Three days now
I've sipped licorice
in the afternoon.

I am, even now
as I write this,
warm in the liquor's womb.

Perhaps I judged too soon (?)


                             *mzf

I drink away the pain because I can no longer cut it out but give me a chance and I will carve your name.
I think about the day because I no longer remember the nights but give me a chance and I will forget the days too.
I smile when I remember our memories because they have always been my favorites but give me the chance and I will forget them all.

Let me stop drinking.

My friend lives
With anemia and a stomach ucler
With the past of an alchoholic father and an abusive brother
With emotionally abusive ex-girlfriends
Who sometimes plays the butler
With a crammed-full-to-the-seams schedule
With a previous eating disorder and cutting
With the mind of a genius
With the heart of a saint
With the hands of an artist
With a bevy of friends, willing and eager to help
With freedom and a job
With with me, Wyatt, Julia, and Tom on the other end of the phone
Waiting for his call for help
But he is so quiet, pushed into a world of silence, dark, and miserable art
He shelters himself from all, and so we hover nearby
Searching for a crack in the walls of his dungeon, but all we find is a window
He holds the key, but does not yet realise it
So we coaxe and console and soothe, vocalising our concerns and aid
Reaching towards him to pull him away, to touch his heart with the
Hope that a gentle caress, a well placed sweet stroke of kindness may
Free him from his torment
But as of yet, we are still trying

Mhmm...
Mhmm... yea!
Mhmm... ey-yeah-ey yeah yeah yeah mm... mhmm

Mhmm... mhmm...
Mhmm... yea! yeah
Mhmm... ey-yeah-ey yeah yeah mm mm, mhm

Hey, yea-yea, yeah-eh-yeah-eh, yeah-eh-yeah-eh
Hey hey-yea-eh yeah, mhmm

Professional or beginner doesnt matter
Every sinner is a prisoner in a body that is subject to time
Now my entwined mind tries to form a straight line
not like twised scoliosis of the spinal chord

Construct
Cross eyed carpenters are cuttin' crooked lines
Can't construct
man-made shrines when the winds and the water move sands of time

Many minds on a deadline, yet live life like a live wire
I'm not tired!
Of blood and fire
Spirit's moving higher than the green grass ever lifted me

Spirit's moving higher...
Than anything else ever lifted you
Mm, see

We got spirituality
It's living in us like one in three
Injustice is concerning me
in the non-linear eternity
I'm speaking paradoxically
but you can nod your head now when you understand me-e-e-ee...

This is for my free men
whose backs wont bend in the lions den
now with their eyes on the ending

This is for my free women!
They fight with their love
The bearers of our children

Free men whose backs wont bend in the lions den
now with their eyes on the ending

This is for my free women
They fight with their love
The bearers of our children

We shine like lights exposing
what lies underneath decomposing
Unearth those chains that are rusted
my sweet Lord, is that what i trusted in?
That sin? That tomfoolery? Ugh!
What it is is mental jewelery that I adorned myself with

The enemy's gifts, the man-made myths, the ignorant bliss
of marijuana spliffs and alchoholic fifths
I got so sick and tired of it

Delivered and redeemed
by christ i mean
It's time to start livin'
and get a reason for the rhyme

I dont wanna be dead-wrong on the deadline
Standing on the dark side and all out of time...
Like a blind pantomime's fantasize
climb up his own ladder to the sunshine

Nothin's mine
that hasn't been given
No one's alive here
that hasn't been risen
For 19 years i was trapped in a prison

Feeding my escape by means of derision
but every man-made attempt just failed
when trapped in a jail
of my own guilt, shame, and iniquity

I was looking for freedom
How'd I find freedom?

Oh! Oh, freedom...
from all of this

He said believe
He said believe

Who are you telling me to belei-e-eve... yea
'Said I'm the Christ

Oh!
...he said I'm the Christ

So I believed.

Freedom!

Mhmm... yea
Mhmm... ey!
Mhmm... ey-yeah-ey yeah yeah yeah eh, mhmm

Mhmm... Hey! No, no no
Mhmm... yea!
Mhmm... Yea ey-yeah-ey yeah yeah mhm,

Nah na-na-nah

A broken home,
Mothers ******,
Schizophrenic father,
Forever arguing.

Alchoholic parents,
Supposive "carers",
We may seem happy,
But I promise you, we are not.

Suicidal daughter,
Her body she slaughters,
With blades and bleeds onto her mattress.

Youngest sister,
Always missing,
She's always so angry,
This is not a family.

We go on,
Day to day,
Arguing away,
Portraying ourselves happy,
But dying inside sadly.

What happens behind closed doors,
Will never be revealed,
The floor gets wripped up,
And the ceiling caves in.

Suicidal daughter,
Cuts herself again,
Before getting the rope,
And standing on the chair,
She writes some notes,
Then burns them,
Never to see her "family again".

She takes a leap of faith,
Into hope and grace,
Of a new life,
And a new happy family.

I was born in Puerto Rico
I grew up with an alchoholic abusive father
He would hurt my mom
We came to the USA when I was 5
To get away from him
My mother found a better man
When I was 7 we wrent back
Around that time
I developed an ear infection
It was very noticeable
Every one would avoid me
I had no one to talk to
At age 9 I had my first surgery
It fixed my infection
I had a scar that grew behind my ear
People thought I had a worm or something
So again I was alone
After a while I had another surgery
To remove the scar tissue
To fix my inner ear
They fixed my ear although I lost
65% of my hearing in one ear
But the scar tissue grew back
A year after I had my last surgery
To remove the tissue
I would need steroid shots in my ear
I got a got a couple of shots
But the insurance wouldn't cover more
So it eventually grew back
I started to grow my hair
So to cover my ears
My junior year of high school
I noticed the scar had shrunk
I felt better about my self
So I got a nice hair cut
A new style a new me
Except I was very shy
I guess I still am
Theres alot more to write
But I'll leave it for another day
I will say
I suffered through alot of things between all that
Much like most teenagers do
Bullying, anxiety, acne, feeling alone, thoughts of suicide, self harm, rejection, and more
But I never gave up hope
I know there are people out there
That have it worse
But it does get better
It sounds so cliché to say that
But its true

When i was a kid
I thought i was the ****
Alchoholic wanna be
More ****** up
Than you or me
Who am i?
Is this a dream?
Blissful wishful
Wanna bee
9th grade
Started ****
Depression made me
Lead to lean
Clean cut
Double cup
Every night
I'd get ****** up
Who i was
Is who i am
But less drugs
Am i a man?
Just hidin it
I'm still a kid
Crack my top
Pop my lid
Underneath
You'll see what's hid
All the things that
I done did
Never wanna see again
Those memories
I need stitches
This bleedin wont
Start stopping
Now the dripping's
Got me dropping
Got me pleeding
Barely breathing
Touched my head
Felt the pain
So ****** up
My fall to fame

Im being evicted
My heart has already left
The alchoholic's conundrum
Love unreciprocated

Every Christmas Day in the tiny town of Niwot, Colorado, the Niwot Tavern (and Restaurant) opens its doors all afternoon to all-comers (3 shifts) and serves for free a full Christmas Day dinnrer (this is not a picnic) to all lucky enough to make it inside during one of the three shifts. Those serving the "customers" are the owners who spend their whole (long) day in the kitchen preparing all the food (e.g. prime rib, ham, etc.);  the children who take the orders;  and the teenagers who deliver the different meals and (non-alchoholic) drinks.

Christmas Day, 2016, I was one of the lucky ones to get in. I was by myself. I was 74. No seating was assigned. At right-angles to me sat down a beautiful, young woman. Her name, I was to find out, was Yana (a Russian name). She had spent her early years there, eventually moving to the United States with her family. Almost instantly, we began chatting. She, I found out, was 32. The age difference didn't seem to matter at all. We talked about everything, non-stop. We almost forgot to eat our meals. I had never experienced like this before. Instant rapport. No, something even deeper than that:  it was as though we had known each other eternally, not chronologically, not physically, but spiritually.

Yana now lives in Massachusetts on the ocean. We continue to com-
municate from time to time, mostly by phone or email. I have known this young woman, as bright as she is beautiful, that if you counted up the hours we have chatted, the sum of which equals not even a day.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

https://youtu.be/L7mFYO3UDy4?feature=shared

The Real and Learned say what we know
as what we know is real and true
for lies and chicanery is not for the Enlightened

In bellowing red fog and sick lame minds
poisoners arrow barbs and threats
we'll do your head in and f--k you to paranoia

Alchoholic thieves and ignorant racists
labels a gainfully employed parasite
whilst on Unemployment Disability & Child Benefits

These sick hate drenched pathetic racists
fingers an honest quiet humble man
look he thinks he's it and he thinks he's better than us

Quiet man is one that talks legs off donkey
he's mad, weird loony and deluded
these are their confessions through all their projections

The wise know their ploys in clear plain sight
attack best form of defense says thieves
every thing they do to others tells us all we need to know
about them