it was a dry mojave afternoon,
with crows cursing shrilly
the streetlamps bearing broken bulbs
and the striped cat sleeping in the sun.
the wind drew frantic breaths,
exhaling dead leaves over the hill
and sending the blackbirds
spiraling into the sky.
a lizard stirred, somniferous almond eyes
gazing lethargically over his rock
and at the old man on the porch
leaning back- impossibly uncomfortable in his rickety wooden chair.
his name was Jackson.
gnarled gray hair mixed with gnarled gray beard
appropriately framing a pinched, ornery visage
and tattered clothes adorned his whisper of a body.
it was his sixty-fourth year here in the desert-
on the fifty-second he'd lost his wife
on the fifty-eighth he'd gained a kitten
named him Waldrop and let him kill the mice and lizards.
'sixty four years is a long time,'
a thought murmured in the back of his head
eyelids peeling back to give a cursory glance to Waldrop
who was stalking the reptile watching him.
he remembered his twentieth birthday
when Edna had first said she loved him
and he remembered that glorious July morning
where she said she was his forever.
he remembered the pain of labor
down in the factory,
and the camaderie with his fellows
chewing tobacco and cursing the bosses.
he remembered the time spent weeping,
but remembered more the time spent laughing
in places miles and miles away
that now seemed imaginary.
exhaustion echoed through tired bones
and he wondered who would feed the cat,
drooping eyes closing one last time
to await the warmth of sunset.
see I float around society like a plastic bag sometimes
unseen unless someone needs me
and there are so many truths I've seen
these are the undeniable facts:
Beauty: women love beauty. they are consumed by it. it feeds them till they die, clutching stylish cases and well-worn tubes and knuckles bruised by constant forcing, or they sit in darkened obscure corners waiting for a no-name prince to charm them into believing lies, avoiding mirrors along the way.
Intelligence: it's okay to be smart but not so smart that a man feels five inches tall against the length of the word you just uttered with smooth unaffectedness, if you do that he falters, feels as though his life has been false, and then he tells you to stop reading your books. and you do it, because you fear you may lose him. women hide from the monsters of science and math, drown in the seas of history and literature and pretend all the while, giggles in every breath's pause, that they just don't know. because no one wants a woman who can recite Chaucer but can't even press a decent crease or bake a good cherry pie.
Hard Work Ethic: women were born to work. they work to maintain an illusion, they work to get a man, they work to keep him, they work to make him feel superior, they work in cramped cubicles and then in cramped apartments, making them uncramped, and then in cramped bedrooms under cramped sheets, trying to hide their leg cramp so as to not disturb his concentration.
Confidence: women hate other women who are confident. because those women have learned to disregard every lesson from charm school, and everyone else struggles to find the perfect hair flip. secretly, women love another woman with confidence. because it shows them they can be that reckless one day.
Dress: women want the short skirt in the window. but the directions on the tag are as follows:
DO NOT WEAR WHILE DRINKING. DO NOT WEAR IN COLD WEATHER. DO NOT WEAR WITHOUT PANTYHOSE. DO NOT WEAR IF OVER 130 POUNDS. DO NOT WEAR IN THE COMPANY OF DRUNK MEN. DO NOT WEAR TO SPORTING EVENTS. DO NOT WEAR IN THE PRESENCE OF OTHER WOMEN. DRY CLEAN ONLY. women leave the skirt on the hanger.
Strong Personality: women tell other women to be quiet and keep their heads low. that is all they know. when they were little girls they used to shout. then they became teenagers and were taught to whisper when they wanted something. whispers are saved for secrets, lies and things women want.
Competition: women want men. women want other women. women want people. women are told they want men. women fight for men, because they are taught men are the ultimate prize. women win men and are disappointed with the terms and conditions that apply. but it's too late. they've already won. women wonder what they were fighting for in the first place.
Affluent: women wish money didn't matter but when they're counting pennies for every man's dollar it's hard to ignore.
women are told by men their mothers their sisters their teachers their bosses their world
that they are too loud trashy ugly fat hairy dirty loose slutty uptight frigid emotional stoic competitive timid.
women tell other women these things and think their world will love them for it. women love other women, but begin to believe they don't.
biggest problem women have is with a world that thinks they can't handle their own shit.
Orange colored skies
Tales of burned empires
Days when party bosses were kings
In the era that Boss Tweed pulled the strings
I walk these city streets and each corner speaks volumes of history to me
But your street remains a mystery
Untouched and ivy grown
I hear the distant sounds of a trombone
Harlem calls to me to listen
Having never been there, i dont know what im missing
But i long for the days where jazz was the popular music
Back in the days of grand old acoustic
Bass, drums, piano, and trumpet
Cab Calloway, Count Basie and the beating of a drumstick
Im not certain i was born in the right age
But pondering ifs and or buts is the work of a sage
There is however one thing i know for sure
That in all of time and history, id like to be your cure
We are accomplices
our bosses believing
we are ill.
But it is
but a partial lie-
we are sick
of the stupidity,
come with me
my beautiful liar,
on our stolen day.
in the water,
my gift to you.
a canoe to fly
us over the water
to the island
where we first
joined in love
so long ago....
painted on the side
for Morning Star.
We paddle slowly
down the river,
over a century before
the braves of
Black Hawk scouted
from a group of
rag tag ruffians
led by a young
Silence wraps us
in her loving embrace.
It is as if
we are the first
to see all this-
around each bend
of the river,
The setting sun
brings new life
to the river-
out of the water,
of unseen animals.
We reach the island
where years before
we first said "yes"
to each other.
The flickering fire light
a magic perimeter
the wine providing
The time that's passed
has only added,
My heart beats
even faster now
then it did then.
I cannot believe
how beautiful you are,
have touched you
a subtle understanding
and of love,
So much love,
you have given me.
I know not why-
And don't dare question
But I know this.
I will love you
no matter what
of my life.
we go back-
back on the ramparts
fighting for our
souls and sanity.
let us enjoy
our stolen night
as we lie
beneath the starry sky.
Here in the city
daily news is nerve wracking
inspired I'm naught
by thoughts of rush hour
my coffee's not soothing
~ nothing calms me down!
I trudge out the door
gonna skip work again today
and head for the woods
but, I'm gonna be poor
if I keep running away
so turn my car south
~ and try to calm down!
my mind's eye pictures
bosses and various jerks
so fist pumping the air
dodging cars and trucks
exhaust's emit foul perks
orange barrels keep lurking
~ I better calm down!
so if you get in my way
ya may get see arms flailing
I hate this dang traffic
with bonus construction
it ain't a game I wanna play
my heart is fluttering again
~ whew! I just can't calm down!
This poem explains the best reason for changing my location & to do my writing inspired in God's quiet nature.
they say "hell is empty and the devils are here"
i guess then it makes sense, that at night i see all of my deepest fears
the ghouls and the ghosts and the demons are real
they come to live in the minds of men who can't feel
they inhabit the bodies of bosses who fuel corporate greed
they're bloodthirsty animals, just desperate to feed
they feed on your hope until there is nothing left
your colours get erased and they leave you bereft
and when you find that your life has dulled to a gray
maybe you'll realize that you have nothing to say
because you're just like the rest, you've become a clone
you're nothing more than a corporate american drone
my biggest fear is that this will happen to me
i'm petrified of the soulless shell i could come to be
so try as i might, and try as i may
i'll do what i want, no, i won't obey
i'm going to live by my very own laws
i'll fight to the end, and stay true to our cause
i refuse to be like my mom, striving for perfection
my every last thought will show through my own reflection
i won't be a slave to your american dream
i'll be myself, even if i have to scream
Mickey was a murderer
Malevolent and heartless
Likely killed a courier
Tempted by his progress
Made to feel inferior
Delivering the knowledge
His emptied eyed exterior
Empowering the bosses
Always had an an opened ear
Could reinact the process
Always tried to keep it clear
He filtered out the nonsense
Always had a deagle near
Mickeys thoughts were loss less
Always ordered steak and beer
As he slithered from the charges
Always knew the ends as cure
But begginings were the hardest
The waters ever murkier
And fogging up his goggles
Never feared what's lurking there
The details were his doctorate
He knew who was what
And what was where
The devils were his hostages
Only hostile to his care
As he spelled it out with markers
Only rich to others fare
He was cleaning out their closets
As only those who know who dared
Know how they finally lost him
On the court
she is a calculator
Texas Instruments tattooed on her shoulder
On the court
she is a fire chief
Barking orders like a high strung dalmatian
On the court
she is Agent J
Picking physics-loving Tiffany out from the monster crew
she is waist-deep
in the muck of academia
slogging ever more slowly
through the murk
toward the crisp vellum
of someone else's
wanting to know
through the mire
toward the cubicle prison
of taking orders
from bosses or
On the court
she is a calculator
Texas Instruments tattooed on her shoulder
In her mind
she climbs the walls
of the slime-sided well
On her terms
she lifts her face to a sunlight
that is hers alone.
He rolled a tumbleweed of chaos hitting the floor like a ton of bricks.
Fuck that really looked like it hurt the voice said at the top of the stairs .
The man paused only to light his cigarette and begin his decent down the stairs.
Fuck please look tell MR O'Bannon I'll have the money next Wednesday I promise.
The beaten down bastard said blood slightly pouring from his mouth .
Yeah and I thought last time we gave you a week you would clear everything up pal.
With that the man drove a boot into the man on the floors ribs you could hear whatever air was left in the man expel from him a balloon popped at a child's carnival.
It always came to this he thought and it was the shit he hated most as he took another deep drag and blew the smoke a dragon amongst the lambs.
the victim was Tommy Owens he was a first class gambling fiend with as much luck for betting
as a blind man would have for driving a car on the interstate.
The orders were clear either collect the money or close Tommy's marker.
Jack had known the dumb bastard half his life just all the other stupid bastards who saw hope in swimming with sharks.'
MR O'Bannon was a ruthless scumbag who fed on his own kind and controlled this beaten down neighborhood and Jack was one of the reasons for it.
you think any business mans going to dirty his hands taking out his own garbage?
Jack was the trash man and his hands were permanently covered in his bosses dirty deeds.
Jack hated his job almost as much has he hated himself.
But sharks has have no other choice but to swim or die and he dam sure wasn't checking out anytime soon.
Tommy coughed in agony trying to breath and trying to get past the pain of a fresh pair of surely
He said in a voice more broken than his soul.
Please we've known each other since back in the day please just get me some more time please
What about my son?
He always hated when they used that card but if he were in the same fix jack knew he'd do whatever it took to get out of the certain outcome.
It's not like a movie when it comes to doing what has to be done .
In fact it's far more fucked up than any coked out movie director could imagine.
People cry they beg while others just go silent there the ones that always get to you.
Jack stood Tommy up .
I'll get you some more time alright just this is it my friend you know what happens if you screw this up.
Jack thank you man the tears welled up in Tommy's his eyes.
walking him back upstairs jack could no more tell you what Tommy babbled about than if you asked him a question about the worlds economy.
You have to be able to turn that switch of all humanity off in your head and that's what sperates the wolves from the lambs.
As he sat Tommy down in that drab old recliner he could only recall just how silent he was as he turned to leave .
And how even though he could feel the barrel of the pistol to the back of his head he said nothing.
Everyone deserves at least a grain of comfort and privacy even in death.
It was always that moment before that killed jack.
And as he left the apartment building the another scar and grain of dirt left under his nails and tarnish upon his soul .
He still recalled the sign he saw from the church that read.
Yes he loves even you.
Somehow jack thought to himself that wasn't probably meant for him.
And if he loved Tommy so very much he sure had fucked up way of showing it.
Sometimes you have to realize you cant play the game against a man who holds
a loaded deck.
And luck is just false hope for suckers.
I'm a story teller at heart and not everything in this life is easy or safe.
I kicked a hole in the wall
imprinteing my madness
like a urge.
lost my job today
at least I have a hero.
who took all my tears
frustration and fears
and threw them out
like salty fries.
at my bosses car, and the parking lot.
he covered me with his tin foil hat
as courage turned from pain.
god I love Mondays