Justice in the United States Legal System...Oxymoronic?

The recent execution of Tookie Williams has once again opened the flood gates to a wide assortment of debate with regard to the United States Capital Punishment Legislature. The States have long been associated with this particular form of justice. Over time we have gone from stake-burning, to lynching to electrocution, gas or lethal injection. In spite of the obvious humanitarian concerns regarding the death penalty it has a wide range of support and most states are highly conservative with carrying out this sentence. Still, the debate; the moral question continues as states like Texas continue to abuse the right of the state to execute inmates.

As of April 1, 2005 there are 3,399 men and 53 women serving time on Death Row. Since 1976 there have been 976 executions. Since 1976 the State of Texas has executed 355 inmates making them the majority leader. California has a high number of inmates on death row, approx 648, but has only performed approx 13 executions since 1976. Virginia has executed 94, Oklahoma 79, Missouri 66 with the rest of the States falling behind these figures. New York seems to be one of the few heavily-populated states in which the death penalty is not active.

THE AGITATOR

At the above site you will find current, constantly-updated information regarding a man named Cory Maye who shot and subsequently killed a police officer during a late night raid of his home. Maye was tried and convicted of the murder and given a death sentence in spite of the grossly overlooked details of his case.

The gentleman in question is a black man living in a bad neighborhood; paying rent, for half of the duplex in which he lived, to an accused drug dealer-the man whom authorities were looking for when they raided the building. He also faced a nearly all-white juryin the state of Mississippi. Ron Jones, the officer killed wasnt just any officer but the Chief of Polices son. Ironically, Mr. Jones, an officer with the police department whose anonymous informant led to the raid, was not a member of the unit and should not have been active in the raid. If proper protocol had been followed, Ron Jones would not have been at the scene and thus would not have been gunned down.

The questions regarding this case many; most states in the country have laws that protect a citizens right to defend themselves against intruders. The evidence in the case clearly gives enough reasonable doubt to believe that Maye's shot to protect his daughter and himself. Still, amazingly but not surprisingly the man still sits on death row. It seems that there is more than enough evidence to have supported nothing more than a manslaughter charge if anything.

I feel for the families, friends and fellow officers of the officer who was killed. I do. However, I don't think that the young man meant to take the life of a white cop. Why aren't cops more aggressive about introducing themselves like they are on television? Had these officers been screaming 'POLICE' like they do on TV would the officer still be alive? Would that child still have a father? Would our judicial system have one less man awaiting lethal injection?

This case is especially unnerving when you take into account the fact that the man had a perfectly clean record prior to this incident and aside from the butt of a joint, there were no drugs found on his premises; though the cops were raiding the place on suspicion of distribution. His daughter now lives without a father; possibly with the knowledge that he will rot on death row or die at the hands of a government that was supposed to be protecting them, because of a late-night, forced-entry raid that had little to do with him. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Ironically, law enforcement officers on the other side of the barrel do not receive the same injustice and scrutiny. On September 13, 2000 in Modesto California, Local police officers and federal drug enforcement agencies raided the home of the Sepulveda family on a tip that Moises Sepulveda was involved in a methamphetamine ring.

The raid occurred a little after six a.m. as Mr. Sepulveda was getting ready for work. Officers busted through the door and ordered all three children and both parents to the ground. The raid turned to tragedy when 11 year old Albert Sepulveda was shot in the back of the head while lying prone on the ground as instructed by officers. A three month investigation ensued. During this time Officer David Hawn, a 21 year veteran of the police force and the man responsible for the death of the young man was put on leave pending an outcome.

At the conclusion of the investigation the shooting was found to be accidental discharge of a weapon and Officer Hawn was returned to duty, in spite of an investigation of the same man approximately a year prior; for another accidental shooting in which the Officer was also cleared of any wrong doing.

My first question is what was the Officers loaded, police issue weapon doing trained on an unarmed 11 year old child's head in the first place? My second question is why wasnt the officer charged with something CRIMINAL in this case? Murder is still murder, badge or not. A civilian can be charged with involuntary manslaughter for an accident and serve jail time but an officer gets a 3 month vacation for accidentally shooting a child in the back of the head?

Police Officers are supposed to protect the innocent and punish the guilty. In quite a few cases officers don't always act appropriately when raiding a residence. The body count of innocent people in the war on drugs is rising at an astronomical rate. This alone is sad but its made worse by the lack of reform in these departments, the lack of attention and legal action in these cases and the serious lack of regulations with regard to these activities. If an eye-for-an-eye is our country's stance on justice it should be so across the board. Whether you are rich or poor, white or black, Government or civilian; if you take a life, we will take yours. Otherwise, the only just thing to do would be to abolish Capital Punishment altogether.

For more information regarding these innocent civilian casualties:

INJUSTICE LINE

STOP THE DRUG WAR

CATO

~Originally appears in the New Years 2006 Edition of the Street Voice Newsletter.

Metamorphosis

The artist paints a design for discovery, for the absence of reason in the chaos and folds himself to sleep in the ages of whims. A state of calm in the restlessness? A ceaseless bounty of gauche inertness taints the world the scent of tar and the flavor of acid. I find myself crawling into the shallow seas of regret and back once more to the place where sleeping dogs were a fantastical faery-tale told to diligent children with big weepy eyes. Is it so hard to imagine a drifter that stays grounded, if only for a moment, to leave behind just a hint of distinction before casting his breath into the marble endeavors of bitterness ravaging? Fortune never smiles on the weak, it is but the gold of an age that existed only in the minds of the rotting asylum-ites and I found myself shedding more than a tear for the tireless genius of a wandering wit. My tasteless cynicism gives way to a new wave of likeness and I am haunted evermore by the sleepy dreariness that wakes in my dreams, like a serpent squeezing from me the last tangled gasp of heaven that never reaches my lung. A scarlet letter kiss and a falling fancy and still I sing with angels that are not bred here. There is much to be intrigued in the dark and even less to be tampered with by the light of the ever changing sun who grows weary and closer to defeat...to elevation. I am free only in my nightmares. I have come to find them the safest scheme in which to bask in the glow of the fiendish plague of laudable stoicism of which my disposition reeks. Tickled pink and then red but my eyes are a never-ending stream of cold; polar ice caps like that of the father that came before me and the mother who lost her soul in hopes of release. Perched upon my throne in this hallowed ground I've made my abode I relinquish myself to the metamorphosis of a soul that permeates in the desolation; twisting between the lies, not yet free, not yet known and not ever loved...but I think I came close once.

Vagrant Whispers

Shards of dreams pepper my eyes the scent of dusk
as I wade through the vast thicket of longing drenched
tainted a bit by desire for that which cannot be consumed
forgotten images of stolen pasts whose stories are not mine to tell
broken inside a vivid catalyst, sweet-tasting forgery of nothing
though I once thought of something better to give to the gods
silver haired giants mounted on peaking thrones of stone
fortune smiles in some desolate field but the farmer hears it moving
and I watch with my stained glass smile and straight glare
what is it about this time, this pleasant unpleasantness
but my wine tastes better after I'm spent and soaked
the steady sound of falling rain like pin-pricks in the distance
and I swear there's the faintest sound of laughter amidst the hum
fallen but in no way dead though i hear they do rise again
open-mind, gentle ramblings walking a finite line between
all that is, all that could and all that should be but isn't
tracing the moments like epiphanies till I see those eyes
those beautuful haunting eyes and I know I am free.

Chewed Gum

The flood reaches it's plateau before I reach shelter and I drown in the sorrow of it all. No longer safe in the arms of the forever that expands beyond the earth, beyond reason. You were the gift from a god I couldn't hold onto and though I tried, I could never bring you into me, rather onto my like a switchblade hacksawing through my rotting corpse. So clever were you in all your usual ways that I didn't see it coming until it came like a shotgun blast right into my chest and out of my heart. Falling into a canyon seems easier than this, this begging for forgivemess for sins that were not my own still it's my fault anyhow. At least that's what you said when I let you go, let you be, now watch me bleed. Say your prayers , I'm done, for I cannot be this for you-to you anymore. Yes, tonight with this ring I thee cast aside for something a little more stable..a little brighter. More so than the sun that you mourn the passing of like time infinitely wise in it's wisdom, infinitely slow in it's..what's that you say? I can't hear you over the rain, can't see you through the fog and here we go blessed be you are beautiful but wasteful and I am done with this game. The strumming of my heart has ceased to be, yes I know you don't care now and I don't want to but i do. G'nite!

BDSM...Huh?

BDSM is an acronym for Bondage-Discipline, Domination-Submission and Sadism-Masochism. The implications of these terms seem fairly obvious but can be entirely misleading and are often times misinterpreted. Truthfully, the specifics could be translated in so many different ways that I could be writing for days just on their complexities. So, without being too generalizing--in terms of vanilla relations (vanilla- meaning non-lifestyle, because these practices are lifestyles unto themselves) they mean whatever you want them to mean. If you like the idea of your partner tying you to the bed and having their way with you-you are engaging in bondage and possibly in a power dynamic not unlike that found in a Dominant-Submissive relationship. If you enjoy a good smack on the ass during intercourse that isn't as different from a sado-masochistic encounter as you'd like to believe. But let me break it down a little.

First, I would like to state for the record that in almost all arrangements inside these lifestyles and/or practices all parties involved SHOULD have three things in common. Trust, communication and consent! All three are VITAL to these practices. If you don't trust the person you're engaging in these activities with and if you cannot communicate honestly with each other-or--you have not consented to the activities taking place--it has the potential to be extremely dangerous, if not fatal. Anyone who knows anything about these ideas will tell you the same. After all, would you really want someone having power over you that you couldn't trust to use it wisely and with your best interests in mind? That being said...

Bondage-Discipline: Bondage refers to the use of rope, chains, and cuffs--anything that limits mobility. The idea is to be rendered (or to render) into a state of helplessness which can lend a very erotic pleasure to the act of fornication. I mean, orgasm is the epitomy of "letting go". Being helpless to stop the onslaught of pleasure can be very liberating and exciting. Discipline, in a vanilla setting is most likely used in role-play. You know, dirty catholic girl and daddy...or whatever. In terms of lifestyle, it is most often a companion to Dominant-Submissive relationships but can, in some instances, stand on it's own or in conjuction with any of the other practices. The idea is complex and hard to put into words but basically the disciplinee wants to be corrected, reprimanded etc... they want to be punished for doing something wrong. I heard the best story based on this idea years ago.

I was talking to a woman about this particular practice one day after she admitted to being a practitioner and she very plainly put it to me like this: it used to be, when she did something that hurt or upset her husband, he'd get mad-blow up-and they'd fight. Sometimes the fights would go on for days. It was horrible. Then they went to therapy and the therapist asked if they had ever considered alternatives to the fighting. She gave them some terms to look up and one of them was BDSM most specifically she wanted them to look into the discipline practices. At first it was wierd and sometimes they chose to fight instead but after a while it just became their only way of dealing. Instead of fighting and all the guilt and frustration that came with it; when he'd get upset about something they'd sit down and discuss precisely what he wanted to make him feel better about the situation. She'd take the punishment which usually ended in wild make-up sex anyway and all was forgiven. His temperament had never gone to that horrible place since and sometimes she even got to turn the tables on him.

Domination-Submission: The trickiest of the terms due to its complexities and society's overall views on "equality" in a relationship. To simplify it a bit this involves a power exchange. The submissive person(s) gives the Dominant(s) person control over themselves in one sense or another. In vanilla relations--one partner takes the role of aggressor (dominant) and one takes on the role of the submissive. This dynamic is quite familiar in most sexual relations anyhow but in this case, the power exchange is acknowledged on a conscious level. It is usually in this exchange that "dirty talk", kinky actions and flat out hormone-driven fucking like bunnies takes place.

In a lifestyle sense--the Dominant partner takes control of any and/or ALL aspects of the submissives life. For these people--it goes way beyond sex. This isn't to say that the submissive partner is treated like a lowly human being or an animal although there are alternative lifestylers that engage willingly in humilation as part of their submission. This simply means that the submissive partner has made a consious decision to give this control to her Dominant partner with the understanding that the partner can be trusted to guide them with love, understanding and responsibility. The submissive partner believes that the Dominant partner is fully capable of making decisions that are in the submissives best interest. This releases the submissive from making those decisions for themselves. This arrangement is called 24/7 Total Power Exchange. Notably, this exchange is where the "collar" comes from and yes, quite literally, the Dominant partner places a collar (or something symbolizing a collar) around the neck of their submissive partner. There are 2 very beautiful ceremonies regarding this particular ritual.

Dom-sub relationships can borrow practices and actions from Bondage-Discipline and Sadism-Masochism or it can exist without those practices...but where's the kink in that?!! LOL. It is a lifestyle all its own (and probably the most complex) due to the magnitude and impact of the power exchange involved. The important thing to remember about this type of relationships is that both parties CHOSE their roles. The submissive negotiates and agrees to her position and her lose of power. It is not taken.

That kind of situation is something else entirely.

Sadism-Masochism: probably the most mis-understood and highly criticized practices in the entire acronym. Whenever these words are mentioned people almost automatically get the imagery of leather daddies/momma's wielding whips and canes and implimenting various torture techniques on some poor schmuck. Okay these things do exist in this particular lifestyle. However, the Sadist is not some evil hellian on a rampage pummelling some poor unsuspecting creature for no reason. The Sadist (top) is engaging in an activity that the masochist (bottom) openly wants. Consider this: Scientist or should I say psychologists and behavioral analysts have proven that there is a very blurred line between pleasure and pain; both are incredibly intense. Add one to the other in a consentual environment that's twice the intensity at one time. For example; if someone were to walk by and pull your hair-it would hurt however, if your partner were to pull your hair during intercourse it probably wouldn't bother you and in some cases it could even heighten the experience. Biting is another great example. You are more apt to enjoy a painful nibble during the act of sex than outside that act.

The tools of this trade are more aptly what causes alarm. Whips...gasp...paddles...oh my! Rest assured! If the sadist has any clue what they're doing these tools are used with extreme caution and control; to maximize the experience for both their bottom and themselves. Sure a whip sounds pretty serious but I've heard the adrenaline rush is amazing. Personally, I could ignore most of the tools but some I find rather intriguing. A few I find incredibly fucking hot for instance, the flail. The professionally made (not the cheap-break-on-the-first-try kind) ones are composed of long strips of leather, rubber, latex, etc, (my preference is deer hide) that is braided into a handle and then the remaining length provides the tails. Imagine 12-36 leather strips, 12-18 inches long, flung with perfect accuracy down your back. I get wet just thinking about how that leather would feel against my skin.

Now, the Sado-Masochistic scenario does not necessarily require sex. Yes, both partners get off on what they are doing but that does not mean that they have to engage in sexual activities. The same could be said for any of these practices really. They are not bound to sex and can all stand intact on their own without either partner engaging in any form of sexual activity. The acts themselves create their own forms of pleasure for some. I know that may be a bit to wrap your head around but it's true. In fact, most professional Dominatrix' or Dominants (male) do NOT engage in sexual activities with their clients. They simply give them the treatment that they ask for.

Tragically, society has force-fed its public notions that folks who participate in this type of behavior are not only sexual deviants but social deviants as well. They are freaks-abnormal and psychologically ill. In fact at one time these behaviors were considered psychotic by mental health care professionals.

However, I would like to draw some attention to the positive aspects of these relationships. While the rest of us flounder through our relationships without any concept of how to ask for what we want/need from our partners, these people are very clear and concise from the get-go. In Dominant and Submissive relationships especially there is often a contract by both parties detailing the ins and out, do's and don't of the relationship. In sometimes graphic detail these partners spell out in no uncertain terms what they desire and expect from their partners. The results are healthy, long-lasting relationships with an astonishing amount of trust and intimacy. Sounds pretty deviant, eh?

For more information including safety, techniques, ideas, links and accessories please take a virtual trip to CASTLE REALM.

~Originally featured in the Christmas, 2005 Edition of the Street Voice Newsletter.

Weekday Romance

Monday-come on over for coffee?
Tuesday-I love you g’night
Wednesday-Don’t leave yet…
Thursday-I made chili for two
Friday-…...
Saturday-……
Sunday-……
Monday-Come over for coffee

I was good for the stuck days, good for the lame days
Good for a good fuck and a favor or a shoulder to bleed on
Good for the taking, good for the killing good for the raping
I was good for the 9-5, the days between and the nights without

But she lives for the weekend, the parties, the drinking
The casual sex with casual strangers that piss away in her absence
She doesn’t give a damn about them, even less about me
But she always changed her tune on Monday…always Monday

come Monday…when the world is lit with work that must be done
she’d call me for cuddling-sweetness to mix in her morning coffee
and I would come a callin--all hours of the day and night
all she had to do was ask and ask she did… ‘don’t leave me yet’

I was good for the weekday-'help me pass the time love.'
'Don’t go yet, sing me another lullaby, hold me near
Don’t see the marks that prove I’m not all yours dear
They mean nothing to me, just hold me here, don’t let go'

but come Friday same old shit again--same old game
why couldn’t I see? Why wouldn’t I learn?
she’s a farce, a fraud and she’s made one of me.
And all the sad and sorry apologies won’t change it all.

Because Friday…

They’ll never know the strangest things make her cry
Never know that place behind her ear that makes her hot
The things that make her the happiest can’t be bought
The words that make her smile can’t be found in a song

She’ll settle for her weekend toys, her weekend ploys
I won’t be the passerby that holds her heart aloft any longer
I’m tired of being a work-week kinda girl, tired of living a lie
Take what you can baby, cause Monday you’ll be alone…

This time you’ll have to do it on your own
Make yourself warm, sleep tight my dear
No matter who lies next to you, I hope you’re cold
Thanks for the 9-5, I’m looking for the 24-7 now…

And your Friday is always waiting...

The Funny Things No One Remembers

What can I say? I whisper to the small sleeping child in my dream. I came into this without reason, I came to you without sound and now you weep for me and I crumble into the currents of this death-defying heatstroke sent to me as a forever reminder of this bittersweet catalyst of a moment that forever infers an infinity that no one can touch. I remember without trying and forget without dying but this light will not get out of my eye-let me cease and I will give you freedom keep me chained and I will bring you rot. Sweet mercy haunts me with nothing but wrathful vengeance though my tongue steadies at an even 90 degrees. I yearn but that yields no fruit to bear and I make no amends for my actions; you saw it all coming anyhow, didn't you-wouldn't you if you saw me fade would you see me risen then too? I did not think so said the queen but it's off with your head anyhow, I care not what soul your marks leave behind. I just warn you away. Beautiful nothing that's all I bring with me and you mock me with your energy for those that know nothing yet you pour it on thick and seep not a drop of it into me but around me- surrounding me and I am weakened though not dead, at least, not yet. Oh they've tried those hellions in their laughter with their plaster-coated memories and their painted on brows but I will not be made a demon and I've long since been drafted a saint in no one's army so it's all out-fall out no one will win kind of deal but I suck it up, laugh it up and gut myself when i fill up-too much of not enough is painfully displeasing.and I have my thoughts spread out spliced open and torn to shreds upon this table but the anger seeps through me anyhow and you speak of it like you speak of me with daft cruelty masquerading in injustice oh pine for me won't you dear when your hell brings on my despair. I have spell-binding earth shattering questions that god refuses to answer-refuses to care like why give me the spindle when I do not keep the time and why make me as one with it and then cut it loose. Tainted are these teardrops of blood turned into wine and I left my reality standing headstrong in the winds of change but didn't remember gravity and lost it all the same. Hush little baby don't you cry it's all going to be alright well not this night it was a lie and they didn't tell their secrets in time to spare me, keep me save me of this from this and I am fumbling again for words and space and why do you look upon me with that face so eager so challenged but you know I gave it up gave it up gave it up and you were gone where did you go I haven't the will to keep searching so I leave my shiny little quarter inside this old well and hope it sends you kisses from angels and death looms somewhere in the distance he peers over my head and into my glass. drink little bad ass we're going for a ride and this time there's no one to stop the tide hit the brake you're going under and I will watch you drown and let you go just in time to be too late.....numb.

Spider Web Smiles.

I wish with all of my heart for a place inside that doesn't rot and never dies. Traversing through the spanning distance with a spring in step and a kink in neck and I find that only my thoughts have guided me here. I wonder through life with the certainty that uncertainty will be my everlasting companion but I take comfort in its company. Twisting little water way lends me a fresh bath and a warm breath of sunshine and I'll take off my coat and stay a while. Not too, too long just long enough to drink you in have a nice shot and I'll see you next time. With your cute little grin and your overalls stained with disappointment's. Adversity seems so righteous when it's putting on the two-step but I know now how to fly and I gave up on watching its topsy-turvy dance. Good night sweet angel tonight I fly with the demons to that unknown cavern-o-plenty and with you by my side I can conquer the she-beast within. Still, I walk on water-to-wine to reach the thundering abyss inside your peppered eyes and I whisper a goodnight against the fall of time that finally reached its last stroke. Patience was never a virtue just a lie and tonight I take the wheel and drive myself over the cliff just beyond the brink into the vast contagious valley of a blissful ever after only to wake slick with sweat and all alone touching myself where I miss your fingers. This is only a dream I whisper into the lightening outside my window bay and I, no more and no less, a mirage in this hour of fury, this hour of exhausted peace. I am in this moment happy in my unhappiness dosed on the knowledge that the path I walk along leads far beyond the wreckage sprawling before me and I need only walk to find a better place in my seclusion in which to rest my weary absent minded follies for one night. Sleep is the enemy but it sings sweet nothings in my waiting ears and I fall into, unto and through your eyes but for a moment and you are mine. I saw a ghost tonight. She stood fallen but erect outside the landscape where the moon shines brightest. She wondered if I would love you as I have come to love myself or would I give you the best of everything there is to walk in your shadow. Want not what you cannot have, she says seducing me into her spider-web smiles and take only what you need leave the rest for the afterlife it makes more sense there. And then she was gone, left me alone with feelings that never make sense and an empty glass to refill. My dreams sleep with you tonight and I sleep with the frog in my throat. Did I ever tell you that your body turns pink at my touch? Sacred, stark naked I lie in want without fear. I am free in my undead reality and you are my queen of the dark with the fire light beauty and the soft-spoken bite. Goodnight my love, Goodnight.

The Hottest Way to Bring Home a Bad Day!

We've all had them and we've all done it. We've had (as a famous children's book once put it) A terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day and we've brought it to our partners. All that anger and frustration boiling over the surface only to erupt at the slightest hint of a spark. Which, of course, leaves you searching for your pride, happiness and relationship in the embers of what they once were.

Next time try this. It will only work if you have had a terrible day, otherwise there just isn't enough conviction behind it to give it fire.

Call your partner and tell them to meet you at home (or if home isn't a joint commodity for you, someplace private). Don't argue and don't allow them to argue. They'll make up their own minds. Keep the conversation short, not bristled, just short.

When you walk through the door, take a moment to acknowledge them and then announce that you have had a horrible day. Don't give them a chance to speak. Just look them in the eye and say something like this...

"I don't want to talk, (you can talk about it later if you feel so inclined but it'll distract you and the moment will lose it's energy) I don't want to fight, I don't want to be alone, I just want to fuck you until I feel better."

"I don't want to make love, I don't want to play nice or be sweet or gentle. I don't want to be easy and I don't want to cuddle. I just want to bury myself inside you and make you cum so hard the walls shake. I want to take you over and over and over again. I want to fuck you hard and long and rough. I want to make you scream and squirm and beg me to stop..."

The idea is to be as kinky and dirty as possible without being lewd (the definition of lewd varies from person to person, so keep that in mind).

For bottoms or submissive's simply change the I want to I want you to.... Or for you role-playing buffs, use the third person edge "Daddy/Mommy, Master/Mistress wants..."

In any event, your bad mood is probably going to go away and you get some serious one-on-one NIN's "Closer" kind of time with your sweetie- provided they respond by giving you what you want.

If they don't respond with the same enthusiasm or interest, go to the bathroom, bedroom or home and do yourself. A little masturbation will also go a long way to cure a bad day. Just fuck yourself until you feel better.

Think about it, orgasm releases endorphines and other chemicals in the brain that naturally make you feel better. Sure beats rehashing the day by talking about it before releasing the steam attached to it and I know it would beat getting into a fight because you're attitude caused unpleasantness towards/for your beloved.

You can always try variations too. Perhaps roughly (but with respect) throwing them against a wall as you begin your dialogue. Get real close to their neck and almost whisper it into their ears or continue talking dirty after you've made your intentions clear etc... the possibilities are endless...

It's an interesting way to spread the peace and make a little love.

Well, have a good day and if you don't have a great ending to a very bad day. ;-D

**The author would like to remind readers, on the offhand chance that someone reads this and gets the wrong idea, consent is still a must even in this scenario. Your partner still has to CONSENT to this behavior. Rape is NEVER, under any circumstance, acceptable. NO ALWAYS means NO!

[excerpt from] Untitled project.

dialogue for ongoing project...

...

"Haven't you ever wondered about good and evil, heaven and hell, god and the devil?"

"Sure, religion is big around here, in case you hadn't noticed. We all wonder about those things, but let's face it, no one is really ever going to know-there aren't even any guarantees when you die that you'll know."

"Ah yes, religion- an unfortunate but necessary evil. Mortals are designed in such a way that without belief you'd be unsatisfied, without hope, lost, lonely and pointless."

"Where've you been? Those things still happen everyday to lots and lots of people with as much as without religion or any other belief to guide them and anyhow, why do you keep referring to the human race as though you are somehow better, cause you're lookin pretty human to me?"

"Sure, you're still plagued with these things, but imagine how much worse things would be without belief?"

"Okay, okay. Look, I happen to agree with you on that but it still doesn't answer my question."

"Have you read the Christian version of the story of creation?"

"Yeah, as a kid. Who in the English-Speaking, Catholic/Christian world hasn't?"

"And did you ever hear or read the story of Satan being thrown into hell to serve as its keeper for all of eternity."

"sure, most of us in this country have heard it anyway, some mistakenly refer to him as Lucifer which is incorrect, basically he was an angel serving god and one day he got a raging hemorrhoid up his ass and decided that he'd take on the thrown...Boom! Down he goes to rule the cavernous and fiery pits of hell... Dante's Inferno. Catholics believe in this more strongly than Christians though they both have their own versions of both the story and the concept."

"Do you believe in these stories?"

"I'm not a religious person. At best I am agnostic. I believe something greater than humanity is out there, I just don't care to ponder what that is. Besides, I don't have the arrogance to believe that I have the mental, physical or emotional capacity to understand what GOD really is, what It wants or what IT's plans are...What are you, some kind of religious fanatic...Or perhaps lunatic might be a better word?"

"Me? No. I have no use for religion. The facts, which are unabashedly linked into this complex web of details, are too important to waste on the trivial aspects of mortal life."

"What on earth are you talking about, look you seem relatively intelligent and ok but you're freaking me out. I've had a really long day and I need a shower and a shot or ten of tequila. Do you have a point to your bullshit here or are you just trying to get laid cause I hate to break it to ya sweetheart, you're cute but I'm not interested and my foot tells me that you wouldn't get very far otherwise!"

"In the beginning, at the time of creation the earth existed inside a realm of space. Your scientists have, over the years, traveled into the universe but can only make it so far. They do note however that the universe has been expanding."

"yeah, okay. And...?"

"Though it was not as barren as the Christians tell it, it wasn't fertile either. That took some work. This work wasn't entirely majestic. It took a great deal of time, thus your evolution theory. The genius of creation is that it only took the right adjustment towards the sun and some o2 in the atmosphere to begin the ascent. For the most part, it was just a matter of time. The sun began to warm the crag and together with the o2 began to chemically alter the entire rock."

"There were no preconceived ideas as to what would result from this, Human creation took the longest and came along fairly late in the game. It was interesting to witness the evolution of an organism no larger than an atom to the creatures you are now. Throughout this transformation there was no divine help contrary to mortal belief. Intervention was never meant to be part of the deal. Everything on this planet was left to its own devices, thus the many differences. Adaptation can only occur if things are left to fend for themselves."

"All organisms coexisted in relative peace, save for nature's food chain laws, adapting to the environment as it adapted to itself and it's inhabitants. Human beings 'grew up' quite literally until they were able to stand. Then they began to develop things like conscious thought, memories and ideas. This was an exciting thing to watch. As the intelligence level grew, changes in both your species and your surroundings occurred. I'll spare you the details of the Dinosaurs and the ice age and all that, your scientists make it all a lot more magical than the truth can anyhow. The point is life was given free-will by default, divine intervention was not the key to your beginnings, you simply became what you are through natural process."

"what does this have to do with me? Frankly, I don't care how or why things happen the way they do. All I know is I've had a really shitty fuckin day and I'm not all that interested in a trip to the holy land, I'm quite happy with the thought of being completely immoral or at the very least, without moral dilemma. If you would like to save me from my evil sinful ways it's not happenin tonight pal. I'm drinking myself to sleep alone in my apartment watching Breakfast at Tiffany's and Steel Magnolias while eating Ramen Noodles and smoking way too many cigarettes. There will be no deviation from this plan-so come back another day angel-fuck."

"Look, not to be rude sweetheart but in about ten minutes you're going to be awfully glad that you met me so how 'bout you save what you're about to say so you don't have to regret it later. Shall I continue or would you like to interupt some more? No? Are you sure? Very well. "

"As things began to progress we noticed that in death, souls became floating matter. The thought was, at some point, you would evolve entirely on your own. When this did not happen 'GOD' as you understand him asked his brother who would be the equivalent of your Satan--God of the 'underworld' for his help and advice. How ironic that the Roman's were the one's who stumbled upon that truth. So the two hitched the plan. The idea was flawless. The energy in the nucleus of your soul is your only perfect consciousness. It makes the decisions before your born that you should suffer certain things along the way in each lifetime. The whole program gives the souls a recycling capability. And each independant soul retains its knowledge and goes back down to learn something new."

"The proclaimed caverns of hell don't exist. That's your imaginations doing the talking. You simply step into a consciousness that is beyond your physical existence until you decide to learn something else then it's back you go. This seemed to be the best way to keep the situation from escalating. " Everything else that occurred naturally seemed to regenerate itself. Why not allow the residual nuclei that is your 'soul' to regenerate as well. "

"Thanks for the info...really, I'll sleep better now knowing all of this. I'm going home now."

"Wait."

"Look dude, I just stood here on this street corner listening to your crap when I could have been on my way home. I'm tired and I'm done. I'm not interested in story-hour any more."

NightScapes

It all went so wrong, so fast and so without regard to the lives in which it was reflecting. Like a puddle; a pool embracing a stone plummeting its depths. I sit here with my aching head, oh how corners bleed! You sit with your seething arrogance and lack of a better outlet. I tried to wave, tried to cry and still you show no remorse. Your faulty, fickle self-control works only in the light of happiness but oh how you shine in your bitchiness and I'm the bitch? I am tired of following to and fro like a boat to sea waiting for you to wake up, stand up, look me in the eye and admit that you were wrong-you were wronged-and I'm tired of feeling the wrath for my patience. I admit I played the fool, the pawn, the martyr and the loser a role you eagerly co-starred with your selfish fury, vacant eyes and meandering wit. We won an Oscar, did I forget to mention? And I see the dead now. You've helped me to hon my skill at the senses beyond the mentioned and I know more now than I'll ever utter to you. Fuck you and your pious soapbox, didn't you say I stood there? Laugh in the face of your friends and pretend that you know them, you don't even know you. Drink your precious indifference with a straw, the buzz is better. Have some respect or leave it be and never speak my name between those beautiful barbed-wire lips. Relax and reload you'll need the ammo for the road on which you're walking and I will give you no more than my life to end this nightmare. Show yourself, you haunting demon with your sadistic demanding or be done with it. Tired? In jest I become the jester of a lie that was never mine and you become the stark severance of a time long forgotten. You never could see close enough to you to know what was there, the looming distance always seemed more appealing. How does it look now that the stink of alone eases it's ugly face into your daydreams and nightscapes.

Home.

I thought I was going home today, but I think I was going crazy instead. Scratched my eyeball blind, drank too much decaf, smoked too many cigarettes. I found myself locked in the bathroom exposing myself in front of the fiction in the mirror that follows me where ever my wandering feet take me. Forgot to check the locks, didn't brush my teeth. Lay here crying in the filth of my own resolve to remain floating but I kissed an angel today or was that yesterday. Snow white wings and leather sandals. I can't remember her name, I lost it in the falling rain. A sky shedding tears for the relinquishing of my fears. This holds true, I cannot say. I want so much, so very little... a little sanity or insanity if that is the opposite of where I am at present. Someone turn off the light, it's too dark in here, I can't feel my heart and I know that my toe is broken. Are you lonely too, or am I making you up? Can you fly a kite in the eye of a storm? Where are my kids-mommy please come home... I'll give you everything to make me mine, make you whole again. Can you make me cry... I haven't done that in so long... A mockingbird sits tap-tapp-tapping on my window sill--wait I haven't got a windowsill, oh well, must be the flames licking the wax I hear. Sleep... oh why must you weep for me instead of come for me... I want arms around me. I can hear the pitter-patter-drip-drop-drip of the rain coming down all around me but the sky is baby blue and bright with the sun's light. I must go now, they are coming for me. Does anyone know who "they" might be? I'll be waiting here... waiting for everything... no, I don't wait... I move on... let go... where am I going? I thought I was going home.

Immortal

F*cked!
Spent from this rhyme
Sick of the waste
where are you going?
where have I been?
why won't the phone ring?
when will this picture burn?
if you love me;
if you want me
what happened?
I can't find my toys,
too lazy to do it myself.
go to bed with the want
we are better suited
anyhow...
ego bruised,
battered; now hollow.
you never knew me
the way you know
the me you wanted
that isn't who you
thought it was
C*nts peaked
in the absence
in denial
apathetic glance
sympathetic dreams
rigid fragility
forced mortality
I'd suck you dry
to be immortal
I expect as much from you,
love.

Centered

You

are
not
what
I'd
bargained
for
so
much
more
so
much
less
aching
denial
stretched
limbs
streaming
faces
cataclysmic
delight
fallen
into
rot
disrepair
I,
disrobed
blown
at
the
sight
of
you
warmed
by
your
sensuality
spurned
by
your
lies
you
you
make
me
cum-pletely
miserable.

Peppermint Patty is Gay

Woke up feeling much like a hangover this morning though I haven't had a drop to drink in hours. Fed my vanity in the mirror much the same as any other day. Wet my face, try to wash the cobwebs clear. How many spiders did I eat tonight? Tossed the fish a few nibbles, pawed at the pussy who bitches at my feet. Check the answering machine; only the sound of a train whistle blowing past. Flip on the stereo, tune it to random. Sit in my chair. The pale puke colored chair you loved to hate. Pick at my toes, scratch my ass only then to think of you. Flash of dream

My clever contortionist who smolders in my dreams. My cunt suddenly swollen with want. My fingers find my clit as I recall your reckless abandon in a scummy tavern's toilet. "Fuck you (here comes my cock) oh fuck, fuck me." What was that dear? Wake with a sweaty brow and sticky fingers. Stroke me in my dreams. You do so well there.

Phone rings, I'm suddenly ill, your voice crisp and clean through the digital contraption. This is a trap. You drone on and I loose a fresh spray of "I miss You" all over myself. Stalk to the bathroom, remember to use the antibacterial soap you so forced down my throat. Toss my soiled shorts into the growing pile of laundry you'd hate.

The fridge yields a beer and a tomato from your garden. Salt is good with my breakfast. Flip on the computer, there's a thesis to be done. You fade into my background, subtle presence, savage back lash. I'd pay a fortune to rid myself of the ghost of you that climbs these pasted walls. Play back your message as clip my nails. Beer first, talk later. It's all the same anyhow. I love you/hate you/want you/fuck you.