Schizophrenic Scribblings of the Lost Union

...and the children of Melrose strut their
stuff...is absolute zero cold enough...and
out in the valley, warm and clean, the
little one's sit by their TV screens.

No thoughts to think.  No tears to cry.
All sucked dry...down to the very last
breath.

Bartender, what is wrong with me?
Why am I so out of breath? The captain
said, "excuse me ma'am.......this species
has amused itself to death!"

Roger Waters from "Amused to Death"  title track 1992

 

I

Every moment of logical thought that
plows through my skull like a
thundering herd of cattle, utterly
destroys years of creativity and
passionate thinking!

The more you accept other people's
thoughts as the correct and undeniable
"truth", the more you will notice that
your wits have dulled and you can't
seem to remember simple names and
dates.

You have given up control of your
mental faculties and thus become a
dimwitted puppet of your superiors and
will grovel in the mud and beg on your
face for a meager financial reward
that's not really yours to begin with!

After you pay for a room just to sleep
in, cool/warm air to keep you from
sweating/freezing to death, a
harassment line, and Zombie Vision,
you don't have a piece of paper to
wipe your ass with!

Of course, I'm talking about a JOB, or
to put it more bluntly - PAID SLAVERY!

II

The Truth has always been perceived as
the way things are, rather than the
way things ought to be!

Death is but existence, camouflaged as
Life, pretending to be happiness!

III

Humans are the only animals that
perform an action just to see what the
end result will be, even if they don't
know what will come of it.

All other animals act according to
what they know will produce a given
result, so they are less likely to
cause harm to themselves or others if
the action goes wrong.

If humans don't like the end result of
an action, or if it backfires and
blows a couple thousand people up,
they just shrug it off, call their
insurance company, and dub it
unsuccessful in the name of Progress!

And Life goes on and on and on and on
and on and on and on and on .......

IV

Reap what you sow, can't forget what
you know. I feel beyond mere words
and isolated from the Human Herd!

Strayed and wish to stay that way;
don't want to be saved, just left
alone, but that's too easy; tomorrow
I'll be sold for $2.00 lb. as W/D
Choice, so let it be!

Tee hee hee, not much left of me. Try
so hard, and for WHAT?! Nada in the
sky with diamonds, picture yourself
then leave; it's okay, we were never
here!

4(a)

Lord, if thy will be done to finish
The Game, take me now and erase my
name!

v

THE GAME

In today's age, we are force-fed Life
and Power! It does not matter what we,
as individuals want for ourselves;
that which is the ideal lifestyle is
beamed at as, beaten over our heads,
and crammed down our throats, with
mandibular restraints pulling apart
our chops, as we choke helplessly on
the overkill that is Humanity's
Desire!

There is no way out! Every possible
"escape route" has been bought and
regulated by the Government! You may
"pursue happiness" but only if you
have the means, and even then, it's
not for real, because you pay for
permission to utilize the toys that
amuse you!

It's all a play! We stumble from
scene to scene, waiting eagerly for
some climax and finale which never
seems to come. And when we can no
longer continue and are sprawled
prone, weak, and near-death on the
stage floor, we cast a glassy-eye
toward" the faceless, burning light
and hear the bellowing instructions
over the loud speaker, "get up and do
it again; it wasn't good enough!

And of course, we pull our puppet's
corpse to its feet and dance the last
number again; because we believe that
it will get better (at least that's
what They say!), you will move forward
and win the game if you continue to
give 350% and bust your butt! Yes!
It can happen!

But what if the game kills the player
in the process? Well, then of course
the game is over. But not for the
other players, "get back to work!"

The loudspeaker and crowd cheers your
efforts, the band strikes up a
farewell march and the stretcher
carries you out of the Arena and
stacks you on top of the other
stinking bodies far from civilization,
where none can see (or smell) them and
change their mind about playing!

Everyone plays! Those who don't are
forced to playa different game. All
lies, false smiles, and loose
handshakes aside!

This game is for real and it will
force you back into the fold or it
will kill you before your time is due!
Not many can hold out to a martyr's
death.

Give em a couple of weeks and they'll
be smiling again, on their knees, and
dancing a jig!

INTERMISSION

(popcorn, peanuts, and piss break)

LOVELY POEM

Where were you my love when my heart
sank, and my Soul fled for some
glimpse of hope beyond that horizon of
confused Love?

Shut up, hon, I'm right here! Oh yes,
of course (clears throat), now where
was I? Oh yes:

I feel your pulse through my cheek on
your skin; wanting to stay close
forever, lest our love be tainted by
Sin.

Our breath sustains us both, hovering
between our lips. We kiss and all is
bliss; a cup of passion, pure ecstacy,
yet even more than this. (Give it up
Romeo, you're not getting any
tonight).

Shut up pumpkin, I'm trying to romance
ya!

No words be spoken, no actions or
sighs. All is known through Love's
wise heart to protect us from Life's
evil, lust, greed, corruption, filth,
greasy capitalists, perverted and
twisted preachers, back-stabbing 
preschoolers, no good for nothing...
oh, did I forget to mention lies?

I hope it will last forever, yet it's
impossible to say; nations have
promised the same only to crumble to
decay!

Let's just say we love each other, if
only for today; then we'll see where
we stand tomorrow as the morning Sun
prepares our way! "Ah, that's nice
dear, awright, come and get it."

Fame costs more than it pays!
(Don't forget to Vomit, I mean Vote!)

She Just Wanted a Ride
(To Patricia)

I was walking down the street to the
rhythm of nonchalant thinking when she
paused my walk to inquire about the
bus schedule.

"You're too late", I said, as a bus
rode by, mocking my statement. "Well,
maybe you could give me a ride", she
asked. "Sure thing", and we walked to
my car, talking about Life, the World,
and our fears and dreams.

We hit it off at once, I thought; 
subscribing to the same musical, moral
and ethical views as we talked and I
drove, so I asked her for a date.

She just smiled, took down my number,
threw me two bucks for gas, and was
gone.

I felt reborn, isolation coming to an
end; yet many days later, she still
hadn't called and my patience and hope
grew terribly thin.

But I guess she got what she wanted,
although it hurt very deeply and
stirred so many emotions inside.

All I wanted was a friend and maybe
more, in time; yet this dream was only
shared by my imagination, because
alas, all she really wanted was a
ride!

(Places everybody)
(3, 2, 1, and ACTION!)

VI

Life, in itself, is a beautiful thing.
It is the way we live it and treat
it's offspring that is the Tragedy!

DEATH TO DEATH
(Thrash/Punk/Metal Lyrics)

Death to all who oppose opposition!
Death to criminals against sinning!
Death to lawyers eradicating laws!
Death to politicians against lying!
Death to suicidal punks afraid to die!
Death to birds afraid to fly!
Death to clowns in polka-dot ties!
Death to potatoes afraid to be fries!
Death to Truth, suffocated by Lies!

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, death to
death, love, peace, and trust!

I don't want to be a Human Being
anymore; it hurts too much to feel!
I want to be cold, lifeless, absorbing
nothing. Nothing, at least, is real!

VII

STREET SMARTS

When you roam the street, let no gaze
attract your eye! The leeches will
steal your curiosity, all the while
pocketing your trust and cash, sending
you away a used zombie, sucked dry!

Does it sanctify your conscience that
you helped him out, when tomorrow and
years more, he'll be doing the same?

Now you're further in debt and he's
closer to Death, because he used the
five bucks you gave him to buy a
"rock" of crack cocaine!

And his stomach still growls and the
liberals howl and you just keep
getting screwed at whatever you do!

So you give up on Society, sell your
home, flee to the woods; then it snows
and you catch the flu!

What's a guy to do?

VIII

I gave it my best shot, but I lost!
I lost the game which we sarcastically
call "Life"!

I tried to play it their way. I did
what I thought they wanted me to do.
I acted the way I thought they wanted
me to act.

I tried to rid myself of useless
emotions and feelings which are so
harmful to a business and the way it
runs.

I even tricked myself; or at least, I
tried to convince myself that I had no
feelings or emotions toward anything,
but I lied!

I couldn't escape from who I was! I
had a weakness! I actually cared for
people and their identity! Damn me
and my spineless self for caring! I
wanted so much to think logically
without emotion but I just couldn't!

Now, I must hang for my humanistic
treason! Fuck me! Let me die and
forget who I was, so I may leave this
Hell!

IX

(the violin plays on)

I searched my mind and there was
nothing. I pondered my heart and
there was nothing. I'm trying to
write this poem and there is nothing!

Wait a second, coming up dry.
Let's start over.

Wanted to be a Poet.
Wanted to prove or show to others what
I knew. Revealed everything until it
got too deep; then ran off to hide
behind confused words, forsaking the
Truth for entertaining rhymes meant to
distract from reality than to gaze
upon directly, unafraid.

Wanted to tell the Truth, until it was
about me. Poetry became a false haven
where I hid to escape from myself;
afraid of uncontrolled circumstances,
which led me toward the false horizon
of deceptive thought, turned against
me in chaotic half-smiles of reversed
pride! A Schmuck!

Public Service Announcement
(from Ted Kennedy)

Burp! Oh, I'm sorry. Are we on the
air? My fellow Americans, on behalf
of this being National Bible Week, I'd
like to unleash this on ya. (Chuckle,
chuckle) No, not that (clears throat)
Now listen:

"When the Bible gets dusty,
your Soul becomes rusty!"

Hey, you're kinda of cute, maybe after
this is over you and I could ...... .

CUT!

X
(no, not Malcolm)

DUSK
Twilight, soft night, awaiting the
curtain call of day. Stillness, sweet
mess, of children hard at play.

Old men, lounge chairs, cool brew, ask
what's new. Same as ever was, nothing
much, reaching for another one, want
one? How about you?

Young kids, homework blues, tracking
up the house with mud on their shoes.
Boob tube, car needs a lube.

This ain't no poem, I've got the "Bob
Dylan Blues."

XI

Everything in my life has become too
common; no more adventures except
false expeditions to get away from my
desperation and fears, and a World I
have grown weary of!

Too late to fix a faulty wire that
must be connected in order to power
and continue on! Nonsense, in other
words!

Absolutely, no more sense, yet I'll
gladly write you a sweet poem to
molest your soul for the paltry sum of
three pence!

Waiting, I guess. For what, I know
not. Just tired of eating
Capitalistic shit burgers covered with
lies and slandering snot!

The Indians handed over this land (not
by choice) in the exact mint condition
it had been in when they first
inhabited it many moons ago.

We've only had it for 200 years and
we're already choking on our own
vomit. Maybe much more than the devil
and lazy, mindless philosophies in
that peaceful salvation which is
POT??! !

XII

Reading Walden by candlelight, to
escape the cold, rational fright.

Looking back seems easier than
forward; yet tomorrow will fill itself
in; as if Destiny herself had already
come and gone, like a butterfly racing
out his first/last day to usher in the
Void w/out ticket.

No thoughts of tomorrow, only
suffering of today! How I am I
supposed to welcome the dawn of
technology with open arms when, with
our fellow Man, we haven't even
learned to do the same?

Boy, I sure do wish I were dumb; I'd
smile at insults and laugh if I stayed
out too long in the Sun. 

Yet I know and am afraid; not quite sure 
what to do. Please send an angel to 
instruct me before I seek out other
possibilities which only fellow ghosts
knew! (On the run from reality)

You know, I never asked to be a Poet;
last thing on my mind when I was
young, just ask my ma. Yet here I am,
and you are, suffering along side me,
raptured in thought and emotion.
Gotta be against the Law to be so
bold!

I hold noose in one hand and blindfold
in the other, as I step forth to the
executioner to hand him his wares. No
wrong have I done, less thought and
feeling sum. Okay! I'm a scoundrel!
Wrap rope round neck and pull hard!
Cures all ills, I'm told!

Pink Floyd on the disc, Peroni Beer
quenching thirst, madness swimming in
mind; on a roll toward Hades and I
ain't got much time.

Closing in, yet no set day; like a
thief in the night, isn't that what
the Lord did say? My only hope when
the vote is tallied and I'm standing
before Judgement's Gate, is that He'll
bear in mind all the suffering we had
to deal with day to day.

Go easy, I'll cry! We're only Your
Creation beyond Your realization; all
Your power come back to haunt Your
expectations ! (shit-eating grin on
face)

But then He'll remind me of Calvary
and the Supreme Sacrifice: the blood,
tears, and pain. And I'll hang my
head low and drop to my knees and be
smitten to Eternal Damnation because
my paltry life was all in vain!

Oh well, see ya in Hell! Boy this
place sure does smell. How ya doing
Mr. Evil Dude; you sure know how to
party, got any food?

And he'll look at me and laugh. This
job is too easy, he'll say. Crack his
knuckles and pop the whip; come, my
little droogs, it's time to play!

Phooey! No fun in transition; all
fears are very real! No fax machine.
to save you now; no 24 hour bondsman
to post your bail. Fucked, I say!
Oh, excuse my Portuguese.

So, I'm a Poet huh? Great! Why don't
they just have a test to give us at
birth. Here's a Poet, doc. Great,
good work, intern. Go ahead and kill
it and I'll meet you at Chez Logic for
brunch.

Uh, okay. Good thing we got him
before he grew; no tellin what kind of
damage he might have done, huh?

No shit! Might have started people
thinking. Wouldn't want that now,
would we? Hell no! Good job, intern.
Now before we eat, we need to scrub up
for that lobotomy on this english
professor that slipped through the
System. We'll tame his shrew,
awright...chuckle...chuckle...chuckle.

It's not that I'm special/cursed, as a
Poet, or favored/stiffed by the (gods);
all Humanity has a special gift they pass
down to their fellow Man. Unseen and
unappreciated in its simple form, yet
powerful as Hell when known as the Truth;
I dare ya!

The mute speaks greater truths than a
fool who rambles on (like me) and knows
more, yet doesn't expose his knowledge to
those without saved senses, not
enlightened (like I do); i.e., those
seeking a chair on the NYSE or a position
fondling people's futures!

PART FINAL
(More Sarcasms)

I

So beautiful and marvelous is Life, when
properly revealed. No deceptive coloring
to conceal it's truth, only Love and
warmth to the feel.

Radiant, bold, encompassing all; more 
majestic than a mountain, more savory
than a cheek full of chaw.

I love this old land and it loves me;
although I probably took from her a
hellava lot more than she ever gave me.

I like to recycle, if it helps to pay the
rent; and I don't mind using a rubber,
cause it might just save your ass after
you've spent.

I have no idea what I'm talking about!
Good thing nobody reads what I write.
My thoughts come in gushes; an endless
spout; but you might just learn something
in spite!

II

Drinking again, but so what. What have I
to stay sober for? I hate everything
about my life: job; well, I guess
that's it because it is my life. Now I
know why people have families! At least
you can come home to some kind of love
and support; not emptiness!

If only I had someone to love me, yet how
many times have I cried for that to no
avail? They say you must love yourself
before someone else will love you. Great!
Put restrictions on Love, too! If that's
the case, I'm dead already; no wonder
eyes divert when coming across mine; they
don't want to be sucked into the Void of
Desolation!

Of course I have my Pop to blame for my
total cynical views toward life. Talk
about a man born dead, whew!

No wonder we cry when we come out of the
womb; take one look around and say, "no
thanks, this isn't my stop, hey! whatcha
doin? Put me back in; hell no, I won't
go, hell no, I won't go (spank) waaahhh!
pacifier restraint and law-abiding tyke;
you will learn!

I remember when there was a time when I
looked upon every new day as my first day
of Life; I'd see everything through "new
eyes", touching, feeling, caressing!

But the World doesn't want dreamers!
Only laborers to pull the levers, push
the buttons and balance the books! What
a pity, I'd yell at them. What a loser,
they'd laugh at me!

At war against opposition, searching for
conflict! Well, it's like the saying
goes, if you can't beaten, you get
beaten by them! So you're on their side
whether you like it or not!

Sorry about the cynicism and sarcasm;
I'll say 50 "Hail Capitalisms" before I 
go to bed tonight. Ouch! Hey! I said I
was sorry!

I know I need help but it's hard to turn
to the source of the problem for
guidance. So who's to blame for my
mental illness?

I can't really blame my father for
telling me that Life sucks since the day
I was born; because, in fact, it does! I
can't blame my mother because, as a saint
and angel, she disqualifies for blame!

I can't blame my teachers for
disciplining my every creative effort and
for trying to think for myself, because,
in today's modern World, you're not being
useful unless you do your job without
complaint, hear/speak/see no evil, and
stay out of the way of other people's
progress!

I can't blame my coaches for pushing so
hard, because, I suppose a team
championship is the most valuable thing
in life; not to mention, it looks good on
a resume'.

I can't blame my employers for getting on
to me for botching my job and making
countless errors, because, in fact, I
really have screwed everything that I
touch up! (Trying to think for myself
again. I suppose it'll kill me in the
end!)

I guess it's time to blame myself! I
don't know why it's so hard to do!
Everybody else can do it without losing a
night's sleep; I guess I can, too!

Here goes: I'm a fucking loser okay!?
I'm a mentally deranged reject; is that
what you want to hear? I was born the
bastard child of Insanity and even she
threw me to the dogs!

What's to become of me now that my Soul
is transparent and I've revealed all? Do
I get to be a part of the Human Race
again and no longer an outcast with
unsound ideas?

Do I get to work and do as I'm told
without thinking and be thankful for
being blessed with such a wonderful life
and drop to my knees before the Powers
that Be and kiss the Gold Ring of
Supremacy and cry out, "I am saved, I am
saved, Lord have mercy, I am saved!" Or
what?

People ask me why I'm so bitter after
being forced to give up all the things I
hold most dear.? I guess I'm just the
eternal child denying growth, because
growth means death; and my logic is
simple: even if you are alive but not
living, you are, in my opinion, quite
dead!

Because, hell, even tree stumps exist,
but the don't grow no more, cause they're
dead! Do you follow what I'm saying,
buckwheat? o'tay!

I know people realize this, because
they're not stupid! (It's Media death to
insult the public without their
consent) They just don't want to be
awakened to face their fears!

Hell, I greet fear and pain with open
arms! They're my Saturday night whores
with open legs waiting to taint me with
their diseased twats; while I scream for
more and more; till I climax and don't
wish to be bothered no more! (Too much?)

Damn! I have had it good in Life,
though! If it hadn't been for my
father's sacrifices throughout his life,
I wouldn't even have these fancy
thoughts!

It's like they say, philosophies are only
afforded the few! The rest latch on to
cold logic and call it their own, cling
to their breast and savor as an eternal
lover, quieting a restless heart!

But even if you come from a good
upbringing, does that mean you have to
pay debt to the System by existing in
quiet desperation and smiling only in
closed company?

Boy! I sure would like to say
these things out loud, but they'd lock me
up for sure! Yet write idiocies and
they'll place you at the highest echelon
of human thought! (What was that?
They're coming to take me away? I'd
better hurry up and finish this peace!)

I suppose we have too much in this
generation; yet it's not like we praise
others sacrifices for getting us here; if
anything, we bitch and moan because we
want MORE!

Nothing will ever be fast, powerful, or
small enough for our spoiled hearts! I'm
probably considered stupid by Society and
a genius by those on skid row. Yet which
is better overall? What can bums give me
that a corporation can't? and vice-versa?
Neither can give me what's most
important, and that is???

Did I ever tell you how great my
childhood was? Man, was I a prince among
men; the eats, sleeps, beaches, parks,
and amusements of a modern day god!

Spoiled by a mother with too big of a
heart and, even though the money came
from him to finance our fairy-tale World,
we were still mentally beaten by a father
who had already given up on life and
couldn't stand to see anyone happy when
he wasn't! (I still feel sorry for you!)

No life while others are dying. No
celebration in the Valley of the Damned!
Too much pain in life to smile. All
there is is work, eat, sleep, and death!

Your sentence for living is to drudge
through each day hating yourself and
others for not having spine enough to
rise above the deceptive views of your
forefathers!

But then again, we live in a different 
world than our fathers did growing up.
And although he made us feel guilty 
about having a good time and for 
expressing our feelings, I still love him
for not giving up on us after all the 
things we went through. 

Behold! A new Sun is upon the Horizon!
Old at heart but new to young eyes.
Don't you understand that the children
see through open eyes, feel with a more
fragile heart, and think with a cleansed
mind, rather than your crusty adult 
pulse, waiting to die a thousand cynical
deaths?

Myself, I'm a dead man! Not much longer
till my fate is sealed and I'm shuffled
off this mortal coil with steel toed
boots! Nothing personal though, I'm
sure!

What happens to a person when they no
longer can make a contribution to
Society? The previously mentioned, of
course (mortal coil). So sorry, didn't
mean to conflict with the Plan, but now
that I have, what's to become of me?

No more lessons, no more teaching,
already had a chance to conform, yet
chose not to; you bastard! Begone now,
say good-bye to yourself! This writing
will end in insanity! Need to stop
writing now, not making sense, too much
beer in me. See you at part three!

III

I really don't care the way things are
today. I just don't want to be a part of
history unfolding and crushing us; like a
carpet unrolled onto tiny insects to
accommodate royal feet, in mockery to our
declaration of so-called independence!
(Total denial)

We drive through fog and smog to get to
work, where we're treated like dogs who
either do as we're told and get a bone,
or deny power to the Whip and are given
the bone!

We fade through walls and stumble about
doing as we're told; the only thing we
actually hear being the signal to go to
lunch or home; yet very aware of not
letting others on to personal matters
that will incriminate us to the gallows
pole at noon!

Ghosts floating aimlessly toward a
phantom tomorrow! Not quite realizing or
wanting to believe that our past botched
actions brought us to where we are today.

Just how much of your Life can you 
justify before erasing yourself to 
oblivion!?

The Truth, as it was known at it's
inception, is kept locked away at Fort
Knox and the guards themselves don't know
where it is hid. No human eye dare meet
wi th it's gaze for fear of being struck
down to atomic particles on site,
Ptoohey!

Because the Truth had been hid for so
long, scientists, theologists, and other
professors of bungling haste, set out to
create another truth; microscopic against
the "Real McCoy", yet nonetheless, more
powerful because of it's ability to
metamorphosize at another's will!

This worked out well in favor of those
with power. They would say something
mesmerizing and the truth would mark it
down to posterity. So let it be written,
so let it be dumb.

And this went on for years until the
truth decided it wanted to cut out and
speak it's own mind. So the leaders no
longer had the skill to harness it's
power; the truth made up it's own stories
and sold them to tabloids for a small
fortune, ate caviar, drove a Porsche,
sunned in the Med, and made it with
Lies in bed.

That is what I contribute, of course, to
the 2nd truth's falling out. But it
wasn't quite over. Other truths came
forth to vie for succession to the most
powerful position in the world.

After awhile, countless truths were
occupying every nation and congress and
parliament in the world, lobbying for
votes from the politicians.
they got em!

z

So beautifully cold outside today; what
truth shall I seek to light my way?
Horoscope visions so impersonal and
false? Or faith in my fellow Man to guide
me through this frigid waltz? Gimme the
paper!

If we can't have Truth, we can conspire a
good Lie, to put our mind at ease and
subdue that scoundrel, "Why?"

There is Hope, but it costs more each
year. What are we to do when people toast
happiness with strangers, yet look upon
Peace with fear?!

Who cares? We have fax machines so we
don't have to talk face to face, and
voice mail to do the same. phone sex with
no strings attached, just a phone bill
with figures to fuel a shuttle blast!

It costs so much more to be independent
than to admit we are helpless, in need of
ONE! That's all for today, see ya
tomorrow; for now, my scribblings are
done!