Old Crow Medicine Show
Category: Writing and Poetry

Ok so here is the last fucking poem I am ever gonna write about a certian woman who will remain nameless.

The Old Crow Medicine Show

It's a sad, sad beautiful world
and here I am crying. wishing
for a bottle from that Old Crow
medicine show so I can drown
myself in it's liquid brown
lonesome.

My hands are kinda shakey
see I am in a bad place
I'm an alcoholic looking more
for my next drink than I am
for another god damm meeting

Because sometimes a man
really needs a shot to numb
the pain of heart-break
to numb the pain of not
having you.

and I,

I am still a man.

You are at the bar

falling back in love with him
and his fists that once beat you
and will most likely smack you around somemore.
and I thank God that I am here listening to
street prophets and noise merchants
because right now not even clown
make up could give me a smile to wear
before you.

I have beads of sweat forming like
little drops of New England morning dew
across my forhead Sweat is common here
in the desert where even my tears are going
through a drought and my soul is becoming
desolute.

It's a sad sad beautiful world
and here I am crying wishing for a
bottle from the old crow medicine show
so I can drown in it's liquid brown
lonesome

because sometimes a man like me
deserves a shot to help numb the pain
of a heart-break to numb the pain of
not having you

but there's an empty glass sitting before me

and my recovered alcoholics ass

I smile and stand up to leave
not knowing if I'll ever drink again
but knowing that tonight

I will not drink over you.

3:08 AM - 1 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Red River Inn Blues
Category: Writing and Poetry

In my mind's eye I am still dancing in the darkness
to the rythum's of your heartbeat laying next to mine
As the Louisiana rain falls outside of room 187 of
The Red River Inn.

I would listen to your heart and I knew that it beat
for only me. I can still hear the music

though I know the dance is long over
as there's a woman laying upstairs in my bed
who'se soul has not taken the time to learn
how to play the love strings in tune
and my Joe Cocker wail just doesn't fit

I still dream in the darkness of you.

As your heart beats for somebody new.

2:17 AM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

one more thing for rick

A blonde bombshell bimbo asks the bartender

"What goes good with Gin?"


His reply

"Domestic violence and cops" 

10:05 PM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Because Rick Told Me Too
Category: Writing and Poetry

Now then as we all know there are many rules to working
in Bars and Nightclubs that  are not written in any rule book
until now so to all my readers and lab rats please indulge in the following
for it will make your life and employment in this biz more profitable and enjoyable.
For your convience I have broken this down into each  level of employment.
 
Door Guys
the hot underage chic will not fuck you, do not let her in
if she has already fucked you to get in the club cut your dick off
it is probably diseased. You are the anchor-man of the team don't let any
underage fuckers in, besides there are benifits to banging a MILF you might get a fruit roll-up and a caprisun in the morning underage hot chic has a bottle of ketchup and three packs of mayo left over from some fast food place.

Floor Walkers

The broom and dust pan is your best friend why because it will supplement your income as in the more your cleaning the more you will find money and the less Rick will yell at you

Beer Tub and Shot Girls

Fuck your co-workers do not give up the pussy to those non tipping assholes
just cuz' the look oh so cute NO PAY NO PLAY know it live it and yes the bar back who gets all your beer on time and makes your job easier deserves a blow job every now and then

Bar backs

Work your asses off why because you are the back bone of the club so walk tall walk proud and take no shit, show up put up get tipped out and fuck a beer tub girl.

DJ's

You all suck! if you wannna make music start a fucking band
just kidding play by the book if you are jamming to something that
you think is cool and that dance floor is empty than you are not as cool as you think you are.

bartenders

Tip out your bar backs well you cheap fucks
also up-sale all the time ALL THE TIME!!!!
there is no excuse for selling cheap shit all night long
also it is your job to promote the fucking club so do so
invite every one you meet to come out have your own
biz cards made up you will make more $$$$$$ in the end

however there is the number one rule

and that is protect Rick at all costs

3:53 PM - 1 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

New Shit & The Sunday Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry

Ok Ok Ok I know you are all waiting for me to post some new shit
and believe me I have a lot but I am saving for an upcoming chap book
but I'll post some when I get more time.

As for the Sunday Open Mic this will be the last week I will host it.
I really just don't think that one venue can host two readings a week
and I am oh so tired of the coffee house crowd sending e-mails to John and Herc about the use of bad language, soooooo I have had some conversations with Sonny the owner of the Sin City Saloon and will be setting up a reading series there though it will be 21 and up sorry kids but I think it will be a good thing for all the misfit poets who really don't fit in on Tuesdays. More details to follow

Peace Love and Chicken Grease you dirty bastards

Cactus

9:46 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Right now

Right fucking now is the best fucking time to be alive
because right fucking now we as a global generation
have to power of fucking youth and technology on our side
that we can stand up and give a heartfelt fuck you to all
them old men in power and thier old ass wars.

if the war in Iraq goes on for another five years we
as American fucking people have to answer our children
and explain to them why we let this shit go unchecked for so long
that we couldn’t stop it. we already have a lot to discuss

The shit going on in the Gaza Strip how many generations have to die
how many children have to grow up with hate in thier hearts? how many
more generations must die?

There in this country right now is a damm good chance that we might have a black man as president, so I make this point see white american has a hunger to get past the black and white shit once and for all but there is the stepping stones of the good old boy clubs standing in the way. so what changes? does the sixty year old iron worker who’se drunk in a small town bar stop saying racial slurs?
odds are no. does the under educated gang banger put down his gun and pick up a book? nope probably not.

But it is a great fucking time to be alive I tell you it’s a fucking great time
because once I click post on this blog over 8000 fucking pairs of eye are gonna read it and maybe just maybe it might make sense to a few of them who are smarter than this small town kid screaming from the wilderness so then they write a blog and maybe 16000 see thiers and maybe it gets to the son of that iron worker who tells his dad that his racial slurs ain’t funny, maybe it gets to that kid with the gun and maybe just maybe he he leaves his gun at home and goes to school. you never know but today is a great fucking time to be alive because your ideas travel at the speed of now which means that the entire purpose of this blog comes down to two words

Think Bigger

12:29 AM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Homecoming
Category: Writing and Poetry

Thin wisps of desert dust
dance like ballerina’s across
the streets of this lonesome town.

The wind has started to pick up
I pull my jacket tighter and I
fumble around in my pocket for
my smokes and my lighter.

The stars are crying silver tears
You can almost hear the moon’s soulful
lullabye. The dogs they have all grown
quiet, they must smell the blood that’s
about to be spilled.
Lightining streaks across the sky
and the thunder is screaming
Sooner or later the sky is gonna open up
and wash away all my future sins.

In the distance,
there a pale glow of a neon sign
offering a warm welcome on a
cold night to a bar with no name.

There’s a man I have never met
sitting at the bar he’s a big man
six foot three and maybe two forty five
he’s drinking long necks and shots of rye
I call him step father though that don’t
make him family.

See, I had just gotten home from my
second tour of duty in Iraqto find my baby
sister crying saying how her new Daddy
is mean when he touches her down there
so after two years of killing, killing one more
ain’t gonna be that big of a deal.
I’ll get off too say it’s post tramctic stress
or I’ll just cop one of those temporary insanity
pleas. Fuck it the don’t lock up war hero’s like me.

From this distance I can hear the jukebox.
Martry Robbins singing "With the big iron on his hip"
How fitting I think that they play songs about death
I can now hear the laughter, moments away from becoming
screams of terror and as I open the door

The first drops of rain start to fall.

12:07 AM - 1 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

ummm yeah
Category: Writing and Poetry

I haven’t been writing much of anything lately
sorry,
the simple truth is since some asshole stole my back pack
I have been rewriting everything and haven’t really made
time to write new shit.

Sue me,

will there be any new shit
yes, but when I ain’t sure.

so how about yo momma jokes

yo momma so ugly she makes onions cry

8:26 PM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

You will never read this poem
Category: Writing and Poetry

Your eyes will never read this poem,
your ears will never hear it,
this poem will not exsist in your world
where you say you just want to be friends
letting me know that you mean I will be your
best friend only when it is convienet for you
to have a man like me in your life.

So this poem will live and breathe and have a life of it's own
outside of your reach it will not be smashed by your
unreturned love, it won't watch you throw your life
away one jager bomb at a time.
one asshole at a time. While I choose to keep loving you
though every fiber in my body is screaming for me to walk
the hell away from you, my heart won't let me
so I stay because the pain of loving you is still easier
to deal with than the thought of not having you.

This poem will not die, it will be pressed in a book of poetry
some place, it will be a binarny code floating forever on
this thing called the internet.

This poem will be the death of me.

4:17 PM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

The Return of Poetry Fuck Yeah

Marvin Scott Marvin
and myself will find ourselves
sitting in some bar later on this evening
and over a pitcher of beer we will plan the
ultimate return of the greatest poetry reading
in the history of LAS VEGAS Bitches
Things to keep in mind yes it will be held in a bar
and yes it will be held much later in the night
as we are planning on starting around midnight
more details soon

8:12 PM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Louisiana Is Nice
Category: Life

Louisiana is nice,
but I wish you were beer
so I could drink you down into my belly

get in my belly
get in my belly


Seriously the trip has been good,

10:42 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Louisiana Is Nice
Category: Life

Louisiana is nice,
but I wish you were beer
so I could drink you down into my belly

get in my belly
get in my belly


Seriously the trip has been good,

10:42 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Wen. Night
Category: Travel and Places

For those of you who don 't know
This wen night after I get off from work
I am haulin ass to Dallas TX and then on
to Shreveport LA

so some of you won't see me for a few weeks
and some might just get to see me for the first time
in a couple of years.

10:36 PM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Static
Category: Writing and Poetry

Loving you is like listening to an
Old 45 of Etta James singing

'At last my love has come along
my lonely days are over"

on a old phonograph
that can only play the music
on the left channel

So I only get half the love song
loving you is like that
I'm half the song
your the static
coming off the right channel

as I did everything that i could think of
to proclaim my love to you
to show you that my love for you was true

and the only thing that you ever gave me was

static.

8:17 PM - 4 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Dead Fish Mojo Woman Redeux
Category: Writing and Poetry

..> ..>

She spray painted her eye shadow on once again Glossed her lips with a straw-berry kiss, put pink highlights into her Raven black hair, and tonight she's here with her new man, young love on display in this fucking bar with no name. My Dead Fish Mojo Woman who doesn't know that I am still under her spell, as her every movement can bring me joy, but right now it's just a straight shot of pain. Lord knows how bad I be a hurting right now. As she dances around me in her voodoo ways she's now an ocassional fllirt she doesn't mean to make it hurt it's just the next role for an Ex-Drama Queen. She flashes me a smile that ranks up there like a ten point zero on the rickter scale, You know perfect devastation to a man like me. As she doses her new man with her mumbo-jumbo in a bottle thats called love potion number nine I find myself openly crying as my tears fall down my face. I'm just another voodoo doll for her to stab with her voodoo pins as I hear her say I love you to him, I feel a piece of me die As I wish just once she said that to me.

4:10 PM - 2 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment