Into the night we ran, Our souls filled with horrors, The last man standing, Dies alone.
Here, in victory, We cried for our horrors began, The night wind howls to the lonely tree, The man in his guise, Falls from grace, A million years, A thousand eyes, Ripping out the lies, The man in the car, Victor, Reeds, No one gets out of here alive, The jester fell For the King, And the Queen, Everyone here is, An illusion of madness, As the lake begins to boil, The snail is on the side of the road, Wake up, See faith, Bow in disgrace, You’ve lost the battle, Fuck the war!
Alive, A lie, No matter the size, or the side, We all die, There’s a killer on the side, Let us lie in Heaven, To fly into Hell, Good night And good bye!
I laid there, Melting there into the carpet, A dream like trance, A nightmare in fantasy land, I felt the world spinning around me, Chaos, Madness, Jesus was there, Melting into Heaven’s gate with me, We were souls, Drifting through time and space.
The light began to fade, I still thought I was a shrimp, In a stormy sea, Being eaten by Moby Dick, Oh Henry, My Henry, Did you see the dying of the light? Margie died, Last night, Cancer took her brain, She was only 45.
I tried to stand, But fell back to my knees, Wasn’t a prayer I uttered from my dry lips, Cursed be to any God, As Jesus swore the same, We’d never die again!
Somewhere outside of a bottle of a tequila, a monkey decided to grow wings and become a fairy of mass portions.
Little Rock was dying, Tulsa was next, America was a scene, somewhere outside reality, as I sat there, after taking a few edibles of various strength.
“Is this death?” Mary shouted from the top of the tower, leaning towards the right.
I shrugged as the world span out of control into the sun, seconds at a time.
It would seem the world would end in 30 billion years or a month, matters on how fast it could spin, fleeing, into that fiery ball of enraged senators.
Henry Parker, the man behind the illusion of reality, was sitting here too. His hands grasped the bottle of tequila like it was a religious experience.
“I saw Jesus back there!” Mary said as she settled back in the back seat of the car. She was high or so said her agent as he put her into the car.
Vegas, land of the unholy wild chief iguanas was boiling in its own skin.
There in the darkness, A light did try to slay, The madness swirling around in their heads, The world was still young in her eyes, Fly the morning light, To break that cursed pain, To be seen, To be heard, To know the touch, Of love, Boiling deep inside, There was no time, Now that father is dead, That scene, Took his own life, I found him there, Hanging in the attic.
Prayers of Saints, Do they even hear? I pray, I pray again, Do they even care?
The year was 1997 and everyone was dead. Welcome to the future kids, Come on, Stay awhile, Everyone driving Buicks through the desert! Welcome to the madhouse, Nobody gets out alive, The world is an oyster, Flying through a cloud, Distant memories, stacked, Like cement blocks on our graves, I love you Rio, Bravo, Cheap sheets on a broken bed, Mama can you hear me crying in the storm?
The man was a great man, So the pastor says as he performs the last rite, He’ll be missed, Dissed? He’ll be something. A writer? Nah, too fat, Writers have to be skinny, Hungry, Haven’t ate in days, Weeks? They should be high, Write! See the sea? No? Lie!! The waves rolled in, To the sandy beach, And we all laughed, Ha! Red balloons falling from the sky, Jesus ain’t here, Come on Jack! Come on back!
The best time to attend church is just when “the meds” are kicking in. As the ghouls begin to feast on the body and blood of their savior, you begin to realize that the world is going to be okay.
The pastor begins to compare her being lost with her husband for 6 hours up in the woods to that of Jesus, who is literally being devoured by his followers.
I say amen as the teleprompter tells us.
The pastor is reading a script the entire time.
I begin to think I need more meds.
The dare to be weird crowd are sitting across the aisle.
“Hi my name is Dave, it sure is nice weather we’re having, right?”
I smile, nod, say something, maybe yes, I don’t know, my mouth isn’t moving, the natives know, I’m high, oh Jesus, I’m high as a kite right now.
Maybe I’m not.
Maybe I just think I’m high.
It’s all an illusion, put together by Hollywood, to make me want to take more medicine.
The pastor is beginning a new scene.
It’s Lent. Or The Time of The Gathering, there can be only one. PRINCES OF THE UNIVERSE begins to play. Swords clash. The end of society inside my head.
Pastor is still reading a script.
She doesn’t want to forget a thing I guess.
People are opening their sandwich bag with Jesus’ body and blood.
I must have missed something.
I say amen twice.
Everyone turns to look.
I turn too.
Damn sinner, who said that?
We sing a hymn. Nearer to thee. I sing loudly. Off key. Someone sighs sadly. We all say amen.
At the end, there are no pancakes. I sadly leave. “At my church back east, we get pancakes!” Im asked to never attend again. An Easter miracle indeed.
I woke from a fright, A dream I thought was just a dream, Turned out reality, was not such right, I tried not to cry, But failed that night, Sitting there, in a waiting room, She decided to pass, In the afternoon, Jesus, Oh God, What did I do, To deserve such a curse, To be punished so bad?
I left my heart, Buried in a tomb, Couldn’t find the road back to the truth, Merry life, swept by me, Other went on, And I fell by the wayside, to see, A burning lie, A morning in mourning, A life moving forward, But seemingly dreary.
To live to be old, Is sometimes a treat, And sometimes it’s not, To see those who you love, To be buried, To rot.
Life goes on, We try to move on, But sometimes we find, Ourselves in the muck, We’re drowning, you see.
Good night, Old lovers, And friends, Remember to tell your heart felt lovers, Goodnight and love you, Will see you tomorrow, For that tomorrow might not bring!
Ransom slashed, Half past eleven, Nobody sees ya, Man ain’t got no time for that.
Slow ride east, Omaha, Left train, Gone, Half past twelve, On the Eastern track, Going nowhere fast, Lost my mind, To a bottle of Jack, July 10th, 1953, In a waste paper basket, Filled with fleas, Flees?
Resume broken, No jobs, For two years, Except shoveling coal, And other stuff, Five years to life, Chasing broken dreams, Drinking those shattered bottles to dream.
Not my usual blog of poetry and dark visions, but, I like to show more than my awful poetry and today, I share with you my YouTube video – Killer Chihuahuas from Outer Space, starring Chewy and Dazzle and some random targets of historical importance.
Enjoy!!!
Click here for Killer Chihuahuas from Outer Space!!!! Action, suspense, explosions and Chihuahuas!!!
WANDERING WHERE I AM GOING! 