It's cool to see all my friends get older
All that grey in their beards
Laugh lines and crows feet
creeping away from their faces

Life's at noon and lunch is on the table
Youth's slipping away,
but dinner still seems a far distance
and the bell has yet be rung

I see sunshine slipping in through open doors
and a warm breeze envelopes us
as we laugh and talk over a sandwich
even though we're so far away from each other

There will be dark clouds and storms to weather
There will be tears and sadness in our hearts,
but they will be fleeting and short lived
as long as we stick together

Pictures of kids and stories of our own youth
keep us young
Our memories of the good times are just waiting
to be overwritten by better ones yet to come

We're in the twilight of our lives,
but there's a full moon in the sky
When it's dark and cold don't be afraid!
The sun will rise on us again to
warm our hearts and ease our minds
of the troubles of dark and stormy nights

We will dine together one last time
and we will cross life's last line
under a star filled sky
Smiling
Laughing
Loving
Celebrating our friendship
as we gracefully slip into the great unknown...
together

I can't save you.  
Maybe somebody else can,
but I'm drowning all by myself over here.  
Can't you see this?  

I'm hanging on
to so many other people right now
that I have no free hands for you,
but if you can find a corner
of my shirt then grab on.

Don't say I didn't warn you,
and stay the **** away from my feet.
I'll kick you
I'm not strong enough to know
the difference between
helping and hurting,
and if you're weak like me
we'll both

s
   i
       n
            k

Pssst!  Hey, what are you looking at?
I'm over here.
You keep walking over me,
but we're attached at the heel

You can take your shoes off,
but we share the same soul;
barefoot in the ocean
or in ten inches of snow

I'm with you thick or thin
All that *****
can't hide me, and by me I mean we,
because I'm deep within.

How long will you keep talking to yourself?
You know everybody's looking right?
They're looking at you
looking at me,
while you try to convince the world
that you're not ******* crazy!

Don't you see that I love you man?
Everyone else does but you.
You stand in front of that sink a liar everyday,
And I stand there with you, tears in my eyes
and words stuck behind the lump in my throat
to tell you that it's gonna be okay.

You're not the only one here;
standing in front of this stupid mirror.
I'm right here with you, brother.
We love you,
but you
have to love you
too!

While I was in getting my latest tattoo a week ago, I expressed an interest in the possibility of getting a line or two from one of my own poems tattooed on me somewhere.  I'm not sure that Stan (my artist) understood that I was talking about my own writing.  His answer to my expressed desire was basically a question: why words, when a picture is worth a thousand words?  

     It was an awkward moment for me because I totally agreed with what he said, but in my mind I was very upset.  I wanted to answer him with "because I can't ******* draw, so all I have is my words!", but I didn't.  So the awkward moment was inside my mind and stayed there to never come out until now.  

     Honestly, I'm not really even sure if I've written anything worthy of being permanently placed on my skin.  I'm not even sure I have written anything worthy of even having been taken out of my mind and put in plain view for anyone to see in the first place.  I've always been jealous of the traditional artist who paints and draws and sculpts.  They create life out of absolutely nothing but pigment and paper and even trash.  

     What does a novelist do, but lie about some fictitious event or group of charachters on some world based ever so lightly on reality and sell a reader on his or her ******* to escape their own.  That's pretty harsh.  I realize that.  I guess I can admit that artists are doing the exact same thing, but with much greater effort and, often times, with less environmental impact!  Maybe not.  I don't know.  

     I guess as a man who dabbles in poetry, and I don't dare call myself a poet, I'm just jealous of the attention that other art forms get from audiences.  A painter spends so much time on her canvas, puts it out for the world to see, and the effort immediately receives criticism, both good and bad.  The same thing can be said about musicians.

     Poetry is different though.  It's much more subjective.  I've both written and read topical poetry that was simple and to the point, but that writing is usually just slogans, or maybe even post card worthy crap.  I've done the same thing with poems that I've read a thousand times and I STILL couldn't figure them out!  There really is such a thing as overly clandestine.  I've learned that over the years.  You can play hide and seek, but if nobody finds you, then it's no fun right?

     All art really does is give it's creator an outlet to express himself or herself no matter the vehicle.  Maybe I'll find that perfect stanza of my own words to put on my calf.  Maybe my tattoo artist will read the words and love them.  Maybe he'll scoff, take my money, and throw them up in a hurry.  I guess it doesn't matter much.  Like anyone else who creates, I do it because I have to and not because I want to and, while it would be nice if I could connect with people over my creations, in the end I don't care.  I'm just like every other artist out there who loves what they do and ******* if you don't!

I was driving yesterday, and while in traffic
I saw a car with the word security
in big bold black letters
stretched out across the smallish white bumper.

The driver of that car went left,
and I switched lanes to travel right.
I didn't feel secure behind him.
I felt trapped in his presence.

The further I went away from security,
the closer I felt to freedom.
People get the concepts of freedom
and security mixed up in their minds

all the time.  While there is security in freedom,
it's the security of being free
and providing for yourself,
not depending on someone else to make you feel safe.

Security is the result of freedom that you fight for,
not the servitude you surrender to.
Do you want to surrender to security,
or do you want to fight for freedom?

Sunroof open
AC off
Music cascades off the doors
and the floors
and escapes through the open windows
to bless all within earshot

Eyes jacketed behind
A fresh set of shades,
making the blues and greens pop
to the beat of the wind in my eardrums

Cool
crisp
breeze settling on my face
with a touch of sun
sending a warm glow down
to the very core of my soul.
It's my day like Claypool said.
What's better than Primus
on a fresh Spring day?

The leaves
on the trees
Remind me of newborns that can barely lift their heads;
unfurling
growing
reaching out to touch the sun
like Superman getting his groove back.

Buds bursting with color
like the fourth of July.
What a beautiful day…
It's great
to be out on a drive...

You're not so great
Look at how you treat people
Look at how you treat yourself
Actually, that's all you ever do
What's so important about You?

You work all week and visit me
frequently
You take me in your hands and kiss me
oh so deeply
Quickly taking me into you
Steady handed at first,
but how soon you turn sloppy

A ghost in the room
You're all but dead
No one remembers you,
But you blame it on me
See?  
I didn't come to you
I never sought you out
Not on Fridays
Not on long weekends
Not on bad days,
or just because days.

I never even told you we were friends
Nope!
You know what they say about the word assume
The only thing I ever did
was let your monster out
Oh!  He was already there
It's in all of you,
but most do a pretty good job at caging it…
til I come around with the keys to the kingdom

I'm still not taking responsibility though
No way!
You knew what I was when you were just a boy
Your father showed you,
but you forgot
It's okay
Everybody does, and it's not his fault

Look at yourself!
You're the gatekeeper man!
I'm just the ******* with the key
Don't let me in

Look at yourself and solve the problem
Leave me on ice
Unopened
Untouched
Let somebody else play with my fire, boy!
Keep that monster within, ya hear?
Keep the fire in the pit

Look at yourself….

I Lost My ****

I don't really know what's going on right now
                                                       right now
All I know
is I was ******* on the side of a highway
DEVIL faced
Evil.
Like a slasher with nothing else to do.

I didn't like it though
Nope!  
Some dude in a big diesel truck
Picked me up.

I got home, and I had no excuse for the mud on my legs.
I had no excuse for anything.
No excuse,
But angry
Was looking at me
But most of it was from my own face,
so who can I be mad at?

HEY STEVE!   STOP BEING A **** UP!  
But that's all I got
All I got
All I got
All I got
So…
Hey!  I can pick up heavy ****
So…
I can be an ******* better than anybody I know ,
So…
I'm just a ruiner that's no good at nothing,
So…
**** it all!

Thunder
God's bowling alley
Lightning licking Earth’s most sensitive places
Striking a fire in a forest fumbling for new growth

The grass,
green with envy of winter's cold solitude
Last leaves crinkle brown under rubber tires
and fresh chlorophyll fills the air
In backyards around campfires
With children playing and laughing,
pale white skin with a touch of red
from warm Sun's rays

Ah Spring!
Nature's apology for long cold winter nights
and days trapped inside
snowbound
without an end in sight.

Come, spring!  
Give us your joy and your mirth
Bless us with flowers,
showers,
and a pretty, painted Earth!

Blood and liquor
Two barrels of sweat and tar
Five or six guys gotta show up in one car

Machinery and dump trucks
Poor schmucks
Pushing brooms and shovels
Down a road
with a story untold

And all the cars pass ******
Tempers short
Uncaring
Unappreciative
Suits and ties and brows left glaring

There's nothing like fresh asphalt under the tire's wearing
But the men and women on the road crews get ***** looks
For a hard day's  work,
While you drive down the road staring...

Like luggage launched hastily,
haphazardly tossed to the ground
Back down
Feet in the air
Stripped of all my glorious hair

There's a fire feeding forks facing each other
upright like they were having a dual,
while two homies are having another
The third was an awkward brother
holding a sharp shaft, pointy at both ends

He poked and prodded at me
looking for a tender spot to push in
The cold metal burned me inside
as I was pierced, I cried
and thought I had died

All three picked me up like a sack
and threw me on the heated rack,
As the fire licked my skin
and burned my flesh,
they took turns turning me
Round and round I went
My goose was cooked
and I felt nothing left inside me at all

I wish I had stayed away from those three
I would never say that mom
didn't try to warn me.

Life should be about traveling and relaxing.  It should be about cold winter nights around a fire with your best friends and warm spring nights in a field with tents and a grill.

Life should be filled with laughter so loud that it interrupts most things, and songs that everyone closes their eyes and sings along with, holding a smile between parted lips and love in their hearts.

Life...big sigh.  Life is so short.  Too short to let go of.  Life should be ripped from your fingernails while dragged across a hardwood floor kicking and screaming; begging not to have it taken away.

Life is lived on by us.  We keep it sacred, and we love it.  We share it with everyone, and everyone who smiles at you throughout your day appreciates and understands that, whether they say so or not.

You're life.  You're love.  You are loved.  Never forget this.  Even me, as angry and as hostile as I am, I love too.  We all do.  And we pass this on to strangers, so they can and they do.  

Remember.  I love you.  Pass it on....

My tongue is a pitchfork,
but my words wait wantonly
for your eyes to process them.
They wait patiently on the page for you to ponder them.

Like little deadly daggers dipped in poison,
or honey,
or lust to drive you to touch yourself,
or someone else.

Maybe you want to touch me.
Maybe you want to caress my leg.
Maybe you want to punch me or hurt me instead.
Perhaps my words make you
want to make me
dead
for something that I said.

Maybe not though.

Maybe you just brush by briskly,
ignoring me and my words,
but how long can you ignore the devil?
Remember children.
The devil gets his due...
he always gets his due!

I love original poetry, but sometimes I feel like poets ruin their work by doing weird **** with their form and layout.  There are a lot of poets out there who are clever enough to pull it off very well, but there are even more that just can't, and they sacrifice some of the best words I've ever read to a gimmick.  It's sad really.  Good poetry is art, but if you want to paint or draw, then do that.  Don't **** perfectly placed palabras with weird line breaks, spacing, and alignments that make absolutely no ******* sense and ruin the message.  It's all about the message, man.  You dig?!

I'm Bill Burr on a bad day.  
I'm Mark Maron sober.  
I'm Red ******* Forman
with both toes of my boots covered in your ****.  

I'm a spinning storm
of hot tempered anger
throwing shade at you on a bright sunny day
and blinding you with the light of common sense
through your cloudy headed moment of stupidity.

Who am I?  
I am the honest angel with a devil's backbone
in a moment of cowardice.  
I am the tranquility in your search for land on a stormy sea.  
I am Human, and so are you!

Summitt
Tortured
Torched skin frosty with bite
Mind broken on a stance
I can't dance,
but dead can,
so I kicked it
Down
Down down
I drowned today in a frown
It was mine and I wore it

like a pro

I'm a little "g" God with a pencil
Stenciled out god
He's not Catholic
He's not Baptist
He's not Jewish
He's not Buddha,
Allah,
Or living in some Shanghai Shangri-la
He's a premonition
Just a figment
Of your imagination
a **** poor attempt to keep you from
your own ruination

God is dead
and no one cares
Man's attempt
to quiet contempt
for life's pains
Shhhhh! It's a secret!
It's not a race,
it's just humanity
It's a lie covered
by colored
skin
It's buried deep within
on a cellular level

The only escape from life is death
The only escape from death is cancer,
and cancer isn't winning any support
for its escape from programmed cell death,
soooooo...

Two broken branches in a cave
Both are just stories
Lies
Built by slaves
For slaves

A Golden book about a lost puppy
Men try to gather other men
Toss women into a lake,
and spit on them!
**** on them!
Worthless!

Both just stories
Both worrisome works written weakly by left handed men.
Barely men, I say!
Barley had more importance than paper penned by them!

Jews and gentiles...
Worthless spit
Of man's self importance!
All descendents of the same two arbitrary arses
Who made a break for a planetary
Singularity.

Cell division ******* by partisan politics
The very miracle of humanity ruined
by worthless people who couldn't
Feed themselves outside of a boxed lunch

But it's just a hunch...
Take Jesus off your cross and live.
Or, you can die....
Two ***** and a **** I don't give!

I live in a glass house and throw
rock after rock til the shards cut through my veins
like warm, bitter butter
from all the soapbox prat falls,
kicks in the teeth,
and busted *****.

I get up after each one like
"**** is my cannon?!?!"
I wander the streets just
waiting for life to **** me
No ****
No condoms
Just a ****** *** buying *****
with wooden nickels and a brownish white stain on my pants.

Judge me, but do it harshly
Cuz I'm better at it than you are
and I'm gonna stab you
right in the eye
with this plank pulled directly from mine

Kettle's blacker than a couldron,
and I stir em both with a crooked *******
I stealthily stuck down my pants
for a stink palm
for an *******.

So don't hassle me with that
"don't judge me" *******.
That's life, and she makes Judy
look like a ******' church mouse
So get your glass house
in order
I'm bringing all my friends
and a dump truck full of rocks,
slingshots,
and bottle rockets.

We're moving boys to men tonight...


We're taking no prisoners to light...

Stacked smoke billowing to the sky
Mixing
Mingling
Mugging moisture from the air
and raining down into the streets below.

We tread upon it unconsciously
Care corrupted by a deadline
from some place we must be,
so into the gutters it doth flee
flowing just beneath
and into the sea
and into the ground

The animals drink it
The plants tortured turgor broken backs with it
Packeged in pools
Sent through pipes to me
and to you

We drink the dragons breath
Drunk on power
Pitiless to the plight of the flower
Breathing sulfuric steam
Green to yellow
Yellow to brown to gray to black

We started to take it back,
but the power
The lust for more
The trust in ****** and swindles and crooks
brought back by cornered mouths hooked.

Green could be life,
but green is now greed
and we are but claws
on the feet of scaled beasts

There's no light here
This side of the moon is dark and cold
No one to save you
No ansible to broadcast your dismay home

Dead, dry eyes
and dark circles
underlying years of sleepless nights
accented with coffee stained teeth

Everybody dies
Nobody lives forever,
and everybody lies
a little, but some are more clever

With western eyes in a leathery skin,
we drag ourselves on over the bodies
over the broken souls
of victim and predator akin

But take heart, my friend!
It's not so dreary as it appears
Substitute sadness for independence
and confidently embrace the end.

There's no light at the end of this tunnel,
but take heart!
Embark on your final journey traveler!
There never was a tunnel to begin with

I'm glad I live in a country where I can ***** to no end about every ******* thing I can think of.  

I love the fact that there are gay nightclubs within walking distance to my home and that there are transgendered individuals in and out of my house 24/7.  

I love the fact that my wife is Catholic and isn't afraid of Muslims.  

I love the fact that I have more firepower than I would ever really need (really...I ******* do!).  

I love the fact that I can question any religion I want to and attend a service of said religion if I want to as well.  

I love the fact that I can order a dido and a bible from amazon and have them arrive in the same box together within 2 days.  

I love the fact that I can call 911 right now and have a fire truck, a cop, an ambulance, and a medic all show up within five minutes of each other and keep my silly white *** alive if I'm dying.  

I love the fact that a woman just ran for president to try and take over for a black man who was president for eight years.

I love the fact that I live in the craziest, most free country in the whole ******* world and that no one can take it away from me, because I'm surrounded by other people who feel the same way.

America...land of the free and home of the brave!

There is nothing new under this sun.
Nothing but cracks in the sidewalk's bend.
No kind, uplifting words from a close friend
that can stop life's promised bitter end.

There's an impassable gap in
your stairway to heaven's gates
you designed yourself,
so the buck stops in your own hands.

Shiny happy people holding chainsaws, handguns,
and sticks on fire.
All the better to flame up your funeral pyre.
All the jeers
mixed with all of the blood
and sweat
and tears
placed perfectly silent into your coffin and covered with dirt.

Yet one question never mattered in the end did it?
Who's the ******* president now?
Who cares?

Noises
Overcrowding voices
Well intentioned facts figuring
******* figurines who wouldn't move otherwise
Fondling feelings of all the innermost spaces
No peace left to think
No left of center
Nor right way to finish this

I'll hang my hat here by the fire
and watch it's hot embers turn into cool coal
I'll hear the hunters pass politely by
As the spring draweth nigh
I'll wave goodbye as the vines cover my eyes
and the dirt and dust film up over my thighs
and chest quickly cover with surface rust
I'll bury the lust of hot words spewed in anger and fears
under flowers budding ever quickly from evaporated tears

I'm powering down
Wearing a frown
Disenfranchised with it all
How can I stand out in a crowd dressed in clashing colors
All shouting at once?

I'm cowering now
Under the brow
Of an angry man spited;
filling with more and more teeth marks
as the days hours and minutes count down on an ominous clock

There's a crowing **** in the yard where we all gathered once
His call is raspy and no one is listening anymore
All the more reason to bury myself in the gardens or in the forests
Only to awaken when whispers overpower shouts
And hot angry words turn into fading water spouts

I want to run to the top of a mountain and jump off of it.
I'll die at the bottom when I hit the ground,
but on the way down
at least I can say that I truly lived completely free
in a moment.

We're all here
Look at us
Acknowledge us
Would you please not forget us.

I'm important
And so am I
It's my rights that are in question
I'm afraid I'll lose it all

We won the office
We'll take the crown
Turn this place
Upside down

Put it all together
A couldron of filth
Toxic mixture of lies,
hate and misunderstanding

Broken windows
and people in black bandanas
Hoods up with hate-filled eyes
With flags of anarchy

No peace
No way to know peace
Without a piece
It's all an incredible joke
And we're the ****

It's a new day with a new CIC
I pity you
I justify me
Oh say, can you see?
Not me...
Certainly not me
I don't know you at all,
and I'm scared!

Crash
Smash
Explode!

Mountains to boulders to rocks to dirt to dust
Come clouds and crystals of ice;
Tight ball of hot metal
***** dust settles

A storm develops
Universe ****
A solar system's lust is born,
and everybody's ******* like rabbits!

It's a big ***;
A couldron;
A stew is cooking and boiling over
As it tips, it spills out upon Earth
Filling the mountains and valleys and seas with life
Galactic money shot hit pay dirt

And
God
Wept....

There's fire on the mountain
Would you let it burn you?
It only hurts a little.
I'd die to climb it!

Give up everything to behold
The majesty of it's summit
Taste the air and feel
The vapor engulf me in its thick, smokey fog

Let licking tongues of flame
Burn away blame
Turn the impossible into a smoldering cinder
Ready to spark another trail of lust and adventure

I died on that mountain top
My eyes burnt from weeping
Never to witness it's beauty again for as long as I breathed
I gasped and spit with tears of ash and lungs aflame
At the end of a dying dream...
Only to awaken and realize
the mountain and it's fire were just outside the door
Waiting for me to come and explore....

Sharp words shouldn't be spoken
Nobody's perfect
When everything comes out broken
Choking on every syllable
Soaking up every last "I'm sorry"
like a sponge that's full already
Steady, aim, fire another round across his bow
Give her another volley of misunderstanding champ,
because your fowling out over fences topped with razor wire

Sometimes a simple smile seems better
Than a string of wrong words that leave your mouth bitter
Sometimes still tongues touch more hearts
and wagging ones turn burnt ears into quitters
Sometimes stepping out's better

Why stick around and frown?
Why let it all bring you down?
Needle and thread your squack box
Turn keys on locks
And give it up, will ya?!
Try it again tomorrow
There'd be a whole lot less sorrow....

Ground Hog's Day
Better pray.
Ash clouds send us all to the man to pay
tribute to the fallen soul of America.

Got a pocket full of ***** to give,
but that's it!
When I'm out, I'm out *******!
Don't come up and ask me for ****!

The apocalypse is a joke told to the masses to justify
all of the terrible things tyrants have done to terrify
us into falling for all of their lies!

But I am my own brand of devil.
I am my own brand of a ghost faced, scowling rebel,
and I will spread my brand across a thousand deserts
and a hundred seas to set the slaves free again!

Tell your Jesus mine is different.
Tell your Mary my martyr is a *****.
Tell your pastor I hate hymn.
I'll scream my praises to the most high
under a dark, grey sky!

I'll palm mute a motor mouth.
I'll put pressure on a liar,
and eat the weakness from a wraith.
I'll set your church on fire!
I am the funeral pyre...

There's a spot on your coat
And a frog in your throat
You haven't combed your hair
Or made your bed in months

Your days and your nights are all the same
Filled with a lack of desire and hint of shame
You've paced trails on all the floors of this house
You haven't been outside in weeks

The weight of those boulders
You carry on those shoulders
Would've cracked a lesser man in half
After an hour or two.

Now you're standing here in front of me
And the others here to see
Just what a mess you've left to clean up
Isn't this fun?

You're no good
To anyone
You mope around wearing other people's clothes
When you've got a closet full of your own fresh ones

Son!
You're no good to anyone
Nope.
No way.
No how.

You're a flicker
in a dying fire
A broken heart
and a lost desire
A blown out
trailor tire
The last ember
In a funeral pyre

Son.
You're no good to anyone
Not like this
Please...don't let it end like this...
Not like this....

A spark
Smoldering so silently
But still there nonetheless
They never forget

Not visible
To the left a little bit
Or to the right
In a corner
Out of sight

Evaporated once,
But somebody added water
So it simmers still
Sits there
Invisible and angry ready to spill

Been there for as long as I remember
Somebody showed me once
They showed you too
And as much as we tried to forget
It kept coming and coming back
Rearing it's ugly head

We'd say we don't have time for this
Let's move on!
That's what got us here in the first place
Just leaving it to boil on a back burner
Letting its power grow ever strong

But here it is now
Right up front for all to see
Split down the middle
Couldn't spit across the faulty divide
However hard we tried.

We can build a bridge,
But we'd better do it quick!
This division will swallow us whole
Or divided either way

Hate doesn't care
It's just hungry
It will eat anything
It's moved in now,
And it's here to stay...

Chicken Littles coming out of the wood work
Like maggots out of a dead deer dangling
From Santa's sleigh ride

Got a devil in the white house
What's new?
You can't recycle old news
You can't put dead bodies in church pews

Pockets full of politics
Heads stuck in blenders
We'll all become activists
As long as Samsung and Zuckerberg can make it happen
On eight inch screens!

Never lifted a finger for a cause past a ballot box
Never gave a fork full of ***** for bums sleeping in parking lots

All of a sudden,
Everyman was stuck apologizing to a female
For an offhand comment
To an off brand television host

Meanwhile, it's still cool to walk up to a reporter
From the five o'clock news
And **** her right in the *****
While she's recording the neighborhood's on going blues!

But hey!  As long as he's not running for office,
He can say what he wants in front of cameras
About any jive female's orifice
Right?

Hmm...

I'm sorry,
Maybe I'm just confused
I don't know what's right anymore
When everything's wrong....
I'd rather just crawl back into my 20 something hole
And take hits from some ****.

I need a good body guy
My ride is a wreck
The engine just sputters
All of the passengers are *****

I give up hope
I think it's a total loss
No one wants to listen anymore
and everyone's the boss.

No comfy couch
No chains to bind me
Just a road and two legs
With no one to come and find me

Got a staff
and a good pair of boots
Couple grey hairs in a bristled beard
Rudderless fits best when your chopped off at the roots

The road in front of me
Looks a lot like the one behind
Empty, baron wasteland of paint and asphalt
faces ahead unseen similar to the others distorted with time

No place to rest
My weary and aching bones
No one left to believe in here nor there
Never really was anyway so far from home

People are beasts
Weighed down by the burdens they bare
But I drag a wagon to carry them lightly
And pretend that I don't care

But my hands tire
From the heavy load behind me
So I let it go and carry on further and further still
For I am the traveler, and I have no teathers to keep me here

This is an open mic
But there's no bulletproof glass here
What you say
Will directly affect your pay.

Your best bet is to keep quiet and listen up
That mic in the corner is poison
You're not ready to handle it
Organize your thoughts and come correct

Don't be
Another casualty
Think about what you're gonna say
Before you spray

Somebody will come from behind
And give you more than a piece of mind
Leave you breathless and bleeding
Leave you toothless and weeping

So think about what you say, son
This stage is a trap
This mic ain't so open.
This room is a meat grinder, and you're the meat.

A warmed up tube and a sweaty board
Slippery steel sloppily chattering
underneath my finger tips
The space is dank and hot and my ears are ringing

We've been over this a hundred times
What's one more
Or four more
Homeboy forgot his lines

A cigarette hangs from my lips
and the sweat constantly drips
My shirt is soaked
Brain probably fried from all the **** I smoked

But none of that matters
There's three new songs to get down
We gotta tighten that **** up
Get it all packaged neat for the rowdy crowd

I wonder if I was the only one in the room worried
Probably
All that went away as soon as we broke in
Properly

The song
The set
Free *****
Gallons of sweat

Memories that I could never forget....

In a country where the shelling never stops
Where the winter's winner won the war of words
When the anger blows better than the strongest winds
We will work; our fingers cut right to the bone regardless

You're a fighter fighting fists you cannot dodge
Like running recklessly through forests with eyes closed
Its all downhill from here
Slippery sloap; soaked with blood
Hurdling towards the wood cutters wedge at the bottom

See the snakes on either side
Keeping you in check on your descent
Gore fills the bottom's torment on either side
You hear the weeping willows cast their final tortured cries

But now you're waking up
Your bed is soaked salty sweaty from nights cruelty
Your fighting once again
Reality's grasp settling slowly in your mind

You raise to shower to do it all again
This is the hour to join the work of men
To climb that hill and push your boulder to the top
To go back home and fall asleep and dream the end

I don't need a lot
Just a small corner of you
Just a small room with a view
To all the stupid things you say and do

I've been judged my whole life
and I no longer care for what you think
about what I think
Your words are rotten and you're starting to stink

All that stupid **** that you spray
Tongue wagging around like a worm
Your pompous piety has you twisted up with your jaws set on stern
You're not even real, you're just another Ferguson
First name ****.

Keep your eyes in your head
Keep your mouth on pause
Keep your scorn towards the beliefs of others written in a book
Unpublished
Unseen
Never heard.

But for real though
******* man
You're not a real boy,
But you're a real *****
Mouth moving a minute mile
****!

At the end of the day,
nobody ever gave a **** about what you had to say
Ever!
So just give me a piece of you
Please!
I'm begging!
I'll tear you all apart,
Set you on fire,
And watch you turn crispy,
Critter!

On the bus,
But not so much.
We go round and round
With smiles turned upside down

Pushed aside
Try to talk,
But we're not doing this is all I got
Lash out
Anger
Bitterness

Frustrated
Aggravated
So mad the tears won't cry
Stranger in my house that wants to die

I don't want that though
No.
Just want the stranger
To go

Never signed up for that
Never ringed a finger
For the "Oh, by the way"
Hair trigger

It's like a canister unchecked
Pumps
Pumps
Pumps
POP!!!!!!!

I don't get it man
Everything was pony boy
Til he came, and you let him
I didn't want him hear, but you didn't!

I'm tired, but I can't sleep
All I do lately is eat
Drive and cut grass
I'll be glad when this **** right here is past...

So the debate is coming soon.  I'll sum it up for you:

Clinton to trump:  you're a racist white sexist biggot rich guy who hates immigrants

Trump to Clinton: I am rich.  I do hate illegal immigrants.  I've seen all of the highly edited commercials about how "sexist" I am.  Where did you get the racist biggot part from?  Oh ****!  I'm totally white.  My bad!  You're repugnant and you lie about everything you possibly can.  The proofs in the emails.  Oh yeah!  We can't read those.  You BLEACHED YOUR HARD DRIVE!!!  Oh.  And you're a liar.  Just wanted to reiterate that.

Clinton to trump: I didn't know the emails were classified.  I thought the little "c" stood for ****, so I deleted all the derogatory emails in protest.  Whoops.  I shouldn't have said that out loud.

Trump:  starts to go off on a tangent about how great he is and how many ******* people he knows.

Moderator: palms his face, stands up, and walks away (in his mind).
Reminds the candidates to answer the questions and stay on topic

Clinton and Trump in unison: what questions?

The American people: bend over, lather up with some KY, and bite down on the leather strap for another 8 years of ******* *******.

Obama: drives by on his way to go play more ******* golf with a smile on his face.

Steve: tosses a coin, picks heads, and votes for his own ******* in protest.  They'll probably do just as good a job as any of these other **** nuts.

Good night America.  It's been real!

Take your insides and tie them in knots
Rotted guts
Spoiled and pungent
Repugnant and bitter

Forget focus on good things
Spend your time and energy on another's opinion
Empty air
Wasted time
Fading light

Hot syllables should fall to the ground
in cold air
But people still stop and stare
Mouths agape
Faces contorted
Focus gone

These words control us
Manipulate and rob us
Tie us down
Chained and bonded
Won't let go

Let it go man.
I know they hurt you
I know
you have to let it go
Chains crumbling from rust
No more mistrust
Eyes lightening
Shoulders unburdened

Joy restored to those who realize
that they are just words
Nobody's bleeding
Nobody's broken
Stand up
Dust off
Walk away
Untouched
And
Alive

Let the bitter ones who speak unkind
Die in a heap of bones and blood
Lonely
Friendless
And fallen behind the rest of us.

Moving on....

We all sat around some fire once
We all laughed and drank too much
At least one of us sang a song
At least one of us did.

Somebody was wise
Somebody else was blunt
There was a sad face amongst us
Somebody was laughing hysterically.

Someone was vigilant and kept us whole
Another one kept us informed,
While most of us laughed and carried on
And yet...time went on....

We never got a chance to all hang out together
That always brought a tear to my eyes.
But I was able to spend some time with all of you,
And it was always a bright spot in my life.

We were, all of us, together once
In a bed, a truck, a stand, or some water somewhere.
Maybe a grade school classroom
or in a kitchen elsewhere.

I'm tearfully happy to know each one of you personally
My life is complete
A fisherman at twilight
A full net of irreplaceable fish
Who I happily cast back into the sea
For the very next lucky old me.

The weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
There's nowhere to go
Nowhere to run
You're the dead they're bringing out

It's an apocalyptic utopia
Built with warnings of war
Glossed over with lies and contempt
Shrugging shoulders
Rolling eyes
Broken promises
And starving people

It all disappears with the flash
Skin falls to the ground
Sizzling
Burning
Disintegrating

We're all grease spots and shadows
Permanently painted on a page of crumbling concrete
No feet to run away
The warning call drowned out by selfishness
Frowned on by paper tigers

Then we're the glass
We're the ******* parking lot
We're the ****** ones
I paint a ***** picture, kids

I know you're rolling your eyes
And that's okay
They'll be dust soon too
The Walking Dead will be everyone else

Man!  What a way to ruin the day, eh?
What a way to sour the mood!
But I'm not laughing.
No!

I'm sad
Your so stuck in trying to stick out
You're so ****** with your history
You can't help but trip over your own feet.

You're shadows on a wall
Just as shallow
As you are fallow

I just hope the next group doesn't **** it all away
Like you
Like all the others do

I watch it time and time again
I have little hope in God's children.
Enjoy the taste of metal in your mouths again...

You're curious
Nosey
Beak cut off
Face caught in spite

I'm honest
Captive of sincerity
Only time you cared
Was when I plucked your nerve

You thought it was a feeble  finger
Talon
Knifes edge
Now you're spinning
Now you're reeling against me
Like a child against an intruder

Spinning your web
Eight legged freak
I'm a gun without a safety
Smooth criminal
at the trigger
Who's tired of your lies
It's
not funny anymore

There's no begging
There's no pleading
You're a liar
You're the liar
You are the liar
YOU!

**** your approach
You're a great way to end it all
Hide your intentions
Hide your dripping rhetoric
Behind "were not so different"

I am the epitome of difficult
And you're an atheist
I'm lost, but you're unnecessarily nihilistic.

Huh
And they call me a devil
Just because my teeth are sharper...

Maybe I should just stay at home today.
Maybe I should just throw my phone away.
I'll hide in an over grown bush
Away from all the people who push

Keep your grubby paws off me
Your sideways glances and sneers make it hard to be
Happy and so easy to be hateful
And lost; unfaithful.

I have no faith in anyone or anything but failure.
Everything we touch is another broken thing to fix.
As the days go by, my thoughts become much darker,
Because all I see is a world filled with ******* and ******!

As I sit here in my morning thoughts,
All the damages surveyed
All the ***** holding tightly in their pots
There's only one recurring theme conveyed

We'll have our cake...and we'll eat it too
We'll see this through
**** the cost!
Selfish and ******...
Anything but true....

Sitting here in my living room
It's early
Kids slumbering in their beds
Wife's at work and dogs are at rest

I've got my coffee and my phone
The television is on, but muted
Other than the din of the freeway
And the gurgling from the coffee ***,
It would be completely quiet,
Except for my thoughts

Yes!
They're a freight train
Steaming
Streaming
Barreling down some unseen track in my mind

Sometimes they come to a crashing holt
When the house settles or a dog yawns
But then they start right back up
Without so much as a warning

They switch tracks and rewind
Second guess
And remind me of something I forgot
They're loud and obnoxious
They're unruly and cacophonous

They slow down
They speed up
Shifting
Swirling
Swiftly and softly moving through me
And then spilling out of me
Out of my mouth into the air
Or out of my fingers onto a screen

Sometimes I catch them before anyone sees
Sometimes I let them hang out for all to see
Sometimes I wish I could take them back
Cast them back into the dark pit they came from, but I rarely do

It's quiet in my living room...but it's never quite silent.

Beauty painted on
A silky, silver-blue sky
With jungles
And forests
And oceans
And plains

Every creature and every living thing
Perfect in its own way
With humanity at the helm
Earth's greatest flaw
Her greatest disease
Her infectious melancholia.

No worries...
Our mother knows how to fix herself
The clothed, wretched beast
Wollowing in its own self righteousness
Dreaming that it was in charge
Ruling itself as if it were King of the universe

Who lied to them?
Who is responsible for making them feel as if they were invincible?
Perhaps it was self imposed
Perhaps they dreamt it or read it in some book they authored themselves
Perhaps their ever expanding technology
Coerced them into appointing themselves as overlords

Beautiful world
Ugly humanity
A pity
Really
The possibilities are seemingly endless
Yet they bend themselves on destruction
And selfishness

Well...
It's almost over anyway
They will be reminded
Of their own fragility soon enough
Or is there hope still?
I think there is
But only through catastrophe
Such is their way....

Poetry is the devil on your shoulder
who shot the angel by your left foot
and crushed its body underneath a boulder

Poetry is a cold blade against hot skin
it screams for BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD
when all you want to do is surrender

Poetry isn't love
it's violence
it's the tourniquet,
the ******,
the flash,
the sleep,
and the cold silence

Poetry is the lust you can't escape from
when you couldn't keep your hands off
each other;
when you woke up alone in an empty bed
and a cold spot on the pillow right beside you

Poetry isn't cute or sweet or pretty
She's tattooed with black hair and a whip
and leaves you heart broken, cold, and begging for
one
more
sip

What is poetry?
Trust me, you don't want to know her
She'll leave you standing in a median begging for change
while your friends stare at you sideways
and talk about you behind closed doors.

I wish that ***** would leave me
I wish she'd never left me
Baby!  Please don't ever leave me again...

I don't really walk anymore.
Not anymore I don't anyway.
I don't run or jump or play.
I guess you could say I drag my feet,
but they never really touch the ground,
so that's not true either.

I float, you know?
I kinda hover around
just trying to stay above it all...
just trying to rise above all the lies
just nodding my head here,
and shaking a hand there....
I hear, but I don't listen.
It's not that I don't want to,
it's just that I don't believe most of the words
that escape lying, filthy mouths.
You see, I've been down this road before.
See those boot prints right there?
Yeah, those!  They're mine man.
Yeah that's right.  
You're walking down a dirt road
that I cleared out a long time ago.
Matter of fact, I can still smell the smoke
they tried to blow up my *** long ago
like it was just yesterday man.
Oh.  Nah, man!  Don't clam up on me now!
****'s just getting interesting!
It's much more than a little entertaining
watching you squirm as you tell your silly story.

But don't worry, partner.
I ain't even mad, werd?
You must understand that I was
born for this **** right here.
No, man!
Not this job.
Not this skill set.
Not this family or city.
No, none of that, my friend.
No sir, I was born for *******.
To sift through ******* to be precise.
It doesn't really matter what you,
or he,
or she,
or anybody
throws at me.
I'm gonna take it,
break it,
shake it down,
and turn that **** into gold, man.

I promise you one thing though.
I won't share it.
I'll just keep on walking by with mine.
Dig?
True Story!
Ha!  But yeah.  Good luck with whatever it is that you're doing.
Hope it works out.
It won't, but I hope it does anyway.
Smoke-stained face from when it all blew up.
I'll just keep floating...just keep hovering right here...
untouched and alive....

You're my rock even when you're crumbling.
When I'm stumbling and mumbling,
You pick me up,
Dust me off,
And lend me your voice for clarity.

It's a rarity for me to count costs without questioning,
Because I've got a head full of hostages, and
even when I let them out slowly
One at a time
To the firing line,
You help me blow out their candles.

You're crumbling,
But I got a shovel and a bucket to put you in.
I'll carry you til my hand hurts.
I'll carry you till my knuckles bleed.
I'll find that solid rock to place you on
And build you back up again.

See,
You don't get the luxury
Of melting away...
Not today
Not ever...
No way!

For you are my rock,
and I WILL build you back up again,
Because I love you,
And I promised you I would.
And that's a promise I plan on keeping
Even if it means the end of me,
Because I love you,
And that's what you mean to me.

I've got two hands in my pockets.  One is filled with hope, peace, love, and charity.  The other one is filled with hate, anger, hopelessness, and selfishness.  I've tried and tried to put them together, but they always blow apart.  I walk around feeling like people are staring at me and my Jesus Christ on a cross pose.  It's really frustrating sometimes trying to go through doors.  I have to turn sideways...and all because my two hands won't let go of their precious cargo to meet in the center of my body.  Sometimes, when it's quiet, I swear I hear them talking to each other.  One is begging the other one to let go, while the other screams in agony.  What can I do, but sit and wait for a miracle...or a machete mishap.  One hand has so much to give, while the other wants to take away the world....