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.

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...

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...

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.

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.

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...