The Immortal Melting Man no.4
I visited my lovers grave today
Its been several lifetimes since ive seen her
A woman, among so many other humans, who inspired me to love
Her exuberance for life made me love her
And even next to her grave, weather worn and faded with time, the same sort
Of vibrancy, emanated from the gargoyle i had built to watch over her rest
I was not  in love with this woman
The sacrifice involved with being in love is so wasteful
I loved this woman
The mere fact she was alive, her mannerisms, her physical presence
She made want to love life and find joy in everything in it
As easily as waking up, i loved her
As effortless as winking, i loved her
For a time, my never ending life was synergistic with another, however temporary
But it has been so very very long
Time has robbed me of many things
The color of her eyes, the sound of her voice, the smell of her skin, the warmth of her touch
Her name...
The grave i made for her, is surrounded by so much beauty
Its a place that should inspire me and my memory, or what little remains of it
Among so many of the dead, i return to this spot once a year and stare at the patch of earth that holds my love
And i remember nothing more than the fact that i loved her

The other day i managed to find my old piano
I used to love writing music
Spending hours piecing together a melody that had always existed, i was simply the one writing it down
The ambiance of creation always seemed to waste away the inane presence of time
I would sit in the sun shining through my window
A drink nearby, and a fine cigar
That was many many years ago
The intangible joy that music used to bring me
Used to enthrall me with a vigor for life
As it is now, I can no longer feel music
I can no longer feel music
I am no longer taste the rusting bitter taste of fine ***
Or even mildly enjoy the smoke that sweetly, sickly framed my piano
The instrument had rusted over
Strings, composite woods, porcelain keys
All once pristine and prestigious
Now warped, split, and discolored beyond repair
Although I no longer recognize my instrument in the same way
I know it is there and i know i used to play it
Sadly the memory of music has all but tarnished in my mind
It is simply noise
Sounds arranged in order of severity
I find no solace in music
No relief in drink
And no tranquility in cigars
Feelings such as those are strangers to my life
Faded tarnished and distant
Like a stain of breath on a mirror
I cannot mourn the loss of these pieces of my humanity
For it was inevitable that time would take them from me

I am from
this is an assignment i had to do for my EDEC 250 class
its a poem about where or what im from. i chose a more vague approach. i try not to remember items that brought me to where i am now. but moments and feelings. im actually kind of proud of this.


I am from a blurry past
I am from moving too much
I am from sweltering heat, and bone chilling cold
There is no memory where there should be some
I am from motorcycles, loud noise, and rock music
I am from the justice system and the armed forces
My life has always been loud as hell itself
I am from a nasty divorce
I am from never settling in anywhere I’ve been.
I’m used to feeding on friction and surviving in fire
I am from a long drawn out story that ends horribly
I am from bullies, beatings, and badgering
Peace has never been a friend of mine
I am from sliding along rock bottom
I am from endless hate and cynicism
I am from the roots of pure evil within my own family
Truth be told I’m just a beast with a human heart
I am from finding strength I never knew I had
I am from standing resolute when I should have fallen and rusted away
I am from loyalty and boundless love
The rewards of perseverance far surpass any and all pains this world could curse you with
I am from watching my cold grey heart warm once again
I am from finally seeing how human and fragile I am
I am from Woodland California, where I was born again as a new human being
I am from the country side’s friendly solitude
Greeting me with the gentle arms of the sun
And breezes coolly kissing my neck and head
If I could only tell you exactly how I got here
If I had a dollar for every story I could tell you about my life
I’d have one dollar
I am from the liquor of life
And drink it in gulps

The Immortal Melting Man no. 2
I was witness to a birth
To the child of my last living relative
One final, feeble attempt to keep our withering family tree alive
A birth without marriage
A manic, desperate cling to legacy
So much hope, manifested in brand new life
Although the child itself was beautiful, birth and death have blurred in grandeur to me
All beings return to dust, with or without blessings from their intangible father figure
And this child would be no exception, i thought to myself
Seasons would pass, however many, and the child would grow, and then the man would die
Life and living to me, are as rocks are to the ocean.
Both just words, unyielding just as they are present and unchangeable
And i find it very odd, as the child breathes his first gulp of air and returns it as a squeel of primitive affirmation saying
i am alive; i find it very odd how no one person seems to truly appreciate their life until they are reminded of it
Even as i degrade, i know merciful death will not come for me
I envy the child
Life is a currency, meaningless and monetary
It is a liquor meant only for the mortal and flawed
Life is but one single dollar. Spend it wisely child.

The Immortal Melting Man no. 1
now before we begin. you need some context. i have been trying to not give context to my writing, and just let it be what it is. because i feel as though my writing and my feelings don't always need some kind of explanation. and i also feel as though giving some sort of forbearing warning to readers is mildly insulting. because all people need to be able to identify things, shapes, patterns; in order to....BE. so this of few occasions, i will explain you you what you must know to make this series im writing, make any sort of sense.

The Melting Man is an idea, a figurehead, ive always had to express and compress my creativity. to give the amorphous subjective thing that is my inner mind, an identity. a way for my never ending cynicism and intrinsic hatred for most things without losing my mind.

The Immortal Melting Man is a series i have begun writing in a way to express and share my thoughts. through a melodramatic, over  romanticized fashion. Imagine if you will, a man. ageless, undying, and seemingly untouched by the concept of mortality. his physical being cannot die. but parts of him can no longer sustain the demand put on them by an age far beyond the allowed limits. slowly but surely he is forgetting his many lives, and functions that you and i take for granted (things that make us people filled with life and compassion) are beginning to escape him. so ive written Melting Man in a way that suggests he is no longer human because he cant die, but he is still just flesh and bone. making him sit on the precipice; of god-dum. read on, its my current project. and i will happily share them with you.




I have seen a great many things
I have seen people, entire generations live and die
I have seen the grandest empires thrive and then burn to ashes
I have watched human kind grow so much
I was there as some of the greatest minds in the world were revered and then eventually consumed by time
Once i stumbled upon a wolf mother giving birth to a pup
She died the moment her newborn drew its first breath
Even though i knew i would eventually outlive this creature
I took him in as my own
It was a great many years i spent with my companion
I can still vividly recall the scent of his breath, and the luster of his coat
Though as i expected, he eventually died and i remained
Time is something i have no shortage of
And i am reminded of this each meaningless day
Most all people worry about how many hours remain in the day
They never consider the many facets of life all around them
Selfishness and greed are perhaps the greatest human flaw
Ive seen it burn legacies and empires alike
The Mayans, the Romans, the Ottomans
All grand and powerful
But like all things returned to the curse of time
I no longer know the joy of feeling
In my time of endless living, under the guise of so many different names
I can scarcely remember once good thing about human kind