Thursday, February 18, 2010

The Passing

He wears
a pistol
low
on his hip.
Riding
tall
on a snorting
black beast.
Easily.
Wrinkled
vision sweeping
purple horizon,
gently waving
back to him.
The rhythm
of shod feet
rocking him
as a babe
cradled.
Only sand
and scorpions
note
his passing.

In Time

I am fettered
as Prometheus
to a mountain
of the past
My sobriety
or the chance of it
a spider web
gossamer
It cannot
hold me
Only surrender can
put up a fight
and at times
I haven't got it
in me
I pray for pain
for weakness
to live in his strength
To live
and cease to run
riot
to live and to die
a better man

recovered in time

My Soul Laughing

The Devil
rides in a
drop top Cadillac
looking
to and fro
for trouble.
She has
bare feet
and red painted toes.
The sun kisses
strawberry locks
curling,

crashing,

dripping,


down onto a faded
Grateful Dead T.
She smiles
at me,
cinder black heart.
I burst into flames.
I want to run
to her.
Fight for
her. Kill
for her.

And she eats my soul laughing.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Back from rehab

I was so anxious to get here this morning that I forgot my notes but I really enjoyed my experience and will write a little more about it in the next few days. If I never wanted to get clean it would have been worthwhile for the rich material that I gleaned from the lives of my peers! :)

Saturday, January 2, 2010

today i go to rehab

today i go to rehab. likely that is not true. this is saturday and i probably wont get in for at least a couple of more days. but the process has begun. i am resigned to the fact. a wonderful dear friend has recommended that i stay with her for the next couple of days. she is an older women and kind in that way that seems to have escaped my generation. our mutual love of reading and writing poetry was the catalyst of our friendship. she happens to be the president of the river market poets, the first time i met her i knew that she was special ( indeed they all were so warm ), i was sober that day but did not like it and made no bones about who and what i was. i had been concerned that they might not like my stuff- and almost sure i wouldn't like theirs, probably all couplets about kittens and afghans. like so many other things,i was wrong about that too. so when i got out of jail their were hundreds of emails waiting for me, concerned about me, and hers among them. i will go spend some time with Marcia today, soon i will be in rehab

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About Me

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I struggle with addiction and am just recently out of prison- I dislike most people and am bitter and self destructive. Yet somehow I have a good time. My first wife wanted to be an FBI agent when I met her in college, and the last one was a prostitute,the former gave me three great kids that I named Dakota, Skye and Willow, the latter a hell of a hard time. In the past I have been a busboy, a waiter, and a bartender. I have worked in nearly all construction trades including carpentry, brick laying, electrical, weilding, and plumbing. Once I had a job where I climbed tree's for a living. I fought Mixed Martial Arts when they still called it No Holds Barred, I have sold cars and was an editorial cartoonist. I am a failed actor, to lazy to try very hard, and lived with outlaw bikers in Northern California. I served as a medic in the army,and studied creative writing as well as radio tv. I cook a mean breakfast and like to sit and think sometimes all day. Did I say think or drink?