You lurk in chat rooms talkin
bout what you'd like to do.
All naked accept for a captian's hat.
Ya know after hello it's probaly
not best to ask do you wanna *****.

Mr pervert do you enjoy.
Taking trips to mexico maybe to take in a
show.
Getting beat with a wire hanger
being called a bad boy.

Were ya born with a ***** loose?
Did uncle Charlie get to friendly
and papa John slip something in your juice?

Do you really like farm hand dot com
thats just wrong.
No Mr pervert I dont wanna see pics of you
covered in oil wearing a thong.

And im really not into what ya can fit
up your ***.
Glad to know what happend to that goon
at the back of the class.

No you cant have my number.
Okay your a woodman.
Please I really dont need any pics of
your lumber.

No I dont wanna wrestle in the dark you freak.
Yes im happy you enjoy being beat every
other day of the week.

You really need some help.
Yes I think to catch a preditor would be a
great show for you to make a appearence.
No I dont wanna play airlane.
so ***** your clearence.

Please why cant that connection to
your basement just go out.
Guess what your doing now.
Well to be honest I know without a single
doubt.

I can imagine what its like to be you.
well ***** that cause theres some ****
so freaky even I wont do.

So when ya see that name appear
on the screen it's probaly best to ignor.
I mean unless your really into hanging out
with a lathred up nut who eats outta
a dog dish apon the floor.

I was flipping through the channels
and to no suprize what did I see.
why dateline with Chris Hanson and
Mr pervert on my t.v.

I had to laugh at  every word said.
Gooodbye Mr pervert.
Didnt take a geinus  to figure out
you were ****** up in the head.

The radio glows filling the
darkness with phantoms I call
old friends.

They gather to haunt my thoughts
along with you.
And I recall that dance so long ago.
It's become a fine wine Id rather
admire than taste again.

As that look I remember so very well.
We erase the parts that get in the way
of are dellusion filled spell.

The leaves change only to fall
apon ***** streets.
Where others trace thoose same steps
as you and I.

And in the darkness I remember.
as a heartbroke soul's voice calls
through the night.

As shadows  dance and the whiskey
glimmers within the glass.
She's there but a ghost within my lap
her chill brings warmth.

That memorie calls to me as the bottle
is better admired than cracked.
It's passion contained  for another.

Life does fade apon the gleam
of a blade.
Candles are better for birthdays
and little kids cakes.

Fire is shared between two in a kiss.
Reflection mixes well on just another
night like this.

Page unwritten  hand never to be
played.
Outcasts sitting at center stage.
When you never showed love.
It's no need to question why no one ever stayed.

And you never wondred and new better
to ask.
Cause people grew tired of the game.
And you of the mask.

Deep emotin with which like
overgrown children we play.
Gone in a second.
Was it love or just another day.

Torn sails endless flow.
Blocks and miles.citys and backroads.
Like any flock we scatter.
Only to lose track the futher we go.

Dellusion speaks well amoungnst friends.
You see it's the last farewell.
But with truth in are thoughts
everyone pretends.

Are you okay everyone does ask.
You give a expected reply.
And slip into oblivian slowley
fading behind your mask.

One may be  fun
but several can be even better.
She's got that  certin something.
But dam if her sister doesnt look  good  in that sweater.

Had this problem  since  I was  like five.
Two  might  be  tricky.
But ******* off ten  your lucky to be alive.

Im not a man *****  just gotta alot of  love to share.
A tiger  does fear text.
And Nine  irons  okay and left behind underwear.

I think theres a problem  when your black book
reads longer  than gone with the  wind.
I swear honey there's nothing going on.
She's just  a really hot shoulder inwhich I can depend.

Saying goodbye never has been much fun.
Bullet proof  vest  taser   peper spray no it"s
not a riot
Just taking caution  probaly be easier breaking up with only
one.

Hey if it works for hugh's old wrinkled *** then
why not me.
But at this pace I'll  be lucky to make it past
thirty three.

I think theres a problem but that's okay.
Cause if I get the boot.
I got some friends  with benfits  house's
inwhich I can stay.

Im not bad  just a lotta fun.
Cardio is key.
When she pulls out the meat clever
dont play stupid just run.

And if I seem terrible keep in mind
it takes two to tango.
For what is the banna without the mango.

I think  theres problem that I really dont
wanna fix my dear.
Im a bit of a effection ******.
***** the cold shower how bout a warm bed and
a beer?

Call me terrible cause hell even I know
I'm not right.
We should  take this slow.
So how bout we discuss this in a hot tub tommorow night.

And if I did offend  with these word I've spoken.
Then please pull the twig out your backside.
Grab a drink have some fun cause was only jokin.

Sometimes when i say goodbye.
I wonder how I hold it togather befor
the phone touches the reciever.

Does she know the pain I mask.
Memories make us drunk with emotion.
Time makes us bitter from the cold.

And in the darkness she brings light.
Under the ice she creates warmth.
She kisses  the past away.

My shelter in which to run
If I choose to lead so does she follow.
Two halfs of one heart.

Weve walked across broken glass to lay
in a feather bed.
The nights passionet flow
her head apon my chest.

And how could I find one so perfect for me.
Distance takes the heart and traces the tear.
Such comfort brought from the understanding.
That pain would be erased if she were here.

Jules i see that next day as a promise
set in stone.
That from that first hello
we found in one another a reason to never be alone.

The highway rolls into the horizen
eternal is the love.

As a sun sets apon the ocean we stand
my arms wrapped around you waves crash into the shore.
In love I give everything.
For i could spend a lifetime here with you.
And still thirst for more.

With words we struggle to say.
What flows from the pen.
Also bleeds form the soul and that
shall never go away.

The page laughing at me the canvas cold and blank.
Winter filled room in the middle of june.
Why had my heart run a ground on such jagged shores.

Now I scavage for remains of my soul.
ragged I wonder would anyone remember me apon my return.
Would she stand smile apon face and regret in heart.

The page stayed empty for a reason.
They were all gone the great titles along with there writers.

Me the fool brave or foolish enough to  attempt the
impossible  with little to show for it.
A broken relationship and some bad tattoos  in
some  weird places.

To be stuck down in a  hollow .
Is fine  with suplies low and the truth a sober mind brings
time was ticking the false deadline was apon me.
And like a kid trying to cram in every answer on a school test.
I was stuggling  waitting for the teacher to say times up.

Hands shaking from the need throat dry  and a headache
that would last for a week.
Why had it always come to this  isolation.

Maybe it was the roads way of calling me back.
Like a lover calling me back to bed.
To entangle untill the mornings light.

Yet just like a passionet affair the struggle for the title
kept me trapped to this place for nights on end.
You cant grasp what is never yours its
like trying to see that sweet southern breeze.

Everytime you find  one with which your heart agree's
You find the titles taken.
life and love will always  bring you to your knees.


This is taken from what will be my first book
once through many long gin soaked nights is finally at it's final stages
and thank God cause it's been hell.
as of  now the title will be The Road Begins ?
Hell my friends if you can think of a better title to describe my writting feel free  to let me know   Always your slightly crazy  friend John Patrick Robbins

Better watch watcha do around the lab.
Dont let your hunch backed assistant play with chemicals.
Get your head out the coffin and your mother and law
off the slab.

For strange brew.
Can re animate old fiends.
And really mess with you.

One two three four.
You blink and from the grave rises more.
Yes your new discovery wont get your fellow mad
scientest clappin.
they just eat my neighbors oh well you reply.
Zombies happen.

They called out the national  gaurd seems ive created a mess.
People screaming what shall we do?
well run would be a good guess.

His worm filled mouth is open and i dont think
mr zombie wants a kiss.
people sreaming and running in terror shopping at
walmart has never been like this.

Uncle Walter after only seventy years its wonderful
thoose skeletal toes a tappin.
It's become wide spread so I must say.
My bad ya'll but zombies happen.

Hey it"s been awhile how ya doin like I care.
Writting little bits of misery isnt my style.
Drinking till dawn writting low brow poems is something
I do with such great flare.


John Patrick  you know the rest.
Never got a degree but i got something else.
more than a few times incase you havent guessed.

Turn off the lights i'll just use my hands to see.
Yes im way worse in person.
But ya know it just aint a party without me.

Were theres gasoline so should  there be fire.
Far from a saint.
But I have dated a couple girls who once sang in the choir.

You may won the contest but I really didnt lose.
cause you gotta ribbon and me  I gotta bottle of *****.

Guess who never paid attention in class?
I was to busy staring at the teachers.
Uhh miss hotness could i please have the hall pass.

Wonder what slowed us down  uhh probaly
when we hit that tree.
You know my friends it just isnt a party without me.

Hey folks they dont all have to be deep meaingful  im not nicknamed  gonzo for  nothing  cheers  my friends

For thoose of you who may not know.
Just call me gonzo I write the absurd for life is insane and sometimes
it takes a madman to speak the truth so very clear.

I write for the broken vacant faces that have lost all hope.
To the dreamer who's well is slowley running dry from everyone
telling him to stop wasting his time.

I write like a endless highway fueled by whiskey and wild women
every adventure leads to pain but life is pain and i love in spite of it.

I thirst for every unseen mile the desert my brother it's people dwell
in the spirt of the west the ***** parlors and brothels spirt still linger.
I write with a hint of danger and a promise of disaster.

Im a blues player whos trying to out run the devil.
Im a outlaw riding to cross the border a woman looking to the
empty range for my return.

I write because I breath in a world were the creative air has gone
stale.
The bottle sits apon table and I welcome any strangers company
I just rather that stranger be a warm woman instead of a
unfriendly amigo who is a little jelouse.

Write to be more than just part of the highways landscape.
Some may call me crude crazy insane some even ****** and
liar and thief.
But aside from thoose compliments.
No matter what you may call me.
Dont ever forget to just call me gonzo.

Paper latterns light the gardens path.
To a splendid night and a summer bath.

Rose peddles trampled under her feet.
As her form fill's the darkness.
hiding in the shadows trying to catch a peek.

Of the beauthy who gives life with her
kiss.
Magic seems real on a night like this.

On a night like this the world stands still.
when feelings are spent.
And emotions serve there own will.

She tempts the angels and makes the old young.
Climbing the invisable ladder.
Rung by rung.

Green tea she sips while drifting down
a lonley night.
A painters brush draws a tear at her sight.

Golden hair cold blue eyes.
She breaks hearts with sugar coated lies.

Jasmine fills the air.
With love and memories to share.
nothing about her seems real.
She acts unfazed  with mass appeal.

Often is her coldness mixed with rejection.
She surrounds herself with walls for
constant protection.

Living in a world of her own making.
Giving visions of passion for the dreamers taking.

No matter her ways still someone she does miss.
As the wind travles  through the trees.
She reflects on a night like this.

She fills the emptyness with a secret innovation.
On a broken dream and a promised vacation.

Standing in the shadows soaking up her eternal bliss.
Romance and passion.
Come togather on a night like this.

this is a very old write of mine i found in one of many old comp books
just thought it sounded decent  i belive i wrote this about five years ago when i was to scared to show a friend let alone strangers my work.
anyways alot has changed since

In many travels across this melting *** of a country I have found that every small town has it's own cast of characters every group has the ******* who cant handle
*****.
The party girl who gets crying and wishes she could start all over again.
And the one to busy living this life to give a **** about what you think or how your
feeling.

After a couple  of weeks it gets to anyone the sense of not belonging.
the constant movement  it eats away at you like rot gut whiskey.
Once even though in agony you so joyfully keep pouring down your throat.

And the conversations become the same are we but playing a game
saying whatever it takes to get what we want.
But what is it we truley want?

Comfort of a warm body by are side the feeling of flesh apon flesh.
It has to be more than just *** but out here I belive its to feel
what its like to benormal and for one moment pretend you wont  be
walking out that door to chase sun once agian.
Living like a pirate apon the land.

Not matter her body's warmth when you leave you never havea chance to
know the bad or the reallity of people.
thats why im forever a tourist.

Maybe it was the city's lights that took your
eyes from mine and lead you astray.
memories made in rythm with the citys traffic.
empty barooms waitting to create tales of another day.

Hands held tightly still can slip from anyones grasp.
Hearts filled with passion change without notice.
Old locket loves are bound by rusted clasp.

A walk to togather is so much better than one alone.
Attached by more than words.
Dim lit streets and a sometimes working pay phone.

City your cruel and unforgiving to all.
Cold as a park bench for a bed.
Tugs haunt the water over the sea's wall.

Cheap wine fire from the barrel.
The city reflects a vision of wicked carol.

So does the sun bid farewell to the day.
As the poets take to pen.
I reflect apon the citys lights that lead
your eyes astray

Shadows Apon The Floor

Music within the air memories to
heal the bitter soul.
The sounds of the past come to life
in rock n roll.

The lights from the stage.
Cast ghost's of many.
Taking us all past the pressent.
To a perfect timeless age.

Nights of passion that exist evermore.
Casting the sprits magic.
dancing with the ghost's light's
casting shadows apon the floor.

Secrets of lovers and new best friends.
We kiss blindley taseting the magic.
For that moment all is real no
one pretends.

As the night flows like a curtain apon
a gentle southern breeze.
From the floor to the legend
this night does ease.

We write are own chapters all
ading in lifes book.
Regrets should be few.
For out of this night as much as we gave
we also took.

Hearts entangled memories forever
do we adore.
Dancing with ghosts of lovers past.
Keeping time with the shadows apon
the floor.

Partys for couples new lovers and just friends.
Music to fill the night the streets of New york
breath life to old flames keeping even jaded souls warm.

The lonley gather round the TV.
sharing a glimpse at something we all yern to have.
And from the up high the streets seem magic tonight.

the soudtrack of the night will echo
into are hungover minds with a painful yet happy reminder
of last nights celebration.

Late night lovers will smile and go there awkward ways.
So many acts in so many different plays.
creeping back to are corners in lastnights suit and tie.
Tight little black dress kiss worn lips
acting happier than two kids ragged in need of a shave
you with hair in a mess.

And for friends that gather to relive not so real
past glory.
The pages are left to the writter.
To add to lastnights not so original story.

As the barflys gather to battle another unsober day.
I watch this first new day anew.
Take a sip from my flask and thank the lord
for one more year with you.

And tonight I say to you all raise that glass.
kiss that stranger you know so well.
Laugh love and live.
And thank whomever ya choose weve made it through another
year to tell.

My father worked the plant as
his father befor.
We worked until are hands bled and
are backs were sore.

History we made and many fine men spent there lives
in this very place.
Founded the union.
we are the backbone not a copperate
face.

Didnt bat a eye just said goodbye
catching the first outta town bus.
They saved there over payed *****
but what about us.

The working class people who gave there
sweat and tears.
A town inwhich the factory was built.
Old and young share bitter reflections over
stories passed down through the years.

More than jobs left with the closing
of the factorys doors.
Pain echos from broken souls.
it comes into are very essense seeps into the floors.

Years of memories gone without a
fuss.
They crunch numbers but were people.
You saved a billion but a whole town
ask's what about us?

Tired of the same old scenes around here.
Thought hey im gonna explore space.
Introduce Little space dudes to bad habbits
nudie mags and maybe share a beer.

Yeah it'll take some getting use to
anti gravity bars.
Pack up the whiskey and of course the kids
honey cause were moving to mars.

People kinda look at me like my
mind did slip.
just cause im going round collecting cans.
Hell with what else are ya supposed use to
build a spaceship.

I made a few changes it runs of corn whiskey
instead of rocket fuel.
You might think im crazy.
but when my home made rocket takes off
it'll be cool.

Say goodbye kids to your ***** grandfather Bert.
Hey darlin from up here I can see down your shirt.

It's three seconds to lift off people
ya might wanna move your houses as well as cars.
Cause lord knows whats gonna happen.
in my attempt to move to mars.

Its time for lift off crap honey do ya mind lighting
fuse.
Hey kids after this maybe we'll get a reality
show.
I mean if we dont die  that would only make the local
news.

The homade rocket ship rattle and shook.
I knew i forgot something I mean it's a minor thing.
Steering wheels are overrated guess I should have got a book.

And as it lifted off into the sky.
I screamed like a little girl.
I forgot I was affraid to fly.

Yes I kinda fell short on my quest to the stars.
cause i crash landed in New Jersy.
Well kids sorry but Atlantic City is probaly
a bit more fun for daddy that is.
So much for moving to Mars.

I am empty as the page that sits befor the flustrated poet.
Pain trapped in heart without words to put to pen.
Shaking cold knowing full well my time has passed as swiftly
as train through a midnight so very clear.

The road behind me I can longer recall.
Faces and places shallow as a drying river bed.
Life has taught me to put up wall.

Stolen moments from a welcome barstool.
One of many jesters in this fools
kingdom I do rule.

The clock of my life grows closer
to closing time.

When walk out that door it's left to others to recall.
reflect in the thoose smokey dark corners.
How many of you ever did know me at all.

Thinking of times never had.
Missing friendships that never were.
To fail means at least you did try.
The road never ends so why must I?

We knew love together hand in hand.
Memories are still living.
With are walks apon the sand.

Seashells in a old wooden box.
The oceans spray.
A vanishing form down by the old
docks.

A bottle without a message
comes in with the tide.
Try as I must this pain
I cannot hide.

That old lighthouse stands as
strong as should I.
The tide changes yet never does die.

Nights move  like a forgotten  ghost unwanted by all.    
A vision  unseen to all but one.

Down damp streets he haunts the same path every night just befor the dawn.
The empty hearts gather to drown togther in the sea.

Togther feeling so very alone.
Can we cast shadows in the darkness project happiness in such gloom to return the   same old haunts again and again.
A wheel  rolling  without question.
On into the emptyness of my night.

Waitting for a return that  never will be.
Cursing the problem never understanding it was her and me.
As the dream turn to the drunk.

The painter paints no longer sunsets but
Nights and his thoughts of blue to gray.

Warmth in the darker corners gives a view to
the young and  the still hopefull.
Tiping my half empty glass I wish them to never know pain.

Finding a home with other empty hearts caught.
In ***** sheets im haunted by the ghost of my
former self.

A puddle stepped in cast waves of reflected neon light.
As we play a roll unknown to all  
At typewritter  I sit.
Listening to To the bar and bottles clatter men and women's
laughter and soon forgotten fight.
Yerning to be free so is the emptyness of my night.

To it they all fall.
Nameless faces to the game.
Boroken in shame into empty spaces they do crawl.

One has to win for the other to lose.
The road takes many turns.
But we all meet defeat no matter which you choose.

Busted knuckles burnt bridges leaving
a callus heart sore.
Life appears in many forms from the floor.

Ive tasted bitter endings claimed
in regret.
Nights the soul does drift.
To a place I yern to forget.

Its a dream we no longer recall.
So distant to us now.
We question did we ever want it at all.

i'll gather my fragments oh a jaded heart
as I act blind while you head out the door.
Then colapse and take it one more time
from the floor.  

P.S.  Hey got Twitter   JohnRobbins  its just like stalking
Ineed followers okay that sounds weird haha.

What I want for christmas dont fit under that
tree.
Cause it dont involve to much shopping.
Just very little clothes a warm bed and you and me.

You can warp yourself in a bow.
Well share some special holiday cheer.
Over the bed is the perfect place to hang the misletoe.

What I want my dear ya dont have to buy.
Have Ibeen good all year.
Well honey I did try.

Why miss claus I never knew you shopped at
fredricks of holywood.
Spike that eggnog turn down the lights.
we'll try to keep it a silent night
but I dont think we could.

Baby I want the same pressent every year
and for that matter why not every day?
Im just in the holiday spirt what can I say.

Yes from santa I expect a lump of coal.
Makes me wonder why santas so jolly.
Hey I wonder do they gotta ******* at the north pole?

What I want for christmas is a bottle of wild turkey
and you in my bed.
Yes it's more like the ******* mansion.
Than sugar blums dancing in my head.

So my wish for this christmas to yours and you.
keep these holidays happy instead of crazy pulling
out your hair listening to Elvis singin bout a christmas
so blue.

No Matter The Floor You Pass Out On

I awake as any other madman slash poet.
Apon the floor  naked  pizza box for pillow a members only jacket for a blanket.
yes the libary sure has changed over the years.

less and less people were reading buggets were cut meaning
libraryies were under staffed and rarely did anyone dare venture into
the stacks  and thank good for that. Cause being i preffered free sleeping
it was probaly for the best.

but no matter the the floor you pass out on most all fine
american men wake up with are god given birth rite.
That which after a trip to the restroom like
that early morning madness that was christmas  pressent openning
was over way to fast and was kinda disapointing.

Floors werent the best beds in the world in fact they
****** altogather but drinking and common sense dont even
belong in the same room togather.

Portsmouth Va  was a strange world indeed a place where upscale colided with skidrow.
Me I preffer the company of a outdoor sleeper to that of a
spoiled spoon fed yuppie ****.
the art school cranked out angst ridden buble people by the second.

They walked the street soaking in the pain of life.
there heads stuck so far up there ***** I always felt compeled to trip them as they walked by.
acting as though they were outsiders  yerning to be mainstream
they'd **** there mothers on a mtv reality show as dad cried in the background.

Just for a taste of stardom.
True talent who needs that?
but no matter the floor you pass out on one
thing was clear.

In a world were you could have a bus load
of kids and get paid for it.
fame wasnt such a rare thing anymore.

The floor I passed out on was cold and cruel but surrounded
voices from the past.
the floor these hollow  reallity show bottom  feeders
passed out on.  Had to besoft as there heads.

Otherwise there brains would splatter across the floor.
And some TV exect would have a brainstorm  to have a show
were washed up celebrities would have a contest.

To see who could bore us the most with there sob story  
Yes friends id rather have a pizza box for a pillow
than a reality show  pillbox for a brain.

and the truth effectsus all form no matter
which floor so you do choose to pass out on.

The bright sky after the storm.
The rains smell washed clean.
confessions of the innocent gentle and forlorn.

As in visions we seek the a place beyond
what others can claim to have seen.
As the view does vanish.
we reflect apon its perfection as is
caught within a dream.

Hands of ice thoughts as stubborn
cast in stone.
To bitter to admit the pain
So prison from a view unknown.

In a dark landscape there may exist light
over the next ridge but who will journey to see.
It's a choice we must make to try and fail
or wallow in misery.

Children dream without limits so why should
we stop with time.
Age effects all like the pages
of a book of rhyme.

We dream so long only to marvle to the
monsters weve grown.
Thoughts for sale are a mystery.
from this view unknown

Were we a trainwreck  never ment to be?
So many opinions on you.
Yet the only one that ever mattered was from me.

Messages written last words scribbled apon my wall.
That ill fated lovestory  was my life.
So I recall.

Old friends make great rivals it does seem.
The journey took me from the nightmare.
To awake in a dream,

Such a small feeling soul standing  so very tall.
It was a delicate dance.
It was a perfect disaster  so I recall.

To lean apon a shoulder that looks to rest apon another.
Taking long walks to nowhere.
Looking into the empty eyes of a man once known
to me as a brother.

I've seen dreams fade with the setting sun.
When all hope has been lost.
To whom should I run.

First we stand untill we crawl.
These lessons of a tormented youth.
So very often I recall.

From this barstool i have sat waitting for some moment
of inspiration to come to me.
But the only thing that that comes to me is
a bartender with another drink.

And in empty reflection lost in a jukebox's song
played by a lonley heart shooting pool.
I cant recall where the spark went.
maybe it fell to floor like the ash from a cigarette.

the page waits at home like a wife waitting in worry as her husban is off doing God knows what.
So worried only wishing he'd return.
And when he does the fear fades and the anger kicks in.

The bottle doesnt hold a key but it does know me well.
I kiss it's fiery lips and cant resist it's charm.
so I sit with it passing hours in a dance that will end in
nothing but another wasted night  and a bitter morning taken
out apon my  mind.

In a swirl of hungover thoughts id leave half written pages.
To soon find themselves collecting with my ever growing arsenal  of
drunken rants.
All ending bitter and cold.

But when the whiskey hits I'll make such great plans
that will never be.  
I'll write that epic that will keep in the minds
other writers.
And in the warm arms of women who wanna love a
trainwreck just to say they've known what it's like.

Whiskey wishes are like sparks from a much larger fire.
the sparks fly off into the midnight sky.
only to fade befor are very eye.

My crowd  isnt the kind  who  would think of as upscale.
But there the kind  that might call ya at four in the morning
askin could ya post bail.

Yeah they may not be driving  the latest overpriced sports car.
But it's easy to find there soon to be clunkers.
Cause there always parked outside the local bar.

They'll  take there lunch at the *******.
Instead  of that country club fair.
To hell with the back swing.
Cause that dancer at the table's got a hell of a pair.

And the opera isnt are thing.
But dam if we dont get loud.
So happy being messed up welcome  to my crowd.

I say love thy neighbor   just dont get caught.
We didnt spend are summers in the hamptons.
Puff puff pass was some of the lessons we were taught.

Whiskey beer  and other accesories i spent most my
life with my head in a cannabis laced cloud.
Hey I might seem like rehab material to you.
But im just a ordinary fella  in my crowd.

After the smoke clears from this room.
Will question why.
As you push ME into  the depths.
As I lifted you from your self appointed gloom.

So take his hand cause happiness has another
name.
You can close your eye's.
but it's never the same.

Can we ever forget that which we did
not understand.
you hide the pain.
But secrets dig into your soul
like barbwire in hand.

She ran with what wasnt supposed to be.
Sweet suduction it was in such devlish fun.
To bad it was so very clear to all but me.

Under covers bodies without thought collide
locked in the passion of night.
Taking flustrations out in plessure.
You appear as a vision get your fix then vanish from sight.

Cheating the heart fractrued given to two.
You question  with lies.
As I yern to hold the woman I belive is you.

And so I exist in a mystery only you can
solve.
im the ***** secret across the tracks.
The dirt underfoot  in which my heart does revolve.

If only the feeling could last.
I question while off to another.
Would you stay it was you fading with the past.

Worn from it's trappings you crawl.
Wash away the truth.
Confession of pillow talk that
seep into the wall.

So is the story of the confussed woamn who
fractured her heart over two.
And the man who only did thirst for the
one he thought he knew

Hate the holidays well I got one for you.
Dont have to follow no rules.
Just drink till ya drop.
To what's the ocassion still ya
havent a clue.

Hey there missy.
dont **** and moan just grab a pint
ya big *****.

No need for a kleenex  just wipe that blood off
on your sleeve.
Stoner slacker and poets unite for
it's Thanksgiving Eve.

No need to hang anything by the
chimney with care.
But it is a party so lets see your underwear.

Lets beat the holiday blues.
Hey who's drunk and horney?
Short skirts and thoose high heel shoes.

Crank that jukebox hey grandpa theres
no need to leave.
Cause everyone is included on Thanksgiving eve.

Hey amigo if we play are cards right.
we can stir enough **** to see a chick fight.

Hey whats going on upstairs God only knows.
It's not  cheating just wrestling without any
clothes.

Hey who just cut a whole in the floor?
hey grandpa ya better watch that exotic woman
your dancing with.
Cause she's a woman with a little more.

Hey ya'll the cops are coming along with a swat
team so it's my cue to leave.
but like that fat ***** in a red suit I'll
return to bring ya another great Thanksgiving Eve.

No longer at desk the typewriter has been given
it's final rest.
As he cant recall the day or year.

The once strong mind is closed the body
but a museum or tribute to what once was.
he his home but locked within himself.

Vist's from thoose who once knew the man
are like people viewing a body at a wake.
he calls from within the shell for for release.

Yet his lips will not move his voice never sounds.
Inside he burns for the chance to run as the river
chases the sea.

To be the man they never knew and the one he
could admire and both despise.

The page sits in typewriter like a willing
eager lover in bed.
Waitting in stockings that cling to delicate thigh.
the tears escapes it's minds prison.

He thirsts for it like a drunk for that morning drink
of whiskey waitting hands held togather trying
to keep from shaking.

He sits as a painter without hand.
watching the most beautiful sunset fade without
a chance of ever capturing this moment.

The ink is drying he feels it everyday.
Soon he hopes like the dust that does gather
he will be swept away.

Sweet darlin known only to me.
You hide in the shadows.
And dance on empty floors so others will not see.

You hang onto words empty as your heart.
And cast aside  all who care.
For there is no heartbreak if you never start.

You wrap yourself in lies and so freely twirl.
I wonder does anyone ever truley see.
My invisable girl.

once she was there only to vanish a little at a time.
I new the person.
More than a simple ryhme.

We loved and lost.
Shared a pain  and suffred the cost.

As we live more like ghosts in a empty shell.
I wonder In your isolation.
I pitty whomever thoose secrets you tell.

Like a old cat beside a fire into a emotional ball you do
curl.
I wonder  if ever you will return my invisable girl

So stay the gold.
foolish thoughts wasted
apon the old.

Your never alone except day and night.
did we forget the cause.
Or just grow tired of the fight.

Evergreen moments dont exist in books.
Or pictures trapped apon the page.
The wisdom of life is nothing without the rage.

Into a maze we go blind.
Far past  the moment.
Nothing is left to remind.


Motions are not feelings.
Along with contracts and lies.
So many loser's  with there double dealings.

Taken from the city lights
I lost all that was obscene.
My pasion was turned into my evergreen.

Time you change all but me.
Casting many storms.
That turn  so very deep  within the sea.

Erased are thoose moments
apon the slate  is clean.
I wonder do you ever reflect my sweet evergreen

Life and cigarettes burn to fast.
We waste are time.
So within the moment you bask.

A pretty face has to age.
Every story meets  it's final page.
When life breaks you over its cost.
Then you'll sing a lullaby to the lost.

The lights in the street hide all but the truth my
dear.
You can act.
But you can never mask your  fear.

In dark rooms you sell all but your soul.
A wicked moment a stolen encounter.
All things take there toll.

That sweet face has tuirned hard your so warm
to be cold.
A secret that the bitter have already told.

Can you wash away there stench as from
the past you are tossed.
In dark corners blood stained angles
sing a lullaby  to the lost.

Is this hell or a nightmare  that knows no end.
A cell to most.
To others the only refuge inwhich they
can depend.

she falls to the floor a lost look needle  
in arm.
Most will rememeber a doomed fool.
Others her wreckless charm.

She was  a ******  and a easy lay.
More bones are broken.
Over words others say.

She sold flesh but payed the ultimate
cost.
In a dingy corner of th world.
Were the angles sing a lullaby to the lost.

Miles of highway pass me by.
So many beautiful places.
Yet apon nights reflection I cannot even try.

She waits down near that red Georgia clay.
So many names to recall.
But only one brings a tear to my eyes to say.

Jasmine scented dreams hang like spanish moss
in my mind.
My soul does linger apon a southern shore
for the one I could never leave behind.

Ive travled the four corners
From the lights of Vegas to isolation of planes Montana.
I can forget all but my sweet savannah.

People many inviting yet none lure me to stay.
All night dinners frequent flyers.
loving like madmen only to vanish with the day.

We are pirates of land.
Giving all sacrfice the soul.
The tramps of being in demand.

Should I stray to oceans view.
Cocktails by the beach front bar.
Taste of peach mixed with strawberries and bannana.
So sweet to the taste apon painted lips.
But none can ever quench the thirst.
For the sunset of savanna

She takes my money and ses yeah ***** thats the way
it"s gonna  be.
Took her friends out bought the bar a round and
charged it to me.

Got some brass knuckles  she wears  around her
neck.
wears ten different Engagement rings.
I have to say I belive she love more  than
just me i do suspect.

She dosent care how I am.
She's just wants to know what I got.
Kicked my *** and lit fire to my dog.
God mean chicks are hot.

She couldnt  make are wedding  cause she
was to busy ridding with the hell's angles.
Came back with some new tattoo's hair
all in tangles.

Told me this is the way it's gonna be.
At  well over six foot.
It's pretty funny getting bullyied by a spitfire
Standing in heels at five foot three.

Slept with my sister and taught my grandma  
how to smoke  ***.
I shoukld get ******.
but mean chicks are just so dam hot.

In  eyes  overcast  with regret.
We battled many storms.
To many togather to ever forget.

Two ships passing silently without  wake.
Still water memories  flow  gentle  as a dream.
When we pass from every past love we take.

Fail we have  but still we did try.
Tears can only wash clean.
The bitterness of this goodbye.

After the glow
there is only a spark.
She knew another.
As strangers we view thoose flaws as new
lovers kindle passions fire in that same old park.

She said I can"t say the words underneath
the sunsets  fire lit sky.
As burried the past only to her.
For my heart can never forget this goodbye


Just a write i did off the top of my head sorry
for it's  lack of talent.
they cant all be diamonds.

Tangled up in the sheets man that was fun.
Yeah id stick around my darlin.
But the train's a waiting and so I gotta run.

Tommy  and Phil  will be at the dinner waiting with ready ear.
***** the coffee darlin.
I preffer a smoke and a beer.

The waitress sat staring at me as I sat lost
without a clue.
She said thought you had to leave town.
memories get hazy but she reminded me with a swift
kick oh **** darlin was that you?

Sometmes it's not so easy to recall.
Precious memories shared.
In a nightclubs bathroom stall.

Hey it was a perfect moment amougnst many.
Sure I recall your name.
It's Rebecca  Sandy  okay I wouldnt have guessed Kenny.

Sometimes it"s awkward  hitting  on a chick only to
have her reply but I thought we were threw.
Maybe i should lay off the *****.
Cause im really getting tired of asking
was that you?

And from the battlefield so does he emerge.
Beaten blood stains his memories.
Such beathy in destruction apon the devils backbone
such powers converge.

Bodies gather tossed into a heap.
he's silent even in his thoughts.
For the madness to one's self is better to keep.

Dying moments at a time.
the field may change death is the same.
Where humans are numbers with a toll
up the ladder he does climb.

The honest view over shadows the
ignorant few.
Tortured are the memories trapped inside.
Cold steel to which tonight he does confide.

Blood stainded bages how they do gleam.
After years of the twisted vision.
No side has to be right it does seem.

The blood is embedded in his very soul.
No matter the side.
The the memorie alone takes it's toll.    

Often we recall alone we regret.
nightmares creep into are waking hours.
So is the victem of the memory forwhich you cannot forget.

If i held you apon the ledge would fear
ever drift into your heart.
Waves crash below salt kisses the wind.
Far from this  madness we do depart.

The storm outside brings it's cold
casting doubts with fear.
ligthing flashes giving light to useen places.
Thunder crashes you question the voices you hear.

locked behind doors kept in a wooden box atop
the fire place.
He removes the mask
To reveal only to the darkness his true face.

Within the flames exists the ash of
my troubled past.
Ripped sails.
Dreams of light cant exist under skies overcast.

A single moment can be the breaking straw.
Whats left of the lion.
does reside in the cats paw.

A ghost to these sheets this
bed I no longer haunt.
A waltz at a forgotten balll.
Underneath the arm of another was it only to flaunt.

Dark circles under eyes.
Trapped in this hell I despise.
the midnightoil burnt on through the day.
Love conseals a promise that your heart does betray.

Echo's in darkness
to all but strangers I do confide.
Bleeding within in the emptyness my
true self does reside.

We can have many but none
will ever erase that first.
Barbwire confessions

In a dessert in a moment of passion she did quench
my thirst.
And so  with any plessure must come the pain.
A broken heart spreads like a infection.
Simple memories washed clean by the summers rain.

I wonder only night and day.
Pretend to think beyond a moments reflection.
But still my heart does betray.

As teens stumble through awkward moments
yerning  for that unspoken feeling with a intense burst
they fall in and out of that trademark emotion.
Forgetting the last only to recall that first.

Im  speaking  about more than action.
Seldom do we admit the innocence.
Hide the truth and flaunt satisfaction.

Tainted is the blood in the kiss.
Time holds its portrait.
Dark was that night but never dark as this.

I confess i loved you  eternal.
As i treated you the worst.
forever in confines  sweet and bitter.
Burried in emotions in honor of that first.

It's only when your alone do we forget what a true pain in the *** people tuely are.
Maybe for some it's just missing waking up next to warm body your face burried deep within her hair.

Others may be something altogather different and for others it is a true friendship far beyond a cheap **** it's the laughter i miss.
Thoose moments I took for granted i guess it's just her I miss.

It was nine years of hell mixed with touches of heaven.
I had tried to erase the memorie with gallons of ***** and cheap flings
Forgettible faces *** can be empty at times and can do more dammage than we know.

The bar that sits only a few paces from her door is still there.
The places all the same yet they seem cold as I am no longer welcome there
Or was it just me and a paranoid refletion.
portsmouth is a strange place indeed where on one side of the street are people sitting outside in the summer sipping cocktails eating overpriced meals.
and right across the street people wait in line at the soup kitchen.

niether group looks towards the other like the old color lines during the times in america we'd all like to forget guilt is a ***** indeed.

Still no matter the problems in this world it always goes back to are own simple lives why you may ask?

Cause we cant solve the worlds problems and thoose who belive they can seem.
to have this habbit of always getting shot.
So here I sit in thumpers the local yuppie bar I used to look at from her window.

the view was a lot better  from her place but the drinks are a lot better here.

Do I miss her?
Yes.
Will I knock on her door tonight and beg her for her love like some desperate love struck fool?
No. I just sit here get drunk talk to some woman and if I'm lucky get laid close my in the mist of passion and pretend it's her.

Maybe I'm a coward but I'm  also a man and we all need that contact even if for only for one night.
If only I could reverse that view maybe then I'd just sit there and remember just what a pain in the *** she was.  

And rememeber why I'm in this goddamed bar to start with.
So I'll drink to her in my seat by the window underneath the neon sign.
And pretend that my life was misery with her so I can stand this crap i'm  living now.

Women are the worst drug you'll ever know.
But ****** there fun and I'll die befor I leave em alone.

Friends one with whom I shared a drink.
Are now ghosts  who haunt my heart dear.
Most left to find that which in life they did thirst.

But with seasons  I did remain like some old pillar unable to
move.
Feet planted  tears caressing a bitter face hiding
the fact that  goodbye had come all to soon.

Cards underneath my door.
Unfamilar faces make me question do I exist anymore.

Old passions destroy new flames.
Nights alone cast shadows.
You find more comfort in dreams  

The whiskey that burns is all that reminds.
You haunt this body  like a vacant building  
most seem to ignore  as  they pass its once warm  
structure.

My soul knows midnight my heart emersed in the
agony of truth.
We yern for warmth in the comfort of pain.

Memories are like scars  a prison of the mind.
Greetings from outskirts.
For I am the at home with the left behind.

Like a character in a novle ment to entertain  im
lost in the back pages of life.
But if you ever question  just turn back in reflection.
For they may have fled but im sill here.

young lovers know that traggic passion blind to failure
blind to everything that doesnt see them togather.
So in early morning passion just befor light.
they slip off togather dreams and hope taken along
for the ride.

long brown chessnut colored hair flowing out the window
along with are dreams.
A fence post marker the road togther holds
a certin magic it seems.

Love made from state to state
the waterfall to which we did race
skinny dippin togather by that old forgoten place
Your naked  beauty etched within my mind along with
the hapinees reflected from your face.

Broke down in blue springs Missouri.
Now i dont question why your eyes
were overcast with worry.

Apart the nightmare cant erase thoose nights spent
laying in blissful silence your head apon my chest.
Memories depend apon your view.
I 'll just kiss the that jasmine scented southern
breeze for the rest.

My darlin I ask fingers interlocked
with time my heart what shall be
are plan.
A tear touches that vision of a face.
As you recall the memories of when togather we
ran.

Its halloween  my favorite time of year.
Grown women running around half naked.
Makes me wanna awake the spirt and grab a beer.

Boy i wish my last nurse dressed like that.
My recovery would have been so much fun.
Oh please miss witch cast a spell on me and turn
me into your loving puddie cat.

oh miss **** police women ya can handcuff me.
I'll go commit a crime just to be guilty.

Yes it's  this goblins favorite time of year.
Where women dress like naugthy  little vixens.
And instead of candy I hand out cheap pickup lines
and beer.

Boy that chicks hot but wait.
Didint  I just  see her  in the guys restroom.
Doing something standing up straight.

Hey man whatcha going as hell who cares.
Im more interested  in  what your hot
wife wears.

From a **** school girl to a smokin french maid.
It's like going to the worlds biggest *******.
No cover charge need be paid.

Who cares bout Freddy and Jason  and other worn out
monsters from the eighties.
Cause all i got say it halloween ladies.

Memories like you dont always shine true.
Nor do old places hold that magic.
In a life so short.
That seems so traggic.

Im thinking of forever  while slowley fading  away.
Oh such clear thinking  on a cloudy day.

A summer ago is when we met.
So far now it seems.
Yet the still my heart holds no regret.

The poetry you inspired apon this very page.
Is ment to complment a love without age.

Early morning memories that you've lent.
Is simpley a dream of time well spent.

A dark sky hides the sunlights ray.
Such is the clear thinking on such
a cloudy day.

Im not blind yet for years  
hope has went unseen.
Sometimes age can taint a sweet dream.

Turning bitter the once colorful
fruit.
Killing wonder straight at the root.

A love like our's has kept with change.
And grown in definance.
Like a silly game.
We formed this this passion swept Alliance.

First with love you must blindly fall.
Then you must try to run when you
can bareley crawl.

To outlast the storms is to stand against the wind.
To ignor friends and to put trust in
a stranger and depend.

Many thoughts run through my head.
In the early morning as she lay against me
in bed.

A heart has many rivers a soul is a endless sea.
As we apart we are caged.
While togather we are free.

From this loves eternal bliss  my heart should never
stray.
As i sit clear is my thinking on such a  cloudy day.

Red ribbons  around the streetlights.
  The lights from the commadore theather
are a reflection of the past.
Coblestone streets the historic district across the water
buildings are lit  haunting  shadows over the water.

Once  a year closed streets seem to travle back in time.
Roasted penuts  street corner preformers.
Familys togather homeless on benches not all is beautiful and bright.

Sweet city so cold and gritty.
Christmas lights like neon signs call to my jaded soul.
Horse and carrige ride down by the water.
New lovers getting lost in the moment an season.

I sit apon the steps of the old church share a bottle with
My new best friend  smells of the city echo back to another time.
Lights and sounds reflect a holiday on highstreet.
Hands held  togther  when  in another  life it seems you
were mine.

Cold are the streets  carols fill this night.
If only more than once a year.
We could embrase this spirt.
Then trap it for one peaceful day.

The traffic apon  Highstreet  is  is slowing
The festival crowd is fading.
The bottle of christmas cheer is almost gone
so along with the I must  be going.

Apon are arrival once at times seemed questionable
We were greated by none.
hawaii had spoiled us to all other airport experiences
Were else could a half hunover  yet slighty buzzed  madman
stumble from a plane to encounter a beautiful woman in a grass
and cocunut bra once even now made me thirst for for a pina collada.

But in in canada there was nothing  to greet us there but cold
As we stumbbled around dressed like soon to be doomed criminals awaitting trial.

Cananda its slogan should have been.
Welcome to Cannada  it's really ******* cold.
But we knew where to find warmth in this enviroment.
Or for that matter any enviroment.
For we were drunks or as i liked to think of it consistant drinkers

And on are journey into this land of freezing weather maple syrup
and ice hockey.
We had one true goal.
we had come to drink Cannada dry.

No bar would untouched No bottle would not know are name.
we would hit on many women.
Score with a few and say we had slept with many.

I was a religeous man and i need to get in touch with with the spirts
The spirts of Canadian mist  Jim beam  And my old stand by spirt Gin


It was a bold mission for which we had set forth.
Are livers were alredy beaten to almost a pulp but
we still somehow still walked and functioned in disquise of
semi normal human beings  but nothing was further from the truth

we were writters was ment we were professional crazy people
On a mission to depleet this icey land of its alcohol
an drink canada dry

The cop asked me for my license to which
I replied what the hell is that.
Officer Tillman  I belive i met your wife in a restroom
down at the laundrymat.
She didnt do ya justice.
Cause you arent  all that ugly
but you are kinda fat.

No my last name isnt Knoxville  but I
sure had some fun in Tennessee.
Met darlin that left a burnin feelin behind just for me.

My life is like a tweenty four hour cartoon.
A wreckless wonder.
If ya wanna ride along theres always room.

Gotta babydoll I often reffer to as Tinker.
She's my favorite semi insane funsize drinker.

Got a amigo or two.
Some fake ID's  cause some people just happen to be looking
for me.
I thought you already knew.

Some people like to hate.
Clive.  Forrest.  Ian.
Dont be jelouse your still living togather in the same basement
no hope ever having none inflatable
date.

Iv'e taken some pretty hard licks.
Put my mind in a blender .
Now all im left with is becon bits.
Im the  ******* of poetry alone I hold the crown.
Some might call me a village idoit.
But I would say im most fun fella in town.

And if ya read this work and still cant see.
You can go to hell.
And thats one thing apon me my imaginary friends
and my little badass tinker agree.