Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Witch Doctor(peace and silence)

I don't want to do anything. I just want to sit here and listen to old hardcore and suck down cigarettes and coffee. I don't want to vote for your presidents or look at your hideous baby pictures on Facebook. I don't want to answer your text messages or see whats new in your world.

Can I just read Dostoevsky in peace? Can I sew the hole in my jacket pocket in silence?

Why do you steal from me? If it isn't my clothes, it's my time...or worse yet my consciousness.

I don't want to do anything. I just want to sit here and listen to the old gods talk about the time when I was a king. I don't need a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. I don't want your church. I don't want your methadone. I don't want to reply to your non-sense.

Can I commune with Bukowski in peace? Can I listen to my Bad Brains in silence?

Why do you steal what I don't have? You are a hungry ghost, never satisfied.

I don't want to do anything. I just want to sit in the dark and smoke cheap cigars. I will not go to your party, I will not meet you for lunch(even if you are paying). I will not validate you. Can't I just be left to my own device?

Can I pour over Ginsberg's tomes in peace? Harvest my pain in silence?

Why do you insist on stealing my energy? When I disappear no one will notice.

Thursday, January 9, 2014


destinies failed & alliances broken
the deepest of screams will sometimes go unspoken
the value of pain & chaos and truth
leaving a human shell-jaded, unmoved

this is the end result of a lifetime
embraced by nightmares, violence & crime
mind turns stone, the only solution
blood follows blood, and sweet retribution

see it in my eyes/contempt knows no disguise
like the sun falling from the sky, unleashed on this world

Monday, January 6, 2014

Too Late

The success came too late. He was already too hard...the tyrannical parents, the group homes and juvenile detention centers had taken too much energy from him. Later the bottle and the heroin and the women and the jail cells would take more energy. He looked at the world with a disinterest. He didn't hate the world, or people, but he saw the cracks in the facade. He was cynical. And he had no anxiety about this.

The small home in Venice Beach came too late. It wasn't Dogtown anymore. It wasn't a surf ghetto by the sea. He may as well still live in Pittsburgh, he would often think this as he walked the beach. California was dead...His Bukowski was gone. His Black Flag was gone. He saw Keith Morris on a regular basis and he never bothered to approach him. What was the point?

The peace came too late. He no longer could appreciate it. The chaos that had coddled him no longer allowed for peace to be a mistress. He could no longer understand or operate in it.

The success came too late.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Wind Up (part I)

"When I was young and they packed me off to school, and they taught me how not to play the game. I didn't mind if they groomed me for success or if they said that I was just a fool...So I left there in the morning with their "god" tucked underneath my arm, their half-assed smiles and the book of rules. So I asked this god a question and by way of firm reply he said "I'm not the kind you have to wind up on Sunday"  So to my old headmaster, or to anyone who cares; before I'm through I'd like to say my prayers."

Ian Anderson-Wind Up/Aqualung 1972

And so before I am through I will want to have my say...If anything in life I have been too fair, too forgiving to people and elements that are not so inclined to fairness or forgiveness as I am. I have been developed the most keen introspect, and I am able to see my flaws and assets clearly. This can be a curse and a blessing...while I am able to see and therefor improve my flaws, or eliminate them altogether, I am at a disadvantage at times in that while I will admit my own wrong, I expect no one to do the same. I have learned that it is not my place to point out other's faults...As is my nature, I have no desire to lead or follow so my capacity to criticize others is low. Even to a point where I will often eat shit for this quality.

So it has been decided, by me of course, that while working on various writing ventures is well and may behoove me to also take time to give my account of one of the more significant and turbulent relationships in my life. To this point the relationship will remain nameless...and it may always remain so, but the point is that people familiar will know and understand my own side of the events through the years. It does me no good to be silent on the fact, it only makes me look bad and lends to the other party's one sided campaign of chicanery and delusion.

Being the good sport that I am, I will always leave this blog uncensored...and any feedback is not only welcome but encouraged. This will be all for now...but I will end by saying that this brings me no pleasure. I simply need for my side to be heard.