Spirits

Morning in the City

Breadsticks: A Retrospective

METAL

Blue Skies

Sitting on a bench as a strong wind blows around me
The scent of fallen pine cones and freshly cut grass are making a nice potpourri
There are four small children of different nationalities playing some form of football in the field in front of me
The fat white kid is very slow, draw your own conclusions
A basketball rests just below the bench, near my left foot
It's kind of flat, not much use on the court in that state
Maybe I'll take it inside and resuscitate it
Maybe not, I'm feeling out of breath myself today
I could call out to that ambulance I hear in the distance
Its blaring horns and sirens are unwelcome to my ears on this lovely September eve
I hope the poor soul who's taking that ride makes it through ok
Today is no day to die

Evolution

Some Sunday Sappiness

Nine-Tentacled Octopus

I'm walking down a narrow street with my back to the soft wind
Cigarette in one hand, lack of drink in the other
On my way to see friends from a neighboring town
They've come from a sushi bar
Bellies full of Japanese delights
When I reach them they're already drunk
On wine and beer and Old Forester
Laughing and cheering, they welcome me to their table
I knock back a few, then a few more
Why not, I say
What the fuck have I got to lose
The room and the world start spinning
Round and round in perpetual motion
I revere the feeling of uncertain footing
We make our way to the street as the place closes
The sushi becomes rebellious in a friend and
She violently pukes it all out, long and loud
On the sidewalk, on her shoes
It truly is a foreign and aquatic mess
With that, we go our separate ways
The journey home or elsewhere is our collective focus
I struggle, and lean into that same soft wind
Asking it to carry me away

The Cask

Ray Charles Impression

Kirby Amid Darkness

Nice Piano

Pretty Catchy

Alice

She was plainly beautiful
With a radiant glow she wasn't aware of
Those are always my favorites
Making your heart skip with their modesty
Her dark hair was the perfect contrast to her light Irish skin
She was wearing a blue/black skirt that hugged her hips in just the right way
And her body just wouldn't quit
Taken care of over the years through diet and exercise
I was smitten
I waited to see her every day
At last striking up a conversation in a strange place about strange things
We were from different worlds but needed each other
We'd make love all day and listen to the classics in the nude
She was a pearl
Eventually the going got tough
As it most often does
I should've held strong, held her close
But I sat, oblivious, and twisted the knife into her heart
Her blood is still on my hands
Mixed with my own now and I can't tell whose is whose
Karma's a bitch like that

She May Be a Hybrid

There was a woman at the bar
Who, I swear to you, was a man
Or at least she had some man genes in her
She was tall, like a mighty tree
With ugly, worn features you'd see on a guy
Who's been working in a field for far too long
I think there may have even been a bulge in her pants
I was shocked at her uniqueness
Afraid of what her breeding would set loose on the world
More ugly people doing ugly things
Like me, secretly shitting on an innocent man/woman
But hey, times is hard they say
And she seemed to be enjoying her drink

Penance

Dark and stormy
The infinite rain is a symphony of splashes
There's a hole in my gut tonight
An evening spent with friends
Just not enough to wipe clean the thoughts
Of her, of them
I drink and I drink, hoping that tonight will be the night
Tonight she'll lose her grip on my heart
Tonight I'll be free of the people who laugh at mercy
I've been poisoned by the best of them
The fangs ran deep into my skin
Releasing their venom into my tainted blood
Time is apparently the only antidote
But the waiting is monotonous
I still see her shadow in the corner of my eye
I think it's her anyway
Maybe it's the ghost of some other love
An angel perhaps, sent to monitor my penance
Either way, the rain's still coming down hard
Creating an ocean outside my window

The Chicken or the Egg

Batman & Me

Afterburn

Longshot - Charles Bukowski

she's not for you, man,

she's not your type,

she's erased

she's been used

she's got all the wrong habits,

he told me in between races.


I'm going to bet the 4 horse, I told him.

well, it's only that I'd like to turn her around in mid-stream,

save her, you might say.


you can't save her, he said,

you're 33, you need kindness.

I'm going to bet the 6 horse.

you're not the one to save her.


who can save her? I asked.

I don't think the 6 has a chance, I like the 4.


she needs somebody to beat her from wall to wall, he said,

kick her ass, she'd love it. she'd stay home and wash the dishes.

the 6 horse will be in the running.


I'm no good at beating women, I said.

forget her then, he said.

it's hard to, I said.


he got up and bet the 6 and I got up and bet the 4.

the 5 horse won by 3 lengths at 15 to one.


she's got red hair

like lightening from heaven, I said.


forget her, he said.


we tore up our tickets and stared at the lake in the center of the track.

it was going to be a long afternoon for both of us.

Corner

Seasonal

All points pressed together
Steal the color from my eyes
Laughter shooting in all directions
A high-pitched, cartoony squeal
Perfect strangers in abandoned walkways
Sharing air and little else
Crack the skye and watch the rainfall
Horizontal as it makes its pass
The end of Summer and her disco
Autumn comes and brings a chill
Watch the rusty leaves start tumbling
Welcome goblins, welcome ghouls
The past is gone, we're left with fragments
Puzzle pieces for blissful ghosts

There is a Languor of the Life - Emily Dickinson

There is a Languor of the Life
More imminent than Pain --
'Tis Pain's Successor -- When the Soul
Has suffered all it can --

A Drowsiness -- diffuses --
A Dimness like a Fog
Envelops Consciousness --
As Mists -- obliterate a Crag.

The Surgeon -- does not blanch -- at pain
His Habit -- is severe --
But tell him that it ceased to feel --
The Creature lying there --

And he will tell you -- skill is late --
A Mightier than He --
Has ministered before Him --
There's no Vitality.

Saturated

Goodwill Halloween

Snowflakes

Cracks In The Black

My Mug @ 33

Under The Microscope

Glowing

Spooky Abandoned Office Space

E.T.S.

Freedom Ain't Free

12:12

Stormclouds

Tattoo Left

Tattoo Right

Maze

Morning rain

Shadow stilts

Beam

Neon glow

Spaghetti spinner

Ghosts

Helpful

Through The Smoke

Awake at 2 am
No hope of recovery
Collar protruding eastward
Tangled jungle inside me
Off to see the Wizard
Old man's jagged fingernails
Preventive sickness inhaled
Cruel ridicule from small people
Salivating at the crash site
They used to share my secrets
Now they spit in my direction
I'll never understand it
Piano keys through static
Back into the wilderness
Who will see tomorrow

Black Scalpel

The colored bulb pops as the heat increases
Pressure building from within and without
Step out of the cold and dark to see more of the same
Pouring down like an endless stream of tears
Flashes of spite in the distance
Won't show its face for fear of discovery
And the realization of what it's become
Hit the mighty C, hit it hard
Push all of it upward and out all over
Show the world what it means to be you
Through the curtains and shades of experience
Through the love and the lies and the sex and the sorrow
I'm still here
Pushing and prodding
Never letting go
Heaven doesn't want me and Hell's just way too hot
I cut my path with a delicate blade
Piercing any and all that I can

My Life As A Planet

I lie awake and listen to the bells ring
Anticipation of the next day's events is low
I'm tired but I don't want to sleep right now
Too much to say in too many ways
I let the drum beat play on in my head
The heavy rhythms bringing an odd comfort
More weight is falling off me at increasing speeds
The beaten clothes I love barely fit anymore
Perhaps I am imploding, or shrinking to microscopic
Spiraling inward, as I always thought I would
Maybe I'll leave a star in my wake
A giant coin, a pair of cherries, a bunch of bananas
Probably not
I never really liked bananas anyway

Life and Death

It's a strange thing to have survived a suicide attempt
There are days when I wake and wish I wouldn't have made it through
But I can't make another go at it
The hurt is different now
The meaning would be lost
And I made a promise I have to keep
Too many of mine and those made to me have been broken
So I get up in the mornings and do what people do
Even though I do it begrudgingly
As though I'm not really here now
Just floating along in a space meant to be empty
I'm living a life that I'd given up on
Every step is taken for someone else
These hours seem to last forever

Sitting On A Tree Stump

Hypnotic lapping of the waves against stones
A soft breeze rolling in and over me
In the distance a gospel man strums a guitar
Many relations have gathered here
The birds walk and fly around us
Unconcerned with anyone's presence
A beautiful woman brushes a huge dog
Her children crawling and climbing like monkeys
Multicolored boats race slowly to nowhere
Under the steam of the couples within them
The sun is high and burns my skin
Except for when the mighty clouds protect me
There's garbage lying at my feet
A blemish on the comforting face of the world
Discarded by careless and unthinking animals
Unaware of the problems they leave in their wake
Take a deep breath and let the cool air move me
Back to where this all began

The Flood At The High School Reunion

It started with a small crack in the punch bowl
The crack began to leak and the leak began to grow
Soon, every liquid container in the building was compromised
From drips to streams to gushing
There was no air
The water and punch and cheap liquor tipped the ceiling
The prom king and queen drowned surrounded by their subjects
With nothing left from their kingdom of dreams and memories

Sand

Taking lunch in a barren wasteland
surrounded by abandoned buildings
and tiny diners made from old buses

Turned away without reservations
My party populated past capacity
We split amidst confusion and strife

From nowhere an old man calls out

"Free the young women trapped in the past!
The 80's were neon mystery to them,
those girls just want to have fun!"

I sense betrayal in the windows above me
highlighted in frames of bright sky blue
and wholeheartedly lose my appetite

I lay down my arms to let the young girls go,
resigned to their fate my inaction provides
Time travel is foremost a No Man's Land

The old man frowns with disappointment
and stinking from the black spite of scorpions
turns to walk into the desert

I watch as he melts into the sand

Morning Memories

I awake to the taste of smoke
The fire from my belly has crawled its way to my throat
Everything is hazy
Everything is still
Yesterday's questions still linger
Even the ones I know the answers to
What has been done cannot be changed
My actions and those of others
Are forever part of us now
And I'm sorry for the wrong I've done
I ask forgiveness from those who possess it
I ask forgiveness for those who would receive
Maybe someday we'll all be well

Appointment

Difficulty driving to a difficult destination
Surrounded by obstacles at every turn
Marvel at the old boots floating in the sky
Must be the new paint smell
Orange chairs hover with no legs
In front of a large, ominous farmhouse
From this height I can see beginnings
But the ascent only lasts so long
I'll return to ground within the hour
To scurry alone inside the maze
The broken radio plays a silent tune
Come dance with me

Excuses

My stomach is grumbling
Hungry for the life it's been denied
High octane, phony aggression
Blasting into my already pounding ears
I stare into the oppressive sunlight
Thinking about my later explanations
It's always draining and liberating
To let my insides out for a while
The timing wasn't right, I hear
The timing, the timing
My time is precious and fleeting
All of it can be gone in a moment of weakness
My love is still here
It's the objects that are missing

There's Nothing Else

Beautiful piano repeating
Violins sweeping upward
Falling down to rest in lower tones
Back to the beginning
Pick up the pace else you get left behind
Anguished pleas and longing
Getting it right with a guiding light
Filter it down to ambience
A single sound in an open chamber
More powerful than any blow
Hear the voices raise in unison
Singing that one constant note
Eat the heart and bear its burdens
Remember it's an acquired taste
Mistakes are not valuable
If you don't bother learning from them
Passive solutions and forced acceptance
A swan song for every captive soul

Words On A Painting

Got a problem
Blisters on my thumb and forefinger
Argument with my boss
Revisiting dark music
Long-ass text messages
Late conversations with police
Striped shirt tightly tucked
Terroristic threatening
"Causing more pain and losing friends"
Making an impression
Delusional guilty parties
Nobody's special forever
Do what you gotta do
I'm the crazy one

Avarice

Because of his avarice
And his betrayal of the Emperor's trust
Pier Della Vigna was disgraced, blinded and imprisoned
Dante's pilgrim finds Pier Della Vigna
On the seventh level of the Inferno
And like Judas Iscariot
He died by hanging
So Judas and Pier Della Vigna are linked in Dante
By the avarice he saw in them
In fact, avarice and hanging are linked in the medieval mind
This was the earliest known depiction of the Crucifixion
Carved on an ivory box in Gaul about A.D. 400
It includes the death by hanging of Judas
His face upturned to the branch that suspends him
Here he is again on the doors of the Benevento Cathedral
Hanging, this time with his bowels falling out
In this plate from the 15th Century edition of the Inferno
Pier Della Vigna's body hangs from a bleeding tree
I will not belabor the obvious parallel
With Judas Iscariot
But Dante Alighieri needed no drawn illustration
It was his genius to make Pier Della Vigna
Now in Hell
Speak in strained hisses and coughing sibilants
As though he is hanging still
Avarice, hanging, self-destruction
"Make my own home...
Be my gallows."

It Is Her Nature

An old fable:

One day, a scorpion looked around at the mountain where he lived and decided that he wanted a change. So he set out on a journey through the forests and hills. He climbed over rocks and under vines and kept going until he reached a river.

The river was wide and swift, and the scorpion stopped to reconsider the situation. He couldn't see any way across. So he ran upriver and then checked downriver, all the while thinking that he might have to turn back.

Suddenly, he saw a frog sitting in the rushes by the bank of the stream on the other side of the river. He decided to ask the frog for help getting across the stream.

"Hellooo Mr. Frog!" called the scorpion across the water, "Would you be so kind as to give me a ride on your back across the river?"

"Well now, Mr. Scorpion! How do I know that if I try to help you, you wont try to kill me?" asked the frog hesitantly.

"Because," the scorpion replied, "If I try to kill you, then I would die too, for you see I cannot swim!"

Now this seemed to make sense to the frog. But he asked. "What about when I get close to the bank? You could still try to kill me and get back to the shore!"

"This is true," agreed the scorpion, "But then I wouldn't be able to get to the other side of the river!"

"Alright then...how do I know you wont just wait till we get to the other side and THEN kill me?" said the frog.

"Ahh...," crooned the scorpion, "Because you see, once you've taken me to the other side of this river, I will be so grateful for your help, that it would hardly be fair to reward you with death, now would it?!"

So the frog agreed to take the scorpion across the river. He swam over to the bank and settled himself near the mud to pick up his passenger. The scorpion crawled onto the frog's back, his sharp claws prickling into the frog's soft hide, and the frog slid into the river. The muddy water swirled around them, but the frog stayed near the surface so the scorpion would not drown. He kicked strongly through the first half of the stream, his flippers paddling wildly against the current.

Halfway across the river, the frog suddenly felt a sharp sting in his back and, out of the corner of his eye, saw the scorpion remove his stinger from the frog's back. A deadening numbness began to creep into his limbs.

"You fool!" croaked the frog, "Now we shall both die! Why on earth did you do that?"

The scorpion shrugged, and did a little jig on the drownings frog's back.

"I could not help myself. It is my nature."

Then they both sank into the muddy waters of the swiftly flowing river.

Self destruction - "Its my Nature", said the Scorpion...

How's Things

Too early
Drifting in and out
Pulsating headache
Thunder in the distance
Bring the rain
Wash us clean
Passion vs. indifference
Harsh words over paint
Blind eyes won't see them
Let them live a minute
Let them serve their purpose
Watch the ugly people
Doing ugly things
Ride the lightning

To Find A Vine

You and I were in a church. There were a few people scattered around us and I was sitting on the hard wooden pugh in front of you. You were drinking tea from a coffee cup. Occasionally, one of the church-goers would come up to you and chat briefly about this or that, then go back to their seats. I kept trying to turn back to you and have my own chit chat session but I never turned more than halfway. You were very pretty, and it was like I was seeing you for the first time. Eventually, I slouched in the pugh and began to sink like I was in quicksand.

To Be An Alien

What it means to be an alien
Is to come from outer space
You may have some green antennae
Or some pee holes on your face
Your breath could smell like pond scum
And your teeth all brown with rot
Or you might have big white sparklies
And a righteous parking spot
You could fly on wings of fire
Burning man and child alike
Tell that E.T. prick to suck it
He can shove that floating bike
You could call your spaceship "Race War"
Burning rubber through the stars
Have a tat on all nine tentacles
From your time behind spacebars
To be alien is to be outside
They'll just never let you in
And the world you're from, like this one
Is fucked up

Front Towards Enemy

Deep breaths and a straight back
Cryogenic solitude
The secret of youthful longevity
Pull the blinds down halfway
So I can only see what's cooking
Three pressed shirts wrapped in plastic
Worn by the ghost that lives in the closet
Rattling chains and warning of visions
Past, present, and future
A trio of traveling guilt salesmen
I want a world where people aren't disappointing
But that's not the world I spin on
You'll be a fool if you trust and hold them
They're full of venom and poison and spiteful malice
And apathy, the worst of all
Shields up, guns at the ready
Front towards enemy

This Style Is Spoiling Me

Shaky hands
Flaming faux pas
Two silver broaches
Uncomfortable phone call
Forgot my wallet
Wired or wireless
"God Hates The Wicked"
All day sunglasses
Grease on my fingers
Less than perfect timing
Avoidance via shower
Colorful flak jacket
Grate in the asylum
Forehead splashed with droplets
Let the good times roll
Touch of a hangover
Crossword in the waiting room
Levity in the chapel
Message tone had to go
Concerned for my welfare
Still surviving Death
But the bastard is chasing me

Old School

Take that look of worry
Im an ordinary man
They dont tell me nothing
So I find out what I can
Theres a fire thats been burning
Right outside my door
I cant see but I feel it
And it helps to keep me warm
So i, I dont mind
No i, I dont mind

Seems so long Ive been waiting
Still dont know what for
Theres no point escaping
I dont worry anymore
I cant come out to find you
I dont like to go outside
They cant turn off my feelings
Like theyre turning off a light
But i, I dont mind
No i, I dont mind
Oh i, I dont mind
No i, I dont mind

So take, take me home
Cos I dont remember
Take, take me home
Cos I dont remember
Take, take me home
Cos I dont remember
Take, take me home, oh lord
Cos Ive been a prisoner all my life
And I can say to you

Take that look of worry, mines an ordinary life
Working when its daylight
And sleeping when its night
Ive got no far horizons
I dont wish upon a star
They dont think that I listen
Oh but I know who they are
And i, I dont mind
No i, I dont mind
Oh i, I dont mind
No i, I dont mind

So take, take me home
Cos I dont remember
Take, take me home
Cos I dont remember
Take, take me home
Cos I dont remember
Take, take me home, oh lord
Well Ive been a prisoner all my life
And I can say to you

But I dont remember
Take, take me home...