Showing posts with label liquor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label liquor. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

A Statement Pleading for Serenity

Pulling my hair from root

Trying to find the root

Of my behaviors

Attention grabbing in their splendor

Trying to get some recognition

Of my existence

Trying to get an explanation

As to why

Trying to get a moment

Of your time

Trying to explain to myself

Why no one cares that I exist

Birthday’s come without a call

But wait…

Wasn’t it only I who helped you from your fall

Tradition decimated

Only hope left

Hope that which each passing day

Sings “Happy trails to you, goodbye my friend”

Their optimism sickens me

My trails have never been happy

My trails never will be happy

This line of life stretches into infinity

Infinite wisdom

Infinite pain

If life’s a bitch

Infinity is the Queen Bee

Whose poison I ingest

Like a sweet nectar of life

Tearing me apart

A puzzle never to be finished

Because I’m missing a piece

Of you, which I need to succeed

Giving me the motivation

To stay on track

To straighten up and fly right

The drive to get me from point “A” to the finish line

Even though I whine

Trying to peel your eyes from the screen

There is no need to do me like a two dollar hoe

On my way out the door

I want to be recognized as

The man in your life

The love your world centers around

The part of your heart that is not jaded and cold

Love me…

Please…

I’m begging you…

Love me…

Pay attention to me…

Please…

Please love me…

Friday, May 16, 2008

A Fly On The Wall

I feel the fire in the air

The fury and the fight

I smell the demon on his tounge

It lubricates the item, for which he’s bought and paid

I feel the caution in the company of the other; it’s obvious in his touch

In the alcoholic haze his reasoning has been withered

But even in inebriation he remembers what she did.

He remembers the hurt he felt

He remembers how after 12 years he found out; he fell in love with a whore.

He revels in the memory of the whore’s fist pounding at the door

He’s aggrieved as he bethinks the splashing of his tears on the cold cherry wood floor

In this moment the hurt he feels can only be mend by the touch of a stranger

Or so he thinks

As he begins to use what he’s bought, he feels his eyes begin to water

He knows this isn’t revenge, he knows this isn’t right

He pulls put

500 dollars walks out

And there he is on the floor, feeling discarded and used

Realizing sanity has slipped his grasp

Thinking of how the whore lay snug, and smug in bed.

The sweat from his pores pours cold

Erasing dreams of the two growing old

He listens to the lies the walls speak

The passion the sheets sing

The promises his heart wrote with his lips in front of 97 witnesses

It seems irrelevant as he watches the fire rise up the walls

The smoke fills his lungs and the fire loosed his soul

The whore watches as her last chance goes up in smoke

Knowing redemption has slipped from her grasp

Thursday, May 15, 2008

A4A

It occurs to me as I cruise this website and raise this tumbler to my lips that this just isn’t right. Not “right” in the since that I should have gone left, not that this answer is incorrect but rather that this just isn’t right.