I've been awake
since five A.M.
I went to bed
at three.
And I can't decide,
if I want her,
or a bottle of whiskey.

I wear on my wrist,
A simple copper band.
Among my many bracelets,
Few understand.
So very few left to understand,
This band tells me stories.
It whispers tales of blood and of death.
Tales of luck and life and,
Brotherhood.
And of bravery.
This simple copper band,
Tells me of tales known,
And unknown.
And the few who know
Know.
Of the tales told,
By my
Simple
Copper
Band.

I dreamt that I slept,
in a field full of sunshine,
near a creek that flowed slowly,
where the wind gently blew.

And I woke with a stretch,
and a sigh and a yawn
and I saw a lost angel,
with eyes, bright as jewels.

Her lips were like velvet,
her skin soft as silk
and she spoke with soft grace
her words like glass, smooth.

Well I reached for my angel,
and, this dream fell apart.
The scenery faded,
for dreamers are fools.

Never had I witnessed yin and yang,
in more tangible form.
One came in like a fire *******!
A bright flash and a bang you couldn't help but enjoy.
Then with a passion,
she'd gush in obvious pride
over the delicately crafted treasures before her.
The other blew in like the wind,
soft and mellow.
With an easy voice she spoke of her craft,
as if only natural,
a person could weave wire in such intricacy.
It was a beautiful equilibrium to behold
and something I'll always hold onto.

Be kind,
For at least once in your life the kindness you show, will make a monumental difference, for whom you showed it to.
Be flexible,
The tides of life will twist and turn you many ways, you must bend with them.
Be soft,
many will tell you only a thick skin will get you through, but it is only with soft hands that you can nurture broken hearts.
Be patient,
a short fuse will only put you in a deep hole.
And perhaps,
Most importantly,
Be open minded,
so that you will never hold back any of the above, because of what you think, but don't know.

I’ve wandered ‘round,
From home to home.
And found one truth,
All stones erode.
Whether wind, or rain or steel pick-axe,
All stones erode,
It’s just a fact.
So when I lay, for my final rest
I have to say I think it’s best.
Forgo a stone, that will not last.
But plant a tree, Oak, Fir or Ash!
For as time passes, and memories go,
All stones erode, but the tree will grow.

Sometimes,
I wish I could quit.
The drinking,
the smoking,
the maybe-too-frequent drug use.
I know I'm just chasing the high I got,
from you.
But you're gone and not coming back.
"A man's gotta do,
What a man's gotta do."
At least that's what they tell me.

I told him,
"I know a thing or two,
about a thing or two."
He loved the essence of the phrase.
Than he told me a story,
I'll surmise it with,
"Then the cop said,
there'll be no *******  subs tonight!"
Maybe it's too cryptic to understand,
but it was an even exchange.

We can break bread or stand and make threats.
Man we can grab the cannons, blast and face death.
When this is all over you'll have half a face left.
For the rest of your life with a limp, you'll take steps.
I could end this rhyme right now and save breathe,
but I haven't said all I've got to say yet.
You ain't a killer you a dog, now just go and play fetch.
You a coward and a liar Fido, run off and play dead.
The wolves'll ******* find you we don't often stay penned;
all the **** you've been talking will see you pay debts.
You won't find time to scream "mama this is the end!"
When I get my hands on you and open your head.

Another night alone,
another empty bottle and
another ****** poem.
Another pack of cigarettes,
another finished bowl.
Another way to deal with it,
another line of blow.

I was once asked
"where is home,
if not your house?"
My heart wanted to say
"wherever there is love,
and trust, brother."
My brain urged otherwise,
and so my response was only
"wherever you lay your head,
that night"

A rare night indeed,
when I find my whole world aflame,
with the light of life
and of love.
All the more noticeable
for my exit from the shadows.
All the more appreciated
for a life spent in the dark.

Goodbyes seem like a waste of time,
at moments such as this.
We'll meet again around the bend;
I'm almost sure of it.
If you don't believe me,
take a look at all the facts.
It's gone like this now all day long,
and yesterday at that!
I'd say it's best we walk away,
with a smile and with ease.
You'll find me floating down the road,
or see me strolling through the trees.

We will NOT,
destroy this planet.
Long after the human race,
has dissolved into nothingness,
our earth shall remain.
We will however,
most assuredly destroy ourselves.
We will cloud the air,
we will poison the water,
we will soil the land.
In our arrogance,
we will destroy ourselves,
but not
this planet.

In the name of my fathers,
I will sow havoc and destruction,
upon all who dare attempt squander my freedom.
I will rain a flaming hell,
on any who would see my brothers harmed.
My enemies will learn to fear my wrath,
as they would the very anger of GOD,
himself.
All that defy my righteous hand shall fall before my fury.
And they shall know,
the face of death.

They never did,
Get it right.
The wiring inside my head.
Some switches flip far to quickly,
Some it seems,
Not at all.
I've come to accept it though.
I can't exactly get in there,
And I've never been much,
Of an electrician.
But hey!
That wiring is me.

Stop desperately grasping,
for a life of pure happiness.
Is that all you really want?
Just joy and rainbows?
Sunshine everyday?
Because if so,
I've gotta break it to you,
that is not life, brother.
Life is loving and fighting.
Life is old men who cry alone,
And
Life is drinking whiskey with your feet up,
in the woods.
Happiness will come!
But so will the rest.
So sit down,
stop ******* whining,
and embrace all of it.
You might just come out the other side contented.
You will though definitely,
have lived.

Words, once set to open air,
Gain weight.
Like boulders they can roll
from your mouth down a
slippery ***** of destruction to
eventually settle heavily on the shoulders
of innocent individuals, the weight of which
often proving too much for their
fragilely constructed foundations to support.
Like a gun,
keep the safety on what you speak,
Don't point hateful words,
at anything you love,
unless you intend to **** it.
Because more deadly than any
lead based projectile what you say
will leave your mouth like
a tomahawk missile loaded with
a poisonous and corrosive payload
capable of entering a persons soul and eating it up
from the inside out.
They'll tell you your whole life,
"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."
Perhaps more people would heed this warning,
If they said,
"Your words are a thermonuclear bomb capable of disintegrating
egos quicker than Fat Man did Nagasaki, the lasting effects of which may resonate through time in a cataclysmic downward spiral you could not possibly begin to imagine, so be careful."

At least without you, I can be my ******* self.

She was a Black Rose.
A beautiful rarity,
and the essence of despair,
all at once.

I am emphatically flawed.
I will make mistakes,
I'll be distant and difficult.
Things will rarely if ever,
be "perfect."
But I will always come back to you,
with a sad smile and soft voice,
and the most heartfelt of apologies.

On occasion I will be incredulous.
I'll question your actions,
and your motive.
I'll **** near border on paranoia.
But I'm easily proven wrong,
it won't take much to re-build my confidence.

I may very likely disappear,
from time to time.
I'm an enigmatic rambler,
and a vagabond.
I won't often buy you roses.
But I will show up after days in the wilderness,
with a heart full of love,
and a whiskey bottle stuffed full of wildflowers...

I opened the door this afternoon,
stepped onto the porch.
Greeted by a bleak and cold wind,
I lit a cigarette.
There I stood looking up at a dead sky,
shades of grey that smother the sun.
Thoughts growing dark,
in kind.
Out of this void there rose,
a melody.
Simple.
Tranquil.
"God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman"
Played as though it was just for me.
And as the church bells rang on their somber tune
I thought,
"Perhaps, it's not all so bad."

I preach peace and reason while I'm loading my guns.

You're pulling mountains out of anthills,
every pebble in your path
becomes a boulder.
And you're far from being any kind,
of lost or wayward soldier.
All the love that you have leeched,
you emphatically squander it.
And there is no "Great Weight" upon your shoulders.
That's just gravity *******,
don't over ponder it.

For those who've seen,
or worse yet shaken,
Deaths' hand leaves, but little trace.
Unharmed they seem,
don't be mistaken,
Death scars all, who've seen his face.
They fail to sleep,
from nightmares waken,
Death holds strong, in his embrace.
At night they'll weep,
all peace forsaken.
Death befouls, who've met his gaze.

I watched,
as the stars in your eyes,
dwindled.
One by one,
they burned out into emptiness.
The void consumed our universe.

I felt,
as the warmth in your touch,
turned to stone.
With every stroke,
you left frost upon my skin.
Your ice soon circulated through my veins.

I listened,
as the music in your voice,
withered toward
detachment.
Every word became a reminder.

And I tasted,
as all the sugar on your lips
and the honey on your tongue,
went sour.
Every kiss held hints of decay.

It's easy to say,
You're a "good" father.
Much harder yet,
To prove it.
Mine,
Mine never failed.
**** a mailman,
Rain, sleet or snow?
Drive one hundred and fifty miles,
With the flu,
And talk to me of loyalty,
Of dedication.

I lay waste to hope,
wherever I find it.
I drag it into the light,
revealing all the little flaws,
in it's design.
I set fire to happiness,
with fervor.
I love to watch,
as people's joyful little worlds,
are rendered unto ash.
For every act of human kindness,
I'll see a thousand homes destroyed.
I'll leave ten thousand quaking people,
to be consumed,
by hells most vile lords.
All shall come to know my face.
All shall come to know my name,
Despair.

I'll show you all the cracks,
in your feeble facade.
Just shortly before I see it erased,
with psychological grenades.
Don't you know?
I've got x-ray eyes,
They see into your heart
and find the skeletons you hide.
I don't require knives to see you filleted,
I'll verbally split your middle,
expose your doubts and your shames.
I'll flush out every fallacy,
stop the production.
My words and my mind will see your destruction.

Hate man, it soaks to the bone,
leaves you eatin' animosity, every night, alone.
And I know, it can be an easy thing to harbor
but brother understand, it only makes the heart harder.
A slow burn, just like the end of a cigarette,
sometimes it's easier to cling than it is to forget.
That's why I highly advise you breathe easy,
cruise on through it like fluid, smooth in movement.
And my brother please let your wrath fly freely,
Never aim it like a gun waitin' for you to **** and shoot it.
I recognize, life leaves you searchin' for answers you can't find,
,but it's better to let go than to poison your own mind.
I hope you listen to this message I'm sendin'
and try to get a grasp on the lesson I'm stressin'.

I don't know what it's like,
to rise above it all.
Only, the feeling in your gut,
when one begins to fall.
And I couldn't speak a word,
on peace, serenity.
But I can tell a thousand tales,
of woe and misery.
If the gutter held a vote,
the king, would I be crowned.
So tell me things are looking up,
I'll show you the way down.

I know I'm just a stranger,
shouting blindly to the dark.
But I will see this message sent,
it comes straight from the heart.
If suicide's consumed your mind,
the "only" option left to you.
Drop me just a couple lines,
what more have you to lose?
I've seen some malice in this world,
I've felt ridiculed and shunned.
I know how attractive it can be,
hell, I've even picked the gun.
So lend me just a moment,
in the least you'll know you're heard.
Maybe with a little luck,
I'll lend some clarity through word.

Drown it in whiskey,
smother it in cigarettes,
rather end it quickly
then have to live and die
with my regrets.
embracing death and
misery my innocence is
history
to me the truth
is a mystery
find life lackin
in symmetry
I hope the wronged
have forgiven me
will not tip toe
to it gingerly
just skip right to the inquiry
should I end it all now
or bring in the artillery?

Do not disturb,
the dog that slumbers.
Make the blunder,
be torn asunder.
Lightning strikes before the thunder.
You'll still feel it from six feet under.
And all you love,
will not recover.
From their son,
who forever slumbers.

Darling,
I'm hardly a man of impeccable character.
And lets be honest,
some of the **** I'm known to do
has probably put some doubt in you.
Yes,
I'm a drunk and I'm ******* reckless,
and, my words have never failed to cut deep,
when I feel I'm tested.
But give me a chance and you'll quickly come to learn,
I'm also a man of daring and I am a man of my word.
Yea,
occasionally I'm lacking in moral fortitude
and empathy's a feeling that I'm genuinely foreign to.
Truly though, take my hand
and I promise I will love the very ground on which you stand.
I'm fairly far from flawless, I've got some vices I adore.
Just put a little faith in me, I promise, I'll love you more.

I think I know,
the pain that must have come,
while fighting and dying in battles of old.
Solely from the ache in my heart.
I like to imagine,
you shoved a spear right through,
or split it's center with an axe,
cleaving it, in two.
But no,
you did more than just halve it.
You stuck the knife in,
gave it a savage twist.
Tore that wretched pump to pieces,
and then you spit,
on it.
So now I wander,
a wounded man,
no place left called home.
The only thing I'd known as such,
was the land on which you roamed.

I'm the final forlorn scribe
of this desolate wasteland.
Imbibing putrid wine,
I keep a flask in my waistband.
Nothing strangles hope
like being living in dead lands;
alone I trod the globe
inscribing lines about deaths' hands.
The blatant lack of birdsong
has viciously twisted the sunrise.
Persistent existence with ghosts
has afflicted my rhymes.
They say you reap what you sow
I'm bound to ramble for miles,
scribblin dismally written scriptures
that'll scramble your **** mind.

We are everything.
Every man, woman, child,
every living thing that ever put forth energy on this earth.
You are the culmination of millions of years of energy,
being recycled.
I like to believe this is why some of us feel we know things,
or people,
that we have no logical reason to.
The energies converged,
at least once.
And though dispersed and reformed,
into something new,
the resonance remains.
This is why I do not believe we ever go forward alone,
into the dark.
Energy will always flow onward,
companionship is therefore not only inside you,
but beside you.
Tangible or not you are followed,
and filled with,
the energy of a million lives that have been,
and will be.
Keep doing.
Keep being.
Keep flowing.

Do her eyes still change,
to slate grey in anger?
Do they still turn to blue when it rains,
and when she cries?
I always tried to tell her,
those demons would hang her.
"You're just bound and determined,
to decline til you die."

From a high pass in the Adirondacks,
I once gazed upon
the first tendrils of dawn,
bursting forth from hills beyond
to snake their way through
a rolling forest.
Setting it ablaze
with a magnificent rainbow of color.
Finally settling upon a small lake,
far below.
And as I watched the sun
breathe warm life into this beautiful,
secluded landscape
I thought
"She was far more alluring,
than the wonder I behold before me,
but,
At least this is a memory,
I can keep."

I used to be a regular guy
got a little too drunk from time to time.
Generally, I think I was considered respectable,
at one point perhaps even socially acceptable.
However, all things must change,
even at a fast pace,
now I'm nightly downin bottles of bourbon to the face.
And it's scary, just how real it gets
I'm losing all attempts at eloquence
the second that this whiskey hits.
Nah forget it,
Just like Eve eatin the apple forbidden,
I'm livin in original sin and I dig it.
I'll keep fillin my lungs with filth and killin my kidneys
because I could give a **** if I live to see fifty

Every night I drink,
while trying not to think,
about all the opportunities I have blown.
Then I smoke a pipe,
contemplating life,
while I listen to the winter winds that drone.
By the time I hit the nicotine,
I'm feeling fairly libertine,
Certain notions get to flowing like the Rhone.
I'm sick of this existence,
the image gets persistent,
I think it's time I put a bullet in my dome.

I'm drunk on Rebellion bourbon,
and I can't help but think,
what a ******* brand name man!
Coming from a cynical, sadistic,
sometimes near maniacal *******,
That's the kinda **** I wanna hear.
Start the rebellion!
******* A right I will.
I'll down this bottle and go off into the night,
my teeth sharpened
and a razor under my tongue.
A bottle full of gasoline,
a pocket full of matches.
I'll set fire to the village,
and watch as the fire dances.
Burn mother *******!
Then I'll hit the bar,
the next town over...
Continuing my little mission,
I haphazardly target victims,
Then incinerate 'em with powerful words,
If I fail to defile minds I'm setting teeth to curb.
Eventually the police will show,
too late.
I've already slipped out the backdoor
and skipped town.
Confident that I can start a riot before I pass out.
I figure eventually on me these crimes they'll try to pin it.
I'll sit back uncommonly calm and tell 'em the bourbon did it.

They say,
old habits die hard.
Don't I know it.
I put down the bottle for a while,
picked it back up.
Older now, more refined.
Bourbon,
instead of the cheap rot gut,
of my youth.
It all kills you in the end.
Still can't go out in public.
Teeth grinding,
Who's the enemy?
Who's the snake in this crowd?
Do I have my weapon?
Constantly clutching leather bound steel,
haven't needed the blade,
in a long time,
but must always be ready.
Marlb menthols,
pack a day, at least.
Smoke one to take the edge off,
there's always an edge.
Serial monogamist,
constantly striving for love,
hopeless romantic.
Hopelessly falling for women so venomous,
they could teach vipers,
a thing or two.
Picked up
a couple new ones but,
the old habits die hard

Sometimes,
all you need is strong drink,
and a couple good friends,
to part the clouds.
All that drunken truth,
spilled so sloppily,
it can lighten the heart.
Lift the weight from shoulders,
even release a little guilt.
Yea,
life's mostly misery perpetuated,
but little moments like this,
make it worth the while.

Love is often lost
and more than often it's mishandled.
For me I think I've finally seen
the entire plan dismantled.
I've given it a go and man,
it always ends in shambles.
Too much emotion both get broken
what I've taken's more than ample.
I've given up at least for now,
I just can't afford to take the gamble.

Oh, I've been low brother,
lower than you know.
I think I've sold my soul.
I will apologize,
for all the evil I commit.
But in the end it won't mean ****.

Times are hard brother,
we share the same despair.
Just know I'm always there.
When the moment comes,
I'll show you all that I have learned.
Try not to be concerned.

When I'm gone brother,
I hope my memory will be kept.
It's all that I have left.
You'll carry on brother,
I promise you can take the pain.
You know it's all the same.

Man, we are an ugly,
broken,
people, aren't we?
We formed a society that abhors following ones' own desires.
A society that demands participation!
Or expiration...
We turn ourselves,
into necrotic sacks of flesh.
Motion after motion,
waiting on death.
**** it,
*******,
**** me.
**** everything man.
Our demise is inevitable.
The clocks been ticking for a millennia,
no one's watching.
Tick-tock,
tick-tock.
The world stops turning,
and we burn.

I'm trying to fill a cavernous gap within my heart.
I think it's leaking from the bottom; I was finished from the start.
Liquor and cigarettes just slip out between the gaps.
I keep on trying but the effort's insufficient in comparison to what I lack.

I'll carry onward I'm a man and I know my roll,
but I'm running out of fire, I'm alone and it's getting cold.
I'll keep on drinking and smoking, pathetic attempt to fill the space;
But I'm not going anywhere, feels like I'm running in place.

Maybe the whiskey kills me, I think that'd be just fine.
Either way the cigarettes will kick in after time.
I know I could use a little help in filling up the holes,
but everybody dies alone; at least that's what I'm told.