A Trip to the VA

I recently was forced to go and receive a check up at the nearest Veteran's hospital. I say that I was forced because that is simply what it is. My health has been in steady decline for many a day and until the last possible moment I waited to go and get seen at this place. I knew what was awaiting me there, and quite honestly, I would almost rather just die than go and get a check up there. My body finally won out with the urging of my love, Olivia, and I made an appointment to get seen for the conditions I suffer from. Any help is better than no help right? I surely do wish that were so. Walking into the facility leaves you believing that you just walked into the most vast, never ending structure of all time; and you know you just passed fifteen other structures just as massive if not more massive to get to the one you're in. We walked hundreds and hundreds of yards through vast hallways to reach my primary care location. It reminded me very much of a little maze of rooms trapped in a much vaster maze of rooms, contained in even more rooms, divided by a few more rooms. From time to time during stretches of the walk you are overtaken by the smell of musky hospital sourness that hangs in spots like fog, thick, invisible fog. A nurse took my blood pressure which first read 169 over 111, at which point, she gave me a "damn you alright there sir" look and politely informed me that she would do it again. She did it again and again the numbers read 169 over 111. That was that, she said I was a Little borderline and sent me on my way to see the doctor, hum, nurse practitioner. 169 over 111 is not borderline, it is your are about to be fucking dead and I will always believe that disabled vets rate doctors, not nurse practitioners. These cathedral fucking buildings and the United States Government can't afford a doctor for its warriors; that is some serious horse shit and it should not be happening. Keep cutting the budget and giving tax breaks to the ultra wealthy while the bravest and best of us mire away in obscrurity in vast halls of nothing but waste, yea, America you should be real proud... Damn

Fuck You Red

There is not a single polititian in this entire country that I would trust with a bag of piss, but moreover, there is not a single republican I would trust with anything. Here we are again. We as a nation have once again handed power over to a group of people who have already proven they will run this country into the ground to make a buck for those with way too many bucks already. Fuck you red and your misguided beliefs. Fuck you red for being a bunch of blow horns for the asshole elite. These tea party fuckers don't give a shit about anything that is going to help anyone who needs help. Where the fuck were they when we started our trillion dollar death jamboree in Iraq? Where was their ranting and raving about fiscal responsibility then? Where were their fat mouths when we sent a few dozen troops into Afganistan to try and catch Bin Laden? They were sitting their dumb asses at home being all fat and happy that a republican was the president and they didn't give a fuck what that piece of shit was doing to the nation or world. Now there has been a landslide in the House of Representatives unlike anything in memory, and it has come due to a bunch a hypocritical fools gathering all their bullshit into one pile and turning it into a sandwhich that this entire nation will be forced to take a bite of. Their platform is over spending on the part of the government, and yet they were the spineless turds who cheerleaded this nation into a war based on lies and misinformation. It was their stinking Bush that set the strategy for the war in Afganistan that has proven utterly useless and will not be recovered from. Yep, these sorry ass clown human beings have once again taken power, but rest assured they'll never take responsibility. Fuck you red, you're stupid, and I fart in your general direction.

Leave Afganistan

It is almost beyond imagination that it is 17th day of June in the year 2011 and the United States of America still wages a "friendly" war in Afghanistan. Hearts and minds, for nine long years we have sought to win the devotion of the Afgani people and for nine we have failed miserably. Afgans don't want their hearts or minds to be won, and so they will not allow it. It is just like the previous sentence, it is a double negative. It is our arrogant stupidity and their arrogant stupidity mixed in a bowl and served to the masses. America is stupid because we believe that there can be such a thing as a friendly war. Ask a Lance Corporal Marine how friendly this war has been and the response will probably be very grave and serious. That Marine knows what we should be doing and knows we're not doing it. This country piddle paddles around with some of the bravest most dedicated souls to ever walk this earth and we've been doing it for a very long time now. Arrogance and stupidity and the best of us bleed out on ground fit for no good thing. The Afgans? They deserve what they have. Because of their blindness they have been left in the wilderness and it is what they deserve. We entered their country on damn solid ground, ground zero to be exact, but that ground changed the minute that sorry sack of ass Bin Laden slipped out of Tora Bora. The Taliban? Who gives a rat's hairy ass about anyone in or around the Taliban? The entire population of those worthless assholes is not worth the life of one single US Serviceman. If the Afgans want to deal with a bunch of radicalized shit birds all day, then let them. Whatever the fuck you do, don't go into talks with the bastards. We tap dance around with the assholes for nearly a decade and now we want to talk? Fuck the Taliban, bring our boys and girls home, and leave Afghanistan to the assholes it belongs to.

Loyal

I have considered myself a loyal Southern Baptist Christian for all of the days of my life. I say loyal only because it has been the Will of the Father that I, to this day, have remained so. There have been days, in which inside of my horribly underutilized brain, I have believed myself to be walking without my God. During those days was I loyal? One would be justified in saying no, but because of where I am today I would disagree. This I attest to because of my present Faith. If it were not for those days when I believed myself walking without the Lord, I could not know the Faith I now know. It is not an issue of me being loyal anyhow, for the Lord my God has been loyal, which in turn has made me loyal, no matter what my puny mind thinks, or what any body's puny minds think. Our brains are puny simply because we have forgotten what wonderful potential rests within our skulls. We have forgotten this potential because we have, for so many days, been loyal to only ourselves and the necessities of this world. We have forgotten what we are truly loyal to and what is truly loyal to us. The forces that drove me to the foolish idea that this life was all there was, are many and far advanced. Why do they give us so much trouble? Why are we constantly pushed, and poked, and prodded towards a belief that no god abides above us? I tell you this, if you are loyal by faith and knowledge to the Almighty, you will understand darkness and will always shine light above it, for we are Children of Light and that is what we do. God Bless

Knowledge and Truth, Within

The flesh and blood that houses my soul came into being on February 22, 1977. I first believed that Jesus Christ was my savior while attending a Sunday-school class at the First Baptist Church located in Boone, NC. I cannot remember how old I was, but definitely younger than when I was young. I remember seeing myself standing with the Lord beside a beautiful river, under a beautiful sky, and being completely and totally at peace. I remember imagining that He was smiling down at me as we just existed there by the river. I am glad I saw Him on that Sunday morning at that Sunday-school class, for indeed I have come to know that He came to save me and that I would need Him much more than the air I breathe. I am now 33 years old and the experiences, trials, joys, heartaches, accomplishments, failures, triumphs, disasters, and so on and so forth, have blended themselves together into a purer sort of knowledge. I give myself no credit at all for the attainment of this knowledge, for one of the main lessons I have learned is that I am pretty much capable of knowing nothing, especially when it comes to knowledge. That's a funny sentence isn't it; knowing nothing about knowledge. That being said, you could conclude that I should not even be writing these words, but do not forget the Christ that compels me to do so. I am capable of nothing, that is a good lesson learned, but not any more important than the knowledge and belief that Christ is capable of all things. How could I know and believe how capable Jesus is if I am not very capable at being capable of knowledge? For one thing, I am very glad that I can read, even if what I read does not agree with me. For another, I am glad that I can think, even if what I think does not agree with me. I do not think it is as much disagreeing with me, rather a disagreement with the Spirit dwelling within me. I am very glad for these things. The struggles, and pains, and all the other internal groans of this existence are all signals from the Spirit that danger is always lurking around every corner for us. God is inside each and every one of us to the extent we allow Him to be revealed. I use words like God, and Him, and Father, and Lord to describe It, but how insignificant these words are when compared to what God Truly Is. Do you think that God is not a part of each and every struggle we should face here? If one allows one self to realize that the Light came from Light and that that Light will never stop shining and each and every one of us is a part of it whether we believe so or not, then one has already gone Home. Even the most retched of us have it burning within us. God is the Lord of all and Christ relays over and over the knowledge that God Almighty is as much within us as around us or above us. Darkness exists, that is all there is to say about it and how glorious it is that a God of Light would take any time at all to help us humans fend off powers of darkness and despair. Do you not think that God is not the darkness? Do you think that God is not the despair? God is all things and that is a very hard concept for us humans to grasp. God is the good, God is the bad, God is the beautiful. God is the ugly. God is all things and above all things and before all things and it is curious indeed that we have such a horrible time seeing our God within ourselves. Christ warns us of our sleeping and came here precisely for the purpose of waking humanity on earth. He said that we were sleeping and that forces beyond what we are capable of reasoning are in a constant struggle themselves with the true nature of God and that all there is to believe in is Light. If the One before all things is a One of Light, then It will be Light that prevails. If the creator of all things created is a creator of darkness, then light shall cease to be. Jesus Christ, the Nazarene, gave His Life to tell humanity a story about a Father of Light before there was Light. He told us how to begin reaching back to our True Source and that all the Light in all the Heavens is no further away than the very hearts in our chests. We Christians have become so accustomed to believing that there is some sort of separation occurring during mortal life, and that Heaven and hell are yet to come. When you learn that they are already here, you learn to begin setting yourself free. If you look into the world and see hell, and realize that it is real and present, then you can learn to avoid it; and if you learn to avoid it while wearing the flesh, then how will it trap you when you are spirit? It can't. If you look into the world and see Heaven, and realize that it is real and present, then how much more shall you gravitate towards It when given wings to reach It? The world likes making things seem very complicated and confused. Really, it is as simple as a hug and a smile and motion and rest.

Into the Paranormal

I am glad to say that I will not be one of those individuals who never experiences anything paranormal during their life spans. If I really think about it then maybe I'm not glad that I am one of those people who has seen with my own eyes and heard with my own ears things that most of humanity would say could not be seen or heard. There is no doubt that the forces I have been slated to experience by the forethought of my Father are dangerous and quite powerful. There is little doubt in my mind that these forces have had a distinct effect on my being. Um, yep, I'm still glad that I have experienced them because with each new experience they have forced me to mantain and nuture a belief that there is so much more than meets the eye and that by actually seeing and hearing these things I have been blessed beyond measure. I have heard hundreds of voices from beyond the grave. I have seen with my own eyes energetic beings with the ability to take the shape of seemingly whatever they see fit. Cries for help from thin air are no strangers to me. Menacing growls from beyond the darkness barely make a dent in my resolve. After what I have been through on this earth, to me, the paranormal has become quite normal and therefore I have had my mind transformed from what I was taught to believe into what I was meant to believe. Because of my faith I do not fear. Because I am a child of Light, darkness has no power over me. Because of the One who came before me I shall rejoice in seeing and hearing what I am meant to see and hear. I tell you this, nothing I have experienced from the other side promotes more fear within me than what we all see every single day in the flesh. I'm starting to believe that there are more demons and spectres in the flesh than anyone has ever dared mention. The pursuit of paranormal knowledge, is in fact, a pursuit of knowledge, so therefore, it is the pursuit of something good. Jesus, the Nazarenne, and my Teacher and God said the only Way to the Kingdom of Heaven was through true knowledge. Paranormal events can force one to think with a mind that is opened, and therefore, great benefit can be acheived through this field of study. A critical problem rests in the fact that there is only so much we can ever know by seeking the dead. The one constant to both the believer and unbeliever is that the dead are dead. They are where they are and we don't have the first damn clue about where that is or what they are doing there. We think that our evps or infrared videos gleen some extrodinary truth from far beyond. It's probably not that far beyond at all, and more likely looming over every shoulder upon planet earth right at this very moment. It takes a troubled short of individual to want to poke an invisible demon slug beast in the eye, and it is my very strong opinion that only the rarest few should do such poking. Just like everything else in this shitty world of ours, the paranormal has become a business, a spectacle, a cheap form of entertainment. Those who are taking part in these things have absolutely no idea what they are doing to their spirits. Those who do have an idea, no longer take part, period. There are so many things that need to be tended to in this visible world in which we live, to be endlesslessly wondering what it is going to be like after this life is futile and counterproductive. We need to be tending to the living and leaving the dead with the dead. All I have heard from the realm of the dead is that it damn sure sounds better to be alive or not where they are. Do we who believe in them not realize that who has charge of us also has charge of them? By being where they are we have no say in their affairs, but they can say all they want in ours. Dangerous. The Lord will provide for the dead if the dead are meant to be provided for. If a human being feels compelled to help the dead who call for help, that him or her should first look into the eyes of someone very alive and dear to them and realize that that is where the tending needs to be done. If a human being is tormented by the dead, it is that individual who alone possesses the ability to end such torment. No team, or organization, or reality televison crew, or any other person can do a single thing for those afflicted by the invisble. All they could ever do in any way is tell that person or persons to get in touch with the Divinty within themselves and end it through the power of Creation. It is much like the double edged sword of everything in life. There will be those who benefit from this line of study and there will be those who are damned by it. From my vantage point the damned are going to far outnumber the enlightened.

"The devil's Own Dad"

Beaten and battered and then ripped and then torn
Battling the darkness since the day we were born
Gritting our teeth and finding the way
Playing these games, these games that we play
So many wounds from so many fights
Waging this war day after night
Damn that damn devil, he's a damn mean ass foe
Hunting us down, each place that we go
No doubt, indeed, a huge, massive prick
Getting his jollies by making us sick
Poking us here and proding us there
Searching for weakness and a good place to tear
No worries though, for it is why he wants us so bad
We come from the Father, the devil's own Dad

"On Knees"

And the black sets in; all pressure, all around
Hope, cloaked
Vision, blind
A perfect enemy amidst a perfect fog
Ah, yes, it is the black and it's all set in now
Feelings, mute
Bitter, taste
The cud of life rejoicing
The prince of this world doing a pretty little dance
And the black sets in; crushing my bones from every angle
Dreams, nightmares
Nights, neverending
And so it goes that the black sets in
At the end, near the middle, or just the beginning
Black, here
On, knees

Nothing

I accept the fact that my life has equated to the sum of the parts of nothing but one failure atfer another after another and another. All added up to the sum of nothing. There is a high degree of enlightenment in the knowledge of nothing. How ironic is that? Usually nothing means the exact opposite of knowledge, but then here I am finding knowledge in the fact that nothing is what most perfectly describes me and my existence here on earth. If I should try and describe my family to you, the best word I could use to describe them would be none. If I tried to tell a story of my friends the best word to use would be gone. None and gone and so the bleeding of my heart continues into the vast nothingness that is always dancing all around me. How nothing dances I do not know, but to see it everyday makes me appreciate the fluid and smooth movements it makes as it Tangos on my soul. Fail, failure, and failed and that is what I can take credit for accomplishing in this life. And oh the dance we do, failure, nothingness and me all being one spinning and slidng on the floor, but at least it really doesn't matter because no one is watching. I suppose that is the key to nothingness anyhow; the fact that no one is watching and it really doesn't matter. When the sum of the parts of my life add up to nothing then it is almost certain that little if any impact will be made by my departure from this world.

Pulled Pin

I cannot recall exactly when it occurred, but somewhere along the line, the hand grenade that is housed in my skull had its pin pulled. I suppose that the pressure produced by the activity of my brain has held the handle in place thus far. I suppose that it is still there preventing the delayed fuse from becoming delayed no more. The more and more I walk around, the more and more I feel it rattling around wanting to come free, wanting to do what it was intended to do. With each dead face that passes me by the threat is high, for their indifference and lack of attention makes my brain shake and roll about. Nobody knows that just behind my eyes is a very high explosive. Nobody cares. Why should they?

The devil Will Tap

Beaten and battered by a life so confused
Boy is the devil, the devil amused
Loss beyond coping and black in the night
Fighting and fighting and fighting the fight
The pride and the honor are lost in the fray
Humbled by God day after day
The devil is quite perfect in the things that he does
Mayhem and hatred he brings just because
Thank You Sweet Lord for giving him his way
For making me fight him day after day
I cannot beat him, he rattles my brain
My Spirit by God, keeping me sane
That is the Secret, I've been blessed to learn
That deep, deep inside me a righteous light burns
Ole lucifer would snuff it if only he could
If it were only on me, surely he would
I'll keep on enduring and taking his crap
For in the final struggle, the devil will tap

The Skunk Ape

I was recently fortunate enough to take part in an expedition to try and locate the infamous Skunk Ape primarily thought to be located in the State of Florida. I accompanied my love, Olivia, who had won the expedition while attending a Shadow's in the Dark twenty four hour broadcast. As for finding the Skunk Ape, or any proof of it, well... the Skunk Ape does not want to be found and it will never want to be found. Hair, calls, prints, and scents will never be enough to prove to anyone on a mass scale of the existence of such a creature. The only thing that will alert the nessessery amount of humans is the body or a body part. I am a ghosthunter and I have experienced many strange things and many terrific bumps in the night and I believe with all my heart and soul that there is so much more out there than meets the eye. I have learned, truly learned, to expect the unexpected. This being said I expected not one single shread of evidence and my expectations where right on the money. The Skunk Ape may very well exist, I just can't bring myself to conclude that all the witnesses of this creature are tripping balls or strait up bull-shiters. It probably exists and it probably has quite the distaste for human interaction. The Indians honored the creature, for they understood that it had a unique and very special connection with the Creator. They respected how it survived and it can be assumed that the Creator respects it for surviving the way it does. Balance. A harmony between nature and living beings and the Creator of it all. Human beings are said to be the caretakers of the earth, but I think it very possible that these creatures that elude us to this day are the true caretakers of the planet. I would not be surprised to learn that even the trees talk with them as they make their way. These animals are impossible to find because of a oneness with nature and God. I will admit that on the second day of the expedition I had to step about fifteen feet of very thick everglades undergrowth to drain the main vein. While taking care of what needs to be taken care of I got a massive whiff of Sulfer. It was thick and it was heavy and it lasted for about three seconds...The Skunk Ape has been found! Either that or I was just really dehydrated.

"America the rich, America the proud"

Rich assholes and self centered pricks
Gangsters, yankees, and a whole bunch of hicks
Powerful turds with too much to say
Players paid way too much to play
Hotels so large they block out the Sun
Only the rich, having their fun
The food and the gas are all overpriced
No one concerned with overly nice
Starving and hiding from the bite of the rain
The rest of the people living in pain
America the beautiful, America the hope
No wonder why we all smoke our dope
An American dream to those who now sleep
When they have woken what horror they’ll weep
Finding no power and finding no wealth
Returned to the Maker with their stuff of no help
The meek and hurting will in time take their place
As the rich and the mean are hurtled through space
America the rich and America the proud
Passing away like a Sun eaten cloud
God bless this place for there’s much that we need
Mainly a break from the power and greed.

"Remember the Cold"

When you cannot remember the good, and it all seems so old
Do not forget to remember the cold
It came for you once and took from you heat
All for the day, the day we would meet
Chilled and shivering all through your days
Living a life, confused by the haze
What you thought once was bad and no good at all
Was placed there upon you, so you’d answer the call
Remember the cold and when we knelt down
Where Granny would sit with your knees on the ground
Talking to God through the Grace of the Son
One battle down, one battle won
Remember the cold and how it did flee
Remember the joy and remember the glee
Of walking in warmth with no chill to bite
With no angry feelings and no angry spite
That place that had touched you was preparing the way
For a new life in sunshine, forever to stay
So if in doubt and pondering the bad
Remember the cold and always be glad.

"If you only knew"

Things buried deeply and yet coming alive
You cannot see them as you stand by my side
Tearing, and ripping, and gnashing within
Letting me know where I am and where I have been
Nightmares and horrors and tears without pause
So many people and dark days the cause
If you only knew, maybe my love would be clear
If you only knew, maybe you could put away your fear
Churning and swirling all through my soul
A love worth the fight, away we shall roll
You cannot see them, these battles I fight
With all of my strength, and with all of my might
Darkness and demons from strait out of hell
Trying their best to write the ending of this tale
If you only knew, maybe you could have peace
If you only knew, you’d know not to rip, to rip at the crease
The seal that keeps me from breaking apart
The seal that brings the beat to my heart
If you only knew
The love inside me that burns for you true.

"Bigfoot"

There seems to be, it seems a beast
Lurking and hiding all through the east
Bigfoot or Sasquatch or Skunk Ape it’s called
Maybe a man not quite evolved
Hairy and big and stinky and tall
It’s been known to run it’s been known to crawl
Whatever it is or where it is from
We know it not, from a grape or a plum
See it we might, but to catch it, no chance
It will leave us with only, with only a glance
Smarter and tougher than any human soul
Staying away, being its one major goal
Knowing us humans and the ways that we do
Seeing the Indians bleed and die by the hands of you know who
Run big fella, run so fast that the wind stays behind
Stay, stay away from this thing, this thing called humankind
Nothing is kind about the way that we are
We’d probably use your fur to upholster our cars
Living and surviving, bound to the wild
Very little doubt that you are a favored God’s child
Balance and unity with the ways of the land
Respecting the majesty laid down by God’s hand
Bless you fine Big Foot for living so hard
Making your way yard after yard
Humans will be gone and someday you’ll see
What it is like to live truly free.

I Don't Like Going to Church

I don’t like going to church. I love Christ and have an unflinching faith in His death, and His life, and His message. I believe that He did what was mandated Him by God and that His mission was to save human souls. That being said, I do not like going to church. I have for all of my life on this earth been a Southern Baptist Christian. I believe that the doctrines of baptism are sound and that to truly have a relationship with Christ you must perform the ritual that is said to descend Him upon you. It is in allowing yourself to take part in the ritual that you surrender yourself enough to truly make yourself known to God. That being said I do not like going to church. I believe with all my heart and soul that to love one another as we love ourselves is the only Way. I believe that charity and good will are the pillars of Christ’s message and that He lived His message. That being said I do not like going to church.
When I go to church I see all the folks who render their lip service worship for the week and then go right back to the judgmental, empty, and unenlightened lives that they lead. It’s ok for them because they can simply ask for forgiveness and that’s it. They do not want to know more. They do not want to think any deeper. They have been hardened by shallow minds. Their hearts will shine if they approve, but if it tests them, they will retreat behind empty words with empty meanings and a mean spirit. To them the Bible is a quite literal document that says it exactly like it is in every way. They do not realize that humankind is not smart enough to take the Bible literally. We are simply not smart enough to literally know the Word of God, and yet so many think that a country bumpkin with a seminary degree can literally interpret God’s Word from the Bible for them. It is insane. The Bible is indeed a road map, but it can only be used truly on an individual basis. If you have not read it through, you have no chance of getting anywhere with it. If you have to have a preacher man tell it to you then once again it will be lost to you. I don’t like going to church because what I see there breaks my heart and lets me know that the entire world is coming unraveled as we speak.

Where Have All the Smiling Faces Gone?

Where have all the smiling faces gone? Does anyone smile anymore? I spend the majority of my time walking the grounds of a massive American University and one out of a thousand people smiles. If there are two people walking together there is a slightly higher chance of seeing a frown turned upside down, but not because you passed, but because they might actually be talking about something funny with one another. (I bet it isn’t even funny) I know that whenever I pass someone on the sidewalk I always nod and smile as if to say hello, have a good one, and goodbye. I am almost always met with complete and utter nothingness. It is as if I am Ralph Ellison and have become the invisible man that he eloquently writes of being. It is as if people do not want you to be there passing them. It seems that it would be better for them if you just never existed at all. Why should they trouble themselves to acknowledge another human being that is within inches of them? I’ll tell you why, respect. They should respect the fact that I do not step directly in front of them and start river dancing, keeping pace as they go along. They should respect the fact that I put pants on and am not passing by them bare assed. They should respect the fact that I don’t pick my nose and wipe boogers all over my face as they approach. They should respect the fact that if I wanted, I could really fuck their day up good with an endless supply of tom-foolery, and mischief that lurks inside of my mind. People just seem to not give a single rat’s ass if there are other people on the earth or not. They have no respect that anyone else is alive, and for that, I must render little respect to a mass majority of the humanity I come in contact with everyday. I hope the day when I am a bare assed, river dancing, booger picker never comes, but who’s to say, I really am beginning to ponder such things. Please, just nod! All I need is a fucking nod! A smile, shit why would I even ask…poop…shit… Yea!

"Live as a Ghost"

So many faces, no expression at all
So many souls, so close to a fall
Knowing not this and knowing not that
Might as well be, some shit in a hat
So very immersed in me, and myself, and I
So close to nothing until the day that they die
Never a word while crossing their path
Only dead looks and looks born of wrath
So many lost, with no care to be found
Being that way until placed in the ground
At least they have helped me with a question I host
What it is like to live as a ghost.

Wayfaring Stranger

I am a poor wayfaring stranger traveling through this world of woe. My name is lost in the breeze and my face is hidden by the clouds and rain. Yet there’s no sickness, no toil, or danger in that bright world to which I go. You will not hear my footsteps and you will not see my stride. You will know nothing of me as the Lord makes the way that will lead me home. I’m going there to see my father, for I surely have not seen him here. I’m going there to see my mother, for I still do not know of her. Dark clouds are sure to gather around me, but for the grace of God I shall secretly find shelter from them. I am a poor wayfaring stranger traveling through this world of woe, people and places that I do not know. If it is to be lost, I have lost it. If it is to be suffered, I have suffered it. If it is to be hard and steep, I have climbed it. If it is to be roamed, I have roamed it. I am a poor wayfaring stranger and I go towards a place in which I will no longer roam. For but a single soul, my love Olivia, I am alone in the wilderness and my traveling is noticed by none. A poor wayfaring stranger I am, and I am glad it has made me this man, for what is not noticed by humans is always noticed by the Creator and it is that attention that I crave.

America What?

What do we know of righteousness? This land of the free, what exactly is free about it? We were created under God, so we say, and yet we are no more Godly than the devil, himself. Where is a person to go to find the righteous America that I have been taught about for all my life? These American values, what are they and why do they seem so superficial and self-centered? Why does it seem that the only thing that will ever make us anything is the fighting of wars and the remembrance of those wars? Why does Afghanistan still smolder from fires that we started almost ten years ago? Where is Osama Bin Laden? Iraq… well we have all known about the truth of it for a very long time, and so why do we hold not one single person accountable for their decisions concerning that place? When did we become such a society of pussies and spineless turds? You would think all the wars we’ve fought and still fight would prove us a tough and hearty population, wouldn’t you think? Why do our bravest and most dedicated citizens go bleed for assholes who will never truly care for their sacrifice? Why have their voices not risen from within the fog of war to such a pitch that all of Washington should tremble at it? What has become of us and when did money become the only god that we worship?
All of these questions can be answered with words like arrogance, selfishness, stupidity, greed, dishonesty, and so on and so forth until infinity. We walk through our pathetic lives almost all testifying to a faith in something more and yet we live like the only thing we have true faith in is ourselves. We have proven ourselves too prideful to gain the favor of the Lord and so now the storm shall descend upon us for our transgressions against goodness. It does not matter what political affiliation you fall under. It does not matter what denomination of Christ you consider yourself. It does not matter the social standing that you are a part of. The storm is coming, for we have become a people who testify to God that we are unworthy of our place and power upon this earth. The Greeks know it. The Romans knew it. Egypt has tasted it. The Persians are no stranger to it. The list is a very long one of human civilizations that became blessed upon the earth only to fall into a zillion broken pieces because they overreached their bounds. They began knowing that they were the greatest, most wonderful things on earth, and with that, natural Godly justice rained down upon them and they simply ceased existing. We are not immune to what sickened previous kingdoms and brought them crashing down. As a matter of fact, we are bleeding badly as each cell that makes us up explodes with infection, and without bandages from Heaven on High we are sure to bleed out. America you make me ask questions that I thought would never exist in my mind. America you have broken my heart. America will you wake, or will you fall like all the rest? America? America are you there?

Sacrifice

Who knows of sacrifice? Only the truly good will ever experience it. Only the truly enlightened will know its power. Only the blessed will be able to bare the weight of it. There are so, so many fools walking the face of the earth who will never have knowledge of it and with their blissful ignorance they shall condemn themselves to nothingness. "I" "Me" "My" and that is mainly what it is in this land of the free. Sacrifice has nothing to do with an individual thinking of one's self. Sacrifice can not be attained by having nice things or a good social standing in the community. There is nothing superficial about sacrifice. There is nothing selfish about sacrifice. There is no money to be made by it. There is no fame to be attained with it. There is no physical beauty caused by it. Sacrifice is the knowledge and belief that good will come by means of loss if we are strong enough and faithful enough to endure that loss. Imagine if all the rich people who cover all the corners of this land decided in one moment to share what they have with those who have absolutely nothing. It is a terrible thing to have so very much and to keep that quantity bottled up in an attempt at high status. Sacrifice is something that very few will ever know, and because of this, very few will ever possess true knowledge of good. And so it comes to pass that "many will be called, but few will be chosen."(Christ) My Lord tried to tell us that the only way to overcome suffering was to suffer it, and that the only way to know sacrifice was to sacrifice it. Why can't anyone seem to understand these simple principles or is it that we just don't want to know because it would require sacrifice on our part?

Remembering the Men of Iwo Jima

Here lye officers and men, blacks and whites, rich men and poor, together among these men there is no discrimination, no prejudice, no hatred, theirs is the highest and purest democracy. --- Too much pain and heartache have fertilized the earth on which we stand. We here solemnly swear, "this shall not be in vain." --- We will remember how you looked when we placed you reverently, lovingly, in the ground. Thus do we memorialize those who in cease living with us,... live in us. ---Out of this, and from the suffering and sorrow of those who mourn this will come we promise,...a new freedom for the children of men everywhere. Amen.

The words above come from the benediction conducted by a rabbi at the cemetery built to bury the Marines who died during combat operations on the island of Iwo Jima in February and March of 1945. I guess we're still working on making their sacrifice something that is not in vain. God please help us.

"A Beauty Less Ordinary"

A spirit quite tattered by the by the harshness of life
Battling and battling, strife after strife
Walking while lost, while searching for good
She would just like to chill, if only she could
Until she has found it, she will continue to reach
Defeating the darkness by entering the breech
Though pretty and fragile as seen by the eyes
Do not be fooled by it, for her innocence lies
She will fight like a tiger defending its home
When the black demons confront her on this road she must roam
Her gauntlet will end, for good is her fate
A beauty less ordinary, whose spirit is great.

"Beautiful In Sleep"

A vision of peace, she lays with her dreams
Beauty beyond reason, yes so it seems
An innocence so sweet shown on her face
A beautiful light, yes a true bit of grace
What a wonderful presence she'll leave where she sleeps
As she dances in dreams, no promises to keep
Unicorns and fairies are no doubt around
As her wings lift her higher, high from the ground
If I'm lucky I may be there in some shape or form
I hope that I'm happy, I hope that I'm warm
Into the night she travels in space
A few moments peace from the toils of this place
Bear stay away and cougar please go
She needs a wonderland ram dancing through snow
Come whatever might and come whatever may
Please give her peace, peace where she lay

"What We Do Not Know"

When their blood splatters to the ground do our hearts sink?
When their flesh is ground to dust do we tremble?
Do their screams reach our ears? As they suffer, do we?
What of their pain do we know?
We know nothing.
What right have we to know nothing of them?
We blunder about with their souls, never seeing their mothers
weep or their children's head hung low.
We commit them to dance with the devil while we sit aside
pondering only the most superficial things.
These men and women are a hell of a lot more than "things."
They dance in pools of blood that first ran across our hands
and we know nothing of it.
We let the devil have his way with them and our hearts do not break.
What we do not know kills them from day to day to day.
What we do not know seals their fate.
What we do not know is that their fate is ours.
What we do not know is that they bleed now so we can bleed later.
What we do not know kills them and damns us.
What we do not know will only be known when the truth is revealed.

A Real Sad Story IV

When a real evil plan comes together the results are always the same. Pain and suffering, loneliness and despair, heartache and nightmares are the only things born of evil intentions. At a Greyhound Bus station in Tacoma, WA the sting of such a plan penetrated deep into my being as I watched my boys and myself being ripped apart by powerful forces of darkness. I could no longer exist under the western sky in which my boys resided under. Their mother cared very little about me spending time with Nate or Mason. (Makes sense when she is boning my step-brother) She did have the heart however to give me a ride to the bus station so that I could retreat back to my native home in an attempt to save my life. I'll never forget how nice, and smiley, and kind that mean bitch was when she was giving me a ride to the station. My little ones were three and a half years old, but still did not have the ability to have a spoken conversation with me, so I had to communicate with them through their verbalized sounds and facial expressions. We stopped at a Mcdonald's where I shared what would prove to be the last meal I ever sat down with them to eat. After the meal we headed for the bus station. When we arrived I unloaded the two bags that served as everything I owned and I stood with my little boys at the front of the bus terminal and waited for the moment when I would be taken away. What do you do? What do you say? What is a man to do when he knows that a million nightmares and terrors are upon he and his children in the very spot they stand at that very moment? I did the only thing I could: I stood silently by them and like three frightened children instead of two we waited for our time in the wilderness to truly begin. I remember standing with them having a hand on each of their little shoulders and praying to the Creator that their backs should bare far less weight in life than mine. When my bus pulled up I knelt down in front them and told them that "it is going to be alright daddy is going back home to get some help that he needs." Both of their eyes began tearing up and then Nate and Mason hung their little heads down low. I gently caressed the bottom of their beautiful faces and raised their heads so that I could look into their eyes one last time for a very long time. They looked so confused. They looked scared and nervous. "It's all going to be alright my little angels, daddy loves you very much and will always be thinking about you." "I love you boys" and with that I turned away from them and boarded the bus that should take me towards the hardest test I have ever taken. I made it to my seat fighting back what seemed like all the tears I should ever cry. As I looked out the window there they were looking up at me from the terminal sidewalk. I pressed my hand to the window as a last attempt to feel them and they returned to me their precious little waves goodbye. I pulled my hand back from the window and moved it gently from side to side as I smiled the saddest smile ever smiled. I could see that they had begun crying, and with that, waters from the deepest parts of my being sprang forth and would not stop flowing for the next five hundred miles. They have never actually stopped, they simply pool up inside of me now. Not a single day has passed since, when I have not suffered what I know is also their suffering. Please God Almighty and Your Son Jesus Christ have mercy upon them that they might know somewhere within themselves that their daddy loves them very much and that he is sorry beyond all words for the thing that he has done to them. May the mercy of Heaven decend upon all involved in this, that the devil should not have the prize.

A Real Sad Story III

When I finally returned to North Carolina it had become apparent that my boys mother and I had reached the end of the line. I ended up staying with my Granny while she stayed with my mother. After being back less than a week two days had passed without me hearing a single word from my boys mother or my mother. I called mom's house to see what was going on.I asked "Can I speak to "bleep" (I don't like using her name) to which my mother replied "she's gone." "Gone where?" To which she replied "back to Washington State" to which I replied "are you shitting me?! that is fucked up!" My mother replied by hanging up the phone like the total and complete bitch that she is. I immediately called back and was answered by the purest turd to ever breath oxygen, my mom's husband John. He said, "you better quit threatening to kill people or else." I was so shocked by this statement that all I could reply was "are you fucking kidding me!? That pussy fart of a human being then hung up the phone and I never heard another word from the sorry sacks of ass. I was forced to leave for Washington State with no money, no place to live, no lined up work, or anything fucking else for that matter. I had no idea that a terrible ruthless plan had already been put into action by these butt smugglers who were trying to rape me of my soul. It seems that at the behest of my stupid mother and her ass clown husband my ex began a relationship with my step brother, a total ass-fuck-dick-licker. Years would pass and I knew that there was something very fishy going on, for there had to be a reason my ex held my children out on me like she did. I thought she was just a mean, vindictive bitch who was simply being the person I had learned she was while we were married. I could never have imagined that she would go so far or that my own mother would be the tutor for her wickedness.

Shattered Minds, Unbreakable Love

Ten thousand nightmares and a million broken dreams surround us on every side. Completely encircled by lifetimes of sorrow and regret we stand at the center of it held up only by the Grace of God and the love He has poured down upon us in the union that we share. So very close we have come to having absolutely nothing and yet here we are with all that we could ever ask for. These days, these terrible heart wrenching days, that we live through at the moment may not be so terrible after all. For I tell you truthfully that when we are weak and troubled the Spirit of our Lord does fine work indeed. When we become lost in confusion, doubt, fear, or insecurity the Spirit that we have been Graced with will always prevail. It is a strange thing and will not be understood until we return to our heavenly home, but we have been blessed with shattered minds and an unbreakable love. I would have it no other way. We would not be what we are if it had been any other way. All of these things that try and eat away at us are all very hard questions posed on a very hard test. Alone we could not pass it. Alone we would fail miserably. Alone we would not know one single question's answer. Glory, glory, hallelujah, that we stand together during our final exam and that our Teacher loves us beyond what we can comprehend. Just like children do, we shall wonder astray from time to time, but in the end we shall never blunder too far from the school house, for we have each others love to guide ourselves back to the place where we learn best. By your side my love and you beside mine and there shall be hope everlasting that it will be done on this earth as it is in Heaven. All my love Olivia. You are a blessing beyond what my shattered mind could ever comprehend.

Mom Dropped Dead in My Arms

Mom came through the door like she always did. She was a little late getting in because I can remember that the Sun was fading fast out the kitchen window. I can't remember for sure how old I was, but I place it at about six or seven. I was sitting on a stool at the kitchen table which was an island separating the kitchen from the living room. Mom leaned against the other side of the island and with a I'm so out there in the stars I can see galactic rabbits look on her face said, "I'm not feeling so good." With that, my Nanna got up from her recliner and hurried to the table just in time to catch mom from weeble wobbling face first onto the kitchen floor. In no time flat we were in Nana's Toyota Tercel racing to the hospital that mom had just left work from. I was in the back seat. Mom was right in front of me as Nanna used her right arm to steady mother from slumping into her lap. As the ride progressed mom began making sounds like a deep throated cow choking on clumps of wet grass. She jerked, and gargled, and drooled with a fury that I had never witnessed. As we were about ten minutes away from the hospital mom suddenly quit convulsing and with a mighty jerk, was thrust between the space of the front seats into my little boy arms. How I caught her I do not know. I looked down at her face and was instantly shocked by the bluish purple color surrounding her mouth. Her eyes were looking somewhere else and they really freaked me out. I began screaming, mommy wake up! Mommy wake up! Please Mommy wake up, I'm scared, Mommy I'm scared, wake up!" The terror that ran through me for those moments will never be forgotten. Mom had completely quit breathing and my Nanna, the real deal, calmed me down with "it's going to be alright, just hold your mom steady honey." When we arrived at the ER a team of nurses was waiting. Nana pulled mom back up into the front seat and told me to go to the lobby and wait there. As I looked back over my shoulder I saw the nurses and orderlies drag mom from the passenger seat. It was like they were trying to corale a huge water ballon that had been covered in axel grease. (Mom wasn't that big, but that is what comes to mind.) I remember vividly the t-shirt she was wearing that had become exposed from under her work garb. It had a picture of the Earth taken from high orbit and it had a fist flicking a middle finger over top of the planet. It said fuck nukes, and I agree. It was in that moment that I first prayed for real to my Heavenly Father. I remember weeping and holding my arms up to the sky and begging God not to take my Mommy. I cried and screamed to God in that lobby for quite some time before I was informed that mother had been brought back to life and that she would make it after all. God answered my prayer that night concerning my mom, it would be the last answered prayer when it comes to her for all my days on this earth. I have not spoken to her in years and years and I will never speak to her again. I know this, if would have known then what kind of influence she was going to have on my life, I definately would have prayed another prayer on that night that she slipped away. From where I sit now, it would have been far better for her to have stayed where she was at...damn.

A Real Sad Story II

For the first three years I was priviledged enough to be a father to my beautiful boys, Nate and Mason. It was in the first six months of their lives that their mother and I's relationship became completely unraveled. I began hating her and she began hating me. We had already weathered terrible storms in days past, but the lighting and gail forces just did too much damage. The tipping point came when our next door neighbor went ape shit crazy and began shouting death threats to myself and my entire family across the property line. It became so bad that I would have to get camoflaged and hide in the shrubs and trees to make sure that he didn't come over and try to take us out. That sorry sack of shit will never know how many times I stood within five feet of him with a .40 cal SW-99. He will never know how many times I split the center of his head with those sights as he talked mad shit about my family. A powerful Grace was present there. I wanted to kill him as dead as leaves in December, but if I would have done so I would have gone the way of my father and there would be little good in that. So began though, a journey to the depths of hell, for I opted to have my boys and their mother retreat to North Carolina (we were in Washington State) and stay with my mother and her lump of shit husband, John, until the neighbor situation could be resolved. (Never happened) I stayed back and continued working in a Casino to make enough money until I would join them back at my Carolina home. Of all the things I knew, I knew damn well better than letting happen what I let happen.

A Real Sad Story

On February 7, 2000 born into this world were Nathanial James Triplett and Mason Lee Triplett, beautiful twins and my precious boys. I will never forget Nate coming out first and almost instantly coming to life with strong breaths and healthy cries. Ten minutes later Mason came into the open air, but he made no sound. Two nurses hurried him just to my right and began doing their thing to bring breath to the little guy. It actually only took seconds, but indeed it felt like a thousand and one lifetimes before he finally sucked air. They were allowed a few moments with their mother and were then immediately whisked off to the neonatal care unit to be observed. Right off you could tell that Nate fought pretty hard to stay where he was because his head was really oblong from the struggle with the steel forceps. Mason must have thought "well, I'm going with him so why fight" because his head was nice and round. One honor that can never be taken from me are the moments when a nurse handed me Mason and I fed him for the first time from a tiny, little bottle. I'll never forget looking down into his little eyes as I put the nipple to his mouth. He really was trying to figure out what was going on. Should I open my eyes wide? Should I close them and sleep? Who are you that is holding me? I'm not gonna look at that, but thank you for putting it in my mouth. He was simply amazing. The first of an endless array of tears for my children began there in that moment. Little did I know that my tears of joy and thanksgiving would turn into tears of unimaginable grief, and longing, and pain. I can only pray to my Father that what has happened here with me and my two boys will be rectified by heavenly agents by heavenly means. If it should come any other way, the horror of it would be simply otherworldly.

W

W's a letter that comes aft of V
W's was the leader of the land of the free
W can be used to spell many words
W did lead a whole bunch of turds
W, definately, is the beginning of war
W the man starts one for sure
W the letter always ends with an x
W the leader left us a hex
W spells one third of why
W and war, and tricks, and a lie
W is vital to spell the word what
W the man, no better than smut
W and war crimes cannot stand apart
W and his lie, his stake through our heart
W and wrong get along well
W and right, right strait to hell
W, oh letter, I guess you should stay
W, old man, please go away

The Great American Bombastic Part 4

Whether it be a Stingray Corvette, Pontiac Firebird, or IROC Camaro it was always the same for me. My dad, drunk beyond all reason or logic, driving way too fast and way too angry. A small child should never have to contemplate what it is going to be like to die instantly in a horrible heap of twisted metal, but that was my existence for as far back as I remember. One particular episode will always stick out most vividly in my mind. Dad wanted to go hang out with his buddies at Watauga Lake which rests on the borders of North Carolina and Tennessee nestled in the mountains. I do not remember exactly how old I was, but I know I was still a little feller. Pop was already knee deep into a fifth of Jack Daniels and in normal drunk asshole fashion made me take the ride with him to hang out with his wild and wooly friends. I never wanted to go with him and always ended up having to simply because I was a little boy and not yet capable of whipping his sorry ass. So off we went in a souped up white Firebird at what I always considered the speed of sound. If a passing motorist, or stationary motorist, or anyone doing anything at all on the roadway did anything, my father would cuss them like they had just attempted to cut his wang off with a rusty knife. He particularly enjoyed getting so close up on people's bumpers that he could wipe their kid's asses in the back seat. If he encountered a bicyclist he would always fake like he was jerking the steering wheel in their direction so they would panic and hopefully fall into a ditch as they tried to avoid what was surely a mad man who wanted to kill them. These things were so commonplace, but on the day he wanted to go to the lake that day things went a little further than normal. U.S. Highway 321 is a bendy stretch of road even for those who are used to driving on curvy mountain roads. Looping turns, hairpin curves, hidden benders all riddle the way from Boone to Watauga Lake. So there I was riding shotgun with demons out to kill me and about ten miles from our destination they did what they could to do just that. We found ourselves behind two eighteen wheelers hauling huge logs that were stacked up to the max. Dad tolerated the delay for about five minutes with his GD this and GD that and GD you and GD me. Finally he could take no more and he pegged the gas peddle to the floorboard. I was very accustomed to the feeling of having my head pinned back to the seat as dad would gun it, but this time that feeling was accompanied by the certainty that we would not make it around these two massive trucks. The terror was made much worse by the fact that he began his pass right in the middle of a huge looping blind curve. As we got along side the first truck the driver laid on his horn to try and possibly relay some good sense to the obvious idiot who was passing him. Wow I thought, dying is going to be very weird, but at least it is going to be fast. I remember looking at the speedometer and seeing over ninety miles per hour. The whole time my father was laughing, and cussing, and being a generally worthless lump of shit as he toyed with death for a speedy arrival in hell. By the time we had reached the lead truck, which was pretty fucking fast, both truckers were laying on their horns and hitting their brakes. Just as we had enough room to get back over a pickup truck was directly in front of us. By the skin thickness of pop's balding head we got over and continued on our way. To my father shit like this was no big deal and he never even took one single mental note of such occurrences, but I will cut him some slack on that because he was in fact too drunk to remember anything. I wish it were the same for me, but I suppose it has always been for me to remember so that I never take the moronic steps that my father did.

The Great American Bomastic Part 3

I was five years old when my Paw Paw took me down deep into a place called Elk Holler so that he could get some gravel for the walkway he was constructing for his and my Granny, Maggie's home. It was a beautiful day and the Sun shown brightly in the sky. Elk Holler is so deep though that the Sun only has a few minutes in the day to pester you in the summer heat. We arrived at the spot where Paw Paw was going to obtain a little gravel and I immediately headed for the creek which was about twenty five feet away from Paw Paw as he dug a little gravel from the side of the road. I became lost in trying to snatch up lizards and torment crawl fish and such. Suddenly from behind me I heard a man's loud voice using very foul language and I turned around to see a man snatch Paw Paw's big ass solid steal shovel from his hands and in one fluid motion bring that thing up and then down right directly onto Paw Paw's forehead. I heard Paw Paw grunt, he staggered just slightly, and then I watched as he calmly took two steps back, reached into the cab of his old Ford truck and pulled out his .38 caliber revolver. In one fluid motion he had that gun looking his attacker right between the eyes...click,click,click. Click, click, click and the man that hit my Paw Paw stood with drooped shoulders and a head hung low. He knew that he should have been dead right there and I suppose that was the first time I ever saw a man truly defeated. The man's boy had run on to the front porch of their house with a deer rifle, but one look at his father and the boy kept his rifle at order arms. I don't know how, but I kept my stuff together pretty well and approached Paw Paw and asked him if he was ok. Paw Paw calmly looked me in the eyes and with blood pouring from a massive laceration on his head said, "come on squirt, it's time to go." I'll never forget coming out of that holler in that old Ford truck with my Paw Paw bleeding profusely and fighting hard for consciousness. The road down to Elk Holler is one bendy bird and it was one wild ride coming out of that place. It seems that the night before my father had cleaned Paw Paw's revolver out of kindness (probably the kindest thing my father ever did) and forgot to put the bullets back in it. Terrible things should have come of me down in the holler that day, but I have no doubt that the Good Lord has always been with me. Just another day of living the life of an American bombastic.

The Great American Bombastic Part 2

Being born into a world where your parents have already given up on the idea of respecting you as their sacred child is a hard world to be born in to. Mom and dad regretted bringing me into existence and this regret lives on to this very day. To them I ruined hopes and dreams by being born and neither one of the sorry fart blossoms ever recovered from the trauma of it. Mom wanted to be the most widely known road whore in a three state region, but I ruined it for her. Dad just wanted to be a drunk asshole and actually he succeeded quite well in such pursuits, I had little effect on him in such matters. I can only praise and thank the Lord in Heaven that they divorced each other very early in my life. My first actual memory is of my father beating the living shit out of my mom in a trailer we lived in. If they would have somehow stayed together, there is no possible way that I could have survived to write these words. I have no doubt in my mind that those sorry assholes would have just taken me out into the woods and left me as an offering to the demons that rule their souls. It is strange grace when a divorce may well have saved the life and soul of a helpless little child, but strange grace is the stuff I've lived off of for more days than I can now remember and I'll take it every time with a big smile on my face. I have absolutely no respect for my parents. I only have respect for the Lord my God for seeing me through their wicked ways. I am destined to be different than they and so I survive to write. I suppose bad mouthing them in this work makes it appear that I follow in their footsteps, but I know that it is what it is and no longer can I sit on my hands and internalize alone what they are responsible for doing to me. I must make it known so that even the tiniest amount of justice can be gleaned from this shitty situation.

The Great American Bombastic Part 1

"Arrgghh, oohhhh, shiiittt, eerrrr, fuuuuckkkk, ooohhh shiiitttt, why won't you come outta there you sorry little baaastard?!!!!" And with those words my mother ushered me into this beautiful world of ours. It seems that she had been in labor with me for nearly two days and I was not cooperating with her or the doctor in any way. There is little doubt in my mind that I knew what was coming and I wanted no part of it. The doctor actually had to clamp down on my head so hard with steel forceps that it severely deformed my skull. When I came out, my mother cried many tears, but her tears were born of the horrid thought that she would have to raise a retarded zucchini headed child. Since my father simply wanted me to be an abortion I don't think he was there with the proper kind of moral support. At least when mother was taken to her recovery room the nurses returned shortly with a baby with a perfectly shaped head and mom praised God that I had magically transformed from a mentally challenged zucchini boy into a normal looking child in just a few minutes. Well, the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, and it didn't take long for all the stooges involved to realize that I was still in the nursery and mother had been given the wrong baby. I can only imagine the joy in the room when ole squash head came roll'in back in. I can just see my father now standing in that room turning his back to the whole situation and wondering why God would curse him with such a woman and such a child. It probably did not take him long to go and get drunk as a skunk and day dream about beating mom to a pulp for undoubtedly tricking him into the whole situation. Mom, she was destined to hate me from those very first moments. I'll admit, I probably had a fistful of stomach and spleen, and a good strong foothold on her pelvic bone. I was dug in like a Georgia Tick on a hot summer day as I tried to stay where I knew those voices I had been hearing for months could not get to my sorry little ass. I think she knew that she would always be seeking vengeance against me with the literal pain that I brought her during my birth. So it began and a journey so twisted, weird, and bombastic has occurred that the story must be told and so I shall tell it.

I Miss You Granny

Granny I write you these words to let you know that I'm ok and you don't have to worry about me. I sure do miss you. I miss your smile. I miss your laugh. I miss your hugs. I miss your cooking. I miss how you took care of me and how you always had my back no matter what the circumstance. I miss everything about you and it seems that I am missing out on life here without you. What I miss most of all is your unconditional love. As an angel you now know perfect love. The amazing part about you is that you knew that same kind of love while you still lived on this earth. There are many that assert that a human spirit cannot transcend to the level of an angel, but I know that such a notion is as dumb as the people who believe such a thing to be true. They obviously never knew a person like you. Well, I knew you, know you, and trust that you received brilliant wings when you arrived before the Lord our God. You did very little in your life on this planet to contribute to the death of Christ on the cross and for this I am sure your reward has been more splendid and grand than the most beautiful dreams you ever dreamed while you were here. Though I miss your physical presence terribly, know that I feel you watching over me. As I walk through this wilderness I am sure that ahead of me you are clearing a safe pathway for me to travel home. I am still having a great deal of trouble understanding why I am here, but I do understand that because you lived I must live. Because you loved I must love. Because you suffered I must suffer. Because you fought I must fight. Long ago the possibility of me living a life as pure as yours was lost to stupid youth and dark impulses. Know this my sweet Granny: I will do all that I can to search out a way of living that would make you proud and that you and our Lord Christ would smile about. I have not the slightest idea as to how this life is going to go from here, but I will persevere until it is my time to return where you are. I love you Maggie Lee Triplett and will always be in awe of how you lived and loved. I will do what I can to be only a portion of what you were. If I can be just a tiny portion of what I know of you I will have done well and I will leave this world with my head held high, knowing, that being only a tiny bit like you I moved mountains within my soul. God Bless You Angel, rest and bliss are surely yours, and know that I am not too far behind you.

Wake Marine, Rise Marine, Go Marine

The time has come that the warrior inside of me should rise again from the ashes of a life burnt to the ground. The time has come that the Marine I am, starting doing what Marines do best; it is time to strap it on and start kick'in some ass and not worrying about taking any names. Wake Marine and be accounted for. Rise Marine and ready your arms. Go Marine and do some work. What have you got to lose? Jesus has your soul and that title will always remain, for no man can take it from you. It is the same with the title of Marine; it shall always remain. Do whatever you will or do whatever you like, but do it like a Marine would do it and the angels shall protect you in the combat for your very soul. Marines are forced to be hard men by the works of satan and all of his henchmen. Hard men are just the sort of men needed to combat a hard world and Marine you are blessed to be so. Demons you know well. Hell is something you do not have a hard time imagining. Battles for your soul have always been and will always be. You are a Marine and battle is what you were made for. Whether it be in the darkness or in the light you are prepared to hold your ground. Wake up Marine to the honor of fighting on the side of angels. Rise Marine to meet the challenge of your Redeemer's Words. Go Marine and honor your faith and title. Semper Fi.

To the East

Walking to the east and the Sun rises right strait in front of me. Walking to the east and hearing the voices of a thousand angels singing through the grass and trees. From the west I have come and the devil is in close pursuit. He knows that if I reach my destination I will be lost to him, and I suspect he can hardly bear the thought. I walk to the east towards a pool of water that shall deliver me from the clutches of the dark prince. I see it now, that bright white steeple bearing the symbol of the Christ and signaling me to begin my journey home from beneath it. Here I am standing before this house of the Lord, and I for the first time, I am certain of what waits for me inside. I finally understand. I have finally been given the secret. Today I am finally ready after all of these years to accept within myself the Spirit of Jesus Christ. It was to the east that He drank the cup and it was to the east that He hung and died, and so I have walked to the east to truly share my part with Him. I am humbled that He would share it with me and in awe that He would do the same for so many others. Now that it is done and I walk in Him, the devil will try harder and harder to set the Sun and leave me in darkness. So to the east I shall go, for the Son has risen there and He will always light the way.

Nothing Left

When I was a little boy I had great dreams of doing special things in this world. When I was a little boy I had a limitless hope that I would follow in the footsteps of my Granny Maggie and be a person that people looked up to and admired. There was a time when dreams and hope had very real meaning to me, but for my sins, they have faded from my life and the Lord hath delivered me into the wilderness that I should learn by torturous fire the meaning of righteousness by means of tribulation. It is not what I thought it would be, but it is what it is and I have no trouble accepting the trials placed down before me here. I believed at one time that if I made it out of my awful childhood intact, the Lord would reward me with a peaceful life. I believed for a very long time that if I could avoid becoming like my worthless, mean natured, and godless father I would find much favor with the Creator. I knew with certainty that if I could become more than my fluzzy, evil mother that I would be well on my way to a blessed existence. I am nothing like my idiot parents, but instead of being rewarded I have been put to the test. The Good Book states that the Lord will never place upon you more than you can bare. I do indeed thank God, for it seems that I have been gifted with a very strong back meant to carry a very heavy load. If it should at some point break at least I will know that I carried it as long as I could and that, though I wanted to many times, I never gave up. Hell, one wise man once said, "sometimes nothing is a pretty cool hand" and so I venture on with nothing in this world and pray for the day that I might lay my suffering down at the feet of Christ that He should take it from me.

FSC (Fucking Shitty Cigarettes)

And lo and behold those sorry cocksucking shit birds of all time at the cigarette companies and at all levels of government in this country have finally made me want to quit... smoking that is. Yea, I'm a dumb shit for ever had starting smoking in the first place. Yea, I know it will kill me deader than hell. Yea, I know a lot of people set things on fire with carelessness when their stupidity is mixed with a gig. I thought I knew everything I had to know about the retardedness of consuming large amounts of smoke at any given time. Boy was I wrong and boy it really is beyond mind blowing how fucked up this FSC bullshit is. How many thousands of people meet the reaper because of the chemicals ingested while smoking? It ain't thousands cause it's in the millions and now it's going to get a whole hell of a lot worse. Makes sense in this "free" country of ours that now we have the option to quit smoking or coat our fucking lungs with a fire suppressant that doubles as a rubber cement to keep carpet secured to the floor. All in an effort to keep people from burning themselves to death while they attempt to smoke while sleeping. Sleeping and smoking will always mean emenient death and there isn't a brilliant mind on earth that will ever change that fact. If they think these new generation cigs will prevent forest fires they need only light one of the little poop sticks in a breeze and see if the damn thing goes out, it won't and they can kiss my sorry ass. Fuck you Phillip Morris. Fuck you state of New York. Fuck you Federal Government. Fuck every one of you stupid taint faced cock gobblers for being so smart at being fucking idiots. This land of the free has been pissing me off more and more every single day for at least the last ten years. Thank you America for truly earning the title of FSC, a fucking shitty country...Damn.

"App State Blues"

Walking alone in a blistering rain
Trouble and terror blistering the brain
What used to be home, now foreign and weird
Into the mind these images seared
The place where I grew and the place where I learned
Inside of my heart my hometown has burned
Appalachian State and all of its size
Killing the mountain and stealing the prize
Progress and numbers and money galore
The peace of the mountains, this peace is no more
Under the veil of false knowledge, the money machine grows
Who's really learning, nobody knows
Mountaineer locals all fade away
To thousands of kids whose parents will pay
So home is no more as progress is made
The green disappears as the pavement is laid
Another town dead that looks so alive
Not to this boy and not through these eyes