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

The Captain

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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

Friday, July 27, 2007

following the darkness

" A man walks down the street
He says why am I soft in the middle now
Why am I soft in the middle
The rest of my life is so hard
I need a photo-opportunity
I want a shot at redemption
Don't want to end up a cartoon
In a cartoon graveyard
Bonedigger Bonedigger
Dogs in the moonlight
Far away my well-lit door
Mr. Beerbelly Beerbelly
Get these mutts away from me
You know I don't find this stuff amusing anymore"

-Paul Simon- "You can call me Al"

Thursday, July 26, 2007

no fight left in this bloated body...

my mom's cat, sassy is dying as I type this.
My Grandmother is pretty sure her kidney's are giving out.
My mom is bringing her to the vet in the morning... most likely, Sassy will be put down.
I have known sassy since I was in 8th grade.

My wife is mad at me for getting home late. I had to work a half hour extra and then I went to see my Mom and say goodbye to Sassy. But I didn't... say goodbye that is.
I did not want to see her in that way.
My wife does not care that Sassy is dying.
Maybe she usually would but tonight all she cares about is hating me.
Which I guess I deserve because I am a motherfucker.

Anyhow, sorry no updates as of late. Life has just been kicking my ever loving ass.
I hope you are all well and you will see some more crap tomorrow.

I am listening to an outstanding mix of ambient and mellow muzik.

1. Mogwai - Auto Rock
2. Nine Inch Nails (Featuring vocals by Stella Soleil) - A warm place
4. The Beatniks - Une Femme N'est Pas Un Homme (Aphex Twin Mix)
5. Aphex Twin - IZ-US
6. The Postal Service - Such great heights
7. Aphex Twin - Hexagon
8. Nine Inch Nails - Adrift and at peace
9. Mogwai - Tracy
10. Nine Inch Nails/Aphex Twin - The Beauty of being numb
11. Nine Inch Nails - A warm place
12. Jon Brion - Phone Call
13. The Postal Service - Natural Anthem
14. Explosions in the sky - Our Last Days As Children
15. Jon Brion - Theme from "Eternal Sunshine of the spotless mind"
16. Clint Mansell - Requiem for a dream
17. The Arcade Fire - Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)
18. Dntel - Roll On (Ft. Jenny Lewis) (DTAS)
19. A whisper in the noise - The Times They Are A-Changin'
20. Brian Eno - An Ending (Ascent) from the film "28 Days Later"

here are a few poems...

p.s. Do you like the slightly different new look of the blog?


_
_
_


The Destruction of the human spirit

a man ceases to be man...
when the job becomes oppressive.
The supervisors...
cruel.
But man needs to live.
Man needs to put food on the table to feed his family.
A man must provide shelter...
warmth from the cold
and
shade from the sun.
Man sacrifices his soul.
Personality.
Youth.
Love of life...
to provide and give such things.
The kicker is,
nobody notices.
nobody cares.
Even man himself is starting too ignore cruel fate...
starting not to notice, not to care.
There can be no saving the minimalist savior.
He walks slowly towards lifes final reward...
quiet death.



Addiction

like this pathetic intoxication a moth must feel,
as it dry humps a burning lightbulb...
fucking itself out of exsistence in the desperate need for illumination.
I am an addict.
For the love I have tasted but you refuse to give.
For the wine that returns the kiss by lovingly burning my throat.
For the little white pills that take reality and tip it ever so slightly on its side.
I am failing again at being a human...
at playing this game of humanity.

They say I won't let anybody in....
Hell, I'm not even home.


*
Blowing me goodbye kisses...

The look of tragedy is deep set in your eyes.
The worry lines are forever carved in your once youthful face...
but the beauty remains.
Those final words spent on me are pure poison.
You never even tried to forgive me.
I walk away, as I have done a thousand times before...
breaking your heart every time, all over again.
You blow me a goodbye kiss and I wonder to myself...
Which will reach me first?
The goodbye kiss or the bullet just shot from your gun?
I turn around arms out anticipating both.
Equally deadly... I embrace.
The last thing I see is you walking away... no tear stained face.
Just your back as you leave.
Giving back what I had done to you a thousand times before.

*
Goodnight lunatics.

I love you all.

Captain PirateFace














































i wish we weren't such bastards to one another all the time. we are becoming horrible people and it is killing us both...

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Twiddling my God damn thumbs.


keep it clever, So in trying to stay with that.... short and sweet tonight amigo's.



A desire and a dream... you and I on a night train baby.


As we veer off into the darkness.

Having let the steering wheel go hours before.
I swear in these moments I can smell the perfume on you.

I can almost hear the music in your laugh.

My skeleton shivers and desperately yearns to climb out of this fat body
and go running off into the night.

But my heart and soul emotionally decline.
I keep a small photograph of you in my back pocket, your head torn off at the neck.

Which is OK, because the day you climbed into that photo booth your hair and smile had
been perfect but your dress had been horrendous and tacky.

These days I find it so damn easy to lose control.

So easy to let go of the steering wheel.

When did you become that little lucid dream just out of my reach?

I have failed you yet again...

as the car careens into a ditch and my skeleton finally sees it's wish come true.










Goodnight,


Captain PirateFace















`````````````````````````````````````````

Sunday, July 15, 2007

A visit from God? Who is that fella anyhow?

















For my old friend Sheri, who came up with the title for the poem below....

When life turns around

So often the madness had set in.
So often the nights crying in bed softly as to not wake up the world.
And so often... lost in thought while the job suffers.
You grew up for this?
You counted the days in youth for an adulthood of pain and suffering?
This joke we call life.
But sometimes we luck out.
Sometimes we get sick of the pain in the stomach.
Sometimes instead of falling on our face, we avoid the fall altogether.
When life turns around, those precious tears will be reserved for heartfelt moments, laughter so hard it hurts and a tear jerker in the movie theater.
The sunrise will remind you that you made it to another God damn day.
And for once that is a good thing.
Too many of us wait in the shadows, in the darkness we have created for that moment.
I have seen it come for many and pray to whatever God will listen...
That one day it will find it's way to me as well.
I just hope that moment does not pass me by.

_______________________________________________________________

Now most of you know for a fact that I am "not" a spiritual man. But the poem title that my friend Sheri sent me screamed for a little absolution. I mean, Christ... I think I am due to write at least a few poems about redemption. Things don't have to be sadness and pain at "every" moment... You need not worry, I am a pro now at writing about the flipped coin aspect to that. The losing and the failure.... If they gave out awards I would be recipient. I just didn't want that feeling tonight is all.
If you don't like it...

well...

do some soul searching....

and "Fuck right off"....

HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Goodnight

Captain PirateFace


P to the S.

Friends, Family, And bitter Enemies...
Please keep the poem titles coming as I am having a damn ball with them.

Rock and Roll.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

Dorothy had a whore corner at the Emerald City in OZ.


Leave The Light On by Lagwagon

So please leave the light on after you've gone
Leave the pictures in their aging frames where they belong
Leave the bed sheets unclean, and they will reek of you still
Cover me in resolve

So please leave the imagery
I can twist it
Dissociation and obsession
Superstition and pain
I can carry them on too,
Bury you once again

If I could bring this memory to life
[I'd apologize]
I'd live to make you say what they can't
[I would make amends]
They'd all love to have you back but...
I'd give anything to bring you back to say goodbye
___________________________________________________________________

As I type I am listening to an amazing song by Land of the Loops called " I confess ". Go steal it now...if you can find it. As I write I am letting Xanax lull me to sleep. So the writing may suddenly go all, "FUCKED UP!". or not...
Glad it's Friday night. But people are mad at me again as I am a constant fuck up. So what's new right? Today I felt pretty good as I know I have a best friend for life by the name of, Gabriel (My beautiful little boy). We are just great pals. We have tons of fun together and not a single rough thought enters my gigantic head when he and I are together. That kid is pure magic.
Now blaring through the headphones is The Violent Femmes song "Please do not go".
no more shuffle, I think I will stick with these bastards and get ready for a little "Kiss off".
"They'll hurt me bad but I wont mind. They'll hurt me bad, they do it all the time."..great lyrics from the aforementioned song.
Mr. Blond Versus Captain Spaulding? With Guns... Mr. Blond. With hands and/or other weapons my $ is on The Good Ol' Captain. Why I bring this up? Who the hell knows for sure.
My wife said a pretty rough statement tonight... I think I may have deserved it.
She said: "You are only interested in people when they are interested in you. But when they find out what your really like and lose interest you just cut off completely"...... Ouch!
Does that mean I suck because I don't stick with people when they find out I suck?
Or, Does it mean I don't try to be a better person and live up to the image I project when I am revealed to be a fraud? Or does it just mean I am a shitty person regardless? That sucks.
Anyhow, I have felt this way for some time, but it still hurts to hear the love of your life validate it. Well as I say, no worries... such is life eh?
Shit... it's human to suffer and even more human to bring that shit down on yourself...
am I right?
I want some charcoal and oil pastels so I can pretend to be an artist for a few hours... even though I am having a tough ass time being a friggin' poet.
I got two poem titles to work on tonight from some readers. One from the amazing, and darn tootin' sexy (sorry ladies he is MARRIED), Ben Hall of www.Blueskycomics.com. And one from my cousin Glenda who is a legit "Suicide Girl" model... and I think that is rad and scares me all at once as I have no desire to see one of my "baby" cousins, semi to fully nude. Yikes.
So this week as a whole besides swimming in the Apartment pool with my best pal, Gabriel and working, as a whole it's been quiet and boring. So... Fuck all this rambling and on with the poem's.... Like I said in the last "Blog" Send me a poetry title (Raw or Gentle or Mean Spirited... Fuck! Any weird as title you like) and I will destroy it's integrity with a insta-poem! Yay!

On with the tragic comic's self gratifying play on words!



Poem title by: Ben Hall
"The words of confusion"
Words by: Captain PirateFace

She looked at me and spoke.
God damn it these moments are happening more often now than not.
She speaks and looks angry and I have no clue what she is saying.
And it's not like a hearing loss issue either.
She speaks and it comes out like...
like.... the adults sounded in the Charlie Brown cartoons..
"Bwah Bwah, Bwah Bwah Bwah Bwah!"
I shake my head in confusion and she slaps me and leaves the room.
I chase after her telling her I just could not understand what she was trying to say.
She looks back and yells out a final "BWAH!" and gets in the car and drives off.
And I think to myself... "Christ... There has to be some kind of pill to fix this... right?"


Poem Title By: My “little” cousin Glenda
“fatboy eats foot”
Words by: Captain PirateFace

The theory was how much is "Too many drugs"?
The hardest thing for a chubby boy like him in High School besides the "Chubby" issue is that he had in place of where his left leg should be, a wooden peg leg.
The pirate jokes got old quick.
But he couldn't really blame them...
His mother had caught him many times standing bare chested in torn shorts looking in the mirror with an eye patch on yelling "Aaaaaaaaaaaaarg Mateys! Walk that plank land lover!"
So back to the question, How much is too many drugs.
All it took our boy to gnaw his own foot off....
A tab of acid... that had really been just your average postal stamp.
And damn if you don't feel a little silly after having a fake bad trip and gnaw your foot off in a lunatic crazed fit brought on by a placebo and a little bit of hunger.
But he had thought to himself...
"Now I have an icebreaker at the bar when I grow up and try to pick up the drunk chicks."
Some of us dream big... and some of us dream in nightmares.


Why are the troublemakers always the saddest?

I walk and my soul drags behind.
A gentle breeze like the breath of a small child blowing out candles...
Sends my weak and tired soul tumbling to the ground.
And I don't notice a thing and keep walking on.
Ready for a new feeling since I have worn these out beyond recognition.
I want the feeling of kissing a sobbing face.
I want the feeling of a rainstorm in the desert, feeling the rain on my tired closed eyes.
I want the feeling of being missed.
I miss me, the old me.
I wish I had the skill to sit at a piano and play sad songs.
Sad songs and glass after glass of cheap wine.
My dreams are cheap.
And nearly every time I cast one of my many demons out...
a more sinister rotten one takes it's place.
Giving me such charming new ways of hurting the ones I love.
It's a car crash.



Move these memories

The night opened up and snatched the sanity from the girls I was to ever fall in love with.
What a God damn wicked moon to allow such a heist.
Guess there was a meeting I was not prithee to.
Must of figures if I was half crazy they may need to be full crazy.
And like the infamous Wolf-Man... The curse keeps on.




FUCK! That's all I got tonight...
As I was falling asleep I had the love of my life wake me up in the most romantic of way's....
FIGHTING WITH ME! FUCK YEAH I LOVE THIS SPECIAL LIFE!




Goodnight and good fucking luck to us all.

Captain PirateFace

Sunday, July 08, 2007

leading me to my cliff....


I want to eat the brains of every bastard who has given me a crooked look!
(That includes you momma!)
I forgot you all.
Will somebody come along and save me from myself?
Save me.
Save me.
I am dying. Killing myself?
Mercy Killing?
HA.

Sex? Nope.
One brain is diseased and rotting and on display for all you bastards to poke at and comment on the sick fuck.
Creepy fat bastard... John Robison.
Captain PirateFace.... it sounds like he lives in fantasy too often.
Like a goon.
My mind is made up, I stay confused.
Help me.
How many God damn secret messages do I have to put out there?
The time is running out...
it's cold.
Well then, Panic attack anyone? As Hunter S. Thompson wrote...
"This won't hurt"
But it does! Every day! I want God or Jesus or Buddha or Allah or whatever to come to me and say "You know what Asshole... Stop being so negative."
Yeah Right.
I am causing accidents.
I have lost track of the moon tonight, I think it must have given up.
I am losing my nerve. I just want to win. To be the winner.
My God, I can barley make heads or tails of these moods anymore.

And that is life...

such.......... is life.

_______________________________________________________



So, What should I be when I grow the fuck up? eh?
Let's have a game. You "Loyal" readers (I think I am up to three now) send me in a title for a poem and I will destroy the creative aspect of the title by writing it's accompanying poem. E-mail @ CaptPirateFace@aol.com.
_______________________________________________________

and now for some shite...


Highway

To that place where the doors lay down dead at the feet,
never to open or close again.

Just the longest stretch of highway, as far as my failing vision can see.
Cracked asphalt... more recognized as Battle Scars.

And this road has tasted blood.

We are one in the same.

Going nowhere.

Scarred and the taste of blood a constant.

As the sun burns and the rain falls.
Tumbleweeds tumble gently across the beaten and worn heart.



____________________________________________________________________
July 11th 2007. Some recent "strange" things I have viewed....

The other day while driving out of a McDonald's parking lot, I glanced over at a poorly lit bus stop and spotted a prostitute having sex with an elderly African American homeless man. She was sitting on his lap with her dress hiked up facing forward and rocking back and forth... yeah, pretty nasty and disturbing.


Today, Las Vegas had five whole minuets of rain. After two of said five minuets I saw an old man eat it right in front of me on a dinky little scooter. The streets in Vegas are very slick when it rains, obviously this old man had no indication of such things. I stayed behind him and got ready to get out of the car to help, putting myself in park and turning my hazard lights on. But he quickly picked himself and his shitty little scooter up and started driving off. I pulled up next to him at the next light and asked if he was alright... He mumbled something and all I heard was the word "Fuckin'".

Also today, At the school I am working at for summer school I decided to go outside and check out an area I don't regularly patrol and found myself staring at a wall with millions, and I do mean "Millions" of ants. This wall was about two hundred feet long as it was the exterior wall to a side of the school and every bit of wall had millions of ants on it. As I looked on in disgust I looked down to see hundreds of the little bastards on my shoes and scaling up my legs. Of course I did the mature thing and panicked. Pulling off my shoes and dousing my legs with the water in my water bottle. And the craptacular part was I still was too late in getting the ants off and was bitten a few hundred times on both legs and ankles................ yay.

____________________________________________________________________

"You've just seen a prince walk by. A fine, Troubled prince. A Hard working, unappreciated prince. A pal, you understand? A good companion. Always for his boys."
-Biff, in reference to his father, the doomed salesman in "Death of A Salesman". Also my favorite line in the play (written by Arthur Miller).-



Here is some more shite.


The left hook from God

I started out with an almost formal complaint.
And suddenly as fast as one can stand I was on my back.
The world had grown quickly black and I could do nothing and move nothing.

I lay there for almost an eternity and finally found the strength to stand.

Wiping the blood from my mouth and nose...

I raised both hands, tightened into balled fists to the heavens and shouted...

"Is that the best you can do?!?!?!"

The fear had left me and I stood ready for another explosion of force.

But it never came.
I turned to walk away.

The waves in the ocean had ceased to be.

The clouds sat still in the middle of the blue sky.

I smiled, it was the only argument I had ever won...

even if it was a damn "give".


The sounds have become mute and the hearts are heavy and cold.


The music had died.

No more hiding emotion in a musical embrace.

No more sad songs creating sad eyes and sad, sad tears.

This poetry has been drying up for some time...

and if there could have been any music in any of those sickly little lines of verse...
It faded the second the words leaped from the soul.

The world fell out of love.

The faces trudged along sad and mute staring at the other passing face's
and quickly turning away.

Ashamed of what we could never be again.

Our hearts with it's rhythm, lost the beat and warmth.

Leaving it cold and lacking the changing beat it had perfected.

No more quick beats of passion.

No more slow beats of soft embrace.

Just a lump in our throats.

Begging to be slit.



A Viking funeral.

I may have lived the life of a coward.

But, I want to go out a man.

Launch my remains to the sea in a small boat with tinder ready for burn.

Let my son fire the flaming arrow that will ignite my passage into the other realm.

Bang sword and ax against shield and drink heavy.

I guess the lack of sleep is really getting to me?



stale taste

The dark nights are getting longer.

The wine has lost it's scent and the taste is stale and dead.

I almost beg for your comforts.
Can you hear me?

Can you feel me through these solid walls?

I am calling out to you and the echo is almost deafening.
I miss you kiddo.

I wish you could see that.

I wish you could look past this man you claim is the embodiment of mistake.

In these eyes, is the boy you fell for.

Past this fat man's face.

I know it's a damn hard look.

I have been to the mirror and I still am on the search.

I know the words "I love you" have lost a lot of weight.
But beyond the ease of just "saying" them...

I hope one day again...
you can feel them.


Fresh faced and ready for action


We rock the night away listening to the hits of "P.M. Dawn".

And crack open a beer for good measure.

The train pulls up and we grab our gear.

Grab our elephant gun's.

I miss this train on purpose.

As the heat is getting to me and I have a horrible poem to write.

Loving love and loving pain for the sake of finding a love I can truly call my own.

Get that?

Well, once you do.. clue me in as I am not too bright these day's.







Goodnight and I swear next time less drama and more fun.



Captain PirateFace




Thursday, July 05, 2007

if you walk away, I'll walk away.


Ahoy Scallywags,
Captain PirateFace here with more tedious bullshit for you to pretend to enjoy!









so.......
so, so, so.....
4th of July....... Fucking Sucked.
No Fireworks and my little man (my son, Gabriel) is in Pahrump with my mother in-law.
No offense to her at all, but I am so damn sad I didn't keep him here.
It should have been me and him.
Him watching his crazy dad light fireworks and run away screaming all for his 3 year old enjoyment... translation: I missed him tonight like crazy.
Never again will I be separated from my boy on a holiday. Never.
_
No energy left tonight yo......

here be some demons needing chased off somethin' fierce.




That night we cut our throats and let our souls climb out to freedom

what a fascinating view we had...
our heads hanging back like a pez dispenser.
My Soul was grinning like a wild devil.
Yours just looked bored.
Grabbing my hair I pulled my head up and straight as I possibly could
and waved goodbye with my other hand...
As those two souls went screaming like lunatics into the night.
I remember wondering if they would come back or not?
And after night after night of watching and waiting, I gave up.
I thought to myself...
"I hope they are doing better than we had ever done for them".
And I am almost positive that it was true.


Just a short one tonight folks.

See you later salamander.

Captain PirateFace

-Oh YEAH! Tonight it's been a musical choice of "Lagwagon".
Mostly the albums. "Hoss", "Double Plaidnum", "Lets talk about feelings" and "Resolve">
-All full of excellent songs-

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