About The Weather

The Humid air is taking some getting used to. I would like to say
I like the hot weather, but then I'd be just flat out telling a story.
I was built for coolness.
I want to find the covers at night
And pull them up tight.
Help me find the covers.
A summertime place up North or down South
Close to a pole where it's cool.
Worth the risk of getting eat by a Polar Bear.
I'll come back to Alabama in December and help
Pick up pecans.
But when it comes to living, let me have mine cool and breezy.
Like I have found the darkness in my dreams.
Bitter cold International Falls sixty below
I never felt a thing.
I was wearing everything; all of my clothes
the breaks were frozen and I had to get out and crawl;
Down on my hands and knees to get free.
I was happy though, cause at least it's not hot.
I was thinking. Now this humidity's another thing.
Like a sauna. Crawling across my skin.

What Makes Life Worth Living

They never write back. I see little chance she ever will.
She's not a writer. Even if she does write, she does not write to me.
I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of being there alone.
The world's not fair to me, to my ilk.
I accept my aloofness, but I don't like it.
I don't think it's fair. But I know it is fair.
I know I have alienated myself and I know I'll be alone from now on.
So be it, leave me to it. Quit looking over my shoulder.
No one is coming. No one ever will.
Be kind. Be nice, but don't think that will ever be enough.
She's not calling. She's not writing. She's not really there.
The whole idea was a sham.
I get this way every Spring. What's the matter with me?
When will I learn?
I guess I'll never give up hope and that's what makes life worth living.

Mother's Day was Yesterday

The conservative ideas of a mongrel have my mind in total chaotic state. I am confused. I stay confused and rarely find my way out of so lost a state of mind. I'm not into this at all and I find myself lonely and frightened. I go on. The way I'm doing now. I go on and I still try to just write through the emotional let downs. Emotions running very high right now. It's about that time. The magical time is when I am about to get to do something I like doing. And this time of this day is fast approaching. Happy belated Mother's day. I miss you. I love you and I see you in my minds eye. I try talking to you, like I talk to Jesus, in my mind. I was a the grave today, but I'm not much on grave yards. Please forgive me for not being there more often. I'm sorry. I love you Mama and I miss you. If you can put in a good word for me, please help me find peace.

Blue Monday

Don't write on bad days. I tell myself that now, but then I never do. I write sometimes to forget good and bad days. That's a good reason to keep a journal. Just to write, get things off my chest. I find it healing to write about me and what troubles me. And I often find that troubles are not really that bad. Once I've written them down, I feel better and I feel like these are shared and they belong to everyone. I've never known anyone who's read my journals. I can't imagine anyone who might want to read me. In a thousand years I see them as dust. Long forgotten memories of a man who never really mattered. All I'll leave behind is a pile of dust among many other piles of dust. Where will all of our books be by then? I don't imagine there still being books in a thousand years. Are millions still alive then and will there still be an appetite for simple books? I hope so. I hope knowledge and books last for ever. I pray for diversity and for modern thinkers. I pray for people who will and who do and for people that see the future and smile.

A Prayer to St Jude

Days at a steel mill in Alabama.

It's been years and years of night shifts
Wondering and Wandering around here
In the dark.
And then one day a man has a thought
And I'm back on days. Like it or not,
This is my party, you'll do as I say.
Yes, Boss. I do as you say. Thank you
For my job. And thank you for my pay.
I'm just glad to be here, glad to be alive!

(Not Really)

This place and people like him suck
The life out a person and all the fun
Out of life. The bone weary just get
Bone wearier. The fat get fatter
Their weight, harder to carry. I don't care
Lord, just get me out of here as soon
As I possible can.
Thank you Jesus,
Thank you Lord.
Amen

It's been over a year...

...since my last confession. Not much is changed. I'm still fat, ugly and alone. I have bad breath, bad teeth, body odor and low self esteem. (Any wonder) I'm alone? Not to me. I hate myself when I don't remember, I go in, sit down and try to talk to a woman. And then I see it in her eyes and remember. Too late by then, the damage is done. I live in a dump. I work two full time jobs and I'm broke.

I'm blessed. With all of this negativity in my life, I refuse to loose sight of all that I do have. I have my faith and I have my sobriety. Thank you Jesus, thank you Lord.

I was in the office today talking to Kay and she was polite to me (she's always polite) but I could see in her eyes; as plane as day, please go away. I walked out to the truck and if I had another joint in my leg, I would have kicked myself in the ass, all the way. I saw myself in her eyes just as plane as day. Why don't I remember, before it's too late? Before I make that fool of myself. I'm convinced I am supposed to feel this pain. All a part of my penance. I am doomed to repeat, over and over again, the same pain. I deserve the pain. I don't welcome it, but I do know from wince it came.