Archive for the ‘childhood’ Category

A clear memory I have
I’m in a bathroom
As a child
I think, when I am an adult
I will buy all the toys I want

Now I feel
That because I thought this
It can never happen
Yet I don’t forgive
The wishes I made as a child

Never forgive children
They truly are monstrous
They don’t know any better
Is an excuse people like to use
So they can claim that they do

I know more now
But not better
I know the path from pain to bitterness
Where the petulant child
Kicks at the gravel

So the future turned out to suck
Nobody’s flying any cars-
I got no floating skateboard
No silver clothes or colony on mars-

I guess we got the video phone
But who really cares-
So I can see your face
But you ain’t got no implants or purple hair-

I’m just a sci-fi obsessed fan
You can hear me future pining-
Cause since the internet hit
Culture’s being stuck in the nineteen nineties-

All our music sounds the same
Auto-tuned gangster pop shit-
The electronic craze has made
The youth soulless and killed the mosh pit-

The economy is weak
No bullet trains for North America-
Concentrated wealth corruption
Coke-head Wall Street ain’t sharing it-

And the technocrats
Just find new ways into our heads-
3-D D-Box cinema propaganda
Social networks and anti-depressants-

I wish I could live in the future
Depicted in an eighties film-
New Hollywood ain’t looking so good
All the futures they show so grim-

I guess most people are satisfied
With the power of their cellphones-
They don’t have the same nightmares I have
Of being chased by a drone-

SO WAKE ME UP
WHEN I’M MARTY MCFLY
WHEN THE NEW CORVETTES FILL THE SKY
WHEN I CAN MAKE A GIRL
WITH MY HOME COMPUTER
SO WE CAN VACATION ON MARS OR THE MOON

SO WAKE ME UP
WHEN THERE’S REPLICATORS
WHEN HUMANITY UNITES TO FIGHT
THE SPACE INVADERS
WHEN I CAN USE MY MIND TO BEND A SPOON
AND THEY’VE BUILT AN ELEVATOR
TO THE MOON

So the future didn’t quite turn out
As I thought as a kid-
Where’s all the robots doing the labor
Fighting for their right to exist?-

Why does is seem like
Nothing’s really going on-
No more people on the moon
Or VR sims like in that movie Tron-

What edge did we loose?
Was it the cold war ending?-
Cause we got no one to race with
Did we just stop pretending?-

Cause we used to think
Our progress was damn near unstoppable-
That things are gonna look like Blade Runner
In five years, that is improbable-

One Hundred Heroes Blog Day

Posted: March 14, 2013 in childhood, heroes
Tags: ,

If we upload the cloud…

WTF happens to the fame sparkle?

Does the spotlight dim?

Or does the lost son build a bigger mech camp?

Gather at a drop point,

or stay headphones and sharpie scrap your bedroom?

Conquer the bored Kingdom!

Become the avatar admiral.

I leave a wake of superhero backpacks,

My tin zombie lunch bag.

How did the heroes get away?

Aren’t our eyes tight enough to keep them in!

How can tear pillows stay fluffy,

Plastics treasures, piles and bins,

One single finger,

Ends up in the mouth…

Kill the germ giants!

 

 

Mice and Dragons

Posted: February 27, 2013 in childhood, madness, urban
Tags: , ,

PART 1 : New Madness Metaphors…

The mice nibble at your feet,

The mech dragon of modernity roars,

and bites off your savvy little head.

But you grow another one.

You freakout and carry on.

Ignore ambulance sirens,

and stop answering your phone.

Cycle of madness,

repeats itself,

like brain seasons.

Today it’s a drug,

tomorrow it’s a single word.

The things in this world,

that can set you off,

are more and more.

So now you tread carefully,

on the thin ice of urban living.

 

PART 2 : Trauma Repression Tests…

Does the full bus disturb you?

Are the people too close?

Too loud?

Too obnoxious?

Can you find new friends anymore?

Or are those days passed?

Will anybody find a way into your bed?

Into an intimate moment?

Because you keep texting the same people…

The mice nibble off your time…

Days bleed into themselves,

Weeks pass by in flashes,

of coffee and chance…

A pattern never emerges that you can graph,

because you can hardly hold a pen anymore.

 

PART 3 :  Ellipses into the Sunset

What are nerves, you wonder…

Hmmm….

What are the dark recesses of a mind?

How does trauma stay hidden?

So go watch every movie,

that was a catalyst for fear in your youth.

And you find each film,

seemed to be tailored to engineer,

your future emotional and nervous state…

With no clear objectives,

or plot.

Just a mess of images,

terrifying,

and hapless heroes,

passing tests of nonsense…

The Coded Bus Conversation

Posted: January 7, 2013 in childhood, dreams, drugs, urban

The first boys wears faded jeans and a red sweater. The sleeves are all chewed up, as if he played with his dog all day. We’ll call him Chip.

Chip’s friend was a lithe, handsome girl named Apathena. She had her fast food uniform on and smelled like fried food. I knew her name cause I’d been stalking her since tenth grade.

Chip – Come Apa. The football game will only take ten minutes, twelve tops.

Anathena – Its forbidden. Gods and cheerleaders don’t mix.

Chip – They mix all too well, lovely flower.

Chip reached his arm around her. I cringed with hatred. Then I saw his fingers reach into her pocket and take out a packet. It wasn’t a condom, as I first thought. It was a red baggie. Drugs.

Then I realized they were talking in code the whole time. I must analyze this. I’ll show the others on BatmanOnlineNerdCom.com and they figure it out in ten minutes. Let’s see. I started writing down what they said.

Anathena- Chip, feed your own snakes. I hate football. Only if you give me a back rub.

Chip- Sorry, only got time for a finger.

Anathena – Aah. Flick off, perv.

Anathena then stood up and stood to wait for the next bus stop. I’ll pulled the wired for a stop. I hoped she didn’t see me look at her. Once her friend caught me masturbating at her pool birthday party, but she thought it was over her so she gave me a blowjob.

She got off and I followed her down town to Abbertsons University For Angels. I couldn’t go in as it was the all girl school version of Saint Abbertsons Military College. So I watched her till she was out of site and then went to my dorm.

I wonder what the code was about.

baby CLOSET poking PUNCH

Posted: December 7, 2011 in childhood

trap door travesty

magically uncontainable

spooning old toys

old stuffy animals

that smell like when masturbation

used to smell like adventure

in a danky closet

pretending to be abducted by aliens

really

it’s just your sister and her friends

cause its her birthday party

and they played spin the bottle

without any boys

so you hide

with his button eyes rubbing your penis

poor teddy

teddy with an eye

and Madonna songs

and bra straps

and the film “Pretty in Pink”

poking a suckling

my brother is a troll doll

I make a loincloth out of your security blanket

I jingle rim job your coin collection

you’re missing a 1975 nickle by the way

(also I always wondered about that toy boat

we played with when we took baths together

because we were poor)