After My First Kiss A Punch to The Heart

 

(from The continuing stories of JT and his quest for Culinary Nirvana)
I stopped off to see Kathy and bought a nickel of gold weed then went to the magazine store to buy a pack of big bamboo rolling papers. I was feeling a bit frisky, which is adolescent code for horny, so I decided I was the one who would set the tone tonight. The four musketeers met up by the corner of the schoolyard near the woods where many of us underage derelicts quench our mind thirsts with beer or wine or sometimes both. I hoped Ken would get out of being grounded, he almost always did, but this time he was busted with weed which was like the ultimate crime of the century or something. Felony pot smoking! Every suburban parent’s nightmare, a child that has been turned into a stoned out zombie from doing the “reefer madness.” Maybe his old man was just too drunk to remember what happened. Or maybe just beating Ken was lesson enough. I flipped when he showed up carrying a six-pack. “ Hey Ken man, give me the cardboard from the six pack, I gotta clean some weed.” This was a ritual in the neighborhood, copping some beer from an older brother of a friend outside the stores then rolling a few joints to get even higher. It was just another night in the land they call suburbia. On this eve we were a group of 12 strong all pounding down alcohol and puffing away on yellow gold high-quality marijuana. Someone suggested heading over to Beth’s because she was having a party and there in an instant and unanimous agreement. Ken grabbed me and pulled me to the side. “JT, did you take those pills I gave you last night?” “Of course I did bro it was awesome. I did the red ones and brought the other 4 with me. I figure I’ll do one and give one to Carrie and you and Sue can have the other two” Ken thought for a moment then said “Lets you and me do the tuies and give the girls one yellow each. The tuies are a lot stronger.” It was decided. We called over the ditz sisters and offered them each a Nembutal. Carrie took it without question and washed it down with some of my beer. A foreign feeling came over me, and somehow I just knew the moment was now. I grabbed her hand and held it like a boyfriend would feeling the sparks instantly. I knew Carrie could sense it too by the smile on her face and the odd twinkle in her eyes. I pulled Carrie in front of me and peered into her soul through her beautiful ocular portals. Without one single word spoken, with just one seemingly small act of mysterious energy, the whole of the cosmos shifted to a slightly uncomfortably yet fully confident and happy alignment. We exchanged nervous glances at first, and then looked deeply into each other’s eyes searching each other desires. Our eyes engaged in the only conversation necessary. With a sensuous and tender movement, our faces shifted slightly and slowly, very very gradually as we moved closer to each other. Maybe she was born with it, or perhaps it was Maybelline, but at that moment no other female had ever looked so amazingly beautiful, and for a brief few moments, no one else in the world existed. I felt a tingling that emanated from my groin and echoed through my entire body out through my fingertips as our mouths opened and our lips met with a furious and gentle tango explosion. All the blood in my body seemed to take the elevator straight to the top and made me wobble so that I nearly lost my balance. With our mouths locked tightly to each other, our tongues danced that tango, tossing and toggling inside each other’s mouths in a desperate search of our new raison d’etre. With slippery hormonal precision, our mouths performed the minute waltz in ten seconds as our tongues danced the entire Swan Lake to artistic perfection. Jesus shit man we were embracing in a wet and desperate lovelock of synergetic bliss. Eyes closed and mouths now hermetically sealed to each other our faces rocked gently as we both drank in the most incredible love infected chemical secretion either of us had ever experienced. We kissed and swapped salivary gland fluids for four or five minutes utterly oblivious to any lifeform outside are now combined nucleus.

My endoreticulum was running amok and scratching my back while it tickled my soul. I loved it! (see? I did pay attention in biology) The only sound in the universe was the soft panting and moaning of Carrie’s throat and the slightly louder moaning of mine. After what seemed like two lifetimes the magic was shattered by a familiar voice when Ken broke up the vibe. “Well, it’s about fucking time you guys.” We broke our lip lock and looked at each other knowing exactly what he meant, and we knew he was right. I think we both felt glad we waited because that was the most perfect kiss and saliva exchange in the history of Cupidon.
From that moment on Carrie and I would become inseparable, holding hands or walking with my arm around her shoulder. We were high from weed and beer, and soon the pills would be kicking in, and even if they didn’t fuck it, I’m in love which as of right now is the best high I have ever felt. Our friends looked at us as if this was how it had always been, no one even seemed to notice how different we felt. We, however, could not stop looking at each other, smiling and kissing the night away. The music was loud, the party was crowded, yet nothing existed outside of Carrie and me. We continued drinking and smoking whenever something came our way, and I gave the weed and papers to Ken and left him in charge. It was getting late, and we were very stoned and delighted. But time was running out in the evening.
No sooner did we decide to leave than a strange tension built up between us. Well not really between us but more like inside the both of us. A sense of anticipation and curiosity filled the small portion of our private universe. Ah, the moment of truth. Should we continue our adventure into adulthood or just take it easy? I felt that awkward feeling because we were headed to that moment we would say goodnight to each other and figure out what the next step of our relationship was going to be. Should I try to cop a feel and touch her breast, maybe take it further tonight or be happy where we are and wait? Suave and cool operator or caring respectful dude? The pills had one scenario and my mind had another. Should I make a move? Fuck man, what if I try for the tit and she gets pissed? Oh my god so much fucking pressure. Tuinols on one shoulder and my conscience on the other. As we walked closer to her house we chatted nervously and pointlessly about nothing. That’s when I realized she was sweating it out too. Well its time to make my move, be a man, do what a real man would do. But what man? Be like my asshole Dad? I’ll never get laid if I’m like him. Like Artie, the scumbag? No, he would probably rape her though I would never say that in front of Ken. Fuck man I have no role model since James got drafted. That’s it. What the fuck would Jameson do? He was caught having sex with his girlfriend once when her old man came home unexpectedly and caught them. They had to break up and James was a mess for months afterward. They got back together of course because they really do love each other but they had to steer clear of her parents. What kind of shit is that? He’s in the army defending I don’t know what an has to hide his relationship. What bullshit! But James was my hero so that was it. I’ll do like James would do. I stopped walking, grabbed Carrie and pulled her close to me. Our eyes met and I could see the look she had was curiosity with a side order of apprehension. “Carrie, I really dig you a lot, and I want us to have a long relationship. This love shit is so fucking confusing! Well if it is love we should be able to talk about shit like this so here it goes. “I want to have sex with you really bad right here and right now.” Her eyes narrowed and she seemed to be contemplating what would be next. I took a deep breath and continued. “But I want it to be right, the right place and time and the right reason. I just don’t think tonight is that time.” Now her eyes began to smile and I think I heard a breath of relief. She smiled the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. Without a single word we both knew it was the perfect choice. “Jesus shit JT, I want to have sex with you right now too but I don’t think, no, I know I’m not ready. But I would have if you asked me to.”

My relief was evident too, and I smiled and said “You would have?? God damn it, now you tell me.” We laughed and embraced each other holding tightly, and I am pretty sure she felt that uncontrollable male muscle pulsating slow and hard up against her hip. Life was beautiful, we were in love, and this new high we found was the best ever. We walked up to her house and stopped just out of sight should anyone be spying on us. We swapped spit, sucked face, made out, French kissed, toggled tongues, whatever the fuck you want to call it for 15 minutes before we said good night. I walked home like each step was taken on a carpet of foam rubber with my head so high in the clouds it took a special request from gravity to keep me on earth. I can’t wait to tell Ken. Jesus shit I hope this lasts.
I’m not sure if the incredible feelings I was experiencing was from love, beer, pot or pills. Most likely it was a combination of all the above but to say my head was spinning would be an understatement. I could feel the effects of all of them having a group hug in my cerebellum, but all I could think about was Carrie. Damn man, I hung out with her as friends almost every day and now all of a sudden I can’t stop thinking about her. I walked straight into my special little spot in the universe past my Mom who was mumbling something about the time, past the dinner table which generally beckoned me over for a tempting bowl of cocoa puffs, utterly oblivious to all the sights and sounds surrounding me. It felt like the giant smile not only went from ear to ear but wrapped around my head a few times. Fuck man, I’m in love!

For the first time in ever, I woke up happy and wide awake. I am ready to start the day a teenager in love. Think I’ll go into the kitchen and surprise my Mom with a kiss. The surprise was on me though because as soon as I got to the kitchen my dear mom was sitting at the table with a bucketload of tears in her eyes and my dickhead old man pacing and just mumbling over and over how “Everything’s gonna be alright.” Mom’s head was shaking, and all she could let out was a desperate sounding sob. She kept trying to catch her breath but sounded like she was going to choke. I looked at my mom, but my words were directed at my Dad. “What’s going on?” My old man looked at me with a shut the fuck up look on his face and spoke forcefully when he said, “Its not a big deal. Jameson has been shipped off to Viet Nam and is headed to a place called Quang Tri. He will be defending the honor of the entire country and our family because he is a brave son doing the right thing.” I knew it was half trying to convince mom, validate his hawkish war stance, and most importantly to him send a dig at my anti-war friends and me.

Mom was becoming increasingly more hysterical, so I chose to let that shit slide for the time being. In the calmest voice I had used with my Dad in some time I intoned outside of Moms audible range, “Dad, Jameson is going to Nam. He is going to risk his life for nothing. Not a big deal? No big deal?” Unfortunately my brazen in love self-began growing balls and my voice raised a few octaves. “ What the hell do you mean no big deal? James is going to fight in a bloody and senseless war halfway around the world.” I was using every ounce of Zen energy to remain composed, but the old shit was feeling guilty and believed increasing his own volume gave him some warped sense of authority. “First of all watch your language young man, you’re still living under my roof. We live in the United States of America and our country needs our help.” I rolled my eyes, yet he continued, “Just because you are a pansy ass chicken who’s afraid to fight doesn’t mean both my sons have to be.” The Old shit felt that his drunken slurring statement was in need of an exclamation point, so he slapped me hard in my face. I was stunned.

The shock converted quickly to anger, and it took every ounce Karma I had to not punch the shit out of his old drunk ass. Mom let out a little scream as my eyes burned holes in the wallpaper and my fingers began to ache from clenching. Being the better person, I headed back to my sanctuary to worship my stereo headphones and pretend I didn’t live in this hell hole of a house. My dickhead father, my wailing mother, and the thought of my brother shipping off to Vietnam for real had completely destroyed the fantastic feeling of love from my first kiss. Fuck them, I’m outta here on my eighteenth birthday!
TBC

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

 

 

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

 

 

 

Defeating Hate

 

 

 

Crouched in the dark of hatreds shadow
The Phoenix of bigotry waits in patience
Someday it muses……. Some day
Hoping to kick off the dust of its ashes
Spread its alabaster wings of oppression
And soar on the winds of prior atrocities
History of hatred is attempting a comeback

 

The ghosts of the slave
Buried in dirt
Still shackled
Not even in a proper grave
The shame of one nation
Scarred by war
Remembered the words
We are all equal in the eyes of creation

 

We can never again allow bigotry to soar
Cause our rainbows to cower in disgust
Destroy a commonality built on trust
We shall rise in unison to tenets of hate
Stand and resist supremacists doctrine
Sip from cups overflowing with compassion
Side by side and hand in hand love will win
Only love can defeat Hate

 

George Santayana.. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it

Unknown…A fish rots from the head down…. Remove it before we all stink

JT Hilltop…. Speak out against racism, bigotry, and hatred every opportunity you can…. Silence is complicity

 

Live and Love in Peace

She Said I Never Write About Love So……

 

 

Love is
An innocent child flower who grew up
In the garden of an unsteady future
Seeds sown where only dreams may visit
To a romantic bounty that longs for itself
Yet strives to never be reaped in loneliness
Love is
The longing fleeting arrows spiral course
In eternal flight ardently sailing forward
Upon the path of the infinite archer
Attempting to obtain endless distance
Into the depth of tomorrows chasm
Love is
The beating wings of passions glory
In a furious frenzy of adulation
Under the incandescent evening glow
Of a bright and sultry lunar simper
Midnight ushering affectionate auras
Love is
Two spirits strolling hand in hand
To a place where the bodies desires
Become sated with mutual rapture
Unbridled of restraint they sing their song
Which echoes across the erotic wind
Distant stars winking in approval
Creating a beacon of lustful allegiance
Love is
Retrospection gilded in a rosy brilliance
Tears formed into pools of halcyon delight
Tranquil waters longing to rush to the sea
To be washed to shore as a lost memory
Wouldn’t it be nice if memories didn’t fade
But went to where dreams become songs
And memories become tales forever retold
Shared through the eons of all lovers lifetimes
And viewed through the eyes of the future
That’s what Love is to me
But what do I know?

 

*Some people worry when an artist dances too close to the edge of darkness but some of us just seem to be wired a little darker than the “norm”. That’s cool, because every emotion needs to be explored and celebrated. When creative people express themselves they do it through a variety of disciplines, humor, words, music, art, or just straight up therapy. I can’t sing or play any instrument and even my stick figures look like shit but I can joke and write. I like to place myself outside my comfort zone which is why this is one of a very few pieces in which I will write about love as opposed to depression, the trials of aging, or facing death. I don’t like being uncomfortable, but it does get my creative impulses flowing. Thank you for this indulgence….
Live and Love in Peace

 

AND SO IT GOES

 

I littered the streets of my youth
With shards and fragments of ill
Deeds and wrongs left unpunished
Save for the breaking of my spirit
My saline teardrops iced to crystal
By the coldness of too many hearts
Dissolved into wisps of pining mist
From the flames of internal anger
While reflecting on the descendants
Of the ancient father of my yesterdays
Whose lasting advice I always follow
Remember always from which you came
So I cast one last meaningful gaze
One long sigh backwards in my horizon
Trying in vain to enjoy the final sunset
I now being the son of mine very own future
Plagued by memories like a sleepless mother
Tossing and turning as if on a hapless carousel
Yet in her heart should I find peace and freedom
And in my forbidden lovers arms I found bliss
Recalling murmurs from beneath satin sheets
In the twilight of the grand imploding passions
I can only hope my eagerness to please
Filled their souls as much as they filled mine
And always will I owe them the unpaid debt
Of presenting me with dreams to be dreamt
Nightmares as well as the specter s of joy
Easing my midnight delusions of utopia
Allowing my sun to always rise in smiles
Still as each day begins anew in my years of dusk
In each morn I taste the squalid irony this one thing
The time of my departing without my return
Shall be a time of gathering of memories for others
And so it goes……

 

Live and Love in Peace

Cardboard Purgatory

 

The Homeless. Everyone agrees it’s a problem yet no one has a solution. Many of us would refuse to walk an inch in their shoes but most of them would walk a mile with blistered bare feet just to have a pair of our shoes. They are looked down on, looked at with disgust by many, looked at with sympathy or empathy by others. Most of us walk past them pretending not to see them, or maybe throwing them a bit of spare change, but seldom do any of us stop and talk. Or better yet, listen…..

 

How did I get here?
Too many the days of pain
Too long the pain of days
Was what brought me to this
Alone in the jaws of depravity
In the confines of hopelessness
Left naked and empty of hand
Crouched in the shadow of despair
Possessing only the gifts of the Earth
And the stipends of the caring few
While the gates in my face are slammed shut
The gates of my heart remain ever open
What little I have I share with the world
But the world doesn’t often reciprocate
Ridiculed and held in distain from on high
I am the dust beneath their Persian rugs
Catching scraps from their linen tablecloths
Judged as lazy, useless, and worthless
Praying the generous winds of humanity
Will lift me away to place I can call home
And free me from this cardboard purgatory

 

 

Spit it BeBop Street Flow…..

Listen up to the story of existing in purgatory inside a cardboard dormitory
Where guts ain’t got no glory dying is pretty but livings gory
A metaphoric allegory that ends in a repository
Am I striking a chord here?
My shelter made of cardboard is an upgrade from the psyche ward
Got no money can’t afford more been abandoned by the good lord
My universe yet un explored I was floored
Had to fall on my sword
Guess I got a fitting reward but I hate falls
Want to tear down the corrugated walls
But that takes protocols and balls and my balls are all I got left
Feeling bereft because I turned right when I shoulda turned left
So I turned to theft
I was busted disgusted and couldn’t be trusted so I fled
In days past my life seemed complete, had the world upon my feet
Riding high living sweet a big time player playing Wall Street
Until my defeat
Took quite a fall and lost it all, took both eyes off of the ball
Dropped like a giant cannon ball into a tub of alcohol
Anyhow, that’s all I can recall
Lost my job and lost my home lost my family was all alone
They stripped me to the bone locked me up in the crazy dome
Then set me free
Below the Bourgeoisie
No longer have home so with homeless do I roam
Stockholm syndrome
Misfortune as my captor, my pastor and my master
Lead me straight into disaster faster than a slick Bastard
So I got plastered
To be clear it was wine and beer until my problems became severe
Then I blazed the drug frontier and all my worries disappeared
Acted cavalier
But it gets you in the end destroys your life and all your friends
No matter how hard you pretend all the shit comes back again
Only worse
Life becomes perverse obtuse and terse
You’re immersed you can’t converse the only way out is in a hearse
So you ride alone

 

 

 

How did they end up here on “skid row”? Some are simply born into poverty and never have the advantages of good schooling we take for granted. Illness, loss of a loved one, domestic abuse, mental illness, PTSD. Some came back from fighting a war and were simply left alone in the cold. Some simply couldn’t find work. The point is don’t assume they put themselves there from lack of will, or unwillingness to do even menial tasks. Most homeless humans have stories to share that could curl self righteous hair.

So don’t point a finger and yell that lazy bitch got no will power, that’s all. Pull themselves up by their bootstraps and face the world, get a job instead of getting high. But getting high isn’t why most of them do it, they do it to numb the pain, the physical, the mental, and most of all the emotional. Bad decisions often lead to worse decisions and the dominoes of life continue to fall, a little harder each time. Judge not lest Ye be judged…… Live and Love in Peace

 

 

Last Nights Dream

 

 

He came from out of a rainstorm
More than halfway through his journey
Holding a piece of broken memory
Pushing it on a gurney
Recalling a single teardrop
A lonely drop he cried
Chasing his favorite sonnet
Hoping it will stay dry
Yesterday coursed through his blood
Letting out a scream
One more chance to dance his dance
One last happy dream
He was
Burdened by the stormy night
Chained to his existence
A broken mind a broken heart
Life in its persistence
His years keep piling running up
He counts down for his last breath
The time of his life is hanging around
With the hour of death
Been running towards it for so long
You can smell it on his clothes
The stench of wind suck to his hair
When from his dream he rose
Time is but a cognitive illusion
A series of frozen moments
Unfolding in chaotic order
You can’t control the slowness

 

 

 

I snapped a photo he didn’t like
Happens all the time
When he looked in the mirror
The face he saw was mine
Did the snapshot capture his image
Or did my camera set him free
Exchange him for a memory
Of who he used to be
But looking at the photo he was just like you and me
Waiting for the moment that time will set him free
And what’s to be shall be
Just another day
What good are photo’s anyway
They only get me pissed
All they do is make us smile
While reminding us we’re missed
Reflecting back we realize
He was dreaming on a whim
Searching for that one person
Who was trying to find him
A bus came by and he got on
Slipped inside the closing door
Please let me keep the memories
So I can dream once more

 

Live and Love in Peace

A Dads Thoughts On Life

 

 

At the far too tender age of five my curious daughter peered deeply into my heart through my eyes. Knowing she had my full attention as I meditated she posed me an existential question. “What is life Daddy? Can it merely be blood and breath, flesh and bone, and independent thought?” (Okay, I paraphrased a bit but that’s what she meant) . With a childlike earnestness she continued, “please don’t tell me lies like the other adults Daddy, I trust you.” After a cautionary period of consideration I decided to tell her my honest thoughts. “No one really knows what life is we only know it exists. And some of us aren’t even sure about that my little love but this is my existential theory. I know this probably sounds like adult talk bullshit but the truth is it’s too hard to explain in an antiseptic arrangement of hard to understand words, so I will try an explain it in verse………

Are we here or are we there
Is anybody anywhere
Or is everybody everywhere
Is time real and should you care
When is now and when was then
Get to the end and go back again
Its always spinning so I let it all be
Life is just a cycle to a psycho like me
But who are we and why do we exist
Questions so tempting its hard to resist
Maybe the question that should be asked
What can we do to remove the masks
See each other for who we are
Not so far from outer bizarre
Various colors different beliefs
Similar joys, similar griefs
Free of compartments
But similar contents
Hating anyone simply doesn’t make sense
So the best I have to offer is my thoughtful consonance
One quick trip with the flow of my consciousness

 

As I contemplate my insignificance whether fate or just coincidence
I remember a certain incident that creates some dissonance
But given due diligence I can remove the belligerence
Lackluster ignorance doesn’t offer you deliverance
It just makes you numb
Makes you sound like you’re dumb
The outcome of which could make you succumb
To groundless conclusions and downright confusion
Delusion exclusion and illusion seclusion
Until some half wit human picks up a gun
Scatter and run
Because hate has no conscience
Once begun its been done
And though my eyes close theres one thing I see
Death in the end has not one ounce of mercy

We contemplate our significance to the Universe while arguably every other species on earth simply goes about surviving. But us, in this tiny pocket, of this small galaxy, of this immense Universe, we simply assume we must be the important species. Ants, Lions, Whales, whatever have no purpose, only humans. Instead of spending so much time trying to congratulate ourselves for being so damn superior, perhaps we should address why we are the most destructive species. We destroy eco systems, we throw our trash across the planet and call it progress, and still we live and breathe, love and die, and still fight, sometimes to the death, to prove to ourselves that we are important in the big picture. There is no big picture, there are only scant few moments to enjoy what life offers. Take life’s offer while you’re still here……
To all whom it applies Happy Fathers Day, to everyone alive,

Where The Fuck Is My Karma

 

The Universe is The Abyss
Vast and dark
Full of mysteries
Contradictions
What we call life
Some say it’s a miracle
Others say its Kismet
Or collective consciousness
Alpha and omega
Birth and death
All in the infinite chasm
The abyss has laws
And a truth
But laws are lies
Truth is honest
The one Universal truth?
Life isn’t fair
No good deed goes unpunished
All I really want to know of life is
Something that’s missing
Where is my fucking Karma
But maybe Karma is just memories
The memories that hide in darkness
Remembering is so much harder when we can’t see
Yet I put all my heart in the concept of karma
Hoping its real……

 

 

 

In the days of nights
I chased empty headlights
All the sights and frights
Plus a few fist fights
While reaching for the heights
I yearned and I learned
And what did I earn?
I just got burned
So I made a U-turn
To go home and make my amends
Was I successful
I guess that depends
Just don’t ask my friends
For they will defend my offenses
At least the real ones will
I chose to repent
Let others air vents
Let day shine in the night
Make the moon shake with fright
So what I really want to know
Where the fuck did my Karma go
Doing the right thing just didn’t bring
Redemption or forgiving or anything
Because Karma don’t give a spit
Bout who you are or what good you did
It’ll leave you stranded and buried in shit
A flame all alone in the wind of misfits
Flickering
It aint revenge for bickering or snickering
Its just a word to ease the wilt
Of what we tell ourselves to ease our guilt
Karma’s a hoax we have built
Because that’s our ilk
A scarred and lonely crowd that’s far too loud
Clinging desperately to a fast moving cloud
Maybe if we promise to make God proud
Take cover beneath the religion shroud
But that’s not allowed
Not by The Abyss
So we turn our fragile minds and hide in our armor
Come on big Pharma
Give me some pills or give me some Karma

 

 

I subscribe to a positive vibe and apologize for this diatribe
But Goddam it how does one describe this feelings inside?
Mama told me I’d survive once Karma arrived but I was denied
Worse still I was alive and Karma was deprived…
I just cried
How long must I wait for my moment to thrive
Will I get my comeuppance while I’m still alive
Or will I die waiting to be revived
I was rehabilitated and humiliated while standing naked
Vulnerable and afraid of my own dehumanization
Praying creation would not bring my damnation
But making things legit became a fixation
Tried so hard to make things right
To make life tight
For so many years I did the good thing
Gave of my time offered my wings
But karma laughed and gave me the spurn
Got no return
Just got burned
Karma left me without having my turn
I believe in a spiritual transformer
I’m a tried and true performer
Righted my wrongs
Harmonized my songs
Still I never belonged
Destiny you owe me
I sowed the seeds that you sold me
Did good deeds like you told me
And what did I get in return?
Went from harmer to charmer
From reaper to farmer
But no matter how kind
What I need I could never find
And I don’t want to alarm her…..
But where the fuck is my Karma