Tuesday, November 29, 2016

One Path Left to Go Early Version




One Path Left to Go (2015)

All my Life I have tumbled in the wind
All my life I have walked the path of sin
The storms of summer come and the blizzards finally go
But my own fate I'll never know

Read it in the papers that they're planning for a war
Extraordinary weapons that I've always abhorred
Will lay a lonely child to waste
His momentary pain will then pass away

The leaders of this nation in their manicured place
Claim I've done awful deeds of horrible disgrace
As they launch their bombs unto the towns
The parasites inside make people drown

They'll tear out their insides in a horrible display
Of chemical perfection made in a lab far away
With money that you and I have earned
We pay to see these children burn

People are freezing and starving in the street
We waste our lives toiling for corporate greed
United we can take a stand
Money'd devils won't give us commands

Another time, another place, the world might be ok
But not tomorrow, not today, while we all drown in pain
The wealthy have bought out all our souls
And we're chained down, just one path left to go



Saturday, November 26, 2016

Rain Falls


Rain Falls (2016)

Rain falls on a lonely Saturday
Calm grace adorns the air
Streets hum so gallantly
Life moves without a care

A creature sits in solitude
Above the traffic's trance
He's weeping and he's destitute
No partner for his dance

Those walking down below the beast
Never catch a glimpse
Of how this creature spends his days
A shunned and broken imp

So rain will fall until its dry
The creature weeps alone
Proud birds then will sweep the sky
The creature knows he's home


Monday, November 14, 2016

Cadence of Winter


Cadence of Winter

We strive and thrive all round year long
And never seem to quite belong
Until the season of deep frost
Reminds to us we're never lost

All of the work and all of the play -
The calm routines of passing days
Stay unfinished, stay remote
'Til Wintertime steals sunlight's hope

Forget all joys, forget all sorrows
Winter's cold Zero dictates our new tomorrows
A finite stroke to a fitting end
If frozen death is your dear friend

If, cold death you do not trust
Do not worry, hope's not lost
Hope's not lost, if yet you live
For Death itself must melt, then give


Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Dungeon of Despair


Dungeon of Despair (2016)

They threw the key out with no known remorse
And so time spun 'round its long fateful course
I did nothing wrong but they did not see
The dungeon of despair softly swallowing me

First it was springtime, all was bright new
Then summer came, skies crystalline blue
When winter turned over I was unaware
Of being thrown in a dungeon so bare

I trembled and wept at their sinister tones
The ghosts of the past never left me alone
I waited and pondered and shook like a hare
I, the keeper, of my own dark despair

It is unknown if I will survive
There are no real walls, only deep leering eyes
Ghosts of the past and deep tortured pain
My mind is the dungeon; I struggle in vain



Sunday, November 6, 2016

A Faded Memory




A Faded Memory (2016)


When all of life is lived, it becomes a faded memory
What was its purpose and who was it for?
Why do some claw hard and scream out for more?

Being alive is a delicate time
A few steps awry cease yours, maybe mine
Some words and feelings are good gallant things
What will your spirit sing when it leaves?

A temple of one, whose construction has faded
In old age dies youth, but the spirit is not jaded

There is a ghost deep inside there somewhere
And one day it flows to not here nor out there




Thursday, November 3, 2016

The Urban Cannibal



The Urban Cannibal (2016)

William Humphrey scurried away from the refuse pile with a decayed bone between his teeth. He was a hungry man, but it was not traditional dining that he was seeking. He needed to eat a young boy's hand to fulfill the current month's consumption requirements, which were written out with marker on the flap of an old cardboard box. The chicken bone in his mouth was merely a deterrent, a slight distraction away from his impending psychosis.

The local elementary school was an option for fresh meat, but how would William Humphrey acquire such a delicacy? Disguising himself as a janitor and drugging a kid into submission at the end of the school day was an option. However this would inevitably cause a scene, and even if it did not, the parents would surely discover that their child was missing. William had no immediate solution. Days dragged on and the chicken bones he constantly devoured to stay mildly sane never got any better. Reality was but a thin veil. William wondered why the poultry consumption did not quell his cravings. Must the target to be devoured be sentient and intelligent? Why was farm animal meat not enough?

William did not have a job. He survived on disability checks after the state declared him mentally unfit to work. This occurred when his employer reported him to a health facility because he could not stay on any kind of schedule. William would come into work during completely random hours, and his employer decided enough was enough when he showed up at four in the morning and began to pound on the front door of the office building.  An experienced cannibal, he had never once been caught practicing the art. It was common reality, the routine of daily life, that he lacked the skills for. The days seemed to fall out of order during his most ravenous cravings for flesh. Before William knew it, an entire month had passed and his July prerogative was then void. The cravings persisted stronger than ever. Each night inside his tiny cluttered apartment he fell asleep sweating and trembling.

In August William began to question himself, his identity, and whether or not he was even truly alive. He was on a court order to take medication for psychosis, but he did not adhere to it. It made him dumb and slow, he reasoned. He also concluded that the only way to live life was through natural means. Foreign substances and drugs in the body  made life unnatural, and so he abstained from taking such things even though he was self-aware of his own downward spiral.

On a warm September night William stumbled into the back of a hospice parking lot. He had given up on finding young flesh and decided to find an old corpse to chew on. Delusion and dissociation plagued his mind, for William himself was completely unaware of how he ended up at the hospice in the first place. During a small moment of lucidity he deemed to himself that it was fate and then continued on his delusional prowl.

And then a chance! Two workers were carrying a large bundle wrapped in plastic through the back door. William waited near the loading dock and then pounced on the one in front with uncontrolled rage. The second man seemed shaken and moved in to attempt to restrain him. William, however, would have none of it, and knocked the man unconscious with a swing of his right fist. The first man, deeply struck by the moment's panic, ran towards the front door while screaming for security. This gave William a moment to examine the large bundle, which he assumed was a dead body.

Inside were dozens of aluminum cans and plastic bottles. He glanced up in fear and saw Alvin's Recycling Company written on the side of the truck.

"Help me!" William screamed.

"You had a bad dream, William," said the psychiatric nurse suddenly by his side. The plastic-wrapped bundle, the unconscious man, the hospice dock, and the truck were nowhere to be found. Blindingly white fluorescence surrounded William. Moments later he discovered that his arms were immobilized and bound in a straight-jacket.

The nurse gave William Humphrey a psychotropic injection and he went into another deep, calm sleep in his assigned bed.