somebody likes me...

So, I posted some poetry on Arcadefire.net to see what people thought and I got a lovely message from a user by the name of: shineonucrazydiamond

he wrote in reply to my poetry:

Im a graduate of english lit and lang and spent many years analysing poetry and prose. And Im sorry but this is very very amateur. I write my own stuff which I will probably stick on here eventually, and this stuff reminds me of some old books I have, full of poetry I wrote when I was taking lots of drugs. Its quite soulless and very self indulgent. Too forced. It has no flow...

the post is at: Arcade Fire.Net Forum: Pornography on the Radio

kind of harsh but, I guess he just doesn't dig the Captain is all....

More soulless , self indulgent, forced, no flow poetry hopefully this weekend.

Captain PirateFace

Red bats with teeth................

Hey Gang,
It seems as though I am in constant trouble.
With my wife, bills, emotions, etc...
I guess I can say that at least I am alive...
at least.

Here is some junk.


Dragging it along

hand covering mouth to withhold a whimper.
pressing a warm palm against the eyes to push back the flooding tears.

the heart slows down to a crawl and the silence of empty rooms overwhelms the listener.

They have felt loneliness.

You have felt it.

The smiles have dissipated long ago.

The crowds have gathered around to point fingers and smirk.

And every muffled chuckle is another dagger thrust deep into already weakened skin.

That’s the way it is.

That’s the way it has to be.

It will always be.

Just close those eyes and let the world fall away.

There is a strange comfort in being alone.
A comfort and a profound hurt.

You soft hearted angel, there will always be pain.

There will always be a slight panic in those eyes.

There will always be someone out there pining away for you,

begging for a piece of your grief and disdain.

They love you all while they break you down.

There can be no champion in this battle...

Regardless of the outcome,
you will lose.
_______________________________________________________

The sea is full of storms and ghosts

I will let this vessel take me away.Let loose the anchor and let the ocean decide my fate.

As the wind whips and the sky shakes, hard ice cold rain feels like small pin pricks on the skin.
I will eventually go down with this ship.

Sinking into the darkness that so perfectly emulates this night sky.

Making apologies to long forgotten ghosts coming to seek answers I cannot give...
just apologies.

I could sail on forever.

Staring at the choppy water restlessly crashing against the side of this boat.

the ocean wants to embrace me and steal the breath from my very soul.

I can think of no fitter way to let go.

I watch the angels fly above me circling the lightning bolts that boil the sea.

I watch the devils just beneath the surface of the water smile scary, wicked smiles beckoning me to join them.

They all have to wait.

This is my voyage and it is mine until the end.

No crew mates aboard.

I let Poseidon push me along into uncharted water where I will finally join the ghosts.
Finally join the devils...
and bid the angels farewell.

I am waiting

I am loving you and pouring salt in this open wound heart.

I am waiting for that love returned.
I am dodging the cold glance you cast my way.

I am imagining the way it would feel to just be held by you once again.

I am breaking apart with regret.

I am madly in love with you.

I am afraid that you may really not love me back.

I am finally at a loss for words.




Keep your ear to the ground kids…

Captain PirateFace

Candy is dandy; but liquor is quicker.
A poem by Ogden Nash

Pictures from "The Rentals" Show

To see more check out Gabriel's myspace profile @ www.myspace.com/gabethecreep

Best Show Ever!!!

Tonight was like a movie moment. Let me explain: We showed up to the House of Blues midway through the 2nd act's set. Running late because we had to get some grub. Gabriel (my son) was bouncing around crazy excited. When the Rentals took to the stage him and I both went crazy! The Rentals are simply amazing! Every song was tight and energetically performed and the band seemed to actually be enjoying themselves. Almost Immediately Rachal Haden noticed Gabriel and said from the stage "Look at that little rocker!". It seemed as though all the member's of the band at one time or another gave Gabriel a smile. During "Please let that be you" a representative of the band, a very nice guy named "Kyle" came down and asked: "Sara wanted to know if your little boy wanted to come on stage and dance with her on the next song's solo." I said "Heck Yeah!" as my wife began to panic. Our little man can be a handful sometimes. I said it would be alright, I would be with him and not let him break anything. As the next song started "The Cruise", Kyle came back and got us and led us backstage. We came around side stage and I had to do all I could to hold the little man back as he was already dancing and super psyched. The solo came up and he was brought onstage. He and Sara Radle danced and jumped together as the crowd smiled and took pictures, my wife being so happy for our son... shed a few tears of joy. The Band finished the song and Sara picked him up and let him say a few un-intelligible words into the microphone and then we went back and joined the crowd. I told Gabriel, "You just lived Daddy's dream buddy!". The show went on, I can honestly say as a fan, that for every fan there it was like an early Christmas present. Songs from both albums and the new e.p. flooded our senses and I think most will have gone home tonight with an aching face... from grinning and smiling. After the show we went over to talk to some of the band members and get Gabriel autographs. Ben Pringle was so nice he brought my son and I backstage where Gabriel got to meet the rest of the band, take pictures and even get to tap out some beats on the drummer's (Dan Joeright's) kit. I just have to say... The Rentals are an amazing band, this I have known since high school. The music is amazing and just play's right through the soul... it's fun, energetic and heck... it's The Rentals! But, tonight I found out that not only are they an amazing band... they are amazing, good hearted, utterly charming people. Las Vegas I am disappointed in you for not filling the House of Blues for this show... you missed out on one hell of a concert.
P. S. Matt Sharp get's bonus points for remembering one of many fans (Me) from his last show, proving that he actually acknowledges his fans.

Tons of pictures of Gabriel were taken at the show and when we get some I will post them right away.

no matter how he tried he could not break free... and the worms ate into his brain

had a rough day... yet again.
me and the girl i married have been at it for days and the mental anguish we both are recieving is unfair and hurtful for us both.

i only have fun in small amounts of exposure.
1. my son always lifts my spirits, even when i am sad or pissed one little word from him or affection and i am just sinking in my heart for him.
2. concerts with Frank the Tank pull me away out of the norm and give me something to rattle my brain enough not to think.
3. no matter how damn commercial "first friday" gets... i just cant help but love it. human interaction is such a nice thing sometimes (i did say sometimes)
4. i love my job, no joke... i truly love my job and i love working with those wicked little s.o.b.'s.

but what hit me hard today was a realization.
i just had bought a bucket of chicken from a "KFC/A&W" and secretly purchased myself a Pepsi Float. As I was waiting at a stoplight I was scooping ice cream and splashes of pepsi in my mouth grinning like an idiot... i havent been that happy without the aid of my son in weeks.

damn.

on to other things....
if you have not got yourself a crappy d.i.y. "pornography on the radio" zine for this month yet...
don't fret! there are still some at zia records and, i will be posting scans when i get slightly less lazy. for my favorite month of the year "october" i will be putting out two zines. one with the regular bitching and moaning that i am infamous for and one with "spooky" (a.k.a. halloweeny) poetry. this upcoming wednesday is "the rentals" and i am super jazzed. i am sure there are tickets still available and they only come out to $20 ($15 for the ticket $5 for the venue fee's).

so, as i say it's been a rough last week and i can't imagine this week not joining in the "kick the captain while he is down" party. so i hope you are all well, and i mean that... i really hope you all are doing better then i. and if you don't believe my sincerity.... well.... fuck right off.

here is some crap i am attempting to pass off as "poetry".

_____________________________________________________________

Thought it would be better

There is this ache and longing for it.
Not simple in any way, like a need for true love.
Just scratching at the surface, wearing down the already too short finger
nail.
Scratching and scratching in a haze until you realize there now are little
snail trails of light pinkish blood.
I want… no need, to feel something besides this.
I cannot lie to you anymore.
My heart is really broken this time.
I am so damn sick of people giving up on me.
The day raced through so quickly like it just new I didn’t want to walk
through that door where I should be at my most comfortable.
I think any bit of soul I had left was pulled from this body at the
starting line.
I guess I really never had a chance…
Did I?
_________________________________________________

All our hopes

Missing the sound's of middle of the desert Punk Rock shows
(The Tubes and Pabco Road).
Missing the smell of summer, burning asphalt and the grease on our bike
chains.
Middle of the night bike rides with no police around to hassle us.
We all grew up so god damn fast.
And I still see all these crazy kids I loved and grew up with…
Desperately holding on to youth.
Like me.
Possibly even you.
I miss the late night SEGA battles of “Street Fighter” and mastering the
finishing moves in the first “Mortal Kombat”.
I miss “120 Min.” on MTV, and writing down the names of bands I was
falling in love with.
I miss the mystery and ache of loving the girls I know could never love me
and never did.
The ones I could never have.
I miss the adventure.
My adventure’s have become hazy distant memories.
I miss so much that it hurts to type these damn words.
I miss the Goonie Squad.
I miss Jose and Amanda’s Vegan cooking.
I miss Sean needing me to secretly fight battles.
I miss Chris kidnapping me when I was down and making my life better with a brotherly hug and a chocolate shake.
I miss Bob and riding around in that beat up blue car around a
neighborhood we had conquered time and time again.
I miss talking about poetry and prose and good music with Gratrix (Who I
wanted to kill when we first met).
I miss the late night arguments about God with Drew just to get him riled up.
I miss staying up late in my room writing bad teenage poetry while
listening to the same song over and over again, or while watching Pink
Floyds “The Wall” over and over again.
I miss the excitement in riding my bike to my girlfriend’s house several
blocks away because I missed her so bad I ached.
I miss Callies room.
Some days I sit and think to myself… When did it end?
Will these days now ever be looked back on in a fond memory?
I kind of doubt it.
We all grew up.
Some of us died.
Some of us had kids.
Some of us need help.
Some don’t.
Some will never think of me again.
As I sit here pining away for those better days before the world became
complicated and hurtful.
Before time started to decay all that was important to my strong youthful
heart.
I love and miss you all like you couldn't possibly imagine.
__________________________________________________________

goodnight.

Captain PirateFace

the suspense is terrible....i hope it'll last.

ok, the time is 1:53am and i am all but wiped out...
so, i will try and make this brief.


S.C., Never feel like I would be bothered or annoyed by anybody! I would just be happy to be able to meet a real life person who actually reads this stuff (and possibly enjoys it!).
Next First Friday I will be waiting for you to "Come up and say hello.." Don't let me down.

I just read a book (that was composites from zines and journal entries by the author) titled:
"On Subbing: The First Four Years"
written by the author "Dave" who gives first account experiences in his job as a "Substitute Education Assistant" in special education classes. I lucked into this book being sold at the recent "Against me" show (which I will tell you about shortly). Only $4 and I read it from cover to cover since last night. It was like reading about my work experience in a strange reverse mirror kind of way. Some of you know I am a Campus Security Monitor at a behavioral school with kids placed for expulsion (Drugs, Weapons, Violence, etc...) and the kids that "Dave" writes about are exactly like a good half the kids at my school. Being that my school is "Behavioral" we still have disabled students, just more in the range of violent outbursts, bi-polar disorder's, ADD/ADHD, High Functioning Autism and more. As a young man I feel I have a strange vantage point on my students. I am an authority figure, yet I will run into the same kids at punk shows and art fares. Las Vegas is a damn small town if you look at the number of people inhabiting the area of land. And "Dave" the author has that same kind of vantage point, he is an "old school" punk, an activist and a vegan (though we do differ there... sorry Dave). I have always felt so out of place in the school district due to my beliefs and my taste in music and culture and of course my age (Dave starts in the school district at 25 and I started as campus security at 23... now I am a healthy 27 A.K.A. "OLD"). Just a fantastic read even if you aren't looking through the same glass as him and I. As students or former students or teachers... it makes for a good read to see that those people who are teaching or subbing the same class you are in or had been in has human beings in it who aren't born and bred into their job, but have human needs and wants and likes. Humanity in the classroom... who would have thought? Find "Microcosm Publishing" online and buy this book! And even if you don't, they have a grip of independently produced zines and book/zine collaborations.

Friday Night I went to see "Against Me"
What a great an amazing show.
The opening act was a guy doing the solo acoustic act thing and sounded really tight. I wrote his name down but am too lazy to go digging through crap to find it right at this moment, if you truly must know his name e-mail me at Captpirateface@aol.com and I will find it.
Second up was a band called "Matt and Kim". Matt sang and played keyboard while Kim played drums. What a fun, entertaining set. In fact we (my whole friggin' family... wife, Son and myself.) dug them so much we bought both Cd's they had for sale. After they finished playing, my wife talked to Kim and she was incredibly sweet. She gave my four year old son drumsticks and felt compelled to give him a hug. She never stopped smiling and I feel that if there were more people like her in the world... things would be groovy.
Finally Against me took the stage. Barely stopping to catch there breath they hammered through songs and the crowd went total ape shit! Every song had a force of it's own and hammered the crowd into a frenzy. Apparently near the last song a security guard put a kid in a headlock and the singer stopped playing and demanded that the security guard let the kid go, after the kid was let go the singer stated that he would not continue until the security guard left from his sight. After the security guard left he jumped right back into the music. It was a true to God, punk rock moment. Good times.

and last but not least...
Tonight I had the pleasure of seeing Modest Mouse.
The opening act nearly made me kill myself. It was like watching James Blunt go country/folk. Gak. Then Modest mouse took to the stage. Another tight band with huge amounts of energy and timing. Two drummers played systematically, and I lost track of the various instruments being used. All in all it was good stuff. Unfortunately, my Achilles Tendinitis started acting up severely and even the pain pill and beer weren't enough to let me stand and enjoy the rest of the show. So I found a wall and got strange looks as I wrote poetry while girls grind danced on their boyfriends to the hypnotic sounds of Modest Mouse.

And here is what was wrote baby!


Blue Lights and Broken Concentration

My heartstrings have been pulled and are on the verge of a pitiful
snap.
But I will make due.
The never ending battle of stuffing crumpled poems and letters and
debris into an already filled trashcan is cathartic but still so simple.
Am I discarding trash?
Or feelings?
I shut up with a mouthfull of red wine and soft gentle music
screwing my head back on while the wife get's her hate on just two rooms away.
Close your eyes and read this...
it usually comes out better this way.


Sorry, Wrong Era

Getting here...
Birth canal and first taste of air screams...
The easy part.
Growing up...
Living in the now
requires patience.
My questions are simple...
Did true love die with the Atomic Bomb?
My answers are muddled.
It's a paper fantasy to want the happy ending.


My two cents worth

I just happen to leave broken children in my wake whenever I go.
I have a few tricks left up these thick and meaty sleeves.
Smile, and you may just get one back...
Twice as coy,
Three times as wicked.
Now I hate to cut htis short but Pandora's Box awaits...
And I am in a mad rush to fuck the world.





Goodnight silly rabbit's.

Captain PirateFace

a little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest man...

Sinning is today's praying baby.
Do it well and hard and fucked beyond all reason.
Lemme know if you have anything in "Title" form you would like me to babble about.

Here's some shite...


You call it madness, I call it a way to pass the time.

We tore out our hearts and sent them blazing into the sky....
snuffing out the stars one by one, until God found himself in a very dark and lonely place.
I count on two hands and all ten toes all the times you said you loved me.
I get dizzy with obsession ready to call on a comic book assassin to take out the object of my affection.
But the big ass coward in me slinks away, tail between my leg as the warm piss in the corner becomes cold and reeking.
I stand on a highway stolen from a "Texas Chainsaw" film and wait for two semi trucks to come crashing into this body.
Sipping a cheap beer and saying a prayer while visualizing a slow dance with you in a seedy truck stop, grinding our bodies together to some fucked up Merle Haggard song.
And just before the explosion gets it's death on with twisted metal and the smell of gasoline...
I step out of the way because I fall in love with a complete stranger watching from across the street.
I toss the figurative dice and pray it doesn't land on snake eyes.
Staggering her way my walk becomes a strut...
and if all goes well, this silly little tale will end up with a strong "R" rating.
_____________________________________________________

Overcome this ritual of self destruction

Bright sunshine breaking through broken blinds, screaming to warm tired bones and strained muscle.
Low humming air conditioner claiming the life of yet another trapped lizard or rat who just couldn't get smart enough to go back the way it came.
A slight caress of the hand that feels like silk.
A swallow of white pills to ease the pain of being.
A whisper in the ear that sends shivers down the spine
and a quick turn and the owners voice is gone... she's gone.
Empty hallways and empty rooms.
Furniture dead and gone, comfortable chairs holding someone different in their fabric arms.
Nothing but the smell of static in the air as small particles of dust float visibly past the beams of sunshine.
If it wasn't so hard this could be easy.
If this wasn't so hard I could almost enjoy it.
Sitting here waiting for night to swallow this whole thing
I have become and surrounded myself with.
Flesh and bone, marble and stone.
__________________________________________________

At the moment...

we failed at living clean, tasty, sex free lives.
Choking the Nun on the street corner.
Demanding a prostitute to hold you for the dollar and change in your pocket.
Pissing in the pool.... in he dead of winter... with your pants on.
Loving you is easy cuz yer beautiful.
I smile while sticking the knife in the belly of some coked up supermodel
on page 35 of "People" magazine.
It's easy baby.
It's a little rock and roll and a teeny tiny bit of bullshitting
yourself onto Santa Claus's "Nice" list.


Goodnight

Captain PirateFace


P.S.

TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY!
Date/Time:	Wednesday September 19, 2007
Time:	8:00am - 8:00pm
Entry Type:	Holiday
Location:	Las Vegas
Notes:	THIS IS VEGAS’ TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY!!!! So don't forget mates..err you’ll be walkin da plank!

we are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams...

So, as I promised but minus the pictures.

"First Friday"
The usual mess of craziness prevailed. Every creature from every walk of life, lumbering about. I admit I may have had a wee bit too much red wine that evening. But all was well. It came to about 45 min. until First Friday was over when I spotted a peculiar sight... I saw three grown men cornering two twelve year old kids almost against a wall. So, naturally I had to poke my nose in their business. The three grown men were "Born Again" Christians and the two twelve year old kids happened to ask a question that got them backed up against a wall by these religious fucking nutter's. I stepped between the two kids and the "fanatics" and told the kids they could leave if they wanted at which they shook there heads "yes" and ran off. At that point I had to ask these bible thumping fuckwads why they felt it was necessary to bully Christ into the hearts of defenseless pre-teens. They claimed they would never impose "their" will on anybody... it was up to the detainee... I mean "person" they were speaking to, to find Jesus on their own. Of course I called bullshit and they tried to come up with a witty brain buster to every one of my logical questions. The best was when I got this little nugget of wisdom, and I quote:

Jesus Jerkoff = JJ
The Captain = CP

JJ: "What if I were driving down the road and I dropped my cell phone in the car and I turned away from the wheel, just for a moment, And when I looked up I was barreling down on a little kid on his bike and killed him? When I go to court I see the judge, I tell the judge I am truly sorry for what happened, that I have lived a righteous life. That I had never erred before in my life. What do you think that judge would say and do?"
CP: "Probably throw the book at you despite your good clean living."
JJ: "That's right! But what would God say? He would embrace my heart and know my sorrow for the deed that had been done, as there is no higher court than God. As Jesus died for my sin's and I have accepted him into my heart."
CP: "So let me ask you this, your saying... in a nutshell... that you were "theoretically" driving down the street in a christian mobile, let's say a "Volvo". And all due to what kind of car you drive the big guy upstairs says all is forgiven. Now what if you live a righteous life and are a Muslim or Mormon? A Lutheran or Catholic... and you have obeyed every "Christian" commandment, you go to Hell no matter what? So a Volvo is OK to get into heaven but driving a Chevy (Being Muslim), or a Hyundai (Being Mormon) or whatever... is a no go eh? God's just a big ass bully that only endorses one kind of car (religion...yours specifically?) no matter what. That is the stupidest shit I have ever heard in my life."
JJ: ................Well,.......yeah.
CP: I gotta go, I can respect believing in something but to tell everyone else they are wrong is just stupid. I don't think God cares what church you worship out of. As long as you are a good person with a good heart and soul I think all is well. If God is all powerful and all knowing... I think he has to have a sense of humor.
And as I walked away I got a collective... "We love you man... Christ loves you." amen.

____________________________________________________________________ "Angels and Airwaves"
I got the privilege of seeing the band Angels and Airwaves, poolside at the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino. And let me tell you... Fucking Misery... All these nasty whorish vapid sluts walking around half naked talking about shit a clinical retard would roll his eyes at. And of course every guy walking around shirtless in board shorts constantly fucking high fiving one another, Saying stiff like "Dude!" and "Bro!". So the band is supposed to start at 7:30 and don't decide to go on till 8:15-ish. I can't lie and tell you the music sucked, they sounded damn near amazing. Angels and Airwaves has this next level sound to them that just makes you feel taken away. It's nice when somebody like Tom from Blink-182 grows up a bit. Just like the first Bad Astronaut cd that Joey Cape put out... good tunes. The issue I had was the short ass 45 min. set. Come the fuck on man! I waited standing like a dumb fuck amongst the most superficial fucks in Vegas for almost an hour for you to put on a 45 min. set and then abandon ship? Fuck that. Oh, I almost forgot to add in that it took all my zen magic to stop myself from beating the dumb fuck frat boys next to me during the whole concert, and also I didn't want to get Frank the Tank kicked out and miss the show that he paid for. (both of our tickets.) But the music was beyond amazing. I would close my eyes periodically and just feel the music wash over me and take me away from the horrible people I was standing with. On the way out the girl in front of me was kind of stagger zombie walking with a light trickle of blood coming from her right nostril. Another girl said to her, hey are you alright? And nosebleed girl answered in a sleepy like manner as she wiped the blood gently away with one finger.. Yeah I am fine. Why are you asking? I am OK. To which the other girl replied in an annoyed tone.. Just trying to look out girl.

The Captain Say's: TOO MUCH COKE FUCKS YOU UP KIDS!
Viva Las Vegas.

But.... the night had just begun!!!!!

"Linkin Park" Let me start off by saying... In no way do I endorse the whole "Nu-Metal Rap Rock Formula that has been slowly killing alternative and decent rock music for the last ten or so years (Thanks Fred "I am so hardcore I am a bitch" Durst). Also, let me say that I have never really been a fan of Linkin Park. I always thought it was a shame that the "Singer" (not the little rapper guy who is also in "Fort Minor") Chester had such an amazing voice and yell that he was wasting on a band that had to throw in the nu-metal rap crap. I always would start digging a song and suddenly there would be all this stuck in the middle, fucking up the song rap. But, again Frank bought the tickets and wanted me to go so there I was. Here it is folks the good, the bad and the ugly. The Good: Linkin Park was incredibly tight. There sound was damn near cd quality and you could literally feel every drum beat, bass drop or guitar riff that was delivered. Chester screams like a fucking maniac and it sounds amazing. That rapper guy in the group? Totally likable and constantly pumping the crowd! Even venturing out into the crowd to let the fans sing along to a song. Now, I am not saying I am gonna rush out and buy all there shit, But.. they put on a hell of a show. Near the end they played a song that took me by the balls... it was just pure amazing... an emotionally charged song called "Shadow of the day". So good in fact that after I got home (after waiting in level 4 of the Hard Rocks impish fucking parking garage) I got online and downloaded that song immediately. And it gives me hope that with just a little time they can truly become something amazing. The Bad: Linkin Park fans. Imagine.... if you will, Aliens abducting people to attend the show. Do they abduct normal folk? No, of course not.. They abduct every speed taking meth head kid from every trailer park in Las Vegas and Henderson. I have been to rough shows... Danzig, Nine Inch Nails, countless Hardcore and Punk shows... shit even some rough Ska shows. But these fucking animal bastards weren't just roughly enjoying the show. They were beating the piss out of each other like savages in a sequel to Lord of the fucking Flies! I could only watch the band half the time as I was convinced some sloppy drunk fuck with the meth smile was going to drop kick me in the face and action would be called upon. Luckily for all it didn't come to that. The Ugly: I mentioned it briefly but let me delve a wee bit shall I? The Parking Garage at the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino sucks balls. It took us near an hour to get down 4 levels. I thought I was going to lose it but luckily me and Frank just listened to The Vandals and had a good laugh. Last but not least.

"The Harvest festival"
Gina's art was really well received by people of all ages and she did exceptionally well! I am very proud of her and for her in moments like that. The people that were selling there, were so nice it was incredible. Our booth of Gina's Artwork was cross ways from this booth selling DVDs that had pleasant outdoor scenery with harp and piano music and I tell you what... That stuff was working it's magic on me. I had befriended the lady in the booth and asked for a business card so I could maybe order one at a later junction as we really couldn't spend what we were making. I told her I could use the scenes of the ocean surf to the harp music to unwind after a weird or troublesome day at my school district job, which for those of you that don't know is working at a behavioral school as campus security. Ninety percent of the kids at my school are there for drugs, violence or weapons. And if they fight or have a meltdown... I am the guy to "pacify" and "control" them. Anyhow, she asked a ton of questions in regard to what I do and what kinds of kids are at my school. She said to me, "So, they are just really bad kids huh?" and I replied, "No mam, just a school of decent kids who made bad decisions". She was genuinely touched at my feelings for the kids at my school and how much I care about my job. I went back to Gina's booth space and not nearly five minuets later she comes over with this white bag and hands me it saying "You have a good heart and you are going places, Please take these, I think you deserve them." And she left back to her tent despite my telling her no. Inside was two DVDs of ocean sea scape and lagoon visuals accommodated by harp music. She gave me a gift for just being me. I was touched damn near to tears and didn't know what to say. So, Gina brought her over a Cat print of one of her paintings and a cat painted box as a thank you. It was nice to have a sweet and good natured stranger think good of me. I wish it happened more often. And anyways... my favorite reaction was when one older lady literally crossed the isle to get away from Gina's booth and yelled out as she passed "DEVILS WORK! DEVILS WORK!". You can't buy that kind of public comment and criticism. We met a bunch of really cool people and hopefully can forge new friendships and alliances FROM this past weekend.


Lastly, Anyone who has picked up my zine and followed the bread crumb trail here I thank you for being curious enough to get the cat killed.

Here be some poem and then I be a sleepy Captain....
ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
______________________________________________________________

the empty grave indicates i am sick of being dead

i have felt this cold before.
where the breath comes out in thick streams of fog.
standing around in moonlit graveyards trying to pretend as if i didn't miss you.
so i pace around this grave stone.
i wait with my legs dangling just barely inside the hole. knocking the loose dirt off my shoes and brushing the dust from my best suite.
i carve our initials into a tree in hopes that you might someday stumble upon it and be shocked into remembering me... loving me.
i sigh and think to myself that i can always try again tomorrow night.
i will wait for you forever.

goodnight worm foodies

Captain PirateFace
"all i ask is a tall ship and a star to sail her by"
from Sea Fever by John Masefield

like a black hole.

Fuck! Am I tired!
Not a whole lot to say......




tonight...


Soon, hopefully tomorrow, my perspective on both the Angels and Airwaves show and Linkin Park show(pictures included thanks to Frank the Tank), which may actually surprise you. Also, the strange and surreal going ons of "First Friday" and the "Harvest Festival at Cashmen (or is it Cashman?) Field".


I leave you tonight with some junk I had in my trunk... on my pirate ship bitches.


Captain PirateFace
____________________________________________________________________




In on it... Finally.

Got a message the other day.
By way of heartache.
Letting me know I was finally allowed in on the joke.
But could not find a bit of humor in it,
as they weren't laughing with me.
Taken for the "Fool" since birth and most likely till death.
And nobody cares enough to ask me why I am not laughing...
it's just not funny anymore.
And I can try and not care...
as I "lie" myself to sleep.


Goodnight and good luck this week.

I'm talking to you... but you are not listening...

long time no talk eh?
Can I actually miss venting my frustrations at the world through an impersonal blog?
Heck yeah.
I missed you baby..
Love.

The Captain.

















find peace in promising what you cannot deliver

Down the beaten path once again.
Following a bread crumb trail that is sure to lead to the witch's oven.
Or those nasty dreams that don't have the decency to stop making me cry by just becoming nightmares.
I drop a letter through the whore of Babylon's mail slot and hope when she reads it,
that it elicits a giggle and possibly a deep empathetic sigh.
Glancing at the sky the clouds grow dark and soon my face becomes wet with rain.
I smell wet dessert... a combination of cooling heat, dead animal and saturated ragweed.
My feet fall heavier today and tonight I will lay back on my beaten bed frame feeling the throb in my soul baring heels.
I feel almost positive when I get a nasty case of the blues...
As my heart grows so heavy
all I can do is lay down on the pavement like a dying dog panting...
panting. ____________________________________________________________________
Teeth chewing down the fat of our love

Gnashing and salivating.
Doing what a man of my size and girth does best.
Swallow the fat. Thick and full of our viciousness.
While one of us cries the thousandth time in our corner,
paint peeling off the walls wet with too many tears.
I kick and punch holes in these rotting walls until the strength leaves me...
And all that remains is light pink bloodstains from my battered knuckles.
I want to lay a violent kiss on that beautiful mouth of yours...
But cannot seem to get past your words.
I scribble down my feelings in a rage spilling out raw emotions.
I wad up this testament and I throw it at your feet.
And we both just stare at each others face...
Cruel and Beautiful.
And I walk away only half caring if you ever pick that piece of trash up at all. ____________________________________________________________________
I can almost taste the metal in my mouth

Like a handgun shoved half way down the throat.
This slow change from man to machine is much too honest.
Hello cold stare and hollow voice.
Hello blank slate never again to be filled with warmth and color.
My tongue exploring where my mouth had been, now only can taste metal as it slides around the smooth interior of a jawbone now made of wires and rusted screws.
A reverse Cinderella.
They say when you drink cyanide, before you die...
you taste almonds.
In this present state that is no longer an option.
Powering down. Shutting off. Unplugged. ____________________________________________________________________

Dreams in a half awake world of wonder and sacrifice.

Tired of being tired.
Staring at the face in the mirror is like a look back at the glory days of Sideshow wonders.
Dark circles under the eyes.
Looking like a reject from the classic "Night of the living dead".
When driving, often wondering how the wind must feel crashing against this dirty windshield.
Can somebody suffocate while walking around, conscious and putting on fake yet believable smiles?
I am limping through my life with a soul that is blistering.
When some days I just want to hold a hand.
I need to open up this head and spill out all those things that had convinced you all to fall in love with me to begin with and give them some air, and sort out the skeletal remains of those that had died a long, long time ago.
If I am failing you I am truly sorry, As it just happens that I am overwhelmingly good at it.
Smile for me, let it be genuine and possibly maybe... You might just get one back.

















That's all for right now,
I hope you are all doing well.
(Especially you Sheri..)

Milk and Kisses.

Captain PirateFace