Dedicated to Max, “And so it goes…”

I read “Slaughterhouse Five” in college
I didn’t understand it’s hidden knowledge

Looking back on my life I see
Much of it is shrouded from me

I jump from here to here
Slipping, silently, from year to year

There and back again
Feeling every pleasure and every pain

A prisoner of my own brain
My memories fodder for my soul to drain

Like a suicidal soul vampire
I am my own self-immolation pyre

Alone inside of me
I just cannot let it be

In my selfish sadism
I built my own prison

With halls of horror
Tools of mental torture

Caught in the infinite sadness
Taught to the soul by the eternal madness

Like the garden viper
Who spoke with a whisper

That boomed like a couple 155 Mike-Mike shells
Rigged with ball-bearings and a cel-phone trigger to blow you to hell

I read “Slaughterhouse Five” in college
I didn’t understand it’s hidden knowledge

Hi there hippo-criticizer
You Hippopotamidae analyzer

So quick to judge an herbivore
Acting like it’s nothing you’ve done before

Floating in a river
You judgment giver

You don’t like his beady eyes
You think it means he only lies

You assume those tiny ears
Are hiding some kind of secret fears

You assume his fat ass
Means he has zero class

Because when he looks at you
He thinks, “I don’t know, might be true…

Smoke my weed.”

We’re a couple of too old young men
Who keep going back, again and again

Calling each other on the phone
Time’s passed, neither leave it alone

Caught in dark delusions
Fears fed by nightmarish illusions

Our memories explode
Upon those desert roads

Telephonic recollections
Disharmonic introspections

Our Hysterical ramblings
On the historical trampling

Of an Arab nation
In an empirical aggregation,

Of power and petroleum
And a dream that we sold ’em

With the butt of a gun
‘Neath their hot desert sun

Just a couple of too old young men
Who keep going back, again and again

Can’t change what happened back then
But what we’ve got now can last ’til the end

It’s not about who will lose or who will win
It’s not about trying to be friends

It wasn’t about how you look
Or about me and the hub caps I took

We were talking about the wrong things
Like those who believe rich is gold and diamond rings

We were who they told us the other wanted
These were lies from a society that’s been haunted

Haunted by a liar
Listening to only desire

Ignoring natural truth
Playing to illusions of the youth

We talked right by each other
Not taking the time or bother

To look at our lives and say
Let’s look beyond today

Learn a deeper appreciation
Of each other’s natural inclinations

To move towards the natural life
Just be a husband and wife

Stop trying to impress
To get the other to simply undress

Now we see the hows and whys
We see the truths and lies

We know why are with each other
We know why we spend eternity together

Through lies and trickery
Some kinda Satanic Witchery

She hid my honor and dignity
She waited and hunted just for me

The eye of the tigress
Possessed by this Sorceress

I was lost and found again
I surrendered so I could win

Told her it was an Iwo Jima strategy
She coldly laughed at me

Oh what is this, perchance
Has the Fool shown his ignorance?

Jap’s did invite them in
But, the US finally did win

Silently my soul waited
As the gears in her’s contemplated

I knew if she built this on lies
She had no good reason to destroy the prize

My death, I said, would be an honor
My lack of concern deeply disturbed her

See, God appreciates professionalism
Even if it involves the ole soul body schism

When you are guaranteed a fortuitous re-birth
It makes it a pleasure for me to leave this here Earth

It’s like I get my own DLC
Special Mods created just for me

I was hoping she’d come through with her threat
I’ve tried to re-spawn for years and haven’t gotten back yet

An honor impossible to properly portray
An honor impossible for me to ever repay

In that moment when I should have felt revulsion
I realized I always respected her even without compulsion

She was a tricky witch
Who just wanted to be my special bitch

Now, I’m confused
I feel deeply used

Now it feels hard for me to trust
Because she felt our bond something to rush

Since, I like to write for all
If you happen to like a morale:

Don’t rush to try to force your fate
The prize comes at times to the one who waits

Trust in inspiration
Life is more about improvisation

Climbing a hill to practice hypnotism and brew potions
Is such a waste when one can simply ride a stream to the Ocean

Remember to keep it simple
Avoid magic, churches, and temples

Live in the light
And you’ll be all right

I think you’ll find God’ll provide what you need
And, if you’re so inclined, prolly a bit of weed…

Can’t think straight
Can’t motivate
I sit and wait

I stare into an abyss
Wondering, how I did this

It was really true
Did she feel it too?

I wonder why
I can’t even try

I don’t eat
My fear we’ll never meet

Again
I hold my pain

Don’t sleep
Occasionally weep

What the fuck?
Used to have the devil’s luck

The life of the Fool
The card who never follows rules

Now I’m a ghost
Desire crippling me the most

Like a rocket car
My ride to the stars
Now it is dark

Okay write a poem?
Um, I guess my mind is blown

I’m listening to voices
Doing things that aren’t my choices

Now it’s quiet
Okay not worth the riot

Original Mamasita
Original Gangsta

Con todos mi corazon
You could always turn me on

With blues eyes
Beauty never lies

My dark-haired Sucubus
The future belongs to us

Sleepless nights
Setting shit right

Like me you have the mind, manic
For me you lead the path shamanic

Not always as she seems
Sometimes truly a fairy queen

The soul of butterfly knife
Beautiful wings a gateway of life

Original Gangsta
My lil Mamasita

She’s the Angel of Inglewood
Teaching me things no one else could

On the West-side of town
With her eyes deep and brown

Taking me places I want to be
Showing me better ways to be me

Teaching me to tolerate myself
Teaching me to go ahead and ask for help

She ever so quietly
Teaching me humility

Showing me my own humanity
Showing me the lies I tell to me

She says I’m not so bad
Thoughts I’ve had were had

They are not me never were
Just had to yell at the wall to know for sure

She is my confessor
A compassion professor

She’s my angel of Inglewood
The girl who showed me my good