All poems found containing the word money
Trevor Gates "And too much money"

Welcome to tonight’s show

Allow me to introduce myself.

I go by many names


Some of which, you may know
But those do not need to be mentioned
a howl, a moan, a scream, a summoning
Let’s keep this interesting.


This is the midnight calling
This is the raven cawing

This is the shadow lurking
And the jackals slurping

The demons wailing
While Charon is sailing,

The Acheron
The river
The first

The Eternal song
Of dripping livers
and Thirst

Stop

This is all confusing
And amusing
To some
And many
But to me it is painful

Demeaning
Putrid
Repugnant
Detrimental
Disturbing

And

A subjective simmer of passivity
A pious dose of sheer calamity

Once upon a time

In a land past the desert
Was a neon capped city
Devoid of hope

And shaped by
Casual nihilism

And too much money

A powerful portrait in all its brevity
The display of sweltering people melting against the asphalt
The mucous sunscreen and coarse sand between the toes

And crooked nails
And bleached hair
And coffee stained teeth
And pink nails
And Gucci purses
And Versace dresses
Shutter Shades
Corvettes
$5 lap dances

And promiscuous preteen slaves
To MTV
VH1
Pop sensations
Internet porn
Social networks
Smart phones
Model rock stars
Models
Interviews
Auditions
Mundane seductively
For him
Or she
The nepotistic aficionado

of  

Delicious, robust, superb, disdain  
Cocaine: Nose Candy
Heroin: Snake venom
After Parties: Gang bang adrenaline
Snuff Film tryouts: Garage studio
LSD: Acid
Plastic: Lips, skins, breasts.
24/7
Hits of E
X-T-C

and

Do you have change for a hundred?
Or a change for a life?

Cites in Dust
Thank Siouxsie and the Banshees; A carnival.

Shout
Tears for Fears, they’re Head over Heels

Love will Tear Us apart
From Joy Division, who claims she’s lost control

Los Angeles
“X”
Exene and Billy Zoom’s Wild Gift.

The perpetual rise of sunset rockers and Neon knights.
Teens crawling through the muck of socialites and incubator nightmares
Civil borders wired by racial slurs and salivating bigotry
Water replaced by blood
Spit interchanged for souls
And fire traded for icy methamphetamine

Warriors and survivors

Poets and dreamers

Shooters and inhalers

Geeks and groupies

Burnouts and Dropouts

Sweet dreams are made of this



Such a show, such a show! Bravo Bravo! Thank you, thanks to all I have time to thank: Martin Sheen, Julius Ceasar, Fender Guitars, Randy Marsh, elbow pads, Chuck Berry, Al Green, X, Joy Division, Tears for Fears, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Less than Zero, Alucard, Humphrey Bogart, Grace Kelly, Daryl Dixon, George Harrison, Brad Pitt, Rooney Mara (Love you), Belstaff, Emma Watson (Love you too), Laure Heriard Dubreuil, Manolo Blahnik, Hannah Murray and Michele Abeles.

So many to mention, so little time. We’ll be back.

This is one of my favorites I've done so far in this series. I had just finished reading Less Than Zero by Bret Easton Ellis and watch Gregg Araki's films, The Doom Generation and Nowhere, which all three sum up the existentialism and merging rampancy of living in Los Angeles, California. An experience I will never forget.
David Walker ", white ass up and smoke a blunt! I got money lets run out of town to the White Castl"

Origins
written and directed
by
David Walker

Inspired
by
the films of
Quentin Tarantino
David Lynch
&
Rob Zombie

There is method
To his madness

                                                             ­                                                                 ­             January 2013              
                                                             ­                                                                 ­        first draft









1. EXT. Run down project apartment complex - 3:00 am

A dark, tall figure with long black hair and a trenchcoat opens the already cracked red door.

MAN:
I'm looking for love in all the wrong places.

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                  CUT TO:
INT. Apartment 3

A typical roach infested apartment with a kitchen built into the living room. 3 GIRLS are on the kitchen floor. GIRL # 1 one has black hair with big lips and a curvy frame and she is wearing a pair of Tripp pants and a black bra barely covering her ample bosom. She has a flesh colored rubber hose tied to her left arm. GIRL # 2 has dyed rainbow colored hair, a nice smile, and a skinny frame. She is wearing a pair of tore blue jeans with smiley faces and cute in jokes written on them, also not wearing a shirt with a lacy blue bra on. She has a spoon with water and black tar heroin inside it which she is heating up with a silver Zippo with the word "Skittles" engraved into it. GIRL # 3 Has long naturally red hair, glasses and an extremely voluptuous figure. She is wearing tight black pants and a black shirt with thin sleeves. She is inspecting a covered syringe with an unsure look in her eyes.

GIRL # 2:
So, do you wanna do it or not Jane?

Snatches the syringe out of JANE's hand.

JANE:
I'm not sure. How long have you been doing this shit?

Girl #2 takes the orange cap off the syringe revealing a small needle.

GIRL #2:
Since after I graduated. About 3 years. Liz you ready?

LIZ:
As ready as I am for dat sweet tang!

Girl #2 giggles. She sticks the needle into Liz's arm, blood mixes with the brown fluid inside, and she pushes the plunger down. Liz leans back into Girl #2's arms and Girl #2 gives her a kiss.

LIZ:
I love you, Julia.

JULIA:
Well, I love you too.

JANE:
You guys are so gay!

(OS):
Save that shit for the fucking customers!

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                               CUT TO:
Other side of room. A greasy looking MAN with short faded black hair and a scar going from the corner of his mouth to the right ear is sitting in a beat up recliner cleaning his Uberti 1873 Cattleman revolver while smoking a fat blunt and watching some kind of high budget porn with Sasha Grey in it.

JULIA:
Sorry, Mike. It didn't stop you from leaving me and Liz unsatisfied and bored, did it?

LIZ and JULIA laugh. JANE has a nervous look in her eyes.

MIKE:
Very fucking funny you wore out trick! Am I gonna have to smack the sass out yo mouth?

MIKE gets up, puts out his blunt and walks over to the GIRLS gun in hand.

MIKE:
Or am I gonna have to give your little friend a scar like mine.

LIZ:
Mike don't!

MIKE SLAPS JULIA with the side of his UNLOADED revolver and grabs JANE by her hair.

MIKE:
Who the fuck are you, anyways bitch?

JANE:
(stuttering)
I was walking down the street earlier today and I ran into Julia and Liz. They went to school with my sister I think. Let me go!

MIKE:
So you're a young'n. Well you have some nice big titties!

MIKE RIPS off her shirt exposing her breasts. He begins to squeeze the right one. JANE SLAPS MIKE HARD!

MIKE:
Bitch!

MIKE lets go of her hair. Jane runs to the other room grabbing her shirt. LIZ stumbles towards him and PUNCHES him in the nose.

MIKE:
That's it! You little cum dumpsters are dead!

MIKE picks up the REVOLVER, runs to the chair where the bullets are and tries to reload. JULIA wakes from her daze. We see him load 3 rounds. All of a sudden the DOOR gets broken down and the dark clad FIGURE from the scene before pulls out a BERETTA M9 with a silencer attachment. MIKE FIRES 2 shots at him haphazardly missing both. The MAN LAUGHS and FIRES one shot that MIKE's crotch catches.

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                 CUT TO:
2. INT. Next door in Apartment 2.

A MAN and WOMAN in their early 40's are smoking a joint and seem disturbed by the gunfire.

MAN:
(coughing)
What the hell was that?

WOMAN:
Sounded like gunshots. Do you think we should call the cops?

MAN:
Fuck no! There is a pound of chronic in the bedroom closet! Just pray whoever it is doesn't come over here!

WOMAN:
Okay. Are you gonna pass that?

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                  CUT TO:
3. INT. Apartment 3.

The smoke has cleared. MIKE is begging for death and BLEEDING out everywhere, JULIA is in a daze, dumbfounded by what she just witnessed, LIZ is cowering in fear, crying, and JANE just came out of the bedroom with her TORN SHIRT on and a terrified "Oh my God" expression. The unknown assailant has a devilish grin upon his face.

MIKE:
Godfuck! Kill me you sunuvabitch! Godda--

The MAN obliges. He fires a single shot into his RIGHT EYE.

MAN:
Well, looks like I got here in the nick of time!

JULIA:
(blankly)
W-Who the fuck are you?

MAN:
That is of little importance right now. Who are you foxy ladies?

JULIA:
M-My name's Julia. That girl over there (points to Liz) is Liz, and the ginger is Jane.

MAN:
What pretty names! Well, I have a question. Will you three lovely young ladies gather round that despicable looking chair and listen to what I have to say, or are you going to run? Keep in mind I have rope in my trenchcoat and the fact I mean you no harm. I am just a lonely man with a story to tell, and the way I see it, what with that bruise on your sweet face, you kinda owe me.

JULIA:
I think we can stay. I just wanna know your name.

MAN:
Ahh, but I am a man of many names. My christian name is Derek. You don't need the last for now.

DEREK walks to the chair and sits down. He waves the GIRLS over.

DEREK:
C'mon I just want to tell my tale. Look, I will put the gun under the chair as a sign of good faith that neither you girls or I will start shooting the place up again. Are we square ladies?

JULIA:
What do ya say guys?

They gather in the kitchen.

LIZ:
This guy has a screw loose.

JULIA:
Yes, but he saved us from our pimp. We should humor him.

JANE:
I think he is hot!

LIZ and JULIA just stare at JANE.

JANE:
Sorry, but he is.

JULIA:
So it's agreed. We will listen to his story, silently pray he doesn't rape us and leave afterwards.

The GIRLS walk to the chair. DEREK has lit the blunt.

DEREK:
Ahh, so you have decided to join me. Good. Do you guys wanna hit this?

LIZ and JULIA shake their heads no.

JANE:
I will.

DEREK:
Great. Now, where do I begin. I suppose everybody's roots stem from childhood, so lets go back, oh say, 20 years ago.

                                                             ­     FADE TO BLACK        
Against black, TITLE CARD

October 15th 1995.

                                                             ­                    CUT TO      
4. EXT. Suburbia circa 1995.

There are three boys between the ages of 6 and 9 playing in front of a grey HOUSE with a white MINIVAN in the driveway. Little DEREK is a scrawny 6 year old boy with short brown hair and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figure in his hands. The 2 other BOYS ages 7 and 9 are picking on him and trying to take away DONATELLO.

DEREK:
Leave me alone or I will whoop your butt.

BOY #1:
Whatever! You are scrawny and lame. Give us your Ninja Turtle now or we will beat you up!

BOY #2 picks up a STICK and starts hitting DEREK with it.

BOY #2:
What are you going to do? Get your daddy? Oh, wait...that's right, you don't have one!

The 2 BULLIES start laughing. A look of hatred fills young DEREK's eyes. He catches the STICK and slaps BOY #2 in the face with it. He then tackles him and starts beating him mercilessly. BOY #1 runs towards the PORCH and knocks on the DOOR. DEREK'S MOM answers. She is in her mid 30's with brown hair and casual clothing on, smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of "coffee."

BOY #2:
Derek's beating up Josh again!

DEREK'S MOM:
Well, good for him! Bet that little pecker snot deserved it too. Now, Brad...why don't you take you and your friend on home before I tell your dad you play with Barbies.

LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
My mother was a sweet ol' broad!

BRAD:
(sighs)
Okay, Ms. Walters, but you do know you are going to have to pull him offa Josh right?

DEREK'S MOM:
(sighs like Brad)
I suppose.

DEREK'S MOM and BRAD walk to the front yard and GASP when they notice that DEREK has knocked out 2 of JOSH'S baby teeth, both in the front and broke his nose, which is bleeding profusely.

DEREK'S MOM:
Derek Charles Walters! Get the fuck up offa him!

DEREK:
(crying)
He hit me with a stick!

DEREK'S MOM:
Well, now I'm about to!

She picks up the STICK and beats his ass with it several times.

DEREK:
Fuck you bitch!

DEREK'S MOM, infuriated throws the stick down and SLAPS him across the face. DEREK runs away.
He runs to a wooded area in the back yard as far as his legs can take him.

LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
Do not weep, for on that day, I met God and Satan incarnate and it turns out they existed singularly in my head.
                                                             ­                                                                 ­                        CUT TO:

5. JANE:
Like a conscience?

DEREK:
Much more. These guys are in the room right now and only I can see him. Satan led me to you guys tonight! Who knows what kind of CRAZY hijinks are in store!

JULIA:
That's it I'm outta here! C'mon gu--

DEREK fires of his M9 1 time.

DEREK:
Now, listen to me you dykey, junkie whore. I have 3 more rounds in this motherfucker and one
of them is reserved for you if you don't sit your tight ass back down.

JULIA sits back down scared to death. DEREK regains his composure and is "all smiles" again.

DEREK:
Phew! I don't want to hurt anybody. I just want someone pretty to listen to my fucking story. Fuck, if you want, I will ask you guys about yourself later on, but for now I'm going to introduce you to my best friends.

JANE:
Who are they again?

DEREK:
Ah, you were trying to pay attention. I will remember that. They go by many names. One can be called "God", "Heroic Harry", "The White Knight", whatever you envision as good, this mofo is it. He is the reason you guys are still alive.

LIZ:
And the other?

DEREK:
Ahh, him. He can go by "Satan", "The Rapist", "The Angel of Death." He's the reason ol' crusty here no longer bothers you.

LIZ:
So you're basically ape shit, right?

DEREK:
Pretty much! Now where was I? Ah...yes

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                              CUT TO:

6. INT. Small wooded area behind the house --- Early evening.

DEREK has made himself a nice little HANGOUT in the woods! there is a trunk with tons of comics in it, an arsenal of sharpened sticks and rocks, Batman action figures, and a Game Boy Color. He is drawing a picture at the moment.

LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
There I was in my element. Pissed at my mother, then all of a sudden, a deep, angelic voice rang out.

VOICE #1:
(OS...of course)
You don't have to hate her, you know. She loves you.

LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
And then another, this voice sounding more playful and mischievous then the other.

VOICE #2:
(OS)
But, for how long? Do you think she meant to have you?

DEREK:
Where are you guys?

LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
And then they appeared.

A 13 YEAR OLD BOY with BROWN hair and a FLANNEL overshirt over a Nirvana T-SHIRT with baggy torn blue JEANS with stains on them appears.

BOY #1:
Don't hate your mom.

VOICE #2:
(OS)
But, watch her close.

DEREK turns his head. We see another BOY roughly the same age with slightly long BLACK hair and a TRENCHCOAT over a Nine Inch Nails T-SHIRT with tight black CHICK PANTS with a CHAIN leading from his pocket to his BELT. He has a lip piercing and he is smoking a cigarette.

DEREK:
Who are you guys?

BOY #1:
Just think of us as older brothers your mom can't see.

DEREK:
Wow! I should introduce you guys to my friends!

BOY #2:
No!

DEREK:
Why not?

BOY #2:
You are the only person that can see us. Don't go telling anyone and don't talk to us in front of anyone. People will think you are nuts!

BOY #1:
Think of us as two ghosts that give you advice. Don't listen to him though, he'll get you in trouble.

BOY #2:
Shut up! Or I will kick your ass again.

BOY #1:
Not in front of him. He doesn't need to see that shit. Not now

DEREK:
What are your names?

BOY #1:
That's up to you.

DEREK:
I'll call you Joe, and him Jerry.

JOE:
Works for me, for now. Call us whatever you feel like calling us whenever you like. If you wanna call me butthole and him poophead, go right ahead.

DEREK:
Okay, but for now you guys are Joe and Jerry.

JOE:
We are going to leave now. We will show up when we think the time is right. Sometimes you will see us others you won't, but we are always with you.

JERRY:
Even when you poop.

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                  CUT TO:
7. INT. Apartment 3.

LATE 20'S DEREK:
And then I went back home and they disappeared. I reconciled with my mom and for the next few weeks I didn't see them. Brad started hanging out with me again and school was good. The years go by and still no sight of them. 4 years pass by. It's 1999 and my tastes changed. Instead of Ninja Turtles and Batman it was KISS and Freddy Krueger. By this point me and Josh had made up and Brad was in middle school. And so we go to where me and the voices meet again.

8. INT. Taft Elementary
A class of roughly 25 children in your average 5th grade home room with a stout middle aged gentleman teaching. JOSH and DEREK are in the back row sitting side by side.

TEACHER:
...And that's how the metric system works.

JOSH:
(to Derek)
Dude, did you check out RAW last night? The Undertaker crucified Stone Cold!

DEREK:
Fuck I missed it. I was doing homework.

JOSH:
(loud)
Shit!!

TEACHER:
What did you say Mr. Jarvis?

JOSH:
Sorry Mr. Cannib. I forgot to do my homework.

MR. CANNIB:
Josh, Derek, outside!

LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
The old man had taken kids out of the classroom before and they always came back with tears in their eyes. As we walked outside I heard a familiar voice.

JERRY:
(OS)
If he touches either of you, kick him in the nuts!

MR. CANNIB:
I told you boys too many times! None of this shit in my classroom! Josh get over here you little prick!

OL' TEACH GRABS JOSH by the NECK.

DEREK:
Hey motherfucker keep your hands to yourself!

CANNIB begins to throttle JOSH. DEREK pushes him off of JOSH and KICKS the TEACHER in the nuts with FURY about 3 times and jumps on top of him while JOSH watches holding his neck.

JERRY:
(OS) While we see Derek's mouth moving

Look here, mother fucker. You think you can be called a teacher for drinking on a farm, fucking cattle and beating children so you can have Summer vacation every year? Fuck you, you spiteful sad man.

DEREK SPITS in the BASTARD'S face and begins to PUNCH him when JOSH pulls him off.

JOSH:
Dude, the door outta here is right there. Lets go to our lockers, get our shit and get outta here.

DEREK:
(Breathing heavily)
Did I just do that? What the fuck? Let's get out of here...now!

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                  CUT TO:
9. EXT. Taft Elementary
A bunch of playground equipment next to an alley with a fenced in field. JOSH and DEREK are walking down the alley. It is sunny outside but about to rain.

DEREK:
That wasn't me that did that.

JOSH:
If it wasn't you who was it?

DEREK:
It w...

JOSH:
(Interrupting)
It really doesn't matter who it was. You got us out of school forever man.

DEREK:
You think so?

JOSH:
We are getting paid, yo.

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                   CUT TO
10. INT. Chillipaqua City Courthouse
The JUDGE bangs his gavel. JOSH and DEREK are seen smiling and pointing at CANNIB while he is on the stand while LATE 20'S DEREK narrates.

LATE 20'S DEREK:
(OS)
And so we did. That incident pulled the liberal media's heartstrings. My mother may have been a bitch, but she was a crafty bitch. We settled in court on a 100,000 dollar payment to both mine and Josh's families.And the fucker of this whole situation was fired and arrested the next week for bestiality and had quite the collection of kiddie porn in his closet!

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                  CUT TO:
11.EXT. A small farm on the edge of town.

MR. CANNIB is pantsless with a goat. We see the cherries and berries come blazing by. Cut to him crying as he is being handcuffed.

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                  CUT TO:
12.INT. Apt 3.

DEREK:
So you guys aren't goat fuckers are you? After all you seem pretty wild.

JULIA:
No.

JANE:
Hell no.

LIZ:
One time I was wearing a skirt and it was a very hot day, and my dog Rufflestiltskin licked my snatch.

JANE, JULIA AND DEREK look on in disgust.

LIZ:
What? I told him to stop.

DEREK:
That's just nasty. Another question and then on to the story again. How old are you girls? This Jane girl looks awfully young.

LIZ:
Me and Julia are 21. I think Jane is 18.

DEREK:
Ahh. Well that's good. The feeling I'm having in my pants looking at you 3 is "okay" then I guess.

JANE:
You make me moist.

LIZ and JULIA look on in TERROR. JANE puts her hand on DEREK'S crotch. DEREK slaps it away.

DEREK:
Hey now! Not right yet you little fucking minx. I have a story to continue.

JANE:
(Disappointed)
Fine.

DEREK:
And so the years pass and our young hero, (ha, me) had grown older and the voices just wouldn't stop after his little incident with his pal the goat fucker. As he grew the voices grew with him. Derek started to become depressed and jaded with the world. He had gotten taller, a bit chubbier, and more handsome. And he had fallen in love. Problem is she was John's girlfriend...and so we find young bespectacled Derek: awkward teenager.

13. INT. Derek's room.
The room is a bit messy. There is an XBOX underneath a small SONY TV. A Micheal Myers poster hangs above his bed. There are blue curtains covering his window. His closet is open and there is a projector and several 35 mm films in there. There is a boom box with a Weezer CD case lying next to it. The Blue album. Derek is on his PC while Only in Dreams is playing in the background. On his computer there are pictures of vile death and pornography. And all of a sudden there is a knock on his door.

DEREK'S MOM:
Boy, you better not be a whacking it!

DEREK:
Goddammit, mom! I will whack it if I feel like it!

DEREK'S MOM:
Well you better put that thing away if you are because there is a girl here to see you! Some girl named Cherise...isn't that Josh's girlfriend?

DEREK:
Oh, fuck! Um...send her in!

CHERISE walks in. She is around 2 years younger than DEREK, very tall as far as girls go, with long blonde hair, skinny yet she has a donk on her. She wears glasses and has braces. Kinda nerdy looking. DEREK has a nervous expression on his face.

CHERISE:
Hi Derek!

DEREK:
Um, hi. What are you doing here.

CHERISE:
Well, 2 reasons. First one is, could I borrow your Bleach CD? That's the only Nirvana album I haven't heard. If I were 20 years older I would have married Kurt instead of that Courtney Love bitch!

DEREK:
I totally understand. Um, yeah it's in my closet underneath my reel of Eraserhead. Let me get it for you.

DEREK walks to his closet and starts rummaging through his shit.

CHERISE:
Second reason is...well, um I'm trying to break up with Josh...

DEREK drops his projector on his foot.

DEREK:
Ow, fuck!

CHERISE:
and I don't know how to go about it. Do you have any ideas?

DEREK seems flustered.

DEREK:
Why...I mean you guys make a great couple.

CHERISE:
But, he is always angry at me if I don't see things his way.

DEREK:
I don't know why he would ever get mad at you. You are so great.

CHERISE:
Well, I did cheat on him with Eric.

DEREK:
That fat fuck?!

DEREK looks disgusted.

CHERISE:
It's like he knows how to respect a woman. Like you...but I could never be with you. You are...too...good.

DEREK:
Good? Like how?

CHERISE:
Like...I don't want to be the one to...ya know...take IT. You need a sweet girl to do that.

DEREK:
But, you are the sweetest girl I know!

Tears well up in DEREK'S eyes. JERRY appears.

Jerry:
Tell her to leave.

DEREK:
I think you should leave.

CHERISE:
I'm sorr--

DEREK:
Leave!

CHERISE looks pissed.

CHERISE:
Fine then you fat loser!

CHERISE leaves. DEREK runs out the door.

DEREK:
Keep fucking drug addicts and losers, ya fucking cunt! Who was the last one? The creepy 30 year old? Keep spreading your legs and you will end up with a little fucker and a man in prison! You're 14 act like it!

DEREK sits down at the desk with anger in his eyes. He reaches in one of the drawers. We see in the drawer there is lotion, paper towels and loosely rolled joints. He pulls out the lotion. DEREK gets on www.stileproject.com and clicks on the most recent link, the Pamela Anderson sex tape which despite being made public nearly a decade ago has finally been linked to Stile Project. DEREK pulls down his pants and starts jerking his wang.

DEREK:
You fucking cunt! You will be mine one day!

We cut to behind DEREK and JERRY is controlling DEREK'S arm.

JERRY:
You see what Tommy Lee is doing with his dick? You will be doing that to Cherise soon enough. Wait...you will convince her. She wants that dick. She just doesn't know it yet.

DEREK cums and takes his shirt and wraps it over his dick to wipe up. What he doesn't get with his shirt he LICKS off of his hand. JERRY looks upon the sad sight that is DEREK licking up his semen.

JERRY:
We will bring her to you. Me and Joe.

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                  CUT TO:
  14. Maple Orchard.

DEREK walks down the street to JOSH'S house. JOSH'S house is basically a carbon copy of DEREK'S. There is a green LINCOLN parked in the driveway. DEREK knocks on the window.

JOSH:
Dude, what the fuck? Why the fuck are you waking me up?

DEREK:
It's 4:00 pm, mothafucka! Wake your fat, white ass up and smoke a blunt! I got money lets run out of town to the White Castle!

JOSH:
Fuck, man...give me a few to wake up. My mom will let you in. My Jew dad is at work right now so you're cool.

DEREK walks in.

JOSH'S mom opens the door.

JOSH'S MOM:
Ahh, Derek. Your little middle school friends not aloud to hang out?

DEREK:
Just let me in Melanie.

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                 CUT TO:
15. INT. Josh's house.

DEREK sits down in the house which has an enormous living room and a really big T.V. in it in front of a neatly kept couch.

DEREK:
Hurry the fuck up in there Josh! It doesn't take that long to shit and get changed. I'm starving! Mom hasn't had food in the fridge for a week!

MELANIE:
Why can't your mom afford food for you? You guys have thousands of dollars! How come you can't have food?

DEREK:
Melanie, dear...mother of my best of friends. My mom is a dirty cunt!

MELANIE:
I knew there was a reason I didn't like her.

JOSH comes out of the bathroom.

JOSH:
Fuck, lets go man. I have the new Outkast CD in the stereo. Andre 3000 is a fucking madman!

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                  CUT TO:

16. INT. Josh's Lincoln.

Leather seats, faux wood paneling, a Pioneer CD player, and a little rubber fetus hanging from the rear view mirror. The car cigarette lighter is being used to light a blunt and "Roses" is playing in the background.

JOSH:
Did you watch Chappelle's Show last night?

DEREK:
No man, I'm glued to my computer. Maybe one day when I can watch Comedy Central on my computer I will watch it.

JOSH:
(In a high pitched voice)
A re re visited my work today!

DEREK:
(Laughing maniacally while coughing.)
Oh, really?

JOSH:
(In normal voice)
And not just ANY retard...the king retard!

DEREK:
(gasps)
You are fucking with me. Was...Corky at Olive Garden?

JOSH:
(In high pitched voice again)
Yes!

DEREK:
You are fucking with me.

JOSH:
Seriously dude.

DEREK drops the blunt.

DEREK:
Oh shit!

JOSH slaps DEREK in the back of his head until he picks it up.

JOSH:
Pick it up, brown eye!

DEREK:
Now fuck off, with that shit! I got it.

JOSH:
Give it to me, then.

JOE:
(OS)
Let it slide. Enjoy the marijuana and keep your eyes on the road.

DEREK hits the blunt super hard until he starts coughing up spit on himself. JOSH yanks it out of his hand.

JOSH:
You also need to quit making this thing run with your strong ass lungs.

DEREK:
(Coughing still)
What about Corky?

JOSH:
(Laughs hysterically)
Oh, so you want to hear about mirth and merriment Corky gave me? Well allow me to elaborate.

JOSH hits the blunt 3 times and passes it.

JOSH:
(Exhales followed by a tiny cough.)
Well ol' Corky was sitting at a table that I had to serve. My buddy Jeff was serving a table behind him filled with Hasidic Jews. Like you know how there is Eugene Levy and just slightly higher than that there is my Jewy dad? Well these guys were probably 10 times higher on the Jewometer. Like rabbi's or something. Real Jews, my nig. Well I come up to the table where our favorite retard, Corky is sitting and Corky says to his "handlers" (in full blown tard voice) "Gee, those guys have curly hair...and cool frisbee's on their heads"

DEREK fucking loses it!

JOSH:
You gonna pass that?

DEREK passes the blunt laughing like the deranged bastard he is.

JOSH:
Well, the poor tard said it really loud. So his "handlers" do their best job of telling him a brief history of Judaism while I am taking the orders. As I walk away I hear them mutter something about Haunakah. I go and place the order, by the time I get back with their food, they have finally gotten to the holocaust. Now, I think all he heard, like myself was the beginning and end of the whole conversation. So Corky sees me coming back with his fettucine alfredo gets really happy and breaks into song. Do you want to hear it.

DEREK:
More than I want those jalapeno sliders.

JOSH:
(In the best tard voice ever)

HAUNAKAH HOLOCAUST 8 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS THAT'S RELLY COOL DER'S THE JEW GUYS WIT DER JEW CURLS BUT WATCH OUT FOR DA HITLER HES A BAD BAD MAN HES GONNA GETCHYA WITH HIS EVIL SWASTIKA! HAUNAKAH HOLOCAUST
And he just kept on repeating it over and over. The Jews got pissed and didn't tip Jeff. I distinctly heard one of them saying something about a wood shed and someone beating him way too hard.

DEREK is laughing himself to tears and out of breath.

DEREK:
This couldn't have happened.

JOSH:
That's because it didn't! Ha ha ha!

JOSH pulls up to WHITE CASTLE.

JOSH:
So do we agree on a sack o six each?

DEREK:
Yeah, and a Hawaiian Punch...biggest cup they have.

JOSH:
Yeah that sounds good.

JOSH pulls up to the speaker.

JOSH:
2 jalapeno sacks o 6 and 2 extremely large Hawaiian Punch's.

SPEAKER:
(female voice)
Anything else?

DEREK:
Your number!

JOSH punches DEREK in the arm.

DEREK:
Fuckin' cocksmith!

SPEAKER:
Excuse me?

JOSH:
Don't mind him. He's a virgin.

DEREK has rage in his eyes. He PUNCHES JOSH in his nads.

JOSH:
Wait until we get out of the car, motherfucker.

JOSH pulls up to the window. They see a raven haired goddess with black horn rimmed glasses taking orders.

BANGIN' WHITE CASTLE EMPLOYEE:
That will be 10.99.

DEREK is stunned.

DEREK:
(whispering)
Oh, no...you are fucked when we get out of this car.

They get their sacks o 6 and start eating them on the way home.

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                  CUT TO:

17. INT. Josh's Lincoln/Ext. Josh's driveway.

JOSH:
Lets get out of the car.

DEREK:
One minute...

DEREK pulls out a peach WHITE OWL and half a sack that roughly took 20 dollars and persuasion to obtain.

DEREK:
We need to talk.

JOSH eases his way back into the car.

JOSH:
About what?

DEREK:
Cherise.

JOSH:
Goddammit, what now Derek? Is it still the ol' I saw her first routine? Or do you still think she's in love with you?

DEREK looks hurt, but shrugs it off.

DEREK:
No...sit down and roll this blunt.

DEREK hands JOSH the weed and SHELL.

DEREK:
Now, Josh. Listen to me...Cherise is a fickle bitch. She is also a slut...A 13 year old slut. You are going to be a senior next year...I am going to let you roll the blunt and light it before I tell you. So in the meantime...

DEREK reaches for a CD in the visor sleeve. He pulls out WEEZER'S "Green Album" and plays "Hash Pipe."

DEREK:
(to the tune of the song)
Get that blunt rolled, get that blunt rolled, get that blunt rolled. I can understand why you look so pissed. You know somethings wrong, that somethings amiss. I know that you don't care, but I want you to know, that your girl Cherise is kind of a ho! Oh...come on and roll that...oh...come on and roll that. Oh...this bitch is a problem, she rubs it at night. Oh...you roll that blunt so...we need no hash pipe. DUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUNDUN

JOSH:
Shut the fuck up, here!

JOSH lights it and passes it to DEREK. DEREK hits it.

DEREK:
So, ol braceface was talking to me. She told me she was thinking about dumping you...something about he doesn't treat me right...he gets angry when things don't go his way.

JOSH looks angry.

JOSH:
And I'm supposed to believe you?

DEREK:
You're a big boy, you can decide for yourself. She's gonna leave you man.

JOSH PUNCHES DEREK in the FACE!

JOSH:
I don't fucking believe you, you son of a bitch!

JERRY:
(OS)
NOW!

DEREK gets out of the car.

DEREK:
C'mon old friend, don't let some stank ass pussy get between us. Now why don't you come on out of the car and give me a hug?

JOSH LEAPS out of the car. He tackles the shit out of DEREK.

DEREK:
Now that's more like it!

DEREK knees JOSH in the BALLS HARD!

JOSH:
(winded)
I will kill you!

DEREK:
Maybe you should give her a call. I'm going home.

DEREK turns around and starts walking. JOSH RUNS at him and hits him in the back of the head.

DEREK:
Now, goddammit man that hurt! Chill the fuck out, man. Bros 'fore hoes!

DEREK has a devious smile on his face.

DEREK:
You should think really fucking hard about what you said about killing me today. I have a screw loose motherfucker! Now, if you want to fight, there are better places. We need to go somewhere else with this. An unbiased environment. I tell you what, we can have a fight at the ballpark in Yolentangee park tomorrow if you are still butthurt.

JOSH calms a bit.

JOSH:
Then it's settled. We will fight tomorrow in the ballpark.

DEREK:
Fine then. I am going home now. Maybe you can chill te fuck out tomorrow so you won't be so easy to whoop.

DEREK turns around and goes home. JOSH is yelling obscenities while crying at the same time.

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                  CUT TO:

18. INT Derek's room.

DEREK is at the computer having freshly gotten his nut watching BANGBROS for 2 hours. We see him pulling up his pants. He looks in the drawer at his desk and pulls out a knife. 2 figures appear. One is dressed head to toe in black with a lip piercing and long black hair. The other has shaggy brown hair and a beard with khakis on and a tie dye t shirt. We recognize them as JOE and JERRY.

JOE:
Put it away.

JERRY:
You need that knife. Do you think he won't put up a fight?

JOE:
Put it away!!

DEREK slices his wrist. Blood comes shimmering down his fore arm. He runs into his mothers bedroom and blacks out. This is all shown from DEREK'S P.O.V.

19. Hospital room.
As his eyes open he is in a hospital bed. There are nurses asking him questions he doesn't understand. He sees the needle in his arm and rips it out. He lunges at one of the nurses.

DEREK:
(Screaming)
Wanna taste!!!???? I wanna taste of you! Lemme see dat ass!

OLDER DEREK:
(OS)
I had decided to ignore these thoughts, but the thought of having these thoughts didn't have me thinking clearly!

20. INT. Apt. 3
JULIA and LIZ are frightened. JANE has her cell phone out. DEREK leans over JANE.

DEREK:
What are you doing?

JANE:
Why, telling everyone on facebook how ----

DEREK grabs her cell phone and THROWS it through the WINDOW.

DEREK:
Now listen here, bitch. No one needs to know of me or the predicament you three are in. If I see any of you texting or using your phones then you will be shot. Consider this your only warning.

JANE actually looks terrified for once and hangs her head in disappointment like she is sad she disappointed DEREK.

DEREK:
Now where was I? Ah, yes. My stay in the looney bin as a spry, yet unwilling teen.

LIZ:
Wait...what happened with Josh?

DEREK:
All in due time, my stoned and buxom friend.

21. INT. The Looney Bin.
There are pastel colored walls and a room full of stumbling wrecks. Teenage boys and girls on Ritalin and Valium. There is a tv in the middle of the room and magazines and colored pencils strewn about. One boy catches the cameras eye.

OLDER DEREK:
(OS)
I met this fellow named Trevor in there, he was a half white, half dark boy with a bushy fro. Couldn't have been much younger than I. I struck up a friendship with him. He is very quiet and says crazy shit when he does speak.

16 year old DEREK:
If you give me your meds I will give you mine.

JERRY:
Have fun.

22. GROUP TIME AT THE LOONEY BIN!
All the schizoid wrecks of human beings converse about how hard their lives have been, all the while Trevor has a strange look in his eyes.

COUNSELOR:
So what makes you happy, Trevor?

TREVOR:
Rape and violence.

COUNSELOR:
(Raises eyebrow)
What was that?

TREVOR:
(Rather quietly)
Peace and silence.

COUNSELOR:
(sarcastically)
Oh, really?

TREVOR:
You must have misread me.

COUNSELFUCK writes on his notepad.

23. Same Looney Bin Place Different Looney Bin Time.
INT. DEREK and TREVOR'S room
DEREK is sleeping.
TREVOR is trying to pick the lock of the window with a paperclip and a plastic knife.
DEREK awakens.

DEREK:
I've been up for 3 days, and I (yelling) FINALLY GOT THE FUCK TO SLEEP! what THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?

TREVOR:
I'm trying to get the fuck out of here!

DEREK:
Dude! Why? It's fucking awesome here! There is a sterile living environment, hot milfy nurses, television, 3 squares and a snack, plus you fucking know you aren't the craziest mofo in here! Everyone in here is either whoring or shooting smack! There is no such thing as a "troubled teen" anymore. That shit died in the 90's when they realized it was all the trip drugs their mothers did when they were pregnant. This is a new generation sir! It's 2005! You have at least 5 years to go before life is shitty for you, don't speed it up.

TREVOR:
They know I'm not taking my meds.

DEREK:
Well fuck, lets just switch back our meds! I don't need to speed like this, the voices won't fucking stop!

TREVOR:
Okay, maybe we will get out of here sooner and I will stop acting like a sociopath.

DEREK:
That's the ticket, m'boy!

24. On the outside.

DEREK:
You got a cigarette?

TREVOR:
No. I don't smoke.

DEREK:
Well, fuck! What good are you then?

DEREK pulls out a HEATER cigarette. They heat your throat with a 100% tobacco aroma.  He lights it.

DEREK:
You know what? I could use a guy like you in my corner when the voices start acting up again.

TREVOR:
What do you mean?

DEREK:
(Takes a long drag off his Heater)
You could tell me what not to do. Keep me cool. Jerry is a swift bastard, he is!

TREVOR:
Who the fuck is Jerry?

DEREK:
In due time you will find out. Jerry likes you though. Joe likes you too. They never agree on anything, which means you are cool. Just keep your head when things go awry.

TREVOR:
What the fuck are you on?

DEREK:
(flicks his cigarette)
Life and everything in it!

DEREK's car pulls up. It's JOSH in his Lincoln.

JOSH:
Dammit fuck brain, you were right!

DEREK:
I fucking told you!

DEREK acknowledges TREVOR.

DEREK:
This is my childhood pal Josh.

TREVOR:
Hey.

JOSH:
What kind of crazy are you?

TREVOR:
Not his kind, I assure you.

DEREK gets in the car.

DEREK:
I will see you around, man. I got work to do!

JOSH speeds out of the parking lot.

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                  CUT TO:

25. INT. APT. 3

JULIA:
So that's it? That's how you guys made up?

DEREK:
Well, I did make a phone call to him the previous day.

                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                  CUT TO:

26, Nuthouse the day before

DEREK picks up the phone.

DEREK:
Hey, man. You still mad?

JOSH:
(On the phone)
Nope. You were right. Dumb cunt left me for a 20 year old.

DEREK:
Kids these days, eh? I have a situation. I am inside the institute for the criminally insane and I need you to give me a ride out of here.

JOSH:
Why are you in there for?

DEREK:
My arms. Threatening nurses. Depression.

JOSH:
Goddammit you big fucking emo! I will be there soon.
  
                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                  CUT TO:

27. INT. Apt. 3

JULIA:
Ah, makes sense.

JANE:
So, you had a rough time in your teenage years, didn't ya?

DEREK:
The rough times didn't even begin yet...eh...

DEREK looks over at LIZ who looks to be passed out.

DEREK:
Julia...is she dead?

JULIA shakes her. LIZ throws up

LIZ:
Sh...smack.

JULIA:
She's fine.

DEREK:
Well, wake her ass up!

JULIA:
I can't she is uber stoned.

DEREK:
I can wake her up.

DEREK takes off his trenchcoat and unzips his pants. He pulls down her pants revealing a plump, perfect ass. He turns her over and starts fucking her hard. JANE looks extremely jealous.

DEREK:
Wake up. bitch!

LIZ starts to wake up, but doesn't tell him to stop. She moans uncontrollably.

LIZ:
Harder!

By this point both JANE and JULIA are masturbating and they start eating each other out. DEREK is going so hard LIZ' tit pops out. He pulls out and sticks his dick in LIZ' beautiful mouth, choking her on his cock.

LIZ:
(choking and slurping)

DEREK:
Taste that cock! You're next Julia!

JULIA stops eating JANE. Her eyes widen and her jaw drops. DEREK pulls out of LIZ' mouth and cums all over her face. DEREK slaps her and spits on her face.

DEREK:
Stay awake!

Naomi Sa'Rai "than to beg for money"

So lets search for the blue
leaning towards the moon
because no one tells the truth
now a days
anyways
id expect nothing less
from a homeless man
than to beg for money
or expect anything more
from a whore
than to be cunning
or cumming
shes probably stunning
when she does
because no one lets loose
now a days
anyways
so lets look under a rock
hoping to find
the lost city
because I'm African American
you'd expect me to say
my "podnas rolling with me"
But I don't blend with the trend
and strive not to be deprived
of intelligence
so take a hint
because no one tells the truth
now a days
anyways....

Shelbi Sarrett "and if you got money your better be sure"

drifters keep drifting from door to door
but you can't find no heaven on this open road
and if you got money your better be sure
because hard times are coming and there ain't no golden road
now this prison and i just have to go

ghost "and Mommy left us for money and men"

Daddy?
Where are you, Daddy?
For the five years I have breathed,
You were saving lives
of 34th Street
while Mommy worked in office
and I stayed with grandfather
happy in the small apartment

Daddy?
Where are you, Daddy?
For the seven years I have learned,
You were stressed out
and annoyed
while Mommy went out late at night
and I slept in my room, dreading the new school
and Sister Dear sent bad pictures to boys

Daddy?
Where are you, Daddy?
For the nine years I have blinked,
You went to work angry
and came back
drunk
while Mommy yelled at me and Sister Dear
and I dreamed of friends
while glass bottles were thrown out

Daddy?
Where are you, Daddy?
It's been more than four years later
and Mommy left us for money and men
Sister Dear
dropped out of college
and you lay on the couch
threatening us and drinking

And drinking
so
   much
           drinking

and it hasn't hit you yet?
while you look for a buzz
your daughter is hanging from the top of her fan
screaming words that her lips
couldn't say

Got that buzz yet?

Cassidy Claire Johnson "Made of fashion and fake money"

America, the beautiful
Home of the brave
Or so it used to be
Before it became
Home of the selfish and lazy

From sea to shining sea
Once a cape of good hope
Until the tidal patterns shifted
And eroded the shores
Of her dignity

Born American, patriot by choice
Is how the saying goes
But what's a patriot really
If patriotism is measured
By the size of one's collection of faded bumper stickers
(As if bumper stickers would revive us)

Land of the pilgrim's pride
But on this trajectory
We'll soon be
Land of the pilgrim's regret
From every mountainside, let ignorance ring

I cringe to think of what we're reduced to
A hollow shell
Made of fashion and fake money
Nothing keeping us truly alive
Each generation weaker than the one before

                           Please, no more.

Someone speak for all that's good
Do what our leaders never could

My country, 'tis of thee I plead,
Awaken, open your eyes, and see.

Cassidy Claire Johnson © 2013.
Day three of my A Poem A Day project. Written 5/16/2013.
Lane "money riding visual stimulation and a shaking"

Viking's got it virtual, spinning and he's cynical
masking masquerade of every beaten broken lateral.
open-bottled bears look like little tiny hairs due to massive
sorts of stacking and a corp worth dollar shares.
Now i'm sitting in a skull or two, a brain that can't pick what to do
An empty, and gated, abandoned hop skotch for dancin' or truth.
signs of life negative, I don't think we can hold the shiv
but i will pay a nickel if you ask me where the mattress is.

Stop
And don't think you left 4 eyes blocked fully.
i'm lookin for the glasses that won't make me look silly.
got a hidden sort of stash, the kind of cash is always relevant.
got industries in disaster with a passion for the magnificent.
now every faggot actor has some kind of immune innocense.
now what the fuck has happened to utilizing more than common sense?
I guess we just forgot what time armageddon really is
so allow me to introduce the second hand to you fucking kids.

Please return your seats to an upright release.
(Down-trodden echoes from moon-base police.)
Don't take a number unless you can be seen.
(mathematic addict he took a train for free.)


Ohhh--- my-good-god-fucking,
damn it's a nice way to live outside.
free patties made fresh from the earth, 8 to 5.
but he's too damn busy not thinkin' survive.
we can rebuild him.
Undercut the normal cost of generations you are stuck with,
throw it all in paper bags and call it a sickness.
teacher made me sit outside away from all the other kids,
attentiveness is measured by an inconsistent dosage list.
Awareness is a trait
and being blind is a disorder
sight beyond sight is something to be ignored or,
better yet we need a fucking sight beyond the seen sight,
or maybe just a cigarette to keep my mattress fire bright.

Go
Green lights spit on the pavement- pea soup food fight kids entertainment.
rock show, dog fight, all just the same shit.
money riding visual stimulation and a shaking rib.
ha- ha- ha
hear me chuckle like a charlie got his X-ray goggles put on little bit sideways.
crack the better pavement so no one has good roadways.
now our infastructure needs improvements going both ways.


Please return your seats to an upright release.
(Down-trodden echoes from moon-base police.)
Don't take a number unless you can be seen.
(mathematic addict he took a train for free.)

Charles Lutwidge Dodgson "Forgetting how much money they spent"

The cardigans have invaded Carnegie Hall
Flickering in the reflection of an antique disco ball
The piano keys tremble in fear
Of the beauty no one will hear
Dulled out through a clash of commotion
Rumbling in the raging ocean
Stomping their feet in senseless rhythm
Leaving wayward elbows to cause a schism

The violins bellow noise
The band play with their toys
Everyone seems perfectly content
Forgetting how much money they spent
Waiting for one lasting memory.
Something akin to 'Discovery'
Then as the precipice reaches the sun
A fire alarm cause everyone to run.

Susan O'Reilly "I'm sure my money he's spent"

Ignored my intuition
lived to regret my folly
let down my inhibitions
he ran off with my lolly

His twisted dysfunctional lies
I believed without question
my emotions he assailed
his lies too many too mention

Won’t give in to resentment
leave disappoint behind me
I’m sure my money he’s spent
my bright future worth every penny

He’s a lesson well learnt
my eyes well and truly open
my fingers badly burnt
he’ll get his comeuppance, I’m hoping

Stephanie Cynthia "for his father's money is donned,"

Matilda.
The light of my life.
The poem of my tongue.
The fire of my chest.
The wind of my loins.
The hate I loathe.
The beauty I view.
My lady.
My dream.
My hesitant rainbow.
My fearless tears.
My coverlet and starlet;
my blanket and dainty amulet.
My distant promise and cautiousness;
but in all my darling; looking ever so stately-
yet not like yon faraway, morning dew.

Matilda.
The hands I adore;
the fingers I want to kiss.
The solitude I live in;
the fate I was born in.
A pair of eyes ever to me too divine,
A charm that loyally strikes, and glows and shines.
A lock of hair that petulantly sways and sweats.
A midday tale of love; as how it is mine,
a beauty that this world ensures,
but cannot adore.

Matilda.
Even the brisk turquoise sea
is ever less glossy than thy eyes,
for their calmness is still less harmful,
unlike unbending, thus insolent tides, at noon.
Ah, Matilda, thou art yet too graceful,
but tricky and indolent, as the puzzling moon!
Thy purity is like unseen smoke,
tearing the skies' linings like a fast rocket,
making me ever thirsty, turning my heart wet,
but still this attentive heart thou canst not provoke;
thou art a region too far from mine;
but still luck is in heart whose fate's in thine.
And as thou singeth a tone I liketh to sing
I cannot help but more admiring thee;
And as thou singeth it genuinely more,
thou capture all my breath and give it all a thrill;
for I realise then, that thou canst be stiff, as sandless shores;
but thy beauty canst so finely startle,
and whose startledness
canst kill.

Matilda.
But deadness, and ever desolation
are vividly clamouring in thy eyes;
Thou art but distinct, distinct indeed-from serenity;
for thou warble thyself, but gladly-away, from thy sullen reality.
Ah, Matilda, how canst a soul so comely
be hateful to fame, and dishonest just from its frame?
Matilda, to those merciless hearts indeed thou beareth no name;
Thou art a shame to their pride, and a stain to their bitterly fevered, sanity.
Yet still, thou art to innocent to understand which,
and in love naively, as thou just art, now-
with that feeble shadow of a pampered young fellow,
Whose stories are also mine,
for his father's money is donned,
and coined every day-by my servant's frail hands;
The sweat of my palms obey me in doing so-
I am my master's son's poor sailor,
and he his sole heir-and soon is to inherit
an indecent boat; full of roaming paths, doors, and locks
And at nights, costly drapery and jewels shall be planted in their hair-
yes, those beastly riches' necks, and skin fair,
And thou be their eternal seamstress,
weaving all those bare threads with thy hands-
ah, thy robust virgin hands,
whilst thy heart so dutifully levitating
about his false painting, and bent even more heartily, onto him.
Ah, 'tis indeed unfair, unfair, unfair-and so unfair!
For such a liar he was, and still is-
Once he was betrothed to a bitter, and uncivil Magdalene;
Uncivil so is she, prattling and bickering and prattling and bickering-
To our low-creature ears, as she once remarked,
She who basked in her own vague hilarity, and sedate glory
And so went on harshly unmolested by her vanity, and fallibility;
But sadly indeed, occupied with a great-not intellect,
As not sensible a person as she was;
At least until the winds knocked her haughty voices out-
and so then hovering stormy gales beneath,
took her out and gaily flung her deep into the raging sea.

Still he wiggled not, and seems still-in a seance every night,
whenst he but cries childishly and calls out to her name in fright.
Her but all dead, dead name;
'Till his father tears him swiftly out of his solitude
And with altogether the same worried face
but drags his disconcerted son back into his flamboyant chamber.
Ah, and I caught thee again, Matilda,
Bowed over the picture of yon young sailor;
'Twixt those sweet-patterned handkerchiefs
On thy lil' wooden table, yesterday
And curved over yon picture, I was certain;
I caught some fatigued tears in thy eyes-
for from thy love thou wert desperate,
but still unsure even, of the frayed tyings of cruel fate.
Ah, Matilda, your hair is still as black as the night
The guilty night, though nothing it may knoweth, of thy love,
and perhaps just as unknowing it seemingly is;
as th' tangled moon, and its dubious arrows
of unseen lilies, above
Shall singeth in uncertainty; and cordless dignity
And which song shall forever be left unreasoned
Until the end of our days arrive, and bereft us all
of this charismatic world-and all its dearest surge of false,
and oftentimes unholy, fakeness.
Oh Matilda, but such truest clarity was in thy eyes,
And frightened was I-upon seeing t'is;
As though never shrouded in barren lies
Like a love that this heart defines;
but never clear, as never is to be gained.
Ah, Matilda, and such frank clarity dismays me;
It threatens and stiffens and chortles me,
for I am certain I shan't be with thee-
and shall ever be without thee,
for thou detest and loathe me,
and be of no willingness at all-
to befriend, to hold, or to hear-
much less reward me with thy love,
as how I shall reward thee with mine.

Matilda, this love is too strong-but so is, too poor
And neither is my heart plainly bruised;
For it is untouched still, but feeling like it has been flawed
Ah, why does this love have to be raw-and far indeed, too raw!
I, who is thy resilient friend, and fellow-sadly never am in thy flavour;
for in his soul only-thy love is rooted;
And this love is forever never winning-and it is sour,
Like a torn, mute flower; or like a better not, laughter.
And my heart is once more filled with dead leaves-
Ah, dead, dead leaves of undelight, and unjoy;
Whose cries kick and bend and strangle themselves-
all to no avail, and cause only all its devouring to fail,
For his doorless claws are to strong,
Stealing thy eyes from me for all day,
and duly all night long.
How discourteous! Virtual, but too far, still-
corrupting me; ah, unjust, unjust, and discourteous!
Tormentingly-ah, but tormentingly, torturously, insincere!
Ah, Matilda! But soon as thou prayeth,
every single grace and loveliness thou shall delicately saith;
Thy voice is as delightful as nailed, or perhaps, cunningly deluded vice-
Which I hath always feigned to be refuting tomorrow,
but is only to bring me cleverer and cleverer sorrow
'Till hath I no power to defy its testy soul,
that for no reason is too shiny and bold,
but so dull, and bland as a hard-hearted summer glacier,
and too unyielding as hurtful, talloned wines.
Oh, but no appetite I hath, for any war
against him-for he is fair, and I am not,
He is worthier of thee, than my every word;
He who to thee is like a graceful poem,
he who is the only one to smirk at
and hush away thy daylight doom.
Matilda! For evermore thy heart is mine;
and mine only-though I canst love thee
only secretly, and admire thee from afar,
Still cannot I stand bashful, and motionless-too far,
For I wish to hath been born, for thy every sake
Though it shall put my sinless tongue at stake
And even my love is even gentler then blue snowflakes;
and more cordial than yon rapturous green lake.
Ah! Look! Upon the moors the grass is swirling,
so please go back now; and be greedy in thy running.
Still when no music is playing,
all is but too painful for thee,
which I liketh to neither witness, nor see,
for upon thee the moon of love might not be singing,
as it is upon all others a song,
But somehow to nature it not be wrong,
for he cannot still be thy charm, nor darling.
O-but I hate thinking of which affectionately,
when thou crieth and which sight, to my heart, is paining.
Ah, Matilda! For even to God thy love is but too pure;
for it is faultless as morns, and poisonless-
like those ever unborn thorns;
Of yon belated autumn melody,
But is, somehow, fraught and dejected
With sorrow, for it is him, that yesterday and now
Thou loveth softly and securely,
Two hours later and perhaps, in every minute of tomorrow.

Matilda! But still tell me, how can thou securely love a danger?
For I am sure he is but a danger to thee, indeed;
Once I witnessed how his face
grotesquely thrusted into furtive anger
As he burst into a dearth of strong holds,
of his burning temper-under the blooming red birch tree;
And as every eye canst see,
He is only soft, and perhaps meek-as a butterfly,
Whenever the world he eats and sleeps and feeds on in-
Tellest him not the least bit of a lie;
Ah, Matilda, canst I imagine thee being his not,
ah, for I shall be drowned in deflating worry, indeed-I shall be, I shall be!
I dread saying t'is to thee-but he, the heir of a ruthless kingdom,
and kingdom of our God not-within their lands and reigns of scrutiny,
His words are but a tragedy, and a pain thou ought not to bear;
O, Matilda, thou art but too holy and far too fair!
Thy soul is, so that thou knoweth, my very own violin-
To which I am keenly addicted;
I am besotted with thy red cheeks-;
As whose tunes-my violin's, are thy notes
as haunting and sunnily beautiful,
And cloudless like thy naivety,
Which stuns my whole nature,
and even the one of our very own Lord Almighty.
Ah, Matilda, even the heavens might just turn out
far too menial for thee;
and their decorum and sweet tantrums idle and unworthy;
Thou art far, far above those ladies in dense gowns,
With such terseness they shall storm away and leave him down.
But why-why still, he refuses to look at thee!
Ah, unthinking and unfeeling,
foolish and coquettish,
unwitted and full of deceit-is himself,
for loving should I be-if thy smile were what I wished,
and thy blisses and kisses were what I dreamed;
I wouldst be but warmer than him,
I wouldst be but indeed so sweet,
I wouldst be loftier than he may seem;
and but madden thee every sole day, with my gracious-
though sometimes ferocious-ah, by thy love, ever tender wit.

I hath so long crept on a broken wing,
And thro' endless cells of madness, haunts, and fear,
Just like thou hath-and as relentlessly, and lyrically, as we both hath.
But not until the shining daffodils die, and the silvery
rivers turn into gold-shall I twist my love,
and mold it into roughness-
undying, but enslaved roughness;
that thou dread, and neither I adore;
For for thee I shall remain,
and again and again stay to find
what meaningful love is-
Whilst I fight against the tremor
and menace this living love canst bring about-
To threaten my mask, and crush my deep ardor.
Ah, my mask that hath loved thee too long,
With a love so weak but at times so strong;
and witnessed thee I hath, hurt and pained
and faded and thawed by his nobility
But one of worldliness; and not godliness
For heavens yonder shall be ours, and forever
Shall bestow us our triumphs, though only far-in the hereafter;
Still I honour thee, for holding on with sincerity-
and loyalty, to such contempt too strong
For thou art as starry as forgiveness itself,
and thus is far from yon contempt-and its overbearing soul;
And perhaps friendly, too unkind not-
like its trepid blare of constant rejection, and mockery
And as I do, shall I always want thee to be with me;
For thou art the mere residue, and cordial waning age of the life that I hath left;
For thou art the only light I hath, and the innate mercy I shall ever desire to seek;
and perhaps have sought shall, within the blessed soul of my 'ture wife.
Oh, Matilda, thou art the dream t'at I, still, ought not to dream,
thou art the sweetness I ought' only charm, and keep;
As thou art the song, that I may not be right'd to sing;
but the lullaby; which in whose absence, I canst shall never sleep.

 
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