read my mind
14. frank black-headache
15. explosions in the sky-first breath after coma
16. bright eyes-devil town
17. big star-holocaust
18. bad astronaut-the thirteenth step
19. aphex twin-avril 14th
20. a perfect circle-the nurse who loved me

and as for a few films to tickle your fancy (you perverts!)

Zardos (insane over sexed 70's sci-fi)
Four Rooms (if you ever missed this gem rent it now, Tim Roth is badass!)
The Devil and Daniel Johnston (even if you hate his music this story is heartbreaking)
Little Miss Sunshine (you will laugh, cry and laugh some more)
Any Bill Murray movie... (heck...why not?)

so here is some craptastic crapola!

Love,

Captain PirateFace
A.K.A. The spineless Superman!

_________________________________________________________


she is a hunter, he is… dead meat.

Like the age old song said…
She’s a man eater.
The skull fits snug between large salivating jowls.
Christ we pray…
I hope she breaks a tooth.



sleep until wake

The bad dreams have become almost pleasant.
The night terrors are now holding my hand.
And I always wake up just when her and I
begin to kiss.
Sleep escapes me now.
Like a stolen luxury.
When I dream tonight…
I will dream of you and your greatest doom…
And my pathetic love.



Somersaults in the Garden of Eden

Too many sunbathing wrinkled bodies in this small space.
Loud music blasts from the tree speakers playing the “Blue Danube”.
And flat beer flows freely from the stone Cupid fountains 3 inch dick.
I run lighthearted and boyish through the crowd swinging a machete…
The damage is beautiful.
The swimming pool clogged with soggy piñatas,
Full of melted chocolates and hard candy.
The telephone rings wildly in the background and someone picks it up sobbing.
And when night falls we will set this house on fire and hope the flames hit
the fireworks in the attic before dawn.
In the meantime this photo album keeps me company.
Staring at the faces of the miserable and now dead, playing pretend smiles at
happy birthday parties, holidays and sexual intercourse.
God bless us… everyone.



Victory and Salvation… a new God Damn Winner! (Yet Again)

They told her she would fail at everything.
They laughed when she got pregnant at twelve.
They winced when they found out who the father was.
She swore the father was the devil.
Having her baby in an asylum, followed by immediate shock therapy.
The times she was happy were brief but, she could always count on them.
She could paint for an hour a day…
Little oil paintings of her half devil offspring.
Growing from infant to child, child to young man.
Handsome and wicked.
And on the day she walked out she had tucked under
her arms ten of her very favorites.
The son she birthed picked her up in a limo and lovingly placed
the portraits in the trunk.
Driving off to the countryside she smiled a vicious grin
past the window and past the tree’s.
Past the cloudless sky and beyond the stars in Heaven.
She would now paint for two hours a day.
And that was ok with her son, and the limo driver.



The fat man cometh

Half runs and panting for breath and water.
A horrible sight to see.
I blame the mirror for ugly truths.
I thought I was winning the race but then realize that the fat bastard
lumbering towards me was no other train wreck than myself.
Lifting up the shirt to reveal pale fat gut.
How could his lover do nothing but despise this beast?
Hiding in some corner in a far off room she probably feared being crushed.
The little nagging voice blasts louder than ever into the eardrums…
Put down the meat and pick up the pen.
Just let me catch my breath.



Something wonderful and armed to the teeth with insanity and love.

He sits in my bed as I sleep playing with his toys just to be near me.
Has long conversations and adores the mess I am regardless.
And after too much time has passed for both of us and we catch a
glimpse of one another…
His walk becomes a spirited run and a leap into my arms throwing his arms
Around my neck and hugging viciously.
Saying the most pleasant three words spoken by the most pleasant small voice on the planet… “I love you”.
Sometimes he is full of rage and plays at insanity.
When you call him on it his feelings are hurt easily and the tears come quick.
Just like his Daddy.
Even at his worst most people can’t help but fall deeply in love.
His power is great and he has you all in his grasp…
Those who think that this is an in-truth, just wait until you meet him.
The wicked little angel that is my son,
Gabriel.



This battle will kill us all but I can guess you will keep fighting.

Mud and tears and blood and rot are not romantic.
There is no love in splintered tore off limbs and mouths hanging open with the blank stare of one who caught a rare glimpse of the reaper.
These battles are the salt on the wound.
Survive and be haunted.
Die and become the ghost.
Take a look at the sky, the land and the oceans.
There are no Heaven and Hell that you can see.
Lay down your weapons.
Embrace each other for just a moment…
Then, if you must…
Continue with your genocide.



Empty spaces

You hate me.
Of this I am sure.
And when you are a memory it will slowly take me apart.
The shadows will creep these halls and end in the places we would sit and talk.
The smell of you will be on every pillow and chair.
And as my strength leaves me and my muscles tear away, I will spend long hours staring at the pictures that captured, for just a moment, your beautiful face.
The kind soul you used to have.
The soul I ruined.
And the phone calls will leave me wanting as you hang up on this venomous voice you have grown to detest.
This home will be a tomb in your absence.
And as it’s architect all I can do is write sad little poems of what I lost.
Of what I keep losing.



The machine

Open up the cage and fill it with fear and pain.
Fill it with perversions and guilt.
Fill it till it’s full and press the big red button marked,
”Danger”.
My machine breaks it down.
Makes it compact.
To the size of a single pill.
Swallow.
Repeat process.



Sideshow boy

I will not be abandoned ever again.
I will not be forgotten.
I will set fire to the sky.
I will stand up among the sideshow freaks and break iron chains.
I will not give up… yet.
I will not abandon you all.
I will not forget you all.
I will be there suffering with you all.
The same spear through my ribs and the same crown of thorns.
I love you all you rotten bastards.
And I will suffer with you as long as there is breath in my body.



let it.

Let it fit into us.
Let our love carve itself into our souls.
Pray for our salvation with one another.
Passion and love and hope dripping from our every pore.
No more black days and starless nights.
Save us from us so we can grow.
Let our diseased love purge the sickness.
If you still want me…
Just say.
And I will love you beyond the Angels lies.
Beyond the bravery of the kamikaze fools destroying our delicate outer skin.
I want you in my heart, I want you in my love.
It has to be this way.
You have to be the one.
Love is…
All that you could be.
Just open up your arms and your heart and look me in the eyes.
And tell me…
Can you love this void that stands before you?

Goodnight sick puppies.

Captain PirateFace


p.s.

Would you like your site linked here?
Send an e-mail to Captpirateface@aol.com with your site address and info
and a promise to link this piece of shit blog on your site and together we shall make
magic happen!



p.p.s.

R.I.P. Mr. Brown

words tiptoe painfully from my tongue

Tonights post brought to you in....
















The Arcade Fire's "Intervention"

Keys taken
back I throw
The people they all grow
And choose what they want written on their stone
All quiet and alone
You can taste the fear
Lift me up and take me out of here
I know I want to fight I want to die
Just tell me what to say
Working for the church while your family dies
Little baby sister gonna lose her mind
Every spark of friendship and love will die without a hope
Hear the soldiers groan
All quiet and alone
There's something in the air
The people they all sit and stare
And tell me what they point to tell me where
And tell me… Who's gonna throw the very first stone?
Whose gonna re-set the bone?
Sitting with his head in a sling
I hear the soldier sing
Working for the church while your family dies
Little baby sister gonna lose her mind
Every spark of friendship and love will die without a hope
Hear the soldiers groan
All quiet and alone
Sunshine light
Someone teach me how to fly
And onto something for wish I would die, but I just don't know what
Though I can taste the fear
Lift me up and take me out of here
And make it all concisely clear
You know I'm gonna fade
Working for the church while your family dies
Little baby sister gonna lose her mind
Every spark of friendship and love will die without a hope
Hear the soldiers groan
All quiet and alone
Hear the soldiers groan
________________________________________________


I used to enjoy the taste of fear...And then I grew up.
I remember different moments where I wanted to die.
Losing my mind with depression, drinks and drugs.
To escape the being me blues.
I am still an escapist. Not unlike when I was young and stupid.
now that I am older and dumber.
I am not screaming "suicide" or "Drugs!" I am just making a public notice
that even though we grow up and take this fragile life a tad bit more serious,
it's hard to abandon those feelings that ruled us so freely as children.

It's a rough one... maybe the holiday's are sticking the knife in my back.
Maybe I am an over dramatic neurotic.
I wanted to give Ben and Marlena a huge thank you for the brief but highly
enjoyable time we got to spend with them. Whenever you crazy kids go back home
it breaks our hearts but we understand.
I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday.


p.s.

To all those who have picked up the random flyer that has directed you to this
blog, I thank you individually for taking the time to check out an odd blog and
reading my manic ramblings. It means a whole bunch to me, and always feel free
to leave any comment you like. And, I am always open to collaboration.

p.p.s.

The amazing John Giddinge is assisting me in the script writing of a story I
am cooking up, the tentative title thus far is, "The apathetic lover." yes, I know
it is lame... give me time.



_________________________________________________________
and now for tonight's rendition of bad amateurish writing... hehehehe

_________________________________________________________

the cavern where my heart resides

They used to lay with one another.
Close and tangled.
Sometimes with a single hand touching a stomach or shoulder.
Now it’s mostly separate rooms.
With nothing to hold on to while
Drifting off to sleep…
Praying…
Crying…
but a pillow.
He can’t reclaim her heart.
He doesn’t know this woman.
And she threw his heart out long ago.
And you can hear the echo of sob’s in the cavernous soul he now keeps.
Now when he falls asleep he curses his mother and grandmother.
Those fairy tales can’t exist.
Not when he is alone.



A bone yard and a wounded sky

We kept our pain hidden from our lovers for far too long.
We smiled through tears and sobbed in the dark of night.
We lied to anyone who would listen.
We are still lying.
We are a wounded breed that fell from the sky.
We that sift through the bones looking for spare hearts.
We just want to be loved.
And,
There can never be enough for us.
We the gluttons and selfish and eternally needy.
The want has broken our hearts.
And I am starting to believe that we deserve this.
Sitting in dark rooms and loving too much and cutting
away little pieces of our being till the only thing we have left is…
regret.
A pathetic lot we have become.



a series of manic outbursts

What happened when you started slipping? She asked.
I broke her heart and she broke mine and we deserved to
both lay in cold separate beds staring at vacant ceilings praying
for small miracles to make us normal human beings that could
love, fuck, laugh, taste, feel, dance without that little atomic
bomb bursting in our twisted fucked up souls.

As if god would listen.

I remember walking from her house after a screaming match where
neither of us won and collapsing on to the pavement quite dramatically.
And a stranger walked by and said to me, “Get off of your God damned knees boy!”

To my best knowledge she is gone. Now a ghost to shake her head at all my foul ups.
To cry when I am lonely. To scream at the top of her lungs when I almost forget her.
But you cant forget can you?
And I know that you never will.



I don’t know anymore

After the panic loses it’s hold on me.
And, the anger subsides.
And all I am left with is an empty room and my thoughts.
I can hardly contain myself.
I am still so much a boy trapped in this large frame.
My thoughts are poisoned terror and I wound so easily.
The past always laying cold hands on my shoulder, and the future…
Like an open book with every page screaming out “Stop Reading. Go Back.”
I fall in love every day and by night I am always broken hearted.
I am an anomaly.
And I know I should have never came here to begin with.



The fixing of a broke down robot child.

Re-wiring the brain.
Scraping out precious memories.
The way the sunlight looks broken to pieces by
a blocking tree with scattered leaves,
The smell of a cold winter night.
The passionate sidewalk kisses that lasted hours,
Rather than minuets.
Plugging in new batteries and gadgets.
Something to make it shiny and new again.
Upgrades and new programming.
She wont even notice.



The devil makes a friend

The devil takes a liking to a human being.
A simple human being that reads in whispers in libraries.
Reads books by obscure female poets.
Reads books on Goya and cut’s out his favorite pictures.
The devil enjoys these simplicities.
This unaware human being one day ends up sitting next to the devil.
They enjoy small talk and exchange books and Ideas.
Get shushed by the librarian.
The devil enjoys this day more than any the devil has enjoyed in a
very long time.
The library closes and they exchange parting words.
The devil takes this secret back to hell.
And this “human being” feels slightly bad for keeping up his own ruse
this whole time… smiles, places the halo back upon his head and exposes
his wings to the cold night air.
Two secrets in one evening are enough to shake up the world.
And that’s not so bad is it?



I am not afraid

I speak about fear but I am still standing here.
I am still in this mortal coil pounding away on keyboards and
Scratching away in notepads.
I will still be here tomorrow.
No matter what this existence throws at me.



On the stone

I can only imagine.
What my son will have to gaze upon every time he places flowers on my grave.
Will he laugh?
Will he curse me?
Will he do both?
God I hope so.



insanity is a panic button

these silly animals.
Drinking up the pity and pulling out painful monologues.
Ranting and raving in hopes of pity sex or a small reassuring hug.
Watch out for the fakers of the world.
It’s in all of us and we are damn good and convincing.



Mom she is not a whore! She’s an opportunist!

I would like to take a moment to thank all those girls that,
Cheated and lied and broke my heart on many, many occasions.
I defend, applaud and love you all.
The past is in the past and who am I to judge?
I want to thank you all for the phone calls years later…
“John, I wish I could have been right to you… You where the
only one who ever treated me right.”
I wish you all well.
And I thank you for taking part in my life and teaching me humility and pain.
I thank you for your support in showing up in soul baring poetry
without your knowledge or permission.
I thank you all from the very bottom of my heart.
May you live on for eternity trapped in the wicked poetry and prose
I spit out whenever the urge hits.



As the phone sits silent and cold I pray for it to spring to life and hear your voice scream from the receiver that you love me.

We dream big and little dreams.
I am so god damn tired of mine never coming true.
These simple things you could do for me would mend all wounds inside.
Small things that I know you think are petty.
I think they make me smile.
I think they make me love you.
Then again what kind of fool would I be without a foolish dream.



it’s all vicious

I walk a little slow when I have a limp from foot pain
I ramble quite a bit
I like the smell of a beautiful girl when she walks by
Somewhat disturbing is the way they talk to me
I have many secrets that the world knows
I am over dramatic and gloomy
And I am full of erratic passion
My defense mechanism is to joke around
And it works

I still think about her every day
Rainy days are scarce where I live and are that much more precious
My dream machine is broken and hadn’t had a good one till this morning that my wife interrupted

I like the peace, pain and sweet sincerity of Daniel Johnston
I like the war and terror and fear of Alec Empire
I like that quite a few of you have no idea what I am talking about

I know I am over weight but keep hoping to be loved either way
My friends must be sick of building up my ego
A big secret… it makes me glad that they try
I may be addicted to love in all its forms and I don’t want to change that either

I trust to easily
There are quite a few ghosts keeping their eyes on me
Half are on my side cheering my every move
And the other are waiting for me to fail, fall and join them.

I like writing, it keeps me in a sane way… sort of.



mutilation is the new masturbation

Look for scars and cheery faces.
Look for tornados and the maniacs running with arms outspread
for great big hugs at full speed.
Carpet bombs are the new way to say “I love you” and clear the land
for shopping malls that will form your very personality.
We are the next species that will accidentally drown ourselves on rainy days,
With mouths wide open staring up into the rain clouds.
Our answer’s are truths over wrought with lies.
No straight answers.
I jumped out of my skin when you said you still loved me.
Like a thunderclap.
Love is my cancer and you just cant stop administering the pills.
You have to be the one.
I know no other cure.

Friend #1
“She said she loved me and drowned herself in the ocean, what do you make of that”
Friend #2
“Dedication.”



Who ever said that?

Tie me down and pry my mouth open with a tongue kiss.
Cover my eyes and whisper to me.
And when I wake up…
Promise to be gone.


_________________________________________________


goodnight

love...captainpirateface



someday i will be gone but i promise i will never leave you

The More You Know!

along came "The Nothing"... a distant storm (dirt nap)

Sex Crazed
Retard Strong



I wish I had a brain. I wish I was special. No Control.

hello.
I hope the world still spins for you all.
moral is low but expectations are high.
work and working is collectively kicking my ass.
not much news tonight.
enjoyed my chemical romance much more than i thought i would. even though
not my favorite band, they put on one hell of a show.
oh yeah, the title of the new book of poetry and prose is:
"my ghosts suddenly gone after getting used to the haunting".

enjoy the crapola.

love,

captain pirateface


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is a violence we cannot contain

My head aches.
God is flinging bullets into various bones in my body.
Winter is taking my wimpy little soul apart.
A dark deep gloom is pushing me into hearse filled traffic.
I guess I got to thinking too hard again.
Let me just take my finger off this button marked “atomic”
so I can scratch my head and think a while.

I love you! Take me to the sanity!

Clearly I can see clearly when I look at your eyes.
Storm clouds lift and a hazy, almost fuzzy sunshine lights my tiny world.
My flowers no longer stay hidden in bear traps.
My screams have turned to pleasant song and whispers.
Every time I close my eyes, and then open them…
You have yet to run away.

She left a note on the table

Dear John,

Fuck right o ff.

Love, Me


Keep company

The wounded homeless and squatter punks sharing stories about being dead.
Keeping together the small pieces of the fragile mind.
Dark creature eyes stare out from underneath parked cars
and low to cold 2am asphalt streets.
Gravity pulling the soul down into the feet with each heavy step.
Dark circled eyes pretending to be awake while a 18 year old street walker
rubs down hurting shoulders.
Scratching nonsense into nonsense little poems in a beat up journal.
Nobody wins at night.
God rests and the wicked have had their fill.
The rest of us wait patiently for something different,
For something else.

Goodbye little boy, I have failed you.

You wanted things I could never provide.
I fattened you up with drink and took apart your
cheery disposition with drugs and pain.
I lost you in the crowd.
Watching you wave from far away…
Tears in your eyes while wearing your “Superman” suit.
And I am still running from your kindness.
Running from the hope you once had.
If I forgot you then I would forget myself.
And I don’t know if that’s a good thing, or not.
You had the world in your hands kiddo…
Why did you have to grow up…
to be me?

Show me the day….

Meet up in the darkest part of the night.
Hold my hand.
Find some place comfortable and let all those bad thoughts fall out of our heads.
Keep each other company until daybreak.
And you can go home and forget me.
And I will pretend to forget you.

an envelope stuffed with the random thoughts that make up the whole of you.

A photograph of smiles and bright reflective flashbulbs in 110 degree weather of chrome of many colors. Goodbye notes that end with tear stains and small scribbled happy faces and the smell of one perfume and several different colognes. Half done lyrics to some love song that never filled the world with music. Lists of things needed to buy to change to get rid of, lists of men, lists of liquor for holiday parties. Poems written to and about you. Some flattering some heartbreaking some not even worth the ink used to type and write them. Pieces of paper… receipts, bills, business cards and prescriptions never filled… all with the same three words scrawled across them,
“I love you”.

Let me share this music with you.

A tinkle of ivory keys on a beautiful black aged piano.
Bony hands suffering through arthritis
and dry cracked skin.
The ripples in the water glass with every soft execution
of the fingers pressing down the keys.
A small figure outside a low window,
on a cold day turning to dusk,
ear pressed against the glass listening to sounds muffled
and bleeding through.
Something this perfect has to be forbidden somewhere.

and I am still beside you

Rooting on my own flogging.
Begging the executioner for a glimpse of her tools of the trade.
Walking so close as to almost touch hands.
Hinting at cupid to shoot us both dead with love.
Praying for an eclipse of the sun for a moment of unseen trespass
on your neck from my wandering unworthy kiss.
You almost smile but never do.
I always look to you and dream of all that you are.
But in my dreams, I smile…
And you smile right back.

Where did you go?

I can almost feel the absent figures from my life.
Ghosts suddenly vanished after I have gotten used to the haunting.
Reaching out with my fingers spread open feeling for all of you.
I stumble through the day feeling useless and crippled.
I have nothing to lean on and hold me up.
I keep stumbling and falling.
Your all not here to help me up.
And I have a feeling I should try and get used to being without you.
My ghosts whom have abandoned me.

thoughts escape me aloud when my little boy comes to mind

The look in his eyes command me.
Love me and Love for me.
Fight for me.
Win for me.
And all It takes is a glance…
I will be his hero,
Whatever it takes.

Bombs Bursting! People Screaming! Bargain Basement Whores
giving it up for free! What is this madness???

She held and cradled me in her arms.
Safe I was as the world collapsed around us.
The sky bled down into our city and all became a huge mess of horror.
Heaven denying all entry.
Angels colliding mid-air.
She looks at me and kisses my face.
I don’t care what happens next.
And we both continue to smile.

Is anybody really paying attention?

Hollering!
Screaming!
Vocal cords shred and throat bleeding.
Whispering.
Waiting.
One day someone will say:
“This is too much… this thing.”
And collectively they all will start nodding their heads stating,
“I should have known all along.”

"in heaven, everything is fine"
-lady in the radiatior-












g
o
o
d
n
i
g
h
t.

the captain