Shadows in the rocks

 

I love music but can’t sing or play a note, but as I’ve sometimes said a rhythm or melody worms it’s way inside my head asking for some lyrics, so from time to time I attempt to write some lyrics, for better or worse…

 

Scratch armed bandit
Collecting junk at night
Trying to find a balance
Get himself feelin’ right
Running with his best friend
Baby girl in flight
Shooting powdered milk
In the darkness of the light

Shadow children
Shadow chill-ill-dren
If they live into their forties, they’ll be residing in a box
Hand in hand while tripping over the shadows of the rocks
Remembering the good times
Making money pulling cocks
Never see the brightness when you’re a shadow in the rocks

 

 

 

Beat up little urchin
Sneaking out the back
Satisfied Uncle Aaron
Still moaning in her sack
Never got invited
Still, he has a knack
Of using teenage sweeties
Afraid to tell the facts
Meets her superhero
Captain America on crack
Both sinking down the drain
Victims of the smack
They don’t need food or money
It’s life that really lacks

 

 

 

Shadow children
Shadow chill ill dren
If they live into their forties, they’ll be residing in a box
Hand in hand while tripping over the shadows of the rocks
Remembering the good times
Making money pulling cocks
Never see the brightness when you’re a shadow in the rocks

 

 

 

Sick of being tired and tired of being sick
Worshiping a dime bag turn another trick
If they make to their 40’s, they’ll be living in a box
Begging for a morsel as shadows of the rocks
From the bottom of the rocks
The wretched lonely rocks
Shadows of the alley smashing the bottom of the docks
Runaways forever shadows of the rocks

 

 

Everybody hates him
Wants to see him harmed
He needs to take his handgun
Just to stick it in his arm
A little girl abandoned searching for a friend
No one sees’s a child no one raises an alarm
She’s just a geisha of the poppy
Hiding from the storm
Hopes to be a grandma
But her life won’t last that long

Shadow children
Shadow chill ill dren
If they live into their forties, they’ll be residing in a box
Hand in hand while tripping over the shadows of the rocks
Remembering the good times
Making money pulling cocks
Never see the brightness when you’re a shadow of the rocks

 

 

Sick of being tired and tired of being sick

Worshiping a dime bag turn another trick

If they make to their 40’s, they’ll be living in a box
Begging for a morsel as shadows of the rocks
From the bottom of the rocks
The wretched lonely rocks
Shadows of the alley smashing the bottom of the docks
Runaways forever shadows of the rocks

 

 

Night Tremors

 

I awoke in the eerie dark
Or maybe I was still asleep
It was far too dark to tell
Too quiet to understand
Arcane and unsettling
Something or someone
Was in my room with me
WHAT WAS THAT?
Has fear taken ownership
Am I paranoid or in a dream
Sweating from the paralyzing fear
Droplets begin to roll off my forehead
So fucking scared
FEAR
Am I gonna die!!
Oh……my……god

 

Kick it
This fear has fermented I’m mentally tormented cause the visions I’ve invented
Are relentlessly depressing
A life form unscented from someone’s Hell has ascended it may not be documented but
…..I think that I’m demented….
I’m so tempted to pray to please be represented
But my God is discontented with the sins which I’ve presented
My life is at stake
My soul to take while I’m awake for goodness sake
We all make a mistake
Go away
Let me wake
Slow it down now

 

Perhaps I was dreaming
Dark theater of the brain
Strange noises in my sanctuary
Am I alone or is someone here
My cranium keeps shaking
Tears pool down my cheeks
My reflection in the droplets
I see some movement
A tree branch? No a shadow!
Paralyzed in my bed
Make this end
Please let this be a dream but if it is a dream
What does that mean?
Are dreams simple stories our minds make up
Or are they the realties of what could be?
Why do our dreams never seem to have a beginning
Why do they never have an end….or a taste of the reality
How can they be so vivid and true yet so surreal
I don’t think I like dreams
I don’t want to have them anymore
Please get me out of here or wake me up
I want to be me….to be free
Kick it once more

 

They are a malady of the banality someone’s misplaced morality
Worming its way into my concept of reality
Oh the fucking brutality the Dream Police finding criminality
Crimes against humanity my lack of sanity has to be what it is to be
To bring me to serenity
Stripping away the inside of me a paranoid fragility
My head hurts….just let me be
In the dark absence of light so filled with fright
My heads not right
I hate those fucking tremors in the night

THE STORYTELLER

 

The storyteller unlocks the subconscious
A locksmith using memories as his tool
Reminding us knowledge which lay dormant
Sleeping in the memories of our own hearts
Wishing one day to sort out real from imagined
So we listen with intent hoping to be free
Because feelings that lay frozen in our minds
Plead day to day that they be un-manacled
Free of the fears which lock our hope away
Holding hostage that which we already know
The knowledge that dawned with our births
Stored in the vastness of our repressive minds
Inside the temples of the storytellers graveyard
Where secret knowledge is preached in solitude
So we listen

 

 

The storyteller he makes no claims nor judgments
His tales are the dreams of visitors from the night
Imaginary and manifested friends of midnight lore
Some welcome some unwanted but all unfiltered
Preying on our eager and vivid imaginations
Reaching in to unleash our suppressed emotions
To strip them naked exposed unto ourselves
He asks not to be paid in silver nor gold
Only hopes to enter into our hearts and minds
And allow his words soothe or injure wakefulness
Offering no direction nor instruction be followed
Exposing incognito the paths of our choosing
Oftentimes he tell stories of profound love
Allowing many to reflect fondly of experience
So we believe

 

 

Yet for others love never seems to be enough
So he recalls stories of deep pain and loss
Sharing the pains he lived through and died from
Exposing himself while revealing our profound grief
And in the end with the many tales he’s woven for us
He blankets us all from that darkness which resides
Obscuring from inside the desires of the incendiary
Coaxing emotions to come bubbling to the surface
In a desperate search to find our own reflection
And fix the broken parts we tried to forget
Whether memories make you sad or glad matters not
It bears no significance once the story comes to end
The teller leaves carrying our hurts without reward
Upon his shoulders to cast into his healing heart
A mutual exchange of what is and what should be
As it was intended

 

The biggest fish of the fishing rod, a thousand tales from Scheherazade
Saviors of the suicide squad that make us stop and think so hard
Should we disregard our own backyard or traipse on down the boulevard
Scary streets abandoned yards, play at risk of being scarred
Don’t blame the words of the traveling bard its only a tale
The storytellers veil to hide his wails
Be he poet or prophet or teller true
He gives freely of words to me and you
Words plucked from his heart become his art
Right from the start
He writes them down not for glory
Only wants to tell a story
To reveals our eyes to our mirror
Put perspective little bit clearer
So gather round come in nearer
Stand naked before his story moral
Thank him for his message oral
Once he’s gone only words remain
Because no one notices his barrel of pain
They only ask him to tell it again and again
Until he has no story left

 

 

TODAY

 

 

Nine fucking eleven. I wasn’t going to say a word about this Day, too many emotions. The shedding of fear for family and friends in Florida, the memories of my days at Windows On The World and all the hours spent commuting through the WTC. Everyone telling me not to forget without considering for one second it hurt me so deeply I could never forget. Believe me, sometimes I wish I could…

 

Then I started thinking about how we define our lives according to traumatic experiences both societal and personal. I was far too young to understand the implications of the murder of President Kennedy but I clearly remember how the adults were so unilaterally shocked and hurt. In my lifetime it was similar to the day Reagan was shot and for one collective night we were all Republicans, praying or chanting for him to be allright. I was far more conscious about the deaths of Martin King Jr. and Robert Kennedy as my political views were beginning to form. The trials of the Chicago eight, the civil right denial of our brothers and sisters, the emergence of a group of young kids who cared about every culture proudly assumed the name of “Flower Children”. My question tonight is WTF happened to those children? Did half grow up to be angry white racists? Seems like it to me. Many of the kids who locked their arms with mine now question If people of other faiths and cultures are worthy of the standard my one time brothers and sisters felt were open to all. WTF happened to your souls?

The terrorist attack on NYC, Pennsylvania, and Washington DC wasn’t committed by the people but of a religious cult bent on hatred. It was committed by a break out faction of Islam not that far from Joel Osteen and his band of fuck you if you’re not Christian Faction. Sound harsh? Racism is a harsh reality we need to confront. I am relieved that most of my Florida family are safe, I am relieved that the evil religious zealots have been compromised , but TBT, I have many reservations of who my fellow Americans blame to ease their minds, while turning a blind eye to their own racist assumptions.

I had a long history at the WTC. It was a marker for me, a family member, and when they fell I cried for days. I still cry when someone posts the planes flying into the buildings… It hurts me as if I lost a family member. I have so many fucking memories tied into the Twin Towers that every year it hurts a little more, almost as much as losing my daughter. It hurts…… it hurts us all, but today I am a bit more concerned My family are safe, I grieve for all the families, but I am not willing to target a specific group of people because of their beliefs, or Christians would be on my hate list too If you truly believe yourself to be a believer in God, now is the time to prove it . Jesus didn’t argue, he preached love…..Or at least that’s what I was told ……Live and Love in Peace……

 

racism,

Fractured Soul

 

When the soul is fractured it’s fractured forever. We try and put braces on our fractured souls, people come into our lives that make it easier for us to function with the fractures, to love and laugh, but the fracture always remains. We only learn to carry on as if there were no cracks whatsoever. That’s a fucking lie!

 

My soul became fractured in one moment
My dreams turned into icy memories
Hope snuck out the bathroom window
Taking my will to survive on its back
That horrible moment I had to be strong
I needed to assure baby girl it was okay
Not that everything was going to be fine
But that it was okay to let go of the pain
She couldn’t speak so she nodded
Told me she loved me with a blink
The machines went silent
My heart fell apart
My soul fractured
Only one questioned remained
Do I live on or die

 

Fractured soul a life corrodes broken heart as black as coal
Free me now let me explode unpack my sorrow and unload
You can’t console a fractured soul
You can’t control the Reapers role
So take me down that lonely road
Back to my home
Where I always travel alone
My soul disqualified and compromised
Modified to be unoccupied minimized and oxidized
Rust and dust the tears I cried
Begging and pleading tell me why..
Nothing matters when your soul is fractured
Living life backward like a tortured actor
My essence smoldering in a nuclear reactor
That’s how it feels when the soul is fractured
Filled with all the hurt that I can manufacture
Like a homeless soldier stripped of stature
Left in the rain to scrap and forage
Thrown to the wind left unsupported
Purple hearts don’t pay their mortgage
Forgotten heroes packaged in cardboard storage
Alongside fractured souls of the morbid orphans

 

 

Our lives are made up of memory experiences
Big piles of good reflections and big piles of bad
Hopefully the bad pile is far lower than the good
But even if it’s not we mustn’t let the bad
Infect all the wonderful good things we have
Both piles make us up to who we’ve become
And who we are now comes down to one decision
Which pile to ignore and which to climb high
From my first memory I set out running
In a fervor to find what’s beyond the light
I didn’t realize when I was a young man
That I wasn’t running towards life but away
All along I was being chased by the ravager
If time ever catches up to me all I can do
Is surrender my fractured soul
And accept my final fate…..
I’m running as fast as I can

 

Live and Love in Peace

The Ten Suggestions

 

A SICK BASTARDS BIBLE PARODY SELECTION
J.T. Hilltop
Hint….this is a parody on a deep religious level, if you are offended scroll on by, but if you have an open mind and a sense of humor, read on

Most people believe that Moses walked down from Mount Sainai with ten commandments from God, but in reality it was just ten suggestions, because God was far more chill than the Good Book would have us believe. Here is the true story……

The Ten Suggestions
Moses tied his long hair in a ponytail as he walked some of his father in laws sheep up the mountain to his “spot” where he often went to chill out with some of that special crop God planted just for him. On this particular day he had stopped off at his best friends hut to roll up some of the dried leaves. “Oy Sammy, its me Moses, I got some bush to burn dude.” Samuel opened the door, “Aye Mo, wassup my main shepherd friend come on in your timing could not have been better. I have some malted barley beverage ready for our most awesome consumption .” Moses sipped the hop infused beverage as Samuel continued, “Wife’s been on my case all day and I need to dee-stress pronto baby.” The two friends shared a smoke and some drink giving them both that dulled serene head numbing to free them from the doldrums of mundane BC life they both needed. As soon as they finished Moses headed out the door filled with an attitude of gratitude putting the leftover herb in his robe pocket. “Catch ya on the morrow Bro, thanks for the buzz.”
Moses wandered up a mountain path tending the sheep until he came across his favorite “get high” rock where he often stopped. “Maybe I’ll have one more little hit” he mumbled to the uninterested fleece bearing ovines. About three quarters of the way down the masterfully rolled blunt there was a missed seed that popped loudly. An ember jumped up from the joint bouncing off his face and landing in a small bush by Moses feet. At first he didn’t think much of it but after a short time (minutes not yet discovered) the bush began smoldering. Moses was way to high to do anything but gawk until a voice startled him. “Hey Moses….Moses its me, Dad, The Man.” Moses looked around but not seeing anyone he anwered, “ Who what? Is that you Sammy? Holy crap Sam you were right about that beer shit man.” Moses took off his sandal and pounded it on his head, “Hear that man? That’s my skull…. I’m sooo wasted!!” Moses looked around but saw no one. The voice spoke again, this time in a serious deep vocal instructional tone, “No Moses,its not Samuel you fool. Its me God. You know the father of everyone. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, the earth and everything. Gardened of Eden, grower of apples, creator of the world, the father of everyone. I’m the lord God, the supreme one. I‘ve rsted up on the seventh day and now I‘m rreasdy tpo get back to business.” Moses stared at the smoldering and mumbling bush, “Come on Sammy cut the shit man, you’re scaring me Bro. How the fuck do you do that voice?” The bush burst into flame and began to crackle, “Its not Samuel and stop cursing. I hear you cursing all the time and it has got to stop. I also know what you think when you look at Sarah. She’s not your wife, you shouldn’t think about her that way! And while I‘m on the subject I also know what you’re thinking about when you look over the sheep.” Moses was still leery thinking maybe he was just too high but also feeling some inner guilt and worrying about his ability to see. “What? Sarah? Sheep? I am not going blind I just …..Hey wait, you’re who? Did you say you’re my father? That ain’t funny Sammy, you know my old man died last year.” The bush began shaking in a show of anger tossing embers everywhere, “Not YOUR father you dipshit, everyone’s father, the Lord God, creator of the world. The supreme being. And I told you to stop cursing. Matter of fact that’s one of the things I came here to talk to you about.” Moses walked closer to the bush, “So you saying I’m talking to the Lord God and you have some important shit….. Ake mushrooms or erm, stuff to talk to me about? Man this chronic is stronger than anything I ever had. I‘m hallucinating my testicles off.” Moses took one more toke then tossed the roach aside, “So if you really god, the what’d you call it, supreme being, where’s your sour cream?” Although it was merely a bush Moses could sense its frustration as the flames flickered. The voice got really loud, “I’m not a friggen burrito supreme you hapless idiot, I am the supreme ruler of all men, the lord god almighty himself and I’m here to give you instructions on what I expect from you. I hope to Jehovah I picked the right Moses. There aren’t any other Mosses’ in town are there?” The bush was shaking again, “Nah G, ain’t no Moses but me. But trust me, if you need something done Pops I could do it, just tell me what you need.”
God went on to explain to Moses all the tasks that lay ahead. “Go to the elders of Israel and tell them that I have appeared to you and told you I have watched over them and know what went down in Egypt. Tell them I have promised to relieve their people of the misery by the Nile into the land of Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, and the Pez eating Pezanites. I have asked you and Joshua to lead them into the promised land, the land of milk and honey, peanut butter and jelly, and once they see what lays ahead they will never believe that sliced bread was the best thing ever.” Moses was a bit uncertain and felt that a deal of just milk and honey and peanut butter and jelly wasn’t enough so he negotiated to receive some Manishcewitz wine, Knishes, and a Halvah candy bar as well. That would help to cure his munchies. Both sides walked away satisfied yet apprehensive, but the deal was done. Moses was to free the Jews from Egypt and bring them back here to Mount Sinus.

Stay The Night

 

 

I can’t sing and have zero musical ability but once in a while a melody gets stuck in my head wishing it had some lyrics. This is one of those times, an unusual trip into lyrics without a note. whatev….

 

 

 

My tender heart caressed so gentle
Makes me quiver in passions glow
Lighting me up in flames of love
Teaching me all I wished to know
Love means not possessive hearts
But to surrender unto desires
Sharing at will each others soul
As it stokes the passionate fires

 

 

Our very first date
Went so damn great
Everything seemed so right
A goodnight kiss
Became passionate bliss
Made love and stayed the night

 

 

Love had beckoned I had followed
Lusty wings embraced my soul
But her sword I never noticed
Until the stabbing took its toll
I believed every lie she told me
Her voice shattered all my dreams
Crucified me in my lonely room
Nothing is ever what it seems

 

 

Love comes and love goes
But once in a while love see’s the light
Passions bliss and a goodnight kiss
When you stayed the night

 

 

Tenderness can cause such pain
Like an open wound love bleeds
Coursing out to make me weak
With severed soul I make a plea
Stay with me wrapped in my arm
Heal our wounds and rub the scars
Her love no longer calling out for me
What she has with him is ecstasy,
An ecstasy that’s no longer ours

 

 

 

I call your name I hear no response
Something once spoken just doesn’t seem right
We promised we would never cheat
But you’re in his arms and in his sheets
Why don’t you stay the night

 

 

Stay the night
Stay the night
Its only right
I just can’t take
Another fight
So stay he night
Just shut the light
Don’t tell me another lie
Spoken out of spite
Then just stay with him
Stay the night
But don’t come back
On next daylight
Go to him and
Stay the night
Forget my name
I’ll be all right
So you should stay the night

 

 

 

EPIC FAIL

 

 

 

(National Suicide Prevention Lifeline..1-800-273-8255)

 

In the abyss of my desires
Under my hopes and dreams
Lie my unspoken thirst
To commune the beyond
Will I pass unto the gates
The passageway to eternity
Or does my fear of dying
Cause me to tremble with life
Shall I stand naked to the sun
Ready to melt into its warmth
Or shiver alone above the moon
Embrace the mother of all children
Soothe my soul asleep at her breast
Alas when I enter the realm of silence
I will finally be able to sing my song
When I reach the apex of my mountain
I shall finally be able to climb upward
And when Mother Earth claims my legs
I shall finally be able to dance
All I have to do is Die

 

Death is the female betrayed
The sweet song of Circe
The siren without mercy
But don’t expect her to curtsey
She comes clothed in a shroud
Whispering a dirge and a vow
But I can’t hear
The silence in my head is way too loud
My ears are exploding with trumpeting blood
An internal flood
A voice keeps urging me to do it
Go on…..End it
Type a goodbye note and send it
A life suspended but not extended
Don’t be offended but I don’t recommend it
Still the pain increases with no release
There’ll be no peace until I’m deceased
I need Mother Teresa
Nobody cares about a life in pieces
I feel defeated
Tried to die but failed completely
Many attempts veiled discretely
Not sure when but I’ll try it again
I need it to end…….but
How to do it?
A handful of pills to flood my brain
Take away all this insane pain
A razor to coax the syrup of life
Drain my blood to end my strife
Or will my loss of hope dangle from a rope
Perhaps I can finally OD on dope
Why do I even try
Why do I listen to the voice inside
Telling me I should die
Be better off dead he said
But I’m a failure inside
I didn’t even cry at my failed suicide
My sanctimonious attempt
With no final ride
So let me confide about all of my lies
I hated myself since the day I was born
Grew up busted disgusted and often forlorn
But that is my onus my own cross to bear
Bitching and moaning how life isn’t fair
Nobody cares
Death may not be me answer but still I try
To celebrate the day of my suicide
I don’t know, just guess I wanna die
Can’t figure out how I should say goodbye
I’m an epic failure need a suicide seminar
I failed at every suicide I’ve tried so far
Just can’t kill myself which I find bizarre
Maybe I should stop trying
I really suck a dying
Hopefully today I’ll get hit by a car

 

I lost a friend of mine since kindergarten to suicide. We lost touch and I found out later in life but it still haunts me. I suspect most of us have been effected by at least one suicide close to us, and I also suspect like me many of you have contemplated it however fleeting for at least a moment. Unlike the song in MASH suicide is not painless, especially to those who need to pick up the pieces. If ever depression send you down the road of self incrimination without a view of resolve, call a friend, write a letter, contact someone. I’ll listen, your family will listen, and if you need a stranger, The National Suicide Prevention Helpline is 1-800-273-8255.….
Live and Love in Peace

 

 

Death In Fibonacci Sequence

 

Death
It knocks
You hear it
It stands at your door
Waiting for you to open up
The Grim Reaper comes whether you are ready or not

 

Sleep
The end
Gone for good
Never to return
Death stands outside waiting for us
Everyone has one you just have to figure out where

 

Grave
Endless
forever
Eternal dreaming
The sunshine of the spotless mind
An eclipsing shadow of the obscured fading moon

 

Death
Rising
Not afraid
Standing in the hall
Waiting for its moment to rise
Knowing that it has found what it has been looking for

 

Fibonacci figured out a mathematical pattern that repeats itself so often in nature that it becomes one of those mysterious occurrences in the Universe that defy explanation.  I can’t profess to understand even an inkling of his genius, but that does not prevent me from appreciating it and giving a genius mind some props…….Live and Lover in Peace

Secrets and Obsessions

 

 

Obsessions once revealed
Leave the soul naked
And the heart vulnerable
So we hide them away
Where no one can see
Our little secret

The secrets revealed
Expose the hard truth
We share them in faith
And hope that love stays
We open our hearts
Lay it on the line
That’s the first mistake

 

Napoleon believed our obsessions
Are the best way to govern our perspective
Because our obsessions can hold us hostage
Shackled to our deepest secrets
Daring us to reveal our egos
I have secrets and obsessions
I know that you have them too
It’s the mysterious inner glue
That binds us to ourselves
Without secrets and obsessions
We’re incomplete
Kick it……
Secrets and obsessions, transgressions and digressions
Concessions and confessions lead to many unanswered questions
We are obsessive about our obsessions our truths kept in suppression
So what’s the suggestion
Unsuppress the suppression?
No way
Secrets are here to stay
They’re untold portions of our stories
Truths we should never reveal
Something to conceal
Secrets not meant to dissolve into memories
But become raindrops in our attics
Obsessions make us addicts
Deep in the cathedrals of desire
Go lower but take me higher
Where we worship our master
In hallways of internal adversity
Where perversity is in such diversity its an alert for me
Some things that a lover should never see
But for me that was not to be
I let her see and she laughed at me
Now I know she knows the worst of me
So out of courtesy I’ll let you see the destiny hidden inside of me
I’m a catastrophe of hypocrisy
An oddity without a prophesy
And that hurts me
So now you see secrets are meant to be
Covered with a veil of mediocrity
I offer no apology just keep the wall in front of me
Secrets and Obsessions
Best to hold them internally