the line between homeowner and homelessness is pretty fucking thin.
a date is set and all the boxes are packed.
will we enter the front doors of our first house
or pack our belongings into a garage and wait it out.
irregular
everything is irregular and fucked.
answers coming, I just have to wait.
calloused feet walking on paths.
toes wrapped around stone and grass.
stoney high
and I’ll gaze into the horizon but not see towers and development
but nature as intended.
i’m sick of being human.
no new posts for a while.
but I’m still here. I’m moving and such so time for blogging has been minimal. I’ll get right on that
and here I am. sitting in this chair reliving yesterday.
laying in that emergency room bed
poked and prodded, breathing forced oxygen through my nose.
they didn’t find anything, thank whatever.
but chest pains at 26 years old is like a wake up call.
so yeah, things need to change.
Oh say can you see, by the dawn’s early light
the choices we make whether wrong, whether right
WILL alter the course of history.
Even as I stand in this spot stumbling through these word
men with money are wielding weapons sharper than any samurai sword.
Weapons forged by corporate hands and passed down then approved because complacent masses place more importance on who’s going to be the next “American Idol” then silly issues like :
* Hands severed at the wrist so rich women can wear diamonds on their hands
* Iraqi civilians disfigured from shrapnel blasts
* Poor despondent mothers trying desperately to feed their kids
* Working class families who give all they have but still cannot afford decent health care.
and the list could continue, it could go on and on for pages and pages listing catagorically every offence our nation’s committed without leaving out atrocities we COULD have prevented if only “We the People” would
Stand the Fuck up
Wake the Fuck up
Get the Fuck out
and affect change for once instead of twiddling our collective thumbs.
You see,
the seeds of dissent are planted and waiting for gardeners with raised fists to gently pour water into the soil. They are begging to blossom and bloom in revolutions unlike we’ve seen before. Revolutions that rock this planet and tear apart the foundations that have seperated it’s inhabitants for far too long. Revolutions where weapons are melted down and forged into metal beams, Metal beams that are used to erect new schools where children will learn peace instead of violence, tolerance instead of bigotry, grace and mercy instead of vengeance.
these things…these things ARE possible.
I know it.
I know that one person, one voice on a mission can take a mind that is firmly planted and flip it around on it’s axis until the light of TRUTH floods in like a tsunami raging knowledge that cannot be ignored. Raging Knowledge that tranforms lifeless humans into Gods who control the destiny of the world they have dominion over. Raging, merciless, unrelenting knowledge. Knowledge like a key that belongs to a door. On the other side of the door sits the powers that be waiting for one brave voice to slam through and break their political games. To toss over the tables and drive them out. To burn their flags. To take the power from their hands and put it back where it belongs…
In YOUR hands, in OUR hands, hands that build their fortunes and empires. Hands that fought their fucking wars. Hardened, calloused, work worn hands that deserve so much more, more, more, more.
but these hands, my hands, our hands, your hands will not see it until action is taken.
The fruition of change will not be born from the politicians we put in office. Rich oil men offering lies in exchange for power. Left and Right are nothing more than top and bottom of one sinister coin. Heads or tails, the outcome is always the same :
Money, Corruption, Power, Death
Money, Corruption, Power, Death
Money
Corruption
Power
Death.
You see, what so proudly we held at the twilights last gleaming
left blood on our hands and children still screaming.
Oh say can you see by the dawn’s early light
the choices we make whether wrong…but probably right…
WILL alter the course of history.
I’m staking my claim.
I’m laying it down nice and plain so that all you detractors and naysayers can read it and weep like the immature bottle fed babies that you are.
THIS…this is MY House.
No it is not the place that I reside or where I lay my kids to sleep or where I kiss my wife at night but still.
My house.
So walk your walk and jabber your jaws. Fill out your lists and cross off your chores. Make sure to report every single wrong deed
but remember while you’re standing tall with erect fingers jabbing orders to your lessers who despise the way you vomit disgusts at them that you will never, NEVER, never have their respect.
They’ll never call you friend.
They’ll never have your arms around them in their times of sorrow.
They’ll never look you in the eyes with trust filled tears, flowing freely like the bottle of whiskey they use to mask their fears of YOU.
because this isn’t your house,
it’s MY house.
and I keep it clean, I manage it well, I love it like Dorothy loves Kansas.
Like ears love music.
Like Christians love Jesus
Like words love paper and voices love speaking THAT is how much I love my house
I’d invite you in but I see you’ve already made yourself at home.
I thought I would put up a few of my older writings :
White and Unimpressive
Semicircles.
Unique swirls of self much like white flakes dancing down onto extended plains blanketing January with ivory.
Forfeiting the uniqueness of self with it’s intriqusies and abnormalities only to coalesce with crowd…
White and Unimpressive
And so it is, as my unique patterns of round caucasian skin secrete oils onto this writing devise of inexpensive design, I realize my place in this universe. Plunging Headfirst into the masses of McSatisfied carbon based lifeforms seeking fulfillment, individuality, success, the great golden fucking mansion in the sky…it is then that my plot in life, my holy grail, my enlightenment comes.
I’m just a man.
Coalescing with the crowd.
White and Unimpressive.
untitled
and so it seems the seams are so unraveling.
as hours pass to days and days to nights and nights to tomorrows to fucking oblivion.
clumps of mangled hair clenched between twitching fingers and shaking hands, joined to weary arms of an unkept frame who’s mantle contains a brain, heavy with frustration and longing for sleep (or sleep longing for me)
i don’t even really know anymore.
4 beats per measure accurately measure each jovial sheep leaping hurdles in thought bubbles above this mattress and pillow an blanket and bed.
Reweave the cords and tie the loose ends. As sun sets, stars point fingers as if to say “gotcha again chris”
Sometimes I really fucking hate stars.
So how many seconds until the beeping, ringing alarms clock screaming, migraine beeming, coffee steeping, family sleeping, breakfast muching, time clock punching BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH…
for now thoughts will keep my time as i continue
unravaling
unravaling
unravaling.
A Day I’ll Never Forget (although I’d love to)
I watched a baby die today.
Laying on the pavement, draped in white cloth.
Daddy was sprawled out next to her, brother gasping to breathe.
I watched a mother cry today.
The apples of her eye taken away.
Police gathered around, tape to mark the scene.
I watched myself break down today.
My children playing in the other room.
I wrapped my arms around both of them.
Listening to them breathe.
I was bullied as a child
no big surprise, many people were/are.
however all the compassion in the world was lost today when I saw a little boy run up and punch my child in the back of the head.
I wanted to destroy.
I wanted to knock the little bastard to the ground and watch him cry.
crushing little children
that should be my new tagline.
I know kids will be kids but when kids bully my kid the kid in me comes out to play with white knuckle fists bundled tightly.
A pseudo smile and “come along now” to mask my anger (no kidding)
sleep
come quickly
come sporadicly when I force thee from thy bottle
into the throat
like the proverbial shot of sweet dreams
I’ll see you
4 a.m.
4 a.m I greet you with rubbed iris sleep drained eyes.
blah blah blah I hate snow blah blah blah.