We sat there drinking baring are souls and cutting through ******* one drink at a time.

I never hung around other writers I wasn't  a people person to begin with.
Silence was its own company .
And a man who could hold court with it and remain sane was stronger than most in a crowded room.

We poured the drinks and spoke of everything aside from the page.
To generals seldom give away secrets to there success or in are case the lack there of it.

Are scars were are own and my friend knew enough that we simply held court and stared  at a woman bent over the jukebox.

Some lines are not written but are simply perfect enough as is.

We sat there till we closed the place down and vanished back to are own worlds .

We were wolves to the hunt all the same and are paths seldom crossed again.

Sometimes you howl into the night and somewhere from the depths the night howls back.

Sometimes its good to know another runs the same as me.

Why do we Hallmark our holidays and fabricate ceremonies?

We guilty non-obligators celebrate all things that can't be true,
forcing smiles in rooms full of elephants yet no one’s a candidate for sainthood.

I tell myself I’ll do better than they did, but doing better than they did
still leaves roles un-played and dreams unfulfilled.

I may understand life from the top to the bottom but I live in the dash between the hair of the dog and last call.

While people without broken bones wander around on crutches,
we who were broken as children walk on feet-less legs,
a trail of pain follows wherever we go.

Its inevitable for us to get stuck between bitterness and agony while all the while we fail to make sense of what it is we're living for.

I don’t want to be celebrated I’d rather be understood, so maybe then the searing heat of loneliness we never speak of might die a slow death.

I only wanted for you what was better than what I had
not knowing that without the bad there is never any good.

Every left hand turn leads to something right eventually
and when we exist for only ourselves the world is not round rather flat and we tend to fall off the edges into pandemonium and unhappiness.

Its not what we have it’s the pursuit that keeps us going but I need to not want in order to feel what I feel.

To sit still is more consuming than any long term project.

When I have it all I have nothing,

an uneasiness with the easiness of stress free living,

a simmering flame of doubt about all that's gone wrong in my life while things that happened 30 years ago feel as fresh as tomorrow.

I read an article today that said the drug ecstasy can take away depression but we all know lots of pills can do that.

The bottom line in all of this, I wish I had a reset button, a restart after false start, a wake up to reality call, I'd throw away the wigs I wear, powder coated cover ups,  and let my hair grow long,

get back to the basics,

maybe start with Bukowski,

celebrate the simple things in life.

As once you saw the man
an illusion of what does stand today.

You cannot fight the tide it will take you away no matter your efforts,
as easily as it did I.

The tide is not there for you to fight
It is in it's nature to devour you whole
What you are missing is your anchor
That very small part of your soul
That piece of you inside the storm
That whispers in the night
I know you are drifting away from me
but I'm strong enough to fight
I'll fight the tide to keep you here
Just bobbing along the shore
I'll fight against the tides of might
So you don't fight no more

I once saw a horse run free
along a lonely stretch of beach
It's hooves continually flicked free
the waters that corralled it's feet

Many sunsets and storms cast dunes
broke are the barriers now
none stand ever so true .

We are all alone from where we view the horses running along the shore.

All this beauty that runs, we are no longer part of this picturesque scene anymore.

I can't bear these thoughts
the pain is too soon
the soul dreams seem an illusion.

We ran till that point from which we began
We became a blur and everything in between.

Much like us, everything
just fell in between the cracks of life and regret, I have tasted it's wine bitter sorrows to be broken in every sense.

All those horses see the truths we so easily mask to ourselves.

Trampled like innocent hearts under hooves.
The foot prints are simply a reminder, running off into that endless sunset .

I know this speaks of goodbye.

And I wish only to be blind to it all
As in love I was once as free as the horses
who in my minds eternal thought
run as freely now as your heart is
Erasing me as the ocean does the imprint left behind.

You know I've always been a fighter .
And even when your on the ropes you still got to think there's a chance.

Many things in this life will attempt to break you.
People ,Disease. , Addiction .
We all fall down sometime .

Never ******* stay down .
I do t give a **** if it hurts .
If it's easy.
If we all can do it .
Then it isn't anything to begin with.

Ive broken my knuckles both my feet.
Destroyed my back and neck and I'm still standing nothing separates men more than the willingness to except defeat.  

I will never say you are better than me even when you are.
Its not ego but if I become your mud puddle to step upon .

What are you when you stand alone but a fool who never met a challenge .

Do not allow this society to mind ****  you into submission.
Far to many settle and get along.

You don't have to like me but you do have to respect I won't take your **** just to stand in your shadow.

I stand in my own spotlight and I suggest you find your own and allow it to shine brightly until your exit.


That's my advice kid.
Call me **** ,Call me a drunk .
Just never forget to call me by my name.

I'm always the hero of my **** as Bukowski would say.

Take it or leave it.
Some good sense from a life lived is far more useful than kissing *** and pretending to be something your not.

Be you and nobody will ever question.

Common sense goes a long way to well intended lies meant to never ruffle a single feather .

Fake pages and fluff writing are alot like toilet paper kid.
Except toilet papers more useful.

Keep your hands up and your head out of anothers ***.
For in life with age and ego you'll have to pull it out your own plenty if times .

             Fin

He was as lonesome as a cemetery.
And far more empty than any barren field.

In your time nobody will recognize your genius till its flame has long since been extinguished.

Nobody sought out to be a legend they simply put one foot in front of the other in hopes just to get through as ****** as me or you.

He never knew exceptance and most thought him a outcast.
That ******* in the mirror was a stranger to even I.

Maybe the moon isn't as full from where you stand tonight across the distance only fools and coyotes know.

Maybe my old vices will do me in as you always said they will.
If it were nothing more than traggic  wouldn't that be something just the same.

I never was meant for a vision you see of better days locked within your head.

I told you goodbye that night as the stars were masked by street lights and the pavement gave little cushion for are demise.

Maybe is a word often used in dreams but im far to awake to care for now.


The luck like the bottle around me is often empty.

I never hid behind dark glasses kid .
And I know you will learn to forget with time.

I never was meant for the sunset guess I will simply have to fade with the night instead.

Maybe you will recall me later in life .

Something tells me you can't love a lie no matter its intention.

And nothing understands the truth like the night passed .

Maybe .

The venom shared from the pillow held witness by the dark.
Can this embrace be cancer to us both?
Are the words hollow as so is the bullet just as dangerous in a lovers hand.

All will be forgiven one day when the hate has been washed clean and all truths tattered beyond reality.

Did we go beyond the path somewhere deeper than are first intention.
A ocean may drown as easy as the silence between us.

Nothing knows better than the night .
And her tears shed were simply a casting calls allure .
Smoke rings to the celling to vanish and linger all the same.

I am memory.

The worst poison of them all.
Killing with time and good intentions.

Nobody has a answer .