I just remembered something I had hoped to forget,
A living nightmare of my own creation,
Also known by some as my life,
A sordid story about despair,
An endless loop of unknown cause,
But that’s just one more thing I’m hiding,
Just really don’t quite feel like dealing.
So I went under and almost made my exit,
Tripped half way over to the other side,
Stumbled back over, guess I changed my mind,
Muffled voices in and out of my hospital room,
White corridors and wheels on the shiny floors,
How are you feeling and other stupid questions,
Given the circumstances, I guess I’m alright.
Dude what the hell happened, I’ll play along,
Not really sure, don’t quite remember,
Head’s still in a fog, voices sound so strange,
Well I guess you had a seizure,
Well I guess my body was just smarter than the brain,
Can barely put two thoughts together,
Same old story keeps running through like a train.
Can’t really seem to focus, will this feeling go away,
How sad for everyone if this is how I end my days,
Endless looping on into infinity,
Single story without end,
Daddy fried his brain one night,
Just for something to do,
Who are those people sitting with you?
Oh, you see them, too,
Thought they were a figment,
But I guess they’re here to watch me,
Make sure I don’t hurt myself,
Not a bad gig for a student,
Just sitting around doing nothing,
Just call the nurse if the patient gets rowdy.
I chatted with this doc and another,
Ended up going to St. Lawrence for a spell,
They told me they had no choice in the matter,
Got picked up by an ambulance and all,
Thought about making a run for it but had no shoes,
So tried sleeping with the other wackos,
Didn’t trust a single one, was ready to fight.
They feed you pretty good,
If you like American food,
Also gave me a nicotine patch,
And got to chill with the other guests,
Felt like I was in “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,”
Trying so hard to look, act and sound normal,
Didn’t want to become a permanent resident.
I remember those three days were beautiful,
Outside the sun was shining and looked warm,
Stuck inside in too-cold air conditioning,
Wanted to go skate like nothing else,
Wanted to see my babies and hold them,
So sorry for what I’d done,
So very sick of myself.
6.27.2008
living nightmare (lack of sleep)
Slipping down the corridors of time,
Souls sealed within blackened walls,
Translucent and electric, crackling in the dim light,
Fates withered to shadow beings,
The mad tumult of emotions and thoughts,
Cavernous arenas of the long dead,
Suffocating under the weight of regret,
Hungry ghosts longing for the glow of the sun,
Imprisoned for eternity in a hellish malaise,
Longing for release or finality but finding none,
Eternity spent living and reliving their sorry lives,
An infinite loop in an infinite cosmos,
Beyond time or memory or ideas,
Pain beyond human reckoning,
Devoid of anything corporal or material,
They’d tear themselves asunder if able,
To end the agony of the undead,
A picture show of memories broadcast overhead,
Each fixed to their own and no other,
Conscious just enough to feel others’ pain,
A flicker here and there of another’s life,
Waves of horror ripple through the throngs,
They cry for naught as nothing will change,
Not purgatory nor hell just the final stop,
For all time until space and matter end,
Ethereal luminous grave of the unknowns,
All the lies and deceits of their lives laid bare,
Running constantly through their vacant eyes,
Spirit world of the damned and damnable,
Where even the holiest of the holy dwell,
Angels and devils rolled into the latter,
Promises made but never fulfilled,
Ten billion heartbeats fill the air,
Sick and slow but none ever stops,
All wish for a final death but remain trapped,
Souls without bodies screaming without a sound,
Cursing their births and soulless lives.
Souls sealed within blackened walls,
Translucent and electric, crackling in the dim light,
Fates withered to shadow beings,
The mad tumult of emotions and thoughts,
Cavernous arenas of the long dead,
Suffocating under the weight of regret,
Hungry ghosts longing for the glow of the sun,
Imprisoned for eternity in a hellish malaise,
Longing for release or finality but finding none,
Eternity spent living and reliving their sorry lives,
An infinite loop in an infinite cosmos,
Beyond time or memory or ideas,
Pain beyond human reckoning,
Devoid of anything corporal or material,
They’d tear themselves asunder if able,
To end the agony of the undead,
A picture show of memories broadcast overhead,
Each fixed to their own and no other,
Conscious just enough to feel others’ pain,
A flicker here and there of another’s life,
Waves of horror ripple through the throngs,
They cry for naught as nothing will change,
Not purgatory nor hell just the final stop,
For all time until space and matter end,
Ethereal luminous grave of the unknowns,
All the lies and deceits of their lives laid bare,
Running constantly through their vacant eyes,
Spirit world of the damned and damnable,
Where even the holiest of the holy dwell,
Angels and devils rolled into the latter,
Promises made but never fulfilled,
Ten billion heartbeats fill the air,
Sick and slow but none ever stops,
All wish for a final death but remain trapped,
Souls without bodies screaming without a sound,
Cursing their births and soulless lives.
...another unfinished love song...
You say I pushed you away,
Don’t doubt that’s how you feel,
But don’t remember it happening quite that way,
Not even sure how or when,
Didn’t suddenly change one day,
Not sure where to even begin,
Seems like its always been,
But nice of you to give me the blame,
Always wanted something of my own,
You’ve become like everybody else, its all the same,
Expected you to be different somehow,
Thought you were the one from the start,
But I’ve got nobody else to blame now,
So how do I go on living this lie,
Trying so hard to see this through
Please tell me why I should even try,
Long awkward silences between us,
Buffering our every exchange…
Don’t doubt that’s how you feel,
But don’t remember it happening quite that way,
Not even sure how or when,
Didn’t suddenly change one day,
Not sure where to even begin,
Seems like its always been,
But nice of you to give me the blame,
Always wanted something of my own,
You’ve become like everybody else, its all the same,
Expected you to be different somehow,
Thought you were the one from the start,
But I’ve got nobody else to blame now,
So how do I go on living this lie,
Trying so hard to see this through
Please tell me why I should even try,
Long awkward silences between us,
Buffering our every exchange…
being and doing
I’ve given up on Philosophy,
I’ll confine myself to being or doing,
Anything else beyond that is useless,
The talking and the thinking just exercises,
Luxuries I can no longer afford.
My oldest son tells me he cannot run,
He knows his body and he knows himself,
To be so young and so full of knowledge,
It must be wonderful to be so full of everything,
But simply being young would be wonderful enough.
His polar opposite is the my five-year old,
The one who thinks he can be or do anything,
But he’s got me convinced that he can,
Unless it involves falling or scrapes,
Like when I tried to teach him how to skate.
Maybe the truth is squarely in the middle,
You can achieve some things but not all,
Cannot learn Kung Fu simply by watching a movie,
But could learn the rudiments given time,
No such thing as a natural at anything.
Time and experience the only true teachers,
Learn as you go and grow,
But to not even try seems so severe,
Worse than thinking you know it all,
Or know much more than you actually do.
In the heady days of childhood,
We think we can all be superstars,
Buy into the myth of the supernatural,
Not realizing that we are born limited,
By genetics and experience.
To travel down the road of actually trying,
Exposes us to the fact that we will fall short,
Just supramundane in every way,
Just another dreamer lost in the clouds,
Wishing for that which will never be.
Is it a greater crime to never try,
Than to be less than great at whatever,
Who do we really measure ourselves against,
The unreachable one percent or less,
Or merely measure our own progress?
I’m done comparing myself to anyone else,
Just want to see what I can do,
Ultra-average at the very best,
But better than doing nothing at all,
Wishing I was this or that.
I’m done with philosophizing,
Trying to make sense of this life,
I’ll just try to be and do the best I can,
Worrying or thinking hasn’t worked too well,
So now I’ll try another route.
Happiness has always been fleeting,
But I’ve been playing by someone else’s rules,
Never seemed to measure up,
Here and now and nowhere else,
From here on in for no one but myself.
I’ll confine myself to being or doing,
Anything else beyond that is useless,
The talking and the thinking just exercises,
Luxuries I can no longer afford.
My oldest son tells me he cannot run,
He knows his body and he knows himself,
To be so young and so full of knowledge,
It must be wonderful to be so full of everything,
But simply being young would be wonderful enough.
His polar opposite is the my five-year old,
The one who thinks he can be or do anything,
But he’s got me convinced that he can,
Unless it involves falling or scrapes,
Like when I tried to teach him how to skate.
Maybe the truth is squarely in the middle,
You can achieve some things but not all,
Cannot learn Kung Fu simply by watching a movie,
But could learn the rudiments given time,
No such thing as a natural at anything.
Time and experience the only true teachers,
Learn as you go and grow,
But to not even try seems so severe,
Worse than thinking you know it all,
Or know much more than you actually do.
In the heady days of childhood,
We think we can all be superstars,
Buy into the myth of the supernatural,
Not realizing that we are born limited,
By genetics and experience.
To travel down the road of actually trying,
Exposes us to the fact that we will fall short,
Just supramundane in every way,
Just another dreamer lost in the clouds,
Wishing for that which will never be.
Is it a greater crime to never try,
Than to be less than great at whatever,
Who do we really measure ourselves against,
The unreachable one percent or less,
Or merely measure our own progress?
I’m done comparing myself to anyone else,
Just want to see what I can do,
Ultra-average at the very best,
But better than doing nothing at all,
Wishing I was this or that.
I’m done with philosophizing,
Trying to make sense of this life,
I’ll just try to be and do the best I can,
Worrying or thinking hasn’t worked too well,
So now I’ll try another route.
Happiness has always been fleeting,
But I’ve been playing by someone else’s rules,
Never seemed to measure up,
Here and now and nowhere else,
From here on in for no one but myself.
time or space
Leaning against the empty door frame,
Smoking a cigarette as I stare at the giant maple tree,
Leaning eastward toward the garage where I stand,
I take sips from a 40-ouncer, tucked away on a shelf,
Rays of light slice through small openings in the canopy,
Trash litters the dirt that once was grass,
Bone dry and shaded backyard in this college town.
Little E practices his Kung Fu moves,
The ones he learned from the animated movie,
As he kicks and hits the chair swing,
Hanging from the giant maple a few feet from me,
Clouds of dust kicked up under his feet,
Big fat bumblebees buzz by through the doorway,
As cardinals and blue jays dart from tree to tree.
What remains of the lawn is mostly weeds,
Dandelions and other broad-leafed invaders,
Moss and vines have staked their claims as well,
And sticks and small limbs from the last big storm,
Tossed helter-skelter under half-dead trees,
Thirteen of them that I can remember,
The biggest is the maple right in front of me.
The tree worries me because of its size,
Giant limbs cover the back of the house,
Starting to reach the roof of the garage,
One big storm could be enough,
To send it crashing into one or the other,
Both buildings are shedding shingles like crazy,
Littering the sidewalk with tiny black pebbles.
I emptied the rain gutters the other week,
Leaves and twigs and pebbles as well,
Never had that problem before this year,
But everything decided to fall apart at the same time,
Giant cracks in the gutters patched with caulk,
To try to stem the rainwater from reaching the basement,
Shows the signs of years of water damage.
What is the statute of limitations for a lie,
The previous owner lives just down the street,
Claimed ignorance to any serious problems,
But now the problem is mine and no longer his,
So typical of everything else in my life,
The smell of rotting wet matter can’t be escaped,
Black mold forming in unseen corners.
Setting my sinus cavities aflame,
Z-man coughing and weezing from just a wiff,
Who will pay for this travesty,
Where is the justice in all of this,
And to think that we fought to save the house,
Didn’t have enough sense to just walk away,
Should have just gotten an apartment.
B sticks her head through the empty screen door,
Tells us dinner is ready and to wash up,
I glance to the back of the yard,
Another hundred and forty or so feet,
More than enough room to raise a family,
Plenty of privacy and space for the kids,
Some burdens are heavy but still worthwhile.
Just couldn’t imagine having to share space,
Sandwiched between noisy and unruly neighbors,
The stillness of the yard brings me peace,
Even though there is always more to do,
Never done picking up after the kids or trees,
But the noise is our own as is the silence,
And no one usurps our time or space.
Smoking a cigarette as I stare at the giant maple tree,
Leaning eastward toward the garage where I stand,
I take sips from a 40-ouncer, tucked away on a shelf,
Rays of light slice through small openings in the canopy,
Trash litters the dirt that once was grass,
Bone dry and shaded backyard in this college town.
Little E practices his Kung Fu moves,
The ones he learned from the animated movie,
As he kicks and hits the chair swing,
Hanging from the giant maple a few feet from me,
Clouds of dust kicked up under his feet,
Big fat bumblebees buzz by through the doorway,
As cardinals and blue jays dart from tree to tree.
What remains of the lawn is mostly weeds,
Dandelions and other broad-leafed invaders,
Moss and vines have staked their claims as well,
And sticks and small limbs from the last big storm,
Tossed helter-skelter under half-dead trees,
Thirteen of them that I can remember,
The biggest is the maple right in front of me.
The tree worries me because of its size,
Giant limbs cover the back of the house,
Starting to reach the roof of the garage,
One big storm could be enough,
To send it crashing into one or the other,
Both buildings are shedding shingles like crazy,
Littering the sidewalk with tiny black pebbles.
I emptied the rain gutters the other week,
Leaves and twigs and pebbles as well,
Never had that problem before this year,
But everything decided to fall apart at the same time,
Giant cracks in the gutters patched with caulk,
To try to stem the rainwater from reaching the basement,
Shows the signs of years of water damage.
What is the statute of limitations for a lie,
The previous owner lives just down the street,
Claimed ignorance to any serious problems,
But now the problem is mine and no longer his,
So typical of everything else in my life,
The smell of rotting wet matter can’t be escaped,
Black mold forming in unseen corners.
Setting my sinus cavities aflame,
Z-man coughing and weezing from just a wiff,
Who will pay for this travesty,
Where is the justice in all of this,
And to think that we fought to save the house,
Didn’t have enough sense to just walk away,
Should have just gotten an apartment.
B sticks her head through the empty screen door,
Tells us dinner is ready and to wash up,
I glance to the back of the yard,
Another hundred and forty or so feet,
More than enough room to raise a family,
Plenty of privacy and space for the kids,
Some burdens are heavy but still worthwhile.
Just couldn’t imagine having to share space,
Sandwiched between noisy and unruly neighbors,
The stillness of the yard brings me peace,
Even though there is always more to do,
Never done picking up after the kids or trees,
But the noise is our own as is the silence,
And no one usurps our time or space.
ye great kings
Oh ye great kings and conquerors of old,
What greatness was held within your breast,
Why did the gods shower favor unto you,
Or was it just a happy coincidence,
Twists of fate and favorable births,
Right time right place,
Born a prince in ancient times,
When the populace was still scant?
Lucky from the start,
Pushed along by happy fates,
Technology and technique,
A phalanx for Alexander,
Sturdy horsemen for Genghis,
A collapsing empire for Attila,
Tricks and idiosyncrasies to pave the way,
All the planets and stars in perfect alignment.
Long dull days of quiet desperation for me,
Dying a little bit more with each passing one,
Longing for some glorious test,
Living on my knees bowing to all,
Convention and responsibility and everything else,
Reduced to common slavery,
Chained to my cubicle in a post-modern world,
Just another faceless pawn in an endless game.
Greatness drives some men mad,
But a life of compromises and faded dreams does the same,
Realizing one’s own mediocrity no joy,
Faced with nothing but limitations on all sides,
Fear the same for the offspring as well,
But maybe they’ll break from their bonds,
Watch silently as their chances are whittled away,
The wanting is the most dangerous part.
In this place and time of so much,
Perhaps there are simply too many of us,
So little chance for most to ever break free,
Happy accidents propel some to the top,
While the rest live off the crumbs and dreams,
What is the true worth of any one person,
A name a family their possessions,
Or the ability to swallow their pride and grovel?
There is no more glory to be had in this life,
Everything reduced to a commodity,
We are valued only as consumers,
Of goods and services we do not need,
Ye kings and conquerors of old,
What would you do in such a world,
Captains of technology and/or billionaires,
Or grunts laboring away at some big-box store?
To have or to be is the biggest question,
What does either really matter in the end,
Withered slimy bags wasting away in coffins,
Entombed in concrete vaults for a thousand years,
Just scatter my ashes to the four winds,
King of the air and nothing more,
Favored for once with a human birth,
But wasted all the chances I ever had.
What greatness was held within your breast,
Why did the gods shower favor unto you,
Or was it just a happy coincidence,
Twists of fate and favorable births,
Right time right place,
Born a prince in ancient times,
When the populace was still scant?
Lucky from the start,
Pushed along by happy fates,
Technology and technique,
A phalanx for Alexander,
Sturdy horsemen for Genghis,
A collapsing empire for Attila,
Tricks and idiosyncrasies to pave the way,
All the planets and stars in perfect alignment.
Long dull days of quiet desperation for me,
Dying a little bit more with each passing one,
Longing for some glorious test,
Living on my knees bowing to all,
Convention and responsibility and everything else,
Reduced to common slavery,
Chained to my cubicle in a post-modern world,
Just another faceless pawn in an endless game.
Greatness drives some men mad,
But a life of compromises and faded dreams does the same,
Realizing one’s own mediocrity no joy,
Faced with nothing but limitations on all sides,
Fear the same for the offspring as well,
But maybe they’ll break from their bonds,
Watch silently as their chances are whittled away,
The wanting is the most dangerous part.
In this place and time of so much,
Perhaps there are simply too many of us,
So little chance for most to ever break free,
Happy accidents propel some to the top,
While the rest live off the crumbs and dreams,
What is the true worth of any one person,
A name a family their possessions,
Or the ability to swallow their pride and grovel?
There is no more glory to be had in this life,
Everything reduced to a commodity,
We are valued only as consumers,
Of goods and services we do not need,
Ye kings and conquerors of old,
What would you do in such a world,
Captains of technology and/or billionaires,
Or grunts laboring away at some big-box store?
To have or to be is the biggest question,
What does either really matter in the end,
Withered slimy bags wasting away in coffins,
Entombed in concrete vaults for a thousand years,
Just scatter my ashes to the four winds,
King of the air and nothing more,
Favored for once with a human birth,
But wasted all the chances I ever had.
6.01.2008
prop it up
broken eavestrough filled with tiny black fragments,
ripped away from the decaying shingles above,
trying to prop it up trying to fix it,
like Sisyphus with his rock,
valiant effort all for naught,
have to ask a third party if I can,
when I can't even communicate with those close at hand,
trying to hold it all together,
but in the end what does it really matter,
stop answering my calls,
you owe nothing to me,
just barely hanging on by a string,
its not your fault,
never really was,
just let it go and me with it,
what happens is my problem,
you got enough of your own,
was never fair for my to expect otherwise,
set up for failure right from the start,
nothing and no one can help me now,
have no one to blame except for myself,
I give you my blessing to walk away,
ni further need to prop me up,
we were friends from the very start,
should never have wanted more than that,
holding on just out of spite,
or maybe because of my ego,
either way its alright,
thanks for your patience,
sorry about all the drama,
friends until the end,
and all that trite stuff,
I'm sinking fast,
so think you should bail,
don't want to drown you too,
clear out while its still safe,
get away before its too late,
the force of my weight going under,
gonna suck you down too otherwise,
helicopter seeds fill my gutters,
i grab a handful and watch them flutter,
hitting the ground without a sound,
heliopter wings in the midwest,
sets off a typhoon in Southeast Asia,
all connected but feel so alone,
doesn't really matter one way or the other,
we arrive and die the exact same way,
a singular cry or whimper,
into the great unknown,
so all alone,
so very alone...
ripped away from the decaying shingles above,
trying to prop it up trying to fix it,
like Sisyphus with his rock,
valiant effort all for naught,
have to ask a third party if I can,
when I can't even communicate with those close at hand,
trying to hold it all together,
but in the end what does it really matter,
stop answering my calls,
you owe nothing to me,
just barely hanging on by a string,
its not your fault,
never really was,
just let it go and me with it,
what happens is my problem,
you got enough of your own,
was never fair for my to expect otherwise,
set up for failure right from the start,
nothing and no one can help me now,
have no one to blame except for myself,
I give you my blessing to walk away,
ni further need to prop me up,
we were friends from the very start,
should never have wanted more than that,
holding on just out of spite,
or maybe because of my ego,
either way its alright,
thanks for your patience,
sorry about all the drama,
friends until the end,
and all that trite stuff,
I'm sinking fast,
so think you should bail,
don't want to drown you too,
clear out while its still safe,
get away before its too late,
the force of my weight going under,
gonna suck you down too otherwise,
helicopter seeds fill my gutters,
i grab a handful and watch them flutter,
hitting the ground without a sound,
heliopter wings in the midwest,
sets off a typhoon in Southeast Asia,
all connected but feel so alone,
doesn't really matter one way or the other,
we arrive and die the exact same way,
a singular cry or whimper,
into the great unknown,
so all alone,
so very alone...
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