Why are you such a jerk, brain? Why is this the time of day I suddenly feel most awake and alive? Seriously, I must question my sanity entirely when at 4:37am I am so over the not sleeping and all the thinking, questioning, analysing that I consider going out and about for a walk and dancing in the early Spring drizzle in the dead of the night. Actually that sounds like a really swell idea, but I can't be bothered getting...

Rising from the mist of memory are the recollections of those I have seen and known in both battle and the times in-between. With me still feeling the stings of some undone wars that still rage like a fire out of control. Making me feeling a bit unsteady and wanting to hold on, even after leaving that place that never felt like home to the one that did. And still there are those who through either ignorance or their idea(...

What you are looking at, is a message stating the little rant I have written here has foul language, not suited for anyone under 18. It is also not suited for anyone who finds explicit lyrics offending. I just wanted to give everyone fair warning......thank you.I am writing a list of things that make me grrrrr. It's turning in to a novel and raising my blood pressure. Here's the thing....I choose to let these things piss...

"Where are you?" "I'm here." "Where? I don't see you?" "Can you hear me?" "Yes." "Then how can you hear me if you don't see me?" "I'm confused." "Don't worry, I will lead you." "How?" "I have always led you." "Will you hurt me?" "Probably." "Will you ever let me down?" "Yes." "Why would you do that to me?" "It's what I do." "Then I don't want to follow you." "You must." "Why?" "Because you can't live without me." "Damn yo...

I wonder if you see me as you walk on by. Is there anything about me that seems to catch your eye? Or your ears, can you hear my tears? I have gone so many years, living with the same fears, I wish you were near. I wish you could see me really. But you are always too busy. I wonder if you think that about me. I am too busy to stop and see the glimmer in your eye. I am not too busy, but you often turn away, acting shy. So...

My precious gemMy beautiful girlHappy BirthdayI did not name you PearlPretty green eyesBeneath golden locksHappy Happy BirthdayI love how you never match your socksSeven is specialJust like you areHappy Birthday PrincessMy beautifully shiny star Nine more years until you drive a car! I don't care how old you think you are! Sorry, I went offI got a little crazyHappy Birthday LovelyIt's your day to be lazyRight. After schoo...

I swear! Buncha babies! It seems as you get older, the tendency to gossip in cliques and then "hate" on others, doesn't go away. I wonder if it is because I work alone, that I am the outsider. I think I've always been different, and that's why I work alone. Why would I care how you wear your hair? It's hot. Stay cool. It's a job. Safety first. I am supposed to look to you for guidance, yet you keep me in the dark and clai...

I have heard them say that the Devil’s in the details and I know exactly what they mean, and these are strange times we are currently living in and maybe it’s true what Lennon said about strange days having found us? With simulated sunsets and starlight dazzling my eyes and wondering for how long things will go this way, and have me feeling like I am walking through the wasteland with the ghost(s) in the machine(s), as I...

The sky sat in judgment on a cold spring morning. All the people could be seen staring out of their empty shells, shells that housed warm souls and harbored dark thoughts, translucent in the light of day but opaque at night. If there is one thing I have learned, it is that night masks the deeds of day. It erases evidence and lays false trails for madmen to wander. It creates stories from air and air from words, notes from...

Once again I find myself making my way down the line and this time I haven’t heard that old Highway 61 call, and knowing exactly where I have been and now have had most of my yesterdays tagged and filed away as I watch all roll by. And that Girl from The North Country Fair sits waiting while dreaming of fields of sunflowers bent over in the snow, as she knows that the time will soon arrive to have all start over again and...

CONFESSIONS OF A TROUBLED MIND This is no work of poetry, fiction – even though it might be argued that my thoughts are nothing but, - or even a happy hollow song that will get almost a billion views on YouTube. These few paragraphs I am about to write are nothing more, nothing less than my ideas, my thoughts and one might say, my feelings, freed from the chains of my oppressive numbness. I have no idea of where to start....

Sitting here upon a wooden chair, and seeing the filtered sunlight coming in as I sit with my back to the wall again. Looking up and seeing myself surrounded by both shelves and stacks of books, and feeling these tired eyes of mine renewed by this comforting sight here. It's like seeing all of my old friends gathered here with me in one room. And feeling that double dose of that silver bullet caffeine kicking in. As I loo...

My whole life feels as though I have been waiting for the right time, and I feel lost or know how to feel at times. And never being able to say those words right though I knew of what I spoke of. Yet most sat and laughed because I couldn’t speak right, but those that listened knew what was said, even if they had to read between the lines. Remembering when I asked her to stay with me, and heard all of them gathered around...

Wondering if all was seen when it could be, and were things done that were needed, or were there things falling from my heart? And at times feeling all of those lies that were told in the disguise as words of trust that were threatening to tear me apart, like those subtleties that were threatening to strangle me in the past? Was time wasted in the wandering through those smoking fires of memory, and was control lost in th...

The kids will be marching through the door soon to be off to fight in another war, and will have plenty of tales to tell in exchange for getting a hero’s farewell being given to them. And I wish they would discern what Lenin once said about patriotism being the last refuge of a scoundrel, as they walk in time to the tolling of the bells. Having me wonder if they truly know or realize that usually in most cases that heroes...