Monday, October 20, 2008
the piano keys are broken just like the keys on my keyboard...
so, so much to tell and so little ability to tell it in.
saw Lagwagon... amazing show. Took a picture with Joey Cape and my mom erased it from the camera. Saw "Choke" great flick... equally good as the book. Still in the throes of divorce and that
does not get easier in the slightest. Have really good people in my life holding me up even though I am constantly falling down. Suffice to say, it's been really rough. I have been leaving poems and flyer's for this twisted little blog all over town so if you found one... hi.
Was reading a trade paperback from the library the other day (for the life of me I cannot recall the name) and in the back I saw an awesome pin-up done by the infamous Ben Hall. There is a link to his art to the right in my links. He and his wife Marlena are just amazing. Miss you guys.
I spend a lot of time in a constant state of confusion. Sometimes really sad and once in a while very angry. But I guess that's life right?? So here is some crap that I have been working on as of late. it's not all genius and it's mostly just crap. Some of it are thoughts and some are complete poems and some aren't complete anything. so here is the poison folks... swallow or choke the choice is all yours.
Heart attack baby.
I feel an ache in my chest.
As my rhythm breaks down to a scattered beat.
My fingers claw my chest looking for an invisible button to push...
for a door hinge to open...
maybe even an emergency phone to God begging for one more chance at life.
No luck baby.
Who left out the beef?
Ah fuck it!
Who needed the heart ache anyway?
My solid mind.
I used to think
I was fucked up.
Then I thought
I was wrong...
and that I had made it all up.
But I now think I am all fucked up again.
I am coming home.
Full fucking circle.
I want to be numb.
I want to do terrible things and be forgiven for them.
I want to cry and wail and be held.
I want to die a little bit and take a little life every day.
I want to love.
I want to be loved by everyone.
I want to be touched.
I want to destroy everything in the world.
Visiting from far away.
Like walking out on an ice covered lake.
It's foreign to me and hard to comprehend my own movements.
Always in fear of the cracking ice beneath my feet.
Always near the point of tumbling into the darkness and drowning
I always would tread softly.
Vastly aware of all the dreams set at my feet.
Mine having been trampled underfoot long ago.
Who made you the great decider of fates, man-child?
God could not trust you with such a massive undertaking.
Especially when your allways fighting and yelling at God with your fists clenched and tears in your eyes.
Me, a child of wonder and romantic fantasies.
Almost 30 years old does not count or come close to being a child.
Yet I fabricate lies as quickly as a little boy caught elbow deep in the cookie jar.
I pretend I am invisible like when I was little.
It must be working because when I smile they don't smile back anymore.
I just wanted to hold you dear so you could feel my old body and my teenage heart beating against your body of sweet, sexy, delicate and sex sweaty lies.
So, we meet again?
Her smile breaks me down, and I smile up at my pleasant death.
We stand staring into one anothers eyes
deep and full of
fears, passions, resentments, tears.
And I can't tell if you are telling me "Love me" or "Leave me" anymore.
Your eyes are your mystery while mine give my every thought away...
my every emotion.
I was foolish to stare so long to begin with.
we break apart after tainted kisses on the verge of tears and laughter.
Sitting in traffic
Kids fighting in the backseat of a Toyota Sienna for over 20 minuets in front of me in traffic.
Past tinted glass I see little silhouettes ball their fists and attack over and over again.
Making me laugh over and over again.
An Indian couple behind me in traffic lean in from their seats meeting in the middle touching their heads together, then kiss...
pulling a sigh from my lungs.
Still, all in traffic.
my face is long and tired and full of thoughts that can't be controlled.
I think about Cat Stevens and how he lost his mind and let his musical spirit fade away because he converted to the Muslim religion and how many years later was banned from commercial airlines to fly to America due to suspected terrorist activity.
When I think of heaven I can't visualize bright white light...
I think of an old room filled with antiques and soft dim light and soft old furniture.
8:05pm September 20th 2008
Kind of a hard day today.
Not in terms of hanging out with Gabriel...
in all honesty he was an angel... no pun intended.
I just felt vacant and misplaced...
as if not belonging anywhere.
But kept my smile and spirits up for and because of Gabriel.
We now, as I am writing this, are waiting in the cool September night air on a patch of equally cool and comfortable grass to watch Everclear play for free tonight in North Las Vegas.
Both of us wearing plastic "kids" firefighter hats, Gabriel holding a knock off lightsabre he won in an endurance of strength match with a mallet. Me holding a blow up spider man mallet he won earlier in the same game.
Four crispy waters unopened and ready and one opened in each of our laps.
The stage crew is slowly getting things ready as we listen to an unamed individual pound out an unrecognizable drum beat testing out the drums.
Gabriel now tapping on my plastic fireman's hat demands my attention so he can proudly tell me about the bridge he crossed and the slide he went down earlier on an amusement ride.
I put my pen don and listen to my best friend in this whole crazy wide world.
She stains my coths everytime.
But keeps coming back even though I am an aweful fuck.
What do I want out of this life?
What do I get?
Lip locked kisses?
And I bow out now.
This sleeper is waking the fuck up yo.
Restricted of human passions.
Leave your personality at home.
We have brought down the pain and the tears.
We have sunk into the honest retribution and apathy.
I have become living empathy.
Like a raw exposed nerve.
I can't close my eyes anymore because I fear the ghosts will be upon me with their wanting
eyes begging me with their soundless lips.
I just keep backing away from the nightmares and daydreams.
Praying for a better anything.
Until I have backed myself into a corner.
Fearing I will lose control at any second.
And God help me I think I have.
more written that will be posted soonish.
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