Friday, April 26, 2013

Nightmare Claustrophobia

Here is the tomorrow that they promised
blocked away by a multitude of different strokes,
Some quick and some baffling,
We think we know but we only know what we think we can,
And we waltz toward the door in systematic synchronization,
And break off the bigger bite of the dog that could not chew,
A hall for hellions who shout hellfire hellish words at the top of their demonic lungs
Pleading to be let loose in the back of the bus,
Save the children,
Break the strand and don't let the strangers see you running for the hills or you will find yourself looking out through the utmost worst possible scenario that you can not fathom without breaking apart your walls and discovering the truth that lies behind the walls, and realize that this is a lie,
God is searching the sea of sand,
Asking simple questions to the deserters in the desert deserting the desert world in favor of something that the desert deserter deems not worthy of desertings,
And we can figure this shit out,
If we we shout loud enough but thats where things get bogged down in regret and misdemeanors,
We put the mantle in the lock, and place the skin of the world on the chopping block, peeling it off as it peels and keels on over into death but back into life,
When we do not grant the world a whole lot more than we want,
Kiss the toad, and slay the frog,
Cheese and Rice surprise prepared and portioned by Jesus Christ,
The front line is frantic and feeble minds fumble the football in downtown heaven,
Just past the skyscraper citadel where the little white lies go on over the moon and man made mushrooms take a back seat to the willow whisps that light the way with fire light, burning down the forest flats just so that we can see the sunrise,
Fuck the monkeys and hte birds, and those bee's on the tale end of a new fairy tale,
This is the ends of a start to the conclusion of a beginning and the real stories fake prose will lead the way as they follow the leader to the port of origin just past the destination.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

The Figment - first few pages rough draft.


Chapter ~ONE~

If there was one thing Adam wished more than anything was that the food in the hospital tasted a little better.  The decison to commit himself was a no brainer but couldn't they have just had better food than what they had.  He was thinking over these same thoughts as he stood in the line like he was in prison and the mush of mashed potatoes was poured onto his tray and nearly knocked from his grip by the burly looking woman on the other side of the buffet like counter.   Adam glared at her only for a moment and turned his eyes away in fear of planting a rail road spike in her temple.  He couldn't have done it if he wanted to now.  Not with how medicated he was, and that had been the whole point.   He dug his spoon in like a shovel and sipped the soupy potatoes like a cream of mushroom soup.  The potatoes were the same density as the gravy that was suppose to be covering them.
Adam's roommate Tre sat next to him and shoveled the food into his mouth optioning to a more savage approach to eating the inedible than Adam's proper posh way.  They both cut into their salsibury steak around the same moment, if it could have even been called that.  The meat was so processed like a banquet TV dinner, and Adam even fantasized that they bought the microwave meals in bulk, and in secret opened them and sectioned them off in the back of the kitchen.  As the gravy and meat slid on his tongue and was mashed between his teeth, and eventually swallowed down, Adam surmised that a Banquet TV dinner would have been a step up from this shit.
"Still crazy?"  Tre asked him.  Tre was a small man, mexican and illiterate.  One didn't have to go with the other, but Tre was that way.  They had brought him in days afer Adam had strolled in, and Adam knew that Tre didn't know what the doctor and his relatives were having him sign.  He wasn't sure what Tre had done to deserve to be isolated and locked away from his family, but one thing was certain Tre had unknowingly incarcerated himself here.
Adam spoke no words and only nodded that he indeed was still crazy, and Tre laughed and munched on some more fake meat, and swallowed it down.  Whatever Tre had to do in his head to make him love this food, Adam wished he could have done it, but the weathered Mexican man looked as though his food made him feel pure bliss.  Here Adam was however staring down at his food, slowly cutting it in different direction to section of a square with his plastic spork, and he had no intention of giving himself indigestion.
About them the cafeteria hall which doubled as the therapy hall, and craft hall was full of similar people.  Similar to Tre perhaps, but none of them remotely resembled Adam's issues.  There were people here who maybe sought some sort of safety that this hospital may have provided, and there were those here who didn't want to be here.  There were suicidal men, and anorexic boys, and battalions of bi-polar abusers who struck at their girlfriends and struck out three times, and were remanded here.   Adam felt safe amongst all these psyches, against the backdrop of all of these mommy and daddy issues, because Adam had daddy and mommy issues to.  Still, none of it held a light to anything.
Tre spoke again, "Are you going to watch that game tonigh'?"  Tre was referring to the Tigers game that would be playing in the social hall where the catatonics were wheeled to view the thirteen inch tv through a cell of metal bars.  Similar metal bars that graced the windows of liquor stores in rough neighborhoods.  Adam again didn't say anything and shook his head that he wouldn't be watching the game.
"That's too bad it's going to be a good one."  Tre said proudly as he swallowed the last of his steak and then began eyeing over to Adam's plate.  Without words as they always did the past few months Adam pushed his plate to his right and Tre thanked him and began going to town on the nearly full servings on Adam's plate.
"Good to see you gentleman getting along."  Doctor Wendell was strolling down the empty spaces between the picnic like tables with his clipboard held to his chest folded in both arms.   Tre and Adam looked up at him absently and Doctor Wendell grinned a stupid grin, and pointed at them while keeping his arms folded.  "I have two teenage boys at home, and they could learn a thing about sharing from the two of you."  Then he laughed and not really hoping to engage in conversation continued walking down the table and found more people to act all pleased and happy towards.
Tre shrugged and continued eating his food.  "If you aint watchin' the game, what you gonna be doin then?"  he said between bites.
"Reading."  Adam said.  He had recently acquired a copy of The Great Gatsby from one of the oderlies and after they called lights out he'd use his pocket light to read in the dark.  Adam would pull the blanket over his head, and read this way ever since he was a boy.  There was something safe and familiar about it that he would return to that action even in his adult life.  He was another night away from finishing Fitzegeralds masterpiece, and he thought it was mildly overrated.  Tonight he planned on reading by daylight.
"Sounds boring."  Tre said before taking his styrofoam cup of water and downing it within seconds.   The mexican man wiped his mouth with his arm and slapped Adam on the back and said, "Let's get to it," and Adam rose and walked with him through the sea of crazy people clothed all in light blue hospital gowns and pants.  Adam knew where Tre was leading him, they would walk out of the multi-purpose room and down a hall of barred windows, and the orderlies Jessie and Kirk would unlock the recreation room, and Tre would lift weights.
Adam and Tre wouldn't say much to one another during the walk, and Jessie and Kirk were laughing and joking with one another as the grizzled twenty something, and the gruff mexican man approached.   There was a moment as Jessie moved to unlock the door where Adam would look at himself in the window of the door.  His reflection would look back at him, tired, and world-weary, and overgrown with facial hair.  His reflection would beckon him back to reality, back to his troubles, back to his reasons.  Then the door would be opened and those thoughts would fade away as Tre said something in spanish and walked into the weight room.
"I'm going to go with da thirty's today."  Tre said to Adam but Adam wasn't paying attention, he sat on the floor under the giant window that overlooked the courtyard, and the basketball courts.  That windo also barred with heavy black bars.  Adam never looked outside, for fear of missing the world.  He feared that he'd relinquish his resolve and sign himself out, and endanger the world again.  He'd sit on the floor and watch Tre huddled over the weight bench passing each way back and forth the veins in his rigid arms popping out ready to explode.  Adam wasn't watching Tre really though, he was watching the space infront of Tre.  The empty air like a wall obscuring his view of the scarred mexican man's face.   In truth he saw nothing in that space but white light.  The only sign he had of knowing Tre was there were the grunts and groans he gave off during his repts.  Minutes would go by, and then hours.
Tre's fingers would snap just centimeters from Adam's nose, and Adam would look up and take his roommates hand, and he would be pulled up to his feet.   "Maybe you should try lifting next time."  Tre said to him.  Adam wouldn't.
Jessie and Kirk had been replaced by Avery and Jordan at the rec rooms door, a sign of the change over in shifts, a sign of the time that Adam was losing here.   These young men said nothing to the pair and when the patients cleared the way they began talking about the slut in the woman's ward, a nurse not a patient.
Doctor Wendell was hugging his clipboard as he strolled down the halls peaking into rooms, and waving to each new person who passed him.   When he saw Adam and Tre approaching, he plastered his smile on, "Mr. Alvarez, and Mr. Hoyt."  He said extending an open hand.  Tre shook it but Adam did no such thing, and looked out the window on his left but not really looking outside, but at the space between himself and the outside, the absent white light that existested in his minds eye.  "Well," the doctor continued, attempting to ignore Adam's absent attitude, "I look forward to our sessions tomorrow.  8'o'clock sharp."  He gave Adam an uneasy look and patted Tre's shoulder as he passed.
Tre looked on after here, and muttered something in spanish and then in english said, "Quack.  Think's he's speaking to fourteen year old fags or somet'ing."  Adam wasn't sure what that was suppose to mean, but he knew Tre would elaborate, "You know can't deal with the fact they are sucking off grown men, so they slit their wrists."  They had been walking on a little ways but stopped in front of the door that led to their shared room.   "Are you sure you don't want to watch the game with me and the vegetables?"
Adam chuckled to himself, and nodded, "I'm sure," and he entered the room while Tre continued walking down the hall.   As soon as the door shut behind him Adam felt relief, ever since Tre had arrived he had been glued to Adam extensively.   If Adam took a shit Tre would wait outside the stall or the bathroom's door, and at breakfast, lunch and dinner.  Adam was thankful that the mexican didn't expect a complex conversation, and the man never bothered to pester Adam to reply to him.  So once in awhile Adam would actually use words to oblige his roommate.
There he was in perfect silence, in perfect isolation, in a white room.  With windows small and high up on the walls nearly touching the ceiling so that he could not see what was beyond the walls.   The shawdow of the bars were planeted on the wall oppossitte resting against the door.  The light making the shadows create bars that appeared far more massive than they actually were.  The shadows making the room look like the prison it actually was.  He was secure.  He was safe from himself here.  And he felt absolutely numb, he didn't ask what drugs they were giving him.  He stood in line afer breakfast every morning, and dragged his feet like every one else toward the nurses station.  The lovely ladies behind a plexi-glass barricade guarding the pills and syringes, the uppers and the downers and everything inbetween.   As he laid down as the dusk sky turned the room from a pale blue hue into a thick orange one he reminist of the feeling those pills would return to him in the morning.  Now they feeling was fading, and his mind was pondering too much.   His head was wandering, becoming bored and ansy seeking to escape the prison he willingly stayed in.
Adam laid calmly on his back staring up at the naked bulb dangling far above him from the ceiling.   The light was not on, and Adam reached behind him under his pillow and presented himself with The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzegerald.  He flipped to his place somehwere toward the end as marked by a straw wrapper, and the piece of paper floated down onto his chest, and he began reading.   As the natural light left the room he was finishing up a page and the next would be the last, but he would not stand to turn on the light overhead.   The light piercing past the bars was all the light he would allow himself for this reading, and when it was gone, he searched the darkness for the straw paper and placed at the place in the book that his middle finger secured open.  Then the work was returned to its place under his pillow.  Sometime after unable to be burdened with thought, he fell quickly to sleep.

Doctor Wendell was leaning back in his chair, his hands folded in his chest, his distasteful enormous desk seperating Adam and himself.   "Why are you here Adam?"  The doctor asked him.  Adam did not respond.   He turned his gaze toward the window just over the doctors head, and it did not have bars in it, and the walls were not the white brick of the rest of the facility, they were wooden, and certificates of education were plastered on them.   Wendell was well educated, but Adam didn't care.
"Can you hear me Adam?"  Doctor Wendell asked him.  "I can sit here as long as you need, but we have done this for two months now, three sessions a week.   You are a persistant young man.  But I can handle it Adam, I assure you.  If you need to sit here and look at the sun, you can.   But if I'm allowing you something, it's only right to return the favor."  Doctor Wendell sat forward and placed his folded hands on the table, "I talked to Mr. Alvarez about you.  Well, he wanted to talk about you.  He's very fond of you, but he worries.  He says you don't have fun.  I hope you know what an influence you are in Mr. Alvarez's life.  He considers you like family."
Adam had looked up at this.  And seeing a response in his patient Doctor Wendell continued, "When you first came here, you were obviously suffering from some very severe trauma.  You were dressed in unflattering clothes, you hadn't bathed in days.  You were for all intent and purposes homeless.   You do understand that I am the one who has allowed you to stay at our facility here, I took legal chances keeping you.  You know what you told me when you first came here, when you spoke to me, when you were weeping at our doors.  You said you were scared of yourself.  You did, and I have to ask you are you still scared of yourself?"  Doctor Wendell waited for a response, like a man waiting for his girlfriend to say yes or no to his marriage proposal, the doctor was hoping for a breakthrough, but Adam then turned his eyes away.  "You are here of your own fruition Mr. Hoyt, but if you are a resident of this hospital you must try to help yourself.  Otherwise, what is it you are doing here.  We are here to rehabilitate people, you can't want to stay cooped up in here forever.  What possible good would that do?"
"Can I go now?"  Adam said as he looked to his right at the clock in the center of the wall.
Doctor Wendell surprised but disappointed looked at his watch and absently dismissed Adam from his office.  "Please think of something to share next time Mr. Hoyt," he said as he packed a pile of papers together.
Adam had no intention of doing such a thing and he left the office door open as he exited and strolled down the snow white hallways.

Friday, April 5, 2013

Buy One Get One

As we grow older, we may grow apart,
But it is only a physical distance,
Inside we are still near,
On the other side of a doorway,
Laughing, and crying,
Feeling the joys and the pains creaking down the stairs,
Even when their bodies are not even there,
From the same womb entering into the same world,
But walking a similar line,
Maybe only a little bit, kind of, sort of askew,
fathers and mothers,
brothers and sisters,
daughters and sons,
All around you,
Even when the you is askew,
Feeling it all from the pillow on the bed,
Two sepearte homes,
Two very different beds,
Different children, different wives,
But still the same smile, the same child like eyes,
Jokesters every day, when there was time to play,
Working s hard as they can,
For each and every day,
Supporting and pushing,
Football loving and then some,
Similar recliners,
In different rooms,
Yappy dog lovers,
And chicken eaters,
All you can eat buffets,
The old switcheroo,
Which man is who,
Child like wonder, in grown men's eyes,
the yin and the yang
the two for one sale,
the tim and the tom.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

The Familiarty of Nonsense Words

The blanket is cold and the people are whispering, and the simplistic nature of life is overcast with rain clouds of despair,
People flock by in birds eye views into the souls of a witless world that focuses on the tasks and not the procedures,
Locked in a fight to struggle with deception and favor each other with the kindness that we can muster, forcing it up even though it should come simply,
Helplessly regurgitating the simplicity into a cataclysm of formidable talents that go wasted on foolhardy individuals,
And long lost lovers tossing and turning upon sea sick suffering captains ships that go tossing and flying against the gargantuan waves of misanthropes,
While the loud howl of a passing wind pressures the submarines to dock in the caves that rest under a rugged mountain, and hallowed out under the stairs,
Where the joys of joys reside but are buried while the blankets grow cold and the kittens cry out in the sleet and the snow, and the freezing rivers overflow,
Overcast the weather may seems, but deep above and far below the planets align and the sun spots tear apart our atmospheres,
Do not scream we will survive this ordeal, for we walked on the moon and we only did it a few times, but that's all we've done,
And all we brought back were moon rocks.