Liveinnomansland

Old Man and Me

2010-12-24T23:32:00.001-08:00

I can follow footprints left behind in deep wrinkled lines. Learn the future in clam eyes of the storm. Gain from the past in the darken, hard earned age spots. I can trace my life in the features of the old man.

Where is he now, and who is this cold lifeless corpse? They tell me it’s him, but it can’t be this man is dead. The old man is still alive. Then again maybe he was never really there, and maybe he was me and I was him this whole time.

Addiction

2010-12-24T23:31:00.001-08:00

Slap...Slap...Slap

Tie the belt around the arm

Call the veins to attention

Cross my heart and hope to die

Now stick the needle in my arm.

No future lies for me among these broken needles

All alone in this apartment

Just they way it should be

I don’t even need a shadow anymore

Can you relate to nights lying in the middle of the bed

Wide awake and no breath to speak

Blind to the light, feeling a calming numbness take you over

I confess it tears at my sanity

Being at the brink of break down

I’m just another blood shot soul

2010-12-24T23:09:00.001-08:00

The worst feeling in the world is not being lonely, it's being forgotten by the person you could never forget.

2009-11-19T10:51:00.000-08:00

I dreamt across the night sky

Tiptoed along the edges of the twilight

Fearing my dear, I feel is very far away

Knots in my stomach are no way to start the day

I pray to the faceless moon to bring reality to my wishes

Have her wings grace my lips with butterfly kisses

From rooftops to sleep tangled messes

I surrender to burn my chapter

Ache burns at my edges and a need for her lingers

I long for her lips and to hold her fingers

Your voice echoing in my mind

And the hush of your lullaby caressing my skin

She can hold my breath as I breath her souls fire

The slower she goes,

I follow her into love higher

I lose myself in bottomless kisses

As I realize she can take me apart

She’s mastered my spirit and heart.

The Drug and The Dealer

2009-10-01T14:36:00.001-07:00

The Drug

Love is a drug. Dealers play with the unsafe, and violent emotions in basement labs. The labs always explode, at some point, taking out city blocks of a persons mind. How long till we have no mind left? The addiction blinds us to the faces of the dealers we know. Every crash leaves needing it more and more. They know we will keep coming back as long as they got the goods. Every time that high wears off, we look for the next dealer with the stronger drug. How long can we go on like this?

Look at me, I’m doped on love... again. How long till the crash, or will the lab blow in my mind? I said I'd quit but fuck it I still have half a city to blow up before I reach for the bottle...

The Dealer

She is the Black Rose. The Devils own kin. She’s the greatest thoroughbred, with the best hits on the streets.

LOVE

Is what she deals in

I know her face and know her games all too well. She made me an addict once before. Swore to myself not to let it happen again, but damn she did it again. Made me an addict, and I’m losing control of it all. Do I have enough left in me? Are the all the blocks gone yet? Is this the hits that leaves reaching for that bottle? Fuck it. I’m lit and the coming crash will blow the whole city anyways, going to enjoy this...

From Chains and Links to Smoke and Drinks

2009-09-24T13:26:00.001-07:00

In realms of forgotten realities

There are still widows waiting to be opened

Open a window and there is this

Cartons of milky way with pictures of a missing nation

Last seen running away from its own dreams

Dreams of freedom, peace, and equality

All seen as lies that they are today

We’ve gone from chains and links,

to smokes and drinks

Time is money, money is time

I keep time in memory river bank vaults,

to gain interest in the Ides of March

Saving to buy my freedom

Who can I make my cheque payable to?

The Christian minister giving a false benediction of a false idol?

The crooked politician promising false hope and change?

The corrupt businessman carving up this land for his benefit?

How much will it cost you to buy out of reality,

that has already bought you?

So sell you soul to the highest bidder

Doesn’t mean I’m going to buy it

Peering through blood stained glass panes

Gone yellow around the edges

I open the casement to the realms of forgotten realities

Where man goes searching for themselves

Only to find they sold their souls for

cheap cocaine and drunken slumbers

Sold their souls for a false savior

A slick talker in a cheap suit,

still selling the same old speech of hope and change

I look out into all of this

All the while taking a sip from my poet-tree leave tea

Florio's Files

2009-09-18T22:34:00.000-07:00

Ring...ring...rin “Hello? Who is this and you know what time it is?”

“Julius Florio, come down to the East River now, and yes it’s 2 A.M.” Sternly and coldly a voice said.

Fuck, it’s Sergeant McCallister. Why does the pig always call me at god forsaken hours?

“What a pleasant surprise it’s the always bright and cheerful Sergeant McCallister. What is it this time, can’t find your own head from being shoved up your ass so far?”

“You little sniveling piece of shit, if my superiors would see you for what you really are I would have you arrested for your reckless...”

Click, dumb bastard needs to lighten up just cause he can’t laid or solve his cases for that matter he has to get all hissy with me. Throw on my trench coat and fedora, to give me the 1930’s harden detective look and out into my black Honda Civic hatchback. God could there be anymore disparity in my appearance to the appearance to my car?

It’s 2:20 by the time I get there and Sergeant McCallister is looking as bright and cheerful as a bear mauling a deer.

“Ahh Sergeant McCallister what do I owe this calling of good nature too?” Mockingly.

“Look Florio we have a murder or what we believe to be a murder. He was found by a Mr...Burrow not more than an hour ago. We found track marks...

“O come now McCallister I highly doubt you need me to solve the death of a heroin overdose victim, you insult my intelligence.” Sarcastically, I do love pissing McCallister off.

“You little bastard don’t fucking mock me I swear if I could...” Angrily

“What would you do Sergeant?” Harshly form behind me but with a slight female softness to it.

Ahh, there she is Lieutenant Salazzar, beauty, brain and brawn all wrapped up in a lovely 5’ 7’’ 145 pound package.

“My question is what would you do to me Lieutenant?” Flirtatiously I tease her.

“Florio, if I told you once and I’ve told you a hundred times, we will never work. Now McCallister continue your report without the hostility” With such stoic emotion, she has to be wild in bed.

“Yes, Lieutenant. The track marks isn’t what concern us it’s the pre-mortis bruising that we are concerned with. It appears he was tied down and injected until he overdosed and then was thrown in the river.” Hurt and dejected McCallister continued.

Priceless, that face he makes when his pride is hurt, the old bastard.

“Well now I see your’s and Salazzar’s concern with this case, we can’t have people being drugged to the point of death then tossed in the river like trash now can we. I’ll come by tomorrow after I question Mr. Burrow to see the coroner’s report. Along that note have we questioned Mr. Burrow yet? If not I would like to be the first, but I will tomorrow at Mel’s on 135th and Madison at 9 A.M. Can you relay that to him for me McCallister or should I call and remind you? To you Stephanie I bid farewell and try not to dream about me to much tonight, you know how embarrassed I get with those messages you leave me.” Carelessly I stride past them to my car.

“Fucking bastard.” McCallister whispered under his breath.

“If you weren’t such a jackass, I might actually think of you other when we have a case that we require you on” Salazzar yelled back.

Comebacks are too late I’m already doing 50 down Broadway to the docks, since I’m up it’s only custom I go down to the Empire Club, I’m not doing anything else tonight and won’t start on any leads until tomorrow evening. Trust me it sounds more regal and classy than it really is. A dive bar scene at it’s best. Smoke filled room from cigarettes and cigars. Dirty floors from years of chewing tobacco, blood, piss and vomit. Place smells like shit, vomit, old beer, smoke and dying flesh. The stench burns your nostrils and makes the eyes water or is everyone always silently crying? Place is almost as dark as outside, half the lights work the other half are either broken or burnt out and not to mention the blacked out windows don’t help the case either. Everywhere broken tables, chairs, bar stools and a couple pool tables, but the people in here are more ruined, broken and run down then any piece of furniture in here. Always the same crowd no matter what. Ross and Thomas two poverty stricken brothers both barely able to drink, work here at the docks just to sit here and drink all night. Sid an old safe cracker been on the run since the 80’s for nocking off banks in New Jersey. Pete a convicted drug lord, human trafficker and dog fighter. There’s Mickey an ex-Hell’s Angel retired from raping, murdering and stealing I guess. Then the two sisters, not really but they look out for each other like they are. Marge and Cindy if know them well but if not it’s Star and Honey two old whores all used up giving blow jobs for $25 a pop. Leaving me as the only other regular. If I was working on the case at the moment in stead of working on my third double scotch It would be the perfect place for info on our John Doe from the East River. Instead Cindy is looking better than usual and I need to relax.

I need to stop drinking this late. It’s 8:45, I have 15 minutes till I meet Mr. Burrow, I should really find out his first name. I’m going to be late, the seven block drive will take at least 45 minutes now. Fuck, transit it is then. I hate the subway. Throw on my jeans from the floor, an old shirt hanging on my chair, grab my black track jacket and shove my feet in the old torn Converse and take a Frebreeze shower and I’m done. I knew it the L-train is late as usual its going to be at least 9:45 by the time I get there, now to hope to God he’s still there.

Finally at Mel’s, my other office I’m here so much I feel like I should be paying Varick for rent. Dammit I should have asked for a description of this man. O well fuck it.

“Is there a Mr. Burrow in today!” I yelled out above everyone standing on top of the check in counter.

A wiry man stands up, not what I had expected, he’s about 6’ 2,’’ black shoulder length curly hair, metal rimmed glasses, sharp blue eyes and a tattoo of a cross on the right side of his neck.

“Hello Mr. Burrow, I’m Detective Julius Florio, but just call me Florio. I’m a rather informal man and probably have no other reason to ever see you again.” I can see why people are put off by me now, but fuck it I need results.

“Florio it is then, it’s not an entire pleasure to meet you, but you may call me Seth. What is it that I am meeting you for and why are you late to it?” So serious he could kill a summer day with that tone.

“Seth I want to ask you a few questions about last night and what you saw.” Obviously I looked pissed now. Fucking McCallister, always making it difficult for me.

Unfinished

2009-06-07T00:36:00.000-07:00

Can I come back and drift through the hole in your eye

Squeeze through that coal black pupil, the window to the mind

Float through the cracks of the brain

See where things went wrong, see where you locked me out

Find the answers to the questions I have yet to ask, the questions I haven't thought of yet

The winds of April gust through the cracks into the hallowed out space

Push me into where the soul should be

Where I can see what makes you tick, tock, tick, tock

Where does your clock start and stop

Where did it stop for me, if it ever did in the first place

Maybe I can spend a holiday in your head

With the demons, angels and scared children of your mind

The demons who tells you I'm evil

The angels who tells you I'm all wrong

The scared children who tells you I'm liar

How can the evil call me evil?

How can the good call me wrong?

How can the scared call me a liar?

They never knew me, and now I'm gone forever

As I drift out the mouth that now speaks to me in silence

prose poem

2009-05-23T19:31:00.000-07:00

It’s been ten years and I’m still searching...searching for the man who stole my soul. I’ve been through every back-alley black market and shady soul vendor, where men go to sell the lost souls for cheap cocaine and drunken slumbers. I can only remember the smell of the sea and ash.

“SHE is out there...lost in the realms of forgotten realities,” a blind gypsy said in passing

I turn but he is gone and how did he know my soul is named SHE. The scent of the sea and ash fills my nostrils, SHE is here,...but where...

I’m left waiting...waiting...waiting...looking through the blood stained glass window, sipping poet-tree leave tea.

2009-05-21T16:52:00.001-07:00

Bootleg your mind, and you’ll never have to sell out your soul.

2009-05-21T09:37:00.000-07:00

God is addict and we are his drug of choice.

Saul's Prison

2009-05-21T08:29:00.000-07:00

Saul and Derrick starred down corridor of trees to the dilapidated and decaying plantation home of the once illustrious and notorious Dr. Lynch. Engulfed on each side by the cadaverous trees, twisted and bare they reached for the sky, seemingly praying to God for forgiveness for their sins, Saul and Derrick made their way down the dusty dirt road to the home.

“W...w...we should turn back, the...these trees are s...si...signs from God that this place is not a holy p...pl...place, and we will surely find e...ev...evil in there. The trees of the s...su...suicides from Dante’s Inferno were the same in tw...twis...twisted deformity and barren of leaves.” Derrick fearfully stuttered.

“Turn back now then, I am going in there to find answers. I do not need a coward holding me back. If you fear for your life then run away and take your chances with the horrors and evils all over this island” Saul coldly and harshly stated.

CRACK!

Derrick jumped letting a shot from his pump action shot gun ring through the cool evening air, taking a large portion off one of the nearby trees.

“W...wha...waht was that?!” Derrick panicked, exclaimed.

“Shut up and come over here with that light.” Saul scolded.

Saul knelt down to look at the sap that bled from the tree Derrick shot. The black ooze seeped from hole created from the shot gun blast, was the very same ooze from the cell that Saul was in. That sticky, putrid ooze reeking of rotted flesh, death and shit.

“We’re going the right way, be prepared for the worst.” Saul said getting up and staring down what or whoever was in Dr. Lynch’s plantation home.

“What is this stuff, it’s disgusting and what do you mean prepare for the worse?” Derrick, confused, questioned.

Behind the house the sky aflame with blistering crimson reds and fiery oranges of the setting sun. The two men made the mile long walk to the plantation home, both dead silent. Derrick clutching his shotgun made his way nervously turning about to cover all around him not to be sneaked up on. Saul emotionless, cold and fearless, he was a man with a mission and seemed that death itself would not stop him from finding the answers he sought in this place or where ever he would be taken after this.

“This is it. This is the home of the bastard that taunts and tortures me with my past and my pain.” Saul angrily said.

They came up to the front steps of the home. The large square, two story home was in decay and ruin now, nearly sixty years of abandonment and neglect had taken its toll on the once exquisite and extravagant home. Several of the pillars had collapsed, bringing down much of the wrap around porch on the second story with it. The rows of windows were all blown out and cracked from all the years of neglect. The Chinese Wisteria had almost claimed the whole house for itself, except for the peaks of the roof, which stuck out like flailing hands of those drowning in a sea of water. One of the two grand chimneys built in the early 1850’s had collapsed into the house, punching a large hole in the roof and brining down nearly half of the westward wall with it. Saul cut away the wisteria to proceed in, Derrick hung in the back convinced they would both be dead by the end of this night.

“I’ll take the second floor and you take the first floor.” Saul ordered

“Are you sure it’s safe for us to split up?” Derrick asked.

“If anything was here we would have been attacked by whatever sick creation he had waiting for us here by now.” Saul said detached.

Saul proceeded up the unstable stairs, while Derrick checked the ground level for hat he had no idea.

“Why am I doing this for him, he’s going to get me killed. What do I owe to him that he can order me around like this? And what the fuck am I looking for down here?” Derrick said to himself.

Meanwhile Saul found Dr. Lynch’s bedroom. There in the nightstand by the bed Saul found the doctor’s journal. It detailed all he had done to those men and women that passed through the walls of the Rock Island Psyhcriatict Ward and hopefully held the answers Saul so desperately needed to know. As he opened the journal he heard Derrick let out a death enticing scream from downstairs, he quickly shoved the journal in his back pocket, grabbed his 9 MM and raced downstairs.

There he found a Sliver over Derrick, its blades dripping with his blood, he turned around and let loose a blood curdling scream and charged at Saul. Saul fired six shots off his clip; one shattering the Sliver’s knee, two piercing the chest where a heart should be, three in the head and one the Sliver had deflected with its blades. Saul raced through the house, coming to a set of large metal double doors decorated ornately with Lucifer’s fall from heave, the Biblical rapture stories and the punishments of hell as described by Dante in the Inferno.

“Fuck! Locked.” Saul cried out.

The Sliver was now rampaging through the house, tearing though any furniture in the way and ripping all the overgrowth that had consumed the house. As it came closer and closer Saul fired the rest of the 9 MM clip into the beast. Shotgun blasts rang through the air but nothing seemed to stop the creature or even slow it down.

“Is this how it ends, it can’t be, I can’t die her like this I need to finish what I was dragged into.” Saul helplessly said.

Just as the Sliver was a couple yards from driving its three feet of cold steal through Saul’s body, the Sliver stopped dead in it’s tracks. Saul heard a thunderous roar came from behind him, from within the room behind the double doors. Saul turned towards the doors as the trembled and the floor quaked from whatever was behind those doors. He turned back to the Sliver but it was gone, running far from where he and this new beast remained. Saul backed up keeping faced towards the doors, the whole shook as if it was all going to come down because of this monster.

“Shit, what could it be to even have the Sliver running in fear from it?” Saul anxiously asked himself.

Just then the metal doors flew out into the room Saul stood in, and landed with a loud thud, knocking up years of dust and dirt into the air obscuring Saul sight of the monster. As the dust settled the beast let loose another thundering roar, and Saul could not believe his eyes of what stood hunched over in front of him.

It stood nearly seven feet tall, its skin a pale yellow and large pieces of skin missing revealing gray muscles that twitched and twinged with every strained move it made. Its body covered with a crisscrossing pattern of skin sewn together. The hands fused with a large axe on the right hand and spiked mace on the left. Its bald head was held together with three metal straps across each cheek and going down the middle of the head that connected in the back. The spiked collar around the neck kept it from twisting its head, as if it did it would dig those spikes deeper into its neck. Its face was rotted and peeled away showing the gray muscle and bone, its teeth broken sharpened to points, and the eyes a glowing yellow scanning the room. The massive body was ripped with muscle definition and great strength. Its arms as big as Saul’s legs, and its legs as big as Saul himself. It stood there imposing fear on all who saw it, and its will on all those who opposed it.

“What is this thing? Wait the journal..., o shit where is it?” Saul said

It was underneath the monster, and Saul had only two shots left in the shotgun. Saul unloaded the two shells into the thing in front of him as it took a step back and shook its head to shake off the shots to the head, Saul raced to grab the journal. Grabbing the journal Saul raced to reach the door before the monster could recover, he could feel the quaking footsteps coming after him, but as he reached the door he felt the power the monster first hand. Saul was hit with the flat side of the ax, sending him flung through the room and into the wall on the opposite side, knocking him unconscious. The journal was sent flying out of Saul’s hands.

“Good. Leave him, I’ll take care of it” A man behind the monster said.

American Nightmare

2009-05-20T23:26:00.000-07:00

In a world where we pick our dreams

The American Nightmare hogs the screen

Refusing to let anyone share the spotlight

I choose to sit, to watch and write

It’s like watching the car crash from inside the car

Everyone self-destructing like the stars

I began preaching of prepackaged identities

And I’m seen as the enemy

I never said Ya’ll had to listen,

But Ya’ll choose to take the lesson

Ya’ll never had to give me the time

Ya’ll followed me around just to hate, but I’ll open your mind

Took a break to sleep, Ya'll say I gave up and laugh

But when your freedom is beheaded on your behalf

I’ll be the one laughing over your grave

As the masters make you their slave

I sensed the coming destruction

Tried to warm Ya’ll, but Ya’ll fell to seduction

So I pack my things to carry on

Leave into the sunset till my shadow is gone

In the night, I still see the American Nightmare

Ya’ll keep looking on to the destruction of which you’re unaware

I look back impressed with the ignorance

Into the unknown I hopped the fence