When I Want to Retreat to the Past

When I want to retreat to the past, back into the ancient of days,

I think of my pagan grandfathers who lived the family life under a bower.

To go back into naked nature feels free;

where we live in Eden and Cain actually loves his neighbor,

and peace on earth is not a mad man’s philosophy.

I wish to go to the lea and take my right of passage test I strongly desire.

My state of becoming is almost complete.

Stay on target, no negativity.

The voice of a braggart tells me all good things must come to an end—Damn, I was so close to the center that time.

Now, prep for the drop of excitement; the greenness has lost its novice 

and will now grow wrinkles.

“Wave goodbye to the nice tree”, says dad smirking.

I am off to an isolated hotel room in the Bronx.

Here I am taught to live in fear of the unknown, a.k.a. the frantics 

who knocked down a monument of freedom.

Goodbye chthonic nature.  

Hello cunning industry creeping slowly to the center of the page.  

I see you brought your friends: hatred, discomfort, perversity, lust, exhaustion, speeding tickets, rebels, & weak aesthetics.  

Come on in and usurp my home.  Once you’re done, could you 

leave false motivation and apathy with me?  

Please?  They’re both so houseless and dependant on me, 

and I could really use a parasite for my brain.

Well, I lost it,

nothing to do but wait until the weekend for an erroneously acute rebirth.

Through your Father’s eyes

You come into the world, confused and bewildered.

Your father holds you up for the first time.

You grow to learn the good from the bad.

Growing and learning, he sees you.

As a young child he teaches you the ways of the world,

The differences, the conflicts, how refrigerators work.

He teaches, you learn

Growing and learning, he sees you.

Life goes on and you realize that your relationship

with your father is not how it was.

But he still watches over you.

Growing and learning, he sees you.

You grow to be a young man and move far away from him.

You think life is good now that you’re free.

But occasionally you feel incomplete.

Growing and learning, he still sees you.

He will always be with you,

Because if he did it right

Some of him will be in you

Growing and learning, he will always see you through his eyes.

Monday June 17, 2013

I hate the feeling of worthlessness.  

Most people don’t see how insignificant and worthless they really are.  They hide under masks: religion, vanity, fast food, and other fallacies of the world created by human kind.

Life is so misunderstood by all.  All the philosophies of the earth probably don’t come close to the Truth.

Immobility is the root of my depression.  Having no purpose and fear of failure prolongs the dark emotion.  

Life Un-Renewable T. Earl Pittard

LIFE UN-RENEWABLE by T. Earl Pittard

Somewhere along the course of living’s events,

There comes a chance to repent – even to ‘start again.’

Yet, items often can’t rearrange –

Discards of personal change –

Requires more drastic effort to rearrange;

‘Junk' put away for the facing of the current (even) arriving Day;

Still, sometimes facing that ‘crucible;’

There is Life Un-renewable for the price of simply moving on.

One Post (The Vinyl Picket Fence)

Fence from Toronto.
One post grounded for breaking.
Now I'm popular.

Once the first post is carefully shoved into the hole I made, I'll be on my way to popularity and fame.
All will oooh and aaah when the sight of my Canadian Fence catches their eye.
They chose right with advertising to a famed select few; the group I belong to.
Looking will be free, but pictures $7, and physical touching $15.
The neighbors will privately scream with envy and wives jogging past will request from their husbands to get the same--causing a humongous trifle in the domestic paradise.

YES! I have the most beautiful kingdom with this fence.
The most secure and private area; no one will know what happens on the inside
They will wonder and want the same thing.  To be safe within the home and no worries of petty burglary and theft.
The magic of the Vinyl Fence of the Great North protects and inspires beauty.
Love and respect the magic the Picket Fence creates.

Poem for May 6, 2013

Cell phone swindlers talk me up.
All they do is screw over the general public for a percentage.
They leave us with a ticking time bomb of hatred and regret.
I am the rube of all rubes,
The king of the chumps.
Giving me another reason to question my life and my choices.
I guess I'll just find a night flight to flee.

Loneliness and Hormones

My most passionate romantic entanglement began with loneliness and hormones,
but it ended with a loss of the horniness and the alone part stayed.
The proof of my ass hole-ness stained and stenched my whole self.
Baths and showers can't wash it away.

I wept like sandstone seeped with ocean amounts of water packed inside,
just waiting to break apart and crumble.


The world held up a mirror to me and all I saw was Fuck 'n Run
(even having my genitals set on fire didn't give me a full epiphany-- I began to ignore it more loudly as time did what it does best.  Luckily fires have a tendency to burn out with time).

I always saw it as the world is not with us, but I see now that we are not with the world.
And now I see that I have become the pre-wedding boyfriend.
Nothing ever stays with me because I don't let it,
deep down, I may not want it to.