ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER SUICIDE NOTE TO THE WORLD --- Fiction

Slack jaw, middle of a suicide, in that part of town, poor man's place to die, to be found, gun by the side, clenched in his hand, bottle of Jack nearby.

Where were the medics?

Nobody wanted to come to this part of town, if only he had died on the west side, the rich man's section of middle town USA, where each place had a pool to drown.

I was sitting on the sidewalk, watching the world go bye.

Or maybe by.

There was a bag in my hand, paint fume, huffing my cares away, killing my brain one cell at a time.

We had guns; or access to them, it was easier to get gun than it was food stamps.

Mary Anne stood outside the bus depot, selling her soul one hour at a time, later on, she'd stop by and see me.

"Can I have a puff?" she'd ask as I passed the bag to her.

We'd do harder drugs if we could get our hands on them, sitting there till midnight, one o clock, passing the time staring into the sky, watching the stars flash across the sky.

I had a place; an abandoned building over on Fifth street, where, if we could stand, we'd make our way to, crash hard onto the shit stained mattress on the floor.

We'd awake before noon to restart the whole process.

Back to the street grind, to find ourselves, to lose our soul, one brain cell at a time.

Sometimes a reporter from the local news would make his or her way "Down to the street" to see how the other half lived, those forgotten people, the street people; insane, driving away, ready to die on a call, whatever.

One showed up one day; Cindee, she was new, trying to make her face the answer to whatever.

"How long have you been on the street?" she asked me.

"Forever!!" I said, nodding, taking a huff off of my bag.

My mind was still there.

Jack, the local insane poet, laughed.

"We were fucking born here!!" he said, patting the ground, "Our mother, the fucking Goddess of Huff!! Like a hit? For a good lead into your story?'

She smiled and politely declined and moved on, to more saner grounds.

"Bitch didn't even ask me what my turn ons were!!" Mary pouted.

We all laughed.

We were like tears in the rain, washed away, never to be seen, if we were even there, washed away from existence.

But here we still laid, a shade of our former self, lost in our ways, but still here.

Neurotic Erotica - THINGS TO DO WITH A...A LETTER TO PENTHOUSE

Dear Penthouse,

Hi!

How are you?

I am fine, thanks for asking.

This is my third time writing you, my second time placing said letter into envelope and my first time actually putting it into the mailbox!

Email?

What's that?

Anyways, I am sitting here, at 8:08 pm on October 2nd, 2018, the laptop is in my lap and you know what is on my mind!

Playing a game of Hello Kitty Adventure Island!!

Yay!!

Sex?

Mama told me sex leads to all kinds of problems, like anal bleeding and warts, who needs that!!!

I imagine sex feels like rubbing your pee pee with sand paper and then throwing some vinegar on it.

My Uncle Clint, he lost his penis to sex.

He was just laying there minding his own business.

In a woman's bed that wasn't his wife.

Aunt Tilda storms in, breaking down the door and shoots old Uncle Clint in the penis, straight as a bird flies sober, like my mama says.

And the doc, old Doc Smith, just couldn't save it, Aunt Tilda used some buck shoot, done split the pee pee ten times to Sunday.

That's when I learned that a man's penis is very sacred to him cause old Uncle Clint just started crying and sobbing when Doc told him, WE CAN'T SAVE YOUR WILLY WHACKER!!!

So anyways, it ain't too bad being a virgin at 49.

Mama says I'd be a horrible daddy anyways.

Anyways, that's my letter, hope you like it,

Your friend in Jesus,

Hank

WHAT IS YOUR GENDER? COULD I BE A NON-GENDER ALIEN BEING?

WHAT IS YOUR GENDER?

A random blog on a really touchy subject - COULD I BE A NON-GENDER ALIEN BEING?

So for awhile, I've been taking online surveys for pennies, gives me enough for beer and candy.

During the initial questions, it always asks WHAT IS YOUR GENDER?

Simple question right?

You'd be wrong if you answered YES!! I KNOW WHAT MY GENDER IS!!!

Do you?

Really?

Over the years I've had to fill out forms and such for different things and back in the day, it was an easy decision ---

[ ] MALE
[ ] FEMALE

Easy right?

Outie.

Innie.

Then as a confusing point to the whole "WHAT IS YOUR GENDER?" the [  ] OTHER box appeared.

Other??

"What the hell? Other? Does that mean they have their penis in their butt?" as my father would say looking at the question.

I had no answer as I checked male.

Then as the years moved on, the other was replaced with a multiple range of answers from non-binary fluid to I'm a kangaroo.

I've been told, quite angrily, "People evolve, drift away from stereotypes of male or female, an oppressive definition limiting humanity to what they were born as based on body parts!! Stop being such an old fashion enabler to an ancient system, CHANGE!!"

I then slap the person; call them a pig f*cker and wander off for ice cream.

No matter the issue, the ice cream will solve it!!

"Unless you're lactose intolerant!! ENABLER!!"

I think I'll go take a nap!! Wake me up when we hit [ ] I HAVE NO CLUE, GIMME ICE CREAM!!

HOW I SAVED THE WORLD FROM AN ALIEN INVASION - or not!!! Stories from Area 51 and a half!!!

September 5th, 2018 - Louisville, Kentucky

Dear Reader, I decided to take a walk down to the Family Dollar store to buy tasty cheese burgers and spicy chicken sandwiches for dinner; it was a humid night but the walk helps me get my mind figured out as it has been a jumble of stuff lately.

As I walked; the usual hand out asking fellows approached me; pushing their hands out in front of me.

I try not to judge but being a broke ass fellow myself, I try to tell them to "Fuck off!" without using those actual words.

I have told my own story of being a homeless person in previous episodes; mostly I slept under a tree for a month and a half while working at a Safeway store; it was fun for about ten seconds but I wouldn't do it again unless some TV network wanted to pay me a million dollars to relive the excitement.

And even then I would want some hot co-stars to be announced later.

As I kept moving; I heard someone yelling towards me.

"Excuse me sir!" he said, approaching me, flipping his wallet out for me to inspect.

"My name is Rob, social security number ###-##-####!"

"Okay, hi Rob!!"

I was thinking I was being detained by a member of the Air Force in some weird sting operation.

"Could you help me in obtaining a meal?"

"Sorry sir, I'm living the dream myself!"

I would have continued my conversation with this fellow but soon he spotted another fellow; a man in a 'Latin Food Truck' and approached him, showing him his ID and repeating his social security number for some odd reason.

And that's how I saved the world from an alien invasion or something.

THE WIND AS SEEN BY LIFE - A BEAT POEM AS INSPIRED BY A READING

THE WIND AS SEEN BY LIFE - A BEAT POEM AS INSPIRED BY A READING

The wind swept through the lands; 

We were but ants spread against the shifting sands,

That life,

There,

Spread free, 

From the boat we ran,

Alive in our fight,

Some soon,

To be dead.

There was a silence among the ravens; the hills were bloodied; the spirits gone.

Who was standing against the rage?

The city lights burned brightly, 

Alley ways strewn with broken glass;

The business men;

High polished shoes;

Ties;

Catch the 4:45 to evening supper;

High,

In that blight;

I swim into the sea;

It is night;

Kings;

Flying free,

Degenerates in the flop;

Flipping off the man;

Smoking; 

Dusty roof tops;

The clock;

Tick

Tock!

A pawn shop; 

Down that street,

Falling downwards,

Into a spin,

I'm still walking;

Those electric youths;

Trying to find;

Themselves,

Falling backwards,

Into clockworks,

The gears of society,

Grinding them,

Into pieces,

Everyone was dead,

His soul was dead,

That soul,

Where did it go?

Plan man, getting on the plan, to see if I can find life; the fuck!

That is the plan; man; to fuck, to see, to get out, to get on, to fly into the sea!!

"Shit!!"

I was drinking with the brightest of the insane.

College students were pushed up against the wall; trying to kill those brain cells at $3.00 a shot.

"Fuck!"

The words slipped from his tongue before he realized what was going on.

A fist to his lips.

He dropped to the floor.

Wham!

Blam!

Was he dead yet?

Coke heads in the streets; trying to catch a cab to home.

"Screw off!" Sam yell; his unkempt hair sprawling off to all sides; the drivers flipped him off in return and then spat in his general direction as they sped off.

We were walking; the broken sidewalks tripped us every few steps with the chipped cement.

"We should go and see Sid, he's has the shit!!" Carl said; trying to catch himself in mid trip.

I nodded.

It was a mile and a half to Sid's place.

Fifth street.

Sid was a good clean kid but he sold the best stuff; whatever you needed he had.

We made it to his place; at his mom's house.

"He's in the back boys!" she said, smiling and went back to her rum and coke.

We moved back.

"Well boys, do we have a party?" Sid smiled and motioned to us.

We sat.

Two lines of cocaine for each.

Sleep.

Catch a break.

Silence.

Flee.

Feel.

Are we alive?

Madness,

Caught in the door,

Wandering through,

Fly,

High.

We found ourselves later; outside, down the street, trying to catch a cab.

They never stopped.

One of the few girls in the group drove by.

"Need a ride!" she giggled.

We all got in.

Movement.

Flying still,

That road,

Underneath,

Trying to make us fall,

From that Lord's grace...

"Are you okay Johnny?" I heard her saying, shaking me from some awful dream.

I felt okay; lying there in some drug induced sleep; booze infested sores inside my brain trying to move outside, to take over that scene.

I could smell her sex; and my own body tried to respond.

"Pervert!" she giggled, slapping me teasingly.

Call out;

Oh sinners of the streets,

Your fleeing moments,

Ripe to be plucked,

To be thrown into the muck,

If we do not die tonight,

May we live for tomorrow!

I told her that I loved her; she was my only light.

"I love you more!" she replied, smiling, almost laughing in evil delight.

I couldn't feel my body but still there I stood; looking into her face, into her soul.

The wind,

As seen by life,

To be felt,

Till tomorrow,

Which shall never come,

Today will never end...

WHATEVER DOESN'T KILL YOU - A look into a demented writer's head

Whatever doesn't kill you, makes you wish you were dead. 

Anyone else having issues with their life?

Yeah, me neither.

So here I am, sitting, wondering, looking, early morning, I'm usually not up at this hour writing, but it seems like a good thing to do, to push the poison from the system and release into the world.

Angry pelicans on the streets of LA, looking for a fix, or tuna, or maybe a halibut,

Maybe in another life, I could be someone awesome, instead of this, whatever I am.

Planets align, then drift back away, trying to find center of nowhere, which, if you think about it, is near impossible.

It's 6:53 in the morning, few people wander about, looking for egg and sausage biscuit sandwiches and a large orange juice, somewhere, someplace, people laugh, drinking strong coffee, waiting for the sun to rise.

Misery loves company.

So they say.

I reach up, stretch, trying to grab space, to pull myself up, emotionally, Heaven seems so far away.

I fail.

I might go for a walk; to watch, to see, to hear, to feel the ground beneath my feet...

Satin Sheet on a Nail Bed - A Bar Fiction

The breeze was soft; like satin sheets on a nail bed.

"You ole sunuvabitch, how youse been?" Ole Charley said from the bar door, holding it open for me as I slowly marched down the side walk, heading home from work.

"I've been better!" I said, making a detour to a stool, next to the old beaten bar.

Ole Charley was dying, like we all were, but he'd be dying sooner rather than later, the consumption eating up his lungs, the mine had killed him before he ever decided to retire at 42.

"Damn boss man came in here, thinking he was going to get a brew!" he growled. "I knocked him flat on his ass!! And got three rounds of cheers from the bar!"

I laughed.

The jukebox was playing a sad song, something about a lover dumping them for a chicken lover or a rooster sucker.

I ordered a beer, three, two of them chased with a whiskey.

The bar was filled with the usual misfits; old men drinking their liver into a stupor.  Funny men hiding from their wives, all killing their pay checks on whiskey and beer before their wives found out.

A few wives were here and there, deciding it was easier to join rather than battle, their own livers being killed off.

A homeless man was there, a traveler who got stuck here back in 1979.

He worked some of the stores; sweeping the side walks of the leaves, dirt and dust that came rolling down from the Hill.

In the winter, he'd disappear for those months, too cold to find a sleep, when it was time.

"I head down to the heat..." he winked when asked where he went for his winter vacation. "I like the heat but you people make me laugh, so I come back in the spring!"

There was always a drunken fight, later on in the night, Tom Sheldon, the sheriff, would break it up, buy the combatants a drink, pat each on the back and say in his deep voice, "Be good and the rounds are on me!!"

Two years ago; the town was a buzz, Mickey Malone, a drunk and a crude human being, was shot to death right at the corner there by his mistreated wife.

"He beat me every night!" she growled, the gun still in her hand.

She got off with a warning never to do that again.

Tonight was a quiet night, just an argument over who had the best football team; everyone knew it was West High followed by them losers over at East.

"Last call!" the bartender yelled and we all laughed.

There was never a last call; 24 hours, as the mines ran, as the prostitutes did down the "Block".

There was talk, every election year, to make this town a better place; shut down the brothels, curb the bars to close at 2 am, not opened on Sunday, that would be church time, but the miners, a rugged bunch, wouldn't hear it.

"We need something to do between shifts!" they growled at the reverend who thought he could tame the Hill.

He got ran out by the train tracks.

"Go back east you cock fool!!!"

And we went back to drinking.

Memories - POEM

Memories slide into the brain,
Seeping into that dream,
Majestically impending doom,
Seeping into the life,
And there I stood,
Frozen there,
In that spot,
Trying to move,
Legs done melted.

I felt her spirit leave me,
Her body lifeless,
I could not feel my own limbs,
I felt my own soul wanting to leave.

Memories,
Like a sharp knife,
Ripping into flesh,
Tearing out the rest,
Corrupting the good,
In the mind's eyes,
Tears roll from my eyes,
Memories.

Here I sit,
Years roll by,
Tears still flow by,
Memories,
To follow me
As I walk this road
Called life,
Memories...

An ode to a War Long Done Fought - A POEM

Note to self: every night, I try to settle down and write a few words, to clear the mind and then, I hit publish, just so the world knows to stay away from me as I am slowly going insane since 1971.

My mind began to wander away as soon as I cleared the womb and has been gaining speed in that runaway since seeing the edge of daylight!

So here I sit, in a comfy chair, the TV playing, I don't know what I will write tonight, my mind comes closer to me, wanting to think and make me wonder where I am going from here.

Possibly New Jersey.

So here I go, to write!

AN ODE TO A WAR LONG DONE FOUGHT - A POEM

There in the silence of night,

I swore that I could see the devil's eyes gazing into my soul,

The bombs dropped from the air,

Exploding around us,

The screams of the men,

Torn away from their bodies,

To be thrown into the ground,

The war would end for them,

A blessed cross,

A draped flag,

There,

On that bloody ground,

But for us,

The living,

We marched into the fray,

Our guns held high against an enemy,

We could not see,

Brothers in humanity,

We marched forward,

Kill,

Death,

We heeded the call,

Held the cause,

Closely to our hearts,

The Father Land needed us,

To be that blood upon the ground,

Forward, 

March,

Die,

Kill,

We continued forward,

To take the ground,

To give the ground,

To become the ground.

The living,

Dead inside,

Nightmares of those falling bombs,

Those guns,

Their mind,

Their worst enemies!

Their souls drenched,

They dare not sleep,

Perchance to dream,

Of long dead,

War, 

That,

In a never ending stream,

Will still haunt,

Their memories!

And there,

In a dream,

A scene,

A dove does scream,

And awake,

My solider boy,

To live again,

To breathe...

10 Best Places to die Happy -- or not!

So these lists; best places to eat, best places to find love, etc. seemingly get the views when it comes to blogging so in an attempt to garner more views for this blog and maybe make a nickel or ten, I have decided to write my own top ten lists!!

This time, the blog will be called

10 BEST PLACES TO DIE HAPPY! (Or not!!!)

And for some listening pleasure, Talking Heads - Psycho Killer because why the hell not, so sit back, put your feet up and enjoy the read.

Next time, we'll have the 10 best comic books to bring into a men's restroom in Cleveland, Ohio!!!

The criteria for this was based on many scales ----

1. Was it able to be Googled by the blogger at the time of the writing of this article. If so, could Blogger remember how to spell it?

2. Would it be funny in reference to death as a humorous topic? If so, it made the list!

3. Was it featured on a 60 minutes segment for such a thing as having horrible nursing homes, etc? If so, HELLO LIST!!!

So here you go!!!!

---1--- Centralia PA : A coal fire has been burning underground since at least the early 1960s!! What says, "HELLO!! I'M READY TO DIE!!" than a coal fire.  The town has been almost completely abandoned so no need to worry about over crowding.

---2--- Rachel NV: Aliens!!! Area 51!!! What more do I have to say! If you don't die from a laser rifler then you can be abducted and brought aboard the mother ship. Won't your mother be so f*ckin happy!??

According to their website, the gas station is closed and the nearest one is about 50 miles south. Plan accordingly!

---3--- Cincinnati OH:  Okay, first off, Cleveland rocks but Cinncy is where it is at, there's an abandoned subway system that was planned over a 100 years ago but never used, where, if you lucky, you could crawl into and die!!!

There's also a zoo! Win - Win!! Also, go to Cleveland and tell em I sent you for 50 cents off a burrito!! 

---4--- Butte MT:  First off, I must disclose that the blogger is from this fine town, so when it is time for him to die, he will make his way back here to take his last breath and his final words being,
"Wha?"  

You can also come check out a huge open pit that is filling with toxic water!! Best lake ever!!!!

---5--- Niagara Falls NY: Wanna go over the falls in a barrel? Who doesn't!! Come on, go old school and die in a barrel!!!!

DO IT YOUR WAY!!!! Growl like Sid Vicious!!!!! Or not!!!!!

---6--- Any Podunk Town USA: Does it have a liquor store and a Walmart? You have found paradise, may you live forever in this wonderment that is Heaven!!

What? Don't believe me? DIE NOW!!!!

---7--- Paris TX : If you can't make it to Paris, France, there's always Paris, Texas (along with other cities in the U.S. named Paris!!!) There's even a replica of the Eiffel Tower!! Enjoy your death without leaving the country!!! 

Now for some interlude music - RAMONES - I WANNA BE SEDATED!!!!!  

---8--- Truth or Consequences NM : Ever wanted to die in a town renamed for a popular radio show in the 1950s? Who hasn't!!  Tell them The Shadow sent you to be ran out of town by angry town folks!!!

They also have some hot springs. 

---9--- Trenton NJ: What list wouldn't be complete without Trenton. Smell the magic should be their motto as well as "So ya wanna die? Come to Trenton!! We got you covered!!" Tell them you think they have pretty eyes and get a free drink of your choice!!

---10--- Fresno CA:  And coming in at number 10, the city that needs no introduction as it has been on many a fine lists, FRESNO CALIFORNIA, home of the famous news agency THE LESBIAN LUNCH and the fine toy maker company, RASBO!!  

People of Fresno will welcome you with open arms and a bottle of Jack Daniel.

No wait, that's a different city in Kentucky!!! But still, Fresno is a good place to go to die!!!

So there you have it, the top ten places to die happy. Or not. 

So good night and have a better tomorrow!!!!!

AND IN THAT END, WE HEARD THE SHOTS - A Poem

A new reality, there inside my mind, whispers in the wind, a new secondary life, swept among the rapids of society, tossed away, thrown away, giving up on, freedom is just a phase.

2029 - All human life is estranged.

"Where are we now?" cried the masses, one by one, trying to see out of the train.

There were no answers.

"We the people..."

We are machines, plowing through the dirt, the earth, to return to that earth, someday.

We all fear that day, constantly looking over our shoulders, marching to that end, step by step, the wind blowing into our face, slowing our ventures.

"March!" the guns pressed into our back.

There, into the Grace of God, we go, to line up against that wall, our shame, our blood, to be spilled on the ground, shot down as animals, to hear that last roar, the bullets ripping into our flesh, we are called dogs, we are called animals, but still we stand tall.

We feared that this day would come soon.

We were warned that it would come soon.

But we dared not listen, to fear, that end, to slip into the sweet waters and drown our fears, to be held by that river's embrace, no man could harm us, no man dared.

None of God's children could be slaves.

We were free.

We could not be sad here, in this place, a refuge from the cursed war, but here, we stood, against a hard, cutting wall, the soldiers, glaring, sneering, their rifles raised.

This was the end.

"Ready..."

The Sargent called out.

Some of us cried.

Some closed their eyes; to hope and pray, to wake from this nightmare.

Others held their heads high. 

"We shall meet again..." old men said, trying to calm the others.

"Aim..."

The end was close; near, our blood, oh God, save us from this fear.

"Soon!" a voice said, there, in our mind.

"Fire!"

And in that word, we heard the shots fired and then nothing...

Cyberpunk is dead - A study on Random thoughts

Cyberpunk is Dead
A study on Random Thoughts.

Cyberpunk, undefined, is dead, that prose, cyberspeak, the random character at the bar, drinking gin, at Chatsubo, it all is dead.

Don't try to make a movie, don't try to revive it, it is dead, RIP, sleep that deep sleep of no wakening, to dare not dream, kaput.

How did it die??

Killed itself during a electro rave, a suicide by electroshock.

It went quietly, without fare, just as it lived, dancing wildly on the dance floor, then, bam, that was it.

Some will speak at its funeral; William Gibson will take a match and light the corpse ablaze.

A ratty rag holding bar tender will pour drinks to over wrought mourners who will cry, WHAT WILL REPLACE CYBERPUNK?????

Nothing will.

Or everything will.

Maybe disco will.

Wait, isn't it dead too?

Future shock. 

Don't turn on the TV

CYBERPUNK IS DEAD......

LIFE AND TIMES OF A DRUNK - a bar hopper's tale

Notes - inside, that place, we see the world spinning, faster, faster, highly revolving through space,
TIME,
A smoke at the bar, 1987, drinking gin, with ice, cold, drunken ramblings with some bar wench.

Her name is Sally.

She's 42, lifeless eyes, dancer in her mind, working on an ulcer, diseases unheard of by the religious minds.

Two more rounds, we'll need em.

Jack is dying, born dying.

I'd call him.

"It's me, Ward..."

We stand, Sally and I, head to restroom, stall, I lift her skirt, drop her panties.

I feel her hands unzip my pants.

This is Heaven.

This is Hell.

I wake up, how'd I get home?

Sally's lying naked next to me.

Her deep red lipstick smeared over her face.

I stand, stumble, damn fucking hang over.

Make it to the bathroom, toilet is my friend, I pay it in kind by throwing up.

Out there, in the city, people are still asleep.

I very rarely sleep, Ive tried, to close my eyes, shutdown my mind.

Wait.

Who writes the tales??

Jack was dead, dying, trying to live, was he even born??

Fly on the wall.

Shit.

I had to be at work.

Or was I fired two days ago??

Glance at my phone, 12 unanswered emails, all from WORK, I click fuck it and head back into dreamless slumber.

I wake up to the smell of bacon.

Eggs.

Coffee??

Maybe I died and this is Heaven?

Sally is aglow, hung over, but aglow.

"Morning lover!" She smiles.

Grumble.

Bar time, I put on my coat.

"No breakfast?" She pouts.

I shrug. "I need gin..."

Solo drifting through dirty streets, wandering past daytime zombies and the nighttime wrecks heading to who knows where.

Another day.

I sip my first drink.

The fifth I down.

"Troubles?" The bar tender asks.

"Not a one..." I lie and down three more.

The New Reality - Letter to home

The New Reality - Letter to home

Oh how could they, destroy that beautiful place inside our minds?

Deep moonlit scapes, wonderous pool under the waterfall.

I was sitting in a chair, mindless and speechless, a husk of my former self, staring at the four walls.

You were gone.

You have been gone more than ten years.

Or so they tell me.

I don't remember anymore.

The medications make it all surreal, a dream, if I remembered it, I might kill myself.

Sickness in a mind, reports say, I could be quite sane and it is the rest of the world that's mad.

I try to tell the doctors here that.

Maybe they are the sociopyschotic mad men in their deep starched white coats meandering room to room looking for something to cure their sickness, writting it down on their clipboards.

Angry suicidal, homicidal, I have become, or would, if the medications wouldn't step in and protect the idiots at the supermarket.

Blocking the aisles, chattering like rats over some dead issue, tissues?

Who cares.

I just want my box of cereal.

Toasty oats.

With raisins.

Anyways, tomorrow, if I'm good, the nurses say I can have two cookies with my apple juice.

Anyways, good night Mom, I'll write more later, I love you,

Your son,

George

My hopes and dreams

My dreams are very little.

All I want is enough to live on, maybe a beach house, where I can lay on the beach, watch the waves come in, write poetry to some senator while my dog Angel growls at the bar keep who happens to be black.

I want to have six sons and a daughter named Steve.

I'd like to run for President for the United States on the stance everyone is created equal, no one should go hungry or not have a roof, maybe be educated.

It seems no one gives a hoo, but, they do.

I want all my friends and family to be happy too.

Is that too much to ask?

A LETTER TO THE FUTURE - WE SORRY

Dear future,

Right now, you're probably reading about this time in your history holograms.

We're sorry.

We tried to create a better world with our guns, our nukes and a circus we called Walmart.

I'll assume Walmart has taken over as Lord and Master unless Amazon has then well, HI AMAZON!!

I'll assume the next President of the United States, a lounge singer from Las Vegas, was a step up from the current man, an ex game show host.

We're sorry he started World War Three through Five.

We're hoping the porn we left behind is a shining example of our society.

We're still hoping it sticks on our current President.

And not in that way.

Anyways, how's things over there for you?

I hope good for you.

Anyways, don't blame me, I voted for gin in 2016.

Your friend

Some long dead dude

P.S.

Send winning lotto numbers, thank you.

NATIONAL PRIDE AND THE BUILDING OF A DREAM SET ASIDE - Fiction?

A nation so divided even on the simpliest of simple ideas cannot stand for long.

Even this thought, those words, could be decreed as being traitous to that which is held holy, national pride.

National pride can be corrupted into hatred for those outside the defined box within that nation, to be placed in a defined enemy of the state because of the colors of your eyes.

Religion, its own dividing rod, can be used to hate, even when that religion is based on peace and love.

We, the people, divide ourselves based on point a, then, point b and on and on until we shatter into billions of shards, to cut, to bleed, those who come in our footstep, to further divide the future.l, into blight.

Instead of building a better future, we destroy it, wars, famine, disease, hatred.

Instead of building that path to a glorious future, we build walls, we shut our eyes and bathe in madness.

We create our own madness, letting our cups over run with it, killing in the name of Jesus, Amen!

We march.

Our children march.

And on and on, for that nation, which gave us our lives, we kill, we die, in hope that we are right.

No more death, we hope, that war to end all wars, but then, the next one comes, new ways to kill, each side thinking they are right, a national pride.

Is it wrong to have pride?

No, but how do we know which side, if either, is right?

My country is my country but there is so much more, out of our reaches, from our sight, we shall never see, unless we drop, some of that national pride.

Again, these words could be construed as traitous, to be executed by that mob who screams in national pride.

One world, one hope.

I know it is all a dream, a fantasy, but maybe someday, that dream could be realized.

ARE YOU OKAY? A random poem in memory.

ARE YOU OKAY? A random poem in memory

Mister, are you okay?
Little kid,
Standing on the street,
Silent night,
Oh what a night,
1978,
Bombs bursting in air.

She, that horror love story breakup tease, nightmares in clever monotone speech,
Candles burning in solemn refuge,
Seamless, scenes, cut out of Time magazine,
She lies in pale moonlight,
Pale skin,
Star brushed blue eyes,
Sacrifice,
Eight rows high,
First kiss at a ball game,
First blowjob at a swap meet.

Mind fuck,
A disease,
To find,
A bitter end,
Quickly released
Into the wild.

A warped sense of destiny on your knees,
Laughing at distorted images,
Projected on the screen.
Just finding myself,
On that road,
To misery,
To light,
To happiness,
To sorrow,
In memories.

Oh how I wish it was me,
Who made her smile,
That special day,
2003,
Vacations on the moon,
Love beyond that midnight sky,
Looking into heaven,
Plans of future,
Shattered.
Broken like glass,
Ripped apart,
Thrown to the winds,
Like seeds,
Dead upon arrival,
Dawn to days,
Back to evenings,
Squares trying to be hip,
Standing in the square,
Snorting coke off mirrors,
Dollar bills,
All alone in a flat,
You okay?

6 am,
Saturday mourn,
Licking old wounds,
With Jim Boom,
That cheap shit,
City dead,
Sleeping in a cardboard box,
Rejection letter,
Five minute read,
Too long.
So long.
Final notice,
Overdue,
Lettuce wilted,
Got it from a garbage can
From behind the Safeway store,
Same with the meat,
The world too.

So long,
Live well,
I shall see you,
There,
On the hallow streets,
Free,
Wind beneath your wings,
Making it, smiling,
Wave,
Then run away,
Fly away,
See the sea,
Dear John,
Goodbye....

Everything has worth - even a turd!

I walk the streets of a rich, artsy neighborhood.

Trust kids writing and painting, Ive moved up from my living under a tree days.

There's still homeless people, even though our President and his supporters say the job market is doing great.

I was homeless.

I had a job.

I was making 800 bucks.

Rent was 900.

So there I was, homeless.

I was still writing, drinking beer, as a way for sleep.

Everyone wonders why the homeless drink.

How else do you fall asleep when you're too scared to fall asleep?

I have a house now, a condo, but not because of anything our government has done or hasn't done.

I remember, everyone is 1 misstep from becoming a homeless reject.

People see you as trash when you are homeless.

No one is trash.

Everyone has worth.

Even a turd.

Everyone, even the rich, are one step away from being in that place, homeless.

To be screamed at, GET A JOB, even though you have one.

I wish people would remember, everyone has a worth.

A LATE NIGHT RAMBLING - A RANDOM POEM

A LATE NIGHT RAMBLING - A RANDOM POEM

Sitting on the corner,
A dirty street,
Lies burned into the TV screen
Called the evening news.
Five shot dead;
Sad smiling face,
Children of the street,
Homeless,
Sad smiling bright face,
News man shuffles his white sheets of paper,
Two more dead,
Tragic,
Heroic deeds by someone's sister,
Brother,
Who knows,
On to the weather,
Sunshine in rich,
The poor get rain,
It seemingly is the rage

I decide to erase my brain,
Start over,
Reboot the ignorance,
Watch the moon explode into space,
Rejection, that word sprayed across my face,
Communists smoking marijuana, 1983,
Before the senile oafs we call Senators made it such a craze.
Corporate rape,
Rage,
Eating eggs off buttered toast,
Now, don't give a shit,
1998,
It all changes,
Does it?
Fuck it,
There's a train,
A train for change?
No one knows,
Nor do they care,
It's the new craze,
Jump on board,
Jump in front of.
Beating of the drum,
In rhythm with the brain,
Thump,
Thump,
Drum,
Dump.
Dumb
The pump don't work,
Somebody stole the handle,
The key use to be under that rock,
But damn if they didn't take that too!

When it pisses,
We call it rain,
OH happy day,
The flowers say,
It finally begins to,
What the shit is this?

Hero in the streets,
An angry fix there,
Walter killed himself,
A day before he turned 25.
A rainy day indeed,
The sheets,
Bloody and torn,
Ripped,
Riped?
Blood clinging to the wall,
Should have hanged himself,
Mother is in denial,
Father does not weep,
Sister ran away from home.
Can't sleep,
Too damn many waves,
Trains,
Screaming through my brain.

Whispers in the night,
Weeps,
Tears,
Bottles poured into mouth,
Vomit out the pain.
Senses dulled,
Removed from any sense of reality,
Shame that next day!

Cast out the demons,
The preacher preaches,
Rotten peaches,
Smelling like dead babies in a steaming jungle,
Screams in erotica,
Cast out visions of orgasmic death scenes
On that TV,
Mother lies,
Father lies,
Whole families lie in wait,
A crystal blank face,
Drink to kill that pain
To feel nothing but a breeze of a fly's wings.
Insanity?
Better to be insane
Than right with the sane mob,
Killing all the differences.

Sing,
To herald the light,
To banish that darkness,
Outside,
Scream,
End scene.
FADE TO BLACK