| (no subject) |
[Jun. 11th, 2009|01:55 pm] |
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So, it appears no more Warren Iraq . sad sad day. |
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| For the lost |
[Jun. 5th, 2009|01:01 pm] |
Romero got married on the fifth of July
In our Lady of Immaculate Dawn
Could have got married in the revival man's tent
But there ain't no reviving what's gone
Slipped like a shadow from the family he made
In a little white house by the woods
Dropped the kids at the mission, with a rose for the virgin
She knew he was gone for good
It's a long way to Heaven, it's closer to Harrisburg
And that's still a long way from the place where we are
And if evil exists its a pair of train tracks
And the devil is a railroad car
Could have stayed somewhere but the train tracks kept going
And it seems like they always left soon
and the wolves that he ran with they moaned low and painful
sang sad misereres to the moon
Rose at the altar withered and wilted
Romero sank into a dream
He didn't make Heaven, he didn't make Harrisburg
He died in a hole in between
Some say that man is the root of all evil
Others say God's a drunkard for pain
Me I believe that the Garden of Eden
Was burned to make way for a train |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 4th, 2009|07:45 pm] |
Down shadowed paths walks the old man
Clutching tightly at the bottle, glass shrouded by a bag
torn soggy paper, holds lost dreams, hopes and thought
years passed he was successful
held everything, world in the palm of his hand
as his bottle drained away, so did his world
sips eke out, as spittle down the corner of lips
hold your junky head high, loll from side to side
enjoy the disturbed looks you receive, bear your scars proudly
black ooze drizzles from tracks of ones making
don:t let it make you feel special, everyone gest this prize fro playing
each time you throw something away, replace it with more pain
love is like a fine red wine
the first sip is always the best, and the more you drink , the better it gets
but wait till you wake up, and feel only an emptiness
I:m ready to die.... |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 2nd, 2009|11:04 pm] |
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grape leaves a rollin, blood in the mucus, sick as hell, fucked over by friends. Great to be in Ocean Springs |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 1st, 2009|03:24 pm] |
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back livin in the fair land of os, cooking and drinkin. I hope not to go to jail |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 26th, 2008|09:07 am] |
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got some dirnking to do when i get off work. Family dinners, not for me, just me and the whiskey, and the bottles are 10,000 strong. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 17th, 2008|08:08 pm] |
I took a trip to deep dark cave , made of my creation
It was a cave of hopes and dreams, a cave of imagination
Three friends came along to this cave of wonder, my heart, my brain, and soul
As well as these i brought two strangers, strangers young and old
I brought my brain my brain for rational thought, to keep me from slipping away
If I lost sight of my hidden goal, I knew I'd never escape
He thinks for me , both bad and good, holds my map in stead
It is a brain of twists and turns, this brain hidden in my head
Next I tell of a stranger, young in life and years
He is a stranger to the feeling of love, providing me water through tears
Never ceasing to wonder, of the things that could have been
Confusion runs rampant with this one, he is a mouse while others are men
The third in my party, and carrying the torch, is the one known as my soul
Clear as the finest crystal, yet cracked, brittle and old
bearing the torch and lighting the path, it transforms water to wine
Tis the miracle of miracles, yet sadly only in my minds eye
An old stranger goes fourth, hobbles the path, crochety toothless and grey
A stranger, to pleasure, a stranger to dreams, stranger to all save pain
Heart second to last, beating in tune, to the steps of the other five
So full of breaks from failures, its a wonder its still alive
Cut open from pain, punctured by sorrow, ripped in every concievable way
Still it beats on, pumps blood through the veins, waiting and hoping in vain
I myself travel last, yet leading the pack, to the tune of a drunken sailor
I call it sport, all fun and games, in a suit made by the blind tailor
Deeper and deeper into the cave, we travel as our torch flickers out
As the last light of hope fades from my eyes, I scurry to write my dreams down |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 17th, 2008|08:07 pm] |
Is the sky Orange? Out of
the truck, you are fucked
up alex, Spinning at 999
billion frames per
milisecond, the world is
mine to command, to
control. We have reached
the top and i am now a god.
Who is the commander of
the world, who is the man
in the iron mask. Crab
claws dont work for me,
and i dont have any way
out of my eyes. Crawling
up and over, change
camera angle, and dillute
the rambling of my ears.
Why cant i get out of this
movie, quit rewinding me
and tell them that the grass
isnt on fire. None know my
name or why i am not alive,
how did i get in the van,
and what happened next,
where am i, and why did i
die in the walls. Opps, im
sorry, we are out of time
AHHHH
I wanna ride again |
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| Iron born Chaos |
[Nov. 17th, 2008|07:36 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | chair | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  tired | ] |
| [ | music |
| | something downstairs | ] |
Questions and answers both leading to nothing
False ideals , forced acts
nonsense, madness, humanitarian acts
pick and choose, reject and repeat
each glass numbs the pain just a bit more
How many nights and times like this?
I stopped counting when I stopped caring
Learn from your mistakes, or forget them entirely
Down a bottle for each fuck up
The slow action poison protects us
Build your immunity, a drop at a time
Drink to stay warm, rekindle the cold of the heart
The strongest of all poisons to taint ones being
Unadulterated truth
Looking at oneself can open doors into hell
The things we bury, our skeletons, lie dormant for a reason
Rememberance, though cathartic can cause a shattering of the psyche
that one will never be properly equipped to handle.
Dreams deffered, Questions not asked, aspirations never realized.
These are the stock and trade of the dead and the dying
The hand held above by all of us , and to rise above all this
clear the road ahead, keeping ones eyes on the prize
and eventually finding peace
Nothing more than a bedtime story told to children to help them sleep nights
A joke, a farce, a game like poker, but without ever even getting a high card.
Play the game, even if for nothing more than fun.
Play the game , a quest for nothing more than to lose
Grab the dice and toss them till you crap out
Points deep within, cleanser at the cost of self
Drink deeply your sorrow, smile as you finish the glass
Call for another round, another taste, piercing skin and spirit alike
Euphoria traded for life |
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| The subterraneans |
[Nov. 17th, 2008|06:29 pm] |
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And now you threw away a little womans love because you wanted another drink with a rowdy friend from another side of your insanity. |
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| Oubliette |
[Nov. 17th, 2008|06:18 pm] |
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Storming the gates of heaven and dropping ecstasy with the angels, we use whatever means to get by. When you open the door and wander into the other world for the first time, life begins anew. All that you thought you knew or understood washes away and the truth falls into sight, a sight beyond sight. Imagine that all that makes up the solid ground you walk upon every day simply caves way and leaves a vast cesspool of black matter, the primordial ooze that forms itself before your very eyes, continually tearing itself asunder and rebuilding, adjusting to your whims , fears, wants, desires. Drugs are not the only way to find the land of truth, the room behind the magic mirror. When you can truly accept that the world is of your own making, and things can be built and burned to please, than you can freely wander. It is a dangerous trek and always exists the possibility of being trapped. Locking yourself in a world of your creation is the ultimate oubliette. Blot out the sun and be trapped in darkness forever. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 15th, 2008|03:08 pm] |
Last night you had a few that led up to more, but oh well...
As it touched your lips, she was washed away
She didnt stay gone though, so you just drank more
After a few more, you can't feel her, but she appears in the haze
Gotta kill that thought too, so call for the wine
She of all people brings it to the table, pop the cork, sip away.
When that bottle is gone, just call for another, keep racing to beat the day
The more you drink and try to hide, the more you find .. only the taste
It only happens at night, like honey,but only slightly sweet
Taste of the past, taste of your loss, taste of her and the wine
One shot leads to three, than up to the room, clothes tossed away on the floor
May as well enjoy, even though you wont remember in the dawn
It doesnt matter anyway, the poison kills your lingering doubts
She looks to you pleadingly, and you know your pain will be gone
Legs wrapped tight, clenched, pulling you inside
Bodies sing in a chorus of consensual catharsis
The night rides on as she rides you, but it doesn't mean anything
You thirst for a drink, and she obliges, giving you something sweet
The taste is well known, same as the wine
When you can fight no more, unconciousness takes you away
The light kisses you softly, rising you back to the land of the living
She looks at you now, kisses lips with a smile
Who is this girl? Where do you lie? Do you even know her name?
Bodies coated in sweat, sticky , clinging, the smell of sex coats your bodies
It was certainly loveley, pure raw escape, a closed to hide in
But will it feel the same when the haze lifts away?
What about when all you have left is the taste?
The taste of her and the wine. |
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| Writer's Block: When the Boss is Away… |
[Nov. 12th, 2008|05:21 pm] |
Find interesting shit to cook, combine new ideas and techniques. I am limited in the product i have to work with , so it makes it fun. If I make something decent, i usually offer it to the staff. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 10th, 2008|06:26 pm] |
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Dogs fucked the pope, no fault of mine.. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 14th, 2008|08:15 pm] |
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goin to the shrink on thursday at 8 am, then i have to work a double, i cant wait |
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