October Blue (Why Take The Children)

 

 

Grief is a bomb
It never stops exploding
Fills our worlds with chaos
Unrelenting and uncaring
Constant burning flames
Entering out souls
Our hearts
Reminding us how weak we are
Today I remember myself at my weakest
My baby girl
Taken away on this day
A beautiful shining star
Extinguished
It’s so unfair
I was supposed to be her strength
Hold her up with all my might
I held her so hard
I tried so much
I believed so strong
Poured my entire soul into my baby
Yet I failed
Still Megan I hold you in my heart
Every aching second
Of every single day
Time never passes
Not one single tick
Without a thought of you
I still don’t understand why
Many have reasoned
That you have gone with God
My baby is an angel at his side
But what need has any god of a child?
Who but the cruel and ruthless
Would erase the innocent
Not any God I can accept
We needed you here
But this isn’t about me
This isn’t about God
It’s about you
Yet still people have suggested
Perhaps God broke me to be rebuilt me
I never asked to be rebuilt
If true he took from my inner self
The most important part of me
The most true and honorable piece of me
My attempt to be her Dad
Is not unconditional love the most true?
But their God left a gaping abyss
An endless hole in my heart
No way to fill a hole that has no end
Yet on some arcane level
It was losing you that brought me to my awakening
Suffering…
Suffering is what made me who I am
All that remains now
Is my memory and
An existential mystery forever unsolved
An unanswered question asked for eternity
Why take the guiltless children?
Used as an innocent pawn
Why my baby?
She was not born to us of mere flesh
But of a longing of life
A desire to spread her wings and soar
An opportunity to exist
A chance to shine bright
Why was she deprived of life
Deprived of her own Goddam fate
Taken from us in a single morrow
I could drown in my tears
So many have I cried
Be lost in the light
So dark had my soul become
Been lost forever in the pain
So deep was my anger
Yet each day I must rise
Without your smile
Each day goes on
Without you
Everyday I struggle to wake
For without my child
I had no reason to exist
I would gladly perish
To give you a shining chance
One chance at living
But if living means this pain
I wish it not for you my Megan
For those who I share love
I continue on wounded forever
Now every earthly rotation hence
October comes at me hard
Stalking me like a villain
Reminding me of it’s power
The dominance it holds o’er me
Even with all its beautiful colors
With it’s clean crisp morning air
October darkens my doorstep with gloom
Obscuring my memories of what could have been
My Megan
Leaving me scarred
Tattoos carved deeply in my heart
All I have left now are those memories
Of a profound innocent loved shared
And the pinwheel above your new room
Which spins wild upon each visit I make
Each silent visit
Though I want to join you
I can’t sleep beside you yet
For there are others that still need me here
So sleep now my “Little Little”
I can celebrate not this October
For our memories can ease our pains
Or they can devour us
I hope for the former
The anniversary this month brings
Is forever unwanted
Yet this horrible pain
Is all I have left……
I never sleep during October
I only cry

Live and Love in Peace

GO TO HELL

 

 

Truth be told I will be seriously disappointed if once dead we are reduced to two options, either go to heaven and live in boredom or go to Hell and live in flames. Frankly the repetitious and cloying sweetness of doing nothing for eternity would drive me to Hell, which begs the question…..What happens when one goes to Hell?

 

Once I’m passed my expiration date
Where shall I dwell
Will I be delivered unto heaven
Or will I end up in HELL
In the world of Satan
Where nothing gets healed
Burning in eternal fire
Or in damnation my true self revealed
Like Dante traversing the 7 burning rings
Where consequence causes the fiery stings
No more in aimless pursuit
Of pleasures of flesh
But buried in torture
Without any rest
Kick it……

I’m a Goddam Irie ite, trying to do it right, a precious bird in flight who never learned wrong from right yet still somehow my star shines bright despite the shite….so out of spite I got into a fight crushing some poor bastard with all my might, took his life and ended his plight and that’ how I ended up a hellbound blight
So now the bitch is deceased.
His soul has been released and my chances of hell are ten times increased yet I’m at peace cause in my mind he deserved to be fleeced ….Or at least uncreased. So now my life is on lease to the devilish priest. So I deserved what I earned when my ass got burned, that’s how I learned to give up my turn and here in Hell is where I burn

 

 

The world of Satan
Where nothing gets healed
The rings of flames
Where the truth is revealed.
Find your real self in the Valley of hate
The very first second you get passed the gate
Abandon all hope ye who enter here
Surrender to me, surrender to fear
Beelzebub conquers Beelzebub wins
Happy to watch us devour our sins
Laughing and chuckling in the house that he built
Snickering at us as we choke on our guilt
Pursuing our pleasures that make us all moan
While seeking the answers best left alone
This is the sad tale the only one I can tell
If Jesus ever saw me he’d say… “Go To Hell!”
Kick it

The devil seduces us and introduces us to shit there is no use for us the he reduces us. Turns us to dust while we choke on our lust losing all trust in a fit of disgust.
Who can we turn to who to believe? We kneel and we pray as we weep we’re deceived. Here we receive the troubles we perceive and the sins we conceived. I’m going to Hell to learn and to grow, try to be pure as the new driven snow but Fuck it man I died a long time ago…… I just didn’t know

 

Live and Love in Peace

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

She Smiles At The World

 

She looks so alive
She seems so revived
The truth is she hurts
Feels dead inside
Beneath all the make up are the bruises she hides
The scars on her soul that have broken her pride
She’s alone on this ride and abused until she cries
Still she denies and buys into his lies
Her world so unsteady about to erupt
Using his fists the hits don’t let up
The man she once loved just can’t get it up
Until seeing her cry with her life in disrupt
Sobbing in pain pleading in vain
It gets him off to see her restrained
A life arcane drenched and Bloodstained
Each time he swears he won’t do it again
Without her permission he implants his emission
He gets fruition with her in submission
The life she once loved is coming unfurled
Gathers her hair and smiles at the world

No one can hear her soft supplication
The mental deflation from profound humiliation
So she lies with him naked in stony sedation
Feigning her love for his sexual elation
Numb from the punches and numb from dejection
Closing her eyes in religious reflection
Faiths all she has in profound introspection
He knows how to hit to avoid any detection
Punching her gives him a rising erection
Blood in his face gives him reddening complexion
But something goes wrong
It never stays hard it doesn’t last long
So the hits keep on coming
Rude crude and lewd
An extra fist pump if she shows attitude
Embraced but alone in her own solitude
All alone she won’t let anyone in
The price she must pay for living in sin
Minute by minute her life comes uncurled
Gathers her strength and smiles at the world
The thin line between love and hate
Thins evermore after just the first date
A cycle of violence
A reign of terror
Loving a monster
Treacherous error
The dickless coward
Feels so empowered
Facing a man would cause him to cower
He’s mud on her shoes
A fungus that grows
He’s just gotta go
Girl its now or never…..
He’ll never stop hitting
You’ve got to be clever
He’s a stain on your lifeline
Isn’t even worth shitting
Not to mention
Ain’t worth one single drop
Of your love and affection
But she never runs away
Can’t break their connection
More painful than the violence
Are the wounds on her soul
So deep have they become
The scars haven’t time grow old
She believes she deserves it
So she fashions a smile
Wears it like a mask
To cover a seizure
Creates an amnesia
Her lone anesthesia
But make no mistake
Its not a weakness but a strength
This warrior girl
Tries to shield us from the dread
The realities of abuse
In a smoldering bed
What can she do
To make life seem worthwhile
But go out in the world
And give it her smile
She smiles at the world
Not because she’s weak
She smiles so we don’t feel her pain
So don’t turn away
Smile in return
Offer a kind word
Maybe even confide
She smiles at the world
Because she hurts deep inside

MEGAN’S ROOM

room

 

Its with me everyday
The last moment we held you
When the world became icy and numb
So frigid the wind froze time
So bitter our hearts stood still
Glacial waters filled our beings
Melted only by the salt of our tears
The sun wept and the sky sobbed
The clouds refused to move
The landscape void of color
Our world filled with a brutal silence
Complete abandon
Through the deafening stillness
Mother Earth whispered your name
Beckoning you to sit by the still waters
By the river of silence so idle, so alone
Where I sang you a delicate lullaby
In the rhythm of my breaking heart
Because I had to let go of your hand
Liberate you from the bonds of pain
Your body now free to dance
Your breath belonging to the wind
Your tender voice sang back to me
As if to offer comfort to ease my hurt
Leaving behind only thoughtful memories
Echoing across your sacred room
The playmates we shared cried in gloom
That day we kissed you good bye
Our souls enslaved to despair
Time doesn’t heal, it scars
There’s a secret place in my mind
Where we go to play everyday
In my dreams where you smile
In the room where we used to play
A secret place where I hold your hand
As we search for what love we can find
I meet you there every day and night
In that secret place in my mind……..
Every birthday I count the years
The ones that could have been
But I lost track of how many the tears
The ones that I’ve cried within
Love you Baby Girl, this would have been 27
Life can speed by like a flash in a storm but you can’t hold on to a lightning bolt.
Live whenever you are, love whenever you can, and laugh whenever you want. Don’t hold on to your love, share it now and share it often…….Miss you every day Baby Girl

GET OUT

get out

 

Haven’t really done much lyrics writing but every once in a while I get inspired. After re-watching a movie about Ian Curtiss and Joy Division I was forced to revisit my dark NYC street days when everything I wrote was as evocative and nihilistic as Ian’s lyrics. Hope I only stay here for this one attempt at a song……

 
Get Out

 
Routine climbs my stairs
Behind it comes my fears
Laughing and dressed in gray
As my sanity slips away
When opportunity finally knocked
The cellar door was locked
Basement full of drought and doubt
I can’t get out

 
I can’t get out
I can’t get out
I built this cage
To run about
I built this cage
And locked it tight
Now stuck inside
Through light of night
I can’t get out

 

 

Ambition turned and ran away
The sun refused to wake the day
Wish this dreary world was not my home
And reality would get me stoned
Reluctantly the dark room dweller
Cries from the dank and unlit cellar
Inside my head I scream and shout
I can’t get out

 

 
I can’t get out
I can’t get out
No where to hide
I’m trapped inside
Inside my brain
A world insane
Trapped in a hole
So deep and cold
I can’t get out

 

 
Reaping now the pains I sowed
Paying back the debts I owe
I planted seeds of ice arcane
Chained to a wall of life mundane
In a house of seven gable
I’m the Cain that murdered Abel
Just waiting to perish in my hideout
I can’t get out

 
Earth of bed
Rotting sprout
Stone of name
I can’t get out
I’m neglected
Dejected and rejected
Brutal thoughts
I am subjected
To thrash and squirm about
No pride I cried
I wanna die
I’m burnt inside
Knife at my side
Suicide
I can’t get out I can’t get out

Five Words

five words

 

 

Heart on high alert

Frustration rising

Panic coursing through blood

Time excruciatingly painful

Every tic a pounding

A rhythm of frenzied dread

Waiting to hear

Waiting to know

Terrified of truth

Nagging doubt

Praying your wrong

Waiting

Nervous

Frightened

Hope almost out of reach

Disarmed

Begging to get an update

Then you hear the five words

The five words that change your life

“We did everything we could”

 

Reality Dissolves

empty

A vacancy so hollow it causes deep pain
Dreams echo inside abysmal desolation
Chasing sanity down glass rabbit holes
Existence perpetuated through dark desperation

Broken lucidity
Unruly validity
Emotion fragility
From all this hostility

My prophet he poured me hope on the rocks
Said “listen my friend, this to shall pass”
Illusion is always an arm length away
Reality dissolves at the bottom of the glass

Life on the run
Tasting a gun
Call 9-1-1
Before its all done

Solace can be found in chemical compounds
Bliss arises when the mind is all blurred
And dead or alive is a relative term
When life hinges upon the absurd

Tears On My Keyboard

tears

Why did I write this? I actually find the mundane moments of life to be among the most interesting to write about but some moments are so profoundly etched into our beings it begins to define us. This is about one of those moments and as hard it is to write and most assuredly will be hard to read the moment also defined an act of giving that effects many lives. Organ transplantation. A word about the title. As I write this story I am at my most naked and vulnerable self, opening and sharing the most profound moment of my life as I sit at my sanctuary, my refuge, my keyboard. This is the story of the last moments of my baby girl Megan’s life and it is guaranteed to have me crying into my keyboard as I relive it in words. So get a box of tissues and be prepared because you about to hear about me and my beautiful daughter, Megan Laurine Jaret.

There should be some cosmic universal law stating that we should never have to be reminded of the absolute worst moments of our lives but unfortunately there isn’t. There are constant triggers that create avalanches of harsh memories with corresponding emotional outpourings thrust upon us. A case in point was the memories stirred up in anyone who has had the disturbing experience of losing a loved one during an episode of Greys Anatomy a few weeks back. The end scenes focused on Derek being at the point of no return from an accident and his wife having to be there and witness his last breath but to also have to be the one to make the decision. A decision born of the purest form of love there is, an act of both total unselfishness and masochistic self-flagellation. The decision to allow someone you love who is in intolerable pain with no hope of any semblance of real life go. On it’s face it was a good television emotional moment but having had to go through a similar experience with my nineteen month old daughter the moment was converted to an entire tissue box outpouring of tears.
I’m not sure if this will be therapeutic for me or send me into a fugue but I do know that by the time I’m through I’ll be typing the story in a keyboard full of tears. So in an attempt to bring organ donation to the forefront I am sharing the story of those last moments. Load up on Kleenex. This is in honor of Megan, my Little Little, my Mighty Meg. A baby girl who gave so much more than she received.

It had been a long road. Megan became sick at only three weeks old. After three doctors visit and one night of Meg in constant pain we made our first trip to the ER where she was seen by a cardiologist, Dr. Milton Prystowski. He notice an irregular heartbeat and before we knew it Meg was having a spinal tap. She was diagnosed with an enlarged heart. She was put on a medicine regimen and sent home. Six months later on an otherwise serene Sunday morning she went into cardiac arrest in her crib. We immediately gave her mouth to mouth, called the ambulance and within minutes she was on her way back to the ER. We jumped in our car and flew up to meet her but she wasn’t there yet. We would find out later that they had to stop and use the defribulation panels on her. After a grueling fourteen hours she was in resting in NICU. The sight of seeing your baby girl in a tiny hospital crib with an IV in the tiny head was devastating, but not as devastating as the news. Her only chance of survival was a heart transplant.
Megan was transferred to a trauma center and eventually to a children’s hospital while we got schooled on organ transplantation. The process of procuring organs for transplant is cold by design to assure the right organ gets the best chance at life in the right body. Blood match and size match where first, geography was considered as organs don’t have a shelf life, and finally the most needy, or who is the closest to death. This prevents people of higher income to snatch away organs and makes it fair and ethical. Now we had to contend with the struggle of conscience knowing someone else’s child must die for Megan to live.

From there things got more difficult. Meg had a seizure in the children’s hospital in Philadelphia. Because the neuro-doctor determined she would not live a productive life due to slowed brain activity they removed her name from the transplant list. Undaunted Maureen got her a physical therapist and the two of them worked hard and got Megan performing tasks and tracking, or following things with her eyes. She was put back on the list after being seen by the transplant team at Columbian Presbyterian in New York. After a few months we got the call, a heart for Megan had become available and the scene was set. Her transplant was successful but it still required a long rehabilitation in the hospital. After over a month of living in the hospital with her we were finally able to take Megan home and she laughed and walked and despite being behind in dexterity for her age she was progressing. This is where the happy part of the story ends and becomes the worst moment of my life.
After eight glorious days watching Megan get stronger by the moment we were hammered with another set-back. Something was wrong and Megan’s health was suddenly deteriorating. We rushed her back to Columbian Presbyterian where she was re-admitted and taken into surgery. While in a waiting room we heard an announcement on the PA system calling for STAT, which we had previously learned was Latin for statim, a call for immediate emergency. Maureen and I looked at each other with deep concern because without knowing for sure what the call was we both knew in our most primal gut feelings it was a desperation call meant for Megan. Our baby girl was about to end up back in the Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit, a place we had become far to familiar with.
The first night there one of the babies next to us passed away and I witness a father comforting his teen age daughter who had fallen apart at the news that her child had lost his struggle. I remembered seeing the intense pain in his face, having to contend with losing his grandson while having to remain strong to comfort his daughter. The pain and love in his conflicted emotions were etched deeply into a troubled face, that wasn’t permitted to show it pain despite the profound depth of torture he was experiencing internally. It was very disconcerting and a tad prophetic as I wondered if I was going to assume a similar role if everything goes to shit. I pushed it out of my mind because we had agreed at the very start with Megan that no matter how slim the thread of hope was we would each grasp it firmly with both hands and hold it tightly to our hearts. Our closest friends and nearest family gathered to be by our sides to offer support. It wouldn’t be long before we would find ourselves desperate for that support.
Megan’s health had become a see saw of emotion, one moment weighing hopeful the next weighing cautious and slim. The moment came that I can only imagine that everyone in the healthcare field must dread. The time for honest and frank discussion about where a patients health had gone and the real and practical possible outcomes. We had become far too familiar with previously foreign terms like catastrophic illness, immunosuppressant, and Cardiomyopathy as the physicians often spoke to us in ‘Doctorese.’ But none of those were what the doctor had in store for us this time. There is not a thing in the universe that could prepare you for this sort of news. We were told directly and honestly that Megan’s outlook did not look promising, that her chance of survival was getting slimmer by the hour and we should begin preparing to make a decision. Once again we had our emotions splattered on the wall. The possibility of losing Megan had become earth shatteringly real.
They monitored her health but there was a heavy sense of the worst that could happen about to be happening. Megan’s cardiologist was choking back tears as she gave us the grim prospective and let us know that there was no longer anything they could do and as hard as it is the best thing for Megan was for us to let her go. We assured her we understood and went in to see Megan. When I approached Megan she was once again attached to an assortment of tubes and cables. We could the whirring of machines and the beeping of her heart monitor. As I walked over to Megan she looked up at me and communicated with her sad and profoundly tired eyes. With those eyes she said, “Daddy, I’m so sorry. It’s just so hard to go on fighting. I’ve been trying so hard to fight for you and Mommy but it’s too hard, I’ve been through so much and I’m not sure I can fight anymore. I’m so sorry Daddy, I love you.” It wasn’t words, but I fully understood anyway. I bent low to her face, kissed and said, “it’s okay to let go baby girl, it’s okay. We love you so much.” It was the hardest thing I ever had to say or do.
I’m not sure if it was to further torture myself for allowing Megan to die or to take my mind off what was really happening but I looked up from Megan and watched as the doctor responsible turned of all the beeping machines allowing a grotesque silence fill the room. I felt sorry for him, I could see in his twisted face that doing this was the worst possible job in the world. Then it occurred to me that I was wrong about that, the worst possible job in the world is being a parent and having to say goodbye to your child for the final time.
As promised, my keyboard is overflowing with tears re-living that moment. I will return in a day or so to complete my final note and then a few more days to garner enough confidence to post it. Peace……..

Epilogue

Today 21 people will die waiting for a transplant.
On average 10 people a day are added to the waiting list
Donating your organs can save or make better 10 lives

Having become part of the transplant community I have come to know some successful transplantation families that became filled love and deep gratitude to the donor. I met incredible donors and donor families, and was fortunate to watch as Maureen became an altruistic donor on a friends behalf which ended up in an eight kidney donation chain effecting multiple families. Organ donation is a cause we both believed in long before it became a reality for us and the time we spent with Megan after her transplant only serves to motivate us further. Please consider becoming an organ donor if you’re not already, and if you are thank you. There are a number of organizations you can look up for more information. UNOS, Donate Life, Gift Of Hope , among others. You can also go to http.orgndonor.gov

Final thought
People often say it must be so hard losing a child. I think painful is a better way to describe it, and like most pains it never fully goes away. You always retain an echo from such profound pain. I think the hard part was having to hear from so many well meaning but misguided attempts at putting it in perspective for me. No one really knows what to say or how to react to you. They awkwardly attempt to help me make sense of it but when your in that much pain making sense is just an unreal concept. It’s my pain and if I refuse to find deeper reasoning or understanding then let me. Don’t assign your concepts of coping to me. When a child dies telling the parent that it was gods will, or that she’s with the angels now does nothing to apply any sensibility to the loss. It isn’t something I will get through, it’s a huge sack of pain I carry everyday. Some days the sack is far heavier than others, but I carry it none the less. Its pain and like any other pain it needs to be treated. It will never be cured but it can be managed to a degree. To my thinking life is a long series of pain and relief, joy and sorrow, happy and sad. Opposites help us to appreciate the depth of each emotion and I just hope that my relief, joy, and happy moments far outweigh my pain, sorrow, and sad ones…….One World, One Peace….Save a life, donate your organs

No Way To Treat A Lady

no way

Preying the young in the stealth of evening
The visitation of his demented perversions
Unleashing his vile for an immoral pleasure
Deviant forcing them his unholy excursions

Disregarding the freedoms of his unwary victim
He pried deeply into her most intimate sanctums
Inflicted unwanted passions upon her at will
Not adhering her pleas to impose moral sanctions

Eagerly mounting innocence with pain sacrilegious
Another conquest for him to spread on his wall
Unbridled with guilt of inflicting unwanted filth
No ones conscience would he ever answer to at all

I whimper my compassion of her tragic dilemma
Tears of all the innocents they seep down my cheek
Nary one soul on behalf of the victim stands up
Sanctimoniously unable for her benefit to speak

Guilty perversions outdone by the turning of heads
The silent congregations hails phony of faith
Who observe in silence chanting boys will be boys
As the woman’s soul becomes one shattered wraith