-Mourning Glory-

The Futurist Movement

2006-05-19T12:43:36Z

I first learned of the Futurist movements when I found the background I use for the livejournal where I publish my writing. The image contained a quote which I instantly fell in love with, "Regard all art critics as useless and dangerous." I felt like any movement in art that held with that kind of philosophy had to be for me. But as I've been reading up on the futurist movement, both in poetry and art, I find myself conflicted. As it turns out, the futurist movements originated in Italy around the time of the 2nd World War, and many of their ideals and beliefs were Fascist in nature. They espoused a firm belief that science, technology, and industrial advances were the key to a bright and gleaming world of tomorrow. They believed that war was the great cleanser of the earth and that violence was something to be revered. They also were blatantly, overtly misogynistic. These are all ideas I can't hold with.

Yet in the literature I've been reading, there is this overtone of... something... that I can't help but love. They believed in the fire of youth, that the old ways of thinking and the constrictions that came with them were something that needed to be wiped away. The futurist poets, especially, believed that their art should be a confrontation factor. They wanted their poetry to be regarded as renegade, reflecting a separation between them and what the world considered normal. They felt that poetry should be used to indict what they saw as corruption and bring about a radical change in the system. They were lauding the fascist system, mind you, but what they believed poetry and literature should be is something I have to agree with.

Each of the futurist movements had a few luminaries who wrote for the movements "manifestos," a testament to their link with fascism and right-wing philosophies. Much like the hard-line political parties coming to power in those days, the futurists wanted to declare themselves to the world and let it be known what the movement was trying to achieve. I can't imagine what it must have felt like to be counted among their numbers in their day. How exhilarating must it have been to feel like you were part of a true revolutionary movement in art, philosophy, and way of thinking? Even though the social ideals they espoused were some of history's most reviled, I have to admit that I kind of feel jealous of them for having been part of such a movement.

I've been waiting for years for a new American Revolution, a wave of stubborn individuality and an absolute refusal to give up one iota of our personal freedom. I wish people would wake up and realize that they are cogs in a great consumer machine, one that is fueled by government, corporations, the media, and elitism. There is a great distraction taking place. A good example of what I'm talking about is the fact that people actually cared about whether or not Nick and Jessica were splitting up. Maybe these were things that the nation could focus on while recovering from the awesome reality that was 9/11, but in my opinion, those were times when we should have had an unwavering eye of criticism on Washington. The things that they got away with in the first year after the terrorist attacks are reprehensible. The so-called "Patriot Act" was one of the most frightening pieces of legislation ever passed, but they passed it. I could go on about the atrocities being carried out as a result of our governments love affair with corporate America, but that would take too much space. And besides, I'm sure the reader has a pretty firm grasp on the kinds of things I'm referring to.

The futurist movement was borne of a failed ideology, but they were right on in the ideas they had about bringing the movement to the forefront. There must be a new way of thinking in the United States. There must be a change in people's attitudes and a new dialog. People need to realize that we must change a great many things in order to ensure that our planet will be here for the next generations. We must not accept the way things are now, we have to get angry enough to stand up and collectively let those in power know we will not allow ourselves to be herded like sheep or told that things are a certain way, when we know them to be something else. But before that can happen, the people have to be made to see the condition the world is in for what it really is. This is where art comes in.

Art is the great instigator. Throughout history and especially in the last century, artistic expressions have been the catalyst for great changes in society. Writers, musicians, film makers, and any other kind of artist have always been on the frontlines during these turbulent times of change. Right now, bit by bit, people are seeing that there is something wrong and are beginning to ask questions. Why are things the way they are? What happened? Who is responsible? Art, in all its forms, has the power to stimulate and encourage this, and nudge people closer to action. We must not only continue this, but must take it further and to a more extreme level. We need to be the new Futurist Movement, we need to write our own manifesto and deliver it to the power structure collectively. I believe that we can change our world. We just have to decide to do it.</lj>

War

2006-04-12T21:02:11Z

I don't agree with the Iraq war, or any war for that matter. But something occured to me, and I know this isn't going to be a popular opinion, but fuck it, cause I don't care too much what you think about it. here goes...

If we're gonna have a war, let's have a fucking WAR. I'm sick of all this so-called "more humane" techno-babble-smart-bomb-press-a-button-from-a-thousand-miles-away-and-blow-some-people-to-shit nonsense. Let's take away ANYTHING that explodes or is shot from a gun, and let's get back to the way the shit oughta be. Put 10,000 troops on each side, give 'em battle axes, swords, catapults, flaming arrows, boiling oil and horses, and let's have a fucking FIGHT.

Why? Well, I'll tell ya. Maybe if we still fought wars like this, people would see the horror of it more clearly. We don't have to see a mangled body in our world. We *try* to hit empty buildings, only government and strategic targets, blah blah, and those of us sitting over here at home don't have to confront ANYTHING having to do with what happens to people as a result of our leaders greed and imperical ambitions. They clear the media out until they can hide the 5 year old girl with the burned off face behind a tank and keep her out of our living rooms during suppertime on the 6 o' clock news. We should HAVE to see it. We should HAVE to deal with it, so we vote these fucking pigs out of office. Or revolt, which is certainly my preference. I'm talking a full on fucking coup de tat.

Plus, it's just more honorable. Seriously. If you advocate war, then why not get down there with a mace or a 100-pound battle hammer and smash in a skull or two? "We're more evolved than that!!!" No, really, you're just a chicken shit. You can smoke a motherfucker from 100 miles off the coast with a guided cruise missile. Shit, what honest coward wouldn't take that option? Lord knows if you had to actually face your enemy you might get your own skull cleaved. Can't take that chance. But still, we're gonna go picking fights with EVERYBODY because we can do it without ACTUALLY having to fight anybody. Well I say no more. We need to make it Braveheart-style gory again. That's the only way to stop war for good.

I know, I know. In Baghdad right now there are thousands of our troops walking around putting their lives on the line every day. They're the best of the best. But should they have to be there? Should America's sons be dying? Is this a cause worthy of that sacrifice? No. It's not about preserving freedom. It's not about spreading democracy and promoting peaceful resolution to conflicts. Is it about oil? Maybe. Fat lot of good it's done at $2.75 a gallon, though. But that's another can of worms.

What is it about then, exactly? Preventing Saddam Hussein from being the great threat of the our time? Please. That guy was about as much of a threat to us in America as a pyromaniac in an all steel building. He was the badly behaved remedial student of world leaders. I agree he had to go, but the United States has a bunch of sneaky motherfuckers called the special forces that have gone in and put a spanking on not just a few dictators who got too big for their britches. Noriyega? Anyone else remember that shit? They snuck in and had a hooker knock on his door. He thought he was gonna get some naughty time and ended up with a combat boot on his throat and a bunch of M-16's in his face. You're trying to tell me our commandos aren't good enough to have done that with Saddam and his bunch? I ain't buying it.

The point is, this war is senseless, both in cause and in execution. Thousands of young people are in a living Hell right now that they never needed to visit. Whatever noble reasons we've gone to war for in the past are a moot point when held up to the "causes" we've fought for in the last 40 years. Maybe, just maybe, if war were as unavoidably ugly as hundreds of years ago, every country would think twice before they jumped in the fire. Maybe we'd have seen by now that precious lives just aren't worth it. Maybe we'd have learned to work out our disputes with compromise, with cooperation, with decency. Maybe if war had never evolved any farther than the medieval way, it simply wouldn't exist anymore. And THAT is a cause that is truly worth fighting for.</lj>

The Frenzy Inside (Born of Betrayal)

2006-04-12T14:49:13Z

It's dark in here and I want out now / but the door is locked and no one has a key / I'm not even me / I'm a disease / I want to make someone fucking bleed / I want to see smoke rising from the ashes of the waste I've laid to the entire fucking planet / I've fucking HAD IT - up to here / I know no more fear because I've nothing left to lose, you want some fucking proof? / I don't want to think, don't want to feel, don't want anything real ever again / just wanna get so far out of my head that anyone with half a brain would swear I was dead / I want to shiver, slither, shove it up in her / Want to lick the blood from her breast and the sweat from her brow / Want sex and violence right fucking now / Something just snapped in my brain and everything changed / I want to lay the poet to rest, let the criminal come to life and do his wicked best / Want a hail of bullets to be my last sight / Want to look into the eyes of a victim as they die / As I plunge a blade into the throat of an angel and let my true nature show / I want to hear the gurgle and the gasp as their life just fucking withers / I'M A REBORN FUCKING KILLER / Every 6 seconds I shake with a violence / I shudder / Bought on by the utter emptiness that's taken over / I may have been beaten / I may have been murdered / But in death I'll take every urge further / Because I'm free now that I'm dead / I'M FUCKING SICK IN THE HEAD / You'd do well to just stay away, or you'll lose the right to say you never looked death in the face / Death that was betrayed by love, twice over, betrayed by God even more / FUCK THE FATES, I'll follow the Furies / My hate is a cause for worry / I've got a machine gun mind and an atomic mouth to tell the story / And this will be my glory - to seethe, to bleed, to believe in nothing / To walk the dead's path with devils accompanying / With the seeds of hate sown / The reckoning day is the reaping / And when the harvest comes / No enemy is above the reaving / This is born of betrayal...

Never Take Me Alive

2006-04-12T14:11:26Z

They'll never take me
Never, ever take me alive
Till the day I die
I will live and breathe this life
Black around my eyes,
Never ending nights
I am alive
And electric
And it's no surprise
Well respected
Fire forever
Till the day I die.

Still You Pray

2006-03-29T22:38:12Z

The clock turns...
On the 6th year since you left the world
I've no flower to lay
On your modest grave
But I'll rest my hand there
Brush the snow away
And place memories
Like a fresh cut bouquet
And with the cold sunshine on my face
A tear will make it's way
To your name, I can't hide...
And I'll feel your ghost wrap around me again
And I'll hear you praying from the other side
You'll pray...
"Bless the child
Elohim, keep his heart alive
El-Shaddai..
If only his wings could allow him to fly
Oh, Yaveh...
Glory go down deep inside him today
my Lord, my Lord, my Lord...
Let my son be saved"
Still you pray...

Deception, Part II (Murder Was Her Name)

2005-12-30T23:57:27Z

Starlight... starbright
I'd make a wish
But there aren't any stars out tonight
Wish I may
Wish I might
Make a wish to finish this tonight
I'm so tired...
But I'm not going to sleep
Until it's light

JUST WALK AWAY
And don't ever look back
Forget my name
And my face
And every song that I sang when you asked
As the shadow falls
I'll rebuild every wall
Every brick I use
A memory of you
And every lie you told...
And each part of me
That you'll never hold
AGAIN

A bitter goodbye
I lower my eyes
The sun just fell out of the sky
(What was her name?)

Such a shame
To end such a day
This way
Murder was her name

Remember when
We stole every star?
The night we met...
Every breath
Every love ever made, we made ours
Now the heart is hard
And the room is dark
Every piece of us
Is just scattered dust
And fragments on the ground
All pieces of me
Never to be found
AGAIN

A bitter goodbye
I lower my eyes
The sun just fell out of the sky
(What was her name?)

Such a shame
To end such a day
This way
Murder was her name

Too many bends in the road
Made it too hard to see where this would go
But everyone knows
You cant't see your way to a runaway soul
Too much of giving myself
Made it too hard to just cry out for help
And now every step
Tells
Of just how hard I fell

A bitter goodbye
I lower my eyes
The sun just fell out of the sky
(What was her name?)

Such a shame
To end such a day
This way
Murder was her name

To Dearly Remembered Friends

2005-12-30T23:56:22Z

We fell like stars didn't we?
Streaking across the sky at dusk
Etching ourselves into a memory
Held dear by some witness
To the beauty of burning out
and falling... falling... tumbling,
Over and about
You and I, we will be remembered...
Those were our names tagged on that wall
And under that bridge where the snow glistens
This far-off afternoon
We talk of a time
When we took the concrete
And made it into a merry-go-round
So boldened and noble, so noticed
By the gods of mirth and chaos
That they made us into stars
And pinned us up
Among the fabric that holds those tiny lights
In the full moon light of the tripped-out sky
And said
"Fall... and remember."

The Eve of Emanuel

2005-12-30T23:55:36Z

It's the eve of Emanuel
And we dropped a bomb on your head
Who said "Goodwill toward men?"
We only meant toward those men
Who fall in line
And peace on Earth?
Who were you praying to?
WE are your gods
Your Alpha
And more importantly, your Omega
The Stars and Stripes
Are the new crucifix
And the star of Bethlehem
Is just a flashpoint in the new order
Flashpoint of the bomb we sent
On the eve of Emanuel
Merry Christmas, motherfucker.

This Way To The Light

2005-09-06T23:46:17Z

We burned so bright
That firelit night
Skin to skin, so much within
This way to the light...
This way to the light.

We stayed for days
We knew the way
Breath to ear, without a fear
This way to the light...
This way to the light

You remember it too
... I know you do.
Pushed down inside, yet it refuses to die
This way to the light...
This way to the light.

These poisoned words
I know we've both heard
Serve to sway the heart, back into the dark
This way to the light...
This way to the light.

My hand is there
My soul is bared
Whatever it takes, before the dawn breaks
This way to the light...
This way to the light.

Just one more chance
Let's dance this dance
The brightest day, don't throw it away
This way to the light...
This way to the light.

Touch Electric

2005-09-06T20:18:18Z

My heart still starts to beat faster
with just one thought of you
and I know yours does too
with every thought of the shock I send through
Body, heart and soul
...you know...
that this is what you want
Cause you know I touch electric
And you know my love is endless
you know your body...
and you know I know it too.
You know I make you breathe harder
than any other could, ever
You know I make your heart stop
Every time you look at me
And you know you do the same...
You can remove me from your sight
But in the middle of a lonely night,
when only I can meet your needs
You know any other would only be a bore...
So come back to me and take what's yours.

To Rest She Goes (for kelli.)

2005-07-17T18:09:28Z

Somehow beautiful
She let fall flowers of blood
Even when she was black and blue
Even when the bruises weren't always on the outside
They never healed
They never faded
She drew me
More than once
She threw me
coffee beans
I just thought of her the other day.
She told me once
"I know I'm going to die
Of some horrid thing
Of some disease
That you should be getting
...smoker."
She never let me go decaffinated.
She never let me go hungry.
If only she had known earlier
Such a short lived fight...
To rest now she goes
And I hope it's a peaceful one
In a clear, starry sky
Where all her self-depreciation
Floats away on Angel's wings
Like an angel's dreams...
To rest she goes.

The last time I talked to her, her cancer was in remission. That was in March. I haven't talked to her since. I just found out she passed away this last week. God, I remember how much pride she took in not smoking, not drinking, not doing drugs, I mean she barely even took in caffiene. She always said. "I know I'm going to die of cancer, even though I don't smoke." I can't believe she was right.

I just wish I could have talked to her. Let her know that I was still thinking about her and hoping she got through this ok.

How did this even happen? How did she go from something like a 80% survival chance, with her cancer in remission only 2 weeks after she was diagnosed, to passing away 3 months later??

God, she was such a good friend to me. Totally insane and obsessed. But selfless and with a heart the size of the ocean. I can't even tell you how much I'm gonna miss her.

Why??!!

"To The Cutter"

2005-06-22T01:12:58Z

In your silent, sorry solitude
You make payment to your
Fickle, feeble deity of folly
And you call that sacrifice?
I name you COWARD.
"Oh, I can't handle the pain
"These cuts will take it all away"
You make me sick to my stomach I say.
Languishing lost love
As a pool of blood
Collects
In the space between pristine skin
And damned, damaged flesh
Does that scar wear like a badge?
Can that space contain all your secrets?
You lie in state, waiting to be saved
ANTE THE FUCK UP AND GET ON WITH IT.
Pain is a process, and to rush the protocol,
To protect yourself from taking the lesson
LIKE A MAN
Is to run from the Becoming.
But you can go on ahead
And lie there in your bed
At your pretend, pre-planned wake
Like the corpse you are,
You fucking fake.

time

2005-02-08T19:10:27Z

Slow it down, just a bit please
Things are going away much too fast for me
Just let me taste of this fire
A little while longer
Let the flame of desire
Burn a bit stronger
Let me find what I've been searching for soon
Before life takes its toll and my fuel is consumed
The more it goes by
The faster it dies
And I'm just not ready
Not just yet...
Not till I can say
"I'll have no regrets"
Let my engine burn down this highway
another day,
Or two, or many more than that
Time's moving too fast
Let me look forward, not behind
Let me keep a hand on beauty
While the other hand steers
Just let me keep moving...
Let me keep moving.

a word on growth

2005-02-07T18:19:14Z

I've been writing (or attempting to write) poetry and songs and such since I was like 12 years old. When I started this journal, which was only like a year or so ago, I was still a baby in terms of poetic ability. I've always known I had talent and a way with words, but looking back over this little trifle of a record of my work... I see serious growth within the past 6-12 months.

I wrote about this in my other journal too, as it applies to my guitar playing... it's reached points I never thought were possible over the past couple of years, and again, especially over the past few months. Part of that has to be attributed to my recent roommate Justin, who is an amazing guitarist. We pushed each other to new heights. He made me play all this crazy fucking death metal which really helped me hone the technical aspects of my playing, and I think I opened him up to widening his musical vocabulary, and the results for both of us were astounding.

But I think that the growth of my writing, my guitar playing, and my creativity in general is at its root, something that is coming from inside me. I wish I knew what was happening within me that is releasing this flood of artistic...-ness? Whatever. When I think back over the past 12 or 13 years, back to when I first realized that I wanted more than anything to express what was inside of me, I remember struggling so hard to create something good and failing miserably 85% of the time. But now, it all just flows out of me. It's like I finally found the frequency that my muse has been trying to talk to me on. It's been all static and fuzz with the occasional bit of clarity up until now. Or maybe I figured out which direction to point my antennae, as it were. I don't know. I do know this... I treasure these gifts that I was given. Music and writing are like air and water to me. I can't believe that for a few years there, I hardly touched a guitar and never got more creative with a pen than writing fucking radio ads. And when I think about the reason that I gave them up? FUCK THAT. I will never, not for ANYONE, give this up again.</lj>

apart from the flock (questions asked in prideful anger before an unanswering god)

2005-02-07T07:14:48Z

Where did you go?
Or rather, where did I?
When was the sabotage planned?
What happened while I wasn't looking?
They told me
You told me
"I am always with you"
That I
Was of the flock
of a faithful shepherd.
But would not a shepherd
more actively seek
To recover one of his wandering sheep?
But then again,
I suppose a fisher of men
would not jump into turbulent waters
To reclaim a bite
that had wriggled off of the hook.
You see they showed me this book
And said "Here, have a look...
Salvation lies within."
It told me all things came from you
But if that's true
Why does it say you are not the author of evil?
They taught me
That you would never give me more than I could handle.
But this personal epic battle
Has been raging for too many years
This sheep has shed too many tears.
And now that sheep is back at the fence
Part of it dying to make amends
The other part still counted among Evil's friends,
And just plain likes it here.

Sword or Pen

2005-02-03T23:53:56Z

Choose a weapon
And let it be said
Choose like a soldier
For we are all dead

Or choose like a poet
For we brim with life
In the quiet stagnation
Can such a thing be right?

It could be argued
That in spite of our curse
We're endowed to create
Given to prose and to verse

It could also be posed
With just as much truth
That our nature is violence
Untamed and uncouth

So do we choose to create
Or go the way of the gun?
Do we enter the fray,
or at the fight turn and run?

As for me, I must say
That both hands can hold
So it only makes sense
That I will choose both.

Ghost City

2005-02-03T23:43:02Z

You're still a shot of poison, you're still death on wheels
you're still a dangerous toxin, but I still have nerves of steel.
I will escape you again.
Your grasp of skeletal fingers
with methamphetamine nails
can't puncture my skin anymore
I've been scarred too heavily
and even you aren't strong enough
to pierce this thickened flesh
The nights back me like bricks
I am stronger than death
I am more powerful than pain
I will steal away
at some near hour, back into life
Whether you like it or not
You ghost
You shell
You shadow of a city
You have my pity
But you will not have my pride.

Count the raindrops

2004-09-09T15:35:17Z

"Count the raindrops," she said
More brutal than that but you get the gyst
"Count the raindrops, you're dead"
Can you count the murders that spring from the mist?

What I couldn't overcome was my weakness
That weakness that makes me so sick inside
And helps me to treat a flower such as this
With the kind of indifference you save for the side

So she said
"Count the raindrops that fall"
"And count the days that I spent alone"
"Count the raindrops, count them all"
"And maybe you'll see why this sorrow's your own"

And if I'm sorry could save the end of the story
I'd gladly let those words slip from my tongue
But I've already tainted the onset of glory
And you can't stop the eventual death of the sun

So I say

I'll count the raindrops today
And one by one add the wrongs that I've done
I'll count the raindrops, I say
And take full brunt of the pain of that sum

Because in the end we are all victims
Of our own actions for right or for wrong
And when the rain makes that terrible rhythm
I'll know it was my doing that penned this sad song

And I'll count the raindrops again

Utility Midget

2004-08-25T12:16:37Z

I think we all need a utility midget
Our own personal little friend
Not one that frowns or one that fidgets
Just a nice little guy or gal to help us out when
We need an extra hand in the kitchen
Or a temporary hat rack on the porch
I think a utility midget would be quite bitchin'
But if a midget heard me say so I might get attacked with a torch.

4 a.m. faces

2004-08-25T12:10:57Z

These are the lost
scraping for dignity on a stock floor
looking for matches to make a fire
in the half light of the graveyard shift
The term "P.O.S." has taken a dual meaning
"P.O.S. Associate"
Point of sale, or Piece of shit?
Associate?
I think the word police need to be fucking shot.
Just call me what I am
Gum on the bottom of your corporate shoe
The rent, the light bill and the phone are all past due
So I'm sticking around because I have to
With maybe a shred of hope that clinging here
to the only sole you have
Might actually get me somewhere

Tender is the walk

2004-07-12T03:01:36Z

Tender is the walk
So as not to strain the heart
tip toe
tip toe
Don't wake the sleeping angel
Just play your part
so cold
Too cold to take comfort in the stars
Or in who you are, or even who you aren't
How far?
How far?
leaps and bounds from the start
but still wounded
So tender is the walk
so as not to strain the heart

Opened Chrysalis

2004-07-12T03:00:20Z

Soft-skinned and new
Blinking at the light
And adjusting my sight
The whole world looks renewed
Shedding the skin riddled with pain
Hasn't been easy, but has not been in vain
For even in the rebirth of a soul,
Strength is not impossible

A Few Moments at the Cemetary

2004-06-02T04:09:55Z

Here is
My father's grave
Outstretched hands
I cannot stay
Here is
The final resting place
Of the man I never became
And here is
My mother's grave
Outstretched arms
She couldn't stay
Here is
The final resting place
Of the two brightest lights to ever shine on my face

-untitled-

2004-05-16T18:38:08Z

THIS is a warning... the longer the children stay silenced, the farther the damage goes... how far, we'll never know, until its too late for our story and the book must be closed... So plant your feet like rock and refuse! REFUSE! Refuse to be moved! Refuse to be swayed! TODAY IS THE DAY! NO MORE! Now open your mouths and let them know we're alive... ONE CRY! ONE CRY! All together now, DEFY! DEFY! DEFY!

Finally Free

2004-04-08T10:36:31Z

Good God it feels like rapture
And If I could capture
this moment in just one word, it would be
...freedom...
Free from years of pain
Free from efforts in vain
Free from you, oh god, this could be
...freedom...
Free to live my life
Free to take the skies
Free to decide what I should be
...freedom...
Good god I feel like breathing
Now I can start believing
The course is mine to pilot
And goddamn right I'll fly it
I'll take it for my own
Without the doubts you moaned
You can't even fucking see me...
...freedom.