when I was a young kid there was no room in our house so I had to sleep in the crawlspace above the house
It was winter and the crawlspace was uninsulated and there was
a small old space heater from the 1970’s that didn’t do anything
unless you were right up next to it.
Sometimes I would get up
next to it
and the sleeping bag would start to burn on the edges
I’d wake up and move away from it because it would burn
the sleeping bag.
One night it was very cold but I didn’t turn on
the heater because I didn’t want to melt a giant hole in the
sleeping bag for good and maybe burn myself. That night
while I was sleeping a brown recluse spider bit me on the hip.
It mustv crawled in to the sleeping
bag with me because it was cold
The next morning the bite had swollen
up like half a golf ball and in the middle was
a sort of purple spot where the skin was most affected by
necrosis and that spot
already looked like it wanted to let
out all the pus inside. I knew that there was pus inside
because it had swollen so much and sort of felt solid but
squishy. I didn’t do anything about it that day
because I didn’t know what kind of a bite it was.
The next night
was very cold because it was early february but I didn’t want to
melt my sleeping bag again. The temperature gauge in the crawl
space said it was 34 because some of the heat from the
house did leak in to the crawlspace because it was uninsulated.
I had lots of clothes on but only had a pair of baggy
jeans and my legs were bare under that. That night the
same spider must have crawled in to the sleeping bag
up my pants leg. The next morning the bite from two
nights before had gone to hell because I hadn’t done
anything to treat it right away and I had rolled on to
it the next night and it had turned yellow and purple
and the skin on the whole area was necrotic but on top
of the first bite was a second bite that had started to swell
up as well. I thought this was funny because I was young
and nasty stuff is funny when you’re young.
I sort of squeezed at the fleshy mass and a bit of
liquid came out but not a whole lot of liquid.
There was obviously an obstruction. So I took
a metal needle and heated it up with a lighter to
make it easier to pierce the skin. When it
was red hot I pushed right in to
the top of the hole where the purple was and
it started letting out little bits of pus. I wasn’t
satisfied with the amount it was producin
g but since the hole from the needle went in really deep
I figured a lot more would come out if I pushed on
either side of the lump. At first there was mostly
light red blood and some white pus that was watery
and it sort of ran out. No matter how hard
I pushed it only a little bit of puss would come out.
I left it alone but came back to it later on and by
this time a scab had formed over the top of the hole
. I ripped this off and continued to push on to the
sides of the lump which by this time had lost some
of its original form because the skin was dead
on and around the lump. It had caved in like little
indentations of my fingers where I had pressed
but no liquid came out. The second bite had taken
care of any skin on the first bite that might have
missed the necrosis and even it had its own little lump
coming out of the first. My entire leg was sore
because the muscle tissue was necrotic deep down.
By the next day the skin had died and changed in such a
way I never thought I would ever see a part of myself.
It had turned a dark yellow and the purple was a
solid purple that didn’t mix with the yellow. As
I scratched at it, the skin peeled off in layers and
I kept scratching at the skin and it kept peeling off.
It got to a point where I knew I could just bust
the whole thing open if I really squeezed at it and
it all just came out. The blood in the middle
was blackish and the pus was thick and lumpy
like oatmeal. There was lots and lots of it in there.
After that the spider bit me again on the same hip
but about a month later. By this time the first bites
had healed to an indented scar where the skin had healed
but not come back. The third bite wasn’t as bad as the first
but it still died and rotted away like the first.
Spiders are ok because they don’
t bite people who didn’t have it coming. As much as I’d like to
think I could have prevented that from happening I would gladly let the spider in to my sleeping bag again
if it was cold but with no guarantee I wouldn’t roll on to it and I say this with warm feelings.
When the last of the daylight kisses the feet of the moon and night becomes the dawn of the rising,surprised I awake on the lakeside of sorrow where tomorrow sheds tears for the time allows nothing to stand,
I obey laws of physics though consult with the mystics and the doyens of the beer hall only watch as I call to my maker, thief taker,partaker in murder,to kill dead the silence that roars in my ears.
At the bottom of this glass sits the truth that I search for,but as I reach the finale I find only the floor,it's like the dawn of the rising and no less surprising to me.
If I talk with the shadows that shiver in the doorway,they only say to me, 'spare some change for a cup of tea?'
questions that bother me bitterly, I so agree with the Government policy to ignore everything that doesn't look right to me,
and night even more looks surprisingly, like something I wore once on Wednesday.
They say that this madness creeps up on you and the way it attacks is like it's fukin you,as I've never looked back at my retinue I can't tell if the last statement is true or not,
but you've got what I consider to be the utter truth, as I fly downwards and climb to the slate grey roof where the owls there will greet me with beaks set to eat me,
I wake and sleeps beats me again.
I've got these cat like
Long ass days
Lying next to you.
I write you this letter,
hoping to make things better.
Not really sure what happened,
it wasn't quite what I imagined.
We were once the best of friends,
what can I do to make amends.
You don't answer my telephone calls,
did you suddenly loose your balls.
Not sure what I did so wrong,
thought our friendship was very strong.
We used to do everything together,
not a storm we couldn't weather.
Now I'm bored and feeling alone,
will you please just throw me a bone.
My once pal, I hope you're not my enemy,
remember when we planned to kill Kennedy,
Then we killed and buried Jimmy Hoffa,
we drowned our guilt with a bottle of vodka.
I'm starting to worry, maybe you're missing,
remember all the girls we shared kissing.
We had a menage a trois every night,
our future was so bright.
I miss our random killing spree,
nothing made us feel more free.
We were called the dynamic duo,
now I'm just riding solo.
I picked up a newspaper and what did I see,
you were found at the bottom of the sea.
Now I know why you never returned my text,
I better run or I'll be next.
No reason to send this letter now,
then one day while milking my cow,
the F.B.I. gave me a visit,
I had no get out of jail ticket.
I got sentenced to the penalty of death,
I wish we were together when we took our last breath.
It's not all bad, if you can still smile at something
And have a moment of commonality with someone
If you can still talk without fear, it's not all bad
And it's not bad at all if someone listens.
Imagine that? And if someone agrees, well you're ahead of me
And if They agree, well then you've got something there
And if you've got Them hooked on every word you say
Well then you've got yourself an army there.
It becomes a movement, just be sure you're aware
That when it's bigger than just you, and you alone
Someone else can lead the way, so take care
Because now you've got a movement of your own
And when a movement moves, you can't control too much
Even as their leader, you're just another man in the rush.
I'm sitting here on the couch
Mug in hand, spliff in mouth
And I think to myself,
"things are good".
Things aren't great,
but things aren't bad.
There is no real reason
Why I should be sad.
Though I haven't a penny,
Nickle or dime
I have a roof and a cat
Who's getting a touch fat
So why the hell am I crying?
I have a passion, a drive
That's been left unfulfilled
And I want to, so badly
To sit here and stagnate
To 'moss' if you like
Leaves me wanting
I don't, I'm polite.
My neighbours are people
With problems like me
From doubting their life
To forgetting the key.
So I'll be quiet
And I'll not make a sound
I'll watch a funny video
And I'll eventually come 'round.
Though, the future scares me
It brings many things:
From ups to downs,
Smiles to frowns,
From terrifying clowns,
To nights out on the town,
And hopefully, plenty of asses
That are gorgeously round.
So I've got to rally
Be in good form
They say it gets better
Or it is always wetter
Before the eye of the storm.
I once knew a girl called fly
A magical girl
One that could fly high,
Higher than the clouds,
Higher than the moon,
Higher than the planets,
Higher than the glazing sun,
Even higher than the highest things ,
Thoughts thoughts millions of them,
You'd be surprised to see all of them floating around you,
But when fly flew through the wondrous clouds,
Bunches of foamy fluffed shapes formed like candy floss,
Up until the highest thoughts,
From Tazmanian clouds to words on the page of a book,
fly died that day,
she never returned home,
her family was sick of worry,
years later her mother followed her little fly in death,
Her father and little brother Miikey, lived for a while but soon Miikey got stabbed with an axe by accident by an old man in the forrest chopping trees,
fly's father was the only one left, he soon died of old age at the age of 106,
soon enough people started to talk about fly's family,
thy said wow look at that kite fly,
fly was proud of that,
and now from this day people talk about fly,
some even say if you sit on the top of the highet hill in high vally on the night the moon is full and at i's highest point you may see a glimps of fly flying through the dead winter night sky.
Drink a toast to the dreams that got lost.
Sat in a world of the single minded.
The location of shattered dreams lost.
No longer whispering.
Ghosts of long gone dreams wail.
They scream as banshees of doom.
Predicting solitary misery.
Quite happy really,
Hell maybe, I am,
I am not.
The music plays and I drown in it.
Swallowing it, hook line and sinker.
This funny woman,
A deep thinker.
An amusing muser.
She lives on the planet of miserable cow.
The couple next door.
Sharing a lunch,
One between two.
In oblivious dreams of true romance.
New romantics perhaps.
As lucky sods and demi-gods,
They sat and munched their lunch.
The she listens to the music, listless.
In a place where no-one can dance.
Tapping my foot in time.
Yes my friend.
I said in time
And the music strokes the air.
The music gets stuck in my auburn hair.
Soul to soul,
she is bare,
My coffee went cold.
Should I maybe be so bold.
To stay and listen to more.
And the music became more.
So much more.
My inspiration on this glorious day.
Passion in full view.
C'est la vie.
(And Alaric ,my friend).
May the devil enjoy my play on words,
Such injustice be kindly greeted.
Would prefer to tickle angels, with my words instead.
Sooner meet the Lord of Love,
When I end up dead!
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Split myself in half
To take a good look at myself.
And the only thing I found
Was half of him missing
I asked him, he told me
The only thing he found
Was half of me missing
Sewed us back together
And got lost, so I
Split myself in half
To find A Good Look in myself
sweet, sweet boy
i've seen you a-sittin' there
waiting for that older girl
with those bright eyes
and kind smile.
now southern boy
dont you drop a penny
cause she's a rich girl with class
and yer not gettin' her chastity
and yer not takin' her money
cause yer a proud son of an ass
and broken boy
why you still not takin' no bandages?
cause yer stubbornness is breakin' er
when yer the one who's bleedin'
oh, i can see it all repeatin'
what you dont know is she loves you
and yer in love too
but all this time you been thinking its sympathy
got this idea that you mean nothing to nobody
boy it's hurtin' er
it's hurtin me
cause baby boy
i see you as my own
im a-thinkin' you need to take a stand
she might be a stunner
only one who don take you as a sinner
but youve been forgettin'
that though shes a fine woman
y'always been a real good man
seen you cryin' tears
shes paradin' round
with a polished fella'
but why you aint been askin' her
"whens the weddin'"
when you think its comin'
honey, no girl in love
shows up at some lib'ary
when theres a man who orders sherry
im a-sure you feel
but you don see it
and sure as nothin' do you believe it
waitin', waitin' boy
how long you gon be sittin' there
that girl gave you time
but you didnt use it
and now im crying'
i can tell theres still love
but shes been taken
and now yer a drunk
lost, lost boy
im a-beggin' here
cause i know its not her fault
and she thinks it was
and now we both afraid
cause you not even tryin' a-hide it
but yer becomin' yer father
and he was filled with hate
hes a gone, gone boy
im a sinner with a prayer
that her husband dies
an he drops the liquor
and they both survive
but, hes an old, old man