Clockwork Green's blog: "The Poems..."

As I lay me down to sleep, Seeking no more to whine or weep, I pray this gun against my head Will make me more deader than dead. In my infinite arrogance, I woudl not hear In my infinitie ignorance, I squandered my career. No grand, beneficent work di I complete. No art, no science, no wonderous feet. A waste of life, a waste of time; Existing is my unforgivable crime. I tried and tried all I could But nothing I did was any good. A fouled soul spreading flawed love Is my lot assigned from above. With love thrice, I did try. With love thrice, I did cry. All I am is this broken heart, And from here I must depart. So when you recall the recently late Turn painful tear to tears of hate. For this is the most selfish thing I do, But this will cure me and free all of you. Now I lay me down to sleep. No memories of me should you keep. This I do for my heart's sake. I'll be gone when you awake. Amen.

I ask my myself nightly, Why Not? Why not just not come tomorrow? Why not just not pay my loans? Why not just kill myself? Is there something I am keeping myself here for? Is there a reason for any of this? Becursed with a foolish heart that still believes in Love. Love. Love. The word upon which our life hinged. Finally unhinged. Finally undone. Final stop. All passengers must disembark. Wakey wakey… Time to die. Hey all. I have to leave now. You have all been so nice. You all treated me far better than I ever deserved. As it seems though, I have not reciprocated anything back. In fact, it seems I took advantage of all. I am not a good friend. I am not even a good human. Perhaps if I give my energy and chemicals back to the universe they can recycle me into something useful. Maybe a nice plant of some sort. I tried my best, but as usual this was not even CLOSE to good enough. Remember, sympathy comes between Shit and Syphilis. That is where I now belong. Death will not come get me. God has forgotten me. I guess I need to send myself back to the sulfur pit of Hell that spawned me. Beelzebub wanted a soldier and he got me. Granted, I am not a mass murderer, but my soul is dark, lost, and twisted. Love is something I will never know, yet it is all I think about. Do not mourn me. Do not remember me. To do so will only give me power in Hell. Do not let me complete my fate. I always knew I would be in the front of Armageddon, but I thought on the side of Good. I guess just as there was to be an Anti-Christ born of man, why not an Anti-Michael born of man? That is who I am. The Anti-Michael. Wings, swords, arms, shields… all clash in the blood clad clouds. Angel upon angel. Mortal upon mortal. Two shall clash and the struggle will determine all. Michael, who is like God? Born of God will fight Michael, who is like God? Born of man will fight. The fight will rage as all watch. Angel strikes. Mortal strikes. Angel bleeds. Mortal bleeds. One falls, one rises. Whose sword shall prevail? Only John saw this. He never reported. Wakey, wakey… Time to fly.

Hear me Father Moon, Brother Night! Under my power put my Sister and Mother. Hear me Uncle Lightning, Grandfather Thunder! Sight of mine freed from the horrid hues of day. Come to me my children, for they shall call us legion. Come to me my children, expand our nocturnal region. Mother Sun, Sister Day, Aunt Wind, Grandma Rain. These four shall know why all fear the dark and cold. Unto our enemies let loose darkened terror, bloodied pain In a heaven-shattering, heaven-shaking assault most bold. All shall cry: “Who attacks us? Who dares this?” I have no name. They shall call unto me as – Solstice.

Mirror, Mirror on the wall What in your glass do you see? I see a kind, caring, dependable Man full of life, love, and frivolity. Mirror, Mirror on the wall What in your glass do I see? I see a self-centered, deplorable Thing full of gloom, doom, and immaturity. Is it possible for such a division to exist That such a polar dichotomy can be a person? Is he the hopeful, loving, dreamer-idealist? Is it the envious, childish, thoughtless demon? Mirror, Mirror on the wall... Which of these is really me?

Oh what prodigious mowing they did make. He with his scythe -- she with her rake. A prayer for his very shy soul’s sake That he can escape sensibility’s cruel mistake. Bound to her sensual charms quaint. A whore we but say as he retorts “She ain’t!” How dare we criticize his sweet, loving saint? Clad in her shimmering gold spray paint. He cannot understand why they bid her ill For it is she that gives his heart a thrill So strong not even Death can ever still! Yet, we see his heart that her love will kill. I wish I could save thee, Oh my brother, For that whore’s heart always seeks another.

Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November. Thirty-one's the remainder's fate Save February at only twenty-eight.

Oh give me a ohm where the Buffalohm roam Where the Volts and Amperlope play Where Resistance is low and the electrons do flow And the Capacitors store you away. Ohm, ohm on the range! Where the Volts and the Amperlope play! Where Resistance is low and the electrons do flow And the Capacitors store you away.

Alone again in the crowded line awaiting

Their arrival, he dreams they race and pretends

A car races through traffic –rocketing

Around cars and corners to be on time.

 

Ostracized from all, she does not even know

Her grave transgression nor how to make amends

In order to prove her love and faithfully show

That she is punished for an imagined crime.

 

For their friendship, for their love, any nod at all,

He gives all he has, on them his life money he spends

Hand over hand, until the bill comes and the call

Takes his final breath and blood, his last nickel and dime.

 

Everyone has one – the means to any ends.

Everyone profits from our forgettable friends.

The Fifth was the first, but not the last one to go. They said, "We're still the best. We're so grand." The Eighth was next in line, just so you know. They said, "Hey, lighten up! We're not Afghanistan." Defense is crucial for peace, so the Second was next. They said, "We cannot let them hide their arms!" In keeping this new peace, the Seventh left the text. They said, "We're saving you money, silence the alarms." The Fourth, like a rabid beast, was next put down They said, "We need this to protect all of you!" The First was the last driven into the ground. They cried, "It is just on the Arab, not on the Jew!" "Alarmist," they label, "we are not like Nazi Germany!" I sit in fear and wonder, "But how close are we?"

Death always stalking comes in sets of three. It found Grandma, then Nan, and now it comes for me To steal away all that I was, am, and ever will be, And finally render me cold, but free. Death’s chain is thus broken. From the loving school Was taught this humble fool Forged from the darkest, richest coal And imbued with a fragile soul That I now give, the worthless token. For all those things I left unsaid During the life I leave unled I now can leave without dread For all born will become dead And Life’s chain is unbroken.