Posts Tagged ‘random thoughts’

We laid there, our souls facing the rising sun,
To feel those rays, into our bodies,
Into our minds,
To feel its grace,
The dying inside of us,
Wanted out,
But could not be free,
As the meat survived.

We wept in memories,
Of those who had gone before,
Way too soon,
Wept the mourners at Jerry’s wake,
He died of cancer at 23.
Who really wants to live forever,
In some never ending horror fever dream?
Lost loves,
To God’s embrace they say,
Screw God, give them back to me!

I don’t want to feel the shame,
To feel the same,
Don’t want to be in pain,
Ashamed,
Inside myself,
Feeling rage,
Against the stage,
Trying to stop the wars,
Inside myself,
A memory,
Of whispers,
A sigh,
In that rain,
Against the broken showers,
In a tower,
A nightmare,
Of dancing metal frames.

I held your face,
In my hands,
A dream of breathing shallow,
It was my decision,
Oh how I kill myself for it,
To pull that plug,
My dear love,
To live with that decision,
I fell to pieces,
That unholy day.

Here in the tall willows, away from the eyes, the mockingbirds dare lie, they whisper in tunes, a hi, a hi.

Cindy laid in the tall grass, holding her doll, wishing it was real or this whole life was a dream.

Her brother had been killed in a war, Vietnam, her mother had cried there in the kitchen.

Cindy tried not to cry as she ran out of the kitchen, the tears were beginning to fly.

It wasn’t fair.

He was only 19.

He had told her he would come home alive.

He promised.

He lied.

There he laid, in that box, a shell, a corpse.

Cindy didn’t want to go to his funeral.

But she did.

Mother needed her support.

She had told Cindy that as Cindy sat in the back seat of the car, heading to the funeral home.

A flag covered the casket as it sat there, waiting to be lowered into the grave.

Mother never spoke of it again.

Cindy would hear her late at night, crying, for many years.

“I’ll be okay!” she told Cindy as she prepared to leave for her college.

Cindy got a call from her town’s sheriff, her mother decided to join Cindy’s brother by overdosing on sleeping pills and alcohol.

Another head stone to wait.

Cindy didn’t cry.

She shook friends’ hands at the wake.

“She was a good woman, she was strong…”

Cindy hated it, standing there, pretending her mother was strong.

Cindy was the last of the tribe, didn’t want to be, her father died before she was three.

She shut down, closed up, lied, said she was okay, Mother was with God and Cindy’s brother, but she wasn’t fine.

Mother lied.

Everyone dies.

She sat in the lonely quiet home, sitting on the floor, playing with that same doll, wishing she was real.

Was this life?

Just to lie, “I’m okay, don’t worry about me!”?

Cindy went to bed, to dream of a better time.

1684,
Number on the door,
Wine,
Drunk like water,
To drive that madness away,
Angry young men,
Waiting for the end,
A somber moment,
Oh drifting softly by,
To see,
That sea,
Oh hairy lies,
To feel alive,
In cosmic lights,
Drifting through angels,
Alive,
Oh beauty,
Oh father,
Oh mother,
Dying
On the vine,
A herald,
To hear,
A final sigh,
Angry young fucks,
Crying in the night,
Blasphemy,
In midnight hour,
To revel,
In made up words,
Of life,
Lies,
And simple things!

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.

“Beer!” Mary roared as she fled into the casino.

We never saw her again.

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?

Ice cold beer,
What the fuck are we doing here?
Mother is dying, somewhere,
Maybe father knows where?

Trumpets blues,
Harvard and 9th,
Jesus died for somebody’s sin,
Who here is revealing sins?

July 12th,
World is pulling apart,
Reaching for the top,
While sinking to the bottom.
We were standing there,
Waiting for a bus,
Never comes,
Doesn’t say much,
For our transportation!

Rust,
Lost in trust,
Who here has a buck?

Gives a fuck?

Balloons falling through the waterfall,
We cannot see the bottom,
Trust faith?
Die before you hit the floor.

Type,
Type,
Words on the screen,
Jesus,
Who sees?
Who hears?
The blind lead the dead.


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!

Heaven is a chocolate bar.

Hell is no toilet paper after you shit yourself.

Pondering, early morning, as I watch The Andy Warhol Diaries, because it’s quiet in the house now; the monsters still sleeping, 5:37 AM.

I had a dream; no unity or mountain tops, no tables full of foods of all delights, just a dream, Andy was there, he told me I should make THE movie, about queer steers in Spain mocking angry young politicians.

He then told me had to go, early lunch with Ghandi. I bet you guys eat soup I say.

We both laugh. Then hug. You’ll be joining us soon, he says. Bring Spam. We’re running low.

I nodded.

By the time I write this, the world is still spinning. Jesus isn’t on the news. The world is still spinning. Jesus saves, popular tune.

Michigian to The Czar back to Portland for drinks.

Day is yet to break. Brake?

Merry Happy New Day, eat a chocolate bar, don’t shit yourself.