Tuesday, August 19, 2014


I killed a man in my sleep last night.

strange albino maskface
cueball head coated in alabaster
greasepaint of a clown
skin white as the sharpened teeth
tearing through a bloodred slit of mouth
that wound the only color in his face

he was keeping me there
in the darkred room with no windows
holding me there in fear
terrorizing me
torturing me
delighting in it
consuming my fear like a drug
lusting after my pain
pleasuring himself with it

It had been a very bad day for me.

but then he brought Her in
so She could see what he had done
witness the mess he was making of me
brought Her in so I could see
the pain and the fear twisting Her beauty

but then he lost himself
in his lust and hunger for our degradation
he leaned down
face to "face"
pressed his sickening skin to mine
to whisper in my ear
all the things he was about to do to Her

He shouldn't have.

my hands were on his head
fists closed around ears
and pulled
thumbs went into eyes
and sank
and his bloodred mouth opened in glorious tortured screaming
my teeth clamped down
tearing into his bottom lip
with everything i had
i pushed and pulled and tore and ruined
eyeballs popped wet and cold like rotten grapes
ears gave in came off ripping strips of cheek revealing bone
lip tore down down down over chin and neck and red flowed free
free as i felt
free as i now was
as we now were

and i looked to Her
worried for us both
for so many things
and I saw Her
standing shocked
and there was no more fear in Her eyes
and there was no more love in Her smile
there was only the dumbfounded awe
of the newly awakened

all i felt
was justified

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Goodbye, Mork...

I had to add just this one more, for posterity.  It's just too perfect.


Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Carpe Diem, My Captain...

I really don't understand why the death of Robin Williams is hitting me so hard.  As shocked as I was to hear of his death, I was (and still remain) almost as shocked by the depth of my reaction to it.  I mean, sure I've felt saddened by the death of other celebrities before.  I remember being particularly saddened by the death of Heath Ledger, and more recently, Philip Seymour Hoffman.  But I've never been moved to tears like this before.  Celebrities are, by nature, almost fictional characters to us themselves; always removed from our actual lives by cameras and screens.  (I think that might have something to do with why it feels so strange whenever you see one in person - it's almost like TV or a movie coming to life!)  And since we don't really know them personally, there's only so much their death can move us.

Or so I thought.

I don't know why this one hurts so much.  Maybe it's because I grew up with him?  Because I've enjoyed him so much for my entire life?  I remember the rainbow Mork suspenders I had when I was five years old.  (My first cosplay, I guess?)  I remember seeing Popeye in the theaters with my parents just a few years later, and loving it completely.  I have the same memories of Good Morning, Vietnam.  And Hook.  (Oh, Peter Pan!  Why did you have to grow up?!)  I watched Mrs. Doubtfire and Jumanji over and over, just because of the way it delighted both the boy and the man in me at the same time.

And I've seen Dead Poets Society so many times I can practically quote the whole movie.  I don't know when I'll be able to watch that one again now.  At the very least, I know I'll never be able to see it the same way again.

Maybe it's because it was apparently a suicide?  It's possible.  Might be the connection to my own mother's death.  But I haven't reacted this way to other suicides or overdoses, so why this one?  Maybe it's just the fact that suicide adds that final crack of heartbreak to the story.  We didn't just lose one of the greats forever; we lost him to himself, to his own demons, to his own sickness.  It feels like there must've been something that could've saved him.  It feels like it didn't have to end this way.  And it touches us all because, let's face it, haven't each and every one of us been there, or somewhere close to it, at least once in our lives?  But if we could survive it, then why couldn't he?

I think it's true that there are few things more sad in this life, than a funny man, with a broken heart.  His mentor, Jonathan Winters, knew that only too well.  But he survived it anyways.  It's too bad he couldn't be there to help his friend, who clearly needed him more than anyone knew.

Like so, so many of us today, I feel the need to pour my heart out to the memory of this funny man, who's been there my whole life, in some vain and desperate attempt to figure out just what in the fuck it means to live without him now.

Below, I've collected some of my favorites that other people have been sharing today.  Some are funny, some are poignant, some are heart-breaking.  But they all made me feel something.  And that's helped, at least a little.

Here's hoping it can do the same for any of you.


Spontaneous tribute appearing at the bench in Boston, made famous from the scene in Good Will Hunting.


"Robin Williams is not dead, he is just waiting in the jungle until somebody rolls a 5 or 8." -testingonetwothreetesting, via imgur


"One of the funniest people alive died from sadness." - chili1179, via imgur


The first comment on this image, from NancyNevada, I think says it all:  "When Peter Pan dies, don't tell us to grow up."


This was reportedly posted to Disney's FB page this morning.  Heart-wrenching.



And finally, this is how I always want to remember him:


Your barbaric YAWP! was heard around the world, sir, and inspired MILLIONS.

And you will always be my captain.

Monday, June 30, 2014


try hard as we might
there was no
the scratching
coming from the walls
and there was no
to be had
with the things
crawling on our skin
but we laid there
all we had
each other
and my arm was around you
and your head was on my chest
as you softly slept
and in your dreams
the storm must've turned
the scratching of the things
finding its way through
the tempest inside
and i heard you
start to mewl
and whine
and cry out
from the dark place
down where your dreaming
had taken you
and so i raised my hand
from its home on your hip
and softly
smoothed your hair
away from your troubled
beautiful face
so near to mine
and i cupped your head gently
and i loved you
and you were quiet again and




Monday, June 23, 2014

Gone, Gone Beyond...

was the day
i turned it all off
all the noise
all the chatter
all the distractions
all the fear and fervent mysticism
all the pain and errant prophecy
all the useless superstitions
and endless contradictions
because i realized
i didn't need it
i didn't even want it
so that's when
i decided
i reached over
and out
and deliberately


and then there was Sky
and Sun
and the Grass-scented Wind
flowing all over my skin
sensuous as a silk gown
and it was then
i felt the Lift
i've been waiting so long
i'd forgotten it
what it was like
that merciful


like in an elevator
that falls too fast
and stops short
in that half-second
when you taste your heartsblood in your mouth
and your mind floats weightless in your skull
and you know the Secret of All Things
in the Lift

as i was then
as i was flying
doing a hundred-and-one through the soft-blue sky
the midsummer wind pulling the tears from my eyes
as i remembered Her face
all over again
for the ten-thousandth time

Thursday, June 12, 2014

I Have Sowed Need, And What Then I Reaped...

i was so afraid
so afraid of
not needing you
so unaware
that i was
loving from fear
so confused
thinking love
demanded need
too oblivious
to see
my desire
pulling you under

as soon as i
gave up
gave in
let go
needing you
i was suddenly


finally free to
see you
hear you
know you
your real you
because you
were finally free
of my weight
of my need

what i needed
what i really needed
after all and everything
is over and done
was to get out of the fucking way
and just be me
and let you be you
so we could meet each other
and fall
for the first time

Friday, May 16, 2014

My Love Is Stronger Than My Fear Of Death...

Out in the West Texas
    town of El Paso
I fell in love
    with a Mexican girl.
Night-time would find me
    in Rosa's cantina;
Music would play
    and Felina would whirl.

Blacker than night
    were the eyes of Felina,
Wicked and evil
    while casting a spell.
My love was deep
    for this Mexican maiden;
I was in love
    but in vain, I could tell.

One night a wild young cowboy came in,
Wild as the West Texas wind.
Dashing and daring,
A drink he was sharing
With wicked Felina,
The girl that I loved.

So in anger I
Challenged his right
    for the love of this maiden.
Down went his hand
    for the gun that he wore.
My challenge was answered
    in less than a heart-beat;
The handsome young stranger
    lay dead on the floor.

Just for a moment
    I stood there in silence,
Shocked by the foul evil
    deed I had done.
Many thoughts raced
    through my mind as I stood there;
I had but one chance
    and that was to run.

Out through the back door of Rosa's I ran,
Out where the horses were tied.
I caught a good one.
It looked like it could run.
Up on its back
And away I did ride,

Just as fast as I
Could from the West Texas
    town of El Paso
Out to the bad-lands
    of New Mexico.

Back in El Paso
    my life would be worthless.
Everything's gone in life;
    nothing is left.
It's been so long
    since I've seen the young maiden
My love is stronger
    than my fear of death.

I saddled up and away I did go,
Riding alone in the dark.
Maybe tomorrow
A bullet may find me.
Tonight nothing's worse than this
Pain in my heart.

And at last here I
Am on the hill
    overlooking El Paso;
I can see Rosa's
    cantina below.
My love is strong
    and it pushes me onward.
Down off the hill
    to Felina I go.

Off to my right
    I see five mounted cowboys;
Off to my left
    ride a dozen or more.
Shouting and shooting
    I can't let them catch me.
I have to make it
    to Rosa's back door.

Something is dreadfully wrong for I feel
A deep burning pain in my side.
Though I am trying
To stay in the saddle,
I'm getting weary,
Unable to ride.

But my love for
Felina is strong
    and I rise where I've fallen,
Though I am weary
    I can't stop to rest.
I see the white puff
    of smoke from the rifle.
I feel the bullet
    go deep in my chest.

From out of nowhere
    Felina has found me,
Kissing my cheek
    as she kneels by my side.
Cradled by two loving
    arms that I'll die for,
One little kiss
    and Felina,

          -"El Paso"
            Marty Robbins, Gunfighter Ballads & Trail Songs