Every person in this world is a story unto themselves.
Blank pages with such captivating eye's I have seen.
And  in the reflections of other's.
They always feel there alone amongst fellow freaks we hide are true voices washed clean by tides of ******* and ego's set sail.

I'm a  viewer to them all a invisible force given voice in moments forgotten in time.
Why linger in your thoughts my dear I have long since abandoned my own I need not share anything as long as were speaking honest tonight.

Maybe we will feed this urge maybe we will just part as strangers cast of stone set blurred in vision are course different yet oddly the same.

Can you feel it dying with the magic that is night lets feel are warmth together simply live for a moment for there is nothing more tonight.

I wont give you all but I will give you what you need .
I peddle the words simply as a drug and you my buyer are nothing more I loath the fantasy so let's enjoy a **** in reality for a change.

The road the vice your flesh and my want is all that feeds this moment make it nothing else don't dabble in delusion for truth is always pain.
**** the lights as music like a cigars smoke does add a essence of moment to this room.

Why beg for answers when we can write are own truths, Take what you will from this for I grasp emptiness and thrive from it's cold.
Lovers of nothing just two fools killing  time .

I view it all a passenger charmed in the conversation that never will be.
I will never cater to the audience for the viewer that matters is only the stranger that has become me

Hey it"s been awhile how ya doin like I care.
Writting little bits of misery isnt my style.
Drinking till dawn writting low brow poems is something
I do with such great flare.


John Patrick  you know the rest.
Never got a degree but i got something else.
more than a few times incase you havent guessed.

Turn off the lights i'll just use my hands to see.
Yes im way worse in person.
But ya know it just aint a party without me.

Were theres gasoline so should  there be fire.
Far from a saint.
But I have dated a couple girls who once sang in the choir.

You may won the contest but I really didnt lose.
cause you gotta ribbon and me  I gotta bottle of *****.

Guess who never paid attention in class?
I was to busy staring at the teachers.
Uhh miss hotness could i please have the hall pass.

Wonder what slowed us down  uhh probaly
when we hit that tree.
You know my friends it just isnt a party without me.

Hey folks they dont all have to be deep meaingful  im not nicknamed  gonzo for  nothing  cheers  my friends

The road behind still seemed more tempting  than the wasteland of hollow thoughts and
empty dreams that lay outside my hotel room window.
I'd long since given up on having anything known as a comfort zone.

Still although it was hours since we landed still my thoughts rambled like some child as he sits listening to a trains whistle on a long dark night.

My fellow shadows had long since learned a private room was better than a front row seat to
my often insanity spun sideshow of late nights and bitter rants.
It was me and my thoughts a plague of my own creation  in full swing and obsecure few
a stiff drink and some good pills kept the thoughts at bay for the moment.

We found areselves in the city of Angels but  it reaked more of devils torment and wicked excess.
Hookers cheap *** and some overpriced drugs.
The blood of dreams covered the streets and old starts of the fames lure slept next to the broken and homeless.

Why had I ever came here was it ego?
Or just a good time to flaunt in the face of all thoose caught in the gears of
the day to day grind.

This land of empty thoughts  and cursed remakes there was nothing creative bout this scene kids  just give your neck to the vampire and pray he yerns for a taste.
Maybe you'll be one in the few or just another hideline.
Fallen star found dead outside some overpriced nightclub.

Me I was here for a gig and nothing more .
To provide some laughs between drinks i had no illusions of fame.
To me I looked in the crystal ball and just saw another cheap snow globe
of nothing more than candy coated lies.

This wasnt my scene it wasnt anyones scene just a playground gone
wrong a wasteland of bad ideas and hollow thoughts.
That made Vegas seem like a good idea at the time.

Neon lights and lost thoughts haunt the hours spent like some
silent witness to a future crime scene and a redlight work of art.

And as I recalled the nights show I tried to forget the faces from behind the lights
that seemed broken by some plastic surgeons *******.
Give me women with flaws and unsculpted fools.
Perfect people can have this place that seemed more like a gateway to
a delusion cast hell than screen print paradise.

Course many would paint it diffrent if they held the brush but I wasnt
much of a painter to begin with.
And as tommorow loomed with the smog I packed my suitcase thinking.
If we could just drown half the suits and give it to the miscast freaks
pretending to be superheros for tourist pics what a ****** up
theme park we'd have then.

A few hits and alotta drinks later we were gone and there was no question
If we had left a empression.
Only a ****** of a much higher degree would wanna leave anything there.
Except maybe a pipe bomb in a suits office bleeding some old franchise
for every drop it was worth.

No my friends the rearview wasnt looked in often.
What did you think of it?
My fellow traveler  asked as we counted potholes and passed the bottle

Well it sure wasnt Kansas my friend.
What the ***** in Kansas?
Anything but this ******* place amigo.

The last outlaws of Hello  had rode long and hard.
And after leaving the brothel finally hit the road.
Wild Turkey feuled ****** Amigo stop touching my ****.
Dear lord man how many times can we listen to lady gaga

Get your minds outta the gutter really just who
do ya think your reading?
I dont write **** like VK rowling or Miya Angelou  or was
her last name Cyrus anyways who in the state of Hannah Montana
gives a **** anyways?

Just over the border we finally landed in the land
of masked wrestlers hostoric sights
yes who doesnt like a donkey show?

The cantina hot as usal my amigo looking around
confussed like a young  Ricky Martin  befor
the rockstar life of menudo ****** him all up.

Drinks flowed music played  dam macdonalds was great down here.
well cept for the clown who wore his red nose in  a diffrent place
bad touch kids.
Least my uncle was fitting in here lord help his boyscout troup.
camping in uncle Ronnys bed taught you a lotta things
like never to sleep on your stomach.

But enough with the foreplay children.
We were on a mission.
But not one from the big guy.
Although im not much on worship
besides  Bill Gates was a tool anyhow.

We spent the night drinking dancing not togather
that is.  Although Jack was a great kisser
but enough about are fishing trips
Gary was already jelouse as it was.

It was great fun till the dam hangover kicked in
it hurt so dam bad it was like Justin Bieber had
caught me asleep and ***** my ear like his mother
had sold his soul so she wouldnt have to work.

The pounding in my head,the drunken Brit in the sambero
Bouncing up and down on the bed singing paparazzi
but enough bout Goldie were the hell was Jack?

And who the hell killed the ****** and put her  
in the bathtub?
Jesus fargone Phil must have been here
no wonder I was missing a kidney thoose naughty Brits get me every time.


After diposing of the body thoose blind kids
will have fun with that pinyatta.

I was off leaving no stone or  whiskey bottle or brothel unturned.
I interogated so many senoritas.
Finally I figured I should ask where Jack was.

Finally after a good session with a older woman
the sixteen year old finally gave it up.
And then I remembred to ask the question how much?
Im kidding I asked that way befor the umm interogation.

******* the tatoo from fantasy island sounding woman replied.
Lord woman no time for a puppet show im not uncle Ronny.
No senior *******.
Lord dear woman  what you didnt get to watch the muppet show as a kid or something?

Finally ****** the starnge sounding woman blurted out.
Look ******* Jack's off he left with some weird little guy earlier.
they took a plane.

All a sudden from the sky I herd a sputtering
noise and like a bald eagle  who had a affair with a unclean vulture.
Im just saying.
It emerged from the coulds a small plane  the door flew open
Jack appeared with another man why was it yes it was Eliot.

Why you ***** ***** you!
Ouch **** miss I was talking to Jack.
Oh my bad senior but you desserve that just for writting
this ****.
everyones a critic.

Seems my amigo was taking Eliot sky diving dam great way to bound.
well it was cept thoose Brits seem to not use parachutes
but hey you really cant feel much with them on anyways.

Eliot like a well.
Like a guy threw from a plane screamed  worse
than a teenage girl  at a Jonas Brothers Concert
Hey my wife wanted to go okay.
Thank God the house broke his fall.

There lay Eliot crying like Tiger Woods after
his divorce hearing.
No worries my friend  I called a ambalance.
Three hours later the horse and bugee finally pulled up to
the hospital.

Im joking it wasnt a horse it was a donkey
And it would have been sooner if it wasnt busy
being Mr show bueisness.

Later at the bar.

Gonzo and Jack  sat with there full body cast friend Eliot
sipping drinks telling stories.
Wondering why we were ******* fire.

Gonzo no wonder you love it here
what part of Mexico are we in?
Dear lord man were in mexico?
Seems my friend was a bit confussed
but then again after reading this you probaly
are two  untill next time kids  greetings from
New Jersey.

Stay Crazy Gonzo

Poison was the taste so wicked the pleasures shared my dear .
You were the best poison sampled  in a nocturnal desire all is dead .
Let the pain bring the  pleasures of guilt a tattered memory of my most wicked design.

When flesh is your vice will you not drown in the darkest waters as I have so easily drown within you.?

Her  love was a fix.
Her passion reeked of ****** and I fell victim as so many other's before.
**** me in pains plessure to erase my regrets she begged of me from the confines of a  already empty bed.

Nothing to fill the void.
May are darkness be shared my little girl .
Why can't you see the games never revolved around you but merely absorbed you as all the rest.

If only we understood the pains pleasure maybe as strangers we could **** as we do the ones best kept secret within hates plain sight.
I am the edge of the most evil design.
Poison your kiss and forever it lingers to this fool's thirst.

Have are  secrets simply grown into a existence all there own?
Carve are pleasures I see its passion deeply within your eyes
Tonight was a regret tomorrow a forgotten tune left to die as my soul apart.

Do we question are likes or simply take them as fools and allow them to fade?
My demon need's no slumber within my nightmares existence .
Sweetheart did you dig only to find a little fractured side of yourself?

Are lives are toxic I loved the pain you so easily did embrace as of leftover conquests sweat smells of truths we ourselves can no longer embrace .

The door is closed as the belt around your neck.
We together are poisons pleasure how tragic this night with others we did waste.

As misery always seems to embrace only regret.

The summers love was a harsh winters heartbreak as
the rain came crashing down as I watched thoose tail light's fade.
No words reflect  the pain  that as men were told to ignore.

The lable faded as the feelings inside.
It was gone without reason.
Making as much sense as it's start.

A funeral for one  spiders create  the webs
casting shadows apon the sun.

The void filled with pain addictions touch where you never did.
Empty as two in heart.
A losser in grace shakes  in the open.
Only to display my weakness  in utter isolation.

Outside the storm builds pushing others away.
Jokes fill conversation.
Laughs keep away the worried looks.

Wasted I feel the warmth  of happiness  thats so
far from all im not.
Lines  leading down a road apon a mirror
I close my eyes only to imagine  how it does reflect.

Her body warm.
her eyes as vacant  as the room in which i exist.
Taking  comfort in a action  losing all with sweet release.

Fire cant exist in icy  water's of a fractured soul.
The moment was a series of traggic events
that forges  a mind twisted like steel

Death was a wish when you can no longer taste life.
The addicts logic can never overpower the junkies mind.
Roads that seem distant are only seconds away.

That person a stranger whos return.
Is a threat and Id welcome his destructive return.
In the fog you feel nothing.
As the lost  never seem to understand.

I know the secrets to the  citys  slum.
A blood spattred  canvas of eternal blue.
Dim lit nightmares    a yerning for a end to
a favorite memory  that never was you.

I see the world so traggic tainted
underneath dark glasses so very clear.
A drifted soul  is but a leaf apon the ocean.

Driven by winds heading somewhere with no direction.
Just one of the many   nights  outcast.
Many truths no the  power of a lie.
Sunrise comes to fast and the bottle
wont be a lasting friend.

In thoose moments alone we see how togather
we truley never are.
Hold your secrets close as lovers.
tangled and so perfectly ******* up as yourself.

And wake in the bliss of  are addictions
Love the flaws and forget the dreams from which
we soon wake.

In old worn-out lines we gather to collect dust phased only by our recollections of what never was meant to be.
I have come to terms with the emptiness that resides within us all.
Hollowed out is the shell is but a point.
It's standing merely a display.

Weathered hands broken egos have we all not felt the burn and then been left cold by yet another winters rain?
Old songs over bridges of memory some more weathered than others.

Deception leads to bitterness thoughts merely plague my reality.
Loneliness leads to weakness but I haven't found a better route yet.

The wolves howl hauntingly in the distance is my thoughts bleed trapped within this prison of reflection.
I'm far from over but don't let the rest of the ******* know that.

The reader is but a viewer to another man's soul, lurking within the confines of safety and warmth.
True depth is experienced never read.

Sometimes we all fall down my friends.

From the boardwalk I cast a view from weather beaten rail.
To ocean erased shore.
In a vision of two lovers often we can't recall.

A time's past in a more forward view.
Im at the end.
A chairs stance and a rope's hold to neck.

Smoke ring's the night's in my failures I've bled my sorrow's
dry.

Saltwater  from eye's a overview from a scrapbook's
hell.
This prison I created harbour's my wall's of minds design.

Like a beggar most choose to ignore.

I wish if only you to care without touch but of spark.
And mother natures soul.

Sand of glass frayed the edges of a weathertorn manuscript
of what never was.

Let me die in memories eternal embrace.
No hand outstreched.
Rejection of existance so often home I've come
to reconize as this  place.

Tonight like any other you won't say goodnight.
I won't tell the truth and you won't dare to ask.

The message will be lost behind the laugh and I will just bury myself with yet another illusion.

Truth is simple people are not.

We somehow missed the point and connected just a little to late .

Crossed lines burned at the edges.
You can't plan life it just happens.

And the worst fools never allow themselves to know if it was anything worth a **** to begin with.

We can't live never knowing in fear of falling flat upon are faces.
It seems the closer you become the further the delusion grows .

It is sad what a person can mask in fear .

Another night passed .
Eventually there won't be a second chance .

The radio glows filling the
darkness with phantoms I call
old friends.

They gather to haunt my thoughts
along with you.
And I recall that dance so long ago.
It's become a fine wine Id rather
admire than taste again.

As that look I remember so very well.
We erase the parts that get in the way
of are dellusion filled spell.

The leaves change only to fall
apon ***** streets.
Where others trace thoose same steps
as you and I.

And in the darkness I remember.
as a heartbroke soul's voice calls
through the night.

As shadows  dance and the whiskey
glimmers within the glass.
She's there but a ghost within my lap
her chill brings warmth.

That memorie calls to me as the bottle
is better admired than cracked.
It's passion contained  for another.

Life does fade apon the gleam
of a blade.
Candles are better for birthdays
and little kids cakes.

Fire is shared between two in a kiss.
Reflection mixes well on just another
night like this.

The streets frozen in temperature my soul soaked in bourbon as  I drift a drunk looking simply to get home and crash out simply to do
it all over again.

The music is the silence only footsteps keep me company and no other need be my shadow .

Spirts of fire are often dulled together sweetheart I will be just fine I said in my exit from the bar .


The streetlights and that Christmas tinged on full  display I drift past stores closed as vacant in windows view as my thoughts as the bums

try not freeze upon the benches I know this existence in sadness and think **** thank to hell it's not me.

Simply move on two ghost's haunted the same and no need to explain the rest,


It's here I am home in these empty streets here I grasp it all .

Maybe it's a drunkards melancholy thought a romancing of the page to fulfill the emptiness in me .


I know this night like any other sometimes when the mix of ***** and ******* hits me just right

I truly understand the man that once was me .


Goodnight my friends.

I sat there lost in that strange magic the music the scene perfect in its semi empty smoke cast brillance .

We were all lost together .
Jack you still writing ?
Tommy asked from behind the bar.

Well I'm still breathing so i suppose so my friend .

Tommy just laughed grabbed the bottle poured me another .

Dont worry Jack this ones on the house .

Oh to what do i owe the honor or do you know something i dont know Tom.

Just figured you needed one besides its valentines day you old ******* and seems as though your Valentine is missing.

Yeah couldnt afford her and i think her dance cards all full that and she seems to prefer someone with a bigger box of chocolates.

Maybe you should of tried flowers and champagne.
Yeah and maybe i should of tried being something besides a drunk writer to **** Tom .
Why try when you can pay

I  know your girl Jack your to ruff on her she's not a ***** .
No your right she doesnt charge .
And a real ones much more honest.

Tommy and some other stranger i forget his name laughed.
Man your nuts .

**** your seeing him on a slow night you should see him when he's really cranked up.

Richard at the pool table behind us said between shots of a solo game.

Tommy pour me another .
Jesus Jack you finished that one already you know this isnt a race.

Yeah i know but maybe its just the love in the air I have no idea just pour me another make it a double.

Just then that heavy steel door slammed into the wall the couple was happy laughing well untill he noticed me and and told the woman who was supposed to be at work.

That awkward oh **** look in her eyes .
Tommy I shouted a round for valentines day on the ***** with my favorite street walker .

Jack calm down or I'm going to have to ask leave .

They both walked to the bar once giving how I had already set the mood i had to give them a nod for having the ***** to not just turn tail and run.

I stood up hey pal names Jack I can see we have some things in common like ****** taste in women .

Jack we'll just leave i didnt know you'd be here im sorry.
Yeah a writer in a bar bet you would **** yourself to find a nun in church

Hey pal want to take my seat being you seem to like things that belong to me hell want the keys to my car .

******* your nothing but a drunk .
Lets get the hell out of here Susan.
Maybe its best you all leave for tonight Tommy said .

No no Tommy I think i will leave hey buddy i didnt catch your name .
Oh wait i forgot i dont give a **** .

She stood between us I only hoped he'd swing giving me reason to knock the pure **** out of him .

But It wasnt over her I had long learned you couldnt waste a ounce of concern on another who only cared for themself.

Susan was lost in herself a confussed misreble fool.
Who could never find another who loved her as much as she loved herself.

I laughed in his face he showed his fear i knew soon as i was gone he would inflate his chest play the badass.

I never played a role .
Well Tommy and my fellow drunkards i bid you farewell .

And to the fool and the lady please allow me to set the mood .
And at that very moment i cut the biggest **** you ever herd .

The room busted up in laughter .
I breathed it in oh Tommy my friend it seems loves in the air.

Yeah Jack smells more like **** .
Yes kinda like love my boy .

Your disgusting Susan said ****** i had made everyone laugh taking the attention from her for once .

Who said romance was dead.

I kept the room laughing as I sang  memories all alone in the moonlight letting a burp out inbetween.

The door slammed behind me.
And as always i was myself not the character

Never allow them to see past the curtan.

Stay crazy.

Gonz

Embers of my change glimmer within nights breath.
To bask in the flaws my dear we have nothing but endless hours.
Short as in a razor gleams bare were your thoughts cloaked in the
nothingness of my soon departure.

Wicked is she was a poison I would forever embrace.
Are we but mortal in coil so sinful my design.
Ruff she lingered for that which was a bruise .
Fond were the memories cast with sugar laced regret.  

Break my desires allow my insecurities demise.
**** the flesh only to tarnish the soul.
My hells have seeped within forecast of shadows and a premature demise.

Pulled in pleasure a lash of release .
Do we find a part missing keys lost unlock doors never known to are
existence will you embrace the farewell as I already have my dear?

I'll give you the fires without the signals taste the rage without the pain.
Storms have bounded what never was together to begin with.  

Nights ride a clash of bodies finds us a fragment of lovers now frozen
are thoughts as burnt are those hidden desires.

Tomorrow means nothing as page left empty needs only your
words to create.
Tomorrow knows nothing but what we have made of tonight .

Sometimes you gotta get lost to find the emptyness of the true soul.
Bury thoose memories  to unearth old truths.
Cut the ties only to return to thoose past relations.

Ive seen the streets erase the picture only to relive the past.
Living ghosts a backdrop eternal.
I cant question thoose night's regrets like a blanket keep me warm
on a  humid night.
When all is wrong why cant anything be right.

I'd never  curse you utter truths into your lies.
Tainted encounters in many ever changing rooms.
Neon lit dream's  sunset of my mind salt water taste the
bitterness we love.

The mountain's veiw is empty and cold.
Have we lost the the spark.
Iced over thoughts leave only shallow promises
to hold.

So I'll push you away only to hold the memory dear.
A coward  to live in the pressent.
A living ghost of the man  who once stood here.

I've lost track gone so far from all that ive known.
Sparks in the darkness.
Only illusion  paint's the reallity sanity grace me life
once more.
I question has it vanished with my time?

I had become what most yearn for.
Anyone can want what they truly do not understand .

You never know you like something until you finally get a taste for what it truly is .

My plate is full these days .
Every line has a direction and it becomes more mechanical by the second.

People laugh at me less .
Some envy .

Fools often hate what they themselves could never do.

They think what I forged in fire somehow was handed from the Heavens.

The tattered edges now refined .
It took a toxic environment and a lust for its release.

I didn't cheat my self indulgence .
But I **** sure scammed myself about happiness.

I worked for this plain and simple.


I stayed around till I had proven a fluke is one thing I wasn't.

If your waiting for a encore .
You have to let me finish first .

In words I can embrace you only to destroy all in flesh.
Are torments shared often compare are we not flawed my dear in love and charmed in life?

My monster of ego knows no weakness except the tears of your eyes I'm so sorry for the man I've become from demons I've cast we couldn't bare the flame yet in this dead of winter may we know are warmth.

Those eyes that I've seen fade now spring still my hearts wraith are the nights now colder alone or is my emptiness to much to bare?
Scars I have traced upon the flesh never mend that of this emotional drain you are that which I can never be .

You know the man not the image and I see through the past to what's of a bitter sweet embrace we have stood as enemies and loved as immortals.
A sunsets reprise often is the deepest sadness for in pain I see the beauty so few ever cared to know.

I am a villain to most and simply John to you.
Are roads cant be imagined yet I never would cast aside the wreckage for another to replace .

We understand what so few could ever fathom.
Together we are addicts of the abyss sometimes you realize the darkness brings far more comfort than the light .

I whisper to you in this night gentle for only you to hear.

Little girl do you grasp all that I can never say in words?

To most I am a monster but to you I am only John.

webcam video DrGonzo125

Yes youtube  will never be the same
cheers   my semi sober friends and stay crazy.

Look me up if you dare   ahahahahaah

Heres the link folks sorry for my madness

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ANs4H5gWQ20

I dream of the summers apon a distant shore.
Visions of a paint by number life.
And old friends  I seldom  think of anymore.

In my mind I live in a world that does not exist.
As the smoke flows off into a night here I stand .
Dreams so endless apon my command .

Trying to mask my feeling's underneath a smile.
Another drink   cements the mask for only
a little while.

Ive tasted passion kept warm in sin.
Kept sweet secrets  acted as only friends.
Torment does linger from all ive kept locked within.

She can  be with him but is no stranger to me.
trapped in a game.
The soul slowley breaks of what can never be.

The clown must wash away the face paint
every night to so his sanity can remain.
That vessel haunts these sheets.
Calmness on the  cusp of a  life insane.

Im a madman to the  blind eye to this world
im forced to exist  to which to many give in.
My mind roams free.
As my soul  and true voice stays locked within.

She yerned for more as the traces shown clear.
Yet another always seems to follow the last in the fire that leaves you numb.
And in that lost emotion is when she yerns for it most and the flesh is but a vessel left to bargain.

Track mark tragedy in a clear junkies view.
Pushed in vein taken from time often we exist only to fade from light.
The beauty now a trainwreck of what could no longer be.

In *** she travels from self only to drown in thought.
Maybe this time just for the fix.
Soiled thoughts the picture never paints a suicides face.

A addict was created a scar is past.
Futures dim lit regression ****** left in shadows still remain.

That feeling none can explain for how is it to understand death in lifes last thought?
Two lips togather leaves one ina dope sick splendor to thrive.
In the depths of a adiction is when to me love is least alive.

She ask's for more blood does glisten from arm.
It's gone a liars need must reply.
Why fade when you can catch a fix slumbed lifeless in a stall.

In the shadows we consume the shallow means to still linger.
touch of gold a dust of reapers skelton finger.

She cries to as a empty soul filled in a addicts thought.
Will it fade in sadness a broken thought is but a dreams half *** reprize.

Life and cigarettes burn to fast.
We waste are time.
So within the moment you bask.

A pretty face has to age.
Every story meets  it's final page.
When life breaks you over its cost.
Then you'll sing a lullaby to the lost.

The lights in the street hide all but the truth my
dear.
You can act.
But you can never mask your  fear.

In dark rooms you sell all but your soul.
A wicked moment a stolen encounter.
All things take there toll.

That sweet face has tuirned hard your so warm
to be cold.
A secret that the bitter have already told.

Can you wash away there stench as from
the past you are tossed.
In dark corners blood stained angles
sing a lullaby  to the lost.

Is this hell or a nightmare  that knows no end.
A cell to most.
To others the only refuge inwhich they
can depend.

she falls to the floor a lost look needle  
in arm.
Most will rememeber a doomed fool.
Others her wreckless charm.

She was  a ******  and a easy lay.
More bones are broken.
Over words others say.

She sold flesh but payed the ultimate
cost.
In a dingy corner of th world.
Were the angles sing a lullaby to the lost.

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 .

Rain cant wash a twisted soul clean.
Miles still leave me nowhere bound.
In words I found a home now vacant in thought.

Even the best slip to the worst places over time.

Days are becoming a blur as nights waste my thoughts.
Speaking of things that are beyond a goal
in a long winded , lossers scrapbook of bitter end's.

Will they notice what I will never understand.
Ernest saw  it first your sea was becoming yet a
shallow pond of misery.

And that same old thought eats away the mind like
a cancer.

Caught in the fade do the lights burn brightest?
Or will drunks just pour thoughts like whiskey
into the glass.

Im there now.
Dying in dreams only to exist
in past stories of new chances.

The what if's are ******* kids.
No matter the road you choose.
Never regret a second.

She takes my money and ses yeah ***** thats the way
it"s gonna  be.
Took her friends out bought the bar a round and
charged it to me.

Got some brass knuckles  she wears  around her
neck.
wears ten different Engagement rings.
I have to say I belive she love more  than
just me i do suspect.

She dosent care how I am.
She's just wants to know what I got.
Kicked my *** and lit fire to my dog.
God mean chicks are hot.

She couldnt  make are wedding  cause she
was to busy ridding with the hell's angles.
Came back with some new tattoo's hair
all in tangles.

Told me this is the way it's gonna be.
At  well over six foot.
It's pretty funny getting bullyied by a spitfire
Standing in heels at five foot three.

Slept with my sister and taught my grandma  
how to smoke  ***.
I shoukld get ******.
but mean chicks are just so dam hot.

Spun from tracks a one way Outlook seldom lends to a bright vision  escape.
I've come to grips with the losing side counted hours borrowed change.
Where it all ends at sunset even beautiful is simply a passing moment all too soon forgotten.

A needles sting in long sense forgotten fire, cleansed of existence and newly paved highway lent to a dead-end mindset may the ******* glorify this moment!
For shallow truths seem to vanish in contemporary romance of addiction.

A window seated view to the trains derailment is a one way trip not worth the mention?
Embers of the spark have long since become outcast of the fire.
Tonight I only need to connect in the worst way possible, can you spare a moment only to cast it in regret?

Art is easy life is not the page simply an afterthought of our existence.
Never cast in stone what would never take to mold to begin with.
I never linger on others mistakes for I have far too many flaws of my own.

To head off the rails is not to find solace in the legend, merely a side effect of life lived by the sword.
We glorify the mistakes of others only to forget our own.
The cast judgment and yet another bitter pill.
How very tired of become of the scene.

Maybe we embrace chaos only to chase some semblance of distorted peace.
Maybe there was really no plan at all to begin with.
We are the after effects of the wreckage left to be viewed far better than we truly ever were.

A snowfalls mirage hides only with season, nothing shall stay buried forever.
Captured a image and hold it closely .
Say hello to delusion for me art was never intended to be safe.

Off the rails was it's direction there is no glamour in an untimely fade.
The intentions are always pure just somehow everything gets ****** up in the end.
Remember it as you like.

I had locked away my true thoughts and muzzled my true voice
for far to long.
Was it a character i desired to be?
Were my words to be but a joke to break the awkward silence?

When you start to be social only to lock yourself up
to exist with your demons your becoming a dangerous
person to yourself.

My work once flowed now it sits half finished  great starts
stalled endings.
My skills were learned from not the comic arena
and i could imagine my journalist friends  laughter mocking
me even now.

He's slipped  finally lost in cheap jokes  gone from
anything that speak's of his true voice.

The people didnt thirst to know John.
for my well penned alter ego was the one they all knew and so blindly
misunderstood.

Old friends check in.
Messages on my phone i'd sooner erase than
respond to.
Had I slipped in some form of insanity?
Embracing dellusion  to mask my failures in life?

I was a writer ,A troublemaker  and owner of laughs.
A good time for many yet emptyness was my reallity.

As from  the TV screen reflected change and madness.
For crazy is a close friend of chaos.

I got in the game to make a mark but what was the price?
A destroyed marriage  a relationship  heading into
the very same direction.

What had I become but some twisted monster
and tormented soul.
A sad afterthought  to a sick joke.

Deppresion can  make us into something no mirror can truely
reflect.
The chamber stayed loaded  the glass my curse
seldom these days full.

And what she wanted I could never give  like sunsets
red cast gold flaked embrace i was a moment.
And moment's can't forever last.

No child should know a madman's life.
And a selfish *******  I knew was my role.

Empty streets and smokey old bars  were my  path
and what to anyone could i truley give?

Pain was the fuel hours my sea to sail alone.

The chamber was full but soon one would
be missing.

A tale cant be read untill it's finshed.
We are but moments.
And moments can't last forever.

Tired of the same old scenes around here.
Thought hey im gonna explore space.
Introduce Little space dudes to bad habbits
nudie mags and maybe share a beer.

Yeah it'll take some getting use to
anti gravity bars.
Pack up the whiskey and of course the kids
honey cause were moving to mars.

People kinda look at me like my
mind did slip.
just cause im going round collecting cans.
Hell with what else are ya supposed use to
build a spaceship.

I made a few changes it runs of corn whiskey
instead of rocket fuel.
You might think im crazy.
but when my home made rocket takes off
it'll be cool.

Say goodbye kids to your ***** grandfather Bert.
Hey darlin from up here I can see down your shirt.

It's three seconds to lift off people
ya might wanna move your houses as well as cars.
Cause lord knows whats gonna happen.
in my attempt to move to mars.

Its time for lift off crap honey do ya mind lighting
fuse.
Hey kids after this maybe we'll get a reality
show.
I mean if we dont die  that would only make the local
news.

The homade rocket ship rattle and shook.
I knew i forgot something I mean it's a minor thing.
Steering wheels are overrated guess I should have got a book.

And as it lifted off into the sky.
I screamed like a little girl.
I forgot I was affraid to fly.

Yes I kinda fell short on my quest to the stars.
cause i crash landed in New Jersy.
Well kids sorry but Atlantic City is probaly
a bit more fun for daddy that is.
So much for moving to Mars.

Dear Mr first name only somethings ya do dont really
make sense.
But even a drunk like me has to say it's enough.
Cause my drunk *** cant even stand let alone  strattle a fence.

Points was  the first straw  my invisable friend.
To make ten comments for a point.
Well i got far better things to do with my weekend.

And one night as from the bar i did crawl.
Thought i was just drunk off my ***.
But dam if ya didnt take down the wall.

But it's okay cause if ya wanna be on the list
you can always buy a place.
Ya know your dealing with poets right?
Hey some kid just took his parents credit card
and stole my place.

Mr Elliot  should i stay silent in fear.
It's hard to shut a good drunk up.
Was it you that put that horse head in my bed
and drank all my beer?

And while certin people gave us the name
they gave my foggy mind a idea to.
If ya keep us going at each other  then
that keeps us fom going after you.

Mr Elliot  please dont  read this and
make me dissapear.
For I'll take refuge  in my pub.
hide behind the women  and gaurd the rear.

Yes im the ressident ******* and clown.
The bartender to the masses.
Who preaches drink up and get down.

If it aint broke Mr Elliot lets **** with it till   it  is.
Let me hand ya a beer.
Shake it up good and watch it fizz.

Hello I hope this isnt goodbye.
Cause it just aint  much fun without Gonzo.
Im a drunk a *** a nut a pervert and a pretty nice guy.

Dear Mr Elliot sending me away wasnt  very nice.
When i think vacation  I think sun and sand.
Not the north pole  hey were the ***** santa?
Well  least for my drinks i got pleanty of ice.

I sat there before the man puzzled in a loss for words now I finally understood how most people dealing with me felt for a change.
So what do you think?

The man asked with a gleeful look in his eye minus the ****** gay *** musical covers of once kickass music .
Looking at the cover of what was supposed to be my master work A Cold Beer Beats A Warm Heart yes a shameless self plug really if that's the lowest you believe I have sunk in life I feel sorry for you.

I viewed the cover looking for a nice rational response to my publisher let's call him **** for brains ******* I wish would die!
And you thought I hated the like button.

It ******* ****'s **** amigo.
What ? ,Are team spent hours designing this it's catchy and edgy
it screams you .

I knew this man without a doubt was on far better drugs than I had ever tried in my life once told me one thing.
I really needed to figure out where this guy  hid his drug's.

Okay what don't you like about it?
Duh who wants a picture of Leonardo Dicaprio  on there cover of there book.

What? The man looked at me stunned then looked at the cover again
that acid must really be kicking in for he kept doing this several times before finally breaking his odd silence.

It's a picture of a water bottle next to some swiss cheese .
Duh ******* I said in a respectful manner like I said who wants a picture of that ****** bag Leonardo Dacaprio on there cover .

What the hell are you talking about this cover is brilliant we have been working like almost  one whole day to put this together  now what's the ******* problem with it?

The publisher said this to me in his outside voice and being it was indoors it led me to believe the stuff he was on was wearing off .
I had to try another approach I had to  get down to his level and this couldn't be achieved with any store bought whiskey so I broke out
my trusty mason jar and took a big hit of some good corn whiskey.

After finally catching my breath and when my vision slightly returned I broke my silence.

Look my friend it's simple when selling a book with my name on it
the reader expects a few simple thing's
One bad taste and bad spelling.
Two long writes of total ******* with lots of mentions of ******* .

And most important a cover with some hot half naked  strippers duh
what doesn't say poetry like hookers ?

Okay and your point is this strange man who signed me to a contract
yet thought for some reason the crazy **** I spoke of was simply a act.

My point is you can't put a picture of Leonardo Dicaprio on my book.

It's not a picture of him it's a water bottle next to some swiss cheese .

Shh I told this delusional man, far worse than myself .

I motioned him to lean closer and in a whisper I said what about the curse?

What ******* curse he said once again in much to loud of a voice I swear this man was far harder to train then one of my barley legal girlfriends  course I didn't have my whip or coyotes I'm kidding I don't have any coyotes what do I seem like Lily Mae ?

Look sir everyone knows  about the Dicaprio .
The what ?, Are you ******* insane  ?
Well yes but that's not the point here sir by the way what's that sent your wearing?

Oh it's axe do you  like it's broke back swallow lighting.
No actually I was going to ask had you ran over a skunk or a French *****  .

We rambled on a bit and after couple of hit's from Mr Gonzo's  family recipe.
Then just to drag this ****** out we spoke about how axe body spray is great if you want to smell like a French ***** not that I know any but hey message me I'm always here cause I have no life .

But enough with the foreplay children.

I told my ever so high and drunken pain in the **** friend the legend of the Dicaprio and how if you said his name four time's in the mirror after the fourth time he would appear  and then take you hostage while torturing you with the cruelest act possible .

Making you watch all his boring *** movies while jerking him off on the couch till you were bored to death.

Oh my God ! ,The publisher responded in terror !
We have to stop this book from getting in the hands of young people everywhere !

The publisher knowing just how serious this matter was called the publishing house slash back room in a Atlanta **** theater .

But it was to late the books had already been sent out .

And soon something far worse than a zombie outbreak would take hold of the world one city at a time .
Dear Lord what had I created ?

It all started off so innocent just like a **** movie with script really does anyone care to have art direction in there ****?
Some little hamster would buy the book in some bargain rack thinking why is that ****** bag Leonardo on the cover ?

Then they would show it to a friend the book I mean whatever they do in there private life is up to them I'm not judging but if there hot chicks send me a pic or two I'm just saying throw a dog a bone  .

But then the two hamsters would always mention hey have you ever Dicaprioed?  
And as always that heartless ******* would strike again dam you James Cameron  what did you unleash upon this earth.

I would go in hiding in shame for my creation of course I still spent my royalty checks on hookers ***** and *******  but although I seemed happy inside I was hurting .
Duh I'm kidding  hell anyone dumb enough to summon the dark lord of boring *** movies gets what they deserve.

My publisher would hang himself well I can always wish .

And as all ten of my devoted fans scratched there heads as to why is there a pic of a ****** bag on the cover .

The answer was simple .

Cause publishers are stupid and more high than I could ever be so
don't sign **** kids or you to will be driven into the depths of further madness much like yours truly .

Stay crazy.

Gonzo

You lurk in chat rooms talkin
bout what you'd like to do.
All naked accept for a captian's hat.
Ya know after hello it's probaly
not best to ask do you wanna *****.

Mr pervert do you enjoy.
Taking trips to mexico maybe to take in a
show.
Getting beat with a wire hanger
being called a bad boy.

Were ya born with a ***** loose?
Did uncle Charlie get to friendly
and papa John slip something in your juice?

Do you really like farm hand dot com
thats just wrong.
No Mr pervert I dont wanna see pics of you
covered in oil wearing a thong.

And im really not into what ya can fit
up your ***.
Glad to know what happend to that goon
at the back of the class.

No you cant have my number.
Okay your a woodman.
Please I really dont need any pics of
your lumber.

No I dont wanna wrestle in the dark you freak.
Yes im happy you enjoy being beat every
other day of the week.

You really need some help.
Yes I think to catch a preditor would be a
great show for you to make a appearence.
No I dont wanna play airlane.
so ***** your clearence.

Please why cant that connection to
your basement just go out.
Guess what your doing now.
Well to be honest I know without a single
doubt.

I can imagine what its like to be you.
well ***** that cause theres some ****
so freaky even I wont do.

So when ya see that name appear
on the screen it's probaly best to ignor.
I mean unless your really into hanging out
with a lathred up nut who eats outta
a dog dish apon the floor.

I was flipping through the channels
and to no suprize what did I see.
why dateline with Chris Hanson and
Mr pervert on my t.v.

I had to laugh at  every word said.
Gooodbye Mr pervert.
Didnt take a geinus  to figure out
you were ****** up in the head.

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 stared off into the distance a stranger to all including himself.
Often when men stand apon that ledge there is little to be said befor the leap.
We all joked poured drinks and passed beer's paying little are no true attention
like the word we mocked we were ******* far from friends.

I saw the thought and spoke nothing I cant stop a trainwrweck  yet i can always get a good view.
He knew like a sappy western sundown would bring death  in a lost stance.
Even with a slight buzz I always saw the view of destruction in a writer reason with poetic sense.

I gotta go there was no soundtrack to warn no ******* follows traggedy
only seconds were left a hourglass count began silent to drunks and in honest
verse none would care.

He handed me his last beer and without question I knew goodbye was not a question.
The chapter had been written.
dark clouds didnt set the canvas to what would happen are laughter matched the light of a early summers embrace.

The sirens i'll always remember the the sirens a invite to a choas coated scene.
The others only looked in that puzzled deer in the headlights moment.
Doc  as we knew him had left the party  drove a mile down the road  
and turned a relaxing friday evening to a day spoke about in often twisted truth.

What had caused it?
A woman as simple as that a fight over a married woman and between the
two neither was her husban.

At the scene it was a sureal event  a fight had broke out Donald  laid
face down in the yard a blood spattred bloated lawn ornament from hell.
And in the truck the man I knew as friend in only names sense lay slumpped over the wheel.

It's a strange thing to absord in one's mind movies are just ****** up lies.
And the source of this chaos went unscathed.
And like any small town it would be talk of every conversation.

And like a snowball from a fragment it turned into a story that held no truth.
And with time it was forgotten replaced by gossip's ever turning wheel.
All had forgotten but I never have for it replays like some ****** up theater act within my thoughts.

Yeah i hate that ******* id love to scatter his brains across the the floor.
the ******* of anger seldom faces the reallity's of truth.
Whats behind the dark glasses is  more than foder for a barooms laughter.

More truths are in jokes than a simple conversation.
Ive viewed the trainwreck often in my life.
But this is just one view into many of my life's backpages.

I often hide behind laughter.
And shield my reallitys to mask what none should understand.
You were more than a memory sorry I never did more.

Most forgot but I never have.

       Dedicated to Russel Bishop.

My crowd  isnt the kind  who  would think of as upscale.
But there the kind  that might call ya at four in the morning
askin could ya post bail.

Yeah they may not be driving  the latest overpriced sports car.
But it's easy to find there soon to be clunkers.
Cause there always parked outside the local bar.

They'll  take there lunch at the *******.
Instead  of that country club fair.
To hell with the back swing.
Cause that dancer at the table's got a hell of a pair.

And the opera isnt are thing.
But dam if we dont get loud.
So happy being messed up welcome  to my crowd.

I say love thy neighbor   just dont get caught.
We didnt spend are summers in the hamptons.
Puff puff pass was some of the lessons we were taught.

Whiskey beer  and other accesories i spent most my
life with my head in a cannabis laced cloud.
Hey I might seem like rehab material to you.
But im just a ordinary fella  in my crowd.

The cards have been played jokers once wild were part of a strangers fate.
The sudden ends promise seemed a fitting end to a sad play.
As in love were pawns to a changing emotion as restless as
the wind that blows off the sea.

Monster's my dear exist even within me.
Addiction has taken passion I can no longer love as in the page.
Suicide take's the person as in thoughts i'll blur the image.

I'll write the end only to erase my past.
Will they understand?
My solution was a bitter end and a finale  and retreat.

Anger doesnt understand the endless rage.
Empty thoughts from the shallow page.
Ive seen it clear apon a night cast with my demons fog.

The edge is past reallity will splatter me in a lifeless pile.
Madness greet's the creative mind.
As sanity clings like a mother to
her son waitting for the war.

Ive long over stayed my welcome now I embrace
the finale chapter.
The candle's flame was ment only to consume.
The moths will second to it's nature.

A burst of flame then a slow fade into the ash apon the floor.
Empty eyes of a child hearts never  stay broken.
We understood the play as traggic befor the closing act.

laughter my card a gift ive left in your heart.
Erased from sight I question the desire.
The edge wasnt there untill it was past.
Seems some were never ment to last.

The darkness can embrace the page a silk sheet of verbal perfection .
Empty streets and   bars cast shadows that cling in mind like some ship long sailed from port.
Why must they see the end and never fight it's truth ?

We find so little compassion a snow storms emotion has left this summer night
vacant as the motels sign.
Drift for a second with me and i'll show you nothing but flawed perfection in return.

Cats in the garbage winos hold court in the parks distant to the .
The child never should know.
Poets speak in smoke filled rooms of nothing more than a broken souls frustration and second
avenue's  false shine a glass charm and a freakshow diamond the ***** a true friend in
times all to often I need.

Whats your sport the streetwalker asks me in such a pure jaded sense.
wash me  pilot hands are clean but thoughts seem to stain walls of the union mission
I love its true sense of decay .

Jack are you still on the road or just lost in big Sur?
Bob can they ever decode the message or just set free in the paint you cast as words?
Poets fools profits and second street saints I feel comfort in madness  for
sanity's annoying plea just takes up my time.

Are we nothing more than junkies?
Slave to page and the veiw's no matter how blind they may be.
A  drunkard  , A clown, And a welcome stranger in many a lost souls view.
Charles I can understand your humor in the utter sense of ***** it all and the crued beauthy i reconize so very well.

And a whiskey laced brother kindred spirts seem to go better with southern bourban to
wash it all down.

Now sweetheart im not saying im any good but im always a goodtime.
We have to be ******* to be anything at all.
They all knew as so do I.

Heros gone were never heros at all.
Im the last of my kind hundred proof deadly with a **** eating grin.
Only through others eyes are we truely seen .
So I ask how's your view?

Admire many only to realize your lost in ego's storm.
Few understand and even less care.
Im always here till im truley gone.

Stay crazy friends and remember it's not to be admired.
For heros always must fall.
A breeze in the summers burning heat like many others.
I'll only leave a soon to be taken vacant seat.

Dear Hello  

A dark cloud  has been allowed to loom over us for to long.
And for all of you who  have fell victem  to this overgrown
child of a cyber bully I am truley sorry,

Now  with that said  I throw down the challenge to
the one we do not speak of   my numbers are many
my pub is full  the whiskey is free and the message is simple
I will no longer take crap from a certin sweetheart from hell.

Who fianlly posted work and proved my point.
If it wasnt for the hipe she created there would be
nothing even remotley special   about her snore infested work.

Point blank its you our me and this site is not
big enough for the both of us.
If you are what people truley want here then i will gladly leave.

You could have went to poetry soup  but in all truth you wouldnt have made a ripple in the water the only reason you have is cause people react to your *******.

Half of your so called fans are actully you.
you want to cross me i'll out you everytime.
Cause a person who  enjoys huting others  is a punk.

And a old *** woman who goes around talking ****
cause she's so insecure   about her own work.
Well is just pathetic and people who applaud the garbage
that comes outta your mouth are either you or
just as ****** up as you.

You do not hand out  criticism  your a heckler.
Poetry is self expression and to be honest with people
takes courage but to simply say utter crap.
shows your ignorance and lack of respect
for anyone.

Not everyone you bash is a adult  so I ask you
this.
Being a mother yourself would you want
a grown adult verbally attacking your kids?

Your playing a character i am guilty of that also
but i do not hurt others in doing so.
Had you came here posted your work
offred constructive  critcism  you would have done
fine  here  I could care less  if you hate me.

Cause  good or bad Im not a person who hides.
I will not complain behind your back im talking directly to you.
drop  the act drop the hate.
If you do id never speak another word against you.

I will say one thing that was wrong of me.
I should not have revealed the fact  of who you
truley are for you are so insecure you must hide
yourself  from everyone.

I do not hide  and I do not spread hatred.
It's simple the people should speak not fear
we should have a vote  me or you who stays and who goes.

Because  if  your actions are what people want.
then I dont want  to be part of this.

It's fine not to like everyone  cause it's clear
me and you are just two diffrent kinds of people.
You speak about your high profile job  well
if you were so busy then you wouldnt have
time to waste on us lesser beings.

To me  I would like to hear your real voice.
Not the villan act for if that is who you truley
are you a sad human being.

So people of hello I ask are you going to tollerate  
the constant attacks  is that what you want?
Is that what you want a poetry web site to be?

You let one of these people stay soon the river will
become a stagnate pond.
Hate does not  breed creativity it breeds ignorance.

So I ask what do you want this site to become?

Never listen to the praise it's a poison that will drive your work to cater to the mundane.
Rejection is good but if you are going to be made of glass you picked the wrong path .
There is never a right way simply your own.

Ignore those voices that question everything take off the brakes and go full throttle for it's better to burn bright for a short time than to waste away a sad parody of your true self.

I'm no expert just another ***** at the keys typing away his life drink in hand killing the moments till there's nothing left but dust and memories for which stories will be cast .

The page is all that matters nothing more .

I have sacrificed all and I dam sure am not stopping till I die .
It's never a choice for the true writer .
I never viewed the road and saw many directions for me it was a straight ******* line since day one.

I may be a ******* to some but I will always be what most can never grasp.
True to myself .

No regrets ,No remorse .

I have tasted the pavement far to many times my words are like scars they carry a weight I cannot deny.

The faces always change yet my goal has never changed.
To make that page bleed to my will .

There's no easy way to get anything in this life worth a dam.
Likes are a ******* joke popularity his for high school has-been's emptiness is the truth of this road friends are few and rejections many.

If you choose to take this road all I can say it's one ruff ******* ride.
But if you are truly a writer there's no choice it's just the way it is .

No regrets and no ******* remorse!

I think at early age i saw the truth and its harsh light.
The dreamer was a sweet idea  the  reallity  a cold *******.
The poets to weak often found comfort in there vices.

The  washed up often found a finale page in there brains being splattred  across the room.
And the wise often found themselves wanting foolish
things.

Love it was a word often used and seldom felt.
It was that  fix down  Church street   it was a score for a moment a regret at best.

Love i hate it's existance it was the mirage that I saw in a cool nights fog
It called me once and killed me slowley one bad choice at a time.

Im not saying the young couple in passion is a time bomb  waitting to
turn into a  disaster at any second.
Im just saying it wouldnt catch me in it's aftermath.

The washed up thought it made them immortal.
The dreamers thought of it as air.
And the wise were to busy avoiding it at all cost's.

But the broken saw it as paper sailboat  caught in a storms drain.
I remeber her well.

Partys for couples new lovers and just friends.
Music to fill the night the streets of New york
breath life to old flames keeping even jaded souls warm.

The lonley gather round the TV.
sharing a glimpse at something we all yern to have.
And from the up high the streets seem magic tonight.

the soudtrack of the night will echo
into are hungover minds with a painful yet happy reminder
of last nights celebration.

Late night lovers will smile and go there awkward ways.
So many acts in so many different plays.
creeping back to are corners in lastnights suit and tie.
Tight little black dress kiss worn lips
acting happier than two kids ragged in need of a shave
you with hair in a mess.

And for friends that gather to relive not so real
past glory.
The pages are left to the writter.
To add to lastnights not so original story.

As the barflys gather to battle another unsober day.
I watch this first new day anew.
Take a sip from my flask and thank the lord
for one more year with you.

And tonight I say to you all raise that glass.
kiss that stranger you know so well.
Laugh love and live.
And thank whomever ya choose weve made it through another
year to tell.

The road behind bares us a backdrop, too many nights find us fractured in our thoughts and the dreamers we once were are far from the two people who stand today.

We're broken, mere splinters of our shipwreck past, driftwood on a shore that drowns every time the ocean breathes.
The path is littered with slaughtered dreams that didn't bleed.

As time and tide wait for no man shall we find it a tragic scene?
simply erased with the sunsets demise?
No one gets away without a scar and mine speak a road map to chaos
and a found hello to you.

Mine own scars are fingertips
gouged into the sand and faded
but salted by tears of the ocean, inerasable by the tide.
A soul washed up upon the shore, a road map etched delicately into fine bones.
You can trace where I'd been before. All roads lead to your hello.

In broken lines and have uttered phrases and one too many empty night.
Backdrop of chaos does paint in the darkest colors you could ever imagine .

How does it gets so flawed by our own creations and vices my dear?
Does it still ring ever so true?

The bell rings true whispering distant voices
Empty nights are just bottles lined up as dead soldiers
We contemplated our own truths and fell victim to our own vices
The backdrop is black, no colour beneath skin.
Honestly? Where does our downfall begin?

Two ships underneath the nightscape past the spark once understood the flame and nothing more .
In empty alleys, like cats to prowl, we find our moments, and then bury our thoughts to lay for no others to see.

half written papers and half heard conversation the keys of the piano haunt the silence as myself shadows that still remain.

Nothing is but a thought and those are like dead flowers laid to waste a reflection of far better times

The night crawls to meet the day as it has so many times before.

The thought of the minds bottle lay empty upon the table.
A fond farewell is but a sugar coated goodbye.
And I seldom have minced my words to mask their sting.

The page forever bleeds.

Pages that lay scattered on a ***** floor
Bleeding ink into cracks
that will forever more
hide the spirit of our souls.

Theres always a excuse not to fail.
Lack of spine is what it all comes down.to.
Many build a callus on there *** waiting for something to land in there lap.

Is it fear or comfort that makes one lazy?

I never knew anything easy two broken feet a few broken ribs a busted knuckle or two the scars of effort i wore them with pride.

People are a nice thought far to often gone astray.
There words lend fools comfort.
And keep the bitter moving without regret.

I was alone with my thoughts and what a place i truly embraced being.
Crazy is just a word to keep others away.

Maybe its why i wore it like a badge.
For its the mad ones that intrest me the most.

There is always a reason not to try.
And never a excuse that doesnt reek of ******* and a normal existance.


Saftey is for signs on the walls and guns in bored fools hands.

Avoid that word at all time's and you will be fine.
As you bask in the solace of your own truths and simple plessures.

Theres never a excuse.

There is no easy way to take it.
The rejection of many never compares to that of one once true


They are the ones that always hit you the hardest.
I have buried myself to avoid the pain of the many my defenses are stronger than the average man.

She was my exception .
I didn't try to stop you .
Only a fool pleads.
Giving what little dignity he has for a thin chance at something that is over to begin with.

Kelley was my poison she was like certain death and a good time all rolled into one.

She never cared for anyone let alone me
But I made her laugh and that was good enough to have her for six years .

She was the one I wasnt supposed to have.
Young beautiful she was from a world I could never understand.

But she loved me for what reasons I will never truly grasp.

I missed are passion for everything.
Fighting ,Drinking ,*******.
She understood madness with a good dose of her own.

The week she left me.for good I stayed on a three week drunk.
Eat pills like they were candy and found after awhile even being numb has a emptiness that simply masks pain.


The phone would ring and I knew it was her.
I couldn't answer.

It wasnt that I didn't want to hear from her.
It was I didn't want to allow lies to feed a glimmer of hope.

Writers are professional liars.
She was no writer.
She was something far worse.
She was a women whom had a mans mentality.

She was as  ****** up as me and I knew her love was toxic .
She was like a cigarette to a trying to quit smoker .

Sure it can **** you but man one draw and that poison never tasted so good.
Death can be tempting when it looks so ******* good.

I was the past to her .
Nobody ever stays in love with the past.

I sat there alone in my cluttered room watching one day flow into the next.

Dust grew upon the page.
My thoughts simply stayed in a state of rewind.

Im not home  now leave message after the beep.

Baby please talk to me.
Kelly's voice came through.

I didn't answer .
There's only silence amougsnt the tombstones.

The room was filled with freak ******'s and other assorted nut jobs and then there were the folks that weren't writers.

It was a poetry reading open mic deal yeah what a wild party this was going to be but being the best of the best from Hello were supposed to be there I figured my invitation must have got lost in the mail.

You know what that is kids.
See before the net you actually had to get off your lazy **** to mail a letter yeah I know how ****** up is that?
It's almost like music where you actually play instruments  to enjoy instead of steal a loop from one of your parents records yeah don't pretend you understand that one if you under the age of thirty .

But enough with the foreplay children .
The room was packed the poets ready and as I took my seat I was shocked to find they wouldn't be serving ***** at this snooze fest .
Probably a good idea cause after teen age Timmy read his ode to his two day relationship we would all probably slip into a coma .

No worries much like batman but not as gay.
, I always had my trusty utility belt I'm kidding I just had a flask what kind of freak do you think I am?, Okay don't answer that one hamsters.

So after ordering a coffee and adding a little ******* tonic  I sat back and waited to listen to the young crop of writers read there poetry eager to take it all in yeah, right I did as always sat back and waited to
heckle the **** out of everyone hit on the waitress and generally be known as the loveable poetic areshole  of the site.

The time flew.
If by that you mean the time dragged on like we were being ear ***** by a duet between Justin Bieber    and Selna  Gomez .
It was brutal I tell you but the tide was about to make a turn for the better .

As the MC  for the event announced we have a special guest in the crowd tonight and hopefully with a round of applause we can get him to do a reading for us folks give a warm round of applause for .

I jumped to the stage the truly poetic ego maniac ***** eager to save the day or at least give it a good kick in the *** there's only so much
you can listen to of this yuppy ***** before you go insane hamsters .

The woman must have been in shock being in the presence of the greatest co writer in Hello history .
For she looked at me like she had no clue who the hell I was .

Um sir do you mind getting off the stage we are getting ready to ask Joel M Frye  to the stage.
Joel ?

Yeah sure he's a great writer and can spell and his farts smell of cinnamon and pier one or at least I have herd.
But do you have no idea of who I am woman?

She looked at me with a mix of sympathy and probably thinking I wonder if the institution knows he's escaped ?
Umm no sir sorry I don't have a clue.

I had to take in consideration this poor women probably had a smaller brain than the genius that stood before her .
I am Gonzo my sweet lady I said really slow so she could understand
cause she had a smaller brain I'm not saying that cause she was a woman so don't get all *** crazy on me sisters cause you know Gonzo loves you all like a perverted uncle .

Gonzo where have I herd that name oh yeah I know you I thought you died ?
What duh I'm standing here aren't I?

Wait a minute maybe I'm a ******* zombie **** I hate to think I'm one of those walking dead ******* although I have had *** with some ladies I swear could pass for a zombie course that was probably just the drugs I slipped them hey don't judge  I'm kidding I would never do that I do what every true gentleman does when in need.
Pick up hookers .

Hey John Joel said as he slipped up behind me like some poetic ninja .

Joel amigo how the hell are you please do me a favor and explain to this woman just who I am I mean really yeah it's like they don't know how kick **** I am .

Well Gonz maybe I can talk them into letting you do a reading .
Look this guys totally ******* nuts okay so bare with me Joel
whispered to the mc lady  who's smaller brain was truly annoying the **** out of me.

Gonz let me just work this out okay buddy .
I began to object then Joel pulled a truly ***** trick by handing
me the most recent issue of hustler magazine  .
From what I herd it had a great article in it yeah right you have to admire **** that doesn't pretend to be nothing more than what it truly is kind of like me  .  

The woman and Joel spoke for some time and I assume she had seen the error of her ways as she laughed and shook her head oh that Joel he is a charmer.

I  was almost halfway through the ****** hunt  section when .
Joel appeared again like some magical poetic ninja slash friendly dragon .

Gonz man I pulled some strings and after I do a reading your going to close the show hell I even got you your own dressing room and everything figured you'd like to warm up a bit or at least not ******* in front of everyone it's getting a bit awkward I'm just saying bud.

I had to admit Joel was a true friend and as I was shown to the back dressing room it truly tugged at that lump of coal I called a heart to know I still had a true friend on the site I could trust .

Okay here's your dressing room Mr Gonzo it must be a awesome one I thought to myself for it had a big red sign above the door man they truly went all out for me .

But much like when I learned where babies come from my delusion was soon broken in half yeah I always thought they came from dumpsters like I did.

I was standing in a alley ***** cold there were no drinks or hot chicks with there ******* out as I had been promised .
****** man I was starting to believe I had been tricked.

I quickly made my way to the front of the club to tell Joel what these ******* had done !.
But the doors were locked man poor Joel they have trapped him inside
anything could be happening I sure hope he wasn't being ***** .

I banged on the door but couldn't see anything for the lights were off
it's like the people inside were avoiding me like most my friends .

Hey I know your in there open up you *******! .
Woman with the small brain I called out.
Please if you can here me please get Joel out of there he's to good to be tarnished by your terrible readings or *****  cause that's not funny haha yes it is I'm so demented.

I sat there for what felt like ages .
and after five minutes I had to give up Joel was lost to the poetic **** inside ****** man so many good writers have been lost to such lures as these coffee shop readings.

I made my way to the local bar heartbroken seems there was no love for Mr Gonzo left in this town  .
I ordered a double and drank one to my friend who probably is reading this and thinking what the **** am I on this time .

Well it's mix of speed and bourbon but I'm  taking it a bit easy these days .

Dam you!, poetry coffee house readings you have taken far to many of my friends .
I drown my sorrows and passed out as usual and thanked the lord I had escaped with my life and Joel's **** mag I will treasure it forever my friend.

Until next time
Stay crazy kids .

Gonzo

No Matter The Floor You Pass Out On

I awake as any other madman slash poet.
Apon the floor  naked  pizza box for pillow a members only jacket for a blanket.
yes the libary sure has changed over the years.

less and less people were reading buggets were cut meaning
libraryies were under staffed and rarely did anyone dare venture into
the stacks  and thank good for that. Cause being i preffered free sleeping
it was probaly for the best.

but no matter the the floor you pass out on most all fine
american men wake up with are god given birth rite.
That which after a trip to the restroom like
that early morning madness that was christmas  pressent openning
was over way to fast and was kinda disapointing.

Floors werent the best beds in the world in fact they
****** altogather but drinking and common sense dont even
belong in the same room togather.

Portsmouth Va  was a strange world indeed a place where upscale colided with skidrow.
Me I preffer the company of a outdoor sleeper to that of a
spoiled spoon fed yuppie ****.
the art school cranked out angst ridden buble people by the second.

They walked the street soaking in the pain of life.
there heads stuck so far up there ***** I always felt compeled to trip them as they walked by.
acting as though they were outsiders  yerning to be mainstream
they'd **** there mothers on a mtv reality show as dad cried in the background.

Just for a taste of stardom.
True talent who needs that?
but no matter the floor you pass out on one
thing was clear.

In a world were you could have a bus load
of kids and get paid for it.
fame wasnt such a rare thing anymore.

The floor I passed out on was cold and cruel but surrounded
voices from the past.
the floor these hollow  reallity show bottom  feeders
passed out on.  Had to besoft as there heads.

Otherwise there brains would splatter across the floor.
And some TV exect would have a brainstorm  to have a show
were washed up celebrities would have a contest.

To see who could bore us the most with there sob story  
Yes friends id rather have a pizza box for a pillow
than a reality show  pillbox for a brain.

and the truth effectsus all form no matter
which floor so you do choose to pass out on.

They always say write what you know but no reader would ever care to travel the roads I know so well.
The unwanted gather in vast groups to isolate.
My thirty days notice is now .

Insanity you claim maybe in this venture I know my ends pleasure to resist I know none better to reside just let me burn out with all the rest.

In code I speak if only you cared to decipher maybe I would give a **** to explain my dear.

It's been a good run.

Sometimes we have to go through hell just to understand were alive.
In that case I am doing great I do suppose .
I have seen friends vanish lost a website I created and ran for many a year lost readers and lost my mind on more than one occasion.

Sprinkle in a very bad accident on a motorcycle and you have the ingredients for a bang up year.

I find people are delusional when it comes to writing .
They think a contract means your life all the sudden changes for the better ,When in truth it is just the end of one struggle and the beginning of the next.

Problems never end but with any change there are just new problems .

My life is a ******* train wreck and I have played that full throttle lifestyle to my advantage for far to long .
But it was never a act there is nothing fake about me .

I live for I know every moment is uncertain and in that understanding I embrace every second.
Few people truly know me they either know what they have herd or simply make up the rest .

You cant waste time over the ignorant for as soon as you knock one down there are fifteen more standing in that fools exact same place.

**** them if they don't get you .

I have found more comfort in a night spent under the stars than in the company of those who would tell you there good intentions while placing a knife to your spine.

I'm a *******, a drunk ,A fool ,I am whatever you choose to label me
but I am always a hundred percent real .

Those who preach those who try to pretend they would point you in the right direction are full of pure crap .
I cant lead me so ******* if you think I could even begin to help you.

My road has taken me so far from everything I once thought I held dear.
Twisted my logic and weather beaten my soul.
Maybe I'm ****** up from life but no worse than the image that stares at you in the mirror you refuse to truly see so you place the labels on others .

Whatever make 's you feel less of a freak sweetheart is fine by me.


I  found that it's always uphill when you don't settle for what's there.
I never did listen worth a **** and I dam sure wont buy into someone else's ******* I would rather be a fool to my own guidance.

Take this as you will.

Sincerely  

Gonzo

We almost found it somewhere through are addictions and abuse.

Where the young and delusional tread we walked a path of broken glass and razor wire .

Bled the emotions for all they were worth than killed it in a second  now only I concern myself with a past you erased with miles between.

Maybe you let it seep within alone in moments none others may see .
But a fool's hope is all there is of me and you desired  the separation .

My time is not long for here as I do everything to destroy myself .

I question why I linger then think in death there won't be another fix.

I have embraced the scene while you have rewritten the act .

Let's ride like once before the miles ahead and the razors edge a promise and nothing more .
we lived in eight where most only exist in thirteen .

A ring , A bruise, A scar and a sweet once passion filled kiss .
Was it are love of one another or just a love for the chaos .

Nobody walks away unscathed from this dance .

I wonder if ever do you recall the past as I?

And the lights will soon dim upon this scene .

I listened to the sounds of a nights life as it was on truest display.
On yet another dead end night.
No deadlines, no friends to annoy, no voices to echo shattered thoughts together.  

Long since had the audience grown cold and I simply deaf to their presence nothing drowns an ego worse than the reality's of a distant storm.

I listened like a ghost story.
A child's fears matched only by the amazement of what never could be and the night kept rhythm with my soul as emptiness washed the troubles aside for now .

Sometimes nothing.
Holds you closer than any lover shall.

We are lost to our thoughts and me just lost for the sake of being gone.
I enjoy my distance now the wolves can call but no longer do I feel the burden to run .

Nothing is as peaceful as knowing the hand doesn't have to yearn for the pen.
Simply let the thoughts go as they linger in seconds my hours were never wasted .
For what never was could never be lost.

Time tells me I'm done .
And the night simply speaks to me in gentle whisper of darkness .
Be bound not by shackles for now you are free .

A note slid underneath my door.
How marks on a page can crush the heart worse than
steel breaks the bone.

The oceans tide has come to take me away.
I dove twice as deep.
In laughter apon the first.
In regret of that which I could not grasp.
Glimmers of light lost in the waters depth cast
so far away.

Missed lines the old sometime must think young.
I found  hope on nothing's  promised embrace.
A ring of lies one moment of truth.

Remember  me for times  I can no longer attend.
Troubles untold  sometimes outside is easier than
A insiders view.

The cards werent  right and thoose at the table
knew a jokers laugh was a far off cry.
No words can be spoken in the emptyness
of loss for which there is no return.

A shore apart a heart jaded but always true.
no blame  is to be placed for a road must surely
one day end.

The words read last a souls release.
The tide must always kiss the sea.
A city of emptyness reflects all that is left
inside of me.

Stay  as was my plea.
Crazy how could anyone truley know the madness
that is seldom understood by even me.

Words apon a page ive traded ink for life blood
of my soul.
I left the note  unread.

As spiders cast webs woven of time.
Cold as the peace final rest to torment.
That is the barbwire  within my head.

It was time for a much overdue rest.
A co writter in life is better than apon the page.
Niether is my path no  hope as the clock
points to a dark hour shadows have returned to stay.

Heaven was mine for a moment.
Hell is more my style I  guess.
As in stories and legends im already on my
way.

Voices all speak within there own key.
Torment, addiction and isolation.
Are all thats left of me.

To the page I understand and my existence for which I only same to  trace.
Have we not came this far on instinct now can we outlast the ******* ahead?
dam the wrong turns I have far less direction with you may I convince you to stay only to destroy
what never was to begin with my dear.  

As we count hours only to empty the glass.
Maybe one last dance upon  this edge will break us maybe if only we embrace the hopeless
may we understand death and the emptiness for which you remain.

Tonight a graveside stance forget the souls underneath I walked upon to get here.

Enjoy this agony for these are the days were night will gain depth.
So shallow are my thoughts when blinded by eyes.

You counted the hours but no change would become of you in form.
A favorite monster of my worst design can I slip my poison inside only to admire are decay?

Love you served me well for winter now summers hail will reside my thoughts.
Frozen as glass to water of pond .
Your image lay trapped within my thoughts and ice.

Farewell

Coming outa the fog that was a steady binge I reailzed it had all
changed.
No longer was I the in demand writer but more like a sad cliff note
to a on going trainwreck.

People either stopped by to view the specticle or laugh at the
man who no longer was what they secretly hated.
The drinks but a old vice and my only true friend who held the
promise of my death.

The night befor had been a display of Gonzo like a vetran preformer
I played the role empty to myself yet the joke they did thirst to
know to see that spark and relive vision's of a burning fire.

To have the safe laugh with the old drunkard.
My eyes but a store window to a long since closed business.
I had become a human ghost town a walking monument to
the strange case of what used to be.

There taunts were clear hidden under a mocking yet sweet candy
covered lie.
tormented like a lion in a zoo who's rage if released would
make them run in sheer terror if only they could imagine the violence
that loomed in my thoughts.

But I just continued to extinguish that fire every drink
kept it at a dull smolder.

They wanted the image the walking joke not the truth.
like a burnt out ****** eventhough it killed me i still
craved that feeling of utter acceptance in the reality of it's
true rejection.

The road called to me as it viewed me as a lost love
who had fallen and was notning more than a sad parody
of a once brave yet now bitter soul.

The mystery of that last great journey still did awake me.
The heart is a highway it's road looms on into the horizen.
Hitting deadends and emotional near insane crossroads.

And I no longer was numb enough to take it's punishment.
Th scrapbook of my mind was full yet pages were added by the drop.

The final chapter waited.
But befor it's end it must be lived.

Alone I knew this was the last stand and only when you walk through hell do you understand how it feels to rest in silence.
A circus preformer left with only posters and trinkets to recall
thoose failed glory's.

One last battle still did wait.
All i needed was one last spark.
So began my trip from paridise to hell.

The words my guide the whiskey my fuel.
Insanity my old friend in battle.
And this semi thing called reality my willing rival.

As writers we thirst for perfection and all its beautiful destruction.
As for gonzo it was all down hill from here kids.