Done

Done

In

In from the light

The land of milk and honey

All set


Insomnia

Crippled with black wings

Dirge drummers

Haunting my ears


Ripped from the dream

Thrown into the black

So much pain

So little time


Was time wasted

Or was it just me?

Pudding proof

Time will tell


Death among the living

Grinning smiles in the haze
I ache at their sight

The righteous


So amusing how commentary continues

Can't see the end for the trees

You have to be schooled

A master of denial

- Friday, October 13, 2006

Terror

In the space
between the seconds
the terror builds

we see emptiness
in each other's eyes
yet we move slower
and get fatter

slowly like a wheel
taking on weight
the terror builds

bloodless chatter
underneath it all
cannot stop the noise
from within

in the black
sleepless cocoon
the terror builds

broken for the last
we seek shelter
under broken roofs
knee deep in the lies.

fist

leave me by the roadside
the mess

sheltered from
no storm

the leering
mob
full of distain
distrust
disgust

she has left us
checked out
burned
alive

tell me something
how many will
you collect
along the way

the broken path
between
life
death
pawns

pillory embers
scent the way
to the tomb
back
inside
the episode

black mark against
the good name
branded on their brow
i've seen you before
forked tongue
faceless grin
gutless maw

yup, i do know a little somtin'
i might not know it all here
but one thing i do know
is bullshit

scorched

i have no preconceived notions.
no expectations.
no more nothing.
do what you like in the sandbox.
come.
go.
fuck. off.
what ever floats your boat, gets you off, blows your hair back. knock your socks off.

i am the reborn.
the justified.
the jousted jilted.
no silt in my path.
i am in the eye of the judged at all times.

War

I cannot be seen
nothing new
blinded
and clear of beauty

I am not sorry
to take
my leave of you
cold absence

Drought rivers
carved in stone
down my cheeks
barren

Burned
I am truly done
giving rites
and passages

I am leaving
vacant to the lost
rejoined to the
cult of the unloving

My eyes are torn
soul a cinder
blood dusted
a husk cast aside

You weren't sorry
not even for a second
naked in the heat
laughing at my heart

In the Beginning the End Can’t be Seen

Wrote this in 2005. I wish the War was over there. Bring the gang back home.


In the Beginning the End Can’t be Seen

Undecided undivided we stand
Up to our swollen knees in the blood of others
Can you see the lies written in the mire?
Told to stay to be fed and now we beg
 
Damaged beyond all sight it cannot be stopped
In too deep it has no turns except for the worst
Down the path with the devils we seek the truth
Kept in the dark now for all their right
 
Pulpit sweat stained martyrs can be seen on every channel
Left to drown in their homes we fill with tears in our own
Fat lazy and drunk with sound dulled beyond invasion
Sandblasted tanned hides in the white sun
 
Indivisible invincible
Indescribable
Invisible incredible
Inhospitable
 
How soon before it ends
Parched and running the last mile
It stings our headless minds
Smoke covered tombs will all that will be left
 
On the hills of the dead we can see the pyres of the damned
Chained and broken a dream flutters in the breeze
It was good while it lasted
Now the master will be taught a new lesson in poor

Peace

I can see again
with new
vision
and clear beauty

I'm sorry
to have kept you
all waiting
holding secrets

Rivers of time
have etched the lies
along banks of deceit
poisoned water

I am done
paying for what I thought
was right
and who was wrong

I am leaving it all
for the locusts
the imps
and the eyes

My guns are gone
my sword sheathed
my armor scrapped
parapets abandoned

I am sorry for it all
I walk out of the desert
naked upon green grass
Into your heart

6.26.07

I didn't feel pain until it was gone.

6.24.07

many times before
have i been here
have i walked on by
waiting for you
to stand by my side

burned beyond all
reborn to the pure
set back on the path
backyard secrets
out in step

i have waited for you
to taste the breeze
in the years to come
from so long ago
never forgotten

forests of time
spirits in the wind
down from the sky
my eyes burn
ive only ever glanced you

my hands are home
on yours
with your eyes i am seen
for the first time
in the last walk

naked steps on the beach
rippled spray keeps the pace
pink skies dip the world beyond
as we journey in the sea
laughing at the waves break

Home

As much as I feel like a transplanted fish out of water some days here - I'm glad I'm home in Worcester after a long weekend away. My ol' stompin' grounds ain't what they used to be and neither am I. I have carved out my own piece of ground here in the dirty Northeast and kind of dig it. My back finally feels like it's against something and I may even feel some roots for now.

I have to add that no one builds a better sanctuary than my folks. I was transported back to long summer days on my folks old patio during this weekend at their newly constructed "outdoor room." Quiet serene suburbia is only way to describe. Even airplanes miles overhead where silent.

Road worn and weary

I have been shaking cobwebs and beer tabs out of my brain lately drudging up tales of duct tape, dropping pedals and cleaning Skittles out of air conditioning vents. Back in the good ol' 90's my bro Boogie and I got to rub elbows and bend some with the best of 'em. Been missing the days of smelling venues before they open and even when the last call beacons erupt the room with white light. Nothing says a good show than "fucked up club smell." If only they made an air freshner!

Missing: Long days starting and stopping days in the van. Sweet band riders - nuthin' tastes better than dinner on the club! Meeting the cool kidz at the merch tables. Keeping one cash pocket for the venue and one for the band. Throwing the 2nd gas tank switch on the long rides. Sleeping on couches provided by friends on the road. Having a Ramone stage dive off of my back. Trashing only one hotel room to the tunes of ZOOM and Retaliation!

It's so funny how people tell me how responsible I am nowadays. Back then it was all about blowing off work to not get paid helping out friends and working at a show. Fuck i quit a job to work on a Fanzine full time!

Pic for Revolver Sept. 2007 PAGE 54!!!

More to come...