tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46422131895688048922024-02-07T10:38:26.548-08:00Stone Cold FlameMy pen reveals my heart and my soul. That has not changed since 1989.<br>
<br>
“Ah, I’d love to wear a rainbow every day, And tell the world that everything’s OK, But I’ll try to carry off a little darkness on my back, ‘Till things are brighter, I’m the Man In Black.”--Johnny CashRob Willhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06347748960361718111noreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-28687883746677930482014-05-19T12:55:00.003-07:002014-05-19T12:55:57.892-07:00Lauren BacallWhen I was 12 years old<br />I fell in love with Lauren Bacall<br />I dreamed at night<br />I was black and white<br />and over 6 feet tall<br /><br />I would touch the silver gown<br />she wore with elegance in "The Big Sleep"<br />I'd fantasize<br />those beautiful eyes <br />would get misty just for me<br /><br />I loved Lauren Bacall <br />despite the bad reception<br />I pined for her voice<br />And I'd forgive her <br />even if she used deception<br /><br />Because when you're 12 years old<br />and in love with Lauren Bacall<br />You don't know what love is<br />
You have no idea at all. <br />
<span class="photo "><img alt="" class="photo_img img" src="https://scontent-b-dfw.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc3/t1.0-9/29022_1179479305789_8212457_n.jpg" title="" /></span>Rob Willhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06347748960361718111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-17598264716587574182013-05-10T10:25:00.001-07:002013-05-10T10:50:56.665-07:00Complaining and Asking For More“Scientists talk about dark matter, the invisible, mysterious substance
that occupies the space between stars. Dark matter makes up 99.99
percent of the universe, and they don't know what it is. Well I do. It's
apathy. That's the truth of it; pile together everything we know and
care about in the universe and it will still be nothing more than a tiny
speck in the middle of a vast black ocean of Who Gives a Fuck.”
<br />
―
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/225033.David_Wong">David Wong</a>,
<i>
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/1858059">John Dies at the End</a> </i><br />
<br />
“The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite
of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not
heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's
indifference.”
<br />
<div class="quoteText">
―
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1049.Elie_Wiesel">Elie Wiesel</a></div>
<div class="quoteText">
</div>
<div class="quoteText">
<br /></div>
<i> </i> <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
times come and go<br />
where the wind around me smells wrong<br />
trying to figure out what I know<br />
forgetting lyrics to my favorite songs<br />
<br />
raised in the church<br />
rulebooks laid out open wide<br />
but that stuff is for kids<br />
adulthood teaches the other side<br />
<br />
takers get things handed continually<br />
violators get off scot-free<br />
criminals have 60 inch televisions <br />
while war vets struggle to even see<br />
<br />
halfway through this life<br />
I look back at a lifetime of trying for others<br />
told what I did is now stupidity<br />
while laziness and victimization still hovers<br />
<br />
complaining and asking for more<br />
<br />
Nice guys don't get paid<br />
of wisdom, that's indeed a pearl<br />
the way I see things may be naive<br />
but I've never hurt a person in this world<br />
<br />
I could take pride in that<br />
if I didn't have hands in my pockets<br />
I feel as if I don't fit here sometimes<br />
maybe should be seated on a rocket<br />
<br />
because I can't identify at times<br />
don't know why things are okay<br />
I don't see reason in others' rhymes<br />
too many games I do not play<br />
<br />
so I guess I have a lot of growing up to do<br />
hardening and changing as I see things unfold<br />
because I don't want to be seeking truths<br />
while I'm trying to achieve honor as I grow old<br />
<br />
complaining and asking for more.Rob Willhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06347748960361718111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-24828699086181684932013-04-08T16:59:00.001-07:002013-04-08T16:59:40.236-07:00Cries and whispersI swear I heard thunder <br />
I know I felt rain<br />
It seems every blunder<br />
Comes just before the pain<br />
<br />
It's all like a storm <br />
<br />
I feel guilty <br />
Asking god for things<br />
When I normally don't believe he's there<br />
<br />
And I feel stupid<br />
That I'm so desperate<br />
I've somehow resorted to prayer<br />
<br />
It's all like a storm with lightning<br />
<br />
<br />
That started a flame <br />
People hold me up to<br />
To try and figure me out<br />
<br />
I'm looking at people<br />
I don't get you all either<br />
Please don't have any doubt<br />
<br />
<br />
It's a lonely world folks<br />
Being like a grown up version<br />
Of that lost wandering kid in the parking lot<br />
<br />
Waiting for momma<br />
Hoping that poppa<br />
Will come and wipe away the snot<br />
<br />
Well I'm past 40 now<br />
There's no mom and dad anymore<br />
I've left them all behind<br />
<br />
I've got to figure out myself somehow<br />
And start the game over again<br />
As someone else this time....<br />
<br />
<br />
Rob Willhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06347748960361718111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-47296498985450085822013-04-07T11:11:00.001-07:002013-04-07T11:49:20.688-07:00Guess I didn't knowDidn't know where I stood<br />
When things are okay thanks to standing<br />
I guess I know now<br />
<br />
Can't let go<br />
Of things glossed over<br />
By society or a shrug<br />
Maybe it's just me<br />
<br />
I now understand<br />
Worley's haunting<br />
Someone's ok with something<br />
Or worse its forgotten with a smile<br />
<br />
Am I the only one here<br />
With a flushed face<br />
And tears in my eyes<br />
Loading my fists?<br />
<br />
I now understand<br />
The McManus' plotting<br />
I'm not gonna forget<br />
What others rather would<br />
<br />
Even the victims can't see<br />
They haven't hurt just them<br />
They've also hurt me<br />
<br />
So I boil like a kettle<br />
Because I've been good <br />
I've tested my own mettle<br />
Just to have backs turned on me<br />
<br />
Only to be pushed again....<br />
Being right, doing right<br />
Pays less than being a fucking bastard<br />
And people make up the truth anyway<br />
<br />
Maybe it's just me<br />
<br />
Because I understand<br />
Bullock's fists<br />
I can stand over blood and bones<br />
And feel justified<br />
And smile.<br />
<br />
Feeling alone in these moments<br />
I don't understand anyone<br />
And no one understands me<br />
<br />
Am I afraid of my own rage?<br />
Yes, indeed I am<br />
But I respect it<br />
And I know it's right<br />
<br />
Because its borne<br />
Of righteousness<br />
And love.<br />
<br />
Not self gratification<br />
And satisfaction <br />
<br />
But I'll never be right in any occasion<br />
They only got Capone for tax evasion<br />
<br />
Now I understand<br />
Billy Jack's feet today<br />
But even that one ton soldier<br />
Got hauled awayUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-63577346617499481582012-12-17T07:47:00.001-08:002012-12-21T12:25:17.751-08:00Second ChoiceTo be a replacement<br />
To be that Second choice<br />
Just fitting the the bill<br />
Just Good enough for now<br />
<br />
Lifting it up<br />
trying to convince it<br />
as it looks the other way<br />
as it finds more<br />
in what is less<br />
<br />
in what is repulsive<br />
<br />
throwing my head down<br />
hair in my eyes<br />
on my knees<br />
<br />
retching with that knowledge<br />
helpless in the sickness<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Tired of exhausting myself<br />
Giving all to getting back half<br />
Disregarded by the child<br />
<br />
Daddy, take a bow<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
It kills and burns to have the weighted wisdom<br />
You're only there because another wouldn't break free<br />
It dries out the tears and fogs up the vision<br />
You're second in line, quite possibly number three<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I wish I had enough strength<br />
Overstocked on pride<br />
To face the world alone<br />
I wish I could go forward<br />
No one at the side<br />
<br />
to be <br />
Happy enough on my own<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-34656889564798674362012-11-20T07:48:00.001-08:002013-02-05T12:25:39.231-08:00Given An Inch<span style="color: red;"><object height="315" width="420"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_tIQscRJ8ds?version=3&hl=en_US&rel=0"></param>
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<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;"><br /><span id="internal-source-marker_0.9265819194607111" style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">There’s a smile that makes me sick</span></span>
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">a knowing grin worn on many faces I see</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">When does having money</span></span>
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">make everything one does okay?</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The filth, the acts, the things they do</span></span>
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I guess make them better than me </span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">because there’s a bank account</span></span>
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">that is bigger than mine today?</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The Patience allot<span style="color: black;">t</span>ed</span></span>
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">the sins forgotten</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">the gestures and looks left lying about</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The acts forgiven</span></span>
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">the lack of inhibition</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">is given inches of shadow of doubt</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">That’s taken for miles</span></span>
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">and my head’s down</span></span>
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">so far down my hair hangs at my side</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">and I don’t want to be along for this ride</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Where entitlement and abuse is rewarded</span></span>
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">and nightmares grown in the dark</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Where gratification and intemperance</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">take priority over the just and the heart</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">because someone has a leg up</span></span>
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">one way or another</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I can’t look anymore, can’t breathe</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’m beginning to smother.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span><span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<br />
<br />
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"
>You can turn a key</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">pull an umbrella on the rain</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">touch glass with a hammer</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">it all turns out the same</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">dirty games with pain in mind</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">second guessing at the stains</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">don't have to look hard to find</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">nothing has capacity to change</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">you might lift some sunshine out</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">long enough to dull the pain</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">but please, withdraw all doubt</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">it will always come back to rain</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">it's that skip in the record</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">the fly in the vaseline</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">filthy anomaly in something beautiful</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">you always wake up from a dream</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">it will bend to remain</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">a system with a drain</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">same game, different name</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">not a fucking thing's changed</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">beautiful things turned into weapons without pity</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">by drooling, leering machines with one-track thinking</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">they are handed boarding passes and keys to the city</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">by wealth-impressed drones even as their ship is sinking</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">It's the same as it's ever been</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">advantage taken with entitlement's grin</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">smiling that filthy cheshire twisted beam</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">but death comes to every one</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">even slowly rusting machines</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">don't be surprise when violence comes</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">or retribution taps at your window and door</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">the price you pay when you walk without wisdom</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">making doormats of friends and acquaintances whores</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">even the slimiest practitioners</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">are given cart blanche</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">and I don't find anything funny</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">when a sentence is finished</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">with "Yeah, but they've got money" </span> </span>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-58004315721669742182012-10-31T14:31:00.001-07:002012-10-31T14:32:11.629-07:00Tummy acheTides shift<br />
sands twirl<br />
<br />
feel the grit in the air<br />
<br />
opinions grind<br />
and machine parts whirr<br />
<br />
feel the grit in my hair<br />
<br />
from my hands twisting it<br />
from my lack of not getting it<br />
<br />
not understanding why I'm the way I am<br />
<br />
there's question marks after lessons<br />
there's no answers after sessions<br />
of why do you think the way you do<br />
<br />
and I'm the one being asked<br />
<br />
Why does it bother me?<br />
<br />
Well..... <br />
Why doesn't it bother you? <br />
<br />
Maybe I'm not angry<br />
Maybe I'm not depressed<br />
<br />
Maybe I'm just thinking today<br />
<br />
Pardon me for being unsure<br />
Sorry for not having the cure<br />
<br />
for what's causing me to shake my head<br />
as I'm walking away<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm just who I am<br />
my face holds answers, look and see <br />
why does it bother you?<br />
<br />
and why doesn't it bother me?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-30229640841768780332012-05-24T11:49:00.003-07:002012-05-24T11:56:39.020-07:00In the Background<object height="315" width="420"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NgztL7iV1Fg?version=3&hl=en_US&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NgztL7iV1Fg?version=3&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="315" width="420"></embed></object><br />In the electronic age<br />multiple programs, multi-tasking<br />terminology created<br /><br />"in the background"<br /><br />All those days of my life, I never stopped looking at the sky<br />Free cassette tape spinning in a primitive handheld device<br />deep voice that echoed my sentiment<br /><br />Chase away the ghosts that haunt me now<br /><br />22 years into the fray and the song never quite went away<br />it was in the background<br />like my looking for that answer<br />looking to the southern sky<br />and to the north if I were already there<br /><br />My mind and heart "a constantly running program"<br />searching for that answer<br />with that old free song as a guide, a testament<br />that someone else knew what I was looking for<br /><br />into the night skies<br /><br />That tape never went away<br />always somewhere in the background of my possessions<br />like the search that never stopped<br />because it knew it couldn't, no matter what transpired<br /><br />the song was of one who would chase away skeletons<br /><br />one who "wouldn't mind"<br /><br />I found her from 967<br />a break in the curtains that displayed heaven<br />ghosts and skeletons on the run<br />Now I'm in that southern sky, under her sun.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-43651826809303184012012-05-20T20:13:00.001-07:002012-05-20T20:13:40.714-07:00HandoutPhotocopy gray<br />
Staples in the corner<br />
Third generation blur and fade<br />
Some pages out of order<br />
<br />
Pacing at the front of the room<br />
Aisle after aisle<br />
Handing out second rate textbooks<br />
With a glued on fucking smile<br />
<br />
That depressing mimeographed bundle<br />
Imitation of life <br />
Tossed on a desk with carvings and perversions<br />
Stabbed in via jackknife<br />
<br />
Same day. Same game, not a damn thing's changed<br />
Not a teacher anymore, but a boss or<br />
a friend<br />
Throwing you a stack of half-hearted copycat<br />
Lie after lie, means to an end<br />
<br />
So I won't take this remnant of a tree<br />
Folded in my hand, rolled up fakery<br />
It can sit in front of my face making me sick<br />
Clenching my fist, trying for braveryUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-81926842949085255422012-05-17T11:26:00.004-07:002023-04-29T09:17:25.746-07:001989-- Standing in the middle of Caligula (something with the horizontal)<object height="315" width="420"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9_358OhIRqo?version=3&hl=en_US&rel=0" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><embed allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9_358OhIRqo?version=3&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="420"></embed></object>
Don't like to look in the mirror <div>Or hear the voice that belongs to what I see </div><div> singing off key, </div><div><br /></div><div>looking like life warmed over </div><div><br /></div><div> Staring and wondering </div><div>speaking and questioning </div><div><br /></div><div> Noah Drake asked,
"Wondering what she don't see in me." </div><div><br /></div><div> Rolling out of bed, rolling into the black again
in the bathroom in front of the glass </div><div><br /></div><div>again
disliking someone who's done nothing wrong</div><div><br /></div><div> There I am clinging to sainthood, </div><div><br /></div><div>shaking my head with a laugh
at the lack of willpower that others show </div><div><br /></div><div> willpower I feel I have no right but to display </div><div><br /></div><div> I'm standing in the middle of Caligula</div><div> the only one who sees anything wrong here </div><div> the only one who holds "steadfast" dear</div><div> I know what's wrong with this picture </div><div><br /></div><div> and it's damn sure more than the contrast</div><div> a lot more than the brightness </div><div> something with the horizontal </div><div><br /></div><div> because it's the same thing over and over again, </div><div>out of control
like the dreams where I'm spinning and I can't stop it. </div><div><br /></div><div> and I'm the only one who cares
and I'm going home alone.. </div><div> stone cold sober </div><div> stone cold pure </div><div> stone cold righteousness </div><div> stone cold flame </div><div><br /></div><div> I'm standing in the middle of Caligula </div><div> watching others hurt
and others getting hurt </div><div><br /></div><div> and doing and letting it happen
like the horizontal, over and over again </div><div><br /></div><div> I see the wine and the touch
and the intemperance </div><div> and I don't want any part of it </div><div> and I question those who do </div><div><br /></div><div> and those who let those who do off the hook </div><div><br /></div><div> No one ever learns </div><div>No one ever yearns </div><div>because it's handed to them
like the horizontal </div><div>over and over again </div><div><br /></div><div> I'm standing in the middle of Caligula </div><div> covering my ears </div><div>covering my eyes </div><div><br /></div><div> pretending it doesn't happen </div><div><br /></div><div> stone cold flame</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-65272102168187493642012-05-09T14:06:00.002-07:002012-05-09T14:10:17.920-07:00DialingI have questions<br />I need to ask<br />I can look back, Dad<br />but they're not buried in the past<br /><br />So I look up<br />and make a phone call<br />is there an operator<br />beyond the pearly gates and heaven's walls?<br /><br />Because your questions to your father<br />fell on deaf ears<br />and I know mine would be answered<br />with a pat on the back and great cheer<br /><br />but when my own son<br />won't listen to my knocks at the door<br />how much harder do I dial<br />before I can't do it any more?<br /><br />3 degrees of seperation<br />different breaks in the same connection<br />Goddamn it, Dad, it's your help I now need<br />Which way one good father has to turn<br />to make his only son see?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-31925608184340622392012-04-25T12:17:00.002-07:002012-04-25T12:23:23.479-07:00The Indifference of "good" men....<object height="315" width="420"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AAm8Th82ElE?version=3&hl=en_US&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AAm8Th82ElE?version=3&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="315" width="420"></embed></object><br /><br />I guess I never really had a problem with what I'll call mild vigilantism. In so many brightly lit areas of the world there is true darkness. People who have done awful things.<br /><br />Terrible things.<br /><br />It is bad they are still walking among us unpunished and unincarcerated for more than one reason.<br /><br />The one that seems to bite the lesser of the two is that the victims are unvindicated from top to bottom. This is a no-brainer. The one that really hurts, really irks, and causes nausea at times, is that they walk around, grins firmly implanted on their face, believing they have done no wrong.<br /><br />I have a problem with that.<br /><br />Or worse, they know what they've done may not be exactly right, but it was okay that THEY did it. <br /><br />Those brightly lit areas grow a little darker everyday for there are so many people scuttling about thinking they have committed the equivalent of some little white lie, when they have unequivocally partially ruined some pure soul's life....<br /><br />I can't let that go....It keeps me awake at night sometimes.....Justice is too often a near miss....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-52884709440009983272012-01-07T20:54:00.000-08:002012-01-07T20:54:40.070-08:00Think<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/wTUcjGQimtA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
When you've accepted who you are today<br />
and you've settled with how the shadows loom<br />
you rise from your bed every day<br />
hearing ghosts from the other room<br />
<br />
When you realize you've reached your potential
and it fell short of the goal you've set<br />
smiles achieved by others beside you<br />
sometimes throw balm on the burns you get<br />
<br />
It is a fucking sad day<br />
when you find out you have so much love to give<br />
indeed a powerfully sad day<br />
because, wasted, it leaked out like a sieve<br />
<br />
register your smile with the kid<br />
register your apathy with the wife<br />
turn your head, ignore your reflections<br />
for the rest of your goddamn life<br />
<br />
There's a quiet place in my head<br />
blackened reflections on shiny surfaces<br />
voices of the dead, and shadows of dread<br />
This walks the halls of my home.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-22923570153724456672012-01-04T14:09:00.001-08:002012-01-04T14:11:07.429-08:00ThinSometimes I feel things so sharply/
they bring a tear to my eye/
Every time someone says hello/
It means there will be a goodbye/
and it's no lie I have a tough time letting go/
and it's so fucking easy to cry/
the wrong things are the ones people know/
No one knew I was trying to die/
and I feel like there's an open wound somewhere/
under a rain of salt/
I can't seem to locate it anyplace or anywhere/
and that is no one's fault/
30 years ago, I had my ass kicked/
and no tear has been falling/
but light melancholy or a harsh word/
can have me crawling/
My skins so thin, I bet you can see through it/
but someone now is trying to find a way/
I believe in her, she wants to do it/
I feel less burn, my flesh much less frayed/
Because I don't want the hurt anymore/
I no longer have the strength to carry it/
She wants to take it off, hand it to me/
and watch me as I bury it.....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-55580260290222420352011-12-19T19:56:00.001-08:002011-12-19T19:59:03.283-08:00He's there, all right.Suspended animation<br />
when he comes<br />
out of the shadows<br />
oh, he knows<br />
he makes me sick<br />
inhabits me<br />
uses others<br />
and their actions<br />
and images of them<br />
to make me bleed<br />
and he's aware<br />
that he scares<br />
the shit out of me<br />
his name is doubt<br />
he smiles death<br />
he smiles clout<br />
when he comes<br />
he overcomes<br />
everything<br />
and i bleed<br />
in my sleep<br />
until I cry<br />
and he still won't let me be.....<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-76178849645028807092011-12-13T19:17:00.000-08:002011-12-13T19:20:36.399-08:00Dandelion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOBJSAyP-tn0rRkmtRkwxNMK8nzQq4VRP2wARY9oCarMn-dURkuYbZWf2SJQghz2MVpekUokIwqPnP5xhIR-1xGSLM1tPgK9qhuJ6JtFRThxvFGVuiLcbd-v3HMrlU3LH-MHDrKe9U4GY/s1600/dandelion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOBJSAyP-tn0rRkmtRkwxNMK8nzQq4VRP2wARY9oCarMn-dURkuYbZWf2SJQghz2MVpekUokIwqPnP5xhIR-1xGSLM1tPgK9qhuJ6JtFRThxvFGVuiLcbd-v3HMrlU3LH-MHDrKe9U4GY/s200/dandelion.jpg" /></a></div>
lying in the grass<br />
on my stomach<br />
elbows down, chin in hands<br />
<br />
talking to a dandelion<br />
<br />
It wants to know<br />
why that bright popping yellow<br />
is an eyesore, to the world<br />
<br />
I don't know, I said<br />
<br />
Maybe because dandelions<br />
aren't hard work<br />
you're just there, eternal<br />
<br />
the dandelion cried<br />
<br />
I understood this.<br />
<br />
Is the world we live in<br />
set to see beauty<br />
only in things that cost<br />
or come from indelible effort?<br />
<br />
Are we not allowed<br />
to be awed<br />
by something that the planet<br />
just gives us<br />
<br />
or asks little from us for?<br />
<br />
I left the dandelion there<br />
in the corner of my yard<br />
and never cut him down<br />
<br />
and when he turned gray<br />
as all things eventually do<br />
and his seeds were cast to the wind<br />
<br />
I smiled a little<br />
knowing there would be hundreds more because of him<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-1454790536728452622011-12-12T18:08:00.001-08:002011-12-13T20:00:42.981-08:00Too Late For Redemption<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/zhygaL2-EHk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
I've never understood the acceptance of a bricklayer<br />
and I have always been suspicious of guitar players<br />
I've spent too many years as a nightmare slayer<br />
I've long believed I have never had a prayer<br />
<br />
I'm buried somewhere beneath these all these layers<br />
<br />
I guess I never thought to put my hand out at the dance<br />
The thievery of others made me believe I had no chance<br />
Never saw a painting of love I thought I could enhance<br />
It's hard to focus your walk when you're in a trance<br />
<br />
I'm lost somewhere in with the dirt and the ants<br />
<br />
So who do I think the man in the mirror is now<br />
The one who expects a warning shot across his bow<br />
Drives to work augmented with suicidal know-how<br />
The man who had fantasies he will no longer allow<br />
<br />
I'm lost somewhere without love endowed<br />
<br />
Haven't had a day where I didn't have hate<br />
for those that take for granted what I never could create<br />
cracking bones, sore feet, reheated food on my plate<br />
ice cold sheets, pillows, and blankets await<br />
<br />
I'm too exhausted, too lonely, too cried out to be irate<br />
<br />
wanting to lay in bloodstains on the floor<br />
wandering aimlessly out on the moors<br />
waiting for the claws and teeth that won't be ignored<br />
and that pop and smoke that closes the door<br />
<br />
I don't want to be lost here anymore<br />
surrounded but ignored.<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-86842558784879436362011-11-17T19:26:00.001-08:002011-11-17T20:38:38.644-08:00Empty Room<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/f0clS4P4GlE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
--4 February days in a mental hospital--beginning with the day of the 24 inch snowstorm.--<br />
There's a shadow over there<br />
one or two cast by my hair<br />
the window shows gray<br />
I'm by myself today<br />
There's no one else in here<br />
to lay their head upon my shoulder<br />
I cock my head in the mirror<br />
am I really that much older?<br />
Arms wrapped around my knees<br />
as the sun stumbles down the sky<br />
maybe I should stand and run<br />
or then again I could lay here and sigh<br />
I've been brought here to cry<br />
I feel like I came here to lie<br />
The mirror wants me here to die<br />
There's a shadow over there<br />
it's just me and it<br />
it has a steely-eyed stare<br />
and I don't care<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-57611086801344560952011-11-17T16:05:00.001-08:002011-12-23T15:41:21.838-08:00Daddy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuTDIxo33F-sqJyLwK11GQ0Fc_qEp1L1BSlNFMLdC98crdZEs06mWPzDIncIB3nElYJwVV7GgVEgrUe457AqDpDto199gUYImj6-2dr_SLWmFU04xjJJDiyj8tM7Mq38CpgYJ5evGqoow/s1600/daddy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuTDIxo33F-sqJyLwK11GQ0Fc_qEp1L1BSlNFMLdC98crdZEs06mWPzDIncIB3nElYJwVV7GgVEgrUe457AqDpDto199gUYImj6-2dr_SLWmFU04xjJJDiyj8tM7Mq38CpgYJ5evGqoow/s200/daddy.jpg" /></a></div>
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/C2uu_lXOYQ0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
Sitting at the kitchen table<br />
chin resting on my knuckles, exhaling....sharply.<br />
You've been long gone....<br />
Daddy, I have questions<br />
What about that alternator I need your help with?<br />
What about that life-changing situation I have to ask you about?<br />
Where am I supposed to go with this....<br />
sometimes I pick up the phone like you might actually be at the other end<br />
I'm a crazy bastard.<br />
Big things are happening<br />
and I can't find that crack of light under the door<br />
and you're not there for the answer<br />
I'm helpless and hopeless, daddy<br />
I turn in circles<br />
sky of blue<br />
tears of clear<br />
hair flies around<br />
and the tears sling loose<br />
and there's not a safe place for me to stop<br />
or for the tears to drop.<br />
Daddy why aren't you there to catch me anymore?<br />
Your tools are gone<br />
Your smell is gone<br />
I've got a picture, and a few of your toys,<br />
but I stand in the living room, I can feel you there<br />
Please say something, Daddy.<br />
Because it's your answers I want<br />
because I can't make a move without them....<br />
Daddy?<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-84417362071742281442011-11-15T17:02:00.001-08:002018-03-27T15:13:16.454-07:00Absolution and Retribution<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Cain carried in his cracked and<br />
weather beaten hand<br />
an Iris as beautiful as the falling sun<br />
and the beach's twinkling sand<br />
<br />
He gently showed the flower to some nearby little girls<br />
with it's delicate, brittle stems, leaves, and twirls<br />
he then squeezed his hand tight<br />
and blood flowed through his fingers and dripped<br />
<br />
dripped down into the grass.....<br />
<br />
Cain said to the little girls that this is what<br />
God does to all beauty<br />
He bleeds it dry, turning it into<br />
whores and manual duty<br />
<br />
Cain then dropped the Iris and walked away<br />
as the little girls laughed in their curious and naive way<br />
they attempted to fix the mangled Iris<br />
for the remainder of their day<br />
<br />
Cain walked chuckling through<br />
a great and heavy door<br />
Where a flick of the Morningstar's wing<br />
slit his throat from neck to floor<br />
<br />
As Cain gurgled and breathed his last<br />
Lucifer knelt down low<br />
Putting his fingertips to his lips<br />
and breathed....<br />
<br />
"It's not for them to know."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-66456658847889802802011-11-10T16:09:00.001-08:002011-11-10T16:12:50.589-08:00Claws and SleepIt comes at 330<br />
rifle shot, lightning bolt<br />
sometimes I remember<br />
More often I don't<br />
<br />
but I always cry<br />
<br />
I don't like to look<br />
at that door<br />
every damn night<br />
what's in store?<br />
<br />
but I have to see<br />
<br />
because no one can live without sleep<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-24726170067397330902011-08-04T11:57:00.000-07:002011-08-04T18:09:27.166-07:00Don says do overMoving through life<br />accomplishing things<br />secure, but never felt right<br /><br />there was something missing<br />left me searching the sky<br />under the dark of night<br /><br />Everything I felt, all of the time<br />was a twisted version<br />of what should have been<br /><br />You'll never know <br />how wrong it is<br />til someone comes around the bend<br /><br />and they are holding hands<br />exchanging kisses and smiles<br />resting shoulders on heads<br /><br />So I'm cracking the emptiness<br />walking away from the weight<br />and I no longer wish to be dead.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-48534853075844505812011-07-07T08:11:00.000-07:002011-07-07T08:13:09.266-07:00fadedI promise you a story<br /><br />about faded glories....<br /><br /> <br /><br />Neon crosses<br />Dirty water from cheap faucets<br />stained and wrinkled sheets<br />broken from underused heat<br /><br /> <br /><br />People once liked to visit and stay<br /><br />before my decline chased them away<br /><br /> <br /><br />this is what I've become<br /><br />a mess, but not quite undone<br /><br /> <br /><br />Used to be somebody<br />drawing laughter and smiles<br />had the effect of honey<br />now I'm just drawing flies<br /><br /> <br /><br />There were those who looked up to me<br /><br />they're now looking down at me<br /><br />I put poison in the attics<br />Now I know what the rats see<br />I put poison in the addicts<br />Now I know what the rat sees<br /><br /> <br /><br />I promised you a story....<br /><br />You know I'm good for it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-28922220542310739732011-07-07T08:04:00.001-07:002011-07-07T08:04:40.390-07:00Printers Ink, Waiting Room BluesWhy do I feel like my clothes are all wet? My hair is pulling me down. Back to the chair, back to the waiting room with the never ending clock and the never mending staff.<br /><br />sitting in my shrink's office, in his waiting room, I find that it is a place of information.<br />I've found out that our baseball team sucks, and that Burt Bacharach, Billy Squier, and Ving Rhames share the same birthday.<br /><br />I've found that newsprint comes off on your fucking hands.<br /><br />I've found that in a shrinks office, others waiting cry softly.<br />I tighten up, shudder. I know my issues, what could theirs be....?<br /><br />Will there be less answers for me than for them...If God decides between one of us...which?<br />Hell, if she's crying, it should be her<br /><br />but then again, I'm the one destroying things with an aluminum bat.<br />Praying to a god that I don't believe exists. In the shower. Alleluias from within the steam.<br /><br />Ever been on your hands and knees in the shower? For a reason other than pleasure?<br /><br />Jon and Kate are no longer together I learn in here. The television has a great recipe for ziti....fuck pasta, I'm losing my mind....this room is making it worse....Receptionists with their plastic smiles.....their scrubs though they never see a patient.....<br /><br />Perhaps Bacharach, Squier, and Rhames can form a 3-piece combo, do an album and have the proceeds benefit the poorhouse Milwaukee Brewers....<br /><br />Ink coming off on my fingers, goddamn black newsprint....dry hands simply rubbing it in, smearing it....Looks like Hitchcock's blood from "Psycho"<br /><br />"the only way to get there is to go straight down".... I hear in my head...last song heard. Last word read was the finale of a paragraph from Cosmo on how a woman can use 27 ways to get a man to come without touching him......I'm getting pizza when I leave here.....gonna come back to the parking lot here, eat it, and plan to burn the motherfucker down....<br /><br />the print from the cosmo/come article, the pizza box, running between my fingers.<br /><br />Christ it's all melting away soaking into my skin, the news, the advice, the weather forecast lies, local cuisine....I rub my hands together, but it won't fucking come off<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />my name's called...it's all gone....<br /><br />"Wait til tomorrow"<br />last song heard.<br /><br />"Have him arch his back"<br />last article read<br /><br /><br />Billy Squier<br />It's his birthday.<br /><br />I'm going to get a prescription. and hopefully an answer.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4642213189568804892.post-91366198164071800612011-07-07T07:50:00.001-07:002011-07-07T07:50:53.087-07:00HilariousIsn't it funny when you're younger<br /><br />Oh say 18, 19....where you think you know what it is you need?<br /><br />You think you've got it all figured out?<br /><br /> <br /><br />Then you spend the next 20 years accumulating what those things you think you have to have are, whether they be material, physical, emotional, or some sort of half-assed career.<br /><br />The next thing you know you're careening towards 40, and you realize that not only did you pull together a bunch of shit that you're unsure about, but hey, for Fuck's sake, you're still not sure what it is you need.<br /><br /> <br /><br />Much less what it is you want.<br /><br /> <br /><br />Isn't it funny?<br /><br /> <br /><br />Looking back at 16, when the world was minty fresh, music was my life, movies were events, girls were temptresses, and jobs were disposable, it doesn't seem all that long ago. No it doesn't. It was half a lifetime ago, but seems like a couple years at the most.....<br /><br /> <br /><br />I don't feel all that different.<br /><br /> <br /><br />Sure, I look like hell compared to then, my bones creak, my back's shot, the only difference is an expanded vocabulary and 20 pounds of labor-created muscle. Unlike a lot of my contemporaries, music still is my life, and movies are still events. While women may not exactly be temptresses anymore, being a hopeless romantic, I fret that I have yet to figure them out. My horrible, awful, soul-sucking job is indispensable, and not even close to the throw-away variety.<br /><br /> <br /><br />Everyone around me has changed. I haven't. Not one lick.<br /><br /> <br /><br />Isn't that a goddamned hoot?<br /><br /> <br /><br />I still don't know what it is I exactly want, and the fates and darknesses of the recesses of my mind have told me, "Rob, chances are you can't get it anyway."<br /><br /> <br /><br />Damn. That's some cold shit.<br /><br /> <br /><br />So, every morning I look in the mirror and still don't know who that person staring back at me is. What does this bastard want? <br /><br /> <br /><br />How can I give it to him?<br /><br /> <br /><br />Does he want to write the Great American Novel? Does he want endless romance and abundant fantasy? <br /><br />Or does he just want to be left alone in his indecipherable misery, and lonely self-questioning?<br /><br /> <br /><br />Hell, I'm him and I don't even know what the motherfucker is thinking.<br /><br /> <br /><br />Hilarious.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0