Sunset Reflections (and The Secrets of Burgundy Doom)

The weight of this morbid

                                 Obese-Fat-Failing

Silence

falls heavy between us, again

Falling,

like the screaming cinderblock doom

of your own bitter creation

Your own screwed up reality, sugar

Your own dark, whispered, spell

Trapped here in this furnace of futility

Trapped here in ragged mescaline rages

In the blood red dawning of inspired gloom

Waiting for something new to rise

Overwhelmed with the desire to wipe away

this banal fealty

Sickened by stagnation

Suffocating on sullen acquiescence

and

repressed remonstrance

Weary of holding together separate entanglements

Burnt on smoky nowheres

piled 20 years high

II. 

Moving away

(at warp speed)

from the consequences of sleazy endeavors

from my own lost- Mad- abandon

from my own sad, failing, want

Lost in a thousand soft eyes

And split skirt thighs

Baptized in Tanqueray and Tequila

Seeking absolution in absentia

                     in anonymous sex

in swinging neon nights when Music

is the only thing holding my battered soul

together

Loneliness never abated

                     never sated

                  never yielding

            never understood

No admiration

        adulation

inspiration nor hot belief

has ever pierced this wounded veil

No face sought nor conquered

resting long in this restless heart of stone

I see you rolling up-oblivion

Emanating in waves from the hot streets

I see you in palisades and soft parades

And the face of newborn love

I see you in the visual cliché

of hot blondes racing along in red Camaros

in the hard luck demeanor

of whiskey voiced waitresses

flirting for tips in florescent nightmares

in the slow, swaying, dance of time

III.

I see you in the lazy yawn of

flea bitten hounds guarding the gate

of domestic hope from the cool shade

of grand eternity

I see you in the eyes of soccer moms

Singing along with the radio

as Poison pulls them back to their

day-glo heyday-1987

I see you here, Now, in full effect

Waiting…

I see you in the silent sleepwalk of sacred suburbia

Lost in the celestial solace of Sangria

Cocktails and barbeques

Ice cream-Bourbon and Soul

Children stomping in muddy puddles

Cigarette ghosts behind every loose association

25 ft. from the door

Tied to the pride of the new side

The latest grope

The latest need

The greatest fuck

The longest bleed

Willful to have it all

sewed up and displayed

and far faster than seeking

Identity.

Winter!

  Hey, kids! I thought that title might grab some attention. 

  I'm not going to write about how hot it is. You all know how bloody hot it is. Instead, I'm going to try a little exercise to try and get our minds off of it for a while and, maybe, cool us down a degree or two. 

  At least I hope so.

  

   A thick freeze clung to the outside of the tiny bedroom window, making it hard to see outside. Benny got up for school a little early and stood before it trying to see out into the yard. He was seriously hoping  for a snow day to extend his Christmas vacation. He and his friends had been having such a good time these past two weeks he didn't want it to end. 

  Plus, he had a report due today that had totally slipped his mind until about five minutes after he went to bed last night.

  He took the frost covered window as a good sign, but still couldn't be 100 percent sure, so he put on his flannel bathrobe and slippers and went downstairs to get a better look from the front door.

  He dropped down the steps two at a time and hopped the last three in a rush to get there. He pulled open the big, heavy, oak door and prepared himself for what he'd see.

  Everything outside was buried in, at least, six inches of fresh snow.

  "Yes," Benny hissed, snapping his fingers and doing a quick little happy dance as he looked through the storm door.

  The snow had drifted against his porch until it was all but level with the top step. The road in front of his house was completely covered and had yet to be blemished by tire tracks. In the dim morning light he could see a neighbor across the street working hard to uncover his car, steam rising up from the tailpipe in the frosty air.

  Benny could hear his Mom upstairs, now, moving around and getting ready for work. He shut the front door and went into the living room to turn on the T.V. As good as it looked outside, a snow day wasn't official until you heard your school's name being read on the morning news.

  He sat down on the floor and stared at the crawl on the bottom of the screen. The news lady was blathering on about plaque psoriasis or something crazy on their health watch segment. When he heard it, he thought of the big bronze plaque his dad had gotten from work. Benny guessed it would suck if all of your skin turned bronze and tried to slide off of your bones. But, he didn't have time to think about it. There were way more important things going on.

   "C'mon, be closed, be closed, no two hour delays, I can't do a report in two hours."

   Then, finally, after twenty commercials and a story on Chinese cowboys, his school, finally, scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

   Closed.

   "Woo Hoo," Benny hollered as he hopped up and scrambled up the steps. It was on, now. A snow day!

   Benny ran to his room and started changing into his snow gear, immediately. He started piling on clothes, hoping to get to the sled hill and meet Davy and Ray for a few rides before all of the other kids showed up.

   He was almost completely dressed when his mom knocked on his door.

   "Why aren't you getting ready for school, Ben?" 

   "It's a snow day! I just saw it on the news. Is it OK if I go to the park?" Benny asked, as he searched the room for his boots.

   "Looks like your all ready to go. When were planning on asking? On your way out the door?"

   Benny shot his mom a sheepish grin, "Maybe."

   His mom rolled her eyes. "I want you back here before I have to leave for work. I'll have to see if Ray's mom can keep an eye on you."

   Benny really didn't hear the whole sentence, he gave his mom a quick hug and bolted for the door.

   It wasn't long before he was standing at the top of the hill looking out at his neighborhood and all of the fresh snow covering it. The wind was blowing in his face and he quickly pulled his ski mask down to protect from its bite. He could feel the wind cutting through the layers of clothes. 

   It was getting colder.

   If this keeps up, Benny thought, the snow on the hill is going to turn to ice. It would really be a fast ride, then.

  It would be, like, bobsled fast.

  Benny pulled his sled around in front of him. He was ready to see just how fast it would be without anyone in his way.

   As the wind blew wisps of snow into the air around him, Benny ran and jumped belly first onto his sled trying to gain as much momentum as he could.

  He raced down the hill as the wind blew snow into his mask and his eyes. As he wiped out at the bottom of the hill, he lay back in the snow enjoying the rush of the ride and the cold.

  He screamed and raised his fist into the air as the icy rush took his breath.

  It was going to be a great day.

  Even if he did have to take time out to write a stupid report.

   

Inspiration, Music, and Madness-part 3-Into the Now

  OK, kids, part three. I swear this will be the last one. Next week, we'll move on to something more interesting, radishes or table cloths or something.....
   So, for people who don't know me....My later teen years were spent being buck wild!! I had turned out to be a fairly decent guitar player by the time I was 16 and started playing in a few bands with kids I went to school with. Nothing earth shattering but all good experience.
   Unfortunately, I spent more time getting fucked up and chasing girls. I concentrated more on living the rock-n-roll lifestyle than focusing on what it took to be a success. Now, that said, I was completely serious about music. After high school I wanted to move to California and attend The Guitar Institute in L.A.
I had sent for and received their literature and had begun the process of enrolling.
   Until my girlfriend at the time got pregnant.
   Then all of that shit went straight out the window.
   I ended up marrying her when I was 17, halfway through our senior year of high school. Our oldest son was born less than a week after we graduated.
   It was tough for a long time. I still played in a band with my best friend but I was more than a little bitter about squandering my opportunity to get the hell out of Bethel, Ohio. My drug use and drinking skyrocketed and as you can guess my marriage fell apart as did my band.
   Afterwards, I spent a lot of years lost. I got a decent job and kept my head down trying to provide for my kids and wife #2. I still wrote songs and poetry from time to time but didn't take it seriously. I had a bad attitude about it all and figured I missed my shot. Most of what I wrote then was dark and depressing, reflecting my own insides. There were stops and starts along the way with bands and poetry getting published here and there, but nothing significant. This was mostly due to my own negativity and lack of patience more than any thing else.
   Then, two things happened within days of each other that changed my whole perspective on life.
    In August of 2006 my best friend killed himself in a holding cell in a county jail. Then, four days later, the day of his funeral, I found out the company I had worked for, for 15 years, was closing.
    I had a complete mental breakdown.
    Of course, I didn't have the luxury of being able to lay down, freak out and somehow try to put it all in perspective. No, kids, this was a breakdown on the run. My family needed me.
    After the initial shock of both events subsided and more than a few hours long stares out of my bedroom window on long sleepless nights. I knew I had to change. I had to quit feeling sorry for myself, take control and make things happen the way I wanted them to.
   Life is too short to leave to chance and wishful thinking. I had to create my own reality.
   It was then, I started writing seriously. More importantly, I started studying my craft seriously. Not having the money or time to go back to school, I got my hands on a syllabus for a local college's creative writing course and set out on my own.
     I started writing poetry again, too, but this time, it was focused on beauty and Imagism and just being grateful for everything I'd survived and everyone I loved.
    As I was all doing this, I started writing my first novel, too. It's about my younger days and the break-up of my first marriage but mostly it's about all of the good and bad times with my best friend and the greatest band that almost was. 
   When it gets published, it will be dedicated to him.