Buried

A chilling wind cut through the woolen coat of Thomas Crenshaw. A light drizzle did not improve upon the cold he was to endure for the next hour. Such proceedings were known to take enough time to dehumanize the man facing the gallows, in this case, Thomas's father. His family, of course, was the first to arrive. All dressed in Sunday's best, Thomas and his two younger brothers, Adam and Patrick, wearing suits and ties, his mother and sister, Maggie, wearing long dresses and overcoats, all wearing countenances stricken with grief ,fear and confusion. For Michael Crenshaw was indeed at home with them at the time of the unspeakable crime. 

Fifteen minutes passed, more of the townspeople began to arrive. All knowing the victim, all knowing the wrongfully accused, all knowing the accused was innocent. Yet under foot of a corrupt power structure, not a word was said for fear of being punished most horribly. Attendance of public executions were deemed mandatory by Mayor Archbold. So as the time drew closer to noon, the crowd grew from twenty to One-hundred- fifty-five people.

The overcast sky, the constant drizzle, and the persistent bitter breeze set the mood perfectly. Somber and silent, the townsfolk awaited the arrival of Michael Crenshaw and Mayor Archbold. Soon enough, they arrived, Michael in shackles, muslin shirt, bloodied and bruised, followed by Mayor Archbold's posse of wrectched goons posing as men of the law. Mayor Archbold's carriage arrived next. A stout man with a thick mustache poke his head out of the carriage, then opened his umbrella and walked slowly to the stage, so that the farce could then begin. First sight of her husband, Thomas's mother commenced her sobbing, that over weeks would become a silent despair.  

Mayor Archbold approached the podium, and delivered his first monologue of this pitiful play. 

"Michael Crenshaw, Ye' are hereby sentenced to death by hanging for the crimes committed on April 13th, 1855. The rape, murder and mutilation of the corpse of 14 year old Mary Owens. Her body was discovered at one o'clock April 14th, naked, brutalized, and missing her right hand. Such vile acts in our community cannot go unpunished. A man who would steal the innocence of a child the age of his eldest son, must not be allowed to live. Michael Crenshaw raped this child, strangled her, then severed her right hand. For this he must be put to death, we must fast track his journey to hell. Are there any objections?"

The crowd answered in silence, the only sounds heard were soft cries and wind rustling. Thomas looked around at the faces surrounding them, every set of eyes refused to met his gaze. Shame painted every single face, for they knew of Michael's innocence, but could not bring themselves to call out . Thomas found this to be more than he could bear. Mayor Archbold was getting away with murdering his father, because his friends and family were stricken with cowardice of the worst kind. This must be stopped.

Fist clenched, Thomas drew a deep breath and called out, "Liar! Everyone here can attest to my father's innocence,"
he pushed his way closest to the gallows and turned to face the crowd, "A town populated with cowards! Someone speak up and defend my father, because the testimony of children and women fall on the deaf ears of corrupt men."

Thomas woke up disoriented. His thoughts were cloudy, and his head was filled with indescribable pain. He reached up and touched a rather large knot on the back of his head, it was still caked with blood. One of Archbold's pigs had knocked over the head with a night stick. Thomas stood up, dressed and walked into the living room of their house. His mother sat staring out the window. Adam and Patrick were sitting by the stove talking amongst themselves. Maggie was in her bed sleeping. 

He walked to the pantry, pulled out a few pieces of jerky and an apple, then walked back to his room. Thoughts of revenge filled his mind. He was powerless, though. He had no strength nor ability to fight. In spite of this, he thought, my father must be avenged. However, he had no clue as to where to start or how to come about the ability to weild weapon or fist. 

His mother's silence drove Thomas harder over the course of the next  three years. In retaliation to his remarks, a few of Archbold's men had slaughtered their horses and spread fear to anybody willing to lend or sell livestock to the Crenshaws. Thomas wore the plow's harness and plowed the fields with Adam, who was only a year younger. They took over their father's duties. Plowing, planting, harvesting, chopping wood for the stove and fire. Feeding cattle, herding the sheep. Everything was the productive of their labor. 

Without realizing what he had done, he had gained strength, with the thought of vengance in his mind, and love for his father in his heart, he decided to leave home in order to gain the skills necessary to avenge his father and free his home from the wretched tyrant ruling over his family and friends.

A Not So Orderly Trip Through My Poetry/Lyrics

"What's It Mean?"

One pack of cigarettes down the drain
Of a convenient store parking lot.
He swears he's kicking the habit,
And she proceeds to whisper
"I love you."
Her eyes start to wander around again
They all claimed it happens a lot.
He goes and asks her about it
And she proceeds to whisper
"I love you."
Like it's some goddamn cure all
To every fucking problem that strays her way.
Like it's some goddamn trite phrasethat all the unfaithful lovers in trouble say…

Like it's meaningless…

Another glass of wine has been emptied
Star gazing from a second story balcony.
The bottle is flung into an empty field.
And He slurs and yells,
"Yeah, I love you."
Another night spent dreaming of what could be
And how he fought this off so desperately
Yet failed to struggle to make wounds heal.
So, everything fell
Straight fucking through.

She says
She has
No regrets…
It's for
The best
To forget…

And that's what he'll do.

"Abrasions Caused By Collisions With Reality"

Fell down in wet grass
Scraped knees and sprained wrists
Quick Storms Ruined Glass
Notes Crumpled in Fists

She left another letter on your doorstep
"Go find another lover for your bedspread
I've found someone new to use" "You mean abuse."
All because you had to go shorten your fuse.

Snuck Late Night Phone Calls
Fireflies Filled Jars
Of Another Fall
Sat, Stared, Spoke In Cars

You stood there madly pleading, "Please don't leave me!"
She turned so quickly, leaving, "Don't follow me!"
An Abrupt ending to this torrid tall tale
Documenting every attempt that has failed.

Once Fucked Over
Now, Twice Removed
One Lost Lover
Afford to Lose

It's raining now, and your walking home
You pass her apartment; she's all alone.
Her framed Silhouette Moves Gracefully
Against a backdrop of uncertainty…

Don't travel up…

Don't travel up…

Don't travel up those stairs tonight.
It's for the better anyway.

"Starry Nights and Broken Toys"

All my stakes at loneliness have drowned me in regret.
I used to light sticks and toss 'em back just to forget
Every time that that I succumbed to every second guess
When you said you loved me and I replied, "Wanna bet?"
And the starry night filled the void
Left in my chest when you toyed
With my ideas of never leaving here
I found release from all my fears.

Evil Lies in the faces of everyone you meet
While running races on a crowded city street.
It's the difference amongst men and the painful defeat
Of all of her sad stories that she never could repeat.
And starry nights fill the void
Left in your chest while I toyed
With the idea of leaving you here
Bound and gagged by your own fear.

I know where evil lies, always in the hearts of men
Who will murder, cheat, and steal in order to command
The lives of the less fortunate, those condemned
To naivety and to be used until the end.
When the starry night fills the void
After the days of playing toys
With those you've met while playing here
They're bound and gagged by their fear.

The fear of loosing who they thought themselves to be,
Tools to be used, clay to be molded, souls never free
And I am sure as hell that you're as guilty as me.
Taking advantage of those who are more than willing.
The starry nights won't fill the void
When you're playing with your broken toys.
You're thoughts of finally leaving here
Stop, bound and gagged by all your fear.

Random Party Conversation
With Commentary
#001

She Says "You have such a way with words."
He Replies, "You must bring out the poet in me
Because usually I stutter…
Usually, I mutter,
But baby, you set my heart a-flutter,
And it gives me such command
Over the English language."
She Squeals "You say that to all the girls?"
He obliges, "No, no, no, just you, baby, just you."

The trading of lines
Becomes the utterance of cries
Then turns in to another number
That won't be called
And another midnight lover
That won't be remembered.

"What's So Wrong With What I Offer?"

Darlin' rest you head,
This will all be over soon.
Close your eyes, and think of him
On that wretched afternoon
When he threw you down
And tore your yellow dress.
After you passed out,
He took what you had left.
So pull the trigger
You'll find it's very easy.
And after the first few times,
My love, you won't get so queasy.

The Devil I am.
The Master Of Sin
Stop Resisting
And let Me In.
I'll Make It All Better.
Light As A feather
You would would feel.
So Let's strike a deal.

Honey make your bed,
Your father soon will come
He's been drinking again
And now he's looking for some fun.
He won't find it now
Not tonight, and not tomorrow.
They'll cover it up
As you wear a masque of sorrow.
(Cause,)
You pulled the trigger
You Found out just how easy
It was, and the first time
Didn't make you the least bit queasy.

The Devil I Am.
The Master Of Sin
Stop Resisting
And Let Me In.
I'll make it all better
Light as a feather
You would feel.
So, Let's strike a deal.

I am the deliverer, and the giver of strength.
Now, how can that be so bad.
They cover It up, they say just pray.
Forget the nightmares you have.
Forget the nightmares you have.

Sometimes relief is found in sin.

"Reasons of the Innocent."

The Children believed enough in love to kill for it.
So one night, they crept in and made a mess of things.
The walls covered, the carpet drenched, the hands stained
Their lives and names will never be the same.
It was never meant to turn out like this,
It was just a little childish prank
That was taken to far...
It just got out of hand
With a pistol in hand.

Shoved in his face, to scare him into revealing
His skeletons. He bears the burden like a cross,
Playing the fucking martyr like a broadway actor,
"It's her fault not mine, I ju--" The last words echoed
Followed by a lovely lullaby
Sung by a bullet to the head.
This was taken to far...
It just got out of hand
With a pistol in hand.

Taken out back, packaged like a bleeding swine.
They placed him in his proper place, a shallow grave
For a shallow man. Lusting for flesh, he's lusting for earth.
Food for his brethren, taking her and their innocence with him
Underground, never to return.
They'll never speak of how
It was taken to far...
It just got out of hand
With a pistol in hand.

The air in the room quickly soured
When Betrayal met the final hour.
The Children believed in love enough to kill for it.
So, they crept in one night and made a mess of things.

"Of Being and Nothingness"

I awoke to a dream this morning
Upon parting, words were exchanged
And questioned which of us is real?
Which reality are we to choose
To resided in or to forget?
Which dream will we condemn ourselves to?
Which "Who, what, when and where" will be lost
Amongst crumpled pages and used erasers?

I'm trying to decide how this story ends…
Who will die, when and in what way?
All the players this time are the ways
Of a torrid esoteric creation.
I can no longer write this tragedy,
The ink flow on this pen has long since dried up.
The end only takes place in my dreams
And I don't care to be stirred just yet.

We lie in wait, ready to be written
But we're afraid of the unseen outcomes.
We live only in our Writer's mind.
Cherishing each syllable
Cherishing each stroke on page

"Fireworks Were Spoken Of"

Breathing hard while chasing dreams
Through all the doubt provided
By every circumstance
Eager to do nothing
But attempt to drag us down
Be we still awake
With our heartbeats intertwined.

Words stacked clumsily
To build frail sentences
To mask the fright of a boy
Much to afraid of losing
The girl he has fallen for
And with each day passing
He grows a little stronger.

Now months have slid by
And bring forth a cold so warm
In the hearts, hands, and arms
Of every single lover.
Hearts now seem to bust
And overflow, filling in
Every void in our minds
Leaving us safe and free.

We sit, catching our breath
And leading with our hearts.
Following the different paths
Of the separating parts.

"Doing Donuts in Outer Space"

A tragic beginning to an otherwise happy ending
It's come full circle now, and girl I soon won't be around.
You see I am easily confused by all these signals you're sending,
And you're the type to cause trouble just to listen to the sounds
I make as you're ripping off my fingernails.

Leaving's never been this easy, thanks for the shove forward
Into oncoming traffic, it was a real thrill being hit
By that semi going 90, danger rushing toward
The end of our dead end road of a relationship
Highways leading to the open gates of hell

I am sure I may still be a little bit bitter
But the last time you left me high and dry, I died of thirst.
I ended up replacing the blood in my veins with cheap liquor
And told every single girl after, "yeah, love, you're my first."

It'd just roll off my tongue, on hopeful ears fell.
I fell in love with life and the pain you provide, dear.
We seem to feed our hearts with what we fear.
Something meaningful is taking place
And all we are interested in is saving face.

"Oppressive is the English Language"

It happens to be, that changing
Is as difficult as singing.
Even though I am more than willing
It never matters much at all.
A poet without a way with words
Has quickly and easily been lured
Into a trip of mindless detours.
Disappearing into an endless fall.

Damaged goods, do you still accept,
What's your return policy on regret?
I'll write a song so I won't forget
Every single thing we went through.
We swear, we claim, there's nothing but hate,
But now and then we captivate
Each other on accident, it's too late
To prove the hidden truths to you.

So here's to another honest love song
That's been in the making for far too long.
Though the words I speak come out wrong,

"Rebecca"

So Rebecca, I've read a book
And it reminded me of you.
I wasn't good enough back then
And now that I've "grown up" you're here.
I've studied some, cleaned up my look
As for money, I've earned a few
Just so you'd come around again.
I won't lose you again my dear.

Dear Rebecca, you're still a kid
Unaware of the shit you do
And how it affects leering men.
You drive them to insanity.
I found those letters that you hid.
The ones you lover wrote to you
Are you going to tell me when
I'll drink away infinity.

Go Rebecca! Get the fuck out
You've taken another paramour.
The last time I just let it go
And I continued trusting you.
Now these red marks lead me to doubt
What exactly did you adore?
A Note, "I wanted you to know
I said I loved you, and it's true"

Letters with betrayal scrawled
In the post script, and on the walls.

And you know what that means. I am hurt... but will get over it. I am back to writing. I actually quit for a long while. Here are some Haiku new and old. 

Your tongue is the barrel of a gun
Desperately thrust,
inside my mouth.

Fire, and Brimstone
Endless cries of tortured souls,
You'd feel right at home.

Vanilla scented
Candles in a dimly lit room
haunt my daydreams....

Cold hands finding warmth
in the stranger's next to you,
you both felt at home....

All The Negative
And All I Remember:
Winter Was Warm This Year....

With Every Complaint
I Begin To Wonder: What
Made You Such A Bitch?

The Man On TV
Is Attempting To Lie Me
Into Buying Shit.

The First Time I Heard
That Cute High Pitched Laugh Of Hers
I Knew It Was Love.