Monday, April 30, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Where am I?
I just don't know.
Waiting for it again and again...
the night had opened up and swallowed us whole again.
we fought through impenetrable darkness praying for a speck of light.
until I gave up lost in the faint light left in those eyes.
I can't wait to fail you.
to never live up to your expectations.
no two people could love each other more could they?
one final slow dance into oblivion.
more later my amigo's
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
The Arcade Fires "Wake Up"
Somethin' filled up
my heart with nothin',
someone told me not to cry.
But now that I'm older,
my heart's colder,
and I can see that it's a lie.
Children wake up,
hold your mistake up,
before they turn the summer into dust.
If the children don't grow up,
our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up.
We're just a million little god's causin rain storms turnin' every good thing to rust.
I guess we'll just have to adjust.
With my lighnin' bolts a glowin'
I can see where I am goin' to be
when the reaper he reaches and touches my hand.
With my lighnin' bolts a glowin' I can see where I am goin’
With my lighnin' bolts a glowin' I can see where I am go-goin’
You'd better look out below
Hello small time crooks and masked adventurers!!! My life (at least today) is completely fucked up! YEAH! But you know what....
"AT LEAST I'M NOT DEAD!!!"
so yeah things just suck.... but, I am on prescription pain medication, listening to fasmatasmic bands (Arcade Fire, The Dead Science, Bright Eyes, Nine Inch Nails and Queens of the Stone Age..to name a few) on my headphones. And I am drinking an Albertson's brand "Max Cola". And I can glance over my shoulder while writing and see the amazing little sleep face of my amazing little boy...Gabriel. So... Life could be worse.
I finally got some "Feedback" on my little zine of doom... it reads:
Well... in most cases it's optimistic to plan ahead, anyway... Sorry, hi. You don't know me, but I found your 'zine in the middle of a magazine at Zia, and it really made my day. I love "found objects", but it's been forever since I've seen a good old-fashioned, handmade zine- tiny as though it may be. As soon as I saw the photo from "Wings of Desire" (one of my very favorite, most life-changing movies) I knew I was in for a treat. So I just wanted to let you know someone found it, and enjoyed it a whole lot.
Thank You so very much for the feedback... it turned a dreary evening into one of... Heck Yeah!
And.... speaking of my zine of doom...
I just finished the "May" issue and it is being cut and readied to be forced upon the unsuspecting masses of sin city.
Here are the scanned pages for those of you who want to sneak a peak.
(NOTE: All the poems in the zine will always be crap you may have already read here.)
I was thinking the other day (imagine that?) while listening to The Arcade Fire's song, "Neighborhood #1 (tunnels)" off the album Funeral, about the most comfortable room any of my friends had... I concluded with two rooms.. #2 being that of my x-girlfriends, Michele Pinaud. Her room was always very clean with random charcoal drawings scattered on the floor or pinned to a wall. Her bed was a very comfortable mattress on the floor. And a small TV, to my recollection I can't recall any other details except it always smelled of patchouli and I could easily fall asleep there. #1 has to be an old friend of mine by the name of Callie Ann Redd. (Which has changed to what I don't know as she is now married and we fell out of touch.) She was a very kind hearted girl with an equally kind hearted family. The whole family was inviting and you could find yourself in a sincere, laugh out loud conversation with any of her family (mom,dad,brothers or any of the Redd's frequent visiting guests) before getting to her bedroom. The house always smelled like baked treat's and would infiltrate every room. Her room, in some ways was very typical of a teenage girl... Lot's of Blink 182 posters... But it was always clean and inviting... six people could comfortably sit on the floor. But the highlight was her ceiling. Many a late night, me and Bobby Nelson and/or Chris Gidinge would go to her her house and lay on her floor talking late into the night while a very soft "Enya" would be on the CD player, looking up at the hundred or so glow in the dark stars on her ceiling. What a magical place that young ladies bedroom was. She grew up to be a teacher and though we have lost touch... I am sure she is still bringing her own brand of her and her family's pleasant demeanor to a generation of kids that badly need the kindness. Below are the lyrics to the Arcade Fire song that took me away into the past...
Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)
And if the snow buries my,
And if my parents are crying
then I'll dig a tunnel from my window to yours,
yeah a tunnel from my window to yours.
You climb out the chimney and meet me in the middle,
the middle of the town.
And since there's no one else around,
we let our hair grow long and forget all we used to know,
then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow.
You change all the lead
sleepin' in my head,
as the day grows dim
hear you sing a golden hymn.
Then we tried to name our babies,
but we forgot all the names that,
the names we used to know.
we remember our bedrooms,
and our parent's bedrooms,
and the bedrooms of our friends.
Then we think of our parents,
well what the hell ever happened to them?!
You change all the lead
sleepin' in my head to gold,
as the day grows dim,
I hear you sing a golden hymn,
the song I've been trying to sing.
Purify the colors, purify my mind.
Purify the colors, purify my mind,
and spread the ashes of the colors in this heart of mine.
so here is some new stuff, enjoy or hate immensely.....
Still inside this fat head (locked in with the doom bots)
Taking the anger out on the broken air conditioning unit stuck into a fleshy part of the brain that somebody, I forget whom... said wasn't being used for anything... useful.
Visible scars from running full speed into the skull.
Want to crawl out the eye socket but feel that it may be a little too malicious.
Anyhow these damn robot's that resemble Dr. Doom usually attack before I can even try a plan that has any hint of actually working.
Then again this overly sexual no pantie's wearing shrink is telling me it's all in my head.
No fucking Duh.
I start to draw out my new plans of escape on a Cheeseburger wrapper and I feel a jolt of electricity from the Doom Bots.....
I close my eyes hard and pretend I am sitting at home after ogling the somewhat attractive shrink who kept crossing and uncrossing her legs in a blatant "Basic Instinct" rip off.
I put the pill into my mouth and drink a gulp of water.
I put another pill into my mouth and drink a gulp of water.
I open my eyes and the brain box room is closing in... collapsing.
My Doom Bots explode....
The room is blurring....
Oh God, What have I done?
I love her.
She doesn't even "like" me.
Such is all the love I have ever been given.
All that fall in love end up hating me.
It must be something I said. all the time. to all of them.
I open the door into the night.
The only welcome feeling these days and nights are that of being alone.
I sit for prolonged silences in my automobile searching for answers.
Finding that there is never an answer.
Weeping like a child to sad songs, made even more distressing by the listeners problems.
And then it's a day of false smiles and small preachings to try and save someone else the grief of ever having to be.....
Working while my life falls apart.
One day I will surprise everyone.
Terror and Screams (we are killing innocence damn it!)
The echo's of hate bounce and tear the walls apart.
Little children die inside as harsh words kill the best parts of little souls.
The sky grows dark over the heated screaming faces.
Maybe they will drop dead mid-sentence.
God Will's nothing...
Just sits back and watches his creation go to shit.
And when they silence follows...
The pain hangs heavy in the air in dark storm clouds raining down tears...
It's to late to forgive and forget.
And I am tired of praying to empty skies and thin air.
Aren't we all?
The feeling of consuming your own soul in a desperate bid to be human again.
Like a rude baptism...
Walk into the ocean, naked and calm.
Sand swallowing the feet and the chill of cold water lapping against the legs,
sends shivers through the body.
Reminding the body it is alive.
Falling face first into the ocean.
Tasting salt water and,
The burn as it seduces open sores and injuries.
Emerging from the darkness, screaming into the even colder night.
Pretending there is a soul,
with tears streaming down the horrible twisted features of the thing they once called a face. There are no real tears here...
just the burning of the salt water in the eyes.
Smile, just this one time.
They gave a hundred thousand reasons why.
None of them made sense... computed into my numb brain.
Nothing ever could again...
I was beaten.
I had given up.
no more humor, no more anything.
well, there is one thing.
my greatest accomplishment.
and I look over late at night to watch him sleep and he takes me by surprise.
Sitting up in bed half asleep he looks at me and smiles...
Perfection in one look and two words...
I smile and say,
Hope we can all get through this world, this lifetime, these love lives...
In one piece... Together.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Things to do before I die (in regards to funeral arrangements):
1. Hand pick music for the funeral and wake to illicit laughs and heighten certain moods.
2. Write ironic goodbye letter, nothing is as eerie as a last word from beyond the grave.
3. Cremated with a small stone (marker) with 1/3 of my ash's, the rest scattered into the ocean.
4. Have a program written out for wake activities, (i.e. what games should be played - What movies should be on in the background of non-music rooms, etc...)
5. All instructions will be handled and carried out by Frank Cadden and my Son, Gabriel (as long as he is old enough to assist, as in adult)
So, things are ______. Can't really put my finger on it. The days are dramatically different and emotionally trying. But, hell... I am alive right? I haven't given in to the black wave, have I?
I will tough it up.
Had a few revelations last night and for now I am gonna clam up and keep most of them to myself. For once.
soon will be some poems of the poetry persuasion.::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Saturday, April 21, 2007
if i did not have my son, i would be over with....
i wish i had more to life but he is all i need.
one day he will leave me to.
i cant stand this anymore and i do not know what to do...
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
So, My tired ass was supposed to see Electric Six tonight at the Beauty Bar, I decided not to go when I couldn't find one single person to go and hang out with me.
Hopefully Electric Six will be back.
Reliving dangerous old memories
can't keep driving this fat body tonight...
Let me in.
this one is not budging.
I have lost all will and have walked away from you for the thousandth time...
With each step becoming heavier and heavier...
Your special brand of witchcraft has killed me.
Now it's just me and the rest of these "clever" ghosts.
Spouting off new testament and bad poetry...
like it's going out of style.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Today (April 16Th 2007) I am 27 years old.
To quote "The Vandals" in the song... "Happy Birthday to me..."
"It's my Birthday and I 'll do what I want to... Fuck you it's my Birthday."
A tad older-a lot more complications-another insect on planet earth given one more damn day,
The Vandals-Happy Birthday to me
It's my birthday and I'll do what I want to
Fuck you it's my birthday.
A special holiday only for me, so do what I say,
it's my party, I'll make you cry if I want to...or leave.
Fuck you, it's not your birthday, so do what I say.
For 24 hours you're wishing me well
364 days I'm in hell, Oh well.
Happy Birthday to me.
alone on my Birthday, I'm going to Denny's 10 times today
No Tip! it's my birthday, so do what I say
Thanks mom didn't have an abortion or my birthday wouldn't be today
but i guess it's my good fortune my birthday's today
For 24 hours you're wishing me well
364 days I'm in hell, oh well
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME (spank me)
oh well HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME
I can't believe you forgot my birthday
it's my birthday and you're wrecking it now
it's just like any other day you didn't do what I say
How could you forget my birthday?
That's really immature... FUCK YOU
for forgetting my birthday
you didn't do what i say today
24 hours no wishing well
now 365 days I'm in Hell, Oh well.
Happy Birthday to me.
HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME
Happy Birthday to me!!!
How can you save me when you can't save yourself?
"nothing can save
it keeps the walls
— Charles Bukowski
it keeps the walls
— Charles Bukowski