I remember the ocean the sound no man could write and only we shared .
Drinks to wash away with the tide .
We spoke of things we knew could never be and the road was destined to curve sooner or later it seems .
My delusions and your body so perfectly laid out upon the sand and flawless setting sun the fire of imaginations and the passions of are drunken desires.
She was everything I needed and nothing to make me stay .
Maybe it's the moments like pictures scattered out across a dirty floor that allows us to linger or maybe I'm just another sentimental drunk like so many before .
I view you in that painting often in my minds gallery now more than ever as time has passed us by .
As wicked pleasures drove us and sounds like dreams simply were carried off into the dunes .
The most bitter wine can seem sweetest to lips now parched from the long search for the oasis.
And I have worn my miles like shoe leather now clearly on display upon my face .
That picture stands a watermark of happiness I seldom know now .
A postcard of a place I could never find again.
We all are haunted in some way my dear.
I wonder ?
Does that picture within your thoughts linger just the same ?
The magic doesn't exist between the sheets or is herd in the sounds of a drunken night whatever it was it has surely died.
Long since been taken away with the tide and I like so many others simply pick the bones of the greats clean.
In hopes to capture the essence I simply repackage the old lines as something new burning the candle at both ends existing a reject of today and a connection of what never was .
I am the bum in the street.
The fool in the cell drunk out his mind yearning only to howl at the moon to hear the sounds of my own madness .
I'm the burnout ,I'm the drunk who is all to happy to be left alone I need no shelter the storm is a friendly reminder .
The chaos lets me know I'm alive .
The burn kicks me in the ass and pushes me to another high I never needed the scene for I find company a burden and my own demons guide me for better than any you may know .
The candles flame cast shadows but never blinds the few who understand the battle for what it is.
The junks all the same just new names and the same train wreck.
The arrogance of youth cant touch the heat of the bitter old fool.
The ice in the glass and one last call to remind me it's fade until the next.
I may me be a throw back to another time .
But a slurred voices words still my own hold there weight .
Trends and tricks styles suited to please are best left to the clowns who seek acceptance from the page .
Sometimes you just have to stagger a bit to know your alive.
A American Madman's Farwell
I was fried from the scene in LA the lights the fake women with the perfect smiles and quick to jump in bed mentalities that if thinking you were a casting director were all to eager to sell there souls .
The were twisted insane drug addicts maybe that's why I had grown to feel at home amongst them and there demented ways.
I had grown numb to the excess the high quality drugs and all night binges .
My mornings were like rising from the dead more agony than pleasure
I found even now to arise from the crypt it took far more than a stiff drink and a good fuck I had to dam near summon a voodoo priestess to bring me back to the living good thing even the masters of the occult all desired to be famous and were already here .
Everyone was after the fast track that quick fix and I was just after yet another story.
I was just another snake in the garden all to eager to take advantage of the first opportunity to strike the innocent then leave them with a expensive habit and some cab fair in the morning .
I sat there as I do now ice in glass bottle on the table frustrated in need of something more one last adventure was on the horizon .
And my sights were set on the land down under .
Were the heat and mystery surrounded my thoughts where the page could breathe and my thoughts could take flight one last time .
I sat there a addict in need of another fix one that only a finally dose of adrenaline and adventure could curb my desires .
My choice was made long before my bags were packed.
and few lines and some stiff drinks were all I desired to see this road to its end .
I paid my bill packed my shit and was ready to be lost .
L.A. was a mistake always willing to happen and a new Atlantis destined to be at the bottom of the sea .
I was buckled in and blown out of my mind as the 747 blasted from tarmac bound for escape pointed towards the sky .
I was higher than Jesus and bound for a story that would be far beyond the depths of my own madness .
Sir would you like a drink ?
The stewardess asked me when we were stable within the clouds.
You can fill in the blank when it comes to my reply .
Just make sure it's a double .
Please fasten your belts ladies and gentlemen the madness will begin shortly .
See you soon Gonz
Another rainy night a lost emotion and a dependable vice did the train simply pass in the night leaving only a smokestacks embrace to the moonlit sky .
A single scar in a ocean of bad choices the naked view and the want is not need can we build from the nothing we are I lost interest and you simply lost the desire .
Passion is a infection that often is cleansed with time .
Old fools often resemble a mirrors reflection don't ask for what I cannot explain just be the person you no longer are and I will fade for now as well.
In steady rhythm together and so easily apart.
Salt water I recall the fantastic buzz by the ocean before the storm .
And now we are left only with this .
Its a perverse ending a dying flame .
I lost a time and you just simply a thought.
The page turned and we found a different story altogether.
Sometimes I think about viewing those pages deep within you.
Sometimes when it's dark and I'm alone.
Then I recall how I came to be here to begin with.
And I simply pour another drink and let those thoughts die with the passing night.
We are all shadows of are own choosing.
Broken dreams and cast stones
I've bared the burden
now simply rather collect dust.
In every line I breath as in life I simply decay
its all a blast till you see it for what it never was to begin with
Fallen stars and dim lit thoughts cast a jaded view over the night
And it's always a dream just before the nightmare takes hold
When the nightmare begins, I like to technicolor dream
I see the abyss for the small ditch it could be
I see a puddle of tears that won't become a river
never would I cry so incessantly, weep then move on
We can't erase the scars that choke on a dark night
we cant fight the hands that want to hold us down
broken dreams are signs we are ready for the fight
and every line is the only thing we can own
Forgotten fights lost conversations and past conquests loom heavy in this scene of good times and past regrets .
Can you take me to that place we know exists and all to often ignore sweetheart I'm not looking to change just be in the moment.
Dim lights and what never was the fire is a passion that never dies just is passed to another group for more of the same .
One last line and maybe take another home the emptiness suits some as time will bury us all.
Tonight is all that matters .
As we taste the wine that yesterday will never recall.
I'm the poet in the chaos and the writer in the moment That need be
Just a pawn of The words sweetheart I will be gone tommorow just the same.
Its all in a good time and a chapters end .
I will miss it one day.
Question is will they ever miss me.
We set a paper ship
upon the waters
in hope it will never know a storm
we have bared of our past
In hopes that maybe to gather
they could fair better than us
as clear skies graced our thought
now storm clouds loom heavy.
It's never as we planned
but never our fault.
Those paper ships slip
from between our fingertips
before we are ready to set sail
We watch them bob
upon traitorous waters
standing upon stormy land
and know only,
when they are lost at sea
that our casting off
Under moonlit nobility gets beyond our controls and storms
we seldom grasp, the ships sink faster than the images we have lives since painted within our thoughts.
It all comes full circle in the end
Full circle begins
when weeping upon a midnight beach
waiting for the debris to float in
To sit upon the sand
and not understand
how paper boats can't float
We set them out upon stormy seas
Hoping them fine and fair weather
only to see them smashed upon the shore
with no guidance from above
just a single feather
Buried deeply in their chest
a single hope
they could fly
now they lay broken
upon a distant shore
dying under a whisper
of... I tried