Monday, January 24, 2011

Somebody shot my son

Somebody shot my son
Somebody shot my son
Some low down cowardly bastard with a gun

He shot him down
He shot him down
He shot my son right in the middle of town

My son had flaws
Yes, he had them all
My son was not the best, but damn he was my son

Why’d you shoot my son?
Why’d you shoot my son?
What to you had my poor dead son done?

So you wanted cash?
Or did he beat your ass?
So you went home, got your gun and shot my son?

My son is gone
My son is gone
That baby boy I raised for years and years is gone

I’m gonna miss him so
I’m gonna miss him so
I’ll miss the last time I watched my son walk through that door

Somebody shot my son
Somebody shot my son
All I know is that that bastard’s shooting days are done

They caught the one
They ran him down
They caught the dirty stinking beast that shot my son

I’m gonna gun him down
Yeah, I’m gonna gun him down
I’m gonna shoot and watch his blood spill all over the ground

Somebody shot my son
But I gunned him down,
Now his daddy’s singing, oh God...somebody shot my son.
Somebody shot my son


Monday, January 3, 2011

Soul Collector

My name is Jack Ferriman
A reaper of souls
For those who don’t know
And for those whom I’ve told

There’s something about me
That brightens your day
My seductive smile,
The way that I sway

I’ll convince you of anything
Whether true or invented
Get into your mind
Once it’s evil I’ve scented...

Trust in my lies,
You gullible fool
I’ve thought of them well
I’m Lucifer’s tool

Say your goodbyes
To all you have loved
Save your biggest farewell
To the place up above

For when your time comes,
And I guarantee soon
You’ll be slowly descending
In a fiery cocoon

And this is my promise
To all those who dare
Keep trusting in me
Please have no fear

I look with contempt
At the love in your heart
To my promise you're drawn,
From that love you depart

The one thing that is true
My one honesty...
Is that I’ve come here for you
You’re coming with me

My name is Jack Ferriman
A reaper of souls
For those who don’t know
And for those whom I’ve told


[November 13th 2010]

Intentions

As I set out on the road of life
I notice good intentions
They’re strewn all about the path ahead
No chance, no hope, redemption

Broken, abandoned, alone and cold
They seem so lonely lying
Just a shell of former self
Quietly just dying

The more I travel, the less I see
It’s as if hope has lost all meaning
Good intentions are few and far between
At least where this road is leading

As I look at the road behind
At all the orphaned feelings
I wonder what could have been
If they had some time for healing

No time for what could have been
As I set out on my way
“Carpe diem, you limey bastards!"
I’m going to seize the fucking day



[November 4th 2010]

Hours

Staring.
For hours, I sit staring solemnly at the phone
Waiting for it to ring.
Time is short they say
A decade but a drop in the ocean of eternity
What then must an hour be?
A cell on the hairs of a flea in the infinity of the universe.
An hour ago, I could have picked up that phone
And heard your voice.
I could have made a joke and heard your laugh.
An hour ago.
A portion of time so insignificant to the universe
A wind in the vast emptiness of space
A portion of time I would give anything to have again.
There is so much I could have told you
Asked you
Showed you...
An hour ago
So still I sit....staring at the phone
Wishing it were an hour ago
Or a day ago, or a week ago, or a month ago, or a year ago...
It’s said that life is short
Life IS short
Love is not
I loved you before I met you
I loved you before we spoke
I loved you before we laughed
I loved you before we cried
I would have loved you even if I had never met you at all.
I will love you now...long after you’re gone
Death is for the living
The dead know only life.
It’s difficult to feel sad for you
Knowing that you’re free from all the limitations of life
Whether you’re in a better place,
Or just at peace
You are certainly not angry, or sad, or frightened, or in pain.
Those are sensations and emotions interpreted by your body
The body you’ve left behind
Something tangible for the living
To aid our memories
I’ll go to your funeral and tell you bye
But you’ve already left
I’ll sit at night and speak to you
But you’ve heard everything I have to say
You know the meaning of life
You know the answers to the unanswerable
I wish
Just for a moment
That you could come back and tell me who’s right
That you could speak to the world and let them know how pointless their arguments are
Because you know
But you can’t
Or you won’t
Maybe the answers are so wonderful, the suspense is necessary
I don’t know where you really are
Whether here with me
Or someplace better
But I do know your memory remains.
I’ll never remember the clothes you wore
Or the things you bought
I’ll never remember the balance on your bank account
What I will remember are the small things
The things I took for granted each day
Your smile, 
The way you walked,
The sound of your laughter,
The way you shook my hand,
The way you hugged me,
Your company
Your you-ness
I’ll always remember those things.
If only it were an hour ago...
I would do them all one last time.
But if everyone had an hour back, time would stand still forever
My hour’s gone
And so are you
I’ll miss you
Just like I’ll miss all those hours I spent knowing you
The minutes I spent talking to you
The seconds I spent laughing with you
Time is always moving forward, mercilessly, compassionately, 
Hatefully, Lovingly...
Unbiased and unaffected...
Hours march on not caring about our feelings, our wants or our desires
I don’t hate the hours though
They gave me you
They took you away
And still they march.
Hours may come and go
But love lasts forever.
I’ll stop staring at the phone
Waiting for a call I know won’t ever come.
Instead, I will raise the receiver to my ear
And speak to someone I love.
So that the next hour that passes
Doesn’t leave me wishing...
It were an hour ago.

Dedicated to Michael Hewlett and Ordette Wade



[July 28th 2010]

ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ

Annoying aspirations attuned attentively always bestow between boys bequeathed carelessly, courageously, contemptuously...confounding Confucius’ diatribe, disastrously determining daring extravagances exceeding expectations elegantly. Fortuitously, forgotten feelings fantasized garnished gluttonously help heroes, heroines, ignite incessant incendiaries into jackass Johnnies jumping jubilantly. Killing Kings look lustrously leeward...lessening love many meticulously managed, noting nomenclatures nonsensically nosing nervously, opening opportunities outward. Prudish patriarchs parrot pale policies pestering queens quickly reserving restitution rigorously saving something sinister. Suddenly towards the towers, thousands throng threateningly understanding Underland, vociferously voicing vehement villainous visages. Will we waver? Wonderland’s weeping willows welcome Xavier yonder, yelling “you yellowed yakking youth! Zanzibar’s zygnomic zoon.” 



[July 6th 2010]

Dance, Dance

The lights fade ever so softly, blinking with epileptic ferocity
I spot you in your corner...not paying attention
Bodies sway in and out all around me
Determinedly I make my way through the crowd
The closer I get, the faster my heart beats
After what feels like hours, I’m finally there
You haven’t yet seen me but my heart is in my throat
Even with the music blaring this loudly, I’m certain you can hear it
I reach forward and rub your arm so as not to startle you
You turn around and our eyes meet
My choking heartbeat slows a bit at the warmth of your smile
You turn back around, easing ever so slightly into my grateful embrace
My arms tighten around your waist
As my face finds the warmth of your neck...
Your smell takes me away from there...to a place only accessible in dreams
Who knew a simple dance could be so...complicated
Before I know it, I kiss you
My tongue tastes your neck ever so slightly
I catch myself and move back, preparing an apology in my mind
You don’t even turn around
I watch as you take my hands and bring me closer to you
All I can do is close my eyes and continue this conversation
Spoken only in body language...
There is so much to talk about...we dip, we slide...we rock, we sway
I don’t want to stop talking to you...
As quickly as it started...the background to our rhythmic painting fades away
I finally open my eyes, my hand still holding yours
I can barely see you in the darkness, but the light in your eyes is hard to miss
Goodbye dear
I watch you as you walk away...and unexpectedly, you look back
In that moment I know I’m not alone
My racing heart has found its other half...
We smile as you walk away
Goodbye dear
We'll meet again under OUR mistletoe
The corner where our body language flows, inhibition goes, and feelings grow
Tomorrow's another night.


[June 14th 2010]

The Faculty

I have something I want you to hear
This place is not something to fear
I might look imposing, but that’s just my clothing
Underneath, I'm really quite bare

I’ve stood here for many a year
I’ve seen laughter and quite a few tears
The faces have changed, but the essence remains
Many lifetimes have sat in these chairs

Some say I’m the ultimate test
That I accept only the best
But that’s quite untrue, I promise you
Struggling is part of the quest

Every year without fail
The learned and the learning share tales
Memories they'll not have again
Stories that never grow stale

Soon, you will understand
I'm not a difficult man
But time flies so fast, the present's soon past
The hourglass is shifting its sand

So goodbye’s just hello
More flood in as most go
The old bid the new ones adieu
It’s an endless, unstoppable flow

So thanks for your time
It was truly sublime 
The future’s unknown and quite dark
You’ll soon see I...was a walk in the park


[April 16th 2010]

The Vanguard

A thunderous roar shatters the silence
Like the hounds of hell being unleashed
The earth trembles under the might of men
Step by step, the grass bows before their boots...cowering in fear
The artillery fires
The missiles shriek and scream across the skies
The earth is in the air....flying everywhere 
This...this kaleidoscope of death...
This is where we enter
Guns blazing...the smell of gunpowder filling our every breath
The barrel jerking and shuddering in our hands
Through the fire we run...heads held high
Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall!
To fall is to die...to die is to lose
The burning grass has given way to sand
Yet onwards we run...we, the vanguard
No one looks to their left or to their right...
We brave few have only one mission...to go forth
Onwards...we cannot even see the enemy
Through the smoke, clouds, dust and fog, he is an invisible force
Lurking just ahead...coming towards us just as quickly
Ferociously...determined....
Suddenly they are upon us...we see the whites of their eyes
We lash out with the rest of our energy...
We hope to slash their very soul...death is our only mission
Our faces contort to masks of rage as we slash and hack
We strike, kick and stomp...anything that causes pain, we use
Blood flows freely here...covering our faces, blurring our sight
The bitter taste stains our mouths as we strike them down
Our rage is so great, we feel no pain...the only thing we feel is our anger, our fury
We take lives as quickly as we can...
Moving on from one body to the next
The stream is never ending, but we are not deterred
Through the smoke, dust, fog and flesh...we fight.
__________________________________________________

The pain catches me off guard and I stumble
My side is wet; I clutch it as I fall
I grab in vain to stop myself, but it’s too late...
I hit the sand face first, planting my palms into the gritty pebbles
I need to get back on my feet, so I grasp at the earth
Trying to find my strength
That’s when I see him...
As I crawl through the river of blood soaked sand, I see my end
He runs towards me at full speed, his knife raised above his head
I turn onto my back and raise my hands to catch his death blow
We grapple, turning over and over in the red sand
As I struggle against his strength, I feel mine drain
My resistance weakens as his blade gets closer and closer to my heart
My mask of rage is gone...instead; a wave of realisation hits me
This is it.
This day, I lose...finally lose. 
Still I fight...pushing upwards with all the strength I have left....
I scream into his face, my fury growing weaker as his grows stronger
Then it happens...
The blade pierces my soul
I lie still...still screaming in anger
My screams grow more garbled as my throat fills with blood
He pulls out and pierces me again, each thrust more powerful than the last
I feel the pain no longer...
I stare into his eyes...my face has gone still
He pulls the knife out my chest and runs onwards, plunging it into another fallen
Bodies fall all around me
Soon, even he will join them...
I lie looking at the sky...I can finally see it
The blue slowly emerges from behind the fog of red and black
Far above, an eagle soars
I watch her move effortlessly through the heavens
The noise has gone...silence once again envelops the land in its sweet embrace
I blink...
This is it
I try to take one last breath, but I can’t...
My lungs ache for air...
I blink...
My fingers clutch the sand at my sides
This is it!
I blink...
Once again the thunderous roar blasts furiously
The ground begins its trembling
The boots commence their march
I’ve done my duty...good luck comrades...
I close my eyes and face the unknown
My hands unclench as I cease to move
My tired body rests


[March 24th 2010]

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Route P9

In the middle of nowhere lies an immense stretch of road
Some know it as ‘the highway’, others know it as ‘route P9’
There are so many connecting roads, pit stops, bars,
Sometimes just finding it is an accomplishment
Every distraction you can think of, lines the sides of this great road
But once you’ve found it, it is quite a sight to behold
The highway stretches and sprawls out as far as the eye can see
Miles and miles of untarnished, well kept asphalt glimmer in the sunlight
Everything about this highway demands your attention
There are three main reasons for awe and amazement
The first is the highway itself, the attractions that surround it,
The bright lights, the music, the very atmosphere of the place screams for your attention
The second is the cars...
One has never seen so many cars in one place before
They come in all sorts of colours, types, classes and sizes
There are luxury cars, built for the more financially endowed,
The sports cars for the speed enthusiasts, promising a fast, fun, ride
The SUV’s for those overly concerned with safety,
The minivans, the garbage trucks, the emergency vehicles, you name it
Millions and millions of vehicles line this majestic road
All going in the same direction

The last thing you can’t miss, are the people
They crawl everywhere like ants, each one somehow connected to this long route
To fully appreciate and understand the complex nature of this scene, one must move closer
Standing at the start of Route P9, one can get a better look at its complexity
I’m not quite sure who designed this road
Some say God did, others, that men did
What I do know is that its design is very peculiar.
Right near the beginning, the attractions line up as far as the eye can see
Every mile there is a new building, with new possibilities, and many people milling about
Every mile, a shining new gas station greets you, smiling attendants ready to fill your tank
The asphalt itself is a beautiful black colour, and completely flawless
It is here one finds the most activity
Millions of cars clog the highway at this point, people getting in, getting off...
Or some who just watch... It is quite an interesting place
People fill the bars, the clubs, the cafe’s the offices, the churches and everything else
They all have one thing in common...no matter what they’re busy doing, 
They all eventually look out towards the highway, a slight longing in their eyes
Some keep their vehicles well kept, ready at a moment’s notice to spring to action
Others have left theirs to rust and break down
Even if one day they wanted to join the masses on the road, they couldn’t
I feel especially sorry for those people

I turn my attention from the sideliners as I like to call them, to the commuters
This scene is very familiar to most of us
Crowds of people all busily driving somewhere, lost in their own space
The people that fill the first 10 miles of road all look excited
Some pick out their cars, others who don’t like to drive, watch the road intently
Sooner or later, someone they want to drive with will turn up
Picking a car is a difficult task
The type of car a person picks, usually reflects their mental state...
Those people afraid of hurt and pain go for the safe, but boring cars
Others even buy motorcycles...a fun exciting ride guaranteed, pain and injury almost certain...
Some drivers just have more money than others,
So their vehicles are quite expensive and attractive
These drivers are usually the ones with the most passengers 
Some of the uglier drivers buy their cars heavily tinted, 
Their passenger forced to find out what they really look like only AFTER they get in
Others buy sensible cars, fuel efficient and affordable
These cars are less popular, but are somewhat attractive nonetheless
Some drive the cheap, beat up cars because they want to spend their money on other things
People that accept rides from those drivers usually don’t expect to go more than one or 2 miles
Some drive huge, flashy, attention seeking, over compensating cars,
Others drive the more conservative, classy ones
Some even drive mini-vans with child seats in the back but have no children
Those drivers usually drive solo, with hitchhikers looking the other way whenever they pass
A select few drive big rigs with driver controlled locks on the passenger doors and soundproof cabins
These drivers scare the poop out of everyone else

Some people don’t even look at the drivers, their only interest being in the car
At this point, sports cars rule the road.
These speed demons are almost always full of passengers
Some passengers sit in front, the more reluctant ones in the back
Some even hide in the trunk, while either the passenger or driver is unawares
These stowaways are almost always found out though
And are forced to walk back from wherever they were kicked out
Some find another car to stowaway in,
Others start their long, depressing journey back to where they started
Some even get mad and stay by the roadside just contemptuously yelling at other cars
The sports cars speed around the starting 10 miles like there’s no tomorrow
Some make it 7, even 8 miles up the road before they’re forced to turn around
The start of Route P9 looks like it was made especially for these cars
The flawlessness, the crowds of people looking for a quick ride...

This area doesn’t last very long however
After only 10 miles or so, the buildings start to disappear,
The people grow sparser; the road starts to lose its shine...
When you eventually reach 100 miles, you realize that the gas stations aren’t as frequent
The attendants aren’t as friendly, the traffic is much lighter
200 miles down the road you start seeing potholes
Abandoned cars litter the side of the road, garbage clogs the drains
This is where you first see the accidents
If you stayed within the first 10 miles of this road, you’d never think about them
Everything seems almost perfect back there
At this juncture however, there are mass numbers of accidents
Some are minor fender benders that delay the occupants for a short time
Others are full out wrecks, with messy fatalities

If you make it 300 miles, you start noticing alot of the cars are much emptier
Back at the start, it was common to see a driver with 4 or so passengers
Now, seeing just one passenger is surprising
Most of the drivers out here are going it alone
Another rare sight out here is hitchhikers 
Back at the start, hitchhikers were everywhere
You couldn’t drive for more than a few minutes without seeing five
Now, the only people on the side of the road are those walking in the other direction
Out here, the dirty road grows more and more desolate
Gas stations are almost nonexistent, so drivers are forced to go VERY slowly
Fuel conservation is a huge priority
Many times, you’ll pass people whose cars have simply run out of gas
Those unfortunate souls have a long walk back to the start
There are absolutely no sports cars out here
The few cars that litter the roads are fuel efficient and small
No one really knows what happens after you get past 400 miles
Most people never reach there, and those that do, never return 
It must be quite a sight though...

On this complicated stretch of road, where almost everything works against you,
I haven't yet decided who I want to be...
Am I a cautious driver, putting safety above everything else, fun included?
A reckless driver, whose only concern is the thrill of the ride?
A sideliner, who prefers to watch other people make the trip?
A passenger?
A stowaway?
Am I a cynic that stays on the sidewalk laughing at the failures of other drivers,
While not making an attempt myself?
Do I want to start my trip, only to go a few miles before losing my passenger,
And be forced to start over scouring the hitchhikers for good company?
Do I choose a passenger that's fun to talk to, but not to look at?
One that's fun to look at, but not to talk to?
Do i want to risk setting off in an inexpensive car, 
Only to lose my passenger to a sports car driver?
Risk setting off in a sports car only to be forced to stop once the road gets bad?
The highway has many options, but very few guarantees.
I do know that I want to see what's past 400 miles....to finally see
Why everyone spends so much time and energy on this road...
I know that that's what I want...how to get there is another question entirely.




[February 21st 2010]