Laundry List of the Troubled Mind

Hello there friends and lovers
What lies will you spread about me
What fiendish things prance around in your mind
What devilish inclinations do you ponder
How far will you go with you declerations
How much do you hope to achieve
And how will you fair if by the end of this day,
You are not fairing at all
When does the graciousness give way to blackmail
When do endless lists become listless ends
When do men care to forget
If granted the power to destroy,
Would you take up arms against me
Why in all the earth and heaven
Why is all this so innert
Why are the seasons getting shorter
And why are my shoulders down there
This last resort you put me on
This pedestal you broke
This cretin who follows orders
This monster who doesn't want to
Give him candy and cigarettes
Pry the pipe from his fingers
If by the end he's angrier
It isn't just for show and tell
There will is another story there
In the middle of the asteroid field
In the midst of a train collison
In the minds of all those do-gooders
I was one of the do littles
Sitting idly by on the sidelines
Staring blankly into space
Keeping both ears wide and open
Caring not to bend the grass
Listening to the calls of wild fowl
Spying on birds with my glasses
Taking notes and eating them
Digesting all that was leftover
Formulating an idea and geting lost in the words
Keeping things in check long enough
To burn up the return receipt
Tampering with evidence
Just for tamperings sake
Just to say I could.

Fabled Letters

If by the time you read this I am long and gone
Do not forget to write me
Send it care of post to one who is lost
And deposit the change in the appropriate slot
Wait as long as you need to
Spy outside the window for the right amount of time
Let the light on, and make sure to shower
Spare your eyes the strain of staring on
Take a fortnight to spend with friends and family
Let the call signs on the side of the courier jet
Never enter into your imagination
Assume that it was sent on time
And don't alleviate your stress by stating the obvious
Communicate with everyone you can
In the mean time do not forget your friends
Do not lose your lovers
Distraction can cause a system of doubt
That will filter through the filters
Cause the mind to think the worst
If you feel a slight flush in your cheeks
And a quickening in your heartbeat
It is a side effect of your lack of patience
And when your friends wonder where you've gone
You'll tell them you found cause
Where you do nothing but worry
And dream of the delivery
Your writing is on the wall
And I am gone
Still waiting on the side of some road
It was never going to reach me
I was always going to be here
Right on the other side of the street
Willing to communicate when you were
But the lines of communication were ended
Casual permeation causes a swelling in your cheeks
And the charisma of the letters are over
Lost in the wind of a storm that took them away
Lastly in your stance
You'll wonder yourself with worries
That worried you to death.

Focus on Distraction - A Short Story

When Catherine Graton awoke that morning she hadn't realized she forgot to brush her hair.   It was about three snoozes in to her alarm that she had even gotten up and by that time she was going to be later for work than she liked to be.  In an ideal world she would arrive twenty minutes before she needed to clock in, but as it were she'd be lucky to make it within five minutes if she were to stick to her normal routine.   It was decided a shower wasn't necessary she had spent forty five minutes on the treadmill the night previous and therefore washed herself immediately following.   Due to the strictness of her diet she decided that passing up on her peppered cottage cheese and toast would not be the most advisable thing so with the shower part of her morning routine removed she proceeded into this next step.   As she took the last few bites from her sparingly buttered toast she glanced to the digital clock on her microwave and realized that she was still going to be cutting it close.   The last remaining grains of pepper were licked from the back of her teeth, and the taste was enough to guide her into the bathroom.  Not even here, however, did she even realize that her hair was unkempt.   As if guided by a magnetic force her eyes were stuck to her bathroom counter surfaces as she lifted up her toothbrush and floss and went to work on her teeth.   It was while the toothbrush was in her mouth that she ventured over to her medicine cabinet and prepared her bottle of mouthwash.   She rinsed her mouth and spit and ventured back into her bedroom.   Despite knowing that she'd be at the latest on time to her job she still moved at a frantic pace, still determined to make an impression, still intent on going above and beyond the simplest amount of effort.   And as she finally zipped and buttoned up her pants and stretched out her legs and touched her toes so that everything fit comfortably she then collected her keys and made her way to the SUV that sat in her garage.   As the light from outside shown through the opening that the elevating garage door let in she paused a moment staring at the vehicle.   It was a moment that overtook her often and she sighed a deep sigh and climbed inside.   Her hair was still a mess.

There was no music played on the way to work.   No talk radio boring her to death, and obviously no irritatingly long stretches of advertisements.   Not even the sound of empty static.   Just the near silent engine accelerating and decelerating.  Just the hint of a squeak in her brakes as she came upon every stop sign and every red light.  As she looked at the digital read out on her SUV's radio she was calm in the realization that she would be ten minutes early for work.  It was a great relief to her because for a moment she could take in that despite the possibility of a horrible start to this ordinary day she had beat the horribleness.  Things were working out.  They had to work out.  The towering office building she was employed at began to form on the horizon as it stretched just above the other bland office buildings.   It was in this moment that she reflected, and sighed again.   It was going to be a ten hour work day, and that was by her own choosing.   She had indeed decided that she she needed as much work to keep her busy, and had requested the work load despite her employer offering some protest to her taking on the amount she wanted.  The truth was she enjoyed it, she was occupied in being overwhelmed.

It was here that she pulled into the parking lot of her work.   Unfastened her seat belt and let it retract back into its station.   Catherine opened the door and the familiar ding rang out to let her know that once again she'd left her keys in the ignition.  She wasted no time and retrieved them.  As she stepped out and slammed the SUV's door she threw the strap of her purse over her shoulder and walked on to the thick tinted glass doors that were the entrance to her next ten hours.    But as she approached she saw the reflection walking closer to the doors, and the tangle and web of her hair was evident.   A disaster.  She contemplated turning around, and then rummaged a hand about in her purse to see if she had brought a hair brush with her, but gave up knowing that it wasn't in there.  It wouldn't have been.  She had a routine, so there had been no reason for her to fix her hair, ever.   This wasn't right, the wrong of it all blew over her and her knees gave out and she stumbled a moment catching herself on the edge of the sidewalk in front of her building.   She righted herself and sat wide eyed with worry.

In front of her was the SUV she had rode in on.  The one her husband used to drive, the one she had repaired after the accident.   The accident that had taken him from her.  In that empty parking lot she stared at it refurbished and alone, and then she looked over at the shabby mess of her hair and she knew she was still broken.

Word Puzzle

Packed like a can of sardines that swam simply through the sanctified and saturated salt water sea

A tin of precocious predicaments that are padded permanently with peach fuzz and pencil lead

For as fifty freaking Fridays flip by in fast and rapid succession the frying fryers fixated on forcing forks into the toaster

Denting the delightful dogs who dragged their tails drastically down beneath the dented ice

Hoping to hospitalize the can of hopeful horrid fish who hopped skipped and jumped like hellions home for Halloween

Reciting idioms to the idiots who independently instigate irritating sight gags so that ink blots go inking for an inkling of icebergs

Before the fable baffles buffaloes who break down in bee hives just because the bats bother bears who bear beards that are never bathed

Asking the antelope to ask anteaters if anti-lions act like assholes for absolving abominable appetites that feast on April apples from ancient Antioch

Lying lividly against licorice colored lollipops, licking the lycanthropes who lick lightly town the length of a leopard coat

Hot on the heels of can of sardines that hastily heeds the hated and heated warning of a heep of hyenas who hoop and holler like hot blooded hell raisers

EXplaing the eXcellent eXecution eXperienced by the ineXperienced eXaminer who eXamines eXistential eXistences under an eXciting eXcavation

Good god grants good gods to grieving goats who gather grapes for griping granite gravel 

Mourning the melting mold that makes them miniature garbage grabbers that garner no guiding glee from goofy gags

Sit Down and Shut Up

But if the pain ends, what will they complain about
If bitterness is absolved as well as their sins, what will they fret upon
When all is said and done they needed the sandess as much as they needed the love
For without one to the other who would release the breath
And so it goes that the fools call off, shouting obscenity after obscenity
Because the fucking assholes chose not to give a shit about their little girl, and her untied shoes
Because those bastards sat around pissing on their parade, so damn them for their carelessness
Who in good faith, dear sirs
Who tore her laces in two
It was the fools you are, and the fools you are who let it get this way
And as shadows form to fall you will always blame the light
Never caring to remove the obstacles so that there is only light
You needed something to talk about
Or else you'd have no need for your tongue
Not even for tasting, you just needed it to spew out your bile
Nine out ten times we are doing this to ourselves
Claiming we can not control the eruption as it boils to the surface
When we could have placed a cap on it,
Dissolved it under mountains of misty water
And pinches of morning dew
But we poured out the water and hid it in our shadows
And then claimed we did not know where it'd gone
It was always there, right there attached to our hips
Cutting in like barbed fish hooks through the fatty tissue of our skins
A constanty agony that reminded us that we could have stunted this fire
Instead of feeing it and panicking when it drove the animals away
Made our friends rush off for fear of burning fiercely
So without me who would you have to compare your triumphs
And all of those losses,
without me who could you look down upon
We are cockroaches yet some want to put on hats and shoes
and claim they are men
but only insects are as simple,
Only the simplest beings would think this would make them more
That they can change the world by shouting out slogans
And liking lost causes,
While they relax on their sofas getting high off anything they could find
Surrounding themselves with other world changers
Who won't ever get up to change the garbage
Let alone make a dent in the troubles and woes of the masses
Kiss my ass with your false sainthood,
I'd rather you sit solemnly than pretend to play peace keeper
You give as many shits as they do,
They are just more honest than what you think are two goody-two shoes
Don't forget to laugh
When the rest of the world still is crying.

Popularity Thanks to Tragedy

There's a smile on her face

As she weeps into her bowl

The cereal milk converges with tears

And the condo's are a fire

Just across the courtyard

But no one is screaming

And while she inserts spoon into mouth

Feasting on her self

The cataclysmic events unfold

As the fireman come just to watch

And the building slowly comes down

To a pile of smoldering ash

Yet she continues to smile

Keeps on eating herself

And then despite her best efforts the tears subside

Then a sinking feeling enters the pit of her stomach

As the acid rain eats away at the rubble

And she spits it all up

Tears and cheerios

Back into her bowl and she wanders on over

Staring out the window still

Her hand resting on the window sill

As the firemen smoke cigarettes

Laughing at each others jokes

The rage inside is driving her insane

Since no one is placing blame

There has to be something more to this

She knows it

But back then just moments ago

She was content to sit in silence

In tears and milk

Letting it burn down with indifference too

It is plain to see the bodies down below

No one is caring

And she never did

Until she ran out of nothing to do

Just like all of you.

Sitting and Looting

Let the record state that he did not commit this crime
He was laying in his home on a hard wood floor
Watching the latest news on the history channel
Channel surfing through the exact spots he'd been before
Pausing only briefly then coming back for more
Circles and circles that go around and around
To no ones surprise he is utterly forgettable
Lacking all his motor skills as he slips away into oblivion
No matter the cost of pay per view
He will dream of everything under the sun
While the waning moonlight passes once again
Determined to float on his cloud till its over
But the television static keeps his mind shocked
Keeps his blankets too warm to cover with
As the cold essences of night and winter bleed into his skin
He will shiver while sports casters review the week
Lying about their favored influences
Commiting sins as they rattle off insults to the institutions that allowed them to exist
and he will shake in place distracted by the sound of the passing track stars
Training in the summer while they hustle from block to block
Keeping in shape in little short shorts
But he has no time to watch the view
He's busy turning it from channel one too two
Little by little the termite mounds build
Molding into the houses that are digested still
His home and he's been getting older
But no more bolder as they begin to eat his toe nails
For there is nothing left but he
He and his television
He and his cable equipment
Everything is on
But none of it means shit
And when the hopeless romantics pass him by
Trying to take pity on him
He will shoo them off
Haven't not bathed for days
His eyes are glued to a commercial
Featuring some famous star
Just lying through their teeth.

Straight and Narrow Nevermind

In yesteryear 

He had a tingle of anticipation

Behind his eyes

But he didn't heed the call

He stuck to his studies

Bound his eyes to the road

And seldom greeted his neighbors

He wandered onward

On a direct path

Oblivious to the beauty and the horror

That unfolded alongside

But he continued on

Not caring

For never seeing

He had no time to be repulsed

Or to want it

His goals were set

And so were his ways

That when he was old and feeble

He was indeed chronic

Chronically infeebled

Embarassingly un-peopled

Not knowing left to right

Only front and forward

Sitting up straight

And never slacking off

Seldom taking time

For any jacking off

Desposited in his ways

So that at the end of his days

He was worthy of nothing

But his own reward

So with a shrug

A pat on the back

And a world weary sigh

He mustered up the courage

To look behind

And he cried

Swallowing a lump in his throat

But despite wanting it all now

As hard as he tried

To walk backward

He coulnd't make it there

He fell on his knees and begged and begged

But he couldn't be heard

For the maker was busy

Making joy for the weary.

Materialistic Outrage

Take the collections of the collectors
Put them in a toaster
Melt them down and bake them
Crusted and feeble they fall against the sand
And when they come back for them
The people are lost and confused
Miserable and auto-tuned
So that their voices are fused
Non-Discernible from one to the other
Crying out in high pitched squeals
Foul play conducted on their play things
It makes a tantalizing cover story
When the shop worker finds his stamps are dust
When the cashier clamors on all fours for her ticket stubs
But it is not a nice ending to a bitter trial
But then again no one ever claimed it would be
What it is, is serendipitous
Claustrophobic calamities that no one cared to cart around
As one decade passed into the next
And all they had from then to now
Was a Hostess wrapper on the floor of their bathroom
A pointless reminder of a pointless artifact
Go on and conduct a search
Tally off on your log books all the people you grilled
Hollered off and knocked down for touching your shit
But don't be offended when it comes up nil
For you were the culprit
You killed the things you loved.

The Ballad of a Reaper

In the briefest of scenes 

Of girl meets guy

He said what he means

But it was a lie

The little orchard that was up the hill

Means not a thing now

For once he had his fill

He was left to bloat and drown

Condensed like a can of nothing

Harking back to the ages of darkness

He can't see the blank lines that he's passing

And he is lost in his weary starkness

Blasted the old sage wisdom

Whispers told by those much wiser

A cannon shot of idiom

He will attempt to mask and disguise her

With all the wishy washy wishes he wished for her face

When once he was dreaming on his bed ridden place

But he can't seem to fathom the answers as they pace

Back and forth amongst the apple orchard 

And they will kiss and love it still

Even after the blood letting has gotten its fill

Even after the world seems to blankly forget them

They will not forget each other for the common.

And as Act two opens wide

When the curtain pulls open

The groom will be dead, and the bride,

Well she'll be weeping, with soap in her,

Hands as they are scarcely red,

Where she scrubbed and she toiled,

To make it not her who had made him quite dead,

But the trick you see, it was spoiled

For the caretakers entered and spotted her there

With blood on her hand, stuck and smeared with happy tears,

There was even a droplet of red in her hair,

And they could not even fathom their fears.

Yet they lifted the corpse and brought it out to pasture

In the middle of some farmland specacled with manure

And their they buried the groomsmen for deathly sure

If he wasn't dead then he was dead again now.

And they will kiss and love it still

Even after the blood letting has gotten its fill

Even after the world seems to coldly remember them,

They won't recall it all for they is no longer,

Only she remembers everything,

And he, 

Well he can't remember or regain again,

For he is dead

And six feet under.