The best thing about life, Is knowing you put it together

"They look like big strong hands... don't they?"

Water rolls down the skin like tiny beads..
Eyes close so that they might see.
Illum tangendo (touching him)
This sun is a star in someone else's sky
Illum tangendo (touching him)
This moon is making someone cry...
Illum tangendo (touching him)

Captain PirateFace say's "Ahoy!"

Captain PirateFace say's "Ahoy!"
Updated by, Captain PirateFace

This is not an Exit

Never Say Die!!!





























"the tigers have found me
and I do not care."

Charles Bukowski



there is no fear here

there is no fear here
there is a fear here

Sunday, February 11, 2007

smelling static in the air... tasting the iron...






how can one go from this...

to this?

I know the answer and it just makes me damn sad...










________________________________________

I cant begin to say I am sorry enough... but it always sounds the same doesn't it?

__________________________________________________________

a fire inside and an ocean just out of our reach.

They told us we would burn from the inside.
I can feel my guts turn and boil.
little explosions of organs popping inside of me.
They say that when you are cremated that the heart is the hardest to get to burn??
Maybe God provides the soul but...
The Devil provides the heart.
Who knows?
My knees shake and I am unable to walk anymore...
thirty feet from the beach.
I watch the waves crash upon the shore and close my eyes...
I pray that everyone watching me die does the same.


Who will save us?

I don' think heralding angels with trumpets blaring will collect us up and deliver us
to a fairy tale heaven.
I have a hard time believing some mighty God or Goddess will come along and purify all the gloom and doubt and evil and heartache.
I know you wont get up and walk over, embrace me and kiss my face...
I have a better chance at God's and angel's.
And we damn well know there is no saving ourselves.
Guess it's time to except the fact and the fate that we are stuck in eternal struggle...
tonight...
your first drink is on me...
best I can do.


My friend Chris.

This son of a bitch has survived.
Religion and war and family and friends.
He is unscathed and hopeful.
He hands out pride and purpose to all he meets.
He tells me it was I who inspired him first.
I say it was he that inspired me.
We argue this the rest of our lives.
We are brothers in every sense of the word despite having different parents.
He is the loner.
I am the loner.
Both black sheep and favorite all at once.
His goodness and light balance out my not-so-goodness and darkness.
In a way we are Yin and Yang.
The thing that separates us is...
if you are sad,
I will cry with you...
Chris....
Will buy you a milkshake and pull you out into the world to explore
(trust me on this one.... I know)
He is at once my older brother and younger brother, age matters not.
And there is a brotherly love there that cannot be broken.


This one's for you

You look to see which one could be about you.
Or reference you.
This is one of them.
I found one of the pictures of you...
that I destroyed.
I look at it and wish that I hadn't been such a damn fool.
But that's my lot in life isn't it?
You took the air right out of me...
with just a look, or a gesture...
You had my attention.
Those eyes haunt me to this day.
That soft touch.
And then you broke my heart.
And then we took turns breaking each other's hearts.
Now that momentary perfect love floats like an unhinged ghost out there in the darkness...
Begging for things our rational minds will never piece together.
I am still here thinking of you...
but you already knew that... didn't you?


This lunatic night makes cowards into savages and the heartbroken into ghosts

Cue the accordion music.
The flaming trash cans and the shrouded maniacs with gloves held out over the flames with the fingers cut off.
See the girl leaping to her death and Japanese tourists surround the broken body flashbulbs exploding as the little Asian girls in their school outfit kneel down, smiling with imperfect teeth and flashing a peace sign.
Hear the screams from an open window that scares and old woman so badly she tears out her remaining hair on her head, while her husband sits on his recliner unamused but thinking to himself that the screams could be that of death or an intense orgasm.
Feel the blood run cold as men in business attire attack random people walking out of a bar for yuppies, screaming words of hate like "Nigger" and "Kike" though the people they are attacking are white and not known to be practicing Jews.
Tremble as a broken hearted man tears out bad poetry, dropping it onto the street behind him as he walks aimlessly sobbing with every step. While unknown to him a group of three girls follow behind picking up the discarded poems reading them and falling deeply in love with this sorrowful man.
The same night almost every person turns off their television to watch the great forest fire slowly creep up on their town, while staring off into the distance not really caring if the fire destroys their town or not.
Little boys prank call little girls,
Little girls listen to their daddy beat their mommy.
And mommy runs off with the pizza boy and brings home a large pizza and a newly planted little brother (or sister) that will be making an appearance in about nine months.
Last but not least the town DJ puts on his favorite song "Gloomy Sunday" and puts a bullet through his brain...
the song plays all night long and not one person phone's in to complain.


Ice cream sandwich and locked doors.

It starts with an ice cream sandwich.
And grandma sends you outside to play in the backyard, locking the door once you have gotten outside.
AN hour later the milkman finally leaves and whistles the whole way down to his truck from the front door.
Grandma opens the door and says "Are you ever coming back in or what?"
She hands you another ice cream sandwich.
Oh the joy of being bribed.








Goodnight...

Captain PirateFace

No comments:

How can you save me when you can't save yourself?

"nothing can save
you
except
writing.
it keeps the walls
from
failing."

Charles Bukowski