See - THE POUNDING OF THE DREAMS - A Poem

They gathered for the feast,
In that darkness,
To weep,
To sleep,
To fear,
That which,
They could not see.

They prayed,
To unnamed gods,
To feel their pain,
They cut themselves,
To see if they still bled,
Blood,
Not dust,
To feel their skin,
Not decay.

They walked into madness,
Their guns drawn to their chests,
To breathe,
To know they could still breathe,
Feet marching,
Sounds like the pounding of the drum,
The nightmares calling,
To try and flee,
To die,
Blood stained fields,
To die for that father land,
To die,
Souls wandering,
Foe,
Friend,
Alive,
Dead.

We cry,
We fear,
We lie in the fields,
Alive no more,
To hear,
Gone,
To never see again,
Dead.

BITTER MEMORIES: AN ILLUSION - A POEM

She stood in a doorway,
Lost in a memory,
Falling to pieces,
Trying to remember,
The time she had,
The moment she wandered,
Far from home,
To see the world,
A beautiful dream,
A peaceful moment,
Lost to a memory,
Drifting from pieces,
Realize,
The memory is dimming,
He's losing his mind,
She dances in the mourning,
The light grows dim,
Feeling the emotion,
She stands in the door way,
The tears washed away,
By the rain,
It falling down,
To the ground,
We see the illusion,
We feel the pain,
She grows apart,
The years roll by,
A distant memory,
Falling to pieces,
All a lie,
A mask is worn,
To feel no pain,
The distance an illusion,
She stands in the door way,
Lost in a memory,
Falling apart,
No grand illusion,
Just life itself,
In the world,
Spinning through,
A distant second,
In life itself,
A minute of peace,
Then a delusion,
A shattering dream,
Stark madness,
Cruising into the setting sun.

MISERY IN A DREAM - POEM

Like a dream,
Falling apart,
Seeing you there,
In that photograph,
And the memories,
Slipping away,
Into a place,
To find myself,
Dreaming of a better place,
And I see,
That memory,
Dancing free,
Into the setting sun,
Like a memory in color,
Falling apart,
Falling to pieces,
Seeing the dream breaking up,
Drifting apart,
Wondering where,
Why,
Tomorrow never comes again,
Today is today,
Yesterday is just,
A long ago dream,
Seeing a prayer,
Dancing in the rain,
All night,
To fear the time,
To live in misery,
Falling apart,
Dreaming of why,
Nothing matters.

Life is a dream,
Caught in a loop,
Wandering towards,
The edge,
Misery
In technicolor,
Forever in lies,
Painting black and white,
Living a dream,
Falling apart,
Into misery,
I sigh,
To the night high,
Life is like that,
Dancing in star light...

MISERY LOVES COMPANY - A POEM

MISERY LOVES COMPANY

A POEM

You don't know,
That feeling deep inside,
The one that makes you,
Cry without the tears.

And the seas were crying,
For life,
And the wind howled
For you,
To see the sun come rising up,
The misery of  life itself,
Coming up from the gallery.

And the sun sets on it all,
When the darkness comes a calling,
Will we see the light?

The howling of the misery,
Falling from the grace,
Tell the night to hold me,
To make it all seem right.

And the world keeps dancing on,
And on,
And on,
And my misery,
Keeps laughing in its face.
And when the morning sun is rising,
We'll be found,
Dancing in her grace.

Every day is a blessing,
A betterment of life,
Even when you're down,
You have to stand to see the sun,
A rising in the sky.

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...

Trapped in the dark when the lights are on - A POEM

Trapped in the dark when the lights are on - A POEM

Standing alone in the rain,
That feeling,
Lost happiness,
Fleeing on the ground.

There,
Somewhere,
Trapped,
Feeling alone,
In a room full of people,
All celebrating you.

Humanity lost,
To that humanity,
Trapped in the dark,
When the lights are on.

Some people,
Lost,
When the map is fully opened,
Drifting,
Through a maze,
Of confusion,
Begging for forgiveness,
When there's nothing to forgive.

When will this madness stop,
Oh lord,
How can I go on when my on is gone?

Down that road,
Wandering forward,
As I move backwards,
Seeing through the fog,
As I am blind,
Lost in that madness,
Wearing a mask,
He must be happy,
See,
He's smiling.

DEPRESSION IN A LITTLE BOTTLE - BROKEN LITTLE DOLL UP ON THE SHELF

DEPRESSION IN A LITTLE BOTTLE - A BROKEN LITTLE DOLL UP ON SHELF

Have you ever felt worthless, a loser, a broken toy just tossed up on the shelf, to sit and rot away into dust?

Have you ever felt the pain of loss, to never see that shining face again, never to hear that voice, telling you it will be okay, even when thousands tell you the same thing?

Every song you hear makes you want to cry, to crawl into a hole and pull that hole inside with you, to want to wander off this mortal plane, the only thing keeping you here is those who would be hurt by that action, a simple but complicated thing, to toss aside your life, to not hear those beloved cries.

To give up, that most precious gift, to lose that grip on what makes you see the light, to feel that darkness seeping up from the pit of your soul, to hear the anger building in your mind, to feel nothing but that pain.

I keep trying to live for the day but my mind decides to wander off into the dark corners, to shiver there, to feel like the broken toy that I am, I try to live happily and get kicked in the teeth by the world.

I feel like that broken little doll up on the shelf, the one that nobody wants.

Good night world, maybe I will dream about better times and will wake up happy.

To feel that wind beneath my wings, to see the horizon, the dawn breaking, the glorious colors of the dawn breaking, to hear that sweet song from the birds of paradise, to believe again, that life will be better, for the truth, for the reality, not just some dream.

I grab my pillow, pull the blanket close to me, feeling sleep coming over me, that darkness, to comfort me, hopefully I will sleep sweetly, to again, dream of better things, to taste the sweet wines of Heaven, to hear the choir sing beautifully, in harmony, to embrace me in their wings, though, I would not want to wake, to this reality, who others say is not that bad, to smile, but what if I don't want to smile, to not laugh, that fake laugh that others seem to believe is that reality?

I still sit here, writing this letter, not knowing if I want to share it to the world, it seems a depressing folly, almost a suicide letter to that world which isn't that bad, I have seen worse.

I still sit here, wondering, listening to the quiet of the darkened room, to hear the nothingness which is peaceful, contrary to those who say, you should surround yourself with everyone.

Everyone is madness, just ask the masses, to hear the many voices screaming inside your head, to rip out your eyes so you can truly see everything as it was meant to be seen.

Dear depression, you gnarly beast, you dearly fuck, go away, bother someone else this night.

So here I sit, writing, listening to my mind, it wanting to scream, but it sulks in silence, good night my dear world.

Dear Depression, go fuck yourself!

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...

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...

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.

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.

Whispers in the wind: A POEM

WHISPERS IN THE WIND - A POEM

The way we were,
Like tattered pictures,
Thrown on the floor,
Memories,
It was, so apparently, so easy, according to.....
Memories,
Beautiful, some,
Others,
Too painful to remember,
We chose to forget,
Laughter,
We remember,
Those shining moments,
Drifting across the wall,
Projected,
Simple things,
Here,
Timeless memories,
Others easily forgotten,
Brought back by dreams,
Distant,
Only shadows,
Of fragments,
Tossed into the seas,
It would seem,
The misery,
Forgotten,
Brought back by passion lost,
Yesterday brought to tomorrow,
Whispers in the wind,
Memories,
How they change us,
Smiles on the photograph,
Tomorrow,
Is a better day,
To see the sun,
Blazing,
In a memory...

A letter to a true love - a love poem

A LETTER TO A TRUE LOVE - A LOVE POEM

You are my everything,
You are my desire,
My dear one,
My sweet embrace,
You are the one
That I run to in the rain.
I want to be with you,
Till the end of days.

I don't know
What the future holds,
But I do know this,
You are my life
You are my soul,
Without you,
I'd be nothing at all,
I would not know the feelings I know now,
I love you more than words can say,
I see your face and I begin to smile.

A true love,
In sense of the words,
I feel your kiss,
Your touch,
Even when you are not here,
I can still feel you next to me.

I love you,
More than life itself,
A better love could not be found,
Even if I tried,
I love you, my dearest one.
I will love you,
Till time depletes the skies.
Always and ever,
Till the end of time...