Discovering space

Stillness,  occasionally gusting of
thoughts fogging over  the mindlessness.
Assailing with the din of  so called sanity
I need a larger cup, I am a larger cup

life has a way of suprising the fuck out of me when i least expect it.....just when i give up and concede that i must be happy with myself....bammo my sails have been righted and im cruising at 7 knots and dolphins are playfully flying beside me....i remember reading this book when i was in prison and the book was about this guy who fucked a dolphin and i think i jerked off with it...and this other book i read at that time was about end of the world there were no books left and people had to reconstruct books out of memory....and first time i went to juvie prison was in lakeview when i was 16 up in campbell river...there was this blue room that i first went into when i arrived and i found out it was the lockup room you went to if you had a spaz attack...then there were these dorms that if you were of good behavior you would move up from hut 1 to the coveted honor hut which was like hut six but i cant remember ever making it to there...maybe i did...i do remember kneeing this one bully in the balls while we were all playing touch football so the contact happened at about ten miles per hour and he had a huge bandage that looked like a diaper ball inside his pants...he never hassled me after that....and there was this one guard councellor that she had long dark hair down to her ass and was a petite woman in her twenties and i and all the other inmates wanted to fuck...and there was this woodpile that you had to cut firewood and i didnt like that job it was too hard and basically i am a lazy...im thinking if and i probably can but im too lazy to look for...if i could find a way to talk this into here and get it to type for me i would put more on paper..ha ha...so back to me...my fav topic....so at juvie i went to church....there were girls there and i also learned the lords prayer and how to sing amazing grace...over the years ive really tried to get into the whole religious scene but for some reason it never gelled for me..tried in juvie tried in brandon lake medium security jail when i was 18....got there after i transferred from the maxim security prison in victoria...when i was in wilkinson road jail 7 guys escaped by climbing up the bars in front of the tiers and i remember this one indian guy ended up in brandon lake later and he had tried to climb up the bars but couldnt cause he had a broken leg...they apparently went out this hole that had been made there by a previous convict who had escaped in the 1940's or sometime and the prison had only patched up..apparently one fella on the top tier or fourth tier had used guitar wire to saw thru the top bars seperating the tier from the ceiling...there was this one fella there that was a middle level prisoner in the heirachy of the internal prison society and his name was dave and i had met dave while in lakeview juvie ...he was a cook there...doing time as an adult but having a job in a min prison setting so when i got to wilkinson road prison he was a friendly face and oh yeah the transfer process i had been shackled up like silence of the lambs with  my feet and hands connected while sitting in the back of the van riding down from port to vic....come to think of it on the way down i was thinking that this was kind of an exciting journey

sitting down I do a quick scan
 of what are the chip stacks
what is the texture of the table
and who are the familiars

settling in comes with some focus
on who's leaning in...leaning out
body language reading is essential
is there anyone reading me?

who watches the flop....
when do they look at their cards
in turn? or do they give out info
assessing skill levels is a must

do I come out firing or do i
portray a tight aggressive stance
texture...oh it's everywhere
i must adapt...i must adapt

Flashlights

  How can I begin to describe
the joy that i feel when i illuminate

the darkness....the loneliness...the unconscious
its the penicillin for my soul
 
  The parallels define my life
whether i acknowledge the boogyman 
really isn't a necessary decision
Life will supply the switch
 
  I fucking love flashlights
and the security, warmth, and power
Like a light sabre cutting thru
and guiding me................

Rabies arn't funny

  The baby....the baby, the baby is dead there is no life in its eyes....lightened ...almost colorless iris's with pinpricks for pupils.  As we stand there in a horror movie of sorts.....but no its real life, coming to realize that God is a cruel cocksucker.  This baby is born without any brain activity....its a turnip and my friend for over 20 yrs is living in the middle of this freakshow and nobody is taking any responsibility.  The doctor....oh hes a crafty man....head of the bcma and a very likable guy...I want to be angry at him but i like him from previous encounters.....I need to be angry.....a person is supposed to be angry at something like this.  My friend and her husband are sad.....not angry like they should be but real sad sacks.....like this brain dead baby has sucked all the anger and fight out of them so I go into shock and stay out of anger.

  A week and a half go by and we wait in a church with all the other friends and family of this couple ...waiting for them to come home to port alberni from victoria....not knowing what to expect...will they bring the dead baby with them? we ask each other.  My friend she comes running in like a screaming banshee....."shes still alive....shes still alive"she wails like a siren.  We look a each other my wife and i with incredulity and disgust as my friend comes running into the church with the brain dead baby on her shoulder...I think to myself...what the f--k is going on?  Is there no sanity in this situation.....Then like a carnival show operator the preacher takes the turnip and holds it up to the sky and pleads..."God if its in your will breathe life into this baby" and well that takes the cake...my wife and i are absolutely stunned and completely disgusted in this display of vulgarity by a so called man of God.

  So another few days goes by and i go visit my friend and her husband to help be of some support and lo and behold the baby is still ticking.....there feeding it regularly and changing it...like a living doll ..no sounds ...nothing but breathing and wide  staring dead eyes...i make a quick departure....i cant handle it...I don't go back and see them until i know the dead baby is really dead... strange days indeed

steppin out

what is will
thinking creates
feelings.....feelings
create behaviours
behaviours create
life...not my life
I dont have a life

I am life

Forsaken and marginalized I trudge along
with a deep sense of inadeqacy
Broken hearted or is it
a sign of something more
Like an ingrained pattern
of irresponsibility

Feelings...I'm a good feeling addict
yet repetitively creating
loss for some hidden agenda

that's too close to see

I await my reunion