I found Enigma tucked away in Skeleton Crew , an old Steven King book of short stories
The date on it was November , 1991
I was 31 years old when I wrote it
I don't remember writing it at all
But I do remember that I was in the middle of a muse inspired writing frenzy
I wrote a lot in that period
I remember some of them , but not this one
I posted this for a couple of reasons
Tomorrow the Nobel Prize goes to a poet
Hurray!!!
When I was in my writing frenzy
In 91 and 92
I used to dream I would be the youngest ever to win one of those
But I was smart enough to realize I would of had to die first
I had a lot of problems
Alcohol
Drugs
A real bad attitude
And a huge chip on my shoulder
Still do ... but a little more under control now
The delusions of awards and peer acceptance are gone
Now I don't give a fuck about either
I never published any of my work until now
I have thought about it from time to time
But good sense has always prevailed
Another reason I am posting this is because on February 23, 1993
I burnt all my poetry
At least I thought I did
I'll never forget that day
I bought a 24 of beer
2 hits of acid
And burnt over 200 poems
1 novel
And the drafts for 3 other novels
I haven't given a fuck about anything since
You can like this
Or not
Believe me
Or not
I don't give a fuck
I am doing this on my terms
By my rules
And maybe I'll live
Friday, December 9, 2011
Enigma
Sometimes the words just flow
It's magical
You forget
Get lost
You're just not there anymore
All of your senses disconnect
It's your brain
And the paper
Nothing else matters
Nothing else is even there
The brain does strange things
When this happens
It leaves
Relocates
Disappears
It's no longer yours
It's been taken over
Possessed
Kidnapped
Set free
It's no longer hampered by your body
Your surroundings
Or your thoughts
It doesn't last long
An hour or two
But it seems like an eternity
An instant
Time is not there
Not a factor
You write longhand
Pacing
Unaware
The world could end
You wouldn't know
The house could catch fire
You'd burn
You could have a heart attack
You wouldn't feel
When your time is up
When that instant
Eternity
Is over
You feel lost
Confused
You have to read what you have written
Because you don't know
But it seems familiar
Like you have seen it before
And it's good
You like it
You rarely have to change
More than a word or two
It's a feeling no drug
Sex
Religion
Can give you
You've tried
Pure pleasure
Euphoria
And scary
That loss of control
Reason
Sanity
It's addictive
Hard to attain
Elusive
With it you are a god
More than a man
More than human
Without it you are lost
Less than yourself
A shell
A bad dream
You continue to search for it
Finding it more often
Becoming more
Better
You continue to run from it
To hide
Deny
It's a gift
Curse
Drug
Poison
Those who don't have it
Want it
Those who have it
Are alive
Not the same
Different
Strange
When you try to write
Without a muse
It's garbage
Junk
It has no soul
With one
You soar
You are more than yourself
The way you could never be
Without their help
The essential you
The part of you
You don't know
The part you discover
Each time you are there
And leave behind
When that time is over
Feeling empty again
Beat up
Spent
Used
The magic is gone
You are back in control
Of nothingness
Until the next time
It's magical
You forget
Get lost
You're just not there anymore
All of your senses disconnect
It's your brain
And the paper
Nothing else matters
Nothing else is even there
The brain does strange things
When this happens
It leaves
Relocates
Disappears
It's no longer yours
It's been taken over
Possessed
Kidnapped
Set free
It's no longer hampered by your body
Your surroundings
Or your thoughts
It doesn't last long
An hour or two
But it seems like an eternity
An instant
Time is not there
Not a factor
You write longhand
Pacing
Unaware
The world could end
You wouldn't know
The house could catch fire
You'd burn
You could have a heart attack
You wouldn't feel
When your time is up
When that instant
Eternity
Is over
You feel lost
Confused
You have to read what you have written
Because you don't know
But it seems familiar
Like you have seen it before
And it's good
You like it
You rarely have to change
More than a word or two
It's a feeling no drug
Sex
Religion
Can give you
You've tried
Pure pleasure
Euphoria
And scary
That loss of control
Reason
Sanity
It's addictive
Hard to attain
Elusive
With it you are a god
More than a man
More than human
Without it you are lost
Less than yourself
A shell
A bad dream
You continue to search for it
Finding it more often
Becoming more
Better
You continue to run from it
To hide
Deny
It's a gift
Curse
Drug
Poison
Those who don't have it
Want it
Those who have it
Are alive
Not the same
Different
Strange
When you try to write
Without a muse
It's garbage
Junk
It has no soul
With one
You soar
You are more than yourself
The way you could never be
Without their help
The essential you
The part of you
You don't know
The part you discover
Each time you are there
And leave behind
When that time is over
Feeling empty again
Beat up
Spent
Used
The magic is gone
You are back in control
Of nothingness
Until the next time
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Rhubarb Wine and Bubble Hash Inspiration
 |
| Image via Wikipedia |
8 or 9 years ago I was working at a lumber mill and I was bored.
The work itself was pretty routine and required very little thought
I have always written poetry in my head for my own entertainment
This day was no different
Some days my boss and I would argue
Some days we got along great
But every night
After doing the same shitty job everyday
I would go home
Eat supper while I watched the evening news
Watch whatever was on the tv that night
And drink
And smoke dope
Every fucking day
I lived to get drunk and stoned
I worked so I could afford to do it
I lived like that for years
Wish I still could
I miss the escape
Now I am old
With a seven year old son
After keeping my poetry to myself for forty years
He is the reason that I am sharing my poetry
Yeah son
Dad is fucked
I don't like the world very much
I like it a lot better when I am wasted
When I am sober
The world can go fuck itself
Monday, December 5, 2011
Rhubarb Wine and Bubble Hash
 |
| Image via Wikipedia |
Yeah he's just being a fucking prick
Everything I do is wrong
Can't do a fucking thing right
He keeps screaming in my fucking face
I've been doing this shitty job
For as long as I can remember
The same fucking thing every fucking day
Tell him to shove it up his ass
But in order to live I need the fucking money
The only thing that keeps me going
Is knowing when I get home
I'll get completely fucking wasted
Drinking rhubarb wine and smoking bubble hash
Watch the evening news
Get completely fucking depressed
The whole fucking world has gone insane
Unpredictable fucking weather
Earthquakes and solar flares
One fucking disaster after another
People rioting and looting
To get rid of one piece of crap
Only to be shit on by someone else
Everyone in debt up to their fucking eyeballs
So all the fucking pay goes to the fucking interest
It really doesn't fucking matter
As long as I can still
Keep on getting bent out of fucking shape
Drinking rhubarb wine and smoking bubble hash
Maybe there's a god
Maybe there's a devil
Maybe I just don't fucking care
Maybe there's a heaven
Maybe there's a hell
Maybe I don't give a flying fuck
If we're judged forever on the short time that we have
It's got to be some kind of fucking joke
All the fucking preachers telling us how to live
While they've got their fucking hands in our fucking pocket
The only thing I know is we're all going to die
Not too fucking much we can do about that
Whatever happens next is anybodies guess
I guess it just doesn't fucking matter
But everyone believes in something
And right now I believe
I'm going to get fucking drunk and stoned
Drinking rhubarb wine and smoking bubble hash
So tired of this life
All it's fucking bullshit
Some days I just want to fucking scream
I need some way to escape
To get the fuck out of here
It probably won't be until I fucking croak
Wish I could go somewhere else
Somewhere far fucking away
It would be nice to go live on fucking mars
Get on a fucking spaceship
Point it to the sky
Keep on going for fucking ever
Or open a fucking door
To another fucking dimension
Bolt the fucking thing shut behind me
If alternate reality
Is just a state of mind
Then move over honey
I'm about to alter mine
Drinking rhubarb wine and smoking bubble hash
Drinking rhubarb wine and smoking bubble hash
Drinking rhubarb wine and smoking bubble hash
Drinking bubble hash and smoking rhubarb wine
Drinking rhubarb hash and smoking bubble wine
Wait a minute
That doesn't sound right
Aw man
Am I ever fucked
Go to http://poetrychaos.blogspot.com/p/mp3-downloads.html
to get a FREE copy of my crappy reading !
Go to http://poetrychaos.blogspot.com/p/mp3-downloads.html
to get a FREE copy of my crappy reading !
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