Saturday, December 5, 2009

Late night hysterics

I think that sometimes woman get so used to being young and hot and able to walk all over men and get whatever they want that when they lose the looks or waistline or just the power they don't exactly realize it and then people just find them annoying and bitchy.

It saddens me that there are some songs I hesitate to listen to because of what was happening in my life when I attached to them back then. I don't want those moods back.

I feel somewhat imprisoned by responsibility but I feel more happiness that I can provide what is needed to live for 4 people (for the most part) I just hope that things stay good.

Late night little boy giggles are the best thing in the world. Late night upstairs neighbor thumping is almost the opposite.

I feel very much out of touch with current social trends at the moment, but when I get the urge to try to learn them I immediately feel nauseous.

Sometimes I feel that work ethics are being compromised in the name of "customer service" and I also feel that all these changes are eating away at professionalism. If your wondering if I'm a fogey see above.

Is it coincidence that the people I find immature and lacking in certain qualities are also really fucking annoying.

Is it weird that the people at work I do consider my friends I don't entirely trust how honest they are being with me?

You like to say the word motherfucker, admit it.

When I dyed my hair black the other night the song Mother by Danzig popped into my head. Should I be worried?

Ok, that's it for now.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Wondering about the mind of a crazy woman

What does the world look like? How many enemies does she come across in a day? Does she fear many or just a select few? Does she have pictures in her head about the things she claims? Does she have more pictures of how she will triumph? Could she really kill? Does the world hold the same colors for her? Do people look like monsters? How big of a part of her is tainted by religious images? How big of a part of her is tainted with propaganda? How much of her is a victim in true reality? Did someone make her this way or was it just the chemicals in her brain piecing together wrongly? Will science ever really know or is this the one secret that God is able to keep?

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Yes, I'm a slacker

IN lieu of my new guilty pleasure song (if you don't already know I won't tell you) this will be about my favorite subject

He comes in, just like every tuesday. Cute in the way that a mutt is. Most woman would pass him by but for some reason my chest tightens. I get nervous and try not to stare. Counting the times he looks at me and wondering if it's more then last time. Wondering if he wonders. His hair is dirty and his eyes a simple brown but still my heart leaps as if suicidal when he glances. The looks are innocent enough, but maybe he's hiding too. I feel silly and young like in grade school. My maturity has no place in these moments. I don't fantasize when he leaves, I don't yearn for his grimy hands. When he is present though, I am fluttery inside. I sometimes wonder what I would say if he ever broached the subject. Would I have the presence of mind to refuse or would I be vague, play games with the small amount of power it lends? I wonder if this maelstrom spills into his psyche just a little, if my intoxication gives him some kind of contact high. Then strikes the self esteem, by the time he leaves my lust feels more like pleading. He leaves having been cordial, so of course devastation hangs around for a few minutes. Then it's over, and I don't even think about it until the following tuesday. Perhaps that is true maturity?

Monday, November 9, 2009

An appeal to science and black magic practitioners

It used to be that horror movies were an escape. True horrors to worry about it place of the day to day concerns that eat away at your sanity. Bills, medical issues, money problems, politics all take a back seat to the serial killer, the ghost, the zombie. The monster that the evil scientist created from spare parts was unthinkable and impossible but well worth fearing. The ancient being that had transcended time and reason to exact revenge or flex his power was creepy but could never actually rise again. Then they started making movies based on true stories of the most grisly mass murderers. The idea that this could be a possibility began the process of taking care when you go out and the more movies they made the more afraid people became of the everyday activities of life. Then came the ghost shows, paranormal researchers providing convincing evidence that there could actually maybe be ghosts. I know of 3 such shows, there are probably 25 more I do not know about. Then came the zombies, yes there is actually a way to turn a human into a zombie. No they don't eat brains or flesh but they "died" and then came back to life. That alone is scary. Ax murderers, mutilators, kidnappers, home invasion, snipers, government rebels bombing buildings. All have come to pass. Next came, cloning, zombies, cryogenic freezers, shooting at the moon. Ahhh!
So I say lets keep trying to cure disease and try to save the world but let's stop short at Alien Resurrection-style rooms full of Ripley alien mash up prototypes begging to die, let's stop short of bringing people back to life after years in a cryogenic freezer, let's stop short of figuring out how to rip a whole in space to make time travel easier.
To all you purveyors of black magic, let's just stay away from the Necronomicon stuff with summoning forth the creatures that exist between time and space. Let's not call forth beings that existed before existence and will exist long after existence. I need some things to still be afraid of, that I can also continue to think won't ever exist. Many of the horrors our parents never thought possible have now happened at least once. Fiction works written long ago that were too over the top to be believable have now actually happened. Please preserve these evils I have mentioned, do not expose us to any of these things or we will die, and if we don't we will have nothing to escape to any longer.

Saturday, October 24, 2009


Shortening time with nowhere to climb
how now I could fall so gracelessly
Plummeting down so close to the ground
the fear it attacks so baselessly
I'm feeling the wind pour on me again
and wondering just when the hit will come
The rope set to snap to take the heights back
and send me right back where I started from

Tuesday, October 20, 2009


We're doing it all wrong
Trying to make everything right
You can either play along
or take up your weapon and fight

Don't matter what you say
there will always be one
who's gonna scream nay
and then the battle's just begun

Some seem so blind to the world
they can't even see themselves
so angry words are hurled
from the glass house in which they dwell

I don't think anybody knows for sure
I don't think anybody knows what's pure

Sunday, October 18, 2009

This will be it(I must vent just this once)

I am sick of politics, I am sick of one side being full of people who don't seem to give a shit about anyone but themselves and whoever throws obscene amounts of money at them. I am Sick of the other party constantly saying look how evil they are and how much they suck. I'm also sick of people piling on the president who seems to be the only person in this situation right now that has any sense and respect. I want to be a good citizen and read and get all the info but unless I read it from 15 different sources and compare notes I'm fucked cause I only got 1/16th of the story. This fucking sucks people, it sucks so much that even the smart folks can't keep up with all this bullshit. Then there are all the people that have been so brainwashed by the fakest fuckin media ever that they are fighting their own interests!! We should not be in a country where a propaganda machine works this well. we should not be in a country where when people beg for help people yell back get a job. We shouldn't be in a country where people's contrived paranoia resembles The Holocaust in there minds. Are you fucking kidding me. Can't we just put a couple of them in a concentration camp and see if they think it's the same? They right looney's offered to get waterboarded why don't they start up a "fake" concentration camp to show them what it's really like. And all those whitey's whining that they are now oppressed, just like the black people were, under Obama? Give the black people their reparations in the form of plantations and white slaves and let them have just a week where they can treat the white folks like they were. Let's kick all the white kids out of the good schools and make them go to school in the bad neighborhoods. They have no fucking conceptions about what they are talking about. Give me a fuckin break people. You are disgusting and horrible people, YOU are the ones ruining the country with your need to be worse off then the people you wouldn't throw a penny too from your car window. You can't get a riding mower? They can't get shoes, food, medical care, shelter, protection from violent crime so FUCK YOU, I don't give a shit about your strife. Guess what people the giant fat hog that we have been living off of for so many years is dead, the scraps are gone, the bones are clean and the marrow has been sucked out. We are fucked. So now you want to blame someone and Obama seems like the guy for the job. Read just one article, just one. Do you really believe that Obama spent all that money just since he got here? Do you really think that he made the stock market crash somehow through his acorn connections just to make Bush look bad? Did he give the first bailout through Bush via mind control? I bet you Glenn Beck has proclaimed at least one of these theories (if not all) as truth. Stop getting your information from lunatics and assholes only. They are LIARS!!!!! LIARS!!!! Give me my motherfucking country back, get a heart, and stick your fucking teabag in someone else's face because there is proof out there that everyone of your crackpot theories is not only wrong but magnanimously idiotic. Also, those of you that want to tell people to drop Bush because that was the past? We will still be fixing his mistakes when my grandchildren's grandchildren have grandchildren so fuck you too.

paper & quill

Can't come to grips with this digital age
What's wrong with ink upon a page
I miss the fibers, I miss the bleeds
A heavy pen that will not impede
A hard wood desk so the sounds are loud
the sound of the scribble like a roaring crowd

The scratches and swoops, a cursive r
soothing the pain and smoothing the scar
and if you start again on a fresh page of white
the old page remains to remind, as is life.


We toil over words like we toil over clothes and hair and how we smell and if others will approve but words much like those other things really don't mean anything. Life makes sure of that. Think of all the "I wish you were dead" stories you've heard in your life. That wasn't what it meant when they said it, not really, but life made sure that the wish was granted nonetheless. Think of all the praise or compliments you get through the day that is dismantled in a back room out of earshot, or just the people you know hate you that always greet you warmly and gush about your look of the day. Then later you hear the truth from your coworker who had lunch with them. Words work for functionality and are pretty necessary for your day to day dealings but, when a tribal vocalist can bring you to tears with guttural sounds and a driving drum beat, it makes you realize that words really are only so important. Don't listen to the woman bitching at you, listen to the pain in her voice that punctuates the words and try to picture where it comes from. Next time you talk to a curmudgeonly senior citizen try to hear the wisdom in their voice. Next time someone spews hate try to see if you can tell if it's actual hate. It could be fear, it could be pain from one bad experience, or it could just be what their support system in life has always told them and maybe they just don't know yet what the truth really is.  More on words later...

Tuesday, July 21, 2009


I enjoy it, it frees me from the doldrums of normal life
it unlocks the cool part of me that I am generally to self conscious to show
when I sing I don't care how I look or what people think. Perhaps immediately after
but not during. I need to tap into that untethered part of singing where I can just 
sing along with anyone at anytime and have it make sense have it make feelings. I may
have to ditch the guitar and just go accapella until I have someone to play the guitar
for me. I should figure something out though, and soon.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

A tree falling in the forest...

a rumble, 
a crack,
the the giant falls,
slowly creaking
breaking the many barriers of time it has formed
revealing it's age and fatigue
now it will rest, now it will be at peace.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Fuck Commercialism

you may not peddle here
your wares are not welcome
you lies are not wanted
my mind does not have commercials
my words do not aim to sell
not for you or anyone else
so i hope that if you have come here to sell
your product, your ideas, your soul
that you leave with what you brought
as quickly as possible
this is my space
these are my expressions


a pile of eyes and ears and noses
some of lions some of roses
skin is stretched and shapeless
an entire menagerie 
in one big pile in a box
someday it will take shape
someday it will be a creation
a sight of wonder and skill
but for now, it's just paper

Monday, July 13, 2009

uh... whatever

Dreary moments of whys
saturate my eyes.....

Monday, July 6, 2009


Squeezing the meat of my arm
nails dig, knuckles cracking with strain
the flesh breaks, the blood runs
I wrench and squirm, 
but the hold is fast and tight
brutal and laden with pain
The grip has a safety
a comfort that cannot be denied
but it hurts more then it helps
it burns more then it soothes
it mocks me with a brutal contempt
I fight harder, loosen it's grasp
Finally the hold is lost
Finally I am free from all
Finally I am away from all,

Thursday, July 2, 2009

The Part

"Mother is dead!" she said strutting around. How melodramatic, rather then being heartfelt she seems to be proclaiming the evening news like a paperboy.  Now the fake tears, yes boo hoo my dear a real tear would be the only thing to convince me at this point. "It was horrible." She continues "You could see the suffering, you could feel her...wanting to die." The way she squeaked out the last part almost made me giggle. Even her "family" didn't seem impressed. "She is out of pain now." She lowered her head rigidly as if she weren't sure that was what she should be doing. I cringed. This was terrible. Did she expect anyone to believe this performance?

"Next!" I say to the diva in training. I've heard 40 woman today breaking the bad news and not one one has come close to bringing even a swoon of grief on my part.  Perhaps there will be no play. The next applicant arrives on stage. "I am Matthew Frenck." He postured to begin and I stopped him. "Wait a minute buddy. You don't look like a Doris to me." I said. He shrugged his shoulders and said "If you'd like I can change into my "Doris" outfit, but typically these things aren't dress rehearsals." I growled beneath my breath and said "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have your punk ass thrown back out on the street!" He swiveled his head toward me and said very matter of factly "Because I'm good." "Well go ahead then, but watch your fuckin' mouth newbie." He turned aghast and said "I am NOT a newbie." "Well I've never heard of you, so just start the damn scene will ya?"

He began the scene and you could see all the actors on the stage snap in line. He not only was convincing me to believe him, He was convincing them to believe him. By the end I was brimming with tears. "You were excellent. I would give you the part right now if you, ya know had a part." He groaned and said " Let me go put on my "Doris" costume and you can tell me then whether it makes a difference." He fled the stage hurriedly. Since I'd had no time to stop him I decided just to see what he came up with. I called up a few other candidates and sent them quickly on their way. No prospects but Matthew thus far. I was starting to wonder if his costume would be as good as his acting. 

I called next and the next girl came on stage. She was cute, fit and stylish so I let her go on. About 3 words in I realized that it was Matthew. He was good. It was then that I proposed a compromise. "Would you be willing to be billed as a woman?" He hissed out his breath and said " I thought I was the newbie, you know in the good old days men played woman's parts all the time." I nodded "I know but was that also the case in which the female lead was representing the playwright's  sister?" He seemed to slump for the first time since he walked onto the stage. "Please, I know that I can nail this part." I thought for a moment and said "Leave your number with my assistant, I'll do some more auditions and if I can't find anyone we'll call you." He skipped off the stage, certain that none matched his ability.

I called my sister that night and we talked about the play. she was very excited that my dream was finally coming true and everyone in the world would fall victim to my clever pen blah blah blah. She was very sweet but boy could she talk! When silence finally fell again I asked her about Victor Victoria. She seemed confused so I reminded her, it was the movie where Julie Andrews played a woman who pretended to be a man so that she could act in plays... as a woman. She giggled and said that she remembered the movie. "Well what if there were a man who could play the female lead better then any woman I'd seen so far?" I heard the receiver bang down and knew that this wasn't going to end well. 

I spent the whole next day auditioning woman. Eighty in total and by the end of the day I was tired and frustrated. I called my sister again that night and told her how the auditions were coming. She said that I should stick to it and the right person would come eventually. I broached the subject of Matthew again and she nearly hung up a second time. I asked if she would be willing to see him perform the part. She agreed. I told her to give me a couple days and I would call her. I called Matthew next. He was excited at the prospect of performing for her. I told him he should show up in costume and not to reveal himself until the end. It would help her to accept the only option. He said he would.

I called a couple of the girls back who were mediocre but better then the others. I would make it a competition. She would see who the best was. I worked with all 3 auditioners and they learned a whole scene with the rest of the cast. My sister showed up and sat next to me. My assistant called out the first candidate. They ran the whole scene and as I expected it was mediocre. Then the second came out and it was pretty much the same. Then came Matthew unbeknownst to my sister. He played the scene perfectly every nuance every emotion every step every hand movement dead on. They way he enhanced the rest of the cast was amazing. I knew this little experiment would be successful.

I asked my sister, trying desperately to hide my glee, which she thought was the best. "The second one." she said, still wiping the tears from her eyes. I grew quickly enraged "You are a liar! You know the third one was the best, I saw the tears fall from your eyes!" She made no expression as she again said "I liked the second one the best, sorry." I screamed "How dare you suffocate my dream with your foolish pride. You know that this play would become famous with Matthew as the lead. Yet you sit there patronizing me, no remorse, no apologies, just pride and fake sentiments." She got up from her seat and turned to leave. "I'm making Matthew the lead and that's final!" She walked out, never turning around and not saying a word.

The play opened with Matthew as the lead and it soared to unimaginable success. It sold out several time's over. A studio even purchased the rights to make it a movie starring A-list celebrities. My first and only play set me up for life, Matthew went on to be big in theater. He never wanted to be on screen, the stage was his home he would say. He always got me front row seats on the opening night to whatever play he was doing at the time. He would even send me birthday gifts and Christmas presents. He would have me over for Thanksgiving with him and his family. We were like family. In fact, he was the only family I had. 

You see that day my sister walked out of the theatre was the last time I ever saw her. She's been dead for 2 years now. Her husband recently came by and told me that she had seen the play, many times and loved it. Then he asked me for $5000. What he didn't know is that I had scouts hired very night to keep an eye out for her. They were equipped with pictures and ordered to call me if they even thought they saw her. I gave him the money and thanked him for his kind words, then I gave him $5000 more. They say you can't take it with you. I hope the same is true of grudges.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

The Hand

Once extended in friendship 
the hand is now fractured
swelling and throbbing, 
black with annoyances 
blue with the facade.

The next visit a bandage
that will become ratty and brown
further infecting the break
the crippled hand is my evidence
my reminder that nothing lasts forever

The splint a restriction
doing nothing for the pain
only holding the bone 
in a crooked place
so that healing is moot

My stunted hand is weak
it cannot carry
it cannot lift
it cannot even wave
it simply dangles lifeless

This puppet hand 
wanting to grasp 
wanting to hold
wanting to feel
but failing at all tasks

This dead weight
unable to let go
unable to throw it aside
unable to rid myself of it
so dead it shall hang.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Now that I'm here...

Crushed by nostalgia and days that have burned
wrinkled and ashy the lessons now learned
buckled by heat and soggy with rescue
smelling the embers could practically cleanse you

Innocence crumbles within my grasp
the newness and wonder I thought would last
but now muddy memories stick to my shoes
spreading apart and coating the clues

At my feet lie the answers of why for the past
occluded with splinters and rubble and glass
Heat that can shatter and flames that explode
all tools to decipher this dastardly code.

This is not personal!

I have many other places to write all my personal jibber-jabber, this space is meant purely for creative writing/fiction. I can be very schizophrenic with my styles is I actually manage to get this going. I may write about things I'm not fond of in a way that makes me seem that I am, I may write about things that I actually know little to nothing about. I may even write a story that seem like it is lifted from the pages of your life and laid bare for all to see. Believe me, this is not intentional no matter how it looks it's really not so if I say something that seems too personal it would be best not to take it that way cause it's probably not even about you.

Will it work?

Will approaching the task of writing a blog get me out of my creative slump? Will it lift me to new heights of genius and ribaldry? Will it give hope to the hopeless and send all evildoers and naysayers back to their hiding places? Will it make you laugh and cry and rethink your whole life as if seeing it through new eyes? Will it start conversations on the issues that  many fear to discuss therefore changing the world for the better and saving all mankind? Will it start a revolution? Will it start a war or will it start the journey to world peace?

probably not any of those things, but enjoy anyways.