YOU tell me you once ran off a black couple, with a baseball bat. YOU say they were looking at a house for sale across the street and YOU did not want them to move into YOUR neighborhood. Black folks always bring down the property values, YOU said.
and you tell me I need Jesus...
YOU tell everyone that YOU have a perfect marriage and that YOUR husband is the best father YOUR children could ever have. Yet at home YOU are scared to death of him. He yells and screams at you and tells YOU things like "If YOU leave me I will take YOUR children away" and "YOUR fat ass needs to lose some weight, because I don't want to have sex with a whale."
and you tell me I need Jesus...
YOU tell me that YOU had to stop on the side of the interstate, pull your two little girls out of the car and "Whip the shit out of both of them until they were both in tears."
and you tell me I need Jesus...
You tell me it is OK to cheat on YOUR spouse, because they are cheating on YOU. YOU have been fucking and sucking several of his friends for years. I hope he does not kill YOU when he finds out.
and you tell me I need Jesus...
YOU tell everyone about YOUR loser friend that lives off the government. YOU tell them that YOU are sick and tired of paying for scum like her to live off YOUR tax dollars. Yet, YOU are sweet and nice anytime she comes over, and YOU have no problem leaving YOUR kids with her when YOU want to go out.
and you tell me I need Jesus...
YOU beat up a white guy because YOU don't want him going out with a black girl. The black girl is YOUR cousin and YOU say YOU are doing it to protect her. She agrees not to see the white guy anymore so YOU and YOUR friends will not hurt him anymore. Then YOU have the nerve to say that YOU are not racist because YOU are black.
and you tell me I need Jesus...
YOU sit and premeditate on how many ways YOU are going to hurt someone, first with words and later with hands. YOU pray to god to forgive YOU for what YOU are about to do. Then YOU use YOUR words to rip a woman apart, piece by piece, because she did not do a good enough job at work today. She leaves in tears, her spirit crushed, and never comes back to work. YOU never even trained her on what she was supposed to do.
and you tell me I need Jesus...
YOU have a horrible breakup with YOUR boyfriend, because he was sleeping around on YOU. YOU are so low YOU don't know if you can ever get back up again. I watch YOU slowly get back to work, one and sometimes two jobs. YOU buy a car with cash money. Then YOU rent an apartment and go back to college to finish YOUR degree. YOU graduate and get a good job and move to another state. I am so proud of YOU and commend YOU for all YOUR hard work. Then YOU tell me I should be thanking Jesus because YOU could not have done it without his help. ??? I say it was YOU, YOU are one of the strongest people I know. As I walk away from our relationship in tears, hoping YOU will learn how strong YOU are... and you tell me it is over unless.....
and you tell me I need Jesus...
YOU ask me to bring my kids to YOUR Sunday School Service. Then YOU proceed to tell me that YOU hate "faggots" and "queers." YOU tell me that God says same sex relationships are wrong and those people need to be punished for their sins.
and you tell me I need Jesus...
YOU tell me that Hurricane Katrina was God's wrath for the gambling, corruption, drinking, and sex in New Orleans. YOU say that the world would be better off without "those" kinds of people and that not enough of them died.
and you tell me I need Jesus...
YOU tell me that the Mexicans have taken all the jobs and YOU can't find work. YOU tell me that they will work for pennies on the dollar and are ruining America. I wonder how YOU can afford a 24 pack of beer and two packs of cigarettes a day, while you sit on your front porch doing absolutely nothing.
and you tell me I need Jesus...
YOU send out dirty texts with jokes and pictures about "niggers" to people you call your friends. YOU say "the only good nigger is one that is hanging from a tree."
and you tell me I need Jesus...
YOU tell me how much fun you have at your house. YOU lure cats to your porch with milk and food. Then YOU "bash their heads in with a metal baseball bat."
and you tell me I need Jesus...
YOU openly make fun of YOUR secretaries skin condition. YOU stir up people and try to get everyone else at work to make fun of her too. YOU send out texts and emails to everyone in YOUR office, making fun of her. She goes home every night and cries herself to sleep. Even though she can not afford to lose her job, she ends up quitting and almost loses everything she has. She later reveals that YOUR dumb ass was sending all those messages to her to because YOU don't know how to work YOUR computer or phone. YOU also forwarded others replies to her as well.
and you tell me I need Jesus...
YOU brag how YOUR woman stays at home taking care of the kids. She wants to go back to work, but YOU won't let her. YOU say women are only good for cooking, cleaning, fucking and making men food. YOU have demoralized her and made he feel like no one else would ever want her. She stays at home doing everything YOU ask and lives in misery.
and you tell me I need Jesus...
OK, I vented and I am done. I could go on for another hour or two. I assure you all these things have happened. These very same people will talk about doing something heinous to another human being or animal, and five minutes later be telling me that "YOU need Jesus in YOUR life." "YOU should come to church with me on Sunday." I get so tired of living in the South sometimes. It is a place full of hypocrisy, backstabbers, and pure selfishness. Yet, there are some good people here. The ones that will help you no matter what, where, when or how you are. Those are the ones that make me forget about all the evil as fuck people, cutting each other's throats to get ahead. There are some that will give you the shirt off their backs, the last dollar in their wallets, the last bit of food they have. The ones that keep my hope alive, weather or not I beLIEve in Jesus.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Stolen Thoughts
I am borrowing a line from http://www.alcoholicpoet.com/2013/01/salt-yellow-scream.html because it is stuck in my head. It seems to be telling me something, but the meaning fades on into forever. "The tide clutches the sand." It seems like such an innocent statement. I can just hear a child asking a parent "Why can't the tide hold on to the sand better? It keeps climbing up the beach, and falling back down into the ocean."
A tale of woe,
from bittered lips.
Cracked and broken,
from Death's poisoness kiss.
Still grasping at nothing,
in the air of despair.
Blindly feeling for something,
that will never again... be there.
Holding on to hopelessness,
like the tide clutching the sand.
Falling endlessly through the void,
Pleading desperately for somewhere to land.
There seem to be no answers,
to the questions posed.
Always the sharpest thorns,
always the bloodiest, red.... red rose.
Her smell is sweet,
her smile..... sincere.
She sneaks up in the darkness,
and whispers "you have nothing left to fear."
Take my hand,
feed my love.
Walk with me,
be my love.
She leads us onward,
out of darkness, into light.
To the fate we wrought,
ending this short fight.
This temporary hell,
we created.
The entire reason,
we all live sedated.
These stolen thoughts,
deliver us from our hatred.
I am not sure I can embrace this level of darkness.
A tale of woe,
from bittered lips.
Cracked and broken,
from Death's poisoness kiss.
Still grasping at nothing,
in the air of despair.
Blindly feeling for something,
that will never again... be there.
Holding on to hopelessness,
like the tide clutching the sand.
Falling endlessly through the void,
Pleading desperately for somewhere to land.
There seem to be no answers,
to the questions posed.
Always the sharpest thorns,
always the bloodiest, red.... red rose.
Her smell is sweet,
her smile..... sincere.
She sneaks up in the darkness,
and whispers "you have nothing left to fear."
Take my hand,
feed my love.
Walk with me,
be my love.
She leads us onward,
out of darkness, into light.
To the fate we wrought,
ending this short fight.
This temporary hell,
we created.
The entire reason,
we all live sedated.
These stolen thoughts,
deliver us from our hatred.
I am not sure I can embrace this level of darkness.
Paralyzed
I have not written much of anything lately. It is not that I don't want to, because my thoughts are overflowing. I have had hundreds of songs, poems, stories and rants splashing around in here. I think I am scared to write. Why? It is because I am lost and oh so sad. When I compose something I let it all out, all of it...... and that scares me. There is much I am hiding from these days. Always trying to keep that one step between us, one step ahead. No matter how fast I run, he is right behind me. Constantly breathing down my neck like some angry god, waiting for me to stumble so he can strike me down. I have an enemy I am not sure I can defeat this time, because the enemy is in me. When I look in the mirror I see his face.... and I feel paralyzed.
Since my mother passed away last year, it is getting harder and harder to sleep, or to relax in general. I drink at night, then I drink more, but it does not even seem to effect me anymore. I keep having visions of her every time I close my eyes. I see her when my mind starts drifting away in boredom. I sometimes see her while I am standing in line at the store waiting to check out. They are not good visions either. She is withering away with decay and reeks of death. Her eyes are black and hollow. She holds out her hand toward me and shrieks "JIMMY" as only a mother can. It makes all the hair on my body stand up and cold chills run up and down.... I am paralyzed.
My wife asked me one day "Do you think it is better that you were with her when she died, or would it have been better if you were not there?" I have though about the answer for days. I truly think it was better that I was with her when she passed. Watching her slowly stop breathing, and I felt the energy leave her body. I was good energy, warm and gentle. I think she can finally be at peace with all the things that bothered her so much in this temporary existence. She had a very loving spirit, even though it was shrouded in the darkness of alcoholism.
I felt helpless at that moment, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't DO anything... I just stood there, paralyzed. I still feel like I should have done something, anything. Grabbed her, hugged her, held her hand, FUCKING SCREAMED. Something, but I couldn't... It was hard enough for me to breathe. I know she was no longer there, anyway. She was too old to change, but too young to die.
It is times like these I kick myself for having strong beliefs. Times like these when nothing makes sense. I actually wish I could temporarily latch on to one of the many fake deities. I would like to say "Jesus, just tell me why you took some of my closest friends when they were so young. Why did you take both my grandfathers before I even had a chance to meet them? Why did you take both of my grandmothers when they still had so much to share with us? Why would you let friends and friends children commit suicide? Why did you take my mother from me when I was trying so hard to make our relationship better? Why do you take all those children from their families? Above all, why do we have to suffer so much with physical and mental pain?" I wonder if he would tell me what I hear all the time. "It was their time to come to heaven and be with god and their families."
No, he wouldn't tell me anything, because I do not beLIEve in him. My mother did not either. She was a scientist at heart, and I am as well. My thoughts are everywhere and I can't keep them straight. This is my closing thoughts my ADD kicks in. If I did beLIEve in the Bible and Jesus: I would have to beLIEve that this malevolent, righteous, loving and fair God wanted those innocent children killed at that school. He wanted those survivors to watch their friends get shot to death by a maniac, and die in a horribly painful way. He wanted those teachers to die as they listened to their students last cries and screams. This is what I am always told by the really religious folks around here. God has a purpose for everyone, he leads us in everything we do, he always has a plan, you just have to pray to him and he will guide you. That is NOT a God I can believe in, nor could my mother. I think I have traded my sadness for anger. Oh look..... a butterfly.....
Since my mother passed away last year, it is getting harder and harder to sleep, or to relax in general. I drink at night, then I drink more, but it does not even seem to effect me anymore. I keep having visions of her every time I close my eyes. I see her when my mind starts drifting away in boredom. I sometimes see her while I am standing in line at the store waiting to check out. They are not good visions either. She is withering away with decay and reeks of death. Her eyes are black and hollow. She holds out her hand toward me and shrieks "JIMMY" as only a mother can. It makes all the hair on my body stand up and cold chills run up and down.... I am paralyzed.
My wife asked me one day "Do you think it is better that you were with her when she died, or would it have been better if you were not there?" I have though about the answer for days. I truly think it was better that I was with her when she passed. Watching her slowly stop breathing, and I felt the energy leave her body. I was good energy, warm and gentle. I think she can finally be at peace with all the things that bothered her so much in this temporary existence. She had a very loving spirit, even though it was shrouded in the darkness of alcoholism.
I felt helpless at that moment, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't DO anything... I just stood there, paralyzed. I still feel like I should have done something, anything. Grabbed her, hugged her, held her hand, FUCKING SCREAMED. Something, but I couldn't... It was hard enough for me to breathe. I know she was no longer there, anyway. She was too old to change, but too young to die.
It is times like these I kick myself for having strong beliefs. Times like these when nothing makes sense. I actually wish I could temporarily latch on to one of the many fake deities. I would like to say "Jesus, just tell me why you took some of my closest friends when they were so young. Why did you take both my grandfathers before I even had a chance to meet them? Why did you take both of my grandmothers when they still had so much to share with us? Why would you let friends and friends children commit suicide? Why did you take my mother from me when I was trying so hard to make our relationship better? Why do you take all those children from their families? Above all, why do we have to suffer so much with physical and mental pain?" I wonder if he would tell me what I hear all the time. "It was their time to come to heaven and be with god and their families."
No, he wouldn't tell me anything, because I do not beLIEve in him. My mother did not either. She was a scientist at heart, and I am as well. My thoughts are everywhere and I can't keep them straight. This is my closing thoughts my ADD kicks in. If I did beLIEve in the Bible and Jesus: I would have to beLIEve that this malevolent, righteous, loving and fair God wanted those innocent children killed at that school. He wanted those survivors to watch their friends get shot to death by a maniac, and die in a horribly painful way. He wanted those teachers to die as they listened to their students last cries and screams. This is what I am always told by the really religious folks around here. God has a purpose for everyone, he leads us in everything we do, he always has a plan, you just have to pray to him and he will guide you. That is NOT a God I can believe in, nor could my mother. I think I have traded my sadness for anger. Oh look..... a butterfly.....
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