something like goodbye

Goodbye is never the way I intended this to go, thought I would be here from hello

How bittersweet you will never know, the thing deep down I cannot show.

Missed it all if not for a dream, so sad the leaving it seems

Told myself I wouldn’t cry, but I’ve told myself a million lies.

Roads that lead back, roads that appear blocked

Roads paved in gold, roads they provide the hardest knocks.

Just wanted to sit here in all this, feel you through me

Connection still around all though I am the one who is lost.

So as the past widens, the path gets a little more narrow.

lost and drowned

Over land i did travel in hopes of escaping
you and your painful memory
airports and bus stops, here and there stations
the further away the closer i got to me.
looked across the desert at the sand as it drifted
making shapes like that of your face
grabbed a handful of grains and watched them slip through my fingers
in silent soliloquy.
kept moving to get to that unihabitated zone the space they call alone
stood at waters edge and shouted profanities at the ocean
certain the waves would crash in to me
angry and bitter like bridesmaid dress without a reception
the long walk was just a deception
sat on a rock and cried a tear that wouldnt stop falling
took out a pencil and wrote it all down
sometimes lost is love that can never be found

undone by unrequited

Undone by unrequited,
Put a expectation on a feeling
Could not had known
How it might have ended
I pushed you away, only because you cared
You were the victim
Because you were there
In hindsight it was I to blame
You were but a symptom
Of my deepest shame
Unable to love like you needed
Or so I thought,
Obsession with a mind
A yearning with my heart
I could ask you to forgive
But your answer I would refuse
I can't accept me for me
So I don't know what good it could do
Just know that inside of me
You will always be a piece

Junkmail

So I’m sitting in this dark room, smoking cigarette after cigarette after cigarette. Staring at the pile of mail on the table. Left behind junkmail, junk that I have to answer, his junk. But then again I am wearing his clothes, his shoes, Christ, This might even be his bathrobe. Moved in on another mans turf, or am I just keeping the seat warm? So he can go sow his oats, sleep with some secretary or hooker, do fat lines of whatever, never having to check in while checking out . I remember I think , what that used to be like, to be free of things, things like commitment, things like meeting your obnoxious co workers at the bar, And not the cool downtown bar with its dim light, backbooths and jukebox full of blues, The uptown one with the yuppies and their bluetooths and never ending vain chatter. Things like love, things like forgetting that your favorite color is yellow, not mustard yellow but bright fucking canary yellow. The yellow that reminds me of bathroom stalls and jailhouse walls, and all those, late late night trips to the E.R.. Things like time , Remember that time when You said “lets take it slow “ Then the next morning you wrote I love you on the mirror in Red lipstick. Should have been a stop sign, a flag ,a god damn warning, right there. Things like Freedom, The freedom to fly away, To escape, to set sail. To be free like that B.M.W. on the autobahn, in the commercial, aimed at the friends, with the Bluetooth surrounded by yellow walls that sing those blues, To be free oh to be free But then who would be wearing our clothes ,our shoes ,Christ, even our bathrobe, Hell who would even answer the mail.

Man Man video (hilarious)

Two Dope Homeboys

Love the beatbox and patton....well its just mike

Double Shot

Barette Theory

I used to believe in the barrette theory. As it was told to me when I was young, the only way to protect you against the evil charms of school girls was to collect their barrettes and mail them in like proofs of purchase to an undisclosed address. Many a recess I labored with Erik Nilsson on the playground collecting our salvation. On the merry go round, during dodge ball, under the monkey bars. You see me and Erik did not want to go the way of our friends Gregg and Travis, they fell under the spell of these girls and turned sissy. They would do unspeakable things like stay in at recess and go read books in the library. We had lost our war playing buddies, our football brethren. Gregg had been the champion rock thrower in the neighborhood and Travis lived by the swamp, okay it was really a storm drain culvert, but that is where life happened it did not happen riding banana seat bikes and jumping rope. At all costs we had to get our friends back. Since I had a boatload of sisters I cheated a little and swiped a handful of these barrettes. When we had collected fifty which seemed like a good number we took the hair hooks to Njord Erik’s older brother. He had been the one who told us of the secret. He was smoking out of Erik’s parents ashtray and listening to Twisted Sister. He asked us to show him what we collected. He congratulated us on our prized booty and got out a stamped envelope. “Now run down to the Post office and drop it in the mail slot, you should hear something back in a few weeks”. We jumped on our bikes and completed the delivery. Excited we were for our friends would be back shortly. Every day we would check the mailbox hoping for a package. Nothing came except for Erin. Erin moved into school right after Halloween a notoriously bad time, that’s when the school girls would take advantage of you. You were coming down off of your sugar high weak unable to defend yourself. She sat right next to Erik, the humanity, she was there with her scissors and paste and white bread sandwiches sometimes she even had Capri suns it was not long before Erik started to want to go to the library. I was alone now, a schoolyard pariah. I tried to collect more barrettes, double my efforts , to no avail. It was too hard yanking on a girls hair by yourself. I went through my black stage. My world had crumbled. I sat by myself ignoring the world as it went by. Hoping for a communist invasion, at least I could play war.

Childliked

Bogged down in velvet I swam
mirror on the wall showed me who i am
Lost in a world so busy spinning
outside of the box was i living
Cold asphalt served as my bed
head full of resentments with hate i fed
unable to escape my innermost child
the one with the hatchet that was running wild
Screaming for justice screaming for love
Screaming for help from some god above
Who loves this child with the bluest of eyes
that crumbles apart every time you cry
Who wants to eat your pain and hurt till its gone
Who wants everyone just to get along
Who had some dreams but know they are buried
deep down inside where it is scary
Who cant play anymore in the mud and the dirt
forever been scarred by the pain and hurt

Dickel My Fancy

cigarette between my thumb and fingers
a calm comes over the length of me
a tumbler full of tennessee whiskey
taking away the pain that still lingers

a vinyl record thats been scratched to hell
plays you over and over and over again
about your cheatin heart and where its been
loneliness is the space of which i dwell

daylight would probably do my skin good
a cold shower maybe even a shave
a minute of sleep havent slept in days
if i could get up and move i would

cigarette pressed against my cracked lips
I take an inhale deep down in my chest
throw away the tumbler and drink the rest
i tilt back my head and close my eyelids

flip the record over for the last time
crush the smoke out on the living room floor
realizing i cant take this anymore
pull the trigger on a victimless crime

Friday and polliwogs

bumble bumble

bumble bumble
Such was my luck to be stuck
In a rote of heartbreak
She went walking past out of my grasp
And into the next sidewalk cafe
Unable to move a smidge or a flinch
I was looking a little out of place
I peered in the window like a bumbling wino
Only to be politely turned away
I crossed the street to find some peace
Instead found a very large puddle
I splashed like a seal before a meal
My feet were now in trouble
The sludge from the mud weighed
Exactly a ton on my boots
I asked St. Dymphna for help
She said the point was probably moot
I dug some change out of my pocket
Gathered lint and a Canadian coin
Along with two pieces of gum
That from the heat had been joined
My lopsided pants did a dance
As my hip bone started to shake
A hopeless case of even worse timing
Incidents of rejection such as these
To others might be alarming.
I got on the bus to the drivers cuss
And a few complaints about malodor
Now if they would only thank me
For once again being their transit fodder

Obtuse

Fooled myself into thinking I was normal

That my insides were not damaged

Did many things based on that assumption

Now I’m stuck in this dark space

And for the first time in my life I’m scared

What will become of me as I start to slide?

Deeper into this madness this chaos

Trying to figure out how to say goodbye

A little note seems a bit informal

The words would make me cry

Though sometimes it isn’t what it seems

No longer can I be a victim of these

Cold feeling schemes

Plans which I had no business receiving

On the outset just another trigger

A vicious attack brought on by me

Life long lived doesn’t really figure

Lonely nights and days like these

My only company is my inner demons

Who don’t ever want to leave

Sweet Juliet

Where have all the sweet Juliet’s gone?
All the princess' to rescue, the maids to save.
A woman’s gift use to be more defined.
As was the troubadour part I had to play.
Not that I was ever much of an actor.
Wasn’t much of a factor on the main stage?
If I could go back to the days of Arthur
When chivalry was alive joust with evil princes
Slay fire breathing dragons and to ride
Atop an unpronounceable white steed
Through the marshes the meadows and the dales.
Listen to minstrels sing my story accompanied by a lyre.
Guinevere wouldn't run from this mans passion
Excalibur would be pulled from the stone.
I live in the techno age the dark ones are well past gone.
What is good for only some is not meant to last
I still have my pen which lets me sit and fret
opine at all the many things come to past
And write this lament for a sweet Juliet.