I’m Not a Victim

I’m not a victim, unless it’s what I choose to be.
Tear out my eyes, so I can no longer see.
Sew up my heart, it’s broken and the pain is real.
But, I’m not a victim, unless I choose to feel.

I’m not a victim, unless my thoughts keep saying so.
Silence them with laughter, seeds that soon will grow.
Replace the tears of sadness with those made of joy.
Cause, I’m not a victim unless I’m just a part of their ploy.

I’m not a victim, unless society wants to say I am.
Media mind control makes sure you watch your nightly program.
Tries to convince you of what is right and what is not.
Yet, I’m not their victim cause I can’t be bought.

They can play their games, try to control your thoughts,
Leave you wondering whose calling the shots.
Remember, my friend, you’re not a victim , unless you choose to be.
Push them away, don’t let them see, you’re not their nominee.
You’re not their victim, unless you choose to be.

Take control, don’t forget.
Don’t be anyone’s marionette.


July 1973

Flashes here,
Now there.
It’s behind you.
Hot and sweaty,
But I have to find where you went.
Holding on tightly to your home.
If I drop it,
All will End.
Shattered on the ground.
Like dreams out of reach
On a far off summer night.
We’re only realizing it doesn’t matter.
Our lives will end soon.
Though holes are punched in the lid,
The air’s too stale to breathe.
Chase the flashing.
Before it’s too late.

Unable to Connect

Don’t know what to do anymore. All I do is stay in one room and listen to music and watch tv. I don’t socialize with anyone because I don’t have anything to say to them. I talk to my daughter but she’s busy, so I don’t say much. I refuse to talk to my brother, he just wants to debate everything I say. So, I stopped talking to him completely, not one word. My doc thinks he has Aspergers, so he should be happy. He doesn’t do anything but sit at the kitchen table on his computer all day, watching cartoons or writing sci-fi. Whatever. I’ve given up. I’m either gonna drink myself to death, die from boredom, or say the wrong thing to the wrong person and be killed. Well, hallelujah, bring it on! I’ve already fulfilled all my promises in this crappy life and if the rest of the world wants to run around crazy then so can I.

Life Sucks

I’m very unhappy, feeling evil. My thoughts are not well at all. I want to lie on the roadway of life and be run down, don’t deserve nor want to live another day at all. Resentment is one of the worst feelings a person can feel towards another. It’s usually ego based. An injured ego needs to find another to blame, which isn’t difficult to do, and then resentment easily builds. Yet, I find it to be like acid, eating away at the walls of my heart. Burning it’s way into my soul until I feel like an empty carcass, sun bleached and dried. I remember lessons from AA about writing down our resentments and revisiting them as to how we could address them better. Most of the time I realized my resentments were trivial. Someone pointed out to me that the resentment wasn’t trivial but I had changed. I no longer viewed it as being so important, I no longer cared. What they didn’t realize about me was, yes I had changed and it was no longer important, but that I had stopped caring because I had given up the fight. I was tired of fighting. I was surrounded by slobs and I was tired of trying to dig out a small niche of cleanliness. Now, I was sick and tired and just didn’t care anymore. Drive over me with a duckboat, I am sick of fighting for my sanity. NO ONE CARES! Life will continue, with or without you. Clean or in a big mess, who cares, only you. What a big stupid illusion life is.


Am I going to find a home when I turn the corner?

Am I going to find a family when I open the door?

My flaws are still present, are part of my personality,

ingrained in my make up but not an abnormality.

What’s normal, anyways? We make this up everyday.

I’m perfect, you’re not, is that how it should be?

Should we all wear a  label and then we’d agree?

This reality called life needs some rearranging, maybe we’d see

it’s our thoughts that really need changing.

Like a mythological monster, a story from the past,

carried too far the memory becomes recast.

To one that is far worse, legends become dark and diverse,

Yet, began a story, remember, a tale of yore. Now men teach it to children

in times of war.

Where’s my home when I turn the corner?

It’s gone with all the rhetoric.

It’s gone with the vitriol.

My family is divided, a civil war in the making.

Leave, if you may, alone I will be overtaking!

Past was filled with memories of battles fought exclusively.

Now they can be done foolishly or brutally!

You decide, since it’s your game to play.

Forewarned, my friend, you’ve now become my prey.


I don’t feel too bad today. It’s a good day to count my blessings, good expressing that all might not be well but what the Hell, it really doesn’t matter, it’s life or death that’ll grab you yeah…hot one, feel the sweat upon your face but a breeze’s still blowing and I’m left knowing what matters anyways. This time this place, here and now, cataclysmic entity, the up and down. Alcohol’s flowing while the world still spins, for all I know, we’re still friends till the end. Ice and mind melting in the heat of the day but your kind word unleashes and we all fly away. We all are one, time never stops, infinite limitless, deeper than the moral’s of Aesop. I’ll be seeing you, my friend, more times than not. On this hotter than hot summer day of THOUGHT.

The Burdens we Must Share

I carry the same baggage that my children must in turn bear. Nothing in life, from birth to death is fair. I understand now the pain they shed but hearing it is something I mostly dred. I caused them pain, inexplicably, but not maliciously. Tell that to a child…even when they’re grown. I understand cause it was done to me. Pass down the sin through the generation, when will it stop? When will it be forgotten? I can hate myself for all it’s worth, doesn’t change a thing. Drink myself to an early grave, nothing makes the pain go away. Generational baggage carried through the ages, tear away at my memories, the time still rages.
Restitution, apologies, grave-side analogies we’re still one in the same it was always just a game and we were just insane. One day you’ll awaken, as I did and your eyes will see the truth of life as it lies naked before you. Nothing is as it appears before YOU, only the memory you perceive to be, the importance you perceive to be, all other will no longer perceive to be. I am just a memory that you perceive to be evil, or nice, deceptive or helpful. I fill whatever void you need filled and nothing more. It can be sad to realize this or it can be no emotion at all. Like reading a good book that doesn’t end the way you want it to, it can still be a good book, no?