Emotional Pneumonia

I don’t always remember things very well. Short term memory is blast to hell, a mashugana kerfuffle. Now other memories, especially the bad ones, are well imprinted and vivid as shit. Lots of mundane things rush forth and occupy my mind. But the time of my father’s ill health is not crystal clear, side effects of depression and boozing it up maybe.

He had cancer, Lymphoma, some version of something type B. I sometimes forget what it’s called and the days of yore are hard to ascertain, but the feelings I had, or didn’t have rather, is there in the cranium. I felt sad and angry for sure. I tried to get time off my soul-sucking night draining job in security but the new shit shit fuck company wouldn’t allow it unless he was dying. What kind of system do we have where you can’t get time off for helping a sick parent?! I didn’t help enough anyway. Working all night and sleeping in the day was not conducive to sick watch, I didn’t even get his pills for him (your a bastard you bastard face). I was emotionally drained and weak and just… lost and angry for him and at myself because I still need him. Life, genetics and my own stupidity have given me a mess of instability. I am a hobby wobbly destitute funny man with wavering morals and kindness.

When I couldn’t get off work I was blowing up at the company on the phone. I was punching walls and screaming my lungs out at the admins, my friend was there to soothe me slightly. Good woman who took me for a song, gave her lots of money to maybe keep her house..? Oh, I had anger issues before. Misanthropic seething hate demon lashing out at odd intervals on unsuspecting white kids. I saw them all as privileged, entitled little shits who hadn’t face hard life and were so goddamn arrogant and sarcastic. Grrr I say. So fights with work, lost and alone at home, unable to comfort my family really, I had been slipping emotionally over the years, dying inside and getting numb; emotional pneumonia.

He got very weak, so many tests and retests and chemicals pumped into him. He’s a bit of a health nut, takes all kinds off “natural” things and supplements. His immune system is balls, can’t be helped much no matter how much kale you eat. He was tired, losing hair, the usual suspects. But I wasn’t really there for him like I should have been, like he was always there for me. Yeah he was absent in certain ways and didn’t teach me the things fathers are supposed to teach you, I guess, who knows how to be a father. Is a father a friend and teacher? model of behaviour? he is a good man I can say without a doubt. Where was I in that turmoil? When he was being treated the first time I was absent-minded. He was staying for a few days and lay in bed looking weak and older than I realized (I don’t always look at him enough to see how he’s aging, he thinks of me as his kid and he’s my dad, I don’t think enough about his age since he’s still active), just a tired old man fighting the sickness and foreboding darkness. I remember I was awkward with the hug, and everything else really. When I’m involved in the heated stuff and feelings game I sort of shut down and get cold, not all the time but I am not gooey inside anymore, life bitchslapped me and I consider the burn regularly. I have become the thing I hate.

Papa, abba, appa. Papi beat the boogeyman and came back swinging. He’s getting fit again, new diet, fancy naturopath doc. But I feel annoyed at myself for my lack of paternal affection. Maybe I have lingering resentment, pah, I know I do. Blame is a useless endeavour. It’s the same with the dog I had, Jake. I felt like I didn’t love him enough, didn’t do enough for him, to show I cared. My dad does so many things for his family, that’s a value he has, family is more important, more than pride I dunno, that’s his baggage and I ain’t no concierge. But I am a grower not a shower, I make amends eventually and strive to better myself and evolve my being. I battle my demons and try not to lash out at those close to me anymore. I make myself think of them more and actually do something instead of well wishes and glory daydreams. Though I should do more for him. He’s retired and lonely and I don’t talk to him enough. It can be annoying because he can be pedantic and wants to talk a lot with less listening, but that’s always how he was and I am becoming him in a certain way; I wish to express myself not dominate conversation. These blogs may help my personal foibles and need for unleashing brain farts and expel the loquacious urges. The sins of the father must be handled by the son, we owe him that much.

I have no clue what life would be when he’s gone. I dread being alone though I like it at the same time. Things just get too boring and stressy, my mind is an enemy in wooden horses. I am not afraid of death yet I don’t deal with death well. I feel saddened that the time for my parents will come and I think no one is ready for it no matter what age. Loss is a big number to dance to. I can’t cha cha for the life of me but I’ll swing away. Alas I must try, always try to do what is hard. If anything it’ll be less work in the future after you’ve made the dent, of course there’s no insurance once the damage is done. Life has no insurance. We trick ourselves to deal with the steady flow of horrorshow pressure tanks falling down on us but we know the score. Chaos and disarray are our card deck, unless your a fatalist, filthy fatalist scum! I am resolute in my grainy resolution. You keep your HD, I’m accepting my humble quality and picturing a quiet, contemplative life pastoral in its vision. If I cannot feel love anymore at least I can reach for peace of mind.



Safe inside safe inside
Don’t go out face to hide
Buzzards circling block to block
Vultures waiting to tear and mock
Freaky geeky fear-filled folk
Daggers ready now the cloak
Sneak away the doldrum hours
Shy away from rude glowers
Astonished looks with gaping mouths
Image burned in voices loud
Events all temporary
All stuck in twisted knife of memory
Cuddle up in cozy house
Fears and follies do but rouse
Sleeping giants nerves awaken
Take some blame target mistaken
Own my faults buy good graces
All us stars leave our traces
Human stain just necessary
Foible full no ordinary
Take the pride in being you
Temper thick anger subdue
Marathon maze runner
Slow and steady days of summer

Trade Masks

I’d like to be someone else, the other that’s pictured in my head. Life altogether, plans and goals with dash of hope. I tend to think everyone else has their shit straight, if shit is supposed to be straight. Why all this crooked hateration? Maybe queer is the new black, maybe being all right is for WASPy cockie cutter Pleasantvillers. I meet these young ones now or see them walking around all joe smiley and being so damn well-adjusted, it sickens me. Sickens me green. Oh envy of envies! nigh the fallen hand of fate strikes me bojangled. I want them though, be them, possess them, try on new suits to get away from my life cycle. If we have souls I’d rather switch or erase this one. No matter the accolades or inspiration, the sordid catchall, moneymaking, choose your destiny best sellers. Mantras for madmen. I relish their favors. Jealous eyes stab daggers at GPS targets. It all has to with forgiving yourself. That appears to be a brook half paddled. Some play imitation games, I’m in a blame game clanging cups against monopoly jail cells. Maybe me is the key.

False Modesty Falsely Faced

Orc daggers, wolfsbane
Treasure hunt, all terrain
Pirate do you savvy
Ricky Ticky Tavy
Superman Shomi
TV for the dull beat
Shower shows distract me
Netflix on the repeat
Digital relief please
Sordid show of manners
Personality deficit
Come to watch me blather
Self-conscious requisite
Methinks I so important
Sherlock Holmes delusions
Watson it’s my element
Detect my illusions
Spot the final puzzle piece
Solve the whole damage
Therapeutic artifice
Traumatic problem manage
Dwelling on the seen unseen
Quite the merry Mary
Stuck in contrary dream
Could I deal with ordinary
Addicted to the dramas
Daily pills intake
Whore of Big Pharma
Hooked on mistakes
And I got the feeling
Emotions drained like rice
At the pot I’m keeling
Puking out my vice
Maybe I’m a little girl
Maybe I’m disgraced
Get myself a whirlygirl
Join the human race


Pills pills pills, take em for my ills. Don’t mix with alcohol but pain needs the dull. Ravaging savage claws at my thumping chest, tear asunder beat em up side-scrolling chills. Feeling cagey all the time, suppressing bottle beast, undressing model me, medicating ex-trustee. Morning nighttime routine days span, dulling senses, healthy brain scan.
Prozac photostat, copy copy everyone else, model nouveau personality, sanity accessories.  Locks and lox rage prison. Dreidel dreidel dizzy spin. I don’t believe in anything. No god no story, empty narrative, pride declarative, some excuse to live.
Twisted mind and purple heart. Bitter swallows, hate-filled. Carve the chest rip it out. Manscaping melancholy. Sickness buried coffin deep, pull out wreckage, robot wires. Pull those heartstrings red red splatter, paint the walls with manifesto. Smear my campaign, love the bottle. Mixing treatment, nixing vices, bored as shit with healthy crisis.
Sleep with sordid, nuzzle macabre, only relate to hopeless morbid. See the gray, see the bigots, multiplying ignorance. Right wing coitus, brainwash kids. Hoping for alternatives.

Bad Timing

They said cries of attention, cries for help.
I murmur pleas of sanity and extreme escapism.
Empty chest syndrome.
Feeling broken glass window.
Explain my heart.
Rum tum tugger black oleander.
Death and disease circle the brain.
Buzz buzz little nappy gnats follow.
Husky husk drowning in musk.
Gay forte when femmes calling.
Drone torpedo at affection grabbing.
Lost kisses and paramours.
Lost character and highway.

Illuminated yellow lines juxtaposing vertigo confusion. Jumbling scenic route inversion. Catch a lie in the tumble; my life a lie, lips speaketh it. Deceiving myself and distrust the others. Melodramatic play without form or lines. Always acting. Making part out of parts, fragment fragalicious personality defect. Screaming brain screeching heart, arterial lump sagging low making squishy sounds. Apu man jewel. Silly Raj walking naked and clueless; lies, jokes, all laughs and snickers from pedestrian pedestrians. Ruminate on that, ruminant bad dreams chewing fretfully. Manic masticater chomping nervous lips, eating away face, sins of the skin.  Who loves you baby?


The too, the too too
The toodleoo tootoo
Too emotional, too stoic
Too sheltered, too wild
Too childish, too serious
Too maudlin, too furious
So many segments of the pie fighting for survival. Birds of prey pecking at pecking order for tasty treats. Apple humblebrag slathered with cinnamon sticks, toppers with the creme fraiche. Noxious fugues overtaking a taking blatherer wriggling under duress; crimson carpet rough stroke cheeks after the fall. Madam I’m Adam, done and said it all. Eve come a lately, scared the darling into disco panic. Maybe she’s playing the game too, playing straight till epiphany arises. New dawn new day, same shit anyway. Not stuck in a rut, parallel parked into it checking mirrors and shoulders for hidden enemies. Methinks ninjas about. Anxiety paranoia, paroxysm paroxiety.

Bloody lips pucker up from stress bites, eating the face away for spite, blink into nothingness Jean Paul appalled. Being thriving, jackals conniving, waiting at creaky doors for skin scraps, slovenly jaws hanging low like Betty Boop admirers. All against me, trust no one, too trust too scared.