(no subject)

[diogenic]

Blacker than the roar of thunder
louder than the sound of tears
two thousand tons of granite
metropolis tombstone
I feel the pains of your anguish
in the pit of my stomach
welled up tears
of nitric vitriol
I could be an angel
leather clad
with iron fist
I could be a tornado
whirling in your world
death
destruction
pain
and famine
but...
no one will win this war
it's a new campaign
your rules
are as redundant
as the trench foot
and the bow and arrow
I could be an angel
rain blood
in your eyes
I could give you famine
pestilence
and fear
but...
no one will win this war
can you taste me
can you see me
can you hear me
alone in your memory
eating at your mind
with fiction
and fantasy?
And somewhere...
somewhere in a sky
a blue sky
summer sky
is a butterfly
and I weep for it's wings
gossamer rainbows
beating the drum
beating the drum
and somewhere in infinity
a child cried
and the world stopped turning
to see
to know
to understand
but now the yellow cabs roll
horns sounding
for rush hour
now the factory whirls
machines keep churning
widows heard
but never seen
sounds of sobbing
in a high rise
tower block
all alone
with sorrow
with despair
and...
I'm not even touching day light
and...
I'm not even knowing
the name of your song
I'm just holding on
to a memory
that maybe never existed
and I see the desert
and I hear the thunder
and I feel the icy winds of...
a murder of crows
on an empty highway
dice roll
I stroll
back through my mind
searching for the crossroads
because...
someone
somewhere
sometime
has to know
the smell of napalm
that lives within the soul
of every politician
of every two cent celebrity
in those reality shows
the most unreal thing
on the TV screen
beside the adverts
for...
free...
too...
won?
no one will win this war
can you taste me
can you see me
can you hear me
alone in your memory
eating at your mind
blacker than the roar of thunder
louder than the sound of tears
two thousand tons of granite
metropolis tombstone
I feel the pains of your anguish
in the pit of my stomach
welled up tears
of nitric vitriol...

Some say it started in a desert
along a highway
watched by a murder of crows...
I say it started forever ago in an ocean
with a dream
but we all have our starts
do we have ends?

God knows why I picked Ohio
I guess it was some crazy romantic notion
me and T had always talked about...
dreamt about Ohio
I'd even ran by the name Landon Toledo for a while cuz of the Ohio connection
but me and T were no more
so why Ohio?
It was cold when I arrived
not surprising
January in Ohio is usually cold
they told me it was a mild winter
but mild is always relative
if you've come from somewhere warmer then their mild is cold
if you've come from somewhere colder...
I don't need to go on about climate vagaries do I?
What do I need to go on about?

You ever sit down to write something and find yourself writing something completely different?
Find that your subconscious has taken over and is leading you down other avenues?
C'est la vie I guess...

Can a lie that's whispered ever be softer than the truth?

...and all the flowers
in all the gardens
pale by you...

I remember when I was so young
that I never saw a thing
even when it wasn't there...
I even remember missing darkness

There was a street
that ran alongside the railroad
I used to have to walk it every morning when I was...
so small that ages didn't matter
and every day I walked it different people would be there
usually men
funny men with dirty coats
and long uncombed hair
they used to talk to me
and everyone said I shouldn't listen
but they looked
they listened
they learnt
they knew enough to stimulate
knew enough to titillate
knew enough to sow a seed of...
And now?
Now those mornings are gone
the road isn't even there no more
some fine new condos instead of goods yards
but their spirits live
the men...

You ever lived near the railroad?
I swear the whistle of the train is an illusion
there's ghosts
real ghosts
in the night air
and when they hear the train coming
they hide their screams behind it's whistle
hoping no one will hear their agony
their pain
but I remember hearing it
I remember feeling the cold chill as they touched me
shook me in my bed
as the train whistled passed
calling to me

'wake up
wake up
the world is calling
the world is calling'

and then they'd cry in pain
like a warning
saying

'If you stay
you'll regret
everything
already set
time to walk
or stop for pain
time to walk
forget the rain'

When I remember that old street
that old railroad
I never know how to feel
being small was...
interesting

Ohio wasn't interesting
not at all
but then I have Ohiophobia
an irrational fear of Ohio
particularly Cleveland...
I apologize now to anyone from Cleveland
but that's the way it is
sun never shines when I'm there
only ever headache weather...
It was back in the days
of course
when my life was split evenly between the great outdoor world of reality
and the online super highway
Internet world of...
What was that place?
That place of magic ether where things seemed to be OK
a judgment free world where all the binds and prejudices of reality didn't exist...
So, being has how it was that time
I logged on to the nearest computer for travel advice and to shoot the shit with the
usual suspects.

'head south'

they said

'Florida is good this time of year'

they said

'avoid the winter cold'

they said

So I set out south
but never got there...
it worked for a while
first ride took me south
but after that I was forever chasing rides in the wrong direction
nice enough people
but all heading in the wrong direction
till in the end I was slightly North west of my starting point

I logged off from the net and wandered over to highway 71

'Head south from Cleveland'

the crowd had roared
and ever eager to please
I strove to meet the request
Highway 71 goes south
I thought
so let the journey commence from that point...
I didn't have to wait long
could I have waited long?
I don't know
to concede defeat is easy in January
who wants to be on the road when the road is cold and barren
and the frost is acting like a warning sign
shimmering white message of stay at home...

I picked up a ride almost immediately
a guy pulled over and told me he could take me as far as Brunswick
which wasn't far
and it took me off the highway
but it was a start
and all journeys have to start somewhere
so I poured my half-asleep body into the passenger seat
closed my eyes and rode about 10 miles down the road...
Now it would be nice to paint a romantic picture of old Brunswick
Queen of the road
bringer of dreams
gateway to freedom
but to be honest the place left me flat
and it felt like I still hadn't left Cleveland
it was just another sprawling satellite of the city
I feel sorry for towns like that
they start off with their own identity
but the city creeps in and starts to take control
until it's just a micro-mirror image on the edge
with nothing to offer but miles and miles of accommodation for new comers
those running from the city
from crime
and anyone else who needs an excuse to live in the city
without actually living in it's borders...

I felt a strong urge to leave Brunswick fast
those sort of places aren't my sort of places
I'd rather either be in the city proper
or out there
somewhere in the midst of it's own identity
a rural idyll that is shaped by unique people
not a hive of ants on the outside looking in...
but that's the same with most things in my life
I hate the middle
the middle offers nothing but safety
in the middle we miss everything
we get neither the excesses of the city or of wealth or of revolution
nor do we get the honest earthy feel of the country or poverty or hard work and tradition
so I took advantage of the kind offer from my rides cousin of a lift down the road to Medina
I still had traveled next to no where but at least Medina felt more rural
felt like I'd left Cleveland
felt like I was truly back on the road
and for about 15-20 miles I'd kept the promise of heading south to warmer climes
although it still felt cold as shit to me...
That's a strange one isn't it?
cold as shit?
shit is warm so why do we say cold as shit?
OK...
although it still felt cold as ice to me...
I feel better having corrected that...

I had a late breakfast in Medina
it cost me a couple of flaky stories but it was worth it
the joint looked like a dive but I swear they had an angel cooking in there
but then you always find angels in the least expected places
I wonder how many courses of events she's manipulated with her cooking
putting a warm disposition in the heart of a person that's influenced their day
that's how angels work
they influence
they don't control
they steer us towards...
whatever is their bidding
but leave us freewill and choice...
anyway I thanked my kind benefactor and promised to return one day
(a promise I'm likely to break)
and strode out to the crossroads where I picked up a lift with a couple of teens doing there
cheap Jack Kerouac impressions...
They took me about 50 miles to a place called Norwalk
north west of Medina
OK
you didn't expect everything to run that smoothly did you?
south doesn't have to be south does it?
And the road doesn't have to be quick does it?
so what if I'd spent about 80 miles traveling to a spot 50 miles west of my start point
it was traveling
it wasn't sitting still...
Anyway these Kerouac impersonators make me laugh
get up in the morning
drive 100 miles
then go home
and spend a life dreaming that they hit the road
there's nothing wrong with standing still
they should accept that and enjoy the rides for what they are
I was struggling all the time to hold back laughs as they told me 50 miles of road stories
all centered on the same piece of road
and just like their journeys their stories never got anywhere but back home again
but I'm not a bad guy
and the mess my life has been I'm not in a position to judge so I just laid back
feigned interest and laughed at the places I thought it was appropriate to laugh at...
Why do people always want to be someone else?
why can't they recognize the beauty in them is their individuality
take these two chumps for example
here they were ploughing up and down the highway picking up strangers
a kind act indeed and meeting so many people
with so many stories to hear and learn from
something that is truly good and yet they miss it all trying to be someone that they could
never be...

Whilst at Norwalk I took time out to visit the birthplace of Edison
Nice little place to take the family or some school field trip
it was a break...
From there I hiked up to highway 80
not that far a walk
couple of miles tops
and it gave me time to clear my mind a little
settle in to a more sedate rhythm of life
more sedate than normal bum rhythm?
sure...
why not?
Actually being a bum is very stressful so to escape reality
a thing you live with 24/7
well beyond the normal persons experience is quite a relief

Suggestions for the morning flight path of a butterfly?

You dream of empty days on a highway
floating
cruising
going nowhere
but...
how many heartbeats
and dreams do you think it costs?

Flat line desert
Comatose
between the bright light
and dark night

gang of angels
dressed as crows
a murder by the highway
will they start to fly
my way

sun kissed madness
and for every mile that's walked
a thousand more are traveled
internally
fraternity
of internal screamers

Ever kissed the sky at night
and felt it's cool breath against your mind
like an empty whisper
hollow of hope?
All who cry
travel on that breeze

What is it that screams at us
when we are waking
what is it that pins us to the day?

Does anything mean anything?

glass slipper kissed the mind
of holy fuck
and hear me blind
with every sound
within a whisper
ticking of an iron bell
or is a belle
a bon voyage
of maiden flights
and ghostly nights
of slipped inside a circle
going somewhere
and how many ways are freeways
even if the sign points north
and carries on for never
or ever
turning on the plate
of open comfort
and all that can be said
is mother are you watching
can you hear me?

repeated theme of mother...

I kicked a few poems around in my head
and gave a thought to the Internet
after all if I wasn't by that road side I'd probably be sitting on my ass posting the poems I
was thinking on the net somewhere...
I reckon I kicked out about 30 poems on that short stretch of road
can't say that I remember one of them though...
I started with internal poems
soft like rain in my head
and then the clouds burst and the words came pouring out and my mind couldn't contain them
and I was compelled to recite my improvisations to the listening emptiness of the road
word after word flowed from my body and across the void and into...
space?
I wonder if sound travels eternally
I guess scientists probably know the answer
but if it does I wonder what point in time or space those secret words will meet ears and
whose ears they will reach...

Calling Jupiter or Mars
have you seen the words
I scattered by the highway
whilst out dreaming
if they come your way
then please ignore
my ghastly poetic roars...

I read tomorrow's news today
I saw your smile
beaming from the front page
headline news
a beautiful view
maybe there is hope?

They say there is an ultimate test of friendship or love
they say if you can reveal your secrets to someone
and they stand beside you still
then nothing can shake that relationship

Here is a secret

Please don't ask questions
just be content in knowing that what was was
and what must be must be

It was a hard time
A time of harshness and great darkness
evil had befallen the city that I was living in
and I needed to be hard
and cold
and strong
to survive

People were dying all around us and the air stunk of evil
day never seemed to come
only endless nights...

Now the word evil is gonna have problems for some people
what does it mean?
What is evil
and what is just bad?

Now all I can say to you is that you have to make your own definition
decide for yourself
but when I use the word evil I do not use it lightly
I use it because I believe I am talking about pure evil

I wouldn't say I was a religious type
but...
I'm not an old sceptic who doesn't believe in anything
I saw stuff when I was younger
satanic rites and things that made me KNOW that there are things beyond what we usually see in life
Sometimes when I woke it was dark...
now...
I like the night
and I have no problems with the dark in that sense
but I've never been fully comfortable with a sort of man made darkness...
it's not a fear or a phobia or anything
it's just discomfort...
I'd move around
to try and get a little bit more comfortable
I might have slipped while sleeping
as I'd wake up all cramped
and in a funny position
but I'd try to be quiet
being locked in the closet was a punishment
and I didn't want to prolong my stay...

Dark
Dark
Dark

I wrote my first ever poem in that closet
or the first one I remember making up
based on a nightmare I had in there

The cats in the cupboard
we're in the hall
when the cupboard splits
the cat will eat us all...

I had this vision of this cat in there
breathing heavily
getting bigger
and bigger
and bigger...

I often had nightmares in that closet
but I never said a thing about it
I never let them inside my head

When they'd come to let me out
I'd always be laying there
propped up against the wall
with my eyes closed
faking sleep
and I'd let them carry me off to bed
partly so they couldn't see how I was feeling
couldn't crawl inside me like they did with the others
but partly because it felt good to be carried
to be held
I could pretend it was love...

I remember them having visitors over
I remember them carrying me through the crowded room
my eyes shut tight
but my ears wide open
seeing for me
probing
searching for answers
and they carried me through the room

'Isn't he silly?'

They said

'but so adorable...'

but I didn't want to be adored in that way
I didn't want love to hurt...

I still remember faces from those days
the smiles
they smiled at me
like everything was good
like they were good
I really don't think they could see things
could understand
but I wasn't going to tell them
I was always going to be a blank canvas
survival came through neutrality
flexibility
the ability to change and adapt to what they wanted
I saw where resistance led
I got the closet
I was lucky
somewhere in the deep dark heart of the forest lies resistance
somewhere in the stench of...
how can you describe that smell?
Take a male locker room
mix it with an old folks home
roll in a good portion of fear
and multiply by a million
and maybe
just maybe
you might get a whiff of the forest
of the dark
of...

And no one ever said anything
no one
everything flowed like it was meant to
no glimmer of decisions
no glimmer of conscience
just a black machine
a black organic machine
of damp
of night
of...

I remember the music
quiet
menacing
ancient tunes from inside the very earth
belching forth visions of dark fears

I remember movements
I remember bodies
always bodies
fat bodies
slim bodies
male bodies
female bodies
always...

I remember dreaming that I'd wake up
dreaming that red on black didn't matter
but red on black always matters

I remember they so very rarely screamed
even at the end
quiet zombies
even though I didn't know what zombies are
that's how I see them now
lifeless
soulless
waiting
no fear
no anticipation
no joy
no despair
lifeless and waiting
for red on black
and then the smell of the damp forest

And I remember the closet
I remember waiting for freedom
but knowing that sometimes it was worse on the outside
knowing sometimes it was worse in the light

and they always smiled...

I remember knowing evil
knowing fear
knowing power...

Highway 80 seemed fairly busy and it didn't take long to pick up a ride
in that sense today was a good day...
I got pulled in by a guy hitting the route from Cleveland to Toledo
it was his daily run, there and back
and he was glad of the company
I think he found the road monotonous and far from glamorous
although he had a distant sparkle in his eyes like he was holding onto a dream he'd had once
in the beginning some speck of sense that justified the daily back and forth that masqueraded
as his life...
Well it didn't seem long before I reached here...
Toledo, Ohio
best laid plans hey?
I was told south
so I went south
then kinda slipped east
and ended up at a more northerly point than which I started
and...
always an and...
and I've been to Toledo before...
first thing I did was to hit the bar I went to last time I was here but...
it wasn't the same place
memories never wait in suspended animation for you
I kinda hate that
you leave a place
especially if it's been a good time
and you kinda dream about the whole place standing frozen
awaiting your return
like it will always be the same
and then you get back and the buildings have changed
the people have changed
the atmosphere has changed
and the whole worlds different
might as well be a different place
it's one of the reasons why I don't like to travel back somewhere
or to try to recapture a dream...

Still...
if that bar was a wash out the next one wasn't
I met a few people there
and we talked and hung
and I bummed a few drinks...
I think one of the guys was getting a bit pissed with me
saw me as a freeloader
and maybe I am
they don't see it that way in some places
they appreciate the traveler who strays into their lives
but this guy resented parting with hard earned cash
buying drinks for some hobo
crazy really cuz I could see in his eyes that he was a dead man walking
his life was shallow and empty and anyone was adding color to it
he fed off me
drunk in everything that this crazy stranger brought to him
but his timid fear of change and all things different made his purse strings tighten
Not so true with all of them
not everyone fears new
fears different
That's how come I'm sitting here typing this now...
There was this couple there
Bob and Barbara
kinda straight as they come at first glance
but good people
wholesome people
people born of the earth
who see the positive in everything
see each happening as a means of growth and learning
an experience to be drunk in
they've brought me back here to their home
I figure they'll put up with me for a night or two
I'll trade a warm night and a roof for a few tales of the road
that will enrich their imaginations...
at least I hope it works out that way...

I guess I've spent a lot of time living off other peoples charity
I remember a guy called Graham
I don't really remember that much about how me and Graham connected
I remember the first time I saw him
he was standing on the corner
lighting a cigarette
and these girls were coming across to try and make some sort of move on him
it stuck in my mind because he was so good looking
and the girls were moving on him like they were being drawn by a magnet

Graham was about 6'1" or 6'2"
blonde
well built
but still quite slim
and not to muscular that he looked like a freak
he had the sort of look of a teen surf/pop idol
with the odd touch of the ghetto thrown in
and he wasn't from the ghetto
and that sort of fake dressing down to look bad usually pisses me off
but Graham was so good looking that he could get away with it
and he had this smile
it was like a powerful weapon
when he smiled the girls lusted

I was about 15 at the time
and he was about 16
but even though he was so young every girl
and every woman lusted after him
when he aimed his smile at them
he was simply beautiful
and had the cool to go with it...

I didn't talk to him that day
why should I?
But we hung in the same circles so we often spent time together
even though we hardly talked
that was until one day
it was in the summer
and there was about 6 or 7 of us standing on this corner
just hanging out
trying to be cool
like kids do
when these two guys came across to us
I recognised them from Compton
they were bad
and everyone knew it...

The two guys approached us
one carrying a gun
the other a small hammer
and they sort of said something to us
I really can't remember what they said
or what the conversation was about
I think they were looking for someone
or something
and were trying to intimidate us into helping them

Now I know a lot of people out there might thing 6 against 2
why the big deal
but a couple of the group were girls
and 4 against 2 isn't so cool when the two are armed
and besides these were big guys
men
and we weren't
but we stood our ground
me at the front
and Graham beside me
there was no violence
but we didn't back down
and I don't know if it was the adrenaline high of that incident
or something else
but from that moment on there seemed to be a bond between me and Graham
a bond that grew stronger with every day that passed

I wasn't the toughest guy in the group of us that used to hang around back then
there was maybe 25 or 30 guys
and 25 or 30 girls who hung around together on and off
and I would doubt that I rated above maybe 15th strongest
but I some how found myself as sort of unelected leader of the group
I know if Ruebens or Stallion had challenged me I couldn't have done anything to defend the position
but life is not just about muscle
I think the reason I'd been selected was that I was always around
I lived on the street
the others just hung out there
so whenever anyone had a problem and wanted to get away from home
I was there for them
day or night
I was the one constant of the street
so I figure I maybe had some respect or something because of that
I know a lot of the gang liked me because I'd been there for them at various times
when they'd snuck out at 2 am
or 3 am
because Dad beat them
or their brother abused them
or school sucked
or just because the street was addictive
I don't know
you'd have to ask them...

Graham came from a good home
his dad ran his own business
and I think the family was quite wealthy
but because of the bond between us Graham started spending more and more time with me out on the street and we became like a pair
if you thought of one of us
you thought of the other
we were almost inseparable
spending our time together 24/7 whatever we were doing
be it chasing girls
earning money
or just hanging out

I felt a little guilty at first
cuz in the early days I was earning from a dubious source
and I didn't want to drag Graham down with me
but that was soon over
and the guilt subsided

I remember the last day of earning
we had to rob this place
to get some information
and our payment was whatever else we could carry out of the place
which was computers and a desk on wheels
me and Graham climbed on to the desk
lashed the computers to it
and rode the desk all the way back to our neighborhood
and this was in the middle of the day
I think we caused quite a stir
theirs gridlock enough in the city without making room for idiots riding desks...

Like I said
we were getting on great
but Graham wasn't used to the street
so he was worried about seeing me sleeping in the sort of places I was
and so he invited me to move into his moms car
I appreciated it
and moved in
but our nights were late
and having to wake early to get out of the way of his mom
so that she didn't know I was sleeping there
was quite hard
so I soon moved back to the disused swimming pool for a while

That summer was special
it was perfect
we spent all our time together
hanging out
getting in to everything
I was happy
it felt good...

I was always a runner when I was younger
why walk anywhere when it can be run in a fraction of the time?
I remember me and Graham and two girls went down to the beach
we were young
we were guys
we had expectations
and the girls gave us hope
we had a good night on the beach
much laughing and joking
and the odd smoke to chill us out
and then the girls suggested we went swimming
well...
we had nothing to wear
but that idea made the suggestion appeal to us even more...
So...
Well Graham and I stripped off
ran towards the ocean
turned around to see our beautiful dates in all the glory that nature intended
only to be let down by the sight of them climbing into the car and driving off with our clothes
We had to run home about 3 miles
totally naked
totally embarrassed
Every time a car came past we would try to hide our embarrassment
but there was no where to hide
so we were greeted by catcalls
and laughter instead
it was the early hours of the morning
but believe me
try running naked down the road and you'd be surprised how many vehicles get out that time of night...

We eventually got back to Grahams house
it seemed the logical place to head for
he lived nearest to the beach
and we snuck around to the back door
gently unlocked it and tiptoed inside
we'd made it

'Hi boys
good night?'

His mom was there
I could have died
I never could look her straight in the eyes again after that...

Waters glisten
cool
inviting
directing you
to summer
praising at you feet
but hiding from four wheels...

summer offered so many alternatives
the list was endless
I'd always loved summer...

I remember these girls...
man...
They were hot...
They'd been down here on holiday that summer
and...
here was Graham with a bona fide letter from them in his hand
we didn't get letters
this was exciting...
And as a bonus the letter said

'Come to Lancaster
come visit...'

How could we resist?
but...
How could we get there?
We couldn't drive
well we could
but last time we had driven the LAPD had taken a bad view of it as we were to young to be doing it within the confines of the law...

Stupid things like that always seemed to bother them
they'd got pissed at me the time we'd gone into town and I'd died my hair with red food coloring and it had rained and all the red had run down my face and I'd laid down in the middle of an intersection
stopping all the traffic as they worried about this bleeding child
what was the problem?
We thought it was hilarious at the time...

And they'd got bugged by our initiation rites which including baring our asses of flyovers to cars below
well you gotta have some sort of entry test don't you?

But...
Well...
We decided that the underage driving wouldn't go down to well if we were picked up again
we'd got hammered by the courts the last time and we figured it was gonna be a long spell of incarceration if stopped again
so how could we get to Lancaster?

Dave...
We could ask Dave
he'd drive us
he was old enough
so we walked down the block to the pay phone and dialled him up

'Could you take us man?'

He wanted to know quite why we thought he'd want to drive us all that way...

'Well they got this pretty friend called Phillipa and she want's to meet you...'

He was hooked
we drove out there that Saturday

Dave was pissed when he found out that Phillipa didn't exist
and even more pissed when Graham accidentally managed to lock his keys in the car...
but we had a good day

Things always seemed sunnier when we were young...

I remember when I was so young
that I never saw a thing,
even when it wasn't there...
I even remember missing darkness...

Things moved on
like the summer itself...

Things started to get a little bad
I got into debt to Stallion
and...
well...
one day he decided to make an example of me
show what happens to people who don't pay debts
so he tried to burn me to death by burning down the disused swimming pool
(I figured to play dead and change my name was smarter than being killed)
incidentally there's a park named after me
(one of my false names)
that was named when they built the new park on the spot where I 'died' in that burning
building, I was a teenage hobo but much liked around that neighborhood...

So I moved on
moved across town
but trouble followed me there too
and when I boarded a train to leave town I thought that that would be the last I would ever see of Graham
people don't stay in my life for long
so I was used to it
but I left with a touch of sadness in my heart
things had been good
and I was going to miss him

But I needn't have been so down
as things worked out I ran back into Graham a couple of years later in another city
north of L.A

I was a little more crazy by then
and he the maturity had made him a little bit cooler
but the chemistry still worked
and we still lived in each others pockets
actually I was quite shocked one night when he told me he loved me
I hadn't been expecting that
but we were that close
if the situation had called for it
a genuinely believe that either one of us would have put our life on the line for the other
we were a unit
not two individuals...

But like I said
I was going kinda crazy
my recreational use of drugs had turned into a massive habit
I found myself walking along the canal two or three times a day to buy more
and I wasn't just buying at a hit a time

One thing I never liked though
about walking alongside city canals
or waterways
was the rats...
Crazy
aggressive rats
they didn't seem to be that timid around people
and would jump out all mad like
just as you were walking along

Now...
I have to confess that some of this phobia was my fault
most days
most nights
I was wasted
high on this
high on that
out my mind with something
and the...
well...
these rats just bugged me more when I was in that condition
they probably weren't so bad
not if you were straight
but I never was...

I told Graham about the rats
he laughed
he said shoot the fuckers
which...
I guess was a plan
but...
I ain't so into blood pursuits
I mean...
I am capable of the act
but why should I do it?
what was the point of it?
I'd rather not
I'd rather not kill anything
it's just so...

Anyway...
I ruled out the idea of killing them
but...
plan B was that I could shoot just over their heads
to scare them off
kinda rat riot control...
see?
I told you I was always high in those days
you gotta be taking some shit to come up with plan B
to arm yourself with a handgun
a big 9 mm canon
and then walk along a canal shooting over the heads of rats every 5 seconds
but it's what I ended up doing...

I got to carrying the gun with me everywhere
I don't know why
some sort of macho thing?
Everyone I knew carried a gun
half had used theirs
some had killed with theirs
some just used them in defence
it was a gun culture on the streets
I suppose I wanted a piece of it
it was a question of belonging
besides the things are so damn erotic
so fucking powerful
this piece of cold
smooth steel
so wonderful to touch
and so fucking powerful
it was like holding god in your hands
one gentle squeeze of it's trigger and you could take a life
you were in control
very erotic...

Cold Steel erection
fucking machine
fucking your life up
life and death
cold steel erection
so smooth
so smooth
and it's in my hands
masturbating glory...

I was on the edge
flying more and more
in stranger patterns
I could take anything
and make it crazy...

I remember one night
we'd been drinking
but then we always drank
always drank
and took drugs
and indulged in anything
to alter time
and space
and...
anything else we could bend
and shape
and incorporate
in our surreal world...
We'd been out since 10 am
and it was about...
am the next morning?
We'd just got back to Graham's
and we decided that we were hungry
so we decided to drive up to the gas station to buy some provisions
now...
I'm not the worlds greatest driver at the best of times
but give me 13 hours drinking time
and a whole host of drugs
and my driving deteriorate
some people believe they can drive better in that condition
but I reckon it's just their minds deceiving them
I mean...
fuck it...
I could barely walk
I couldn't control my own body
so how the hell was a supposed to control a big hunk of metal
that was driven by an engine?
You see?
This is why I was never a good driver
I was never straight for long enough to master it
and besides
my mind wanders to much
driving takes concentration
and there's far to much to see in the world
and to think about
to worry about driving...
nah...
I'll never be into it
Don't get me wrong
I like travelling in cars
awesome invention
but let someone else do the driving...

Mon Dieu
and why?
and where?
and all the time looking over the shoulder for the shit to start
and the road was hot and dry and dusty
golden sands blew across the way
and every moment was sun baked
and eternal
but just as soon as it had arrived it was gone again
the road was straight
and never ending
a repeated line of hard
against the soft of the desert
how can it be that way?
The desert is such a hard place
but made of soft
made of sand
made of warm
all the dreams you ever had
in a hard shell
and the car drove on
again
again
again
the scene never changing
but never quite the same
and all the time your telling yourself

'I'm not tired
I can keep going'

but maybe you'd fallen asleep a hundred miles before
or maybe not
and the seat stuck to your body
and your body stuck to your seat
and the sun glares in through the window
and blinds you
but the road is straight
and never ending
a repeated line of hard
against the soft of the desert

You don't need to see to drive
you only need to see to be alive
and you ain't alive
you're a ghost
against the torture of the day
sun gold background
ice cold dreams
and the beer would sink so sweetly right now
another gold
but a cool gold
a fools gold
that drifts you further to the sleep
and you hear a distant crying
and you know that you are dying
silhouetted against the desert
and...

Howl if you hear me
Howl if you're still alive
Howl like the beasts of this land

Anyway...
here we were
am in the morning
and on our way up to get some gas
the journey to the station was pretty uneventful
and I managed to pull onto the forecourt with little or no problems
Graham got out
and went to buy food
and I sat and waited...

He was only in the store for about five minutes
and then he came out
and decided that we should also fill up with gas
(I wasn't going to argue
it was his car...)
so I had to reverse up to the pump
but...
well I kinda missed
and instead of reversing up beside it
I kinda reversed into it

We panicked...
Drink driving is a crime
I would be busted if the cops arrived
and that wasn't a good idea
plus they'd probably want us to pay for damages
and that was no good
money was for getting out your head
not for giving to corporations
so we decided to drive off quickly instead...

Bad move...
you see...
well...
I hit the pedal
shot forward
but...
I'd forgotten that opposite the pump that I'd driven into was the shop part of the station
eeeek....
one plate glass window shattering
one stunned cashier
two scared customers...

Well...
we had no alternative
we jumped out the car
abandoned it
and ran away...

That's one advantage of never registering anything properly
you can just leave it when you fuck up...

But you see what I was getting at before?
A simple task like going to the gas station could easily be fucked up

I was on the edge
flying more and more
in stranger patterns
I could take anything
and make it crazy...

I really was on the edge of crazy
we didn't run back to Graham's
from the gas station
in shock
or horror
or remorse
or regret
we ran back laughing...

Silent thunder clap
as daylights fading
illuminated
by a dark tear
oil black
without the rainbow patination
and a hairs breath
from insanity
but the sanity is there
amidst a whirlpool
frightening whirlpool
of yesterdays
today's
and tomorrow's

The silent chorus of fear
echoes through the night
as it echoes through the day
caught on branches
that overhang the way
dark and grabbing
dark and grabbing
and all the children laugh
in their innocence
and all the people cry
behind their wall
hidden from the wisdom
of another live
of another live

And am I experienced?
am I alive?
or have I sailed a wind
of invisible dreams
touched by the unreality
of my own reality
touched by the morning
of my own night
where atoms of thought
burst within the dawn
of my understanding
my phoenix journey?
circle of eternity?

Have I the right
to scream out loud
to send my pain
to heavens
to stratospheres
unlived by you
unlived by me
unlived by dreams?
Have I the right
to hope
with hunger
for a smiling face?

I have crossed a thousand oceans
sometimes sleeping
sometimes awake
within the tempest nightmare
sometimes clinging on for life
sometimes letting go
and riding fast waters
and eddies
that drift me beyond the realms
which I was born to die in
and no silver plated tear
can save me
never
never...

And who am I
vulnerable
and tired
and weak
to try to grow
to try to live?
Do I have a right
to breath beyond my air
to breed beyond my cage
a battery hen
of mans design
for supplemation of a cracker farm?

How can I?
How can I?
How can I?

And every dream I ever saw
has faded
And every life I ever saw
has faded
And every light I ever saw
has faded
nowhere left to wander
no flag left to follow
no dream left to cling to
but insanity...

I remember sometime later
I was in Jail
it was some minor offence
but jail is jail
it doesn't discriminate
one year or life
your still locked behind the gray walls
still a prisoner
and they thought I showed signs of crazy
so they sent me for 'evaluation'...
I should have been in and out in a day
but...
well there was this guy there
he was a big ass mother fucker with the strength of ten men
a giant
and they shit their pants when he was around
now I'm dumb
in case you hadn't noticed
so I decided to talk to this guy
and discovered he was cool
a little...
slow
but cool
had a good heart
but sometimes got frustrated as he couldn't express himself properly
and that
coupled with their impatience and regimes led to his bouts of violence
but he was a good guy at heart
and...
well as I talked to him
and became his first ever real friend
I gained his trust
and learnt how to manage him in times of conflict
so instead of one day of tests and observations they kept me there for a few weeks
just for their safety
bastards...

You don't have to see me
to notice me
you can just step past me
dribbling in my corner
shouting out
"The pillow is a horse -
the flag is a peach"
Just wheel me in the day room
after breakfast
I'm happy there
lost in the fog
calling out
calling out
I don't need to be alive
as long as I can fool the agents
the machine
I'm happy there
you don't have to say hello
to look at me
to stop and care
you can just step past me
dribbling in my corner...

So here I was...
Mr Crazy with a gun
and getting crazier
and crazier
at first it wasn't to bad
I didn't think to much about the gun
if there was a problem I still resolved it in my usual ways
for example...
ummm...

Graham used to live close to the local mental institution
and one night I was out walking
I was going to the gas station to pick up some food
(the accident hadn't put me off going there still...)
and it was about 2 am or something stupid
I don't know what time it was
but I never did in those days...

However...
whatever the time
morning
noon
or night
here I was
in the dark
empty streets
walking past the mental institution on a mission for food when this car pulls up
there was four guys in the car
and three got out
one in front of me
and two behind
I remember thinking they looked big

The guy in front looked at me
and then said

'Give us your money'

Now...
I didn't have much money
and I was hungry
so I didn't like the idea of just handing it over to them
but...
they looked big
and I didn't like the idea of having my head kicked to a pulp...

'Sigh'

Life is so complicated...

I waited a second
looked at the guys eyes
and said

'You talking to me
or to my friend?'

and pointed at the empty space beside me

The guy looked at me with a puzzled expression and said

'huh?'

I ignored him and struck up a conversation with my imaginary companion

'what's that?'

I said
turning to the blank space

'I promise I won't
I promised I wouldn't do that again
it wasn't my fault anyway
it was the voices made me hurt them...'

The guy looked at me
he looked alarmed
he looked scared...
and then a voice came from behind me

'He's from in there
let's leave it...'

Not another word was said
the three of them got back in the car
and it drove off
I laughed
and so did Graham when I told him about it later
they must have thought they'd met some crazy straight out of some slasher horror movie...

And that was me
that was my way of dealing with things
but then the night came
the night I faced old demons...

If you know my story
if you've ever met me
known me
or read my words
you know I come from a violent past
but I've always tried not to go down that route
I've seen it
but I don't want to be a part of it
so what happened that night surprised me
I didn't know I had that in me
and I'm glad I've never seen it since...

I'd gone out on my own that night
I'd just broken up with this girl and was being anti social
I just wanted to get to falling over and unconsciousness
not to talk
or laugh
I guess I was taking things badly

Anyway...
I went to this bad bar
in a bad part of town
this place was rough
some bars have a reputation for being a rough bar
but the roughest bars don't have a rep
they're to bad for that...

I sat in a corner drinking
I was high when I walked in
so it didn't take long for me to get real shit faced
and then...

Well I don't really know what caused it
I can't remember the beginning of the dispute
I just remember standing up and telling this guy that he better watch his step
he laughed
I pulled the gun
aimed it as he head from about 4 inches away
and dared him to laugh again
he didn't...

I walked out the bar
I knew the second I'd pulled the thing that I'd made a mistake
I was unhappy with myself
and realised the power of the gun
I was drunk
I was crazy
and in a split second I'd put myself within 3 inches of killing a man
and I didn't want that
so I walked out of the bar
and along the path beside the canal
I walked on and on
until I found a nice dark spot
and then I threw the gun into the water
it's still there as far as I know
and I've never carried a gun since
nor do I plan to
there to dangerous
one moment of drunken temptation
one moment of rage
and you can kill a man
I don't want that on my mind...

Cold Steel erection
fucking machine
fucking your life up
life and death
cold steel erection
so smooth
so smooth
and it's in my hands
masturbating glory...

Those crazy days are behind me now
and so is the rage...

I didn't stay around town much after that
for one reason or another
I'd just about pissed off anyone who was anyone
and to stay around would have been suicide

I did try and hide out at Grahams for a while
but it wasn't going to work
I spent to much time hiding when people came to the door
and I didn't want to drag him down with me
so I moved on
snuck out the door one day when he was over at his girlfriends
and never looked back

I have met up with him on one occasion since
and he told me he had cried when he'd got back to the apartment and found me gone
but I explained to him that it was the way it had to be

Graham runs the business now
the one his dad had owned
and me?
I'm still the crazy drifter getting himself in a mess all the time
it wouldn't have been fair of me to stay in his life
it would have spoilt him
and like I said
we were that close
if the situation had called for it
a genuinely believe that either one of us would have put our life on the line for the other
and me moving on was just that
saving his life...

I remember going back to that city
I walked around for a while
tried
(and failed)
to find Graham
and then decided I wanted to get high
so I walked down the road from Graham's old place
past my old apartment
'cross the railroad yard
along the canal
just like I'd always done
and then through the parking lot
and into the bar
I was shocked
it was a fucking Starbucks
they'd redeveloped the neighborhood...

I know it probably was progress
nice shiny place
with pretty coffee machines
and no gangsters
no guns
and all the other shit
but it was soulless
lifeless
devoid of character
I preferred it how it used to be

I wonder where they shipped everyone off to...
I'm sure the redevelopment wasn't for the benefit of the locals
I'm sure they'd been priced out of the area into some new ghetto
somewhere...