Carnage in a lullaby
poem by JD Glasscock (Intro to my award winning short film Blade n Blood)
His first steps in the mud she carved worthless on his bones, on his soul, threaded scars spelling runes that whispered "Men are weak, men are nothing" Mother was the word she demanded, with respect, with careful bent knee reverence of tonality......then years expounded upon the skein, and her age came bruised upon her flesh and she dug her own grave in blood and bitterness and he wandered, lost, forsaken, even the agony she caressed his shriveled spirit with was something, better then nothing, ........lost......a dream broken and disused, then, the seductress, the femme fatale, her keen eyes seeing his torture, her skilled hands roaming his unfinished canvas, and she picked up the crown left in tombs of mothers and forged him, crafted his steps into horrors and twisted paths that brought her covetous jewels and wealth and the ending of threads, of looms of men that clawed her memories of a father's too intimate touch that was the mythos of her past......he was her blade, her rumination, her ruination, her veangence, her purge of too many groping hands on her nubile youth..........and they strode together like Gods, like giants in a meadow of sheep.........till the day the seventh thread of a seventh corpse found it's end by his grasping touch.....and in that moment, and in that stretch of sand trickling glass, she had reached too far, stretched the lie too much, and her life was broken upon a blade that cuts in both directions......and a revelation, an ennui of momentum and clarity writhed, inked within his tatts, within his history, and the birth of a demi divine icon of murder stepped forth, one goal, one road, balance and salvation, a killer of killers, all things must find truth.......and the shadows have never found more midnight within their folds....
West Texas (New song)
In the lonely wind of a West Texas drawl
You remember the night you lost it all
When the coyotes sang in the wee hours of dusk
And she walked away, broken heart, broken trust
And the tumbleweeds lament
It started on days watching oil rigs bobbing up and down
Shit kicking and drinking
Moving time around
And then she came
And nothing was ever the same
Good ole Odessa
Where cowboys and truckers still roam
Good ole Odessa
The dust bowl I hang my hat and call home (Chorus)
Good ole Odessa,
Beautiful beautiful Odessa
She was new in town
Her long legs, sultry steps and bounds
Sin two stepping eyes
Curves that told no lies
Soft goodbyes
Made you drown
Had a certain sound
Goes something like this
(Guitar solo)
(Repeat Chorus)
We met on the tilt of a moon
In the Silver Light Saloon
With whiskeys neat and too much heat
Ending in hips and breasts and sweat soaked sheets
And her lips were a prayer to the sky
Dreams drifting between her thighs
Love, a ballad on the back of a dragonfly
Stumbling to the Dawn
Moments drifted to breath
We were as inseparable as death
As weeks hitchhiked down the road
A flower that blooms in a story untold
We were aragami in spherical folds..
She told me her soul was a promise
And I put it in a pocket
Like some forgettable locket
And my memory still weeps
I still smell her scent in sleep
She was new in town
Her long legs, sultry steps and bounds
Sin two stepping eyes
Curves that told no lies
Soft goodbyes
Made you drown
Had a certain sound
Goes something like this
(Guitar solo)
(Repeat Chorus)
It began with small slips
Taken for granted hits
a kiss not returned
a slow burn
Words I love you said
nothing back but going to bed
I could say it started in childhood days
loving embraces not my Momma's ways
and I know there are those out there who understand
be what may
bruises on bones that never fade
but history doesn't make a person stay
and off she went, a yesterday
a yesterday, a yesterday
(Full band instrumental)
In the lonely wind of a West Texas drawl
You remember the night you lost it all
When the coyotes sang in the wee hours of dusk
And she walked away, broken heart, broken trust
And the tumbleweeds lament
It started on days watching oil rigs bobbing up and down
Shit kicking and drinking
Moving time around
And then she came
And nothing was ever the same
(Repeat Chorus)
She told me her soul was a promise
And I put it in a pocket
Like some forgettable locket
And my memory still weeps
I still smell her scent in sleep
Counting sheep
Everybody has an off day
Death rounds hollow eyes
Contrition & compromise
Fleshly it’s advance
Stalwart it’s determination
A lonely boy beggars on a lonely street
In a lonely town on a lonely day
Lights from corner lamps flicker
Shadows on crumbling walls
While somewhere a woman
Cries for a child lost in dream,
In the inability to touch.
Concrete, man skulks in
Back alley streets tapping
Fingers on murals trying
To figure out the rhythm of life.
Old Ghetto Joe
Strums blues & croons about
The way it used to be….
Lines form & rustle in a rush to
Trade blood for food or for just
Enough money to needle their way
Through another day
While brokers, lawyers, politicians finger money
Till shades of green permeate skin while
Somewhere in a desert a soldier clasps
Hands to stomach stuffing entrails in
The hopes of prolonging a foregone conclusion
Sadness has a certain appeal when faced with joy
Somewhere a child breaks his toys
Parents watching as they fuck
Smoking joints through slips of lips
Tips of candles wavering flames for a celebration
Of religion while priests fondle young boys
Explaining to them the merits of celibacy
How right it is when faced with temptation
Motel rooms flash neon
Wanderers searching for the
Reality of God
While teenage girls rubbing swollen bellies
Wait for the next trick to pick
And TV’s keep losing the picture….
Perfection is as inevitable as death
Living Hard
Sometimes life seems so so hard
And the road were on so so long
So i sit by the wayside
And play on my broken down old guitar
I'm singing about things
Fingers dancing on strings
And goes a little something like this (Guitar solo)
We stare at the sun and want to run
from all our fears, just want to have fun
but the world aint having none
puts iron to our head and pulls the trigger of the gun
So we stand ourselves up, drink that whiskey from the cup
numb ourselves to the drudgery of this rut
and play rope a dope, do our best to trust our gut
Sometimes life seems so so hard
And the road were on so so long
So i sit by the wayside
And play on my broken down old guitar
I'm singing about things
Fingers dancing on strings
And goes a little something like this (Guitar solo)
Hope is a coin we flip to the moon
days slipping by, our graves coming too soon
and our bones rattle to the edge of dream
truths dying within the rotting of the tree
and all we wanna do is fly free
but the chains are too heavy on these bloody streets (Full band instrumental)
We stare at the sun and want to run
from all our fears, just want to have fun
but the world aint having none
puts iron to our head and pulls the trigger of the gun
So we stand ourselves up, drink that whiskey from the cup
numb ourselves to the drudgery of this rut
and play rope a dope, do our best to trust our gut
Sometimes life seems so so hard
And the road were on so so long
So i sit by the wayside
And play on my broken down old guitar
I'm singing about things
Fingers dancing on strings
And goes a little something like this (Guitar solo)
,
The end is still waiting
our friends our now dead
the night is now falling
and the tune is fading in my head
the tune is fading in my head
All has been said
all has been put to bed
There's a light on the hill..
Unjustly cremated in the paint of artifice
Adage of the wanderer......we sleep and we dream.....we breathe.......skin...rune scarred....etched with sin in symbology...as deep as wisdom in the bottle of tears triaged upon the broken road.....wings trailing within rain washed sculpture of mud.......and the radio hits keep piling their fluidity of marketing in back drop dime stores of shallow architecture...spelling script prophecized and unwieldy in it's diaphonous duplicity.....she licked the page turning the Nietche Plato Socrates emblem of turning wheels.......and we roll the roles penned to our own cremation as we finger paint the stick fables of our own untimley break falls.....we are shadows.....trailing puppets to the movement of a good promotional campaign
River Rat Blues
There’s some sailors on the water front
Who’ll show you some gold
There’s some girls in the whorehouse
With stories untold
But there’s a special place you have to go
It’s called by the name of the River Rat Show
There’s gamblers and bankers and lawyers around
There’s mayors, presidents and corporate hounds
‘Cause there’s rats in the river
Swimming against the stream
There’s rats in the river
And it’s all a fucking dream
You’ll see mysteries, fantasies and
Willful woeful stories
Sex shows, coke blows
And whipping, spanking frenzies
And this is a god damn ugly scene
But it is a dream of reality
It’s dirty and smelly and
Downright slutty
It’s crazed and mad
It’s a type of leprosy
‘Cause there’s rats in the river
Swimming against the stream
There’s rats in the river
And it’s all a fucking dream
There’s some sailors on the waterfront
Who’ll show you some gold
There’s some girls in the whorehouse
With stories untold
But there’s a special place
You have to go
It’s called by the name of the River Rat Show
Rats in the rivers
Rivers and the rats
There’s Skeletons in my Closet & Fruits on my Lips
Salty memories carve scars
Down cheeks
Caressing softly, gently
Lovingly
Eyes roving past broken concrete
Buildings condemned & crumbling
Flashbacks in past supplication
And as I walk these streets
In hard earned starvation
Thoughts flit across lids
Closed in half remembrance
And the story forms,
This is how it goes.
And as I turn the corner of dreams,
Salutations,
I see the old man I always see,
Rag starved skeletal frame,
Eyes glazed & powerful,
Gray strings of wise hair
His hand cleaving air,
Beckoning, urging
To follow
And I do follow like I always follow,
Night in, night out
Footsteps heavy like thunder
Unsure like a child’s fragile movement,
Passing through earthly ruins,
Churches fallen & forsaken,
Bodies frozen within passages of time,
The jagged teeth of alleys
Swallowing histories,
A procession of crows on rooftops
Waiting, sensing our arrival,
Swooping down behind us in
Acrobatic wingtip feather tucks,
Symbolistic runes in wispy sprays of wind
And he talks to me,
Mad ravings of futures circling
In on themselves,
Pasts that haven’t happened yet
And the old man flicks gestures to
Beliefs long dead,
Righteousness no longer viable,
Prescient insanity fortelling doom
In the sedated sparkle of eyes
Worn thin,
Moving, dragging aged body,
Filthy rags, bony frail legs,
Shuffling down roads less traveled,
Unadorned & atheistic,
Stopping to contemplate cemeteries
With ghosts dancing in soft silent segue,
Graveyards with crazed woolen laughter,
Oblivion in snapshots of black & white
My feet synchronized to his step,
Him moving like he’s forgotten the dance,
Fumbling, stumbling always to
The same destination,
To a door framed in lunacy’s cackle,
A door with a sign that says
“All morality ends here!”
And this is where the dreams gets
Really strange
This is where the old man turns to me, turns,
Head twisting, body immobile,
Like an owl, like somebody who doesn’t know
What a spine can & cannot do,
His gray strings darkening to
Raven feathered locks,
His glazed sedated eyes melting
To furnaced flames,
Frail body tightening to
Mused youthful flesh,
Wrinkles to unblemished skin
And there he stands before me,
Now hip cat cool,
His words a mixture of blues & jazz
Surreal soliloquies
Burning liquid
And this is what he says
“We are all bastards in a world of flesh
and Death knows your name!”
His gaze tears into me jack hammer proud,
Then flicks forward, his steel grip
Peeling back cackled door
And I
Stumble through
And now the lights are red, blood bright,
Illuminating shifty seedy salvo,
Shelter of lust
And that’s eyes glued to morphing mood,
Wall grinding wall,
Lewd leering clowns,
Flesh on flesh,
Corner floor funneling entanglement
Of limbs in salivating drooling
Mixtures of positions,
Moans & groans dribbling
Off fevered tongues
And with a little twist of head
Conflict confronts
With shaking sweating youths,
Eyes blazed,
Actors acting sweet rapture,
Injecting themselves with small silver streams
Of needles crawling across scabbed up vines of arms
While my tortured veins of sight covet closure,
Escape from drug dug yellow brick road,
Slow stopped by
Mad jazzed youth of furnace flames,
His feet flurry two stepping
To up tempo blues stroked by
Whiskey jigging brass blowers lacing
Shadows on chipped scuffed floor
And again my feet follow,
Blind man’s bluff,
Bleary eyed sleuth of slavehood,
Chips freeing poker grins,
Tripping toes laying deuces in
Cigar style stove of smoke,
Twisting through enmeshed undulating flesh,
Straddling & sliding past sorrowful
Eyes, ghosts with fingers flicking futures
Up inflated elbow crooks
And here he is again, circling me,
Hoarding me to dust deaf hall,
Liquid movement, calling card called
Pry wrenching jacked up maw,
Jaw unhinged in terror
Loosening
Tightened teeth
And now the sounds draw out, fade
To some other morning, waking dreams of ash
Burnt out fires in glory
And he hammers me,
Pounds fresh nails to
Skin scraped suffering,
Walls hooded to neck back flesh,
And then smiles, the kinda smile
You see in horrors, the kind
That creeps forward in inches,
Hits with a bricked fist
Then it happens, happening,
Bones popping & contorting,
Sagging flesh puppeting itself into
Shrunken frame,
All hallow eyes glowing
Winter white,
Soft sane shift of summer,
Limbs circling tiny spirals
Now toddler touched,
Child cherished
And he exhales whispered intonations
“Sir, I know the way, follow me,
we’ll find it together.”
Innocence floods fuel filling battered bruised tank,
Tiny feet clicking,
Wandering munchkin merry dance
And now I hear the flute flowing
Melodious song,
Shadows gone,
Pan pipe doorway fog
And we did arrive, I was there,
Wide eyes, clouds, blue strewn bright,
Warm waving sun,
Child of white winter sight holding
Trembling nerve needled hand, fragile fingers,
Shows me morning mists in infancy,
Deep sloping pastures tipping emerald green
Tickling soles & souls of feet
And we fumble, stumble in remembered steps,
Shape shifting through dreams on
A star dust wave,
Down, down,
Hills melting valleys into dirt destined paths
Where he leads me, leaderless,
Now falling knee cap smacking
Stone ring of tired tinder,
Rejuvination waiting in small flames
Licking triggers
And his finger pointing push tough tongue of fire to face
“We are at the birth of cages, choices, mazes,
and this is where your road begins”
And with this simple sifting truth
The child of mirrors & memories opens smooth palms
And holds out
The knowledge of fruit
WHAT?!
Lyrics by JD Glasscock Circa 1997
We move & slide and flurry our feet
we chuck & jive to the hit of the beat
and when we grind to the crack of the blow
we wiggle our asses and start the show
I said What?!
What did you say?
I said What?!
What did you say
I said What?
She wore a dress just for night
cut real short and wrapped up tight
walking the streets under the city of lights
made men drool and started fights
So there I was shooting some pool
when she walked in and took me to school
now i used to think i was pretty cool
but with a shake of her hips I play the fool
I said What?!
What did you say?
I said What?!
What did you say
I said What?
So now I go to bed dreaming of eyes
her sweet sweet hips singing lullabies
and when i drift off to sleep
her sad sad beauty makes me sleep
I said What?!
What did you say?
I said What?!
What did you say
I said What?
We move & slide and flurry our feet
we chuck & jive to the hit of the beat
and when we grind to the crack of the blow
we wiggle our asses and start the show
I said What?!
What did you say?
I said What?!
What did you say
I said What?
What did you say?
I said what, what, what, what ,what, what , what , what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Someone finally drenched the dry desert of my fallacy
Sometimes in the hip pockets of romance spinning pirrouettes along her meat succulent thighs I find myself high.....stimulated in the curvatures working themselves against my dancing tongue....attempting to form etherial words into palpable passion in the arc of mouth to womanly nectar...and as they spiral pelvic thrusting to the articulation of my thoughts...my hands roam landscapes hoping to esoterically draw runes in ancient script with the exploration of fingers within caves.......moist in the rubbing of wishes against dreams.....she thought she had it made.....moans dribbling prehistoric scriptures of paintings depicting erotica in the grunts of stories.... ..and the sweat of her heaving chest (Landscapes of lathering rhythms) immersed me in a river...my frame and limbs swimming deep throat swells to the planting of my heraldic staff....it's symbolization a rippling flag to the art of sculpture in the ephiphony of prophetic wanderings.....her womb was my tomb and my pillow.......rest and howling unrest both riding low against the straining muscles of my moving hips as grinding became the dervish I railed feverishly against the wet deep burgeoning of her eyes spiraling into ever increasing circular moons back lit to the playing of flesh.....we both prayed to last but in the tumble of night falling blanket to the early depths of filtering dawn ....we collapsed.....smiles stretching celestial bodies across the fabric of our ecclestial depletion......we would both be a memory on the morrow's tides....but this moment...this burning ember in the drifting of wishes purcolating within the orifice of destiny would etch itself within the bones of our drunkenly weaving cognizance....and in days broken into old age....we would both reminisce back to the sliver of sand in saturn sage ....in which we perpetuated the continuing weave of our forever dance at least one more turning of the wheel...some day it will be more..... some day it would be love....
Poem by JD Glasscock
She said my mind was an egg shell walk, a house of cards in a perpetual slow motion fall....i told her she's right, it's upon the edge of fragility where my paint brushes find the most canvas....where her silhouette in that low key lighting as she steps over the horizon provides the most inspiration, creates the Davinci of her fading soliloquy
Deep Grove Monday
Written 7/27/2019
Dark steps, twisted into breath, holding for dream...I am trying, crawling, to see.....lies make things cloudy, even when the sun's out......truth is a hard beast ....it bucks and slithers in hands.......the scars are old.....long in the tooth.....memories.....I still remember her hips.....easier to throw up anguish.....mud step misery to the local pub....
As i said, truth is a harsh (Sensored)......I dig mondays, slow, bluesy, got a certain slow bass beat rolling along it's spine...you can feel the heavy, the guts of it. I feel most comfortable there.....always been that way....child hood a weight i carried through broken cobbles.....wrong turns, upside down falls.....She said my name once, as a whisper in sheets....i still hear it sometimes....
Age comes upon us in slips between cracks...in years that seem like just moments.....it creaks and bends and breathes.....Yesterday was a drift game to tomorrow....and My Daddy was a long ago shadow tripping into nothing....I forgive him....
One night, under the luminess of a deep moon.....I hope to find my fate......see it come to fruition after a life and a road of scraped flesh and too many beat downs....too few smiles and too little belly laughs......she never truly said goodbye......think that bothers me still.....my momma luvs me...always been a boon that.......my head dips into the pages of books that are my signposts...my pillow i lay my head to gallow rest....that requires rope i think..........drift......future spun along the beat of the bass i mentioned earlier......on a monday.....yea....luv mondays...
Automate revolution
Now here’s a story
short & sweet
about a girl & a boy
of course they meet
It’s like slick thick oil
on a vinegar pond
like hot sex sugar
in the morning dawn
It’s like a rooster race
with a one eyed jack
it’s like a crack house condo
on the coasts of Iraq
Like dreams & sand
shaking the land
creeping in my eyes
like a rocking band
like a rocking band
I’m losing my mind mind
I’m tasting her sweat
I’m springing like a candle
in the deepest night wet
‘Cause we are the Tin Soldiers
Automates in the revolution
Corporation
Annihilation
we are the Tin Soldiers
Automates in the revolution
Corporation
Annihilation
Now the story’s done
like a sunset dream
and the corporate swine
are squealing for green
Cause we are the Tin Soldiers
Automates in the revolution
Corporation
Annihilation
we are the Tin Soldiers
Automates in the revolution
Corporation
Annihilation
So here's the story
from me to you
in a corporate world
where romance is...
where romance is...
where romance is...
No longer true....
Cause we are the Tin Soldiers
Automates in the revolution
Corporation
Annihilation
we are the Tin Soldiers
Automates in the revolution
Corporation
Annihilation
What revolution
what revolution
what revolution
we're still looking for the answers
to evolution
To Sail the Seas of Broken Dreams(Poem)
There does it’s mast blow
In the broken seas of shattered dreams
Where all things seem
A probability of impossibility
Where love drowns like a drunken sailor
Back washed in the storm of the sun’s shade
Where all things made come undone
Where a little girl in the back
Of candlelit rooms
Huddles in the shadows of remorse,
Bruised and abused
In the memories of floating debris
Contemplative in the waiting of things that will never be
Where prayers crest and break
Upon the bars of cages buckling but never bending
Where groping hands of daddies
Rip innocence from the tender hearts
Of molestation’s grime
Where husbands in drug dug daze
Beat submission with meated hands
Possession tattooed in a skin once smooth
Where even sacred maternal chains
Shuffle love like a chess piece in a game,
Like the backbone of a promise
Thrown as garbage in alleys
Where rats knaw the blood of sacrificial bliss
Where even a true kiss means nothing
Where all things lost become more so
Where even the sharpened sword of true love’s bite
Cannot carve away the years
Where fear grips like an iron beast
Jagged teeth sunk to sorrowful soul
Where even the lure of another’s
Pain licked eyes can not go
Can not compromise the eroding of time
Where the storm of broken hope blows
Where the letting go of breath
Waits for that which she will never find
Except maybe in the smile
Of Death’s hollow promise
Shades of ghosts stealing away the day
Amidst a circle of flames
Where a man kneels weeping
For all that was lost
Blade of lowly means shattered in broken seas
Where a gleam in his eye holds the love of a dream
Morpheus
This isn't your dream
your caged in your own nightmare
this isn't your dream
your caged in your own nightmare
Morpheus is walking on your soul
crumbling statues littering the road
Morpheus is walking on your soul
crumbling statues littering the road
You see what you want to see
golden bricks & mazelike dreams
little kids & sandbox greed
broken dolls & girls to kiss
bloody lips & lucid trips
moonlit thighs & tricks to lick
Morpheus, Morpheus
Morpheus, Morpheus
You see what you want to see
golden bricks & mazelike dreams
little kids & sandbox greed
broken dolls & girls to kiss
bloody lips & lucid trips
moonlit thighs & tricks to lick
This isn't your dream
your caged in your own nightmare
this isn't your dream
your caged in your own nightmare
Morpheus is walking on your soul
crumbling statues littering the road
Morpheus is walking on your soul
crumbling statues littering the road
You see what you want to see
golden bricks & mazelike dreams
little kids & sandbox greed
broken dolls & girls to kiss
bloody lips & lucid trips
moonlit thighs & tricks to lick
Morpheus, Morpheus
Morpheus, Morpheus
Let our breath leave our souls
the king of dreams show the road
lead us from this nightmare's toll
lead us from this nightmare's toll
lead us from this nightmare's toll
A Lollipop Garden
I got soul burn broken blues
I got a skirt in the peripheral of my crap shoot
and she, she, she.....
I got soul burn broken blues
I got a skirt in the peripheral of my crap shoot
and she, she, she.....
Hit the video
That's where the truth is
that's where the truth is
that's where it can be found
in this curvy shaking ground
That's where the truth is
that's where the truth is
that's where it can be found
in this curvy shaking ground
A lollipop garden in the sun
A lollipop garden in the sun
A lollipop garden in the sun
A lollipop garden in the sun
She's looking like a girl in a dress so fine
walking the lines in a garden of time
rolling her eyes like a web caught in the moon....
in the falling starlight
falling starlight
starlight....
hit the video
A lollipop garden in the sun
A lollipop garden in the sun
A lollipop garden in the sun
A lollipop garden in the sun
That's where the truth is
that's where the truth is
that's where it can be found
in this curvy shaking ground
That's where the truth is
that's where the truth is
that's where it can be found
in this curvy shaking ground
I got soul burn broken blues
I got a skirt in the peripheral of my crap shoot
and she, she, she.....
I got soul burn broken blues
I got a skirt in the peripheral of my crap shoot
and she, she, she.....
A girl flit flutters while I sputter obscenities checking my pockets for gold
My suicidal dives cross lines within a passage of time and yet still I walk , still I talk, still I breathe and it does seem a trifle slow, blow to blow, where is the golden joke I was promised, the eternal road to laughter
. I met a girl , she seems so nice, so still, but she tosses my frills like it's all a bout a game, name, I think friends was the word she used, but now abuse, I think that fits it better, storing away stolen tongues, drifting dreams for escape, how hate is such an easier thing then love.
I mean doesn’t she see how when our eyes meet it makes our hearts beat, our knees shake, and our feet how they slide so smooth, like the way we shoot pool, so cool. I mean we take out people like were mowing the lawn, taking out the trash, like the next hit is the next to last, and we roll and we roll and we roll till we say thanks to the next victim taking a stroll, but you see that's where I run the toll, my body stacking up coins like I got a free pass past death, like I'm sticking my tongue out and waving my hands, like saying "hey death come on over here and take me to your lands, I'm burned out on dream's dreary sands."
I mean I got liquor flying down my gullet like it's the a-train, Like I’m on the next merry go round called insane, numbing the pain, cigarettes filling my lungs like it's the next rung, like it's the universal drug of compromise, yet still there she is again, those liquid eyes saying friends, friends, friends, till my thick skull hits the dead end, but then here we are trying to twist and bend, glide, cause this ain’t the ride I bought a ticket for.
I mean doesn’t she see how when our eyes meet it makes our hearts beat, our knees shake, and our feet, how they slide so smooth, like the way we shoot pool, so cool but I know, I know, I know, I'm the master of flunking school time rules, where all she does is flitter and flutter while I sputter obscenities checking my pockets for gold, for the next road to take me on out of here, cause I need a cigarette and one more beer, please!!
Poem JD Glasscock
I am strong,I am weak.....I have an ego that sometimes balloons to ridiculous heights...I have insecurities that are overwhelming....I have more talent then most, a sign of dead end recurves back to nowhere, with no heart behind it, means little...sometimes my heart is a cadaverous thing, secrets that won't share....other times, riven with passion as bright and burning as distant suns, sins......I can shine with more fury then anything in the room,a dim candle in shade, other times, bulldoze my way through sensitivities in callous recremination.....I am alien to those around me...the wyrd they hope goes away.......the same look for coattails to catch a lift......I am no-one, someone, anyone.......unique......I am the stranger strange as strange becomes.....I am alone....I worship truth, some say,a liar`s paradise....I am resolute in pursuit of creation and success...I often stumble over my own feet.....I am a grave with little memory or remembrance...I am legend that will never die.....I am delusional....I am overwhelming to most if not all.....I would lay life to protect another...I am a coward in wolves carcus......I have so much fear, fear is my everything, my burgeoning nothing....the integration of impetus to completion.....tool I caress to intimidate lovers into never being so.....celibacy is a cause,a justification to rebel.....to explain away my deficiencies...she never opened her legs......I am dream in a sleepers sleep.....I am the breath that never exhaled....I am dichotomy.......I am a poet in a back alley scrumming for change and a meaning to my frailties......I am humanity, ever devouring life......my tomb is a rune etched to tomorrows.....today is yesterday........her eyes are the womb I never found my way out of.....we are fragile, faulted creatures....glass thrown from dizzying drops.....shattered into a thousand shards of reflections......love me.....I'm in the back of the garden, near the reptile
Smoke rings are dreams
I blow smoke rings around life, exist in the Haze it creates... Hold poverty like a Linus blanket.... Suck my thumb and dream about could bes.... Would of beens.... And count the tick off second hands spelling the terms to falling....I once..... Yesterday..... Do I matter..... The shroud of midnight does a slow Calypso to the ever ever of broken toys. .. My eyes are half lidded and thinking of you... I'm sorry..... Sleep is the one place safety seems assured... Egg shells strewn across sand swirling in a Kaleidoscope of idioms..... My lips echo beauty to the ending of small things.... The door is cracked and the light frail and wavering...a candle gutters in a strong breeze...... Simmetry is left to those with more money then I.... The Haze is slowly drifting apart... The blanket forming holes, eye slits to bones.... Tombs are back drops to ghost stories told in the wee hours of doubt......I crawl through the left overs of the hungry.... Someone save the young..... They are broken on the wheel of progress.... Heavy pockets of old men counting green.... My breathing has slowed... The moon has spoken love..I listen and hope....
