Static

These times are strange, no they’re a mess. There’s this constant background hum coming up from my backside. I don’t know if it’s coming from inside my head or is it a demon creating this lingering static in the ether. There’s always been horrors, but today it grinds on and on through social media, newscasts and radio talkshows.  People are angry, living on the edge. We’ve become victims of a constant bombardment of bad news filtering into our psyche. People on the street wear the mask of emotional fatigue on their drawn faces. Where do we go from here? Everyone’s looking for a way to turn down the static. 

This is what pushed the pioneers west, the thought that somewhere,, somehow, someplace—-things have got to be better than this—-All the same, we tote our clutter and emotional baggage along with us. No matter where we go——there we are. There’s no escaping this house of mirrors. There’s no out running our shadow, but we can always change the stories we tell ourselves. We’re the star of our own life, why not make it a comedy rather than a tragedy. There’s no better time than now, no better place than here. The static grows louder.  I swiftly turn around, but there’s no one there——-“Huuuuummmmmmm——“ 

You’d think that after all the laws, politic’s and religion we’d be more civil and kinder to one another——-fat chance.  We have no choice but to seek solace in one another. We’re awful, deceitful, jealous and——-mean vermin. But at the end of the day, it’s too hard to go it alone. It’s only through tolerance and acceptance that we keep our companionships alive. We’re all uniquely the same——in irony there is truth.   

One time strangers become our friends and lovers, but then they slip away becoming strangers once again.  The longer we know someone the harder it is to see them anew. The rags of our past distorts “what was” with “what is”. 

I miss the peace that comes with silence.  It feels as though this static is growing louder——do you hear it too? “HUUUUMMMMMM——”

Turn the dial, change your frequency, adjust the station, fine tune your antenna away from the static——–and find your music.

Fuck Nashville

Dedicated to all those songwriters who’ve been written off, underestimated and overlooked. It’s for the outlaws, freaks, rebels, mutineers and renegade poets.

Turn on the radio

Country station playing crap

You can keep your country hip hop

And your cowboy rap

Chasing trends

Chasing dreams

Everyone trying to be

The next big thing

It’s all flash and flare

Manufactured stars

Songs spit shined and sold 

Just like used cars

Ya heard it in a song

Swore it’s’ written just for you

Pedal Steel crying

 Voice ain’t pretty, but it’s true

Heard it at the Ryman

And the Grand Ole Opry

You’ll know it when you hear it

Cause it sounds like country

These days, I swear

Johnny Cash couldn’t get a record deal

That’s why I’m here to say 

Fuck Nashville

This towns built on music

Child of gospel and blues

Country music is simple

Three chords and the truth

Call me old fashioned

Say I’m an old fool

Cause I still play Merle

Guess that makes me old school

I’m headed back home

This town don’t care for me

Play my music on my front porch 

With my friends and family 

Turn on the radio

Country music, is this what I get?

Every song sounds the same

Different twang, same old shit

Heard it at the Ryman

And the Grand Ole Opry

You’ll know it when you hear it

Cause it sound like country

These days, I swear

George Jones couldn’t get a record deal

That’s why I’m here to say 

Fuck Nashville

Magic

I can’t go back in time so I keep moving. My movement isn’t always forward, sometimes it’s backwards, sometimes in a circle. Movement offers me a false sense of progress. This life seldom dispenses second chances, it offers up lessons.  I keep moving, I keep reaching out.

It’s a lonely quest, scavenging through life in search of purpose, love and someone to relate to. To be understood is to be loved. To expect to be understood is “crazy”. If you want to be loved in spite of all your weird idiosyncrasies and foibles, adopt a rescue dog. If you want to be exploited and abused, allow a cat to adopt you…Relationships are built on such subtle differences. Friends will change without telling you, others may ghost you for unknown reasons and some pass away never to be seen again———at least not in this life.

I worry, “Did I let everyone I love know how much I appreciate them in my life (Note to self, tell everyone I appreciate them in my life, excluding those occasional assholes). I fret over the thought that perhaps I never let my parents know how much I respected and loved them. We become so accustom to our parents unconditional love, that it’s easy to take this gift for granted. My parents stuck by me, in-spite all my stupid life decisions. Time goes by quickly, words are free, don’t hold back——let those you care for, know how much you love them.

These days I lack a meaningful connections with others,…….Maybe I could better define this malady as a disassociation syndrome. In other words, so many things no longer fit together—My “Why’s” far out weigh my “How’s”……..The veneer of this thing called reality is wearing thin. Everything seems so unreal and strange to me. I stumble about thinking, “Is this the way things are supposed to be?” “Is this the way I supposed to be?” We all have our own brand of craziness, we just become comfortable by wrapping it in our own private shiny distractions. If you don’t know how the trick is done, then it’s magic——misdirection, sleight of hand, illusion, Love?? Life??

Love, The More You Give, The More You Get

She likes rain at midnight

Sound of wind through the tree’s

A train whistle in the distance

And lying in bed next to me

She loves the smell of the ocean

The sound of breaking waves

We watch the sun go down together

On such a beautiful day

It doesn’t get any better than that

You got my heart, baby I got your back

From sunrise

To sunset

Love

The more you give

The more you get 

She likes when the leaves change their colors

As the seasons come and go

She picks wildflowers in spring

I build her fire when it snows

Through the years we made a home

All those memories I recall

Through the good times and the bad 

Together, we made it through them all 

It doesn’t get any better than that

I got your heart, baby you got your back

From sunrise

To sunset

Love

The more you give

The more you get 

King Of Sorrow

It’s mid October, the season that gives way to the beauty that comes with the death of a fading summer.  Leaves turn golden, red and purple before being swept away in the autumn winds. Outside its dark and cold, the sun surrenders its dominion over the sky earlier and earlier, this relieves me of the guilt of fixing myself a drink too early, but as we all know, there’s always an excuse for drinking. I hear the faint fizz of carbonation over ice cubes——my oh my, Jameson and Ginger-ale in my favorite tumbler.

It’s the season of tangled sheets, as ghosts whisper under beds and the hellhounds bay up at an angry moon.  I swear I hear the footsteps of shadowy specters moving across the creaking hardwood floor.  The doorknob to my closet appears to be slowly turning. I foolishly decide to step deeper into this nocturnal quicksand. There’s something bittersweet about allowing my darker angels to run loose. I flip through my playlists and click on “Sade”. God almighty, her music always takes me there. It’s got that hypnotic groove that’s made for soul searching, lovemaking——it’s drenched in unrepentant sensuality. The beat pulls me into a grinding pocket. I feel like having a cigarette, but I had to give that up over a decade ago, it’s always the hardest thing to give up on something that you know you’ll remorselessly love forever——and she taught me——forever is a long time!

Some woman know they have it from an early age and they carry it with them through old age.  She has it, she knows how to use it——-she exudes a steamy erotic energy. It affords her an unfair advantage. “It” has nothing to do with beauty or flash, it’’s in the way her body moves through space, it’s that certain look in her hungry eyes. Her heated body radiates the fragrance of lust. When her hand nonchalantly brushes up against my skin, it’s as if a million volts of electricity convulses through my body.  All those other bland pretty girls have no lightening in their soul; they leave no ache in those empty places, no burn in ones darkness. 

The prisons and insane asylums are filled with men who’ve let this black magic rule them, clouding their better judgement and making them do the bad things they never thought they were capable of doing.  I search through a junk drawer and find a single crippled cigarette, I rip off the bent filter and take a deep drag and then slowly exhale the blue smoke. It hangs in the air, mysteriously taking the shape of a maligned dragon. I feel myself going back on things I swore I’d never do. I scroll through my phone contacts and wonder if her number is still the same. The thought of her warm damp voice invades my nervous system with a shot of adrenaline, causing my hands to tremble. I hesitate with my finger hovering over the green call button. “King Of Sorrow” begins to play on my mix. 

All Those Pretty Words

Lying in my bed, fetal position
Under the covers, of my bad decisions


Just when I thought, I had it figured out
This emptiness once again, fills me with doubt


Here I am, alone again
Not even my pride, left to defend


There’s a mirror, inside of me
Is who I am, what you really see


All my pretty words, now waisted
Poems and promises, I thought would save ya 
Loves a bitter word, our hearts have tasted
Find what you love, and watch it break ya


Once again, I’ve laid myself bare
What this world thinks, Hell, I no longer care


Apologies, sleeping inside us all
Like broken words, now tired and oh so raw


Lets pretend it all never happened
We’ll hide our sadness, behind nervous laughter


Footsteps creaking, on wooden floors
Your ghost whispers, behind my closet door


All those pretty words, now waisted
Poems and promises, I once gave ya
Loves a bitter word, our hearts have tasted
Find what you love, and let it break ya

We All Need Love

Love and fear
Tangled again
Love like a home
We want to live in


Faith and courage
Shadows I’ve been chasing
I’m getting older
No time, to be wasting


It’s a hard life
Lessons I’ve been learning
All my mistakes
Silently burning


No matter what anyone says
We all need love
To whatever god you’re praying
Be kind to one another—-is all I’m saying


Happy endings
Ashes and sin
What we wish for 
Isn’t always what we’re given


Every days a dream
I’m letting go
Of being somebody
I no longer know


Brush strokes on a canvas
Water colors bleeding
A thousand winding roads
Back to me, they’re all leading


No matter what anyone says
We all need love
To whatever god you’re praying
Be Good to one another—-is all I’m saying

A Freak Like Me

Around her neck, she wore a silver chain and a locket
Then laughed and showed me, a rainbow hidden in her pocket


She said such strange things, you see
Cause she’s a poet, dreamer, she’s a freak like me


Long walks conversations in the dark
All about those friends and lovers, who left thorns in our hearts


With you, I share my secrets and my shame
And for me, I know you did the same


There’s no more me, there’s no more you
Now there’s just one, where there once was two


Is this how friends, learn to trust
Is this what makes lovers, give into lust


Word warriors, spilling ink and blood
Troubadour singing sad songs, sad songs of love


Soul soldier, silent defender
Now all my prayers and letters, returned to sender


Whispered these things, to my mystic girl
And for a moment, we shared a hidden world


There’s no me, there’s no more you
Now there’s just one, where there once was two