there is no fear here
Saturday, February 16, 2008
the fear, the flight, the fun and the....far away sad mind of a large man with a large failing heart.
I was driving home in my car, in heavy traffic and decided to have a little fun with two older Asian ladies in the vehicle behind me. I opened my sun roof and stuck my right arm and hand out and pointed my pointer finger straight up to the sky. The two ladies tried to make out what I was pointing at, scanning the sky for whatever I was trying to bring their attention too. I then started pointing at clusters of hotels on the Las Vegas "Strip". They started pointing in the same direction as me. I then decided to change pace and put a "thumbs up" through the sunroof. They looked perplexed staring at my thumb as we slowly crept up the road in the heavy traffic. Finally all the absurdity of staring at my "thumbs up" for over five minuets must have finally got to them as they begun to crack up in giggles while pointing at my "thumbs up". I started laughing alone in my car too with my thumb up and my arm getting tired. As I approached my street I gave mention that I would be turning right soon by pointing down at my car through the sunroof with my pointer finger and then pointing right. And as I was turning I began to have my hand. The now smiling elderly Asian ladies returned the wave and I made my turn and smiled wide as I drove down the short street home.
"Accidents" by Arcade Fire
An old man has a heart attack in the movie theater
While my friend calls an ambulance
Buster Keaton's dancing
I wait for the punchline
But it never comes
Two blind kids in wheelchairs are crossing the street
And they get hit by the ambulance
Cause the light was green
And I wait for the punchline
But it never comes
Promised you that I'd be true
And now chandeliers are crashing down to the ground
Waitresses drop their trays
Trains derail with passengers
While mother snakes eat their young
The water pipes in this town
Burst and flood the living room
The firetrucks lose their way home
And crash into the hospitals
We're causing accidents
Me and you
We're causing accidents
Me and you
Where does a promise go
When you pretend it isn't there
Do we really think that it could just disappear
_____________________________________________________________________________________
An honest response sent in a letter back to a loved one's honest question.
Because you are related to me...
"no really, it's in you and I's blood.
We are complicated people and have complicated emotions and thoughts... though sometimes things that complicate a normal person is to us but a simple thing. We act and re-act through pure emotion and struggle to blend into a world that either does not want us or is not ready for us. God made a mistake when he created people like us. And we are carnal in our needs and that frustrates the normal ones. It's not our fault... it's an unforgiving world and a distanced creator...
not because the higher power does not love us, but because he cannot understand us... he cannot tame us, so we suffer and go on suffering and suffering always near happy and almost always certainly sad."
-John Robison-
"Too weird to live, too rare to die" - HST
it's not going to stop
the world is turning.
rainclouds are gathering.
she or he, is sitting in a restroom crying over a picture of you...
and you will never know.
the waves are crashing on some distant night time beach.
and you may even be reading a poem right now.
a song featuring prominent piano and drums play loudly on a mans headphones as he writes the mentioned poem you may be reading...
or have stopped reading.
candle light flickers.
a baby is born.
somebody is dying.
a galaxy just went nova.
somewhere else two pairs of lips press together in a passionate kiss.
hearts are beating almost everywhere on the planet and to hear them all at once would be one continues noise... beautiful noise of living things, creatures and people.
I love you all and that's really only a half truth at best.
these words will most likely outlive the man writing them.
sometimes when she is on the telephone he can hear the slight change in her voice when he knows she is smiling.
I am missing people right now.
she does not like to be held by her husband while sleeping because she does not enjoy his snoring.
the end is near...
see i told you so.
tidal heart
my soul is in the depths of the ocean.
the beating of my heart is the crashing waves,
my blood the foamy salt water.
my thoughts of you run deeper then any part of the ocean.
I drown in the darkness of you...
happily and in smiling tears.
Violence
I have felt the iron taste of new blood fill up my mouth in a quick hot sticky motion.
I have felt the cartilage in a nose bone crush under the weight of my slamming fist.
I know what it's like to take a punch to the guts and feel your insides rumble and feel the flesh around the ribcage swell with pain and go hot, nearly breaking...
always bruising.
I can tell you what it's like to beat a man close to death...
and it makes me sick.
it makes me want to cry.
I have torn the flesh from right corner of the mouth all the way up to and around the ear, creating a life long scar in a fit of a drunk and drug rattled rage...
and it kills me.
it gives me nightmares.
I never fought for love... or passion.
Just defense, fear and cruelty.
for the need to give another person the pain that was killing my soul and body.
And I am sorry.
Oh dear God I am so sorry.
I hope one day I can be forgiven and my good deeds outnumber the bad.
________________________________________________________________________________
Goodnight.
Captain PirateFace
"The work of the eyes is done. Go now and do the heart-work on the images imprisoned within you."
-Rainer Marie Rilke-
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
clouds made of fire...
"Wave everybody... here comes the apocalypse!"
The Soundtrack to tonights Easy Listening Mother Fuckers.
1. Aimee Man = Wise Up
2. Kings of Leon = On Call
3. Portishead = Give Me A Reason
4. The Rolling Stones = She Smiled Sweetly
5. Aqueduct = Hardcore Days And Softcore Nights
6. Portishead = Sour Times
7. Ben Lee Float On (Modest Mouse Cover)
8. The Pixies = Wave of Mutilation (UK Surf Version)
9. Depeche Mode = Judas
10. Elliot Smith = 2:45am
11. Meat Beat Manifesto = Cancer
12. Muse = Starlight
13. Portishead = Roads
14. Meat Beat Manifesto = She's Unreal
15. Hedwig and the Angry Inch = Origin of Love
16. Andrew WK = She is beautiful
17. Arcade Fire = Cold Wind
18. The Moldy Peaches = Anyone Else But You
Recommended Reading:
"Death of a Salesman"
________________________________________
"Wave of Mutilation"
as sung to the beat of...
"Wave of Mutilation" by -The Pixies-
cease to resist, giving my goodbye
drive my car into the ocean
you'll think i'm dead, but i sail away
on a wave of mutilation
a wave
wave
i've kissed mermaids, rode the el nino
walked the sand with the crustaceans
could find my way to mariana
on a wave of mutilation,
wave of mutilation
wave of mutilation
wave
wave of mutilation
wave
__________________________________
a broken missing piece...
My grandfather had a heart attack today.
Love is slipping away and I am sitting here motionless like a clinical retard watching a falling star.
I only wanted to touch you.
I miss those days when my problems were limited to a handful.
When the mirror showed less weight and no dark circles under the eyes.
The Small, tiny Death of me that is a bullet called pain and despair
(Bang, Bang... I wish my baby shot me down.....)
like a shot through this rotten heart.
Spoiled Milk
Radiating Beauties hanging on every word the scum spit's forward.
Why cant they ever fall that deep for the lunatic?
The Soundtrack to tonights Easy Listening Mother Fuckers.
1. Aimee Man = Wise Up
2. Kings of Leon = On Call
3. Portishead = Give Me A Reason
4. The Rolling Stones = She Smiled Sweetly
5. Aqueduct = Hardcore Days And Softcore Nights
6. Portishead = Sour Times
7. Ben Lee Float On (Modest Mouse Cover)
8. The Pixies = Wave of Mutilation (UK Surf Version)
9. Depeche Mode = Judas
10. Elliot Smith = 2:45am
11. Meat Beat Manifesto = Cancer
12. Muse = Starlight
13. Portishead = Roads
14. Meat Beat Manifesto = She's Unreal
15. Hedwig and the Angry Inch = Origin of Love
16. Andrew WK = She is beautiful
17. Arcade Fire = Cold Wind
18. The Moldy Peaches = Anyone Else But You
Recommended Reading:
"Death of a Salesman"
________________________________________
"Wave of Mutilation"
as sung to the beat of...
"Wave of Mutilation" by -The Pixies-
cease to resist, giving my goodbye
drive my car into the ocean
you'll think i'm dead, but i sail away
on a wave of mutilation
a wave
wave
i've kissed mermaids, rode the el nino
walked the sand with the crustaceans
could find my way to mariana
on a wave of mutilation,
wave of mutilation
wave of mutilation
wave
wave of mutilation
wave
__________________________________
a broken missing piece...
My grandfather had a heart attack today.
Love is slipping away and I am sitting here motionless like a clinical retard watching a falling star.
I only wanted to touch you.
I miss those days when my problems were limited to a handful.
When the mirror showed less weight and no dark circles under the eyes.
The Small, tiny Death of me that is a bullet called pain and despair
(Bang, Bang... I wish my baby shot me down.....)
like a shot through this rotten heart.
Even though you call me soulless,
The Watermark
This barren valley,
Once teeming with aquatic life...
now bone dry.
The skulls left behind left grinning with strange toothy smiles.
Once upon a time small delicate waves would break against jagged rocks,
rocks that now sit Godly and elevated touching the bluest of heavens.
Their thirst only quenched now by passing rainstorm.
The last remnants of this shimmering body of water from the past is the various watermarks
left behind.
Twisted and Damn Beautiful
I love you and...
isn't that a rare thing?
As nobody could love you really.
Your smile hides your twisted heart and vicious intentions.
But I love that smile.
And I must be twisted too.
Twisted up in your sour heart and sweet smile...
Twisted up in you.
Once teeming with aquatic life...
now bone dry.
The skulls left behind left grinning with strange toothy smiles.
Once upon a time small delicate waves would break against jagged rocks,
rocks that now sit Godly and elevated touching the bluest of heavens.
Their thirst only quenched now by passing rainstorm.
The last remnants of this shimmering body of water from the past is the various watermarks
left behind.
Twisted and Damn Beautiful
I love you and...
isn't that a rare thing?
As nobody could love you really.
Your smile hides your twisted heart and vicious intentions.
But I love that smile.
And I must be twisted too.
Twisted up in your sour heart and sweet smile...
Twisted up in you.
Fresh out of Control
They are burning a hole in my back with accusing stares
as I limp along towards my stories end.
Not giving the savages the benefit of acknowledging their hatefull shenanigans.
I reach with dry fingers that are cracked and bleeding...
extended for a plastic grinning angel.
Always just out of my reach.
I may die within sight of the climactic end.
I may die once I have arrived.
But I will die on my feet...
soon followed on the floor.
as I limp along towards my stories end.
Not giving the savages the benefit of acknowledging their hatefull shenanigans.
I reach with dry fingers that are cracked and bleeding...
extended for a plastic grinning angel.
Always just out of my reach.
I may die within sight of the climactic end.
I may die once I have arrived.
But I will die on my feet...
soon followed on the floor.
Spoiled Milk
Radiating Beauties hanging on every word the scum spit's forward.
Why cant they ever fall that deep for the lunatic?
I said
A source very close to me says I write the same repetitive whiny shit and I have no talent and will never be a real writer making real money.
I think I agree.....
word.
is there anybody out there?
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
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
you
except
writing.
it keeps the walls
from
failing."
— Charles Bukowski