Sunday, August 12, 2007
He stepped up to the mirror feeling brave and realized his soul had abandoned him years ago...
Mommy?... Daddy?... Why wasn't I aborted?
As the last bit of sunlight touched my skin, warming it ever so slightly I almost felt guilty...
I almost enjoyed a moment. As the days dig deeper into the skin I have worked
so hard for years to make near impenetrable, I come to expect the worst.
When I walk I look down at my feet.
I yearn for the day I can stand like a man again.
To think I used to have hope. Hope is a damn fool's bedtime story.
But I am being narcissistic at best right now.
It's not day in and day out of dramatic inner dialogue.
I have become well known in the small group of people that put up with me as a checkerboard personality.
Ray of sunshine and then, crashing dark thunderstorm's.
Breath in and hold......................................................................................................................................
Don't ask me how I feel about you today as either answer will just get under your skin.
I fucking hate you.
I fucking love you.
Please love me...... Somebody?
Clear, cold and beauteous.
As the primitive yell breaks out beyond the stratosphere...
The sun gets it's first cold chill.
Two lover's (whom most will call lunatics) smile and fall deeply into
the hypnotic void of each other's stare.
And somebody watching these event's unfold from a lonely couch late at night,
takes the remote control and rewinds... plays.
again and again and again.
It's the closest they will ever come to real love and they know it.
The moon outside lights up the world in a pale soft light that creates breathtaking,
barely visible shadows of the two of us embraced.
And despite our ship sinking, those love lorn shadows will hang on that wall like the shadow remains at Hiroshima and Nagasaki...
Even with the two of us entwined at the bottom of the sea.
One day the world will be perfection again.
The romantics and psychotics...
The artist and the poet...
will wrestle back control of the God Machine.
And push the big red button marked, "Don't you dare!"
The Archangel Gabriel will come and give us our heads up by blowing his horn.
Humanity will have the chance to get back to basics.
Crawling on all fours with the beasts... scratching and cutting our fat over privileged bellies.
As the world devastates around us people will cry and scream and beg... "Why????"
But we will play it cool.
Swimming in lagoon's.
Screaming with every cannonball that we were the last.
To swim. To laugh. To kiss. To cannonball. In cool waters.
We are just taking back our tears.
(random pattern-random pattern-random pattern-random pattern-random pattern)
The Captain returns
My pirate ship.
Not a single scoundrel but myself.
I set sail.
Have adventure after adventure.
I break the heart of a mermaid princess and King Neptune damn near sinks the ship...
until I have the cannon's aimed straight at his face and he smile's nervously
and returns back to his undersea kingdom.
I bury the treasure on a haunted island, and ink the map made from real human flesh.
(for dramatic effect of course)
I brave the most treacherous sea storms and mightiest of Leviathan's krakens.
I make pirate hunters walk the plank and plunge into shark infested waters.
And, when nobody is looking I write sad little poems about the vast lonely sea
and the longing for love. And of course, the occasional sea shanty.
And losing a hand in a pirate battle is no big deal, because then I get to wear a hook.
And the best reason to be a lone pirate is at the end of a long day of pillaging and piracy I can climb in my bed below deck in the ships hull and cuddle with my teddy bear... Mr. Peepers. ________________________________-__________________________-________
The great immediate
I find my council to be ghosts and imaginary friends.
I keep my gun loaded and practice my aim by shooting down
my dreams and the occasional passing angel.
I wander this wasteland...
I am looking and searching, For the lost wings of Icarus...
And a photograph faded from the sun... water logged from the rain..
black and white to keep it timeless. Trapped in a rusted picture frame.
A photograph of you sporting the only smile I will ever need again.
Just one last testament of your love for me as I know those lips and that smile is mine.
Even if you pal around with ghosts and poltergeists I can't help but love you.
And as I drink down the chilled red wine and warm beer, pass right through me so I can have the smell of your perfume engulf and surround me. One last time.
Tomorrow I will set out on an epic journey to prove the world is flat, and run screaming off the side of the planet.
Damn it feels good to be a gangster.
Milk and kisses and Sweet Dreams
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