So I've got this story...
And it goes a little something like this-

There's a girl that I hurt really bad on way too many occasions that I love more than anything. Pretty much everything I write on here is about her. She became the love of my life, and I told myself she was the one I wanted to spend my life with. Except I was a ****. She was going somewhere to an event that lasted 2 weeks and was really important to her and let's just say I ****** it all up really really bad. She made a lot of friends there and it was a great experience for her, kind of like camp is for some people, how boy/girl scouts are for some people, and she learned a lot there, and had lots of fun too. I was so horrible to do what I did.

At least we're young though, and there's still time to grow...right? I'm only 18, she's almost 18, and we both have lives to live ahead of us. I feel like I need her though. She treated me perfectly in our relationship. I mean, looking back, there's nothing I can fault her for, at all. I just got ****** at stupid crap that doesn't even matter.

Except, she's into somebody else now and probably thinks I'm no good for her. She doesn't talk to me anymore. Anyway, I'm rambling, I haven't gone to bed, I took a bunch of pills, am getting sick, and it's 7 AM...so here goes. This story is somewhat censored, though.

_________________­___________
"The Worst Weeks of Our Lives"

I met this girl and she became the love of my life. She took me places I'd never gone before and her and I fell in love like some people wouldn't believe. Ask my friends. Ask her friends. No, her friends probably wouldn't admit to it anymore. But I choose to remember the things they said. Kids were like totally rooting for us all day every day. We were so perfect. It was great.

So with a few mistakes here and there, (mostly me...all me, really) we realized we weren't perfect. But it didn't hamper out love. Nobody is perfect, right? We realized that. Overcame.

But then, we went too far. Her parents drew lines we weren't supposed to cross. Oopsies. Her mom really put me in my place. I'll just leave it at that. Asked me when my 18th birthday was, so she could mark her calendar as the "day she could touch me". Told me I was a liar. Husband in the background drunk and screaming, as usual. Except screaming "that ***** ain't sorry. He ain't ******* sorry, ******* ******* marking up my ******* daughter I can show him how to be ******* sorry"

Lots more. I'll go crazy if I speak the rest. It was a hickey on her neck. We didn't do much more.

I got really scared. I mean, they were brutal. I wasn't used to that kind of brutal. Psychotic levels of brutal. All of the sudden I became numb. I stopped being so intimate with my girlfriend. They told me not to come around their house anymore. I started doubting myself. If I was any good for her. She cried and cried. Told me how sorry she was. For getting us in trouble, and for what her parents did. But it wasn't her fault. After all, I am the vampire that bit her neck.

After a few weeks, her parents dropped it completely. I didn't though. I was so traumatized. I'd been getting flashbacks. Nightmares. So scared, I was. I kept avoiding her, not only her parents. I mean, I didn't have a car anyways, so the only place I could go to see her was at her house. She reassured me I was allowed. But with no contact with her parents since the phone call that changed my life I was reluctant.

This was around 2 months before she was going to go to a 2 week event. A special event to her. One I'd even wished I'd gotten involved in. Really, I did wish. I just missed the application deadline. Throughout the next two months, we grew more and more distant. I was harsh on her. I hurt her. I'd get mad at her and then call her and talk to her until 3 in the morning. I made her hate herself, and then she felt bad about me feeling sorry too. "You always force yourself to be nice to me just so I feel better, but I'm ****, I'm trash, I'm nothing, I'm so sorry" she would say. Most of the time, she didn't even do anything wrong. One of my best friends died at the same time her parents killed me inside, I spent all my days sleeping and crying and when I wasn't doing that, I was getting angry at her (and quickly regretting it), manufacturing conflicts that were completely unnecessary. Not to mention I'd had health issues, and my parents kicked me out of my house a few months beforehand.

In the time before she left to her special event, I really tore her up. I said the dumbest things I've ever said to someone in my life. I'd never even said such dumb things to even an object, or myself. Why I would say them to a girl who saved me from suicide (I was very unstable and depressed when coming out of a bad relationship, and getting kicked out of home) and why I said it all to someone I wanted to spend my life with I'll never know.

The dumbest things I'll ever say to anything that breathes in my lifetime. I told her one night that the "only reason I was still with her was because if I left she'd hurt herself" (she had a history of self harm, even though she's the sweetest girl I've ever met) and another night I told her "If only she were going somewhere important I'd understand" and lots of other insensitive and selfish things that I can't even believe came out of my mouth. I mean, the whole basis of it was that her and I hadn't spent much time together (really because of my own selfish fears) and I was going all *** on her testosterone-fueled-rage style for days over and over and over.

Don't I sound like a horrible person? I was. I was horrible to her. As much as I hate to say it, I'll probably make similar mistakes again someday - It's like relapsing - but I'll make every effort I can to learn from my horrible past and never be that person again.

So when she went to the event, I was with my grandparents out of state and I downloaded my favorite sad playlist (Staind, great band) to listen to on the trip.

Yes, seriously. I told her that stuff and called her event unimportant and then I went away too. How stupid I was for what I said. I should have been slapped or something.

A day or two after I'd left, I realized how stupid it was of me. For the whole thing. That whole time. That whole span, those two months where I not only neglected her, but emotionally ****** her.

There's a song called "Tangled Up In You" that has the most wonderful and intimate lyrics and I listened to it and sung to it over and over and over late into the morning (I'm talking 3-4 in the morning) every night for like 10 days and along with a song called "Right Here" by the same band. I cried myself to sleep so extremely ashamed of what I'd just done to her.

I knew I was wrong, but what I didn't know was that she was crying her eyes out wrapped up in (someone else)'s arms at that event...
I didn't know she was getting all kinds of love and support.
I had no idea...not that it was bad, it was good because she needed it.

But it got her to thinking about me, what kind of person I was.
When we both got back, I started making more of an effort to spend time with her and go out of my way to talk to her, make her happy, and basically, stop being such a ****.
Except she just got confused and conflicted because she was numb and falling out of love, because I was nothing that anyone should love, to her, over that prior time.

Her mom broke us up about a month later, after some...you know what, I'll just leave that bit out...
I told you how the first phone call went. The phone calls I got from her and her husband in the end were just so much worse. I don't even want to think about them. I went into convulsions and kept dropping the phone.

I went back to these two songs to help keep my sanity and I belted out "Tangled Up In You" every day in my car... so loud I was losing my voice.

I'd had some communication with her, surprised her at her work one night, bought her flowers, wrote her my true feelings on some napkins, showed up when she got out of school one day, when she was deathly afraid, and surprised her with a smile and drew a heart on her hand...

Her and I were on the same page. She still loved me. She was just hurt. I still loved her. I was just trying to make up for the compromised mental state I spent so much time in. I had compromised hers too. I needed to get her out of it. She told me she would wait for me. That we were in a speed bump, that it would all be okay.

So some weeks passed, a month, and she still had my back. As strong as ever. Her parents found out I bought the flowers. They found out I'd been talking to her. But...

Knowing she still had my back, that she still loved me, and that she would wait for me...she called what her mom did (in breaking us up, in our break) a "speed bump"...I was okay with it. I mean, I really wanted to be a part of her life, but man, her parents HATED ME! (In retrospect, probably with good reason. Shame on me for the things I did to her. Really.)

We had some major issues (mostly due to my inability to shut my stupid mouth) and I decided that maybe some time to ourselves to focus on ourselves and think was a good thing. She could focus on loving herself again and I could focus on becoming a better person.

I mean, when her parents found out her and I were still talking to each other after they broke us up, they blocked my number on her phone, went to my church and made up extra stories to my pastor, (told him I'd came and banged on their door at one in the morning one night), when I called to apologize to them they didn't pick up, called me back later to cuss me out and hang up on me, logged into their daughters facebook account and blocked me, then told their daughter that I had called them when she was sleeping and cussed them both out, and that she was to have nothing to do with me again. They threatened legal action against me, too. Tried to make my life hell. They didn't want me around their daughter, ever again. A blind rage that went on for a very long time until every communication route was blocked.

She went to school and told her friends the false stories her parents told her, and her friends already didn't like me...I mean just look at what I had done before...it wasn't good. Not for me, anyway. Also her. She felt duped. Used. By her parents. She didn't know who to trust or what was real. Everyone was telling her how horrible I was.

I got a chance to talk to her one day. We talked for hours, face to face. Sat in the cold and talked. It was an amazing talk. We caught each other up completely on our lives. We talked about our love. Our past. Our emotions. All of them. Good and bad. But we told each other we'd always love each other. She stuck by me, and also reassured me that she always would. I left that conversation feeling so secure. The most I'd felt since way before I'd become a total **** to her. When her and I were so deep in love.

She's always wanted to go far away from college. She told me stories of her past and what her parents did to her, what she did to herself that were not good. Not good at all. She wanted to get away from her parents.

Meanwhile I was so caught up in the feelings she gave me when I was in her arms, I almost couldn't handle the fact that she wanted to leave. I pleaded for her to stay, in a time that her and I were both unstable and it was already taboo that we were even on the same property. But still, she said "she wanted to stay" because her and I work so well together...when we work together, that is, and I and her were both determined to work together. I told her I would do anything for her. In all of it though, I told her that the decision was in her hands and I would still love her the same if she left, and that I would wait for her. Because I loved her more than anything.

After that talk, things got quiet. I guess, too quiet. I was legally bound to stay away from her. I talked to someone she worked with and asked them to tell her hello for me. I thought though, we were on good terms following the talk, I thought she'd be elated to hear from me.

She never responded.

One day, a couple weeks later, she told me I really needed to get over her. That she didn't love me like that anymore. She told me she'd been falling out of love since the summer, and she'd gone crazy and needed space. She said she wanted to be friends, but no relationship. No relationship anymore. She said she couldn't handle it. She said she couldn't handle a relationship in general.

She made that message a bit accusatory. I'd been talking to two friends, one who I'd known for years and a new one I'd just made. Both overlapping friends with hers. Those two helped keep me sane.

She started that message with "I heard you've been messaging my friends, and to be honest, I haven't had the heart to message you back." She repeated multiple times that I needed to get over her. She told me that it wasn't anyone else's influence too. She even listed people. People who'd separated us. Hurt me. Hurt her, in a way, but encouraged her in others.

At the same time, she blocked me on facebook again. She had unblocked me when she found out her parents did it for her. Odd though...I thought she wanted to be friends. I mean, it was like the only way I was able to have her in my life at all. To read her facebook posts and her read mine. To have discussions with friends. We have a lot of overlapping friends.

Man, she killed me. One second I thought she was my soul mate and the next I was in the bathroom puking my guts out because she was telling me we'd never be together again.


So fast forward to today...I still love her. And she's basically in a relationship with someone else. She's also either on the fence about her sexuality, or decided she doesn't like boys anymore. I feel bad about that too. Its like I ruined male relationships for her. It's only been a few weeks since she told me I needed to get over her. She doesn't talk to me anymore. I go to high school events even though I graduated last year just to see her. When I don't approach her, she ignores me. I'm just another person in the room. When I do approach her, she has such a scared look on her face. She doesn't want to talk to me, but she can't be mean to me. She's falling in love with someone else and she's getting happier. She doesn't need me showing up everywhere just to depress her.

Yet I keep bothering her. Because I'm a sucker for her. I can't help it. I love her. I want her to be my future. But at this point I'm grasping at straws. So hard. I shouldn't be trying anymore. But I'll end up trying until the day I die. And only then will I stop believing in her and I. I know it's a pipe dream. But I'll hold onto it. Because it's the only thing I have left of myself now.

Last night, (I mean, right before I wrote this around 5 AM, it is now 8 AM) I played those two songs again. I forgot they were at the end of my playlist and I started shivering and crying my eyes out. I got chills. I got so cold. The tears just ran. They ran down my face faster than I've cried in a long, long time.

I'm only okay right now because I took a bunch of pills. Pills that have this kind of effect on me. They make me kind of numb. Kind of happy. Upper and downer both.

That's pretty much, my sad ending to a sad story.
I'm living the kind of life that only people like Shane Koyczan know how to explain to people.

Ironically, she loves Shane Koyczan.
I do too.
We grew up in broken homes and lived broken lives until we found each other.
Then we broke each other.

But she's falling for someone else, because I wasn't what I should have been to her, and she knows
But she doesn't believe in me anymore, the way I believe in her...because I wasn't what I should have been to her, and she can't hold onto me when I'm a 50/50 chance, of bringing her down again.
If only she would let me hug her again, kiss her one more time...I could die happy, knowing I poured all my heart and soul out into that last kiss.
But I'm a gamble. And she can't put her heart out on the line for someone who wasn't always good to her. She used to call me her "sweet boy" and she still tells me I'll always be her "sweet boy", but the fact of the matter is, it doesn't cut it to only be sweet s

Staind Horseshoe Concert
You bumping me
On purpose
Turned around
You smiling  
Wish I'd done something
Pretty lady
Can't get you out of my head

Church of InsanityA melody as old as life as dead as time, plays threw these blood staind walls of this old church of insanity.This church still alive with the ones slain watching me.Walking down the ile, making my way to the alter and crouching prayers of self preservation and of strength to think of myself and gaurd only myself...As my desires bigger then my heart I know I am only as big as my heart wills it and only as good as what I see in myself not what others see of me..ac/12/11/97

I am a gift waiting forever
No one dares to look inside
Treasure hidden beneath pain
It's only one way to stay alive

Walls built, concrete failed
Colors mixed, oil staind
Beauty

-a.s

"When the sins of my father,
weigh down in my soul,
and the pain of my mother,
will not let me go"


you told me when i'd grow up i'd understand some day,
but ever since we went our seperate ways I could never grip why it had to be this way,
back and forth until you slammed the door and went away,
To come back for more and slap your "*****" across the face,

But somethin brought you back to your senses like it always did,
hate your life and blamed your wife but loved your kids,
you staind her mind and made her cry and punched and kicked until she layed to die with bloodshot eyes you ****** *****,

All the alcohol and drugs you did just made me sick,
only ******* hit their women,
I shoulda sprayed a clip,

Sometimes I wished you'd never come back to me cuz I saw my mama truly happy,
and I know that deep inside she loved you once,
but one punch was enough and the rest that came was just too much,
every day you showed up drunk,
it was the same old same and still she showed her love,
I guess you never could appreciate her for what she truly was,

The image of a beautiful lady bruised up is tatted in my brain,
its guys like you that give guys like me a bad name,
cuz "we're all the same" and that could never change,
but one **** up's enough,
who'd walk back to pain?

Bruises fade and scars are covered,
but emotional damage sticks with you,
I love my mother and I know you loved her too,
and what you did wasn't right to you,
but what happened, happened,
I shoulda stuck a knife in you,

She tried for you but won for us,
me and my sisters,
I love em so much and I tell you what,
if they meet a punk like you i'll rip out his tongue,

I won't forgive you for what you done,
but you're still my dad and i'm still your son-

Then I look at you as a person,
I saw through your eyes and heard you cry,
you were always hurtin,
and I don't why but i'm like that too,
I guess we're the same in a way,
maybe that's why I don't like you,

Well i'm older now and I kinda get it,
I had some time to think and I wish you didn't leave,
we left the house but you left for good,
now it hurts every time I drink,
every drug I do reminds me of you,
maybe i'm just tryna hide the pain every time I fly away,
20 year old alcoholic,
i'm in your shoes every step I take,
I even look like you for christ's sake,
its like we got the same brain,

The day you left it hit me,
and ever since it felt like somethin's missing,
but for reasons unexplained I don't wana see your face,
its not because I hate but maybe I just changed,
all that I can say is I hope that you're okay,
my bad for bein cold but my feelings complicate,
but the fact that you're only human is clouded,
all the times that you shouted and pounded your fists in her again and again,
****** me off to no end,
i'm chokin on regret of not jumpin in to bust your head,
i'd give up everything to know you're dead,
nothin's left but painful memories-


"when the sins of my father,
Weigh down in my soul,
and the pain of my mother,
will not let me go,"
i'm consumed in regret,
I shoulda stepped in,
but please forgive me mother,
I was too young-

Take my winnings and leave me with my mistakes...
Brighter days be gone from memory.
I've seen the sudden loss of life that only comes with ******....
memories of happier days are clouded in my head,
I try and find a simple thought, to over think and push away the images that that staind my brain and hid so much of myself away....
See I try and be a good guy,
Most child killers do!
Most of us, not all of us but certainly some, myself  included.
Take what they see and then forget it all.
It's easier to sit in the moment, relive the trama, and resee the colors and hear the screams because after that life was gone so we're our dreams....
We keep so much away from others,at 12yo I saw a homie blow a pleading man's head off.
I don't wanna think more about the good times...... Take my happy days back.....
At 13yo i watched bodies drop after I took the shot I was told to take.
How can I see there fate so suddenly come to an end, and smile at the birth of my son....
There souls set heavy on my shoulders, I say nothing of there demis. Who am I to speak apon another man's life that my hand has taken?
I'm sorry, that I at the time I was a stone and showed no hesitation, taking away the one person that could have saved us....
No I cry in my sleep... when they come back in my thoughts and create nightmares as vengens....
Others see me  distant and angry but
I just lose myself in practicing apologies.....
So when you holla and I ignore ya, or turn around and unload on ya. It's cuz I'll never find the words that'll make my theft of life ok......

Send my happiness to the souls

What a mess I have become.
Torn, wet,cold and crippled.
Frozen lips, blue as the sky and as dead as the grave.
Cut and staind with blood I look down to see a reflection of myself through a ****** pool...
I scream out but only the distant abyss of the canyon can hear and reply its echos which send the beasts of the wilderness a stray.
My legs tremble to the powerful might of the shakes from this scared earth, I grab at it but too late to feel it, I slip sending me to the ground laying my hair down to my knees...
I hope that there is always a light in the night but I guess in this nightmare there is only a faceless darkness that always claws at my feet...
I reach out and dig my hand into the earth, running my hand to the nib ripped and bleeding...
I was once thoughs clouds that darken the earth but now thoughs clouds darken me...
I make one more attempt to rise but the ground trembles before me and I start to slip once again..
and grab the edge like a lioness would grab its prey's neck.
It was not enough and my body goes limp and my fingers go numb and they break loose....
At that instance I felt a presence of warmth crash on top of me like a wave of warmth entangled around my wrists, knocking my cold and limp body into the side of the cliff and starts to reel me upwards.....
Feeling the ground beneath my feet, safely bringing me back to where I started once again....
ac/10/24/09

...and when I looked inside myself
searching for a reason to live,
I met a tall child.

...and when I asked
his name?
He responded in rhythmic patterns
I had never heard
With elocution that left me standing
shocked and breathless
in the vacuum his
vocal inflections
had created.

...and he told me:
"All we know
we learned from Jun Fan,
like a finger pointing
a way to the moon. But
the stiff palm no longer
falls upon us,
we have learned
the methods of aversion
but what else have we learned?"

...and in the instance
of hesitation
the eternity in
the second I spent
searching for the words,
He vanished.

I shouted into the light
after him:
We have learned
to fall in love.
We have learned
to open our steel breastplate
and entrust our fragility
to another. and
We have been cut to bits for it
So
We have learned to heal
to gather
the pieces of ourselves
thrown to the floor by
those we cared for most
sewn together with twine
staind by the
red of our essence

A mark for all to see,
I Am
Scarred but not broken
Standing until the end

I can't breathe anymore;
there's a weight on my
chest like a boulder.
I'm numb,
although my ribs
are breaking.
I can hear them
crack, but I can't
feel their splintered
ends in my sides.
I'm drowning;
my thoughts consume me.
They coat my throat like
tar, sticky and black.
They hold down my
tongue, make it
heavy like lead.
I'm suffocating,
hands around my neck,
blue in the face,
red in the lips,
crack and dried up,
a desert in the
winter snow.
I'm bleeding out,
ruby staind,
purple bruises.
I'm singing an
auria,
a muffled hymn,
a cry for help.

Your staind glass eyes
Your tears so colourful
My broken swords
My deteriorating armour

You feel like you're all alone
I feel that I can help you
Your being is torn in two
I have a needle and thread

You and I could be something
You and I could love again
I could be yours
You could be mine

We can be us once again

poetry isn't poetry anymore
it didn't always used to be about artifical ink on a screen
it was about the paper stained ink
the paper that makes you think
the blank page seen as a challenge to those who knew about storms
a blanket on the cold nights you thought you'd freeze to death
ink was a super power
now turned into a machine
automatic
artifical
when it used to be just art
memories that started with a pen
a treasure hunt
all through time square
times there were ink stains in the bathroom on the floor
bike riding in your mind leving a trail behind
but screens go treasure hunting for you
ink staind
be sane
report button when you don't filter who you are
i don't need to filter my blood stains
machins don't poetry for you

Yes, believe me you,
I (also considered the best karaoke singer
for the go-go's)
putting Shabrina Leonita to shame
back in two thousand and twenty one
once flew high as the eagles
a grateful dead foo fighting,
earth wind and fire, beastie boy adult,

thus hopefully explaining why
I joined blue oyster cult
begetting the following rhyme I exult
while exuding angelic,
beatific, electric, fantastic,
idyllic, Judaic, kaleidoscopic
halo shimmering galt
garnering heavenly indault.

Without wearing a helm mitt on my head,
yet did suffer inxs
of welts the size of cranberries
amidst talking heads, whose traffic
mishap of cars unable to stp,
thus this passenger indistinguishable from
avast metallica skidrow populated
with heart shaped pearl jam wreckage
upon smashing pumpkins everywhere
with an evanescence shimmering
like spilt midnight oil, which dire straits

charged the super ***** ping
man-made debacle into kiss
from grateful dead village people whose
beatle brows scrunched tight
creating black crows imprimatur
resembling little feet easily mistaken
for hair line fractures,
which strongly appealed to the goo goo dolls,
who lived three doors down
purportedly within which

resided a queen latifah
(an iron maiden ruling america and europe)
plus when asked for bread, she point
in one direction, mere rolling stones away
the black eyed peas, whose ac/dc power
crowded house did feel as if 10,000 maniacs
did squeeze into a tiny black hole,
thus forsaking experiencing nirvana,
with near asphyxiation attributable
to lack of air supply so carpenters got called

to expand and golong
with a gilt emblazoned cupola –
just for kix, and to lure
a silly rabbit doing trix
any wonder full stevie adore,
which teamsters included
skilled one tradesman
roof WinWrite, these collective souls,
a veritable culture club unto themselves
off phish shill lee within the a similar
reo speedwagon as sly and the family stone
choosing king crimson to manage the influx

qua motley crue, which jane's addiction
kept ideal bad company for alice n chains,
the latter whose enslavement
akin to cinderella deprived such indigo girls
to jet set with their sought after
prince charming (even resigning themselves
to a Jethro tull type), or a chap
similar to the garden variety allman brothers,
who didst serve as Lumineers
doobie brothers morale booster

to an imaginary dragon (which beastie boy
foo fighting animals owned
by the legendary kings of leon),
whose mythic storied
BuzzFeed  incorporated their encounter
with blondie (who donned a golden earring),
which Dixie chick happened to be hail a van
driven by the everly brothers,
which latter escaped be combing caged
like monkeys in a zoo,

and carved out a niche
as beach boys blessedly banished,
where they fed on red hot chili peppers
dredged via bay city rollers
to sustain their being a survivor,
and welcomed by experiencing rebirth
viz genesis, whar
mambo kings proffered palliative
to smooth kinks concomitant with cast off
as a foreigner on maroon 5.

Zealousness yowled x wise,
venturesomely urged viz thighs
sensuousness roared qua prize of nascent
marvelous libidinal kisses jeweled iridescent
hides genital fulfillment
explodes delicious capacious brides’
atonement breathtakingly conceding conception
decides elopement fashions gustatory hoopla
insides jot kickstarter
latching mightily nourishing oxides
maids visited  unmet
testosterone satiation roared.

The brothers Gibb
lit roches ****** madness
jumpstarting, mustering puckering,
snickering at barenaked lady
male fraud betraying faithful missus,
(a veritable madonna)
meowed lamentably
analogous to cat stevens
kindling joyousness indeed.

Hotmail garnered fingerhut egghead
drew capitalone BuzzFeed amen.

These are the things often only heard in
Dreams, these are the unseen,
These are the songs of those who ride
On waves of wind without wings
I love you,
Love like there were never any stars.
when time was ours,
The tides of eager rushing
Blood pressing its way through
Our veins, oh oh they roar
The great stars name!
Oh what glorious light!
How it's holds the day
Like a beat in its heart.
I hope you know
I wanted you for life
Even though home,
is where, you won't come.
So now the days just die,
And life just falls from the clock,
The clouds grow thicker,
And it is my sickened heart
That withers under the pressure
of its own beating,
the quietus revealing an unfamiliar reasoning,
its pummeling force
tumbling down the vacant isles
behind my souls own cage,
of bones, of flesh,
soaked and staind with
time;
and the deep from the blue ,
wearily sleeps within
the storms womb waiting
to roar apart from the mind,
then it will be done,
i will only be
adrift, among embers and carcasses,
of steel and brick,
a city falling,
it's shattered windows,
awake where the end
goes forward with time,
windows give only
height to the sight of their reach;
a path as jagged and daunting as
its lightning's spine,
the fingertips, as well the vine,
outstretched

of scorpion stinging poison us marriage,
whereby the missus and I
experienced genesis as
mama and papa respectively.

(jest kibitizing)

thus explaining why I
(a sixty five year young adult,
albeit beatle browed)
joined blue oyster cult
to live out my dream as
a Norwegian bachelor farmer
yours truly doth exult.

Without wearing a helm mitt on my head,
yet did suffer inxs
of welts the size of cranberries
amidst talking heads, whose traffic
mishap of cars unable to stp,
thus this passenger indistinguishable from
avast metallica skidrow populated
with heart shaped pearl jam wreckage
upon smashing pumpkins everywhere
with an evanescence shimmering
like spilt midnight oil, which dire straits

charged the super ***** ping
man-made debacle into kiss
from grateful dead village people whose
beatle brows scrunched tight
creating black crows imprimatur
resembling little feet easily mistaken
for hairline fractures,
which strongly appealed
to the goo goo dolls,
who lived three doors down
purportedly within which

resided a queen latifah
(an iron maiden ruling america)
plus when asked for bread, she point
in one direction, mere rolling stones away
the black eyed peas, whose ac/dc power
crowded house did feel
as if 10,000 maniacs
did squeeze into a tine hole,
thus forsaking experiencing nirvana,
with near asphyxiation attributable
to lack of air supply
so carpenters got called

to expand and golong
with a gilt emblazoned cupola –
just for kix, and to lure
any wonder full steve adore,
which teamsters included
skilled one tradesman
roof WinWrite, these collective souls,
a veritable culture club unto themselves
off phish shill lee within the a similar
reo speedwagon as sly and the family stone
choosing king crimson
to manage the influx

qua motley crue, which jane's addiction
kept ideal bad company for alice n chains,
the latter whose enslavement
akin to cinderella deprived such indigo girls
to jet set with their sought after
prince charming (even resigning themselves
to a Jethro tull type), or a chap
similar to the garden variety allman brothers,
who didst serve to Lumineers
doobie brothers morale booster

to an imaginary dragon
(which beastie boy
foo fighting animals owned
by the legendary kings of leon),
whose mythic storied
BuzzFeed  incorporated their encounter
with blondie (who donned a golden earring),
which Dixie chick happened to be hail a van
driven by the everly brothers,
which latter escaped be combing caged
like monkeys in a zoo,

and carved out a niche
as beach boys blessedly banished,
where they fed on red hot chili peppers
dredged via bay city rollers
to sustain their being a survivor,
and welcomed by experiencing rebirth
viz genesis, whar
mambo kings proffered palliative
to smooth kinks concomitant with cast off
as a foreigner on maroon 5.

Zealousness yowled x wise,
venturesomely urged viz thighs
sensuousness roared qua prize of nascent
marvelous libidinal kisses jeweled iridescent
hides genital fulfillment
explodes delicious capacious brides’
atonement breathtakingly conceding conception
decides elopement fashions gustatory hoopla
insides jot kickstarter
latching mightily nourishing oxides
maids visited  unmet
testosterone satiation roared.

Queefer madness puckering of naked missus
(a veritable madonna)
meowed lamentably kindling joyousness indeed.

Hotmail garnered fingerhut egghead
drew capitalone BuzzFeed amen.

I take stock and revisit good ole days of yore
quite conscious undeclared state of war
prevails within body electric of troubadour
now seated at his Macbook Pro
today February 20, 2021.

Since January thirteenth of this year
(two thousand and twenty one),
yours truly suddenly feels
long in the tooth, i.e. auld,
he whose decrepit body and
gnarled hands ice cold
rigor mortis virtuous vice grip extolled
coronavirus (COVID-19) motherlode
analogous to discovered vein of mined gold

grim reaper with scythe doth silently infold
(in Old English, scythe spelled siðe)
ore yonder church bell knolled
anonymous sexagenarian
(any strong resemblance between said poet
whose dead head lolled),
and once living person purely coincidental)
death and decay, I lichen to mold
scant personal possessions outsold
to highest bidder.

Dead weatherbeaten and fatigued soul
with absolute zero regret
no longer being alive,
especially when endurance and stamina
took kamikaze nose dive
formerly buzzfeeding
desiccated honeycomb hive

in tandem with former anxiety riddled psyche
need no longer worry
his existence perfect example
how hardship did misthrive
death be not proud penultimate quest
since adolescence (think anorexia nervosa)
he did (unsuccessfully) strive.

At long last... beastie boy attained nirvana
routing hellish existential crisis
courtesy earth, wind and fire
rendered null and void celibate journey
knight in shining armor
forever staind and tarnished
compliments verboten extramarital whoopie.

Herewith I forthwith take poetic license
linkedin to long line of mamas and the papas
whose music died
when passenger(s) violently perished
courtesy flaming inferno
analogous to L(ead) Z(eppelin) 129
christened Hindenburg.

Along similar blurred lines
foo fighter manned ****** temple pilot
Jefferson Airplane qua Starship
gracefully and slickly
deliberately maneuvered crash test dummy
immediately annihilated upon impact
smack dab into puddle of mudd,
yet lo and behold as a foreigner
and survivor yours truly eluded dire straits.

Oz suppose during whirlwind Kansas tour,
while snatching forty winks
in toto working out kinks,
I experienced revelation
regarding divine creator - Egypt me
never securing life, liberty
and pursuit of happiness
elusive weltanschauung as understanding,

the mysterious Sphinx,
yes essentially zilch joie de vivre
minus high jinks
aptly summarizes mein kampf methinks
my life and hard times
whereby vitriol pelted me
courtesy those rat finks.

Nihilistic zeitgeist
apocalyptic outlook sacrificed
no redemption no matter
how figuratively purposelessness sliced
unlike mum man crucified Jesus Christ.

Two kids pure and dangerous in their youth, sit and stare at one another. Eyes meeting in a deep thought. Lips embracing in a tear staind kiss. For a moment there's no more you or I. For one moment two naïve youths become lovers, become friends in a meeting place of hearts. This lasts a moment..and in an instant they become old in their love. The hate and anguish grows at a steady rate, resentment fills the empty spaces of fingers and lips..they are left hollow in their beauty and shallow in their feelings. This is the end of them, of us, of each and every love we have known. This is each of our stories, atleast once upon a time

analogous to expending precious Air Supply
embellishing, modifying, revising, et cetera
a poem crafted about fourteen months ago.

I take stock and revisit good ole days of yore
quite conscious undeclared state of war
prevails within body (Electric
Light Orchestra) of troubadour,
whereby creative juices did perforce pour
forth as if sung by one man koor;
now he haply seated at his Macbook Pro
today April 29th, 2022
accompanied with Christopher Robin,
Winnie the Pooh, and Eeyore.

Since January thirteenth of this year
(two thousand and twenty two),
yours truly suddenly feels
long in the tooth, i.e. auld,
he whose decrepit body and
gnarled hands ice cold
senility and senescence doled
rigor mortis virtuous vice grip extolled
coronavirus (COVID-19) motherlode
courtesy geomorphology dynamism fold
analogous to discovered vein of mined gold

grim reaper with scythe doth silently infold
(in Old English, scythe spelled siðe)
ore yonder church bell knolled
anonymous beat nickles less,  
dime a dozen, day late
and dollar short sexagenarian
dropped out of Culture Club
(any strong resemblance between said poet
whose Grateful Dead head lolled,
and once living person purely coincidental)
death and decay, I lichen to mold
meself finally nill and void nolde
of unwanted excessive fleshy flab
scant personal possessions outsold
to highest bidder polled.

Dead weatherbeaten and fatigued soul
with absolute zero regret
no longer being alive,
immortality impossible mission to connive,
especially when endurance and stamina
took kamikaze nose dive
formerly earthlinked buzzfeeding
desiccated honeycomb hive

in tandem with former anxiety riddled psyche
need no longer worry
his existence perfect example
how hardship did misthrive
death be not proud penultimate quest
since adolescence (think anorexia nervosa)
he did (unsuccessfully) strive.

At long last... Beatle browed
Beastie Boys attained Nirvana
routing hellish existential crisis
courtesy Earth, Wind And Fire
rendered null and void celibate Journey
knight in shining armor
forever staind and tarnished
compliments verboten extramarital whoopie.

Herewith I forthwith take poetic license
linkedin to long line
of Mamas and the Papas
whose music died
when Passenger(s) violently perished
courtesy flaming inferno
analogous to Le(a)d Zeppelin 129
christened Hindenburg.

Along similar blurred lines
foo fighter manned ****** temple pilot
Jefferson Airplane qua Starship
gracefully and slickly
deliberately maneuvered sic
Crash Test Dummies
immediately annihilated upon impact
smack dab into Puddle Of Mudd,
yet lo and behold as a Foreigner
and Survivor yours truly eluded Dire Straits.

Oz suppose during whirlwind Kansas tour,
while snatching forty winks
in toto working out Kinks,
I experienced revelation
regarding divine creator - Egypt me
never securing life, liberty
and pursuit of happiness
elusive weltanschauung as understanding,

the mysterious Sphinx,
yes essentially zilch joie de vivre
minus high jinks
aptly summarizes mein kampf methinks
my life and hard times
whereby vitriol pelted me
courtesy those rat finks.

Nihilistic zeitgeist
apocalyptic outlook sacrificed
no redemption no matter
how figuratively purposelessness sliced
unlike mum man crucified Jesus Christ.

noticeably decreases in one direction.

I take lock, stock and barrel
to revisit good ole days of yore
quite conscious undeclared state of war
prevails within body electric of troubadour
now seated at his Macbook Pro
another reasonably rhyming poem
I hope to score
signalled by satisfaction
qua eye of the tiger doth roar
today February 18, 2023.

Since January thirteenth of this year
(two thousand and twenty three),
yours truly suddenly feels
long in the tooth (actually
I wear dentures), nevertheless
yours truly languishes within
self made prison and feels auld,
a shy person, who rarely exhibited bold
lack the benefit of powder milk biscuits,
he whose decrepit body and

gnarled hands ice cold
rigor mortis virtuous vice grip extolled
inoculated against coronavirus
(COVID-19) motherlode
staving off silent grim reaper
swinging scythe catching
(in Old English, scythe spelled siðe)
another mortal into his fold
analogous to discovered vein of mined gold
mine lovely bones clutched in deathly hold

ore yonder church bell knolled
anonymous sexagenarian
(any strong resemblance between said poet
whose dead head lolled),
and once living person purely coincidental)
death and decay, I lichen to mold
scant personal possessions outsold
to highest bidder courtesy
subtle nod auctioneer told
across webbed wide wold.

Dead weatherbeaten and fatigued soul
with absolute zero regret
no longer being alive,
especially when endurance and stamina
took kamikaze nose dive
formerly buzzfeeding
desiccated honeycomb hive
where I bumbled along

and learned how to boogie woogie and jive
in tandem with former anxiety riddled psyche
need no longer worry
his existence perfect example
how hardship did misthrive
death be not proud penultimate quest
since adolescence (think anorexia nervosa)
he did (unsuccessfully) strive.

At long last... beastie boy attained nirvana
routing hellish existential crisis
courtesy earth, wind and fire
rendered null and void celibate journey
knight in shining armor
forever staind and tarnished
compliments verboten extramarital whoopie.

Herewith I forthwith take poetic license
linkedin to long line of mamas and the papas
whose music died
when passenger(s) violently perished
courtesy flaming inferno
analogous to Le(a)d Zeppelin 129
christened Hindenburg.

Along similar blurred lines
foo fighter manned ****** temple pilot
Jefferson Airplane qua Starship
gracefully and slickly
deliberately maneuvered crash test dummy
immediately annihilated upon impact
smack dab into puddle of mudd,
yet lo and behold as a foreigner
and survivor yours truly eluded dire straits.

Oz (zee oz born during
baby boom generation)
and suppose during
whirlwind Kansas tour,
while snatching forty winks
in toto working out kinks,
I experienced revelation
regarding divine creator - Egypt me
never securing life, liberty

and pursuit of happiness
elusive weltanschauung as understanding,
the mysterious Sphinx,
yes essentially zilch joie de vivre
minus high jinks
aptly summarizes mein kampf methinks
my life and hard times,
whereby vitriol pelted me
courtesy those rat finks.

Nihilistic zeitgeist
apocalyptic outlook sacrificed
no redemption no matter
kidnapped without ransom
concerning grateful dead heist
how figuratively purposelessness sliced
unlike mum man crucified Jesus Christ.

Ever since mine boyhood
I experienced abhorrence
toward yours truly,
an extremely introverted kid,
whose parents nor siblings
(one younger and older sister) could
not arouse him out of his emotional torpor
akin being on par with
Peter Peter pumpkin eater...
whereby he (meaning
author who wrote this poem)
kept himself isolated, quarantined, and xed out
within self made shell.

Me mum mollycoddled her only son
bathed him in maternal love
omnipotent motherliness
figuratively guillotined
(unwittingly) healthy maturation,
thus development sabotaged
courtesy figurative apron strings.

No matter his filial relationship woeful
(to thee woman who birthed him),
he registered sentimental value
regarding keepsakes bequeathed,
he still keeps cherished mementoes
redolent when she lived.

Call him a mama's happy go lucky boy
whose later ambivalent feelings
tarnished, undermined and vitiated
short lived tender loving care,
which brief vouchsafed cocooned wellbeing
regarding idyllic rapport between parents,
got staind, suppurated, sundered, sullied...
in later years by incrimination
against being gainfully unemployed.

February twenty eighth ninety sixty eight
marked a tectonic seismic shift as moving vans
transported our household freight
to (at that time) R(ural) D(elivery) 2,
Level Road Collegeville, Pennsylvania 19426,
a ramshackle (summer) mansion named Glen Elm
plus whittled down fraction
of original Hundred Acre plus wood.

Relocation with Lower Providence School District,
approximately half dozen mile distance
between former and latter home(s),
nevertheless psyche of mine
property of extremely introverted kid
severely hi-jacked.

Invisible to the naked eye
traumatization (courtesy
chastising and reproaching -
by fellow classmates
and later in life
birth parents and inlaws
dealt hefty figurative jab)
tremendously impacted yours truly
analogous to him moving bajillion miles away
compounded by his withdrawn demeanor

diagnosed when he reached middle adulthood
as schizoid personality disorder,
thus exhibiting obvious developmental delay
bullied courtesy nasty brutes,
who scapegoated and rejoiced
with hip hip hurray,
meanwhile I experienced
terrible psychological melee
escaping to safe confines of bedroom,
where I wanted to stay
for mine remaining years of life.

Retrospective review
now approaching my doddering old age
constituted more'n one cruel (cheap) trick
played on super tramping urchin,
who traipes across virtual global stage
ensnared within whorled webbed wide
spending his hard earned itty bitty wage
spinning one strand after another.