Lock, Stock, And Barrel

What is 100 proof?

It is full strength,

Not watered down,

Not diluted.

100 proof,

Comes off as in-your-face,

It is flamboyant,

And not for the faint of heart.

If angst is inside,

It should fucking shine,

Not be kept bottled up inside,

So others won’t think you corrupt,

But the same can be said,

For experiencing joy or pain,

And even of feeling mundane.

Own yourself,

At 100 proof,

Don’t go all lame,

To become a crowd pleaser,

Camouflage,

To acquire an unnecessary entourage –

……….That’s just too fucking ridiculous.

Not many can take me,

At 100 proof,

They expect everyone and everything,

To be just like them,

To speak and act and react,

A replica of what they would,

Newsflash motherfuckers,

I’m not a brainless block of wood!

There’s many things,

That come 100 proof,

People, faith, and alcohol,

Do you have it?

Can you take it?

Or will the trust put in you be shaken?

Consumed By Rage

I’m chilled to the bone,

Frozen through and through,

I’m cold deep down,

Another warm Florida night,

God I wonder,

What could have caused me such a plight?

It’s the attitudes,

Which at me have been threw,

How does anyone know,

How many faces are possibly hid,

Behind the eyes of each and every ma’am and dude?

Fuck!

I’m shivering inside,

It boggles my mind,

Do they all think I am blind?!

Icicles are hardening my soul,

Thanks to these motherfucking trolls.

I feel the temperature of ice,

Being slowly transported through my veins,

It flows along,

And I silently scream in torture,

Oh when will this nightmare be over?

Blood so cold now,

It has turned to snow,

The flakes and drifts,

Threaten to send my mind over a cliff,

I can’t think straight,

Everything’s in a haze,

Thoughts more confusing,

Than a harvest-time corn maze.

I’m so sick of lips that lie,

And eyes that spy,

They make me scream,

And they make me cry,

My body is becoming,

A furnace of anger,

Explosion is an imminent danger,

This high heat,

Hot enough to melt bars of gold,

Has gone and turned me stone cold.

Thanksgiving, Under The Influence Of Jameson And Fireball

I think sometimes it’s actually easier,

To list the things for which I’m ungrateful,

Than to think of some,

For which I am thankful.

But today being what it is,

I’ll do my best to turn that around,

And prove to the world,

I’m not completely upside down.

I’m happy with my loyal friends,

Who are my actual family,

Despite the fact that my blood,

Tends to treat me like crud.

I’m happy I’ve moved on,

From psycho ex bastards,

Despite the fact that if I’m not careful,

It will lead straight to my next disaster.

I’m happy to be a stunning beauty,

Boasting both muscles and femininity,

Despite the fact the nasties in nightclubs,

Sicken me by blatantly grabbing my booty.

I’m happy that the weekend,

Is always guaranteed to come around,

Despite the fact that it always ends,

With another hellish week,

Waiting right around the bend.

I’m happy to have my doggie,

To keep away the dangers,

Despite the fact that she also scares away,

Some who are far from strangers.

I’m happy I live,

In a land with endless summer,

Despite the fact that all the sweating,

Is a real bummer.

I’m happy I have talent,

That is artful and creative,

Despite the fact that all the left-brainers,

Think of me as insane.

I’m happy my pony,

Awaits me in Heaven,

Despite the fact that thinking of her,

Makes the Earth seem slightly lonely.

I’m happy I have a job,

That pays enough to buy a good life,

Despite the fact the hellhole,

Is so full of strife.

I’m happy I’m not easily brainwashed,

By the leftist media,

Despite the fact that blindly believing,

When they pout and shout,

Would be an easy way out.

I’m happy I live in the age,

With plastic surgery,

Despite the fact that recovery,

Is temporary misery.

At the moment,

This is all I see,

Maybe there is more,

But at present,

This is all that is transparent.

Intuition

Listen to me,

Let me guide you,

When truths try to hide from you,

Let my voice,

Help you make a choice.

I’m your gut feeling,

A part of you,

That you may not believe in,

But if you’d maybe stop to listen,

I could become the one,

On which you most depend.

I’m that impression in your mind,

That’s more like just an inkling,

Though not coming off too forceful,

My message is still powerful,

It can save you from countless circumstances,

And prevent you from taking needless chances.

When I send shivers down your spine,

It’s not just some nobody,

Feeding you a line,

Don’t discount it,

But take the warning,

To save yourself from mourning.

Proceed with caution,

When I send a premonition,

Consider seriously,

Before proceeding,

When you’re met,

With that foreboding feeling.

If you feel me in your bones,

There’s a reason for their moans and groans,

It’s paramount you pay attention,

Else your soul stop singing,

And funeral bells begin ringing.

I know I’ve raised your suspicions,

And given you a hunch,

In a bunch of situations,

When your mind seemed out to lunch,

Now here,

Accept a final warning,

Take heed,

So your eyes open come morning.

Before

What is done,

And what should be done,

Too many times,

Are two different things.

Life at this time,

Has lost its shine,

Do people’s dirty little tricks,

Too make your stomach sick?

Let us rewind,

Hundreds of years,

So as to get away,

From so many vile liberal minds.

I’ve been known to wonder,

Why wasn’t I born,

Way back when?

Eventually though,

It’s concluded,

That I was,

But then,

Like everyone does,

I was reincarnated,

Time and again,

Until now here I am,

Part of this modern world,

That’s congested with hatred.

How many previous,

Lives did I lead?

What did I get up to?

And did I succeed?

Does that even matter?

To these I’ve no answer.

I’m sure there were many,

Some in the times when being rich,

Required barely more than a penny,

And other souls were so far off,

That a walk to visit neighbors,

Would wear a hole in one’s socks.

I hereby suggest someone,

Invent a spell,

That can take a body back,

To when things were simple,

To when for the most part,

Society was civil,

Rather than sinful.

I beg of you,

Let me go back,

To whenever it was,

That my first life was lived,

Modern conveniences be damned,

The peace would more than make up,

For what I would lack.

Independence Day 2020

The Earth is beautiful,

But the World is one hot mess,

Are we all fuct?

Have you all given up?

Because I was born,

The same way I’ll die,

And that is free,

One hundred percent,

Not just to some degree.

Some people seem to know,

Just what buttons to press,

To start another war,

It about makes me envious,

Of those about to go knocking,

On death’s door.

Before all the land was settled up,

The pioneers had the right idea,

They were wild and free,

And lived off the land,

Never submitting to laughable laws,

Of another man.

Slow and steady,

The years passed by,

The population grew,

And everyone thought,

They knew what was best to do.

Now there is this piece of shit,

Known as politics,

No matter how far you travel,

There’s no escaping it,

They’re at your local grocery store,

And at the nearby sea shore,

Face it,

Once you’ve dared,

Walk out your door,

You’re not free,

And nothing’s fair.

Now here I sit,

Trying to make,

Some sense of it,

It’s looking like half are lying,

Just to set the others crying,

It won’t be long,

And the tables will turn,

Somehow everybody’s right,

Though both sides say,

The other is wrong.

This year,

Freedom is not ringing,

It really hasn’t for some time,

Well last I checked,

My taxes are paid,

So I’ll do as I please,

In this supposed Home Of The Brave.

Excuses to sidepass unconstitutional rules,

Should not be essential,

And a possible arrest,

Should not even have potential,

I ask,

Why celebrate the Fourth,

If you don’t discern its worth,

And if you do indeed identify,

Rather than fall prey to political lies,

You should act free,

And you should act brave,

Until you are called,

To your grave.

Hmmmmm……….

I don’t know why,

A storm rolls in light before sound,

But I do know this,

The rain it brings,

Makes the browned ground rebound.

I don’t know why,

Black is associated with evil,

But I do know this,

Colorful things can be lethal,

And darkness can be regal.

I don’t know why,

Trees can produce paper,

But I do know this,

If we keep being takers,

We’ll regret it later.

I don’t know why,

It’s normal for heads to grow hair,

But I do know this,

I’d wear a lot more hats,

If up there were bare.

I don’t know why,

Green means go,

But I do know this,

There’s always at least one,

Determined to go too slow.

I don’t know why,

Good belongs on the road less traveled,

But I do know this,

It’s supposed to be worth it,

At the striking of the final gavel.

I don’t know why,

Pies are made round,

But I do know this,

I’ve found they’re not worth,

The extra pounds.

I don’t know why,

We let machines replace people,

But I do know this,

Progress’s side effects,

Spiral down,

And cause something else to cripple.

I don’t know why,

The movie is never as good as the book,

But I do know this,

So many will never know,

Because the book they’ve overlooked.

I don’t know why,

It’s impossible to get out of life alive,

But I do know this,

Lately it’s a wonder,

If there’s anything left,

For which to survive.

I don’t know why,

Hearts are commonly drawn in red,

But I do know this,

It makes perfect sense,

Because any time they’ve gotten hurt – they’ve bled.

I don’t know why,

Wasted time seems to fly,

But I do know this,

What you must do next,

Will force your expression to wry.

I don’t know why,

The sun doesn’t shine at night,

But I do know this,

Missing its light,

Doesn’t make the dark,

Any less of a welcome sight.

I don’t know why,

Time can’t stand still,

But I do know this,

It would be a convenience to have it at the beck and call,

Of my own free will.

I don’t know why,

Fire is hot,

But I do know this,

It makes marshmallows,

Taste as they ought.

I don’t know why,

All religions believe themselves correct,

But I do know this,

It appears they all,

Need to be fact-checked.

Catastrophic Controversy

Hell is here,

But don’t let that get in the way,

Of living your life today,

Put your angst aside,

And get the fuck outside.

Hell is here,

That much closer to Doomsday,

And the Man Downstairs,

Is trying to take,

An early payday.

*************************

You won’t find no sugar-coatings here,

I say,

Fucking relax,

Because facts are facts,

Your time is your time,

It is predetermined,

By not your brain nor mine,

If it’s meant to nab you,

You can not halt it,

And if you’re meant to survive,

At the end you will still,

Be fucking ALIVE!

*************************

You must realize,

It’s coughing all around us,

Now we’re coated with its germs,

So expecting the worst,

From this curse,

Everyone’s common sense,

Has become paralyzed.

Hell is here,

Stupid souls,

Let it take control,

Rather than live and let live,

Blame is thrown at others,

Who just innocently go about their business,

And long after this is done,

They won’t think it’s fun,

When their targets,

Find it fucking impossible,

To forgive.

Hell is here,

What was alright,

Has become taboo,

At least to you,

But speak to another,

And you’re told it’s no thing,

Really,

The world is about to recover.

Hell is here,

Times are dark,

Days have vibes,

Like the witching hour,

Daunting and full,

Of the Devil’s power.

Hell is here,

It’s been a long time comin’

And would you look at that now?

Many who talk a big talk,

Are frantic and running.

Hell is here,

It takes just a sneeze,

To knock a once-badass,

To their fucking knees.

Hell is here,

And that black-clad bastard,

Is trying to shine,

So let’s not let him get away with tainting,

People and places divine.

Reality

Here in the real world,

It’s too busy for Christmas,

Too busy for the Claus’s,

Mister and Missus.

Out here in the real world,

There’s money to make,

The world for us revolves around work,

And there’s no time to take,

Holiday breaks.

Here it is,

February now,

And I know it’s way past time,

But here in the real world,

I’m just now finding a minute,

To put pen to paper,

For a Christmassy rhyme.

Sugar cookies never did,

Go into the oven,

No stockings were hung,

Or carols sung,

Here in the real world,

It’s not important to build traditions,

For we are all on a mission,

That holidays don’t seem to fit in.

Seasonal frippery,

And packages full of mystery,

Under a flashy tree,

Aren’t part of the real world,

Here we barely notice,

That these things have come to be regarded,

As a great importance.

Here in the real world,

We’re generally busy,

With no spare time to prepare,

A monstrous feast,

So we gladly give a miss,

To the customary gathering,

Where anyway there is always,

Too much blabbering.

Out there in your world,

Christmas is a big priority,

And you view those over here,

As some kind of freak minority,

With kiddies to raise,

And memories to be made,

Presents must be present,

From wall to wall,

So you buy out the whole mall,

But here in the real world,

We have other things that please us,

And it’s not feasible,

To deal with such fuss.

The World’s Wrong Turn

Ah!

Another Thanksgiving,

About to come to a close,

And it may leave you in awe,

That all I did was doze and watch shows.

I did not have a celebration,

Hey don’t worry though,

I’m suffering from neither,

Sadness or starvation.

The worst part it seems,

Of this once-revered holiday,

Is the way people fall prey,

To what’s known as Black Friday.

One minute they’re lazily,

Sitting around,

With friends and family,

All stuff their faces,

And name off the year’s blessings,

Then low and behold they race,

From place to place,

Completely losing any trace,

Of their earlier grace.

But I won’t be bothered,

With such a shopping slaughter,

It does not matter,

How good is an offer.

When the fuck did people’s views,

Become so skewed?

This is about the farthest,

From a celebration of harvest,

That the world could have moved.

When did Friday,

Start to begin on a Thursday?

And when did shopping,

Become paramount to turkey,

And popcorn popping?

It has become commercialized,

And so full of fucking lies,

No longer is it just the start,

To a time of giving,

And don’t kid yourself,

We’ve all played a part,

In the season’s right reasons leaving.