Neon Rain

neon

 

Success inside a box of greed

Wall street weed

Cocaine and speed

Not enough… gimme more

A bright downpour

A capital gain

And neon rain

Give me your money

Praise my name

My checkbook commands you

Kneel in vain

Tremble in my presence

More important than god

More powerful than Satan

Praise me and be humble peasants

And don’t complain

For I am rich

In neon rain

So exalt his name

The one he got at birth

Made him what he’s worth

The family jet plane

Flying high above the glow

The flow

And pain

Of the neon rain

Pyrite darkness at his core

Gold running through his veins

Basking in the afterglow

Of his oft ill gotten gains

And neon rains

He took from us

Behold him majestic

Bombastic

So fantastic it’s drastic

But to me he’s plastic

Just a John Doe

Living in a condo

With stain glass windows

And alters of pain

Built from neon rain

Behold

Rising above you

Looking so handsome

So tan yet so vain

Basking from the glow

Of grimy neon rain

Monster dressed in silk

Beady rhinestone eyes

Heart of pyrite power

Deals in cheats and lies

Neon rain never falls

Never fails

Money prevails

Inside the Ivory tower

Above the neon shower

Thinks he’s immune to our distain

Lavish him in platinum

Uncork another magnum

Fill the chalice for his palace

With the sweat of our champagne

Behold him with his playthings

Hottest ladies on fine China

Diamond studded vagina

Stroked like a rigid ego

Everywhere that we go

Rich boys will be rich boys

Spreading prepaid toys

Over silk embroidered sheets

Where kink and pleasure meets

In bed with Cinderella

Covered in a gold umbrella

He cannot feel the distain

From the angry neon rain

So praise him

His money train

Or walk away wet

In the neon rain

 

 

 

 

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Making A Plan

 

IMAGE DESCRIPTION DATA

It happened far too early when

The walls of his playpen fell in

Somber loneliness rushed the gate

Followed him out to the playground

Alone in a crowd of children

Hurt he was

Making a plan

An education met with sneers

Weight of the world in a backpack

Classrooms without principles

Falling victim to ridicule

Alone in the lunchroom

Friendless he was

Making a plan

Meaningless tasks they call a career

A hamster wheel in race full of rats

A medical plan does not make the man

Internal decay what’s a madman to do

Bide some time make some cash

Disillusioned he was

Making a plan

Over the border to where nobody watches

To purchase the power he could never obtain

A lifetime of angst on top of his back

A life of ridicule and rage inside his coat

Concealing his emotions he concealed a gun

Fed up with his life

He had a plan

Remember my name

When you assign the blame

I’m the monster from under your bed

My bullet tranquilizer

Is a great equalizer

Its society sins for which they have bled

My memoir to you

Of what I must do

Shredding lives of families I won’t ever meet

Many people will die

At the blink of an eye

Until you get all the death sticks off of the street

 

 

He held his yesterdays tight in his hands

But it always slipped through his fingers

On his journey of self destruction

He took us all along

As was his plan

Natal Anniversary

bd

 

Today is my sixtieth natal anniversary. I’m not looking for acknowledgment or birthday wishes because all it means is I have been able to stay alive on this spinning globe as it completed sixty laps around the sun. So if anyone deserves credit its gravity because gravity did all the work. But holy shit man I’m sixty, or as I prefer to call it sexty. Well sexty if anyone has a thing for potbellied dudes with receding, or maybe disappearing, hairlines, crows feet, and wrinkles.

The truth is I’m as surprised as anyone that I lasted this long but I have. I really believed after sixty years I would be a lot wiser than I am but that’s just another one of those life fallacies, older and wiser. Now when I was in my twenties I knew absolutely everything. Until I reached my thirties which is when I began thinking perhaps I didn’t know absolutely everything, perhaps there were still a few things I could learn. Then came the forties and I realized I didn’t know shit about life. The forties was like an epiphany of the self. Time to start making a serious attempt at understanding life. When the fifties hit it was like being run over by a dump truck. Things that worked overtime on my body began demanding shorter work weeks. My children and my brothers and sisters children where all starting their own families. My fifties is when I looked at myself in the mirror and asked, “When the Hell did this happen? When did I get old?” Well it sneaks up on us without warning which is why I total support the theory of living life to the fullest, keep an understanding at how precious and quick our lives are.

I don’t know what my sixties will hold for me aside from in four years being able to relate fully to The Beatles When I’m Sixty-four tune but I will promise one thing. I won’t waste my time and energy figuring out the mysteries of life but continue to enjoy them while fighting daily to not become a sixty something grumpy old man. I have never forgotten the child in me and this is certainly no time to start hiding him. I will continue to be the best I can be and I will share myself with all of you free from any judgement because as I see it I have no right to judge anyone else for being themselves when being myself is the only thing I could ever be. Happy birthday to me, Love and Peace to you

 

Dying To Find Out (The story of JT’s Afterlife)

after

 

Like many people I’ve often pondered what will happen to me after I die. Once we pass our expiration date do we get recycled, start again as someone new? Are we limited to the option of floating on clouds with wings and a harp or burning forever with the evilest most vile horned creature from under our childhood beds? Is it another step toward reaching our Nirvana? Or do we just cease existing altogether? Well this is the story of the very day I found my answer. This is the story of my afterlife experience…….

 

 

 

I

“Sir do you want fries with that?” Mmmm, fries. “Why yes indeed my young friend, supersize me with an extra large, I deserve a break today.” Of course I wanted a break it was on of those time I felt an need, no an entitlement to splurge a little and pay my homage to the demons of poor life choices. A really rough week was how I justified having that humongous cholesterol popping double bacon cheeseburger and free fatty acid dripping fries laden with sodium on that one fateful night. What the Hell, I’m all for freeing fatty acids and cheeseburgers come in second only to double cheese and pepperoni covered pizza. Holy guacamole what a tasty burger, better than a Kahuna burger although honestly I never really had one of those. I was having a bacon burger Royall that just begged for a can of Fosters. A jumbo half pound of grease splattering all meat hamburger topped with six slices of sodium laced fat filled hickory smoked bacon and four slices of lactose laden sharp cheddar cheese. All on this delicious sesame seed bun with “secret sauce”. It was the cholesterol lovers special, a sacrificial lamb to the great prophet Angina, patron saint of clogged arteries. It was oh so delicious going down and man oh man it just melted away the stress giving me that all warm and fuzzy feeling in my stomach.. The grease spots on my bag of extra large fries advertised an accompaniment of deep fried deliciousness. This meal was an orgasm and a half for my taste buds who were merrily dancing with reckless abandon all over my mouth. I’m telling you brothers and sisters, when you have the three B’s, life is good. Beer, bacon, and burgers. Collectively they make everything feel all tingly and giddy but as I would soon find out this particular evening that tingling was much more than the usual comfort food rumblings. All that warm and fuzzy tingling on the inside was actually a war erupting deep in my entrails and not a jovial taste bud enlightenment producing the happy tango in my belly

Unbeknownst to yours truly there was an acidic uprising throughout my gastric battlefields. The war of the small and large intestines was fully engaged and acids were bouncing and flying around everywhere. An all out acid attack was underway which was bad enough, but even worse, in cardiac central a shock and awe campaign was in full flight. While the intestines battled it out they sent waves of nausea up through the esophagus in a campaign to create a reflux warning. Tossing and turning, tumbling and churning, the gastro intestinal system did its best to raise the threat level to red and wake me up. But the eight or so beers and the large glass of boxed wine had seen to it that nothing short of an absolute hydrogen explosion or an atomic uprising would wake me from my comatose sleep. The battle ensued and intensified through the evening as much of the fat from the bacon, cheese, and hamburger had forced their way past the intestine walls and into the already wreaked liver. There it jumped on the hemoglobin transport and took the main artery directly to first coronary quadrant. The transport emptied exactly where the cholesterol had been preparing for its moment. The bad cholesterol, the axis of digestive tract evil had been planning for this event over the years, setting up roadblocks all along the arteries to prevent supplies from passing through to reach the life center. If it can cut off all paths to the heart an prevent the flow of life giving liquids to blood pumping center the evil cholesterol will be declared the winner! The blood supply line was doing its best to bring humanitarian supplies to the heart, but this huge bacon cheeseburger gave cholesterol just the advantage it needed to create a proper blockage. Now it can shut down its opponent forever. Without blood flow its just a matter of time. My time had run out, sad to say not a victim of a heinous crime, not dead from a car accident, not an overdose of illicit joy enhancers, not even a natural disaster for me to blame for my demise. Only person to blame was the man in the mirror, the man who knew damn well that all those poor choices would one day take their toll an this was the day. In the end I guess I’m glad I was asleep at the time because I never saw it coming, but stay tuned because what follows death is the issue at hand.

Now back to the fateful event. I’m not exactly sure how to put it into words but I was feeling lethargic, which isn’t completely unusual at this time of night given my hard job and party lifestyle. Still there seemed something a bit more strange to it that night. I mean sure the beer made me woozy and sleepy, and the work its gonna take to digest that huge bacon cheeseburger is taking a lot out of me, but still an unusual amount of lethargy. An almost sinister lethargy was settling over me. A few Zantac washed down with a tall cup of wine should take the edge off and then I could enjoy a serious chillax on the couch. I mumbled, “never again!” How many times have I said that? Ell this time my dear friends I meant it. This was my final dance, my last call.

The Zantac and wine combo platter successfully masked the sensation but not the reality. Having finished the mind numbing exercise of staring at the glowing colored pixels flowing out from the TV screen to process a multitude of worthless information it was time to turn in. I’m just flat out tired as shit and went to bed unaware it would be my last sleep. TBC

 

THE ARTIST

artist

 

 

Standing naked before you

Vulnerable and afraid

Anguish in word

Trepidation in song

Emotionally blurred

Trembling brushes

Their soul on display

Frightened waits the artist

Awaiting applause

Fearing the ridicule

But our art is our cause

 

Using potions and lotions to mask our emotions

As we parade our wounds and our scars

For your gratification we suffer frustration

Then go drowning our sorrows at bars

 

A cavalcade of mental lacerations

Through the center of town

See the procession of distressed musings

The Splendor of our pain

In plain sight for all to enjoy

We’ll allow you a glimpse

Into a world of macabre

Struggles we faced

With love we tussle and toil

A labor of love

To help shed a light

Bring radiance to the obscure

Lucidity in an enigmatic abstract

Luster from our souls

Wounded yet strong

Brighten the path of our pith

Allowing you to see into our thoughts

 

To see yourself

Art is a mirror

A reflection of you

Distortedly real

In my mind

Harshly we judge ourselves so the judges won’t give us new pains

We carry on

Enduring torture in living

Tempered by numbness

To help show the way

The teardrops flow at the strum of a string

Someone singing a song of despair

Painful pictures of reality

Or sweet memories to canvass

In word, in song, in pictures

We see life and report

Groaning from lessons so hard

Disparagement festers in my heart

Flowing through my fingertips

Connected to my mind

Creative thought

Born of aches

Shared internal

Shaken from sneers

Fragile

Ready to bare the soul

Reality is sometimes hard

Not always kind

If you’re sighted yet still remain blind

We let you see inside with our creative wings in flight

We struggle in our darkness so you can see the light

Artists…..show them love but

Handle with care

 

Unfinished Yesyerday

unfinished

 

Tomorrow

One day early

Yesterday

One day late

Today is the day

Make something happen

Celebrate

 

Don’t worry about tomorrow

It knows the way

Don’t live in your history

It never stays

Yesterday is gone

Today will be great

Celebrate

 

Tomorrow is a future someday way back when

Stay inside the now

Today

Before it becomes yesterday

And re-occurs

As it always does

Not gonna fill my closet with regrets

Or store broken dreams hidden in my attic

Don’t wanna end up with a pile of would have beens

And mountains of wish I hads

Too steep to climb

Woulda coulda shoulda

Believe me I have scads

Wandering aimlessly

Procrastinated into complacency

Graciously waiting patiently

For hope to fill the vacancy

Now all the piles are swept away

And all I have left today

Is too many unfinished yesterdays

History is important

But the most important history

Is the history you make today

 

River Of Love

river

 

Reveling we glistened

Sensual luminescence

Kissed by the sun

Hedonic happy days

Owned by the sunrise

Romantic evenings

Belonged to the moon

On the River of Love

Fires of devotion

Rose above the bank

Celebrating a love

Blazing eternal

An epoch ago

Owners of the night

We dreamt by day

So many sunsets

Passed over our eyes

Searing our hearts

Combusting our souls

Swimming impassioned

Smoldering erotic across

The Burning River of Love

 

Two bodies entwined

In ancient ritual

Embracing naked

Waxing euphoric

Aroused by desire

Charred from passion

Rapturously content

Until we stumbled

In the wake of a flood

Joined by our ghosts

From our own shadows

Swept up in the current

Pulled apart

Three times under

Drowning in the River of Love

Separated we travel

Gradient in thought

Split across two rapids

Distant cascading rumblings

Unable to negotiate

An alliance of paradise

Our pact of unity

Ruptured

Forming new rivulets

Searching new ground

Dew drops from our eyes

Glistened in the morning reeds

Pieces of our hearts

Floating our own ways

Down The River of Love

 

Sometimes that’s just the way the river flows

Love follows the path of least resistance

Though at times it seems hard maneuvering

Rolling and dancing changing downstream

The river it always holds the promise of love

Drink in the river and sing its song of love

Jump in the water and let it take you along

Though its waters sometimes run treacherous

And the river charts the course of its choosing

Its always worth the ride

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Apathetic Winds Of Freedom

My Props to the Beat poets who changed our perceptions and ushered in an era of open mindedness

People fighting over flags

Killing for biscuits

that’s nowhere

Why should I care

I know what happens when you resist

Get caught in the wind of hate

Blow away

Not me

I just don’t care

I’m not chasing no windmills

Not for tulips anyway

Not gonna cut off my ear

Just to hear some music

Holding on to my sanity

Don’t need help from no stranger

I’m just gonna ride in the wind

The wind of apathy

For free

Bag your own groceries dude

I don’t work for you

I’m not your rag time man

I’m not taking no stand

I won’t vote for you

Ill be late for the debate

You can be the vice president

Makes you important I don’t care

My bag if full of unclean air

I am I said

Pathetically apathetic

So ill never drive a Lexus

Big deal

Never float on a luxury hotel

So what

Ill walk the mile if need be

In my own damn moccasins

Rather than take biscuit crumbs

From the tables of affluence

I don’t want their spare change

Maybe I’ll just go wind sailing

Riding high in the sky

Riding my apathy

To nowhere in particular

You think you’re free?

You’re a marionette

Don’t get choked by the strings

There ain’t Blue Fairy

No island of pleasure

Freedom is hazardous people

You really have to want it

You can’t keep it in your garage

You can’t hold it for yourself

You have to let it go

Set it free in the winds

The winds of apathy

 

 

 

 

 

Broken

break

 

 

 

 

Woke up confused

Eyes shut open wide

Remembered a dream

Love so deep inside

Passion in the air

Undiluted truth

Silk and satin sheets

Unbridled youth

Was it a fantasy

Cosmic deception

Maybe just a wish

Looking for perception

Heaven?

Hell?

Hard to tell

But we were

What we were

Riding supernova waves

High on living life

Sleeping in the sun

Rising up at noon

Loving in the dark

Shadows in the night

Crying in the stars

Laughing at the moon

Until one day

My smile

Got up and left

Leaving a void in its wake

Much too soon

 

Pain

Tattooed on my soul

Dismay

A scar in my heart

Anger

In tears that I cry

Despair

From falling apart

Desolation

Promised sorrow

Bleakness

My one true belief

Hurt

Left in the wake

Death

Omnipresent relief

 

Apathetic Winds Of Freedom

beat

 

My Props to the Beat poets who changed our perceptions and ushered in an era of open mindedness

People fighting over flags

Killing for biscuits

that’s nowhere

Why should I care

I know what happens when you resist

Get caught in the wind of hate

Blow away

Not me

I just don’t care

I’m not chasing no windmills

Not for tulips anyway

Not gonna cut off my ear

Just to hear some music

Holding on to my sanity

Don’t need help from no stranger

I’m just gonna ride in the wind

The wind of apathy

For free

Bag your own groceries dude

I don’t work for you

I’m not your rag time man

I’m not taking no stand

I won’t vote for you

Ill be late for the debate

You can be the vice president

Makes you important I don’t care

My bag if full of unclean air

I am I said

Pathetically apathetic

So ill never drive a Lexus

Big deal

Never float on a luxury hotel

So what

Ill walk the mile if need be

In my own damn moccasins

Rather than take biscuit crumbs

From the tables of affluence

I don’t want their spare change

Maybe I’ll just go wind sailing

Riding high in the sky

Riding my apathy

To nowhere in particular

You think you’re free?

You’re a marionette

Don’t get choked by the strings

There ain’t Blue Fairy

No island of pleasure

Freedom is hazardous people

You really have to want it

You can’t keep it in your garage

You can’t hold it for yourself

You have to let it go

Set it free in the winds

The winds of apathy

 

 

 

 

 

SON

son

 

He’s a man

But not just any man

A great man forged in flame

Pushed to the ground

Forced to rise up again

Despite the hardship of his name

The sins of the mother

Upon his shoulders

Burdens he has had his share

The sins of the father

Around his neck

So much weight he has had to bear

 

I have wandered the sewers

Scaled mountains of shame

I swam in the river of sin

Despite all my misgivings

He came back to my door

A privilege to let him come in

Never once did he judge me

Showed me nothing but love

Listened intently to all I spoke of

We stood together united

Father and son

Taught each other the value of love

 

So proud now I stand

Praising the man

The man who like an eagle has soared

Not merely a son

The man has become

So much more than the man he adored

 

Great men are forged in fire

It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame

PEACE