mud the bum's Journal

Time:

6:28 am.

you fair-weather misdemeanor
lackluster lust of my nether-region
to what further desolation might one suspect
for were it any other
for were it any other

make me a place at that table of yours
sitting right next to a barrel of sand

I am not so sure about practical
nor so keen to turn -

sod-wrapped more-flesh, watch him swim away
this time you've gone too far
heaven forbid we better - save today
those people you know
with that noise that permeates
though the walls

she had perfect symmetry
and in those eyes

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Time:

6:05 am.

... mind him, he is just ...

Don't follow down those paths
Inhale deeply, let the burn consume your soul
IS THIS NOT WHAT YOU WANTED
Hello, Goodbye, Everything In-between

These heartfelt greetings of yesterday and tomorrow
What do they mean, these smoke signals of love
Stay back, keep your distance
While the world keeps pissing away

sure i will find a way
i will, i am sure of it
they may find a replacement
but the memory will still live on

... breathe smoke into your lungs.
...'ll piss in your veins and smile.
... snicker at the misery of your dying son.
... fantasize about pushing old people down flights of stairs.
... want to sneak razor blades into apples for Halloween.
... laugh at the misery of others in distress.
... wishes your social structures to burn to the ground.
... can only hope that Oh Twelve brings round the bend.
... is just waiting for this all to end.

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Time:

2:15 am.

are we not adults?

you push me / i'll push you back
do not feign your ignorance
at these simple dials and switches
designated for one hundred percent
denial in the forefront, frontal lobe

hell bent on disaster / married to the thought
maybe the more you throw answers
the more they will seem to answer some
of those questions that keep bothering
you, being kept up late - late at night

time to cure / don't stare at that light
see it is a "fence" kind of, it gives form
and with this tool we give shape
with these at our disposal we can remake
and repair, the disasters we have catalyzed

we are but children.

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Time:

5:52 am.

oh you battlefield
in an attempt to make some sense of this
stretched from this side to the next
you parallel of misguided trepidation
sometimes, but only rarely
H E A V E N F O R B I D
and rightly so - just, and kind words

I'm pretty sure she hates it
when I try to put these together
with the subtle brush strokes
Yeah, I'm pretty sure she loathes
when I touch her in those places
There isn't a doubt in my mind
that she would just love to get up
turn around, and punch me right in the jaw

semi-soft insemination, serial discrimination
you bury your dead and i'll bury my head
(between your thighs, maybe...............)
and from the next day on we will both
reconsider where what we've done
and mutually agree
to never think of it
again.

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Time:

4:01 pm.

There is a distinct difference...

Between you dear, myself, and I

A gap or divide you might possibly say

Between breaths as you struggle through crying.

&%#*(@*)(!@#)@#*!#(

I can't possibly be expected to believe this
There is no way I can simply - "Look Away."
You could tell me: "There is meaning to everything!"
That is certainly something you'd say.

But it's the heavy hearted hand that decides...

Turns the lights out when it is bright out and He hides.

Hope these feelings pass while struggling to close your eyes

And doubly so that nobody will see through the disguise.

(#!*#*@)#@!()*@(*#%&

But maybe tomorrow will be different, maybe - maybe no---
There are a million different ways to say "Ha ha, Told you so!"
And when it is You and They are Me and We see all there is . . .
You'll remember this and try to use the excuse that it was His. . .

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Time:

6:45 am.

One morning---

found myself
outside a phonebooth
next to what seemed
a church, or what use to be
as there was no electricity
and the phone in the booth
did not work.
A blonde happened
to pass by
this place that I was
she only had one hand, I guess

As she greeted me with
a five digit prosthetic
with fake finger nails
which were painted hot pink.
Asked why the phone didn't work
and "If that there building was a church"
to which came "During the Korean War!"
and she pointed with her left hand
at her right hand
which she shook vigorously.
And before I could inquire
as to what she exactly meant
she bounded off behind a corner
and I was left beside myself.
I went after her,
yet when I turned the bend
she was nowhere to be found.
I sat on a bench,
and in an hour or two
a public transit bus arrived
which I paid exact change ($2.10)
for a ride home
The lesson having been learned:

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Time:

11:14 pm.

show me your one liner
significance
signposts of post traumatic symptoms

mistake me for a kind of gentleman
the kinder sort
who passes by
an open window
on a cool summer day

fake some more of that

home cooked

meandering to and fro, bite the bullet
by the by
give more than you take
sometimes I wonder

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Time:

8:56 pm.

There is no check in counter
no gas station attendant
the rules are sometimes bent, sometimes broken
what is status quo today may be inappropriate tomorrow.

Sometimes a whisper is just as loud as shouting.

Restless children will eventually grow up
to have children of their own, who will be equally restless
and they will wonder in retrospect, if when they were children
how is it that they were so restless.

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Time:

8:07 pm.

do not rest your hand
on my weary head
do not waste your time
with my excuses for yesterday

a passing glance on the freeway
those lamplights are so blinding
blinking in synchronization, a mystery
they are the last of the few remaining

fourthly

in mid sentence she stopped
and tilted her head
still maintaining eye contact
i wondered what she was ---

as the bruise healed
those mistakes became apparent
and with each brush stroke
a masterpiece was on the horizon

deep under many layers
of would have been's
and should have done's
thoughts that were never vocalized
actions that never were

trickery and subterfuge
hide from mirrors and windstorms
cold hard aluminum makes a decent grave
empty bottles tell such a tale

throw away the past
only remember
never again
sorry

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Time:

1:15 am.

IN BELLEVUE

you towers surround
/ with more in the making
toothpicks to wedge against the skyline
wind steadily blowing
/ down city streets, through carefully planted
aesthetically pleasing trees and shrubbery

daily I make my rounds
/ the minutes take more and more
seconds like drops of rain from above
time slowly gathers to an apex
/ ready to pounce on the next unsuspecting
passerby that thinks aloud with open eyes

COMING HOME

I play a game
(against myself, maybe others)
and rarely win

wheels spin tirelessly
and the irony of tireless tires
is not lost upon me

at every off ramp
and every street-lamp
and every right on red
and every yield on green
and every other vehicle passed
I . . .

ON HOME

Exhausted, another day
with both hands, one shoe is removed at a time
slinking my pants off, replacing my shirt
I lay around for just a little while
I smile. I breathe in. I enjoy.

And then I rise, and prepare for the next.
everything in it's place, a place for everything.
preparations for the long journey,
so early in the morning - tomorrow.

Next day's clothes where they need to be,
teeth brushed, hair combed, alarm set.
gather those blankets and pillows for bed.

With the setting of the sun, my eyes draw heavy.
lay my head down and quietly drift today off.

Everything is going to be O.K.

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Time:

6:49 pm.

Don't bully me with your
stop motion pantomimes

Don't patronize me with your
love, stop calling for help when you are---

As each pattern makes itself evident
we were forced deeper underground
the louder the thunder rose
you could feel in in your bones, in your soul
even the slaved looked suspicious

Passed the last gate what
could only be imagined as
live children being skinned and flayed
rang down the hallways and bounced around us
the echoes etching themselves in our collective psyche

Few from time to time
would wander off the well lit path
looking as if they had forgotten something important:

They did not return.

By the time we had reached our
destination it was down to me
and two others : A doctor and priest.
I could assume both walked this well lit path
with hopes they could help those in need -
to cure the ailment which had created this place
in some fashion or another.

I was looking for the person in charge,
and where to sign up.

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Time:

3:05 pm.

it is a problem, in this condition
this time and place, the conclusion is strained
almost as a wind of disarray amongst the tired and prejudice
the predicament is a sure sign, always is

Your confusion only furthers the agitation.
Growing ever stronger with each heartbeat that passes.
Choke it down quick before it gathers too much.
They are all counting on you, don't let them down now.

Sorry, we no longer carry those anymore.

it is in the decisions that we make on a daily basis
and the routine we take in our commonplace lives
that set us apart from those around us, however
also does it unify us in our everyday complacency

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Time:

2:46 pm.

onward you children
tread these waters slow

just because it was made that way
does not mean
that it is the way it should be used

if I hear
that infernal bleeping
one more time

with the tide as it comes
and goes out to the sea
break each wave as a new day

on pins and needles
tips of sharpened pencils
you'll find tiny vessels
lost in microscopic oceans
and if you squint just right
you may be able to help them
find their way home

" Don't look down if you're afraid of heights! "

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Time:

7:58 pm.

Tell me how you really feel
what those glass orbs in your skull
really see ( IF ANYTHING AT ALL )

show me the ways of indiscretion
and morose composition / how can I
casually push aside the doubts of every---

"Pillars!" - you cry! These pillars, you speak of
wrought iron, cast in a heat of ire

and contempt

will rust, chip, & one day fall over onto itself
as all things born of spite tend to do

mechanisms of purpose that drive those special desires
that whisper the sweet promises of tomorrow, or tonight
oh what a soft caress /
such a gentle lullaby to be heard /
tidings one would keep forever and ever, if only---

hollow in nature and desperate in tone
hopefully someone will become familiar with /
upside down and right side up
warm or cold - always there when the need arose

grind these remains of mine
into bread and spread on the butter

the world is full of so much ( SO MUCH! )
and experience attributes so little (so little... )

so little can a brush stroke recall that of an early morning
no words can replace the silence after a heavy rain
the clink of an empty bottle against more to spill

those heavenly creatures never could tell the difference
let loose torrents of confusion and watch them jitter

push away those who care /
with a wall of honesty /
blind them with reason /
shock them with logic /
spill into deep caverns /
of the obvious facts /

plenty of axioms to go around, here boy!
you can pick and choose from the truth you want to believe.
the world makes perfect sense, didn't you know?
with everything having a reason, and a place -
everything a place, and a reason.

mathematicians,
what do they know about beauty?

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Time:

8:05 pm.

Boys don't cry
and the diamonds in your eyes do shine!
" Button, button - who has the button? "

Everyone wants to be the reason
but nobody wants to take The Fall
all hands up when volunteers are called for
with every chair empty on opening night

But girls, oh they can do as they please
as kittens with a scent of 'nip
they're always on the prowl for more more more more

silly little things - as the blind lead the deaf

why settle for someone who will
what bothers her the most is My ----
those children of Yours
deserve so much more
Finally:

Take one part verbally abusive father
mix with three parts overbearing mother
throw in a dash of sibling rivalry and taunting
simmer for a few years and soon enough

You'll have yourself an average woman
with average thoughts about average things
who'll listen to any average garden snake

and will eat any average apple
from any average tree.

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Time:

11:23 pm.

Oh,
My.

So you're up to those old tricks again, hum?

Back to the tick tock
ticking of the clock
passing the minutes by seconds
and the hours by minutes

What sweet misery you'll desire!

But oh, yes...
Oh, my...

those days of yonder when you could sit and spurn
a world on it's hindlegs, I daresay you wouldn't dare
the candlewick cannot be lit any further,
just throw in the towel --
demons down hallways are all but asleep these days
and the buring ( OH HOW YOU BURNED! ) is naught but embers

and dust,
collecting:

but what've you got to lose?
if nothing more a pleasant distraction -
another medicore cover
patches on open wounds

toss this aside we'll need no salt today
the tendrils run far deeper than you'd ever imagine
oh who cares what the wicker-wack backroads will say
we will pave new roads to roam,
and even if we have to cut down every

tree, or
home, or
soul...

cut down every single fuckin' one of 'em, we will.

Oh, yes. Oh, my. We will.

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Time:

9:19 am.

this weight
you large time laden sorrow of mine
oh you heavy burden of multitudes untold

bound with such potential
look how you crackle with anticipation
next turn followed by the faint static hiss

merry now, pass through the light
silver lining all the way down your spine
are we awake and without dreams
or living dreams with no intent of waking