Skip to main content

09













09



Skipping rocks/
And missing clocks/
As the hands of time inch and flop/
Around towards a trip we thought/
We all knew we were taking, drifting off/
Towards bigger proj-/
Ects, starting as little tots/
And graduating as the beginning aughts/
Faded into shimmering prom-/
Ises and distant plots/
To live alot/
A decade later, were limping, caught/
In a simple prob-/
Lem we learned to dismiss and talk/
About like it didnt exist at all/
Inner mon-/
Ologues are sick and cough-/
Ing on these/
Honest/
Innocent goals we had, drinks mixed and foll-/
Owed by pills and rot-/
Ten cheap liquor/
We figured/
Would take the edge and rip it off/
We live in naus-/
Eous, presposterous/
Conditions that softened/
Our will to solve/
The hidden costs/
Of risking com-/
Mon hopes for a ballsy/
Dream it would take all of our skills to wrought/
Where the fuck is the realest shot/
This idealist fought/
For his steely spot/
With passion, so the world would mirror the pot/
Stirring in his head, cheer the moss/
Growing/
As he slowly/
Realizes hes been here to watch/
His own life unfold/
And become old/
With grim despond-/
Ent tears to mop/
Up, his soul killed and lost/
Fuck that, I'll pick the lock/
To the chains that cripple all/
Of us, pissing off/
My simple harm/
I see the biggest, tall-/
Est portion of success, I will it, want/
To have it, not just to nibble on/
But to live and saunt-/
Er around screaming, "Fuck you", I'm still the Don/
Of my own life, a killer calm/
Because he lifted all/
Of his burdens and sent them lilting off/
Down the river called/
Life, propelled by the winds of change/
His indignant rage/
Was fulfilled and paid/
During those wistful days/
Where we would sit and talk/
About our biggest, strong-/
Est dreams, not bills and jobs/
Do you feel the spark/
That may course in-/
Side you, its grave's warming/
Cause it lays dormant/
As charades swarm you/
Because of the world's disdain for it/
Reclaim doors that/
Were locked away before this/
Opportunity was granted and age poured in/
To persuade orphaned/
Outcasts banished/
From their passions/
To understand this/
Grab it/
And finally change focus/
From play, stories/
And creating roaring/
Testaments/
To their definite/
Perfection in/
Their crafts to days courting/
Hours and weeks/
Depowering free/
Passionate speech/
With hazardous leech-/
Es with numbers like 8, 40/
And 65/
If we arrive/
At the end with a glimmer live/
In our misty eyes/
We'll be mystified/
As we sift and find/
That our shimmer lies/
In the realest light/
Clip the ties/
And gripping tight/
The hilt of my/
Sword, with the side/
Of the hill in sight/
Lips can lie/
But the truth is/
Conducive/
To the riddles plight/
So be ruthless/
And choose this/
Movement/
Exist to fight/
And we'll escape into the living night/

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Shameless IG Plug

https://www.instagram.com/p/BjCacWplX6FygVNS5qOdcWnQRGLOPC3DlvI18o0/

We exist in a world where it seems every skill, talent or gift, no matter how esoteric or seemingly inapplicable, can, through the bittersweet, pyrrhic blessing of social media, be monetized, commodified and capitalized upon. I harbor no unrealistic goals, because realism has become hyperreal. I live a simple life, one that appears to have placed me at odds with the world's status quo. Good, fuck them. Take happiness where you can grasp and steal it, whether it's by drinking overpowering, ironically cheap beer with great friends, screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs for the shock value, or doing feats of strength on public benches. In my case, everything is words and handstands. The rest is irrelevant. Forever flawed. Forever rebellious.

Six And Four

Six And Four


Today marks 6 years since I began my enlistment, and coincidentally, had I not extended, I would be free today.

As a younger man, when the home and world I knew were unmolested by the ravages of change and the life I left behind was still relatively intact, if you had offered me a path out of the military, I would've seized it feverishly and greedily, determined to free myself from what I perceived as stifling bondage.

Now, staring down the barrel of 27, I fear gaining that complete autonomy back. I feel institutionalized in a backwards, ironic way, more like a convict on the precipice of parole than a Sailor a short time from mustering out of service.

I've gained skills and credentials that render me employable nearly anywhere, and have cultivated a healthy collection of contacts that span not only several states, but countries on either side of the world's oceans.

I've gained 40 pounds of muscle since I initially left home, and saved a large portion of …

Beacon Of Light In The Darkness

Beacon Of Light In The Darkness




For too long I've harbored the one-sided shadows of former relationships. Torturous, rapid bombardments of perceived slights and ridiculous thought crimes. I've stifled my own opinions on everything from politics to religion, the two classic hot button issues, paragons of ostracization and dogmatic pollution.

The ghosts of the past are insidious and seductive, causing me to view them through rose-colored glasses for a formerly indeterminate amount of time. Yet now, in the absence of that old, familiar love, the grip of nostalgic fantasy has been loosened as my naivete is strangled by harsh reality.

Gasping for breath, it attacks me with a battalion of its best memories, a company of incomparable moments, countless divisions of dreams rendered dead by inaction and hatred. In the end, we all die alone. In those final, fleeting hours, we'll be surrounded by a devoted, compassionate family if were lucky, holding and pumping our aching, callouse…