Tuesday, June 21, 2011

"Long and steep is the road out of Hell."

So it was been a while since last I posted anything to this site... Or even thought about posting anything. Now, as I sit here, posting from my new apartment., I can't help but feel a sense of wonder. Life is a funny thing people. One thing I have learned is nothing new. "Long and steep is the road out of Hell."

I'm not quite there yet... But far enough along the road to finally be able to breath the fresh air of freedom again... Or at least to see the promise of that air on the ever awaiting Horizon.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

New Poem (posted by Mel)

The wind blows in my ethereal dawning.
Clouds roll back revealing the effervescent moon.
Orion, hard to port,
bowstring taut,
arrow poised to fire.
Aimed into the daunting oblivion of tomorrow.
A beacon of bravery and courage standing stalwart in the heavens.


Wednesday, April 15, 2009


It always baffles how the Universe turn and twists and takes you through at it's own pace. Things happen all according to some repetitive flow that does not wait for us to be ready for it. And yet if you pay attention you begin to expect things that to you are inevitable. Yet, you convince your self that is only fanciful thinking until it occurs. Then you are standing, or in my case sitting, baffled and beguiled by the whole thing. Relatively speaking this Universe and whatever it's eventual plan never ceases to amaze me in the smallest of ways.

"I know not too much to be threatening
But just enough to challenge EVERYTHING."



Sometimes I hate waking up. The dream world seems so much better to me than the real world. Of course it does right? All dreams are is your subconscious recycling all those emotions you don't deal with on a day to day basis. So when I dream of a blonde haired blue eyed little girl who once upon a time was my daughter... It is my subconscious refreshing itself for all the loss I will again inevitably feel the next day. And when I dream of a dark haired brown eyed girl playing with that blue eyed baby girl and loving me... It is my subconscious telling me to let go of the past. And if it not that than perhaps it is my mind or spirit or God or whatever telling me that one day I may have my cake and be able to eat it too..


Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Tired of the rollercoaster...

No one sees the tears I cry because rarely do I cry.
I hold it all in as they fall within me.
You think me heartless and uncaring.
I will admit to being some what narcissistic but never uncaring.
My life is a series of ups and downs that I ride throwing my hands in the air as if care free.
Quite the contrary.
I am a man broken by his own desire to please.
All the while my feelings go unnoticed and ignored until they explode in a fiery cataclysm of miss spoken pain.
How am I to rememdy this behavior which has become second nature.
My buddha nature long gone and invariably destroyed.
Always trying to mend fences I am better off never trying to rebuild.
Such is the nature of my madness.
So be it I say.
The imaginary gun held to my head.
The metaphorical knife dancing gleefully over my exposed heart.
But you look right through me, past me and never notice the tears I am crying for you.
And I never cry the tears that are meant for me.
I chose not to wallow in my self pity.
Instead I wallow in your contempt.
Content to be your left overs.
Only to be reheated when you are hungry for what I have to offer.
This is my life.
I am tired.


Friday, January 16, 2009

Friday's Madness.

Energy transferred mindlessly
A lull comes over the crowd
The hush of complacent conformity blankets freedom in subconscious marshall law
If I could set fire to your perverted illusions on Life, Love
And everything those two imply
The blaze would scorch Heaven itself.


I label myself a drunk so brazenly.
Denial has no place in me that I have not placed it directly for Heaven's Sake.
Of all the things I have done and still can do and still will there is little that holds any significance for me,
Save my words.
They are the jewel plucked from my ignorant downfall with open eyes, mind and soul and a heart that is so terribly scarred it looks no longer for love.
Instead a place to comfortably hide from the all too rough hands of it's eventual unfolding catastrophe.
To admit my pain is to be rid of it.
And I am not ready to be rid of it.
I relish and cherish the tormented wisdom it brings me in the long cold dark lonely hours of the night as I toss and turn in my solitary place of slumber.
So, in closing, yes...
I am a drunk.
Self professed.
And yet with my addiction comes these words and these trifles of wisdom that trickle down my cheek with every tear I refuse to shed.
So be it.
Such is my chosen plight.
Why have I chosen this path you may or may not ask...
Yet I will tell you regardless of your inquiry.
And my answer may and probably will change over time.
But for now, this will suffice.
Because my pain and my sorrow are the only thing I have that is real and reveals to me the kind of truth that I can feel whole-heartedly.
Take it for what you will.
I do.


Thursday, January 15, 2009

First post of '09.

Here is a colletion of madness I have written since the beginning of this year...

First, I must give a little background. I started out the new year with Absinthe. YUMMY!!! Me thinky me likey a lot... It tastes a little like Oozo, which is a Greek black licorice tasting intoxicating liquer and maybe a little like Jagermeister. Not for the faint of heart. Now there is a process to this maddeningly intoxicating drink which was outlawed in the U.S. up until recent years.
Step 1: Place a spoon over a serving glass with a sugar cube rested securely in said spoon.
Step 2: Pour shot of Absinthe over sugar cube and into glass.
Step 3: Light sugar cube on fire(It will burn, careful not to singe fingers).
Step 4: Slowly pour water(Or Opium if you have liquid opium available, we didn't, tear)over sugar cube until flame is extinquished.
Step 5: Drink fast.

This is what followed after two shots of Asbinthe.

We shall affectionately call this next passage the Absinthe Diaries.

Let the madness intervene
It's not so maddening to me
Leave my requiem in scattered verse and broken sentences
As I succumb to the esoteric dance within me
Loss of form
A shape shifter
With a line for every occasion
Appropriately fitting and elaborately inconvenient
To your version of the truth
My truth is not exclusive
In that no truth is excluded
Mine is an adaptive all encompassing truth searching for direction
Mind, body, soul
Numbers, stars, faith
It is what it is.
Vini, vidi, vici.
I came, I saw, I conquered.

I rediscovered my trip
More than in one sense
I found a part of my Self
Long missing
Awaiting me patiently
In moderation
My excessive behavior
Finally waining
My decado trifecta
Fast approaching
Holy Hell.

I find myself arguing
With My Self
Have we ventured too far
Into the opposite spectrum
To find peace in any conventional sense?
Now the world itself seems tainted
Flip the pros and cons
Be pro-ventional
Or provential if you will.

A word that has sadly lost it's meaning
No one believes any longer
While still we lie
Clawing and scratching at the crumbs of truth
After wading through the shit storm of ideals force fed us by hollywood and washington and thier ilk
Belief is easy
Simple and mindless once you forego the mind
Not lose it
Go beyond it
Further into Self
Until Oneness is Real-Eyes'd.

-I know not too much to be threatening.
But just enough to challenge EVERYTHING.

Lanny C. Warhurst Jr.