loneliness?

originally wrote this sometime
in september of last year
but only just now deciding to post it:

this came to me while
listening to the song below
for maximum effect
click play if it's not
auto playing and then read

most don't know what loneliness is
they think of it as a memory in passing
being single for a while and sad
loneliness is an isolation of a soul
imprisoned from the rest of the world
an alienated person tossed aside like
old shoes with worn soles
even worse when the person is looked down upon
loneliness is an out cast from birth
second best and second rate
doing the best they can but it's not good enough
loneliness is a failure of a life
giving up and wasting away
a train that crashes into a steel wall at terminal velocity
loneliness is a tear shed from an aching or broken heart
a heart that loved so much,
but got left behind every single time it opened up
loneliness is an empty husk, the shell of a heart
what remains after the world and it's hunters got a hold
nothing but bones, cartilage, sinew, and offal left
after the hunters take their pick of the good meat
loneliness is the reflection of a mirror in an empty room
curtains blowing in the wind a comforting sight
loneliness is a contemplative mind with no one to talk to
like screaming down an empty hall
no one to hear, no one to care
loneliness is writing these pointless words into this blog
a pouring of me into a place where no one cares
loneliness is an over weight, middle aged man
sitting in an empty room
trying to find the strength to find a reason for being
trying his best to stay alive
loneliness is finding a comfort in the thought of no tomorrow

9-11-2019

thoughts and feelings after listening to the song at the bottom
it should be auto-playing, but if not, click play then read.

the bitterness of a failed life flows from my mouth
as i exhale in sadness
i've turned into a warped, frustrated, angry man
angry at the world, but you'd never know it
as i open doors for people and smile at people
as i pass them by
spreading kindness, perhaps, to make up for what
is lacking completely in my life
a failure of life
i imagined, over and over, how life could have been
a torture of thoughts and emotions
......those waters are the roughest to swim through
i watch people in life, in traffic and in places
going nowhere in a hurry and cursing you for
not abiding to their desires,  to their life
you're evil because you are not like them
or you're evil because you're too different
to fit in any mold or group of thought or description
an alien among fellow people
......i wonder if mars is nice this time of year?
oh it's tiring and so weakening to me
to live labeled and branded
punished forever, every single day
still persecuted and hunted to this day
my birthday has become the most depressing
part of my life and wont ever be better
....those chains are the heaviest of them all
hiding away has been the only strategy
to cope with things as they are
but how lonely that is
sure, there's is a solace in solitude
but everyone needs love, and everyone needs a friend
i can't even remember what a real hug feels like
i don't remember the last time someone
touched my face out of love
i don't even know when the time time i heard
the words i love you and felt it too
oh hell, this world, this life is the strangest goddamned thing
i have ever seen or imagined
so bizarre, so abnormal
well, i am still here, somewhere between the lost memories
and the dried tear drops that have stained my face forever
trying to make sense of this world makes me more
confused than when i first started trying
and of course the failures immediately follow
a failure of life
there's not much i have done successfully
most everything in my life ends up in failure
and so why even try anymore.
the definition of insanity, doing the same thing
over and over expecting the results to change
so, giving up changes things, maybe
i'm so tired
tired of sleep disturbances, tired of aches and pains
tired of heart ache and body ache and head aches
tired of life giving me lemons and
expecting me to give tomato juice
dreams?? what are those?
only the means to disappointment and sadness
most everything has already been beaten out of me
im only middle aged and stuck in such a sordid state
oh well, at least the birds sing their songs and the wasps fly
to and from the crack in the neighbor's roof
and the cats lay in contentment with dreams of beauty
oblivious to an aching man with these nonsensical thoughts and feelings.
who i am anyway?? no one at all.
no one at all.

3-17-2019

i trip up on words most days
i write less, but i don't think less
in fact i think i think more
and trip up on the words more
and so writing less is easier
anyway what are words?
comparable to sand on the beach
comparable to the strands of hair on the head
there's a million and one of them out there
i see less meaning in words these days
even perhaps less meaning in my words
as time and effects take their toll
as the hunters and life perform a tag team
on my ability to dream
well, i guess i feel ok most days
just a repetition of the same things
i guess that makes me insane
you know, the whole
doing the same thing over and over
and expecting different results
actually, i don't really have much in the
way of expectations
expectations are the means to disappointment
and disappointment is the means to sadness
so i just survive
survive for nothing in particular
just to have something to do i guess
still maintaining a sober life
no drinking, no nothing
i try to find solace and coping in various ways
making music helps and music itself helps,
movies as well, but mainly old movies
i dont have much of the drive i once had
not much ambition left in me either
just a sustaining till the end type of mode
life has taught me things and it has destroyed me
just fragments of who i once was remain
who am i?
well, the cats are up to their usual activities
with the easy life
happy and content in their world
and i?
well, i don't have much left
it don't matter anyway

unfinished

this was written sometime in 2013
and sat in my drafts until now
it remains unfinished 
because i hit a mental block
each time at the end
and i dislike it mostly
as always click play on the
song first, if it's not auto playing

waves wash up on sun bleached shores
sparkling sun light reflections on the waters
in my mind i know the definitions
but to put it all in words is a whole different thing
the torrent of words and thoughts and memories
overwhelm
i try to keep my head above the waters,
but most days i drown
the water flows up and pushes small broken
branches and twigs around that lie on the shore
their dance, while the water holds and caresses them,
is a magic most don't even think about
i look up to see the tree limb reaching down
almost touching the water
i know how that feels
with things being always just out of my reach
unable to touch and hold them all
surrounded by missed possibilities
that's a dance i wished i never had to dance
leaves break off and blow in the wind
down on the water and on the land
their flips and rolls through the air
so carefree and gentle
oh lord, what that must feel like
then it's a dance of water or wind and leaves
the autumn winds blowing

untitled

a short little something that came to 
me while i was in the shower this morning
not really long enough for a song to be put into it
but i put one anyway 

poison me not with your words
let them fall into your own soils
to render whatever harvests for you
let me be unto my own struggles
unto my own soils and crops
that i may roam in my solace of silence
that one day i will fly higher than eagles

wounded...a journal entry of sorts

as per custom, scroll down and click
play, if it is not auto-playing
and then read

well, the holidays are here again
they always bring with them some happiness,
but also alot of sadness
i see all the others my age with families and kids of their own
i see the beauty of contentment
and i smile in knowing that there still exists that magic
i cant help but to feel sadness in that i didn't make it to that
i didn't get to be so lucky as to have a family of my own
a wife and kids and memories made
a bitter sweet thing to relish in seeing that beauty
and then to come back to my reality
........those winds blow strong and harsh
it's even worse, though, when i see those that
have that beauty and that magic
and still they throw it away for selfishness
or take it for granted and toss it aside
all the while there are those like me who
dream of such magic and beauty
i think i think too much
i used to dream too much too, but that was beaten out of me
too bad my thoughts and thinking too much
wasn't beaten out of me too.
i can't understand the majority of the modern world
it's ways and methods of things
i can't relate to most anything and apparently most anyone
and even in the small and few things i can relate to
i am separated in those things
standing alone in a room filled with people
screaming as loud as i can and not a single person hears
it's too bad we weren't given a choice,
before the sperm and egg cells are connected,
to decide to connect or not
to be born into this world or not
i wouldn't have came into this existence
too many tortures and heartaches and pain
of which started before i was even old enough to have a say in it all
with the needing attention and falling asleep on the floor
with the Ritalin that destroyed parts of me
and in fact can be argued that it ruined my life
i had to take, unwillingly, that pill from the time i was in
the first grade until i was a freshman in high school
doing my best was never enough
and anything i did try to do, there was always a boot
stamping down on me to stop me
and then, of course, as i got older, the destroying of my heart
the destroying of me
.....those pains are the worst of them all
i can not bear much more pains
i fear them all, the pains and heartaches
forced to sit at card card table and handed cards to play a game that
i didn't ask to play, given cards that will force me to lose
forced to play a game that NONE of us know how to play
a wounded animal will often run off and hide away
in a cave or burrow or under houses or in attics
they hide away to either heal or to die
i too have ran and hid away
my trouble is i've popped my head out a few times too soon
i should have stayed hidden away for longer
perhaps, i think, i should hide away for good

thoughts after waking up from a dream

after waking up from a dream
i decided to write my thoughts 
based off of the dream
as always scroll down first 
and click play if it is not auto
 playing and then read 

he burned his middle finger on his right hand
on a car cigarette lighter when he was a kid
the scar, lasting forever, in the shape of a T
he burned his hand by spilling boiling water on it
the blisters bubbled up for days
he burned his ankle once when a burning ember
fell into his shoe after he stomped on a fire
it took forever to take the shoe off it seemed
but the worst burn of all is when he got burned
by his hearts desires
burned by the love of his life
the world has always burned him throughout the years
in various different ways and in different times
no ashes left behind, just a loss of himself
smoke rises in the form of mental haze
fleeting thoughts and memories
a billowing pillar, overcast skies
he wasn't meant for this world
his heart was too big for such small spaces
an easy target
he never truly fit in anywhere he went
with such a big heart, it's no wonder he
was able to handle so much damage and burns
the older he got, the more out of place he felt
when he was a very little boy
between the ages of 1 and a half to 3, he used to cry for his mom's attention
but mom, having a newborn daughter, couldn't attend to him
so he would wait for her at her feet, sitting and
eventually laying on the ground,
but he would always fall asleep
before she was able to get to him
so then she would just put him in his bed.
but he had no memory of this until his mother
told him in his middle age
but it would echo in his mind
it brought memories to mind that he had long forgotten
the comforting feeling of cool slate floor tiles against his cheek
as he laid on the ground waiting
then to lift his head up and feel of his cool cheek with his hand
he often thought that it was so much better in those times
because there was, at least, something to comfort and soothe him
even if it was the cool slate floor tiles against his cheeks
and often times those slate tiles would also have puddles of his tears
he remembered talking to birds through his bedroom window
eventually learning how to whistle to call a flock of
birds to the roof of the neighbor's house
he always dreamt that one day he would find the beauty of life
and live in eternal peace and love, but eventually that dream,
turned into a torture, a fleeting aspiration that, like all the
other aspirations and dreams he once had, he had to let go of
the world has been at war with him since the day he was born
but he is tired these days.
oh
    so
        tired...