Graveyard Of Confusion

grave

The acrid smell of a forced suicide
Mixed with bitter taste of disillusion
Rising in sheets from under my feet
Death in the graveyard of confusion

Laying inside this musky black box
Breathing once tasteless odors of life
Exhaling death with each and every breath
Bearing scars from the Grim Reapers knife

Primordial vomit from deep under the earth
Coughed up in stench from the breath of Satan
Wrapping a putrid and vile solution of bile
In confusion I stared at them vacant

Are they all here to give me a ride
Passenger of death or just an illusion
Confusion reigns king in the suicide ring
Around the graveyard of confusion

For Your Amusement

amuse

(To A Special Man)
He was my brother not of blood but of heart
I never realized he was battered and broken
But inside his head a stranger was lurking
The only man who could hear the words unspoken

Just words on some paper was all that he left me
Finding him with his demons was truly not fun
I loved that man who left me paper and blood
Words from the barrel of a dying man’s gun

For Your Amusement

I fail
that’s what I do
Its what I’m real good at
So I do it a lot
I fail to hear laughter
I fail to see smiles
I fail for your amusement
Across thousands of miles
I failed as a father
I failed as a son
I failed as a husband
Just failed everyone
I failed as a man
Its what I do best
I failed every challenge
And failed every test
Its my biggest talent
Failing on queue
If you want some amusement
I’ll fail just for you
I can fail at most anything
So give me a call
I may fail to pick up
But I won’t fail to fall
I’ll fail at your party
Right on your command
Fail under pressure
Fail on demand
If you want to see a man take his last breath
Ill make it happen by failing to death
For your amusement

Rock In Peace gentle brother, save me a seat

Failure

failure

Failure

Is the measure of a persons life what they leave behind
Was he rich, was he poor, was he at least kind
The value of boundless mirth
Measured in compassion
To our death and from our birth
What was my life worth
Everything on earth

Is the measure of a soul in the pile of toys they owned
How often they got stoned
Did they die alone
Or part of the cheering crowd
Boisterous and loud
Or silently in prayer
Is that the way to compare if living life was ever fair
Taken on a dare
Or is it all just air

Was the value of the person measured in all their failure
Live in a penthouse or a trailer
God or Satan as the jailor
Living a life of mortal sin
To not have reached potential of what could have been
Or should have been
The rise and fall of mighty dreams that would have been
Had my failures not been so crappy
Destroying the self to make them happy
To live inside of their acclaim
Shed the shame and play their game
Because all they asked was make a name
Be someone else
Anyone else
Other than the failure I became

The Day I Died

day died

So this is it!? Not how I thought I would die that’s for sure, I was certain I would be killed in a car crash or something equally spectacular or at least condusive to how I lived. Like back in the day I thought I would either OD on drugs, or in a bar fight too drunk to defend myself but drunk enough to say something stupid to put me in a dangerous situation. One thing I was sure of is it wouldn’t be suicide, I always play the hand dealt no matter how shitty the cards. I will admit though like a lot of people I have over the years contemplated if suicide was an answer. You know, during any one of the countless worst moments ever! So now I’m laying here feeling the life slowly seep out of my body. At this point I’m oddly serene, maybe even ready. Finally after all the years of meditating and practicing out of the box strange arts rituals I’m having a true out of body experience.
Its not like I obsess about death. Okay maybe a little now that I think about how much of my writings revolve around death, but everyone obsesses about death a little. Or at least have often pondered about their own best if used by date or at the very least how and when they’ll expire. With the exception of a few sick bastards we all hope our death will be quick and painless when our time comes. Mostly I think because we work ourselves up in a tizzy from viewing or reading about so many horrible deaths. Ghost stories, zombie apocalypse, serial killer stories and that’s just the nightly news. I personally watch an assortment of television shows delving into the minds and actions of evil, laced with just enough violence to make me wonder why I suffer from insomnia. Movies and shows with people being buried alive, (OMFG, not that one please), murdered for money, shot during the commission of a crime, revenge killings, chainsaw hacking (far worse than computer hacking), military explosions, viral infections, even tortured to a slow death by someone with the sadistic tendencies of the old Marquis De Sade and the pain bringing skill of Jack Bauer. One of my own worst case scenario’s is suffocation. I grew up near a beach where we used to play chicken diving down in deep water to come up with a handful of sand to prove you made it, and on a few occasions I was worried I wouldn’t make it back up in time only to spring out of the water panting like an Eskimo Sled Dog that took a wrong turn on the Iditarod then ran all the way to the equator. Television and movies have given me a plethora of horrible and unwanted deaths so all in all I guess dying from a gunshot wound ain’t so bad in the scheme of things. I mean either I’ll go into shock soon or I’ll get pumped up with morphine so an ending like this is almost welcome.
Anyway, I don’t think I have much time left so I won’t waste it philosophizing over which manner of death is or isn’t cool. How did I end up with a bullet in my chest? Damned if I know, I was just going about my normal day when I heard a few loud bangs. At first I thought some asshole kids were shooting off cherry bombs or M80’s or something, until I saw people with an unmistakable look of terror on their faces scattering around, diving to the ground behind cars or whatever. Not me! Oh no, I was doing my usual head in the cloud meandering taking care of errands when I felt someone punch me in the chest. I say punch, but it felt more like my chest was catching for a Cy Young pitcher’s fastball. Before I knew it I was on my back looking up at telephone wires and tree tops. Within seconds I felt the warm syrupy blood spreading across my tee shirt. I tried to look down at it but my head wouldn’t move. I grabbed my chest with both hands and felt the blood oozing between my fingers. My first thought was who the hell hit me. Then I thought oh shit almighty I need to do a finger in the dyke maneuver or something. Finally it sunk in and I thought, holy shit, I think I’ve been shot.
I laid there with my chest throbbing and pulsing at the same time. I tried to cry but nothing came out, not even a gasp. It was hard just breathing. WTF? Did it hit a lung or something. Seconds passed by or minutes maybe, IDK, I’d lost all sense of time and reason. That’s it man, I’m freaking dying. Hope I have clean underwear on or my Mom will pissed, that is if I go to wherever she is. I soon, or maybe not so soon realized the pulsing and pounding pain were fading. Taking a breath on the other hand was harder than ever. Next I’m laying here and the pain subsided completely so either I’m getting close to the end or shock has set in. I guess this is the point where my life is supposed to flash before my eyes but honestly I am a bit too tired to watch my own rerun. All I want to do is sleep. Wait, what’s this? Someone is putting their hands on my chest and there’s a lot of commotion, people and noises all around me and people touching me. Appropriately. That’s weird, the noise is oddly soft and fading in and out, not loud and chaotic. Oh oh, the sound seems to be fading out completely along with my eyesight. I know words are being said but they don’t sound like words, more like muffled reverberating sounds. I think I hear sirens but I’m not sure if they’re far off or just more of an illusion. I think I feel some people picking up my body and putting it on some stretcher or something but it doesn’t matter, too little too late. I feel my essence, my very being slipping out through the hole in my chest along with the flow of blood. Weakness took over and silence is filling in my ears now. My last breath, my last whimper. Time to pronounce, wanna make the call doctor? (I watched a few medical shows too) No more anything, done, over, ipso facto, adios ghost, see ya later terminator. Nothing more to do, no more fun and laughs, no more tears and pain, only darkness. My final game of Clue. Colonel Deranged Stranger , on the street, with a handgun!
My Epilogue

It feels unnatural being dead. I see my body in a sort of file cabinet awaiting confirmation of who I am. I’ve seen a lot of morgues on TV and movies but its way less spooky and far too clinical and dare I say cold. I am at this very moment preparing to move on to my next phase and frankly I’m a little excited. Aside from my obsession with dying and death I’ve always had a deeper obsession with the afterlife and now I’m about to find out for real. Am I going before a judge with angel wings, on a hot escalator to Hell, into some weird meeting place for everyone who died, preparing for reincarnation, or just going to sleep? If I can tell you when I get there I will, but I’m afraid they may have rules about “spoilers” in the afterlife. But before I embark on my new journey I’m just curious about something. We….oops, sorry not used to this yet, I mean you live in a society that actually has sub-genres of killings. Random shootings, (like mine), School shootings, Mall shootings, workplace shootings. You have witnessed hundreds of families go through hell after their child’s school was shot up, or someone’s father and mother were murdered for shopping in the wrong place, yet you continue to bicker and fight over personal rights for gun ownership without thinking twice about having to jump through hoops to get a drivers license and registering your car. I mean people get arrested for not keeping their license current, or cars are removed for violations of non registration and non insurance. One could argue cars don’t kill people, people do, and on some level maybe that’s true, but that’s why we have global wide regulations for moving vehicles. Are peoples lives so insignificant that you can’t come to a reasonable compromise that will allow responsible people who want to own guns get them in a reasonable and safe manner, like I don’t know, a handling, care, and using of firearm mandatory class? Kinda like the driving thing ya know what I mean? Is arguing and posturing and allowing corporations sway the voting the best you can do as a society? If that’s so then I guess I really am in a better place as has been suggested.(overheard actually) I have no idea what’s next for my dead ass, but take some advice from a dead guy with nothing to lose. Do something more than just cry about amendments on paper and protect the actual living breathing lives of the innocent. If you all don’t start to take this gun thing real serious and do more than just talk about it after every shooting, wherever I’m going now is gonna get a lot more crowded far too soon. Peace

TODAY

today

Today is the day
Felt oddly alive
The moment it arrived
Its not here to stay
And it feels so contrived
Am I really gonna die?
I could wait until the morrow
Postpone the sorrow
Live on time borrowed
But its today
The day that makes all the difference
Going the distance
This day here
And now
Today
It could be gone in an instant
With a grimace
Good riddance
Quit grinning
It’s the ninth inning
And today’s the day
To make scarlet ribbons
No more misgivin’s
The edge of the blade
Options weighed
Charades played
Then I fade
Into the darkness
No light
No sight
Am I taking flight
Quite right
It’s ending
No mending
Or comprehending
Why
Why must I die?
Die from this strife
At the point of a knife
What’s the point of life
Struggling away
Day after day
Shit piling so high
A fecal buffet
A scentless bouquet
Stinking of decay
Waltzing to death
In a blood ballet
Danced to the tune
Of everyday ruin
From my womb to my tomb
The perfume of doom
Is rising today
No more delay
Today is the day
Alone in the dark
Making my mark
Lines on my wrist
I won’t be missed
I won’t exist
Can you hear when I say
My life’s an ashtray
So today is the day
The day on the run
My final one
My day
Today

Reboot, An Evolutionary Tale

part 2

Previously:

I’ve nothing but time young dude, so help an old man out here, what’s going on? Are you with the Geek Death Squad?”

Hey, are like Gandalf or something man? Is this Middle Earth here?”

“You head is spinning because of the buffering JT, it’s a side effect of dying. It will go away once your operating system is renewed.”

Fuck Dee Bays, I’m going where I wanna go dead or not! Stick it myself?! I‘ll stick it where the fucking sun don‘t shine baby. One last ride downstream, to hell with Interface Mountain.
II
The anger began subsiding while having fun jumping from rock to rock attempting to negotiate my way downstream. The ice cold water rushed up over my feet, some rocks were slippery some not so much but all in all I just had a great time laughing and jumping. Who needs serenity? Rock jumping was always one of the most fun things my friends and I did when we were teens on our vacations in the Catskills. Criss-crossing the streams looking for the water falls, stopping to smoke some weed here and there, just the most carefree days ever. Those were the days man, getting stoned, listening to rock, climbing rocks, riding down waterfalls, skinny dipping, making love out in wilderness, doing whatever we wanted without a worry in the world. It was so much fun and so relaxing. I was so into the memories I barely even noticed that the fish in the stream were hopping along following me downstream until I heard one speak. Yea, yea, I know, it sounds all hallucinationy and trippy, a little too much THC, but I hadn’t smoked anything in ages and wasn’t in possession of anything now. But I had no doubt it was a fish talking when it jumped out of the water addressing me directly , “Isn’t this great? Makes me feel so serene.” I laughed, partially because a fish was speaking to me and partially because I was feeling giddy, “Yea your right there Mr. Trout, it is almost serene. Its actually…..wait….Did you say SERENE?” Trouts were now jumping all over the place. I heard a stupid fish tell me it felt serene, just like the old dude wanted me enjoy. Co-incidence? No way! I spoke to all the trouts in a voice loud enough for all to hear, “Okay, way to weird, there’s something fishy here!” The trout all began jumping and giggling, “We’re all fishy JT, on a scale of one to fin, we are most definitely fin possessing talking fish.” Now I’m conversing with a group of rainbow trouts! “Cut the shit! Fish can’t talk, is that you old dude?” But the giggling touts wouldn’t stop, I felt like I was trapped in some Billy The Big Mouth Bass infomercial. My own personal Hell, a bunch of fish making fun of me. “Old dude old dude fish can’t talk, young dude young dude fish can’t walk.” A chorus of trout singing like school children. One trout stopped in front of me peering up from some rocks, “Fish can’t talk? Says who JT? We have always talked, you just never cared enough to listen JT. You humans are so wrapped up in your own worlds you never take the time out to try and communicate with other species unless its for your benefit or pleasure. You trap animals in labs for testing, stick us in zoos or aquariums so your kids can gawk at us, or pen us up and force feed us to make us big so we can feed and clothe you. You always act like you’re the most important thing on this planet but you’re far from it. Only in your deaths are you ever properly humbled. That’s why you guys only get rebooted. You’re no longer a part of the cycle of life, you disregard the laws of nature. Time for you to leave this stream, you don’t belong here. We don‘t want you here.” All the other trout had become silent creating a pounding silence that I remembered all too well. All the times I got into real bad trouble with Mom and Dad they would gang up on me to grill me with questions and accusations to near breaking point. I remember the silence thundering out a pulsating uneasy rhythm, a loud yet inaudible thumping warning me that I had no way out, I was caught. Busted. This is absurd! I want to cry because a trout just put me in my place. I felt a tear sneak out and roll down my cheek. As if on cue a towel hit the top of my forehead and covered my face. “Wipe off the tears JT, time to go.”
I recognized the voice in an instant. Old dude. “Hey man what was that all about? You get talking fish to make a point for you? Then force me to dredge up an unpleasant childhood memory? Why, just because I wouldn’t do what you wanted me to? Okay I get, I get it, you win old dude. I’ll go to the top of the mountain. Just no more of this weird shit man, it’s freaking me out. I just wanna get this over with.” I waded through the stream to the bank in the direction the towel had come from. “You don’t need to climb anywhere JT, you’re at the top of Interface Mountain.” I wiped my face with the towel and looked around astonished. Sure enough, I was at the top of the mountain looking at an amazing waterfall just below my feet. The water shot out a good ten feet over the mountain to what had to be a two hundred yard drop of sparkling silver sheets of moving water. “How the…what the….I thought you said you weren’t a wizard old dude?” Old dude was now sitting in front of me suspended in air without visible support, “I’m not a wizard JT, I’m a cloud, a data base. Its not Dee Bays, its D-Base. I am all the genetic information of humanity, the database of human existence and evolution. You’re here to be rebooted into another human life form but first I am attempting to load some information into you so the next human will grow up with some of your memories.” He placed his hand gently under my chin and closed my gaping jaw, “Wait, what? You’re implanting memories in me before letting die? I don’t get it, why?” Before I knew it I was sitting suspended in front of him. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, I mean I’ve been through a very strange death ordeal, the geek, Gandalf here, the mountain, talking to some angry trout, so why not float on air while some cloud injects me with memories? Sounds pretty plausible. “Not implant false memories in you JT, just pass along your DNA with a little more information designed to get humans back on track in evolutionary terms. Not so much passing you memories but more like echoes of memories. Did you ever just know something and not remember why you knew it, or gone somewhere familiar? Or see a place that intrigues you an you can’t figure out why? That’s not coincidence JT, its memory echoes of previous lives. You have echoes in your head that track back as far as the dawn of civilization. Take the fight or flight gene, or the fact that toxins smell putrid to you. Those are echoes you have from previous lives, ones who discovered the hard way that toxins can kill. That’s what evolution does, it takes these echoes and creates new defenses and strategies from them. Unfortunately, somewhere shortly before the Agricultural Revolution humans began practicing rituals that go against the law of nature. Life my son is a system of perfect synergies. Trees absorb the energy from the sun, supply homes to millions of creatures, give us oxygen, and when they die they feed millions of micro-organisms which are eaten by insects. The insects are eaten by larger predators and those predators eaten by even larger ones. And when creatures die they feed the vegetation through decomposition. A perfect system. Well perfect until humans began burning their dead, bogarting the vegetation, and killing other creatures because they MAY eat plants you determined you could own. You can’t own things that grow freely, but humans don’t care about that, they lock up food keeping it away, tear apart ecosystems to build factories. You destroy more than you create. Progress is one thing, you’re evolving to be smarter yet you still aren’t smart enough to see how life works. Not just for humans, but for all things.”

I really had to mull this over, I mean I dig that he‘s right about some things but we need to survive as a species. I can think of a number of assholes that could use some of his echoes, but why me? “So stop me if you heard this before, you want to plant that info into my DNA like a gene splice, send me down the river where I’ll be what? Born again? Are you Gandalf the Baptist or something? This is crazy man. Listen old dude, all due respect, but I am not like that, I care about the planet and what humans do to it. Okay, I may not belong to Greenpeace, I’m no Ralph Fucking Nader or anything but I did my part and I love animals. Not like throw red paint on a mink coat PETA love but loved none the less. I understand we treat animals real shitty sometimes and I wasn’t like a vegan or anything but I understood and disliked the way animals were treated. Hunting for sport seemed selfish and wrong to me. I respected other life forms and have always kept an open mind about life. Now I’m dead and you keep playing head games trying to make me feel bad about how humans have acted and frankly G its not my damn fault. I care and I understand. Why not peddle this stuff to the jerks who need it” Old dude was smiling like he had just sunk my Battleship. “Yes JT, and where do you think your feelings came from? Evolution takes many years, many generations and your generation was a big step. But lately humans have been stepping backwards and going back to the old school concept of destroy whatever doesn’t fit your needs. So we are renewing our efforts to help save humanity by reprogramming your evolution. That cable I gave you is loaded with echoes which you will pass on in an attempt to get humanity back on track before they destroy themselves completely. If humans don’t evolve correctly there will be no need for an asteroid to cause mass extinction, you guys will blow the whole planet up by yourselves. The cable is attached to your body, just take the other end just like a USB terminal, plug it in over there then ride the falls to your reboot.”
I felt for the cable and sure enough, it was attached like an adult umbilical chord. I stuck the other end into a waiting socket and the sensation of spinning returned. I was buffering. I turned to look at Gandalf one last time and jumped into the waterfalls into total darkness. Wonder who I’ll be this time.

Reboot , An Evolutionary Tale

reboot

Part I

Last thing I remember was sudden darkness and the sound of shattering glass all around accompanied by a coarse rhythm of twisting crunching metal. Car accident? Yes, yes that’s it, I was driving down the highway in a mad rush because I was late for work and then…..and then… then what? Everything is so damn foggy. Wait! Where am I? Feels like I’m in the haze of dry ice smoke at a rock show but maybe its?…Well it sure don’t smell like weed so probably not a rock show but where am I? What’s with all the smoky mist? I was in my car on the way to work and what? Oh shit now I remember, some asshole came across the median and right into……. Oh fuck, I was in a bad accident, I’m in a hospital. Yea, that’s it, I’m in a hospital and….. No wait, that can’t be right, the mist, no tubes or wires, no beeps, not in a bed, I’m…ah I’m in a…No! Wait! I’m fucking dead man? My flair for the dramatic not yet dead I paused for effect…..That’s when it began to settle into my head. I was killed in a car accident and now I’m in….. In where? The morgue? Heaven? Purgatory? The “Heaven Can Wait” waiting room? Is my AS2 guardian angel Clarence Odbody coming to take me away and earn his wings? But that’s not possible, I’m an existentialist, and if there is God he isn’t about to let me hang out on his turf, he’d probably send me to one of those special places I hear them talk about in churches. So then just where the Hell am I, pardon the expression? Actual Hell? As I was pondering my death fate a loudspeaker broke the unearthly silence. “Hilltop, Justin Thyme? Is there a JT Hilltop here?”
Before I heard this announcement I was merely confused. I thought I was all alone but I must be in a group of some sort and someone is paging me. Now its like “Peeewwww…. Mind blown!” Here I am trying to figure out what the hell is going on with my death when I get mind-fucked by a loudspeaker. Do I stand up or do I pretend I didn’t hear it? I was right at the point of making a decision when I noticed standing right in front of me was a young dude. “You’re JT, yes?” I gave this, this, umm, entity the once over. A nerdy looking kid somewhere in his late twenties with thick rimmed glasses and a bargain store suit that was a bit to big for his small clunky frame. He had thick but very short dark black hair and not a hint of a smile on his face. He didn’t even look my way as he was running his eyes over something on a clipboard waiting for confirmation from me. After a few seconds of silence he spoke in a monotone voice, “Don’t make this difficult Mr. Hilltop, you’re already dead so you really have nowhere else to go. Just come with me please.” He never even waited for acknowledgement just began walking away. I stood and blindly followed out of the misty mist.
At first I was kinda hoping he was in search of his lost personality but I wasn’t gonna wait to find out. I decided I would try and engage this nerd so maybe he could help acclimate me as to just where I was, “So this is your job? You come to bring the dead to their destination? Who exactly are you working for?” His pace quickened, “Something like that Mr. Hilltop. I work for no one and everyone now just come along please, no time for idle chatter.” I processed his statement. No time? Maybe he has no time but if I’m dead what the fuck do I care about time? “I have nothing but time young dude, so help an old man out here, what’s going on? Are you with the Geek Death Squad?” The nerd shook his head as though I was exasperating to him, “Mr.Hilltop you died! You have ceased to exist. You were in a car accident, a drunk driver hit you head on. Looking over your file sir it seems about as an appropriate way to die as I’ve ever seen given your pension for the bottle. That or cirrhosis anyway. Your at the terminal right now, and please no lame jokes about the name terminal its been done a few million times over the years by people far less witty than you think you are. I’m your agent assigned to take you to your Sherpa who will assist you in your transition. Now please keep quiet and continue to follow me we’re nearly there.” The only sound after his stern admonition as the tapping of our feet and the cursing under my breath.
I reached the end of a hallway feeling like my head was spinning. Not really dizzy, but constantly spinning. Grumpy the young douche-nerd opened a door speaking to someone on the other side, “I have a very uncooperative Mr. Justin Thyme Hilltop here sir. He never shuts up and he is now your problem, not mine. He’s all yours Dee.” The door opened wide so I walked inside, or actually outside. I found myself on a beautiful mountain about half the way up. Surrounded by gorgeous greenery of tree’s and shrubs, the sound of running water combined with an assortment of indefinable sounds made from various animals. An old man with long white hair complete with matching silvery beard stood in front of me. “Hey, are like Gandalf or something man? Is this Middle Earth here?” The old man smiled warmly like…..well like Gandalf actually, “No Justin, I’m not Gandalf, I’m certainly no magician or wizard and this is nothing like Middle Earth. This is Interface Mountain, I am your Sherpa, Dee Bays. Its my job to lead you back to the Mainframe after discovering your rightful place. Hopefully you can be re appropriated correctly.” I chuckled, “You’re who then and this is what now? Sorry old dude but I didn’t get a word of what the hell you just said. All I wanna know is are you the one who can tell me what exactly is going on here?” The old man had very old eyes, much older than even he himself, yet they were incredibly calming. It was as though those old eyes were a separate entity that seemed to put me at ease. Old dude placed his arm over my shoulders, “It’s okay Justin, or do you really prefer JT?” I smiled, “You can call me whatever you want but I prefer JT. How much longer do I have?” The old dude let a small laugh slip out, “Are you in a hurry JT? I can speed this up if you want?” I was pretty sure he was teasing me but just in case I answered with fear and desperation, “No,no,no, seriously, I’m in no hurry. Its just….Well my head is spinning and I feel confused.” Old dude began walking up a mountain path signaling for me to follow, “You head is spinning because of the buffering JT, it’s a side effect of dying. It will go away once your operating system is renewed. When someone dies their faith dictates their destiny, and you my friend to use a Zodiac analogy, are an Existentialist with Buddhism rising. Therefore your destiny is to reach a sort of nirvana of your own through serenity. You don’t get to reincarnate exactly, no heaven or hell for you but you get to see what really happens at the top of the Hill of Life, Interface Mountain. Some get to believe they are in heaven or hell, some Jahanna or Jahannam, still others get to believe their fates are to be placed on various cycles of life. But in the end it’s all the same, everyone goes to the top of the mountain.” I thought this over in an attempt to make sense for quite some time as I aimlessly followed him up the mountain path heading toward the sound of running water which was getting closer and closer.
Within minutes we reached the source of the sound, a running stream, where old dude sat down. “Sounds serene, yes JT?” I sat as well, “Yea serene, but why would I want serene now? I mean I’m dead right? So why wouldn’t I want to take one last fast ride with blaring rock music? What’s so cool about serenity if that’s what I’m always gonna have now?” He looked at me with a hint of curiosity, “I think you are misunderstanding JT, you’re not going to be surrounded with serenity, your going to be surrounded by nothingness. No serenity, no rides, no music, nothing! This is your last chance to enjoy the feeling serenity brings so enjoy it. Once you complete the climb its just over. Nothing, kaput, nada. Your life has ended my boy and there’s no turning back, no other worlds, nothing. Everything ceases.” Suddenly those warm comforting eyes seemed cold and dispassionate, “Well then why the fuck are we doing this? Just let me fucking die for Christ’s sake!”
The old dude stood up speaking in an exhausted tone, “Maybe its best if you finish your trek alone. You’re in such a hurry to finish dying just go on ahead by yourself, stick it yourself!” He handed me some kind of cable wire, turned and walked away. Feeling a strange aloneness I began chatting myself up, “Who fucking needs him anyway. Stick it myself? What a dick, doesn’t even speak English right. I’ll stick it myself all right. Maybe I won’t even go up the mountain, maybe I’ll just run down the stream. The fuck with him man, I’m outta here.” I turned and began following the stream towards the bottom of the mountain. “Fuck Dee Bays, I’m going where I wanna go dead or not! Stick it myself?! I‘ll stick it where the fucking sun don‘t shine baby. One last ride downstream, to hell with Interface Mountain.”
TBC

Kafkaesque Love Affair

kaftkasque

Loneliness was all he had and everything he was
Developed a love with a solution and a vial
A relationship that flourished for quite a long time
Both now searching for a little place to smile

But like many lovers a possessive bond did form
Star crossed lovers in each others shadow ever bleak
Together an existence in bargain basement Nirvana
No one could listen when reasons voice would speak

Relying much too heavy across each others boundaries
Exchanging vows of love upon a bloodstained spike
Unbearable unhappiness they found the freedom to suffer
Counting out their blessing of all things that they dislike

Lacking all joy they were free to create their own martyrs
In reckless abandon enthralled in anarchistic passion love
Hopelessness and fear became their finest hour of truth
One last miserable push with the moon glowing up above

Through despair into fate they came to terms with a reality
Wishing to die they finally began to understand their lot
Together forever embraced with antagonistic emotions
Their bond of death became the twisting of their plot

The Devine Tragedy, Episode II

river

Go To Hell
J.T. Hilltop

Real horrors? Is he telling me this is the bright side of town and things get worse from here? Really? There is a hazy stench rising of the ground that’s filled with disease ridden rats and bugs, the walking dead are wandering aimlessly, and I’m negotiating my way ankle deep through a swampy slush of what I can only assume is a mixture of vomit and defecation. I really don’t think I’m gonna enjoy this you’re dead now go to Hell thing very much. I’ve always believed that when I died it would just be over, a big nothing like a never-ending nap or something. Now it seems I’m being taken on a tour of never-ending disgust and pain. Virgil grabbed my hand and led me through the throngs of the lost souls, swatting away all the bugs and kicking the deadly vermin as we walked. “We are about to go through Hells gates to the river Styx where we will take the ferry to the Rings Of Hell Proper and begin our journey. There are nine levels of Hell, each worse than the one before it and as we descend we will either be allowed passage or our journey will end on whichever level we are denied entrance. If we make it to the bottom you will meet your final judgment by Lucifer. It would be best for you to do as little speaking as possible, we will encounter many tricksters who will try and use your soul for trading.” I was about to ask him traded for what when we approached the iron gate. In a firm and deliberate voice Virgil bellowed “Aperi portam Hades” and the gate slowly opened inwards. Virgil looked at me with the first glimpse of compassion I’d seen since dying, “its time JT, lets go.”
We entered a sort of vestibule of stones with billows of smoke or something rising from the ground, but it was too dark to see real clear. It was cold and musty smelling of earth or moss. It had the feel of what I imagine a rainforest would be like, cool but humid with an omnipresent sense of danger. I didn’t see any snakes but I could hear hissing and sense their slithering movement. They paid little or no attention to us but my fear trembles assured me something was out there and I was aware of every movement . We walked for five minutes until we reached a riverbank. “We wait here for the ferryman then we will cross to the first circle. That’s when your final journey will truly begin.” I took Virgil’s advice and said nothing. After ten minutes of hearing or imagining spooky noises while trembling from the slithering of unseen snakes a boat arrived.
Standing on the boat with a long stick in his hand was a huge figure, all of ten foot tall. He had powerful muscular legs, and an upper body that made Hulk Hogan look like a wimp. Even his head was huge, but it wasn’t exactly human. The skull was the size of a beach ball with long pointed ears, as long as a rabbits but the look of a mythical elf, and enormous bulging red eyes. He looked to Virgil and with a mocking arrogant tone stated, “The dead one can come along but you must remain here, at least until you die.” His voice was deep and raspy, laced with sarcastic anger, “Choron, I am this dead ones guide, I must take him across to his judgment. As the prince states, ‘So it is wanted where the power lies’, I am on divine mission. Take this obolus as payment for your trouble.” Virgil handed the ferryman a coin and with a shrug of his shoulders he motioned for us both to get in, “Sit there amongst the blasphemes and keep your peace. Only a lunatic would cross this river without being dead.” Virgil sat next to me and whispered, “Say nothing, don’t be alarmed, its not the most pleasant ride but it‘s quick.”
Not the most pleasant ride? I’m dead, just trudged through a marsh of grossness with bugs and snakes everywhere and he’s warning me about the unpleasantness of a boat ride. The irony caused me to smile until the rocking began. Did I say rocking? The boat was going up and down and sideways at such a vigorous rough pace that nearly everyone in the boat tossed their cookies. The bottom of the boat filled up quickly with vomit as it got unbearably hot causing me to sweat profusely. The stench coming from off the water was beyond repugnant. Willows of decayed manure and stale urine sprayed up off the water and settled in on my head slowly trickling down my face. The smell was not just vile, it was thick, filling my nostrils with a smoke like substance that reeked of rotted old fish wrapped in decayed cabbage leaves. The air was literally thick of sweat, flatulence, and vomit and just as quickly as it got unbearably hot it turned to a freezing cold solidifying the sweat and whatever remnants of vile liquids covered my body. I gagged for two minutes before passing out completely.
I came to for the third time since dying laying on the opposite side of the River Styx. “What the Hell is going on here Virgil, you tell me I’m dead yet three time now I have passed out. Be honest man, is this a bad dream or a bad reaction to drugs?” Virgil stared at me like I was an idiot, “Passed out? Is that what you think is happening to you? My son each time you pass out as you say is another death, and each time you die on this voyage you come closer to your final death, the death that will be your final judgment. The fact you have gotten this far is amazing given your past. You must negotiate your way to Satan’s pit getting past him if you want to escape everlasting pain, torture, and ultimate discomfort. Now when we get to Limbo you will meet Minos who will tell you which levels of Hell Proper you’ll be allowed passage. If we survive all the rings and reach the pit we may be able to climb the mountain of salvation. Its conceivable you may very well earn entry into Paradiso, which believe me is far better than any of the alternatives here. But don’t get yourself too excited, very few ever get that far. I can tell you this my boy, you will not awaken any more times, the next death you enter will bring you to your eternal destiny. You must use all your wiles and skills if you have any hopes escape the horrors of Hell. Be prepared JT, there will be tricksters around every corner attempting to use you to gain their own freedom.” For a moment I honestly thought it was my own father speaking to me, giving me the advice in my death he was never able to in life. Use my skills, he said. What skills? I’m a gifted chef and story teller, I’ve gained some street smarts, but that’s about it. What kind of food do demons like? I began to worry for the first time since I died.
“I’m just curious Virgil, why are you taking this voyage with me? I mean what’s in it for you?” Virgil handed me some bread an a cup of honey flavored liquid, “This will give you sustenance, finish it all. I was assigned to you an have no idea why. Normally I am assigned to poets of grand scale. Perhaps it’s a mix up or perhaps you‘ve been chosen to tell of the story to reach the people of your era. You are living in a complicate epoch in a world that seems bent on self destruction. Maybe he has chosen an average story teller such as yourself to bring the message.” I pondered his words, “What o you mean average story teller? I’m just kidding Virgil, I understand what you’re saying, who were some of your other assignments?” Virgil was smiling now, I won him over, “I knew you were kidding JT, you forget I know everything. I have traveled with many great poets, authors, an artists. I’ve been at this a long time. No more talk, eat an gain strength, you will most certainly need it for the trials ahead.” I ate and drank in silence preparing myself for what lay ahead.
Virgil started walking down a path that descended towards a cave. I stood up following behind him as we entered the mouth of the cave. “This is Limbo JT, the first ring of Hell. It’s not really even part of Hell, its kin of a waiting room. The cave is filled with non Christians, the anabaptized, the moral less souls. They do nothing but are tortured by their own minds, having eternal insomnia with nothing to divert their minds. But believe me, that’s the easiest torturing of all Hell. It’s here in Limbo that the dead are given the levels of Hell that they shall either suffer in or pass through. The Assigners name is Minos, who will be your first test. If you impress him with your virtues and good deeds he may assign you to only one or two levels, and perhaps not anything too horrible. Anger him and he will send you to the depths of disgust and despair. Be on your toes son.” I took a long deep breath, “I’m ready, I will put my best foot forward.” With that we entered into vast open cavern.
It became clear enough to see everything in the cave, and the most striking thing was a giant of a man sitting perched upon a large flat boulder about ten feet above the ground. The man was about twelve foot tall wearing nothing but a dirty tattered cloth wrap which allowed his huge muscular frame to stand out. Long brownish hair in tight curls cascaded across his shoulders down to his chest. He donned a crown of thorns that seemed to mock Jesus. Time to work my charm, “Good afternoon Minos, my name is Justin, I was just telling Virgil here…” In a booming thunderous voice he cut me off, “I know exactly who you are you ignorant piece of shit. You dare to approach me calling me as a friend? You have always been a self centered sneaky conniving little shit too often drunk or stoned to have completed anything worthwhile in life. You are nothing but a fraud, a liar, a cheat, and a blaspheme. You deserve severe punishment you syphilis of a human being. You deny God so you shall spend your eternity with the other Atheist wastes in ring seven, the ring of violence. Have fun getting there JT, I’ll have fun watching you struggle you worthless shithole.” I began to protest but before I could even get a word out Virgil had grabbed me by my shoulder and firmly pulled me away, “Do you not know when to shut up JT? Take your assignment and get out before you get an even worse level.” I thought about what Virgil was saying. Worse? I don’t like the sound of that!

Under The Tyranny Of The Gun

Al-Shabaab insurgents in Somalia

Blood exchanged for diamonds
Life removed for gold
The children of a country
Are being bought and sold
Communities are frightened
Populations of fear on the run
Innocent and oppressed living and dying
Under the tyranny of the gun

Bullets are their masters
Killing helps to thin the herd
Soldiers before reaching puberty
Obey the new masters word
They’ll rape your only daughter
Make a man out of your son
Never know peace of freedom living
Under the tyranny of the gun

Guerilla warfare in a pick up truck
Weaponized citizens rule the soul
Slice off limbs to prove a point
Spilling blood to maintain control
A mothers tears can sign no treaties
No fathers wars are ever won
Take my life its not worth living
Under the tyranny of the gun