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.