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Brian Buttlicker Feb 2021
I have finally found
The pinnacle
Loneliness without being lonely
I have friends, family
Yet here I am
It ******* kills me
They have their lives
And I have mine
And I can finally draw the line
I was a distraction
Perhaps a distraction
From my own mind

I'm not sure they realize
And I would hate to jeopardize
This illusion
That they see me...
But only my contribution

Today the clock reset
On my personal sign
Showing how many days
It's been since I wanted to die

I know I don't. I know it.
But God ******
I sure wish I could show it

Boundaries
I suppose
Are as useful
As memories

Alone
Is
As
Good
As
We
Perceive

MR
Brian Buttlicker Dec 2020
This is a death march, don't be naive
Worthless shepherd to your little sheep
It seems to me we're all truly blind
Let's all believe neglect is divine

A cold and lonely corpse is all you will leave
What else could you possibly believe
None of us will ever find
A way to fight this cruel timeline

Baffled by what you hope to receive
For if God is real he's left us behind
Or at least he's taken what's mine
And I watch my life in the sieve

Don't let yourself be deceived
What you believe
Betrays your selfish greed and endless need

To get oblivion out of your mind
He is clearly unkind
And laughs to himself as we bleed

Cast away as you cast a line
These misled, pathetic, malign
Faiths of humankind
That have never failed to bind
The mask, the blind

And still we can't see
The evil sewn into his design
Shake my fist to the sky
Beg, plead, pray for ease
And weep quietly, "please"

For all of my want
I've still seen not a lot
And your god that turned his back on you,
And your entire faith
Is ignoring me too

I refuse to accept
My loving creator has crept
Into my heart just to make it seize.
So I scream
And I scream
And I still see no reprieve.

This is my challenge
Which will not be met
To prove my point
Let's commit a sin, let's bet.

If there is a God, then that would mean that this is his plan. If that is truly our creator, then I reject him, and judge him as he would judge me.

Sacrilege. Heresy. Smite me, almighty smiter. I have thrown down the gauntlet. You have no sons, no daughters, no apostles, no martyrs.

You have only slaves. And I will not accept the original tyrant as my saviour. I rail at the notion. Perhaps Lucifer had a point.
If this offends you, I only mean to be honest, and express my frustration at the justifications brought forth by religions that maintain that this is in some way our fault.
Brian Buttlicker Dec 2020
A note. Just a letter
I wish I could have written it better
Maybe even told you myself
But I'll leave it on your shelf:

Anticipation
Delayed gratification
Impatience
For elation

In all my years and all my desires
Everything I've striven for
Groped, struggled and tried
So excited I couldn't sleep
Could think of naught else
For days, weeks, obsessed
With the fruits of success
The reward nearly grasped
Barely out of reach

Ultimately empty, each one
Mostly disappointments, even when won
Culmination of cultivated fires
Disappointments, liars

But those blissful nine months
And the years before, hopeful
When I could speak of naught
And I concentrated my thought

With momma, bless her light
Before she gave up the fight

For you, my darling
For you, my darling

Couldn't have prepared
Never even compared
With you, my darling
With you, my darling

Of all the realized prizes
In arbitrary sizes
The worthless committals
Then I saw you, so little...

Only you, my tiny girl
My angel, my pride
Have truly changed my world
Without you I've died

Sun moon and stars are a drop in the bucket
Next to the picture of you I keep in a locket

Only you, Ella my love
My precious, most important,
Sweet turtledove

P.S.

Sealed in an envelope
Hide it in her hope chest

And when the time comes
Once she lays me to rest

I've written on the outside

"To Ella, with love forever,

Open once daddy has died."
I know that she can't possibly comprehend the magnitude of my love for her, or that literally every action I take is with her in mind. She's just a baby. But when I'm gone, she will know, that right from the start she stole my whole heart.

She will know that if it sounds cheesy it's because putting love into words is like describing music, or explaining beauty. It must be seen, heard, felt, to truly appreciate the significance. Even then it is overwhelming.
Brian Buttlicker Dec 2020
There was a time when I trusted myself
I trusted my conscience
And my mental health
At some point I, unbeknownst to me
Became suspicious of that clarity
I look in the mirror from the corner of my eyes
And if I had the choice I wouldn't believe my lies
Just felt poopy, I guess. Bad days come and go.

Trust between friends and lovers is difficult to mend, but when you break your own trust... I'm not sure you ever trust yourself again.
Brian Buttlicker Dec 2020
Acknowledge my art
For it's the best of me
The only thing actually
That I'd like you to see
Also you'll notice
Hypocrisy
For my art is given
With no apology

If you'll take the time
I'll return the favor
I won't always rhyme
But it always has flavor

If you are, like me, a cynical loon
Please share this with me
And I'll share a tune

Songs that I've written
Songs that I've sung
For you, for me
For any and everyone

The world is winter
And I'm getting cold
It's not getting warmer
And I'm feeling old

Legacy
Relevancy
Decency
Don't you see?

This is my heart
I've put it on a sheet
For this is a death march
Let's not be naive

I'll be remembered for a generation or two
But hopefully loved for more than those few

As the world changes pace
I endure it with grace
At least I can try
Or convincingly lie

The sad truth of it all
Is that what I have to offer
Barely registers
And will never be popular

So I write for me
And I sing for thee


"Thank you!", I say
To my absent audience
And only hear crickets
And it's painfully obvious
Kinda cookie cutter cadence, but this is how it spilled out of my brain, so I'll indulge myself. By the way, I really will send you music if you want to hear some original songs by my friends and I. I don't expect anything in return, and I know I'll never be a rock star, but music must be shared, and who am I to be stingy?
Brian Buttlicker Dec 2020
Recognize your indiscretion, take this lesson
What you threaten
Is my life, I'm guessing
You don't know what would happen
When I stand up speak out and
Mirror your aggression

I'll allow you your holy war
Until it knocks on my door
Then all you've been fighting for
Will be splattered on the floor

You're loud and proud
But you're just a crowd
Push the envelope and pressure
Force my hand to your own detriment

This is not about you
It's about me, what I see
It's about my family
It's about being free
**** your fantasy

I'm not alone
I'm not afraid
I'm coming in hot
Get your graveyard *****

Bring your stick
Since you can't walk quietly
I'll be waiting
I am your enemy

I am the arbiter of the center
See that we are legion
Rethink your challenge
Lest it is accepted
"A wake up call to those who will listen; a warning to those who will not" - Maynard James Keenan
Brian Buttlicker Dec 2020
Verse 1:


Ive walked this road many times before
This time it seems something strange
I took a wrong turn
Did I lose my way
Did I break my compass
Let my distracted mind stray


Hold my thumb up to the sun
Manifest destination
Road rise to meet me
World won't you greet me
For a while will you mirror my smile


Chorus:


Always one more
Means an even score
We can't win for losing
But we losers are doing just fine


We're going to be all right
Awake through the long night
Prepared for winter, we arbiters of center
Never fear one more mile


Verse 2:


Dear lady will you fix me some vittles
My feet are sore and spirit brittle
Sit beside your fire, before I retire
I'll even sing you a tune for a smile


I won't refuse your company
Feel free to lie next to me
But I'm a gentleman
I won't get handsy
Unless it's you that asks me


Bridge:

 

Biding
Building
Patiently
Anxiously
Calmly
Coura­geously
Humbly
Waiting
Distracting
Acting
Exacting
Protecting
Lis­tening
Existing
Persisting
RESISTING


Dear man, may I offer you a hand
Cutting wood and plowing your land
All I ask is a roof to sleep under
And perhaps a bit of warm supper


I notice your daughter is beautiful
Has the lass given her heart away
She's nice to talk to
Rustles up a mean stew
Did mention her comely face
Another song, this one is an Irish jig.
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