Led Zeppelin

Listening to Led Zeppelin to pass the time,
Started thinking back to the summer of 1980,
The summer of my liberation,
Broke free from parental control,
Opened my eyes to other possibilities,
A crossroads in so many ways,
Stuck between elementary and junior high,
Realized that there was so much beyond,
Just what I saw or was told by mom or dad,
A world beyond my little neighborhood.
My parents went to Thailand,
Hoping to bring my sister back with them,
She who they left with my grams,
Back in ’74 when I came over,
Something about paperwork,
Something about governmental red tape,
My half-sister growing up half a world away,
So they shipped Jay and I off to Uncle D’s,
Over on the Eastside just past Gratiot,
South of 7 Mile just east of Hayes.
Uncle D and Aunt Dot—
Living on Glenbrook with Bri and Matt,
Along with Aunt Dot’s mom,
Assorted pets and not much else,
In a big brick house on a quiet street,
Lined with tall trees and broken sidewalks,
Haunted by the ghosts of Detroit’s past.
It seems like we spent most every weekend there,
My dad and uncle were the best of friends,
Just a year apart-but so different in every way,
And the worst of enemies when they fought,
Which was never that often that I can recall,
Uncle D filled the room with his presence,
His booming laugh and contagious spirit,
He was a good head taller than my father,
Who was quiet and average by comparison,
But memories can be distorted and faded by time.
Brian was four years my senior,
Entering his second year at Finney H.S.,
And Matt was four years younger,
Almost splitting the difference between me and my brother,
And Bri introduced me to Heavy Metal that summer,
The same year that we’d lose Bonham, Curtis and Marley,
Up until then I just listened to whatever,
Stuck on the Beatles’ Abbey Road,
And whatever else my parents had on vinyl/reel-to-reel/cassette,
From Jim Croce to Johnny Cash and Buddy Holly to Bollywood.
I listened to some Motown and 50's too,
Frankie Valli and even Elvis,
But Zeppelin was new and raw,
Even though it was twelve years after,
Nowhere near cutting edge by then,
But I was awestruck just the same,
And stayed that way until MTV,
Spin Magazine/Rolling Stone and alternative shows,
Introduced me to a whole other scene,
A sound that I still admire to this day.
Back in the summer of 1980,
I was all about Plant/Page/Bonham and Jones,
As we walked the back alleys of Detroit,
Looking for trouble looking for something,
To take us away from the everyday,
Led Zeppelin I, II, III and IV,
Presence, Houses of the Holy,
The Song Remains the Same,
Physical Graffiti and In Through the Out Door,
Couldn't believe my ears wanted to hear more.
They bridged the gap with their blues/rock,
Proto-heavy metal cock rock,
Expanded our minds with unique sounds,
Took us to Kashmir and Valhalla,
Tied east and west and everything inbetween,
Vocalized pre-teen angst and lust,
Introduced so many different ideas,
I could go on and on but I need a beer,
So if any of you feel the same,
Just let me know and I'll lend an ear...

so what

so much for your ultimatums,
so much for your little fit,
nothing seems to have changed,
still going through the same shit,
so what/so what/so what,
whatcha gonna do now,
all alone from the bottom of your hole,
nowhere to run,
got nothing to show,
so what the hell do you think,
what the hell you gonna do,
nobody even cares,
nobody is listening to you,
what the fuck did you really expect,
who the fuck do you think you are,
so what/so what/so what,
so you think a little different,
so you think somebody really gives a shit,
same old trap,
different day/same old crap,
nothing more to say,
nowhere to hide,
seal it all up,
keep it inside,
don't bother trying to decide,
which lies to believe,
was it the one or the other,
was she right all along,
maybe you need to stand strong,
so what/so what/so what,
everyone watching the show,
everyone giggling and laughing,
you got played just admit it,
nothing else but to admit it,
you're the bitch and everyone knows,
so get your bitch ass to work,
don't even say a word,
bitch shut your trap,
which reality you gonna choose,
so what/so what/so what,
watcha got left to give,
nothing behind your tired ass eyelids,
thousand yard stare,
bald-head blinding me with the glare,
salt-and-pepper flakes,
bearded old ass never-been,
living the same lie over and over again,
so where you been,
watcha seen,
wake the fuck up outta your dream,
so what/so what/so what,
do watcha gotta do,
but please shut the fuck up.

4 days, 2 monkeys and 1 willing captive

5/16/2006

Four days of rain is about my limit.
Can’t take anymore of this.
I just want to see the sun again.
The winters here are killing me as it is.
Three or four weeks of no sunshine in the midst of winter.
Don’t get me wrong, I like having all four seasons and I enjoy the changes from season-to-season.
I’d just like to see the sun a little more often.
I’ll be complaining about the heat and humidity come August,
a little strange since I was born and raised in the tropics.

There are two kinds of monkeys, or so the saying goes.
I think it’s an old Hindu story, perhaps it’s Buddhist.
The first kind waits for it’s mama to do everything,
expects to be taken care of and to be told what to do.
The second one survives by it’s own action,
even if that means grabbing onto mama and holding on for dear life as she swings from tree to tree.
I’m trying hard to be that second kind of monkey,
but I keep reverting to the first.
Waiting for someone or something to come along and save me.
Waiting to be picked up, carried, and catered to.
I know the warning signs of slipping into that mindset,
but here I am again, repeating my same old mistakes yet again.
I’ve fought off most of my addictions, or so I thought.
I felt that I should be given a reprieve or an easier way to go.
My crutches are far less insidious than before, but they hold sway over me still. Cigarettes, soda, even Thai food, all fill a void,
give me a shot of endorphins and I cling to them.

Imprisoned by my fears and expectations. Longing for freedom, but unsure
how/where. The blame is always somewhere else.
The reason is always without.
I burrow away deeper within, shielding myself from whatever it is that shakes my beliefs or my sense of well being. I don’t realize that I am a willing captive, that I control my own freedom.
I have walled myself away from the world to protect this fragile ego, blaming everyone and everything else for my imprisonment.
When will I awaken?
When will it end?

one-sided conversation

5/20/2006

O.k. dude, I know everyone has let you down in your life.
Your pops let you down; your mom let you down.
Grams would leave you at home by yourself, no food, no nothing.
The uncles were messed up beyond belief, drunkenness and stupidity
being a bad mix, but you survived all that. You made it out.
We’re both survivors, man, that’s got to count for something, right?
So what kind of mess have you gotten yourself into? There’s gotta be a way out.
What do you need to do to get it straight—what hoops do you need to jump through?
Just do what you gotta do, man, for your sake,
for your kid’s sake.
I don’t know what happened when you were growing up, dude,
I was too young to remember all that stuff. I can barely
remember what happened in my own life, you know?
Our parents were dealing with their own issues back then.
It was a different world back then.
That whole generation--fresh from the war,
doing time in the state or federal system,
dealing with alcoholism, racism,
whatever was going on then.
They lived through the whole civil rights movement,
they were finally allowed to be Indian,
for the first time in their lives.
The whole pan-Indian movement swept across
the continent at that time.
They paved the way for us, and unfortunately,
they had to go through a lot of stuff just be able to say,
with pride, “I’m Indian.” It’s a heck of a lot easier for us,
but we still had to live through mom/dad and everyone else detoxing,
figuring out what the heck they were doing.
They took all kinds of crap out on you and me,
but that was what we did back in those days, you know?
It’s easy for me to sit here and tell you things will work out,
I didn’t go through what you went through.
But we gotta work it out for the next generation,
man. This isn’t about you or me, it’s about the kids—
and their kids, s@#%, seven generations, dude.
We gotta get it straight for all of them.
We gotta succeed despite all the crap that we been through,
show our kids a better way.
I haven’t always made the right choices,
haven’t always done the right thing either.
Dealt with my own substance abuse issues,
lost days and weeks to a drunken stupor,
but that’s done and over with.
Black Elk went through all kinds of crazy stuff,
but he made it out—he became a great spiritual leader,
despite all that stuff.
Maybe because of all that stuff.
He saw both sides—the good and the bad—
he saw the evil and stupidity that we’re all capable of.
He chose the good though, didn’t he? The “Red Road”.
We gotta start somewhere.
We can make something better for those that come after us.
Don’t give in to the stereotypes, the alcohol, whatever.
Don’t let those haters be right about you.
If we end up drunk and useless or in prison or dead,
then they win. I don’t want them to be right about us.
I want to prove them wrong.
I’m not the most compassionate person in the world,
and I don’t know all what you went through,
but don’t let that be the reason they win.
Don’t let that be the reason you gave up.
We’ll take care of what we need to take care of—
then move on. This is what it’s all about, now.
WE decide, WE make the changes.
It’s all about self-determination.
This is how we get out of poverty, alcoholism,
all that jazz. We have to succeed. You can do this—
there’s so many people counting on you to fail—
you HAVE to do this.

stream of consciousness

5/25/2006

Suffocating, can’t breathe.
Nothing, nothing, meaningless, empty.
Where’d I put that lip balm?
Just another addiction to soothe my damaged ego.
Emptiness, emptiness, nothing.
Wish I could breathe just now.
Tornado watch in effect, had a big storm yesterday.
My head’s been killing me.
Something about the change in barometric pressure,
I can always feel a storm coming.
Nada, nada, zilch, zero, nothing, no one.
Canker sore’s killing me.
Wanted to go skating, streets were too wet,
still drying off from yesterday’s deluge.
Rotting away, everyday closer to death,
sucking air, sucking wind.
Wish a tornado would knock my little shack over,
start from scratch.
Anything’s better than that overpriced hole that I can’t even afford.
Another ninety-day late to drag down my credit report.
Creditors calling my house every day, at all hours.
Nothing to say to them, so I don’t answer.
No money, except for some loosed change kicking around in the car.
The car that I didn’t make a payment on,
the one that hasn’t had insurance since last month.
The same one that needs a new something-or-other on the front passenger side,
I hear the hardware jiggling around every time I turn a corner or hit a pothole.
Shut up. Shut up. Drop dead. Go die. Stupid f@#$.
How the hell did it get to this point?
How the hell did it get so bad?
Emptiness, emptiness, whatever.
Who cares anyways?
If that storm comes, we’re going to be in deep trouble.
Stupid sump pump is busted. Basement’s gonna flood.
One nostril totally plugged, not getting enough oxygen, I’m sure.
Doesn’t seem fair, doesn’t seem right.
Shi’s dying and here I am bitchin about whatever.
I’m worth more dead than alive, nothing I can do right now . . .
Dying wouldn’t solve anything,
but it’s killing me to sit here and do nothing.
Maybe only the good die young,
cause here I am stilling kicking around,
Despite my intentions, despite my stupidity.
Sleep, need to sleep. Just want to sleep.
Shi, Shi, Shi, what a cruel life this can be.
Shi’s dad died when she was a baby, never even got to know him.
Her kids, her mom, Auntie S_ . . . what are they gonna do?
You don’t get what you need, don’t get what you deserve . . .
Not in this lifetime. Not in this plane of existence.
My creditors don’t seem to give a rat’sass about life and death or whatever.
Axed everyone I know for some zhooniya, getting turned down everywhere.
The bank, credit union, brother-in-law, you name it.
Zhooniya, zhooniya zhooniya.
Gonna kill the bastage that invented that crapola, for sure.
Starting to breathe a little better, Zyrtec must be kicking in.
Someone’s cooking ramen in the kitchen, chicken flavor.
Need to go to the Asian food mart, stock up on rice noodles and ramen.
Cheaper than dirt, too much MSG, shouldn’t be eating so much processed food.
Can’t afford nothing else. Can’t stomach anything else.
Rice, fish sauce and peppers.
All I want, all I need.
Nothing, Nada, Nil.
Here comes the rain. Here it comes again.
I love the rain. I love the rain.
Rain. Gimewaan. Fon-took.
Giichii Manido shii-shiik, so Z used to say.
It’s all shii-shiik, son. Shii-shiik and miizii.

11/11

Cold cold cold when’s it gonna snow,
Not going to stick around,
At least I hope so,
Remains to be seen just when,
Just how this season pans out.
Getting antsy already and still November,
Don’t know how I’m gonna last this winter,
So we threw together some janky ramps,
We’ll save up and do a proper quarter-pipe,
To ward off the mid-winter blahs.
Novi park was sledge-hammered and bulldozed,
The rest collecting dust in storage,
So off to Grand Rapids and Kalamazoo,
The two nearest indoor joints,
We’ll pay them a visit and see what we can do.
A proper quarter for all of us to learn,
Practice those fakies and kickturns,
Just about did a manual or two,
But need to teach the muscles,
Burn it into memory for future use.
Mind over matter just like everything else,
Hey Z—you did it, wasn’t that easy,
Nothing to it/just gotta do it,
Now when you’re ready take it to the next level,
Fear is the enemy/fear is the devil.
These little victories along the way,
Learn and grow and keep on playing,
This life is too short to get to hung up,
To get rattled and distraught over small stuff,
But most of it is just small stuff my binojiinhs.
Little E was telling me about what he wants to be,
Not sure if he wants to be a great chef,
A baseball player/footballer/superhero,
Within reason/based in reality,
I told him that he can be whatever he wants to be.
Stop throwing up boundaries in your own way,
Open yourself to your life and seize the day,
Skate on the metaphysical transitions of life,
Carve and grind/pump and slash,
That’s what I really want you to learn.
That’s what’s been behind this whole thing,
From the very first time we went to the park,
It’s not just about the skating/but what’s in your heart,
To put yourself out there and learn a new skill,
To live in the moment/to fully enjoy the thrill.
Set your heart and set your mind,
Teach your body/ride out that grind,
Pop out onto the deck,
Testing the laws of physics,
Getting a healthy legal fix.
Push push push feel the wind on your face,
You decide how fast/you determine the pace,
Just like a long-distance runner,
It’s just you against yourself and the elements,
Somewhere out there beyond reason or sense.

the shadowlands

Half-awake lying on a gurney,
Lights down low to spare my eyes,
IV fluids in my right arm,
Plastic plug in my nose,
Contacts all over my body,
For an EKG, I think?
What the hell did I do now?
Hospital gown over my tie-dyed shirt,
Sans pants, sans shoes,
Sans sense or memory,
The smell of bile and shit,
Floating above me,
Just below the darkened fluorescent lights.
I floated in and out of consciousness,
As the male nurse kept coming and going,
Telling me to drink my charcoal,
To flush my system of the toxins,
Ingested and digested,
Half-tripping, half-serious.
My forearm purple and blue,
Can contacts shock, or did I just roll?
Not too sure, but that doesn’t look good,
Wishing I hadn’t had that whiskey,
Wishing I could just forget,
Only a mere shadow of myself,
Walking in this shadow world,
Full of lies and deceit,
No love, no hope, no chance.
The morning shift comes in,
They tell me I had a rough night,
They say I had a seizure,
They’re moving me upstairs,
Gonna keep me for a few days,
Not sure of the damage,
Not sure of the effects.
Floating in and out of the shadows,
Answering questions and making sense,
When needed, when prompted,
Then I slink back to my hole,
I sleep it off and the safety sitters watch,
Sometimes they read, sometimes watch t.v.,
Never leaving me alone,
Always there to remind me.
The sitter helps me to the bathroom,
Stands guard outside with the door open,
As I stare into the mirror, my eyes wide-open,
Like a frightened deer, state of shock,
Like a horror-show, frozen in place.
The things I’ve seen, the things I done,
See the terror in my eyes,
Nothing compared to what I lived,
But that feeling fades immediately,
Just another hurdle, just another thing,
Someone shoved me back into this life,
Found me wandering in the in-between,
Probably grandma, so sick of my games.
B troops the kids in, a line of three,
She and the eldest up against the wall,
Keeping their distance,
But E stalks back and forth,
Eyeing me, eyeing the room,
Says “wassup, Daddy,”
Matter-of-factly,
Pacing like a caged lion,
Looking for something to eat.
“aren’t these guys worth you sticking around?”
was all she said, and I said yes,
and whisper my apologies,
not sure if they even heard,
but yes, they are worth me sticking around.
All the rest, the car getting repossessed,
money disappearing in garnishments,
Double-jeopardy, they took too much,
Whatever and ever and amen,
Doesn’t mean a flippn thing.
They are worth being here for,
Despite whatever it is we go through,
Not sure where this road will lead,
Stop measuring myself by someone else’s standards,
Living begins here and now,
Not tomorrow, not yesterday,
Not in the shadows or the in-between.

charged G.B.H.

Charged G.B.H.--
not the band but the criminal act,
charges filed waiting to hear back,
just gotta wait and see,
whose lies the prosecutor believes,
seems like there's always something,
just wanna live my life in peace,
just seems like a pipe dream.
Tired of all the drama,
is it me or is it my babies' mama,
one or both are to blame,
on the verge of going insane,
walking around under a black cloud,
somethings gotta give,
somethings gotta change,
ran our race need to walk away.
There is no us hasn't been for five years,
so why am I still hanging around here,
grew up not knowing my folks,
until I was five or so,
never felt apart of anything,
never wanted that for my kids,
never even wanted kids,
but she changed my mind.
I try to do for them all I can,
but at what point will it end,
like riding a board with two bad wheels,
the other half just not helping out,
takes all I have not to scream and shout,
turning into my father,
who I never loved,
who never loved anything not even himself.
Just a little bit of help,
a show of respect,
nothing is as it was,
everything seems wrecked,
but maybe if I make the first step,
maybe this thing can be salvaged just yet,
nothing else I can do about the rest,
if it doesn't work out maybe I'll head out west.
Life seems so open and full of promise,
back when you're eighteen,
your head filled with silly dreams,
twenty years later and you're still nowhere,
what were all those things you wanted,
that you thought were within reach,
where's your confidence now,
mr. mangadezi please take a bow.
So what are you going to do,
keep getting by,
continue living the lie,
is that what you want your children to do,
twenty years from now,
when little Nan turns thirty-two,
will she be going through the motions,
just like your wife, just like you?

my favorite line

Between the rail and the half-wall,
Over at the front where Campbell does axle-stalls,
Lined up and made sure its all clear,
Nu-skoolers doing pop outs and rail-slides,
Standing around the bench smoking extra-wides.
Two quick pushes and down the bank,
Knees loose so they sank,
Hit the flat and straightened out,
Sucking in momentum and up again,
This is how it goes how it begins.
Grazed the top of the pyramid,
Thirty-eight year old man acting like a kid,
Carefree and glad to just be,
Fast roll back onto the flat onto the hip,
Shoot onto flat into the corner just below the lip.
When the speed’s right when all is good,
Hit that corner almost horizontal as I should,
The magic doesn’t always work,
But when and if you gotta go with the flow,
Who knows where it comes or where it goes.
Back down the wall and over to the next,
Still can’t carve through both corners yet,
So I pick the one on the right,
I go so high that I almost fall,
Almost came tumbling off the wall.
Still need to hit both corners instead of one,
But I promise that I will before season’s done,
Backside carve for this goofy-footer,
Throw up my feet and let it go,
If you don’t try then you’ll never know.

hate'n and skate'n

Waiting on a check in the mail,
So sick of waiting just want to bail,
Don’t much care but everyone on my tail,
Waiting for my ship to come in,
Waiting and waiting for whatever,
Wish this financial shizz would get better.
Took all I could and jetted out the door,
Told them I’d be back in an hour or more,
Jumped into the car with five-on-the-floor,
Autumn chill but a nice sunny day,
Just needed to escape even for a few,
Freeze time enough to do what I need to do.
Must have been college day at the park,
Jocks with boards out on a lark,
None of the locals say what the fark,
Silly ass shiite but whatever man,
Just stay outta my way there dobie,
No don’t talk to me cuz I’m not your homie.
Thems some nice threads that you’re wearing,
Real nice of your moms but ain’t that overbearing,
Dude just did a kickturn oh that’s so daring,
Ok/alright guess I’m done hating,
All the twenty-somethings cluttering my space,
Got time on their hands that they wanna waste.
My wheels were so thirsty for concrete,
Slurping it up as they glide under my feet,
All the wannabees need to take a seat,
Homie can’t carve unless you got speed,
Take out your paper and pens and take notes,
There I go again knocking the college dolts.
Carve pump carve bank to tranny,
Up and down the hubbas feels uncanny,
Going too fast almost did a manny,
Slow back down and back to earth,
Almost got some sense knocked into me,
Flying too fast too loose drunk with vanity.
So I just rode until I was out of breath,
Carved kicked and pumped had nothing left,
Still much more to go still haven’t passed the test,
Finally did what I set out to do,
Went and forgot about everyone else,
Just shut up and worked on my self.