The Manic Placements of a Cause Unknown

The beginning of an end…

Month: November, 2011

08.24.10 0300


a randomness, followed w/ absolution-
smoke burns- lives deceased-

another soul for another day

my heart is racing-
your lips are wet-
a desire to speak truth-

destruction lies ahead

time line never ends-
w/ no concern to anyone-
lying here- dying here-
my day has just begun-

moon full
eyes too bright-

falling into the shadows w/ a memory that can’t be won





The fluent mixture- night&day
hazed over.
some days, i can never tell if I’m dreaming or waking.
An unusual life within.
Praised and hated.
Growing accustomed to screams of pain.
The tears of a new death.
Styrofoam cups litter about as we drive into the night.
Vibrant lights reflecting off sleepy homes, we sit in silence.
Never knowing whats behind the next door.
Who and what will we see?
How did i wake up in this seat?
This is not something you just sign up for.
The endless nights. Boredom followed with sheer terror.
Trusting your instincts. Your training.
The curiosity. The masochist.
Waiting for thats buzz.
…waiting for those tones…

10.24.10 0112


Tearing out the pages of a book,
much like flipping through the days
of memories past.
Friends, family, lovers. Enemies.
Confused as to the next step.
Never to retract this galaxy.
Pulse rate measured in gallops-
my walk too long.
my walk too beautiful.
An appreciation of a face,
                                 a laugh,
                                 a breath too critical.

The circumfrence of my ever tightening wall. Aching to burst. My concrete is fear. My fear is heart ache. Handicapped and challenged.
I hide in these headphones.

Memories of complications
– distorted to perfect an excuse.

10.08.10 0630

God lives on a bicycle,
The early morning air,
biting at your face w/
the threat of a fast approaching winter.
What ever happened to the days of ease?
The days when you didn’t need
alcohol to sleep.
The days before adulthood.
Everyone complains.
Find my reclusiveness difficult.
Almost torture.
In condition…
As always, comfort rises
w/ my tasks;
books, writing, music.

God lives on a fixed gear.
Before sunrise,
he rides with me.

OWS from the stance of an ambulance driver.

My brothers and sisters,
It is difficult times we live in. Tensions are great. Poverty is on the rise. People are trying to find escapes in every route. I currently sit at the hospital, on shift, tired and overworked. While I yawn, waiting for the cafeteria to open, I try to ignore the TV playing behind my head. Just another American, trying to survive and provide for his family. Attempting to stay aware of the world around him. I walk into the homes of those who have given up on life, given up on themselves. I’m a blue collar “clinician.” Just another pair of hands trying to save a life and help a fellow human. Yet, I’m still over consumed by the endless chase of wealth. I’ve learned the way to feed your family… Stop paying your bills!
The following link is to a clip that a close friend in Iraq sent me. Incredibly moving footage of a Marine, fresh from the Middle East, wishing to add his two cents on Occupy Wall Street. The expressions on NYPDs face are priceless. The shock and awe of the towering Marine, speaking a truth too powerful. His role, on the front lines of the other end of a capitalist war. He has come home to see the violence of a corporate ran country plaguing the streets of cities every where. The right to assemble or speak are at the powers of judges who are bought and sold. May our voices be heard one day. Especially those of the service men and women, who are viewed as a number. Who can be categorized as  an “acceptable lose.” Those who see the most unfortunately speak the least. 
Occupy (my locale) has had a turn out of maybe 50-100. The politics of the midwest are usually dictated by the views of Fox News talking heads. Yet, while I hear complaints, from said parties, about how bad times are, they are also in the same conversation about the “jobless hippies in New York.” As the movements progress and messages are heard, growth is continued to be blocked by a virus. A virus of obedience. A virus of confirmation.
I’m infected. Your infected. We are all infected.
In our various roles (paramedic, soldier, student) we inhabit the bodies of Americans. Our sites are set on our various ideas of an American dream. Some of us dream of leaving this country. Others stay and attempt to work this society. Some of us sell our minds, bodies, and souls. Though, we all have our chemical balances that can ignite.
As we grow older, may we continue to question. As we continue to grow tired in our roles, may we have the strength to stand. As we search deep in the darkness, trying to find our placement on this planet, may we continue to recognize our passions.
As for me, I will keep rubbing the sleep from my eye, a night shifter dreaming, devising plans. Some how, I am still able to pay rent!