SWIMMING IN YOUR OCEAN

When I'm sampling from your bosom


Sometimes I suffer from distractions like

Why does God cause things like tornadoes and train wrecks?




When I'm swimming in

When I'm swimming in your ocean

Floating aloft on creams

An scented lotions

I can get pretty side-tracked

I hope you'll understand



When I kneel before your bounty

Sometimes I wonder if there could be really

UFO's that come from other planets



And when you let me taste your fingers

I take them like fruit and as I linger I

Wonder if my seed will find purchase in your soil ...

.......happy birthday...wink

Prince Poppycock

Ok, sometimes I sit here and watch the television, blah blah blah, same old thing. And then what appears to be a freak show comes on the screen, and takes a whole new spin.

THE DREADED COLD BEAN SAMMICH

For years and years, I always trusted my moms cooking but I never knew why. Perhaps it was because the one time my mom went out of town and left dad with uas kids to feed he nearly burned the house down while trying to make popcorn. I still remember seeing the fear in dear old dads eyes when he placed the flaming pan upon moms coveted brand new dishwasher with the butcher block top.  We got the portable dishwasher at Montgomery Wards. Mom wanted it in "Harvest gold"  to match the kitchen but I think it costs extra so we got a white one with a beautiful finished wood top. In those days you were considered "rich folk" if you had a built in dishwasher. My mom adored it. She read the lil instruction  booklet  out loud to all of us so we would know how to use it. She would hover over  me everytime I wheeled it over to the sink to "hook it up" just to make sure I was 'doing it right'
 So you see, it was a sad day for dad when he burned the top. I thought it was kinda cool the way it left a perfect circle of burn in the wood. (I was into my woodburning kit from Christmas), but all of us kids stood there lookin at dads fear, knowing damn well that when mom came home all hell was gonna break loose. Even though it was dads fault, we knew that we would ALL pay for this but at least us kids could cry so mom would feel sorry for us. In those days dads didnt cry. But thats another story.
   My dad was a good man. Still is. But in the kitchen the only thing, to this day, he is allowed to make , is salsa. He makes a mean salsa so thats his only job. Men in those days never had to cook, or clean. All they had to do was go to work, and beat the kids when he came home. I am not joking here. My dad would come  home and the first words that came from moms mouth was usually, "Edward, go in there and kill that boy". Its a job he didnt really want to do but as a kid I was pretty bad so he was usually ready to give pain. And if it meant getting mom in a good mood again, hell, I was glad to volunteer a beating.
As I grew older  my dad and I bonded pretty good. I was a thinker so I would always have a story that went along with my wrong doings and my dad sometimes would give me a Governers pardon if the story was good enough. The coolest thing he ever did was go into my bedroon with a belt, close the door, and whispered to me to "pretend" he was spanking me while he wailed the belt upon the bed. But that too is another story.
What I want to talk about is  the horrifying cold bean sandwich.
 In my house growing up, we didnt have a lot of money. Mom and dad struggled to feed four kids But we never went to bed hungry. One of the reasons why is because mom always made beans. Always. Pinto  beans is usually a staple in a mexican family so thats what we ate. They were inexpensive to buy and eat so we learned to like pinto beans. Luckily mom makes KILLER home made tortillas. Theres nothing in this world as sweet and satifying as a fresh homemade tortilla straight off the grill. My mom makes the best, still does. I still remember the smell of them  cooking in the kitchen while I was sleeping. It would wake me up (mom knew this, it was like her only way to wake this lazy teenager up sometimes). I would stumble down to the kitchen, she would routinely hand me a tortilla and smile at me while I smeared hot butter on it and fold it into my eager lil hands. It was like GOLD to me. Sometimes I would put grape jelly on a tortilla and roll it up like a burrito.Theres a million ways to eat tortillas including using it as a napkin. A trick I kearned from my great grandfather. The disposable edible tortilla napkin.
 With Pinto beans its different. They usually only go through 2 stages. The first stage is "Ranchero" style the beans forst boiled in water for 5 hours then poured into a bowl eaten whole with fresh chopped green onions and cubed cheddar chunks of cheese. Salsa optional. The second stage is "Refries", smashed pinto beans with a lil milk and cheese.They can be eaten plain as a side dish or as a burrito filling.
  There are 3 things in the mexican culture that I consider to be a sacriledge.
The FIRST rule, for me, is to NEVER EVER make a taco with hambuger meat. If you do, please dont call it a taco. I like Taco Bell too but its not real Mexican food. Its like serving Spagettios to a bunch of Italians.
The SECOND rule is to NEVER EVER EVER put ketchup on mexican food. If i find out, I will personally go to your house and slap you so hard, my feet will come off the ground.
The THIRD rule goes out to the reason I hate my dads cooking. After a hard days work in our backyard, my dad asks me. "Hey you hungry?" I say "Yeah" thinking hes gonna treat me to a burger, fries and a shake from the Dairy Queen. He says "Hold on....keep working" and goes inside
So now i'm thinkin CHEESEBURGER! It was a rare treat to go to the Dairy Queen with my dad.Since we never had much money we would sometimes pack up the car, drive over to Henrys Hambugers and order just french fries and share them. So Dairy Queen was like HEAVEN! My dad  always ordered a "Tutti Frutti" milkshake for himself which always made me wonder if he ever knew  that it was a metaphor for something else. I wondered this only to myself for fear of never being able to go to Dairy Queen again.
While im pulling weeds with my mouth watering dreamin about all this Dairy Queen shit. I awaken in a cloud, but not a pleasant cloud.....I blink my eyes and see dad, standing there, Huge and Ugly, with an outstreched arm holding in his filthy brown hard workin mexican hands....the most horrible thing I have ever seen in my life!!! It was from the Devil himself....straight out of Hell. A half folded slice of whitebread, cradling inside, cold refried beans.
A COLD BEAN SAMMICH!
...........................................................To this day, I still havent forgiven dad for the cold bean sammich. I sometimes have nightmares about it. He didnt even have the decency to serve it warm. I still have chills thinkin about the inprints of his fingers on the bread. Hearing him say "EAT IT"" theres kids starving in Africa" ....."Or somewhere".....
As to which I replied, "Well lets find those kids and they can have this f'kin sammich"
I said this to myself.

IMMA FAMILY GUY!

It seems to be,
that all you see,
Is violence in movies,
and sex on TV.
But where are those good old fashioned values,
on which we used to rely?
Lucky imma family guy!
Lucky imma man who,
positively can do,
all the things that make you laugh and cry.....
IM......
A......
FAM.......
LEE......
GUUUUUUUUUUY!

*the end

The Smokers

*He lit the cigarette and smoked it down to the filter in one breath. He silently thanked the cigarette company for being thoughtful enough about his health to include a filter to protect him. So he lit up another. This time he didn't exhale the squeaky-clean filtered smoke, but just let it nestle in his lungs, filing his body with that good menthol flavor. Some more smokers knocked on his door and they came in and all started smoking along with him.


"How wonderful it is that we're all smoking," he thought.

Everyone smoked and smoked and after they smoked they all talked about smoking and how nice it was that they were all smokers and then they smoked some more.

Smoke, smoke, smoke. They all sang "Smoke That Cigarette" and "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes." Then the smokers smoked one more cigarette and left him alone in his easy chair, about to relax and enjoy a nice quiet smoke. And then his lips fell off.



*From the book "Cruel Shoes"-Steve Martin

:)

Wind me up.

Spin me around

Sleep

Wind me up

Spin me around

Walk the dog

Wind me up

Spin me around

Dont stop

My angel will love this

WHEN JUST BUT A LITTLE BOY
FULL OF LIFE AND MUCH JOY
COULDN'T WAIT TO PLAY AND HAVE FUN THAT DAY
A DAY WHEN YOUNG IN SENSE
MY HAND REACHED UP AND TOUCHED THE FENCE
THE SHOCK WIDENED MY EYES RIGHT AWAY
SCARED AND WENT RUNNING HOME
NO MOM NO DAD I WAS HOME ALONE
I WAS SO SCARED NOT SURE WHAT TO DO
TOLD NEIGHBOR LADY WHAT IV'E BEEN THRU
ASKING HER WHAT I SHOULD DO
ONLY TO HEAR HER SAY

LITTLE BOY . LITTLE BOY , YOU'LL NOT LIVE ANOTHER DAY
GO HOME NOW LITTLE BOY HOME TO DIE AND STAY

LITTLE BOY, LITTLE BOY , YOU'LL NOT LIVE ANOTHER DAY
GO HOME NOW LITTLE BOY , HOME TO DIE AND STAY

WITH TEARS IN MY EYES AND FEAR THAT I SHOULD DIE
SPENT MOST OF THE ASKING AND WONDERING WHY
COULDN'T TELL MOM OR DAD SO THEY NOT TO BE SO SAD
I HIDE IN MY ROOM COUNTING WHAT LITTLE TIME I HAD
I TOSSED AND TURNED AND WAS UP ALL NIGHT
AS THE TIME CAME UPON ME AND IN MY FRIGHT
AN HOUR LEFT I COULD STILL HEAR THE LADY SAY

LITTLE BOY , LITTLE BOY YOU'LL NOT LIVE ANOTHER DAY
GO HOME NOW LITTLE BOY LITTLE BOY TO DIE AND STAY

LITTLE BOY, LITTLE BOY YOU'LL NOT LIVE ANOTHER DAY
GO HOME NOW LITTLE BOY , TO DIE AND STAY

IT WAS THEN MY MIND SNAPPED AND LIFE WENT AWAY
MY LIFE AS A LITTLE BOY NEVER TO BE THE SAME WAY
WITH YEARS OF HELP FROM MOM AND DAD
THE MINISTERS ANDTHE DOCTORS AND ALL THE LOVE I HAD

MY LIFE AS OLDER BETTER IT IS THIS DAY
I WISHED ONLY IF THAT LADY WOULDN'T OF LIED MY LIFE AWAY
PLEASE PEOPLE TAKE CARE OF WHAT YOU SAY
WHAT WE SAY TO CHILDREN CAN AFFECT THEM IN SUCH A WAY
PLEASE PEOPLE TAKE CARE OF WHAT YOU SAY
CAUSE YOU CAN HURT THOSE CHILDREN IN SUCH A WAY

METALMAN

☻/
/▌
/ \ "Dreams are answers to questions we haven't yet figured out how to ask". ~X-Files







I have read somewhere that we all dream everytime we sleep. I know this is true for me because I dream all the time. It's just remembering the dream that makes it hard. I usually only remember certain parts of dreams but sometimes I can remember the whole thing. I started by keeping a journal by my bed and as soon as I wake up I write down my dream.
I have found that if I write the dream down within 5 minutes of waking up, I can remember alot more. After doing this for a while, it actually startled me because the dreams were really weird. Nostly scary or off the wall. I remember trying to make myself dream about certain things but it never worked.

What I did notice though, was that I had a few re-occuring dreans. One of them I want to tell you about. I call it "MetalMan". Not to be confused with Ironman although I am not ruling out the possibility that it's connected somehow.


Anyway, let me say a few things about this dream before I start.
First of all, it's always the same scene by scene,everytime. I can dream this dream and know that I am dreaming it again in the dream. The reason why I need to mention this is because there is a stupid ass part of the dream that is supposed to be funny, but it's not. So each time I am having the dream I am dreadfully anticipating that moment.
The other thing I wanted to say was that these pictures really dont look like the guy in my dream but its as close as I can get to give you an idea.He has no eyes, just dark sockets and he's really shiny!



Ok so heres the dream.............................I am awakening, kind of like a baby. My sences tell me that the sky is blue, the air smells clean and I feel like I am in a safe place. I feel my tiny bodystretch and twist as if awakening from a long soft sleep. I blink my eyes and see a shiny smiling face looking down at me. I then realize that I am being held by this figure. And he is HUGE. As big as a mountain! and he is all metal. Not just regular metal scraps but chromed metal! He is beautiful. And I guess he must like me because he smiled and is holding me in his huge hand, What is going to happen next? Why am I here? Metalman must know. So I will wait. Right here. Where its warm and cozy in Metalmans giant hand. I might even take another nap..........

...........WOAH whats goin on? we are standind behind a mountain and Metalman is acting weird. He is looking over the mountain as people pass by and then ducking. ............Oh My GOD! He's laughing!Ha Ha he sounds funny but its a weird laugh. Kinda like that dog "Muttley" from that old cartoon? It's kind of a wheezy laugh. Irritating actually. But what is even more ridiculous than that stupis laugh is that he thinks he is being "sneaky". It's like he thinks noboby can see him hiding behind the mountain.He is BIGGER than the mountain. He has to get on his knees to hide completely but he doesnt. Instead he just crouches over a little bit but paople can still see him. And some of them laugh . I hear them laugh at Metalman. I know he hears them laugh too but he probably doesnt realize that the jokes on him. So he laughs and snickers all day. Hmmm this could get old.........
..........Ok its night ime now and Metalman is finally tired of laughing and hiding behind the mountain so we go to sleep. .......................
.....................Morning comes and we go to the mountain again so I can watch Metalman act like he's hiding again. I hear the laugh and I realize its not so bad. After all, he is taking care of me and he really doesnt talk so whats the big deal if the big fella wants to have a lil fun? I just sit there and wave at the people. They seem to be bored of Metalman because the laugh must have pissed them off too.
Anyway this goes on for what seems like a few days and then one day. Metalman stops laughing. And looks down at me all serious like he is trying to tell me something. I look down from the mountain and Metalman stand up and points down to the people below. I stand up and look as Metalman bends over and slowly and very gently streches his huge arm down to the ground and opens his giant palm and hands me over to my real mom and dad.

WINDING DOWN

I made a New Years resolution this year. It occured to me tonight while at my brothers place. We talked alot about the good old days and the crazy things we've done. And believe me they were CRAZY! Some of those things will always remain just between Gabriel and I. Anyway, as we talked we began to explore the reasons for most of our mistakes along the way and came to the conclusion that whoever invented the metaphor "life in the fast lane", worded it correctly because it sure was fast. But too fast. Too fast for our own good because that is where 90% of the mistakes lied. It's true. As young people start to explore their future they often go too fast and overlook other details that might have prevented a mishap or failure. This is nothing new, really, but the whole discussion turned into a revelation of how we are now. Which is more laid back. And it was sort of rewarding (for me at least) because I knew that this year I had a new goal. Not a huge one, but none the less. a goal to remind myself to stay slow, dont panic, figure it out, yes, but dont freak out if it doesnt happen the way you want it. (it never does anyway huh?) Dont let mean people affect you, walk it off, stay away from rumors. Think of positive ways to talk to people, blow away negative energy and thoughts,especially thoughts because we have to use our mind to make actions. Theres so much more that relates to what i am thinking of at this very moment. So then we got quiet for a few minutes. Just Gabe and I. Both wondering what the other one was gonna say next, when Gabe started talking about our old pal named John who was always and still is in the fast lane. Gabe laughed about how he was always losing things. Everytine John came to us for a visit, he was always late, and he always had a story about what just happened to him and it usually involved something he forgot to do or something that he lost to make him late. It wasnt always a bad thing though. Sometimes his lateness included a gift for us like a good bottle of booze or concert tickets or stereo speakers or cd's.But for some reason there was always a sentiment of disapointment in my mind because I could see clearly that this young man was either taking a risk orgetting involved with something that might get us all into trouble. And a few times it did happen, we got into some situations that we never expected to happen. Like partying with him in a bar and finding out that John threw up in the bathroom and having the manager hand him a mop to clean it up and then kicked us out. Or locking his keys in his car. Losing his keys, losing his money, etc. etc. I will go on to say that 90% of the time when John came for a visit he would leave something that he forgot at our house, which sometimes involved us having to wake up at weird hors in the morning or go run something to him. But we love him like a brother and just accept him for what he is. The conversation turned to the theory of losing things, which is one of my main points in this whole blog. We all lose things. And sometimes we feel so dumb because we know its somewhere but cant find it. "It was just right here" is what we say and then our mind starts going int o a deep analysis of where it could be. But it all boils down to one of 2 things. Either it is here somewhere or it is somewhere else. If it is somewhere else it could still be yours or it could be gone forever. BUT, if it is here (now heres the important part), it will "show up" which means that you could either decide to spend all day lookin for it OR you can wait (kick back) and let it FIND YOU! AND IT WIL FIND YOU!! If it's there, i guaranfrikintee it. It always does. Sometimes its right under your nose, sometimes it's sitting in a position that is not visible at the angle that you eye is looking at. Sometimes its up there^^^ or there<<< or there>>>. well.... you get the picture...... As the conversation turned into this affirmation of what we knew to be truth, I noticed Gabe had a gleam in his eye, as did I as well because sometimes thoughts become things . And sometimes it pays to get to an age where you feel at ease to no longer give a fuck about trivial bullshit. To know that these spoken things are related to age and wisdom. Knowledge that might keep us alive a maybe even lil bit longer. Richard Pryor in his early standup years did an act about n old black man by the name of "Mudbone" Mudbone would tell fascinating stories about life and love.The most profound thing that Mudbone would relay is this...... and I qoute: "Ya know"....."Old people are not fools!"..."Naw Naw".."You dont get old to be no damn fool!" (pause) " Theres alotta young wise men though, that are deader than a motherfucker!" HAPPY NEW YEAR!!