Monday, October 13, 2014


I can speak in platitudes of the sincerity of life and death. Both hold special meaning to me. Have you ever been to the brink? When you are so numb, all you hear is imaginary crickets, and all thought processes cease? And in those few moments you don't exist. Perhaps that's what death is like. Nothingness. What a depressing thought. What if this is the only life we get? What if all our faith is merely rice paper that could be destroyed by a gentle rain. What if God is a fairy tale designed to keep our morals at bay? What if ravenous storms that destroys everything in their path are merely random acts of mercy. If that storm devours me while I sleep, may the secrets I gave you, you secretly keep...

Just another day

I sit watching the hawks soar through the violent, October breezes; across the thinly painted trees. Thinking of everything and nothing as I wait on a mundane bench. I hear the mechanics with their air wrenches as slowly my tire is replaced. I notice everyone, and can almost tell what their lives are like from a mere glance. My mind never sleeps or rests or slows. Madness is where I'm most comfortable. It is a chaotic, gentle place. Sometimes I don't think I'll even make it through the day. Sometimes I get so lost, I'm not sure if I left or if I stayed. Complaining about what I don't have doesn't change a thing. All I know at this point, is this is just another day...

Tuesday, October 07, 2014

The Rain

Will things ever get better?, he says in a rhetorical tone. No, whispers the perpetual bad guy from a dead cell phone. Is there anyway we can rebuild this broken, burned down bridge? No, replies the same voice as he grabs a cold beer from the fridge... Pop another pill and forget it, as my life slides down the drain...  You are going to get wet when you're too stupid to come in from the rain... You hate me, fine. I hate you too. You want me out? What am I to do? I guess I'll rot in this open grave. I suppose I'm getting exactly what I gave... So as I listen to The Midnight Special play with the background of an impending storm, I recall my father, for which I still mourn. I'm slowly starting to see that this bad guy isn't real. He's just part of this bubbling cauldron of emotion that appears whenever I feel. He tells me to tell lies. He threatens me by fear. I think I'll shoot him tonight, as soon as I finish this beer.

Wednesday, October 01, 2014

Autumn Night

October 1st. The musty aroma of dead leaves fills the cool night air. The passing of time seems like a blur as the fast moving clouds hide the bright crescent moon. Autumn is finally upon us, and yet nothing has changed. Just another season passing by like a distant relative you see on holidays. Sleep eludes me as insomnia holds me hostage in its chaotic embrace. Morning will come all too soon, rudely shaking me from some pointless dream. And October will soon turn to November, and winter will suddenly appear. I will no longer be able to sit outside and watch the night go by. I will shiver in the cold, longing for the gentle touch of spring. And so my night goes, alone with my thoughts. It's getting late so I will wander around until I can sleep. Goodnight crescent moon. Goodnight autumn sky. I'll see you again within a blink of an eye....

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Little pills

We are all too eager to place the little pills on our shaking tongues.
Academic idiots force their good intentions, as they lay in bed with corrupt chemical pushers.
Our tvs are inundated with ads for the latest, greatest snake oils that promise our meaningless little lives a few moments of relief. Side effects may include losing your soul.
When did we all become so sick? When did not paying attention in school become a disease?
Take the blue ones to calm you. Take the white ones to kill your pain. Take the orange ones to wake you up, and focus your aim. Take the pink ones to feel great. Take the green ones even though they're fake. And as we choke down our placebos, washing them down with false hopes of healthier lives, in the end, everyone still dies...

Sunday, September 14, 2014


I see the small flashes of the last remaining fireflies in the dark September sky. A couple of stragglers, unaware that even in the warm night, that summer is drawing to an end. Apparently they had not received the memo the rest of their brothers had. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one aimlessly flying around, clueless to the enviable change. Goodnight lost little fireflies. Goodnight kindred spirits of the warm September night...

Tuesday, September 02, 2014


The hot wind blows through the asphalt parking lot like a massive hair dryer. I wipe the sweat out of my eyes to adjust the vents, as the AC struggles to cool the van. It's 4:32 pm on a Wednesday afternoon. My mundane day has almost reached its end. Even with the AC blowing in my face, I can't escape the horrible heat. I breathe in the wet, heavy air with a slight despondent sigh. Summer... That magical time of year when in my youth, I escaped school for three glorious months of leisure. Now summer is just an uncomfortable time that I pray passes soon into the loving, less humid arms of autumn. Soon I will be bitching about the cold and my outrageous heating bill. The only time of year that my incessant complaining is at a minimum, is the brief fall. Something about the cooler weather and falling leaves puts my soul at ease. As I excessively sweat and struggle for breath, I look forward to the painted trees and the chilly mornings. So to my inconvenient friend, I look forward to your exit, as soon I will welcome my new friend, called the fall.

Friday, August 15, 2014


Sleep deprivation slowly consumes me on this warm, August day...
Exhaustion takes over my mind, shutting down all non essential systems...
Flickers of my subconscious play out like debating versions of irony on an animated screen. What's real anymore? The only thing I know for certain is that my pain is real. I know I'm still alive because I can feel the sun on my face. I can feel my tired heart. Distorted media images can always be dismissed. What can you really believe anymore? Conspiracy whispers into my eager ears, and yet in this condition, I still am confused. I'd love to be the optimist, as some think I can be, but is that me? Is that reality? I suppose I am jaded beyond my years, and that's no real surprise... Just an old man on my porch screaming at the phantom kids to get off my imaginary lawn... Wake me when it's over...

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Rising Fawn, GA, United States
I am student of life, poet, writer, musician, and a part-time philosopher. I have four daughters, a son in college, and two small dogs...