I see timber, I see my Dad.
The wrinkled grain grin
sits lost on his face,
he’s selling his timeless record collection:
the finest midlife crisis since records began.

Lined bits of paper with a pen and plan,
bass players and guitarists are all being sold,
including the front man,
microphone, monitor and stand.

Under the slim light, what’s
going to be sold is exposed
ready for a thorough cleaning
of the black gold moulds.

None of us are allowed near, we have been told,
this is a strict operation and it’s under control,
he starts spouting tiny liner note quotes
none of us understand, we need a translator- grab your coats.

We returned to a mess of a man:
he did not go through with his midlife crisis plan.
His extra 3000 children in their sleeves
can sleep safe tonight knowing that everything will be all right.

I: Hypocritical Accusations of a Jealous Knave
I could have sworn the Queen winked at me as
I laid my Royal Flush on the table
Clubs
She was always the prettiest
Hers is my suit:
I imagine myself as the Jack
Who turns her from Monarchess to
Adulteress in the Royal Garden
Maybe slip her a stolen tart or two
To spite the King for he always
Outranked me
The chances of being dealt it are
Sixty four thousand, nine hundred and seventy (ish) to
One,
If my luck is running out,
Why must it be wasted
In the gaining of ethereal money?
Why not conserved for the selling of my soul to
A queen who is not ink on laminate
Card?
Or at least not here in an
Imagined Vegas or Montecarlo where
Neon, though colourless in nature,
Forms a blinding parody of a hell, hooded
In green and pink and orange and yellow or more
To pass as a heaven for
The wannabe vagrants of brat nations
Who may weep pennies for a disaster,
Remove the split onion, retake the shining knife
And bleed brass, nickel, copper and
Slaughtered tree (more ink) into
An impossible lottery
Hoping for a transfusion with
Monetary hepatitis and all from
The blind benefactors
Apply a plaster and
Reabsorb oneself into the mirror
I too am guilty of all this

II: Inside the Dreams of a Madman to Be
Checkmate.
Oh how the intellectuals do duel
Yet spill not one drop of blood;
Like the bishops of old before they were
Confined to diagonals
Who would carry clubs instead
Of blades to preserve their
Sanctity:
Keep it white, not stain it red
Or brown, dotted with congealed black;
It is a wonder to paint
But not to see or to feel
This was before the days when
Bleach could hide one’s
Breaking of the LORD’s commandments
And before the harnessed
Lightning strike
Killed the LORD himself in his creation’s (Midnight)
Eyes
And so the bleach was not needed
Yet still it sold because
Grass stained trousers:
The fruits of a hard summer afternoon’s
Labour in the sun
An atom of wasted
Childhood well spent
Could not be called a sin

III: Nonsensical Ramblings of the Recently Awakened
The eyes of an ivory cubic
Snake in two parts leer up at me
Does this mean defeat at the hands of fate?
Nonsense! I am the hand of fate
The left, disused one to be exact;
It is not chivalrous to use me
Yet I am the hand of many things
I know nothing of hands or of dice
I tell lies instead

As we fall so shall we rise
where the truth became the lies and the blue that I saw was not the blue deep in your eyes
but the shadows that played underneath azure skies
where judgements like wine
flowed from the vine and the pillars of palaces wrapped in pearl necklaces
came tumbling down.
In the time of nothing and plenty where nothing sufficed
and sacrifices were made upon the altars of Gods we no longer prayed too
and the blue that I saw was not there any more but had challenged itself to turn grey.

This was another day that I sat and waited for inspiration to come
Grey
no sun, just grey
where the lights fade away and the colours wash dry and the cry that tries to creep out from my parched lips is stripped of its sound
and no sound issues forth but a grunting (pig that I am..of course)
Then in the distance it takes for time to make its movements around the night where the aches and the pain can only be cured by (novo.'co)caine'
and in the backlots where hotshots sold cheap goods on the side
I slide deeper in the dark and by the lake within the park where the ducks have long gone to the market a song comes to mind,
(pack up your troubles in your old kit bag..)
and I find it's not that bad
it's not that great
I can take a little stress so let them try to mess with me and we'll see what we will see when I rise to find the blue becomes again the colour in your eyes and the shining from your face is the sun set in another place..yes the day has come once more
the day that I once read about and swore it was a fairy tale.
Thus again the light shines upon the madness of our times and I for one am glad
that today it doesn't seem so mad
but we shall see.

Sometimes things seem to good to be true, but it doesn't mean they usually are...

I've gone from having everything to nothing, until 100% turned to 0. I've had an addiction so bad I sold everything until I had nothing , but a DVD starring Robert DeNiro.

I've burnt bridges with almost everyone I know
looking back my path of ash looks like grey and white snow.

Watched people cry, watched people die, If I told you I think they got what they deserved it would be a lie.

I've put needles in my arm trying to erase pain
All it did was kill my pride and usher in shame.

At one point in time when running from the law cause I had commited so much crime, I found myself at a Denny's buying coffee, with nowhere to go, sipping til' the sun came up cause I didn't have another dime.

Never left the cities, but I was off the map for years
my mother tried writing letters, I could barely make out the writing cause the ink was so smeared from her tears

If I was a turtle my shell would have a huge crack
If you met me today, you might say wisdom is something I don't lack
It's only causeI've been to hell and now I'm back

Today my feet are on the ground and things are great
It took being beat, sent to the human pound and almost prison up state

Ten years is the statue of limitations in CA, so for now I'm gonna count my blessin's , close my mouth and keep some confessions. You can look at hard times like bad luck or just take them as one of life's lessons.

Sometimes things seem so bad it makes you wanna quit, but you gotta keep trying and if you really want something, take another stab
reach out and grab it!


If you know the outcome and the consequence of a decision, then it's nobody's fault but yours if you suffer a penalty...

-J.A.M

Cascading madness takes hold
(My crazy romantic heart's been sold)
To the queen from faraway

Sold my soul for a smile today

We try to keep clean
(if you know what I mean…)
Above the waist
But this relational bullshits got a bitter taste

Freedom with no strings
(yeah, it's one of those things…)
One night stand at hand
But the torn heart is sometimes too hard to mend

Drinking and smoking to excess
(Drugs were during recess)
I had a drink, I didn't think
But now I've taken us to the brink

To late
To lazy
…But they never thought we could make it anyway

-Azrael Always James
© Copyright 2013

Of little paws,
innocent, precious ones
their spirit snatched. Gone.
Sold to the Chinese factories
The irony of the elephant.

They hunger for hides
for skins and bones, for coats.
Ignoring the blood
they burn plastic by the ocean -
will justice be so long to come?

A life in a cage
not a choice, taken by force
helpless and broken
how does it feel to melt
when polar ice caps are home?

In the beginning,
authority was given,
with responsibility
for ours is a gift, but why
do we throw Consciousness away?

Of little paws,
innocent, precious ones
their spirit snatched. Gone.
Sold to the Chinese factories
The irony of the elephant.

They hunger for hides
for skins and bones, for coats.
Ignoring the blood
they burn plastic by the ocean -
will justice be so long to come?

A life in a cage
not a choice, taken by force
helpless and broken
how does it feel to melt
when polar ice caps are home?

In the beginning,
authority was given,
with responsibility
for ours is a gift, but why
do we throw Consciousness away?

There’s a man on the ice-cream van.
Choices galore, one can’t want more,
vanilla, strawberry, chocolate…
But on the hot day his fate
is to lie in stupor,
he can’t have one!
The poor man is sleeping on his ice-cream van.
Though dazed with the heat
he can’t retreat
with a cup or a bar,
He sells the cold
all pieces must be sold
he mustn’t have one!
The guy dreams on the ice-cream van.
Flavors galore, as he opens the door,
vanilla, strawberry, chocolate…
He mustn’t lust
must overcome thirst
let others have fun,
he mustn’t even have one!

always mindful
   not to love things

living so that they
   all could burn
and it would be nothing
   but an inconvenience

three objects
   have escaped my plan
maneuvered
   through my designs

1. old white macbook
   my beautiful
       smart
         well-designed
  whirring piece of brilliant technology
you are already gone. next.

2. wedding rings
  irrelevant
sold those motherfuckas in an instant

3. asian machine love
  i am having a hard time
having to let you go
  my beautiful, black mitsubishi.

i chose you.

i researched for weeks
  analyzing data
comparing machines
  prices
trying to be reasonable

and out of all the machines,
i.chose.you.

you are the perfect shape
  of all vehicle shapes, mitsubishi
i have a slight obsession with
   design
     lines
   c o l o r
      efficiency
speed
    and b  o  o  m  i  n  g SOUND

you are the perfect balance of safety
  including 4WD
and fuel efficiency
  (but you already knew that, didn't you?)

your headlights are so bright
  and your high beams
so magnificent
  it's almost embarrassing

mitsubishi, you little snake...
  you have a manual mode
so i can choose to be a race car driver
  whenever i want

mitsubishi outlander sport, i love you so

let's talk about your face
  you have a pig-face like me
your nose is abrupt
  it's blunt and it's different
and i love it

you know i hate the cold and the snow
  i love the sun and the moon
so you show them to me all the time
  moonroof, mitsubishi - brilliant
(with mood lighting for night? you dog!)

you wipe away the rain
  without me having to ask
you cast light into the dark
  all on your own
gps
  usb
subwoofer
  fockford fosgate
bluetooth

mitsubishi, you shake the earth
  alerting my family
that i am almost there
  blasting music
through my dna
  so that i am made
of vibrations and air
  invisible to the naked eye
or playing my science fiction audiobooks
  at a reasonable
and responsible volume

mitsubishi,
you respond to me with such grace
showing me impossibilities
with a rearview camera
saying, "hello!" in the morning
and, "see ya!" when i leave
(and i believe you mean it)

you heat my ass in the frigid winter
  an alert me with an icon
when i am losing traction
  or there may be ice
i could not ask for more, my machine love.

the deer was not your fault.
or mine, or the deer's.
  we were all doing what we do,
and to be quite honest,
  the deer got the shit end of the stick, mitsubishi.
i'm sorry about your dent and your crack
  i wanted to fix it, but i love you even more now

you are my one machine love
  with power
combustion
  and pistons
you are electric
  intelligent
and you boom
  sleek
comfortable
  well designed

i don't want to see you burn.
it would be more than an inconvenience.

two out of three things are gone.

but i chose you. i want you still.

my home is gone - fine.
my things are gone - fine.
that bastard is gone - fine.
my job is gone, mitsubishi.
  i am being stripped bare.

i am being humbled, mitsubishi.

i have to let you go.

but i'm not ready,
my asian machine love.

Stumbled from a dream,
Tripped along a silken path,
Flowers bless enamel,
Got diamonds in my bath,
Candles twinkle merrily,
Verily,
As in his mind I bathe,
Always!


His pleasant presence, swirls before my eyes,
Blessing my cheeks,
Scolding my tears,
Souls not sold,
Between two, of sparking minds entwined,
Always in each other's thoughts,
A tryst of mutual trust between us,
Lives,
Paradise not lost!

Stepped from a page,
Straight into a fantasy,
Where you're still you and I'm still me!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)