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

Loading...
There was an error in this gadget

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

Monday, September 17, 2007

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

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Sometimes life feels like a book, a bad one. One where you can't wait to get to the end. But you can not put it down either.
I liftmy glass, to all who are sucked into this book.

Sheri

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