I've killed us all in a blaze of love

JOHNNY CASH- BORN TO LOSE

macabreclouds — Sat, 19 Nov 2005 18:39:16 GMT

Born to lose, I've lived my life in vain
Every dream has only brought me pain
All my life, I've always been so blue
Born to lose, and now I'm losing you

Born to lose, it seems so hard to bear
How I long to always have you near
You've grown tired, and now you say we're thru
Born to lose, and now I'm losing you

Born to lose, my every hope is gone
It's so hard to face an empty dawn
You were all the happiness I knew
Born to lose, and now I'm losing you

There's no use to dream of happiness
All I see is only loneliness
All my life, I've always been so blue
Born to lose, and now I'm losing you

ruminations

macabreclouds — Sun, 30 Oct 2005 03:26:14 GMT

Freedom from this fickle fighting world is a hard thing to come by, there are many places to look: a bottle a syringe a burning spoon a song a lovers embrace. There're all these places but freedom, not escape, can't be found in any of them. the conlcusion though seems to be in death, but not an unnatural death. Freedom can't be rushed

My eyes are pulsing to rhythm of dwaynes mechanical manufactured drums, its drawing my attention capturing my imagination. Taking from me all of me. Damn him but I love it all the same.

Every time I close my eyes I see sunflowers and poppies nothing else. Just sunflowers and poppies. They aren't moving, there no wind to make them undulate and live. Just the starkness of these two flowers mixed and staring back me. Daring something in me to snap, but what. What do they want to snap: sanity, love, hate, excretion. I don't know what they want

Whiskey and cigarettes seem to be what god gave me to taste heaven, and perhaps welcome me there a little faster. Who knows. Who knows anything. Does anyone know that there is wisdom in knowing nothing. I don't I guess no of us will ever known anything

fuck

The Gates

macabreclouds — Thu, 06 Oct 2005 01:16:38 GMT

As I went walking through the gates of hell
I saw the unexpected, I saw the beauty of Gd
All around the grace of Gd

AS I went waling through the gates of heaven
I saw the unexpectred, I saw roting corpses and death
No Angels where there

So I left there and found my way back home
but when when I got there all I saw was
Angles and demons making love

And when I got there, there was no sovriegn order
no sovriegn order did I find
Nothing there to find

So I picked up my gun
And I shot, I shot myself
To find those things I was looking for
But what they are I don't know

I'll have to go back to the Gates of Heaven
I'll have to go back to the Gates of Hell again.

David Bowie- Fill Your Heart

macabreclouds — Wed, 05 Oct 2005 01:47:28 GMT

Fill your heart with love today

Don't play the game of time

Things that happened in the past

Only happened in your Mind

Only in your Mind-Forget your Mind

And you'll be free-yea'

The writing's n the wall

Free-yea'. And you can know it all

If you choose. Just remember

Lovers never lose

'Cause they are Free of thoughts unpure (sic)

And of thoughts unkind

Gentleness clears the soul

Love cleans the mind

And makes it Free.

Happiness is happening

The dragons have been bled

Gentleness is everywhere

Fear's just in your Head

Only in your Head

Fear is in your Head

Only in your Head

So Forget your Head

And you'll be free

The writing's on the wall

Free-yea'. And you can know it all

If you choose. Just remember

Lovers never lose

'Cause they are free of thoughts unpure

And of thoughts unkind

Gentleness clears the soul

Love cleans the mind

And makes it Free!!

Free-yea'. Yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah (repeat)

macabreclouds — Wed, 21 Sep 2005 01:43:52 GMT

2 cigarettes crushed beneath a rocking chair’s rungs. A couple drags off of a 3rd and clothes fall off. Falling into a semi-cold pool, drift, stair, sluggishly swim till everything feels done. Trudge up the slime wet cold steps, water sliding depressingly off. Finish the 3rd cigarette. Put the shirt, the boxers back on. No point in the shorts. Head on back inside, check through cumputer mush. Anyone send digitized cumfort, feelings, understanding? Nope. Shut down the computer, the lights, the fan, too bad can’t shut off like them, can’t just stop. Meander through the uneasy too natural darkness, up the occasionally creaky steps. Into the bedroom, flick the switch bringing startling maternal artificiality. Pull the string back to the uneasy darkness. Shirt off again, boxers stay on. Slough off onto the bed. Eyes closed, this is the cumforting darkness. Relax alittle to much and eyes slip back open. Affronted by familiar posters, pictured covered walls, the familiar bed-posts, floors, desk, ceiling. All too familiar all to close. Black again, back again, Safe again

Big Jim Watkins

macabreclouds — Wed, 21 Sep 2005 01:29:04 GMT

Katrina roared on into town
She hit us hard a quarter to five
Oh lord she left only a few alive

Big Jim Watkins was struggling with his wife
She yelled “Take care of the kids”
And slowly softly quietly she died
Oh lord that’s exactly what she did

With soft tears glistening eyes
The Watkins family went no where bound
Trudgin through mud, thinking their goodbyes
But mud caked cadavers was all they found

Katrina was a mean old bitch
She beat us around
Screamin with a devilish sound

That poor Watkins family
Somehow the made it through
They managed heartbrokenly bravely
But they suffered good lord that’s true

Mrs. Watkins flyin high above
She smiled wide, when they struggled hard
And sent them hug disguised as a dove
To help big Jim Watkins keep up his guard
For the those kids his only earthly love

macabreclouds — Thu, 15 Sep 2005 02:53:49 GMT

I've never felt that life was more pointless than right now.

A TRAITOR IS ABOUT TO BE HONORED

macabreclouds — Fri, 02 Sep 2005 03:12:41 GMT

IF YOU NEVER FORWARDED ANYTHING IN YOU LIFE FORWARD THIS SO THAT EVERYONE WILL KNOW!!!!!!.......

She really was a traitor

A TRAITOR IS ABOUT TO BE HONORED
KEEP THIS MOVING ACROSS AMERICA

This is for all the kids born in the 70's who do
not remember, and didn't have to bear the
burden that our fathers, mothers and older
brothers and sisters had to bear.
Jane Fonda is being honored as one of the
"100 Women of the Century."
BY BARBRA WALTERS
Unfortunately, many have forgotten and still
countless others have never known how Ms.
Fonda betrayed not only the idea of our country,
but specific men who served and sacrificed
during Vietnam.

The first part of this is from an F-4E pilot
The pilot's name is Jerry Driscoll, a River Rat.
In 1968, the former Commandant of the USAF
Survival School was a POW in Ho Lo Prison
the "Hanoi Hilton."
Dragged from a stinking cesspit of a cell,
cleaned, fed, and dressed in clean PJ's, he was
ordered to describe for a visiting American
"Peace Activist" the "lenient and humane
treatment" he'd received.
He spat at Ms. Fonda, was clubbed, and was
dragged away.
During the subsequent beating, he fell forward
on to the camp Commandant's feet, which
sent that officer berserk.
In 1978, the Air Force Colonel still suffered from
double vision (which permanently ended his
flying career) from the Commandant's frenzied
application of a wooden baton.
From 1963-65, Col. Larry Carrigan was in the
47FW/DO (F-4E's). He spent 6 years in the
"Hanoi Hilton",,, the first three of which his
family only knew he was "missing in action".
His wife lived on faith that he was still alive.
His group, too, got the cleaned-up, fed and
clothed routine in preparation for a
"peace delegation" visit.
They, however, had time and devised a plan to
get word to the world that they were alive
and still survived. Each man secreted a tiny
piece of paper, with his Social Security Number
on it, in the palm of his hand.
When paraded before Ms. Fonda and a
cameraman, she walked the line, shaking each
man's hand and asking little encouraging
snippets like: "Aren't you sorry you bombed
babies?" and "Are you grateful for the humane
treatment from your benevolent captors?"
Believing this HAD to be an act, they each
palmed her their sliver of paper.
She took them all without missing a beat. At the
end of the line and once the camera stopped
rolling, to the shocked disbelief of the POWs,
she turned to the officer in charge and handed
him all the little pieces of paper.
Three men died from the subsequent beatings.
Colonel Carrigan was almost number four
but he survived, which is the only reason we
know of her actions that day.
I was a civilian economic development advisor
in Vietnam, and was captured by the North
Vietnamese communists in South Vietnam in
1968, and held prisoner for over 5 years.
I spent 27 months in solitary confinement; one
year in a cage in Cambodia; and one year
in a "black box" in Hanoi.
My North Vietnamese captors deliberately
poisoned and murdered a female missionary, a
nurse in a leprosarium in Ban me Thuot, South
Vietnam, whom I buried in the jungle near the
Cambodian border.
At one time, I weighed only about 90 lbs.
(My normal weight is 170 lbs.)

We were Jane Fonda's "war criminals."
When Jane Fonda was in Hanoi, I was asked by
the camp communist political officer if I would
be willing to meet with her.
I said yes, for I wanted to tell her about the real
treatment we POWs received... and how
different it was from the treatment purported by
the North Vietnamese, and parroted by her as
"humane and lenient."
Because of this, I spent three days on a rocky
floor on my knees, with my arms outstretched
with a large steel weights placed on my hands,
and beaten with a bamboo cane.
I had the opportunity to meet with Jane Fonda
soon after I was released. I asked her
if she would be willing to debate me on TV.
She never did answer me.
These first-hand experiences do not exemplify
someone who should be honored as part
of "100 Years of Great Women."
Lest we forget..." 100 Years of Great Women"
should never include a traitor whose hands are
covered with the blood of so many patriots.
There are few things I have strong visceral
reactions to, but Hanoi Jane's participation in
blatant treason, is one of them.
Please take the time to forward to as many
people as you possibly can.
It will eventually end up on her computer and
she needs to know that we will never forget.
RONALD D. SAMPSON, CMSgt, USAF
716 Maintenance Squadron, Chief of
Maintenance
DSN: 875-6431
COMM: 883-6343
PLEASE HELP BY SENDING THIS TO
EVERYONE IN YOUR ADDRESS BOOK. IF
ENOUGH PEOPLE SEE THIS MAYBE HER
STATUS WILL CHANGE

macabreclouds — Thu, 01 Sep 2005 04:03:38 GMT

Its a devilish thing we do

THE DEVILS IN WARREN

macabreclouds — Tue, 30 Aug 2005 02:51:52 GMT

The devils in Warren
He's killing cats
For that montgomery girl

But don't punish him Ma
Its just a phase

The devils in Warren
He's slaughtering Girls
by the command of satan

But don't turn him in ma
He's just doing what they say

The devils in WArren
He's raping girls
For what we call god

But don't freak ma
Its just how he is

The devils in Warren
He's killing men
And laughing as well

But don't fret Ma
You won't give him bliss

The devils in Warren
He's crying hard
As he's destroying himself

But don't worry ma
He's gone on to heaven
And the devils in his son.

macabreclouds — Tue, 23 Aug 2005 21:35:27 GMT

Swirl...... Swirl.. swirl the waters take your blazing finger and swirl these waters. Make the cities switch places, turn these roads into mountains make the oceans death while the lovers have to walk on trees. Twist and gnarl youths as the lay in black fields as the waters swirl changing melting twirling with tumultuous melodies grinding into the skin blazing past glory. Past that train not bound for glory. Rush chugging into stars burst through beers and see where you're going by staring blank eyed and dilated. Swirl.......Swirl these waters are changing grab at seaweed there aint no footing hear as everything coagulates around your feet. Alienate suicides as lovers tend to lose it crash and awe as waves fly away, strumming through a micro mine with harmonics blaring out of charred ears. But swirl......... Swirl.. swirl these waters into eternity dip your finger in and feel elation as there isn't eternity, just ideology. Conversion into metrics rings in nothing better than what was before but trees are bleeding into the sky as it all drains down together. So trundle rising in speed rampage through pages with constitutions like coal. Blow a bubble chewed from skull, the death maker Swirl.......Swirl...Swirl the water and make gold play alchemy still reigns and dinosaurs give speeches to senators on how to predate and see past the lambs at the bigger quarry like Pop culture cows flying high on beautician promises. Loves too much of a farce. Swirl........Swirl…. swirl these mud bogged waters, bog her down with suicide guilt trips blind with self loathing love. We're gone nothing to do but complain so more. Trick her back, sin her back what the hell you only think you love her. Frenetic fencing with graphite dead men on sticks 65 points to the one who dies. Try it with a skyscraper or maybe the lumberjacks aren't coming and Robert was wrong. could be 21 things that continue threes to much used to be right. Swirl.......Swirl...Swirl.

SON VOLT, THE RETURN

macabreclouds — Wed, 17 Aug 2005 03:54:23 GMT

Okemah and the Melody of Riot shipped out into music stores July 12th announcing the return of Son Volt to the music world.
It has been 7 years since Jay Farrar has been in a band. Since Son Volt originally broke up in 1998, Farrar has been making solo records and touring playing acoustic sets. "After having done two primarily acoustic-oriented solo records and a lot of acoustic touring for several years," says Farrar, "I was ready to get back to playing electric. I wanted the solo records to be open-ended, open to trying out different sounds, different approaches. With this Son Volt record, I wanted to get back to the fundamentals."
Reforming Son Volt proved difficult. The original members, other than Farrar, couldn’t come to terms with “creative differences”, so Farrar had to find new members. Dave Bryson plays drums, Andrew Duplantis is on bass and backing vocals, while Brad Rice plays guitar. All of these musicians are new to Son Volt, but with Jay Farrar being the original Son Volt lead, bringing his uniquely smooth and powerful voice, piercing lyrics, and driving musical vision, proves to any doubters that this is Son Volt and not Jay Farrar trying to rip off the name.
The album opens with a song called “Bandages and Scars”. With good old rock guitar and drums, Farrar couples it with Woody Guthrie-esc political words. The Woody Guthrie influence is even more present in the chorus (“Words of Woody Guthrie ringing in my head…”) Track two, “After Glow 61”, kicks up the rock ‘n roll feel with this driving homage to Highway 61--a mainstay in rock and blues. “Jet pilot”, track three, rolls back to a political climate. Farrar leaves his lyrics just ambiguous enough so that they have a commentary and purpose, but do not come off as self-righteous or preachy. The rest off the album keeps going up from there; the band pushes genres with “Medication”, track 8, a slow, flowing song with a Middle-Eastern/Indian flair. The final track of the album, “World Waits for You”, is the first song Jay Farrar has composed on the piano. It is a somber, melodious ballad, which might have been written to Farrar’s children. Son Volt’s “Okemah and The Melody of Riot” is an organic and brilliant album. Jay Farrar has brought Son Volt back more solid and even better than before.

Small Boy... completed

macabreclouds — Wed, 27 Jul 2005 04:12:54 GMT

I was walkin the town
When I saw the dutchmen dead
In the door way of his bar
But All I could think of was
Whether or not they left him his bus fare

Black albatrosses wheel in the sky
As the city buildings beneath breathe death
Every person cowers and prays
Except for a small boy spreading light

I remember walking the field
When I saw a young daughter
Who was covered with
Her fathers blood shadow
It draped across the wailing half of her face

Black albatrosses wheel in the sky
As the city buildings beneath breathe death
Everyone cowers and prays
Except for a small boy spreading light

I was a walkin the street
When I saw a building burning
There was a lady sitting
Who just let the flames eat her skin
As she laughed and laughed and laughed

Black albatrosses wheel in the sky
As the city buildings beneath breathe death
Every person cowers and prays
Except for a small boy spreading light

I remember walkin Johny's line
Except I don't know who I was walkin it for
but I didn't walk it to well
Till I met that one right there

Black albatrosses wheel in the sky
As the city buildings beneath breathe death
Every person cowers and prays
Except for a small boy spreading light

I was walkin the catacombs
When a good friend a mine came up
With terror across his face
His was rantin and ravin about his just recent death

Black albatrosses wheel in the sky
As the city buildings beneath breathe death
Every person cowers and prays
Except for a small boy spreading light

I remember walkin memory
Where held a daytime flashlight
Boy did it do wonders
To what I saw and what I felt
But it didn't matter cuz I left it in the gutter

Black albatrosses wheel in the sky
As the city buildings beneath breathe death
Every person cowers and prays
Except for a small boy spreading light

Wind and Trees a Haiku

macabreclouds — Tue, 26 Jul 2005 06:05:42 GMT

Tree bows undulate
As the wind blows through black bones
And all birds are dead

A small Boy

macabreclouds — Tue, 26 Jul 2005 06:02:13 GMT

macabreclouds — Thu, 14 Jul 2005 05:21:26 GMT

Its not about having the best time, its about having the best time without hurting anyone else. Look out for those around you.

macabreclouds — Wed, 06 Jul 2005 01:05:25 GMT

so finally an update type from Jaron. Its odd seeing that name I'm so used to hearing and seeing Biff. its a camp thing I'll tell you later. But anyway, being a camp councilor is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. I grow so much everytime I come here. The people hear are all my friends and willing to listen when ever I have a problems. ANd Ive had quite a few this summer. I really found a greatfriend here to trever is his camp name is slug and he kicks ass hard core. Its even beter that he lives in p.cola. ANd Trever has become perhaps my closest friend. There has been alot of shit happening while I've been gone and that really upset me that it happened while I was gone instead of when I was there. But all that will be taken care of when I finally come home for school. Anyway on to happier thoughts. I LOVE ALICIA and I muiss that girl like crazy. Can't wait to see here on friday. I shall end with that goodnight to all.

macabreclouds — Fri, 24 Jun 2005 04:04:00 GMT

oh man. my new layout is totally bitchin'. i love it. AND I LOVE ALICIA.

damn straight. 'cause she made it for me and she kicks ass. and i really need to come back from camp, because alicia is getting really depressed and whatnot. blahblahblahi'm a faggotlollololz. ALICIA SHOULD GET MORE SLEEP.

god, my mood icons are gay as hell. i should change them.

macabreclouds — Thu, 26 May 2005 06:49:20 GMT

I'm off, but I leave behind heaving dark seas of confusion and hurt. And there is only one thing I know for certain, but that one thing Angers giants I did not know slept. I still hope though for calm seas of bright green with a sun smiling friendship.

macabreclouds — Wed, 25 May 2005 02:00:42 GMT

O lord this pain, This pain O lord. Can I stand it? Can I keep this pain, this protective jealousy, can I keep it from becoming anger or hate? I don't want hate because any rage or hate would be holey unjust and unprovoked. Hate would be utterly wrong. But lord there is so much pain and sorrow. I don't pity myself nor do I regret my original decision. But I do regret my immature Big headed attempts at arrogant Bravura that followed

I want my love God. But I don't want it at the cost of one or the other. O God, but this pain, such pain such agony I did not know I could feel or stand such as this. This torturing uncertainty. Twisting and turning in my chest stabbing from different angles each and every second. threatening to break free from my bosom and create chaotic destructive raging hate.

My err went so much deeper than I could possibly predicted. The need to stop where I was was real. for I was not the person I should have been. But I feel even in regaining the high ground of white being it may not be enough. It may have occurred to late.

AI-YA! My lord what am I to do with this pain. O Lord help me in my Agony!

macabreclouds — Tue, 24 May 2005 23:24:02 GMT

I have erred oh have I erred, and I all I can do is sit and ride the wave created. I can't take action. I can't take action for there isn't enough time to watch and cultivate the growings from any action. I can't plant the seed, I have to ride this erred wave untill there is time for me to try certain actions and hope others err as well thusly correct mine. How I hate waiting.

macabreclouds — Tue, 24 May 2005 00:43:49 GMT

these past few days have been the oddest of my life. I've spent more time thinking about my relationships both friends and girlfriends than I ever have before. And with new information put into the already existing computation I know for a certainty that something big is going to happen this summer. And I have a feeling sooner rather than later. What happens will decide whether I stay or leave after high school. I've come to realize how much we are obsessed over our personal fun rather than group fun, and that disturbs me. How one in the group is excluded and neglected so the others can have fun. I had a sudden epiphany that I'm going to leave everyone behind. I came to this late the other night after trying to figure how these relationships will play out with my desires for myself after high school. There is this profound pull to go after high school to a kibbutz in Israel. And to live up near my dad for awhile, I know that my friends don't want this they want to do what they will do. But I still feel a strong connection and leaving them seems wrong. Because I know I'm relied upon for support the occasional guidance, what will happen if I disappear even for a short time could possibly be bad or not. thusly there is still a churning mass in my body that is telling something is going to happen that will force my hand one way to stay with the loves I have or will force me to find new ones and leave these ones here. There's also the feeling that it will be no white hand of benevolence that will force my decision, but it will be a fiery hand of chaotic hate. I don't wish it but I feels its going to happen. I can't wait too long though, for inaction can cause worse consequences the the wrong action.

macabreclouds — Thu, 19 May 2005 16:44:21 GMT

this world aint getting better
but it keeps getting worse day by day

FRAYED AND DIEING

macabreclouds — Thu, 19 May 2005 02:51:06 GMT

Everything is frayed
And everything is dieing
Cut apart by sarcastic scissors

Crisco covered suit and tie men dance around candy cane fires
While Laughing high above there stretching a long haired bearded Farce
Screeching “Dance You Liars Dance For Your World Is What I Make It!”

Everything is frayed
And everything is dieing
Cut apart by sarcastic scissors

Eternity rumbles and swirls as Thoreau
Throws up his transcendental beliefs
Crying with every breath why can’t he win.

Everything is frayed
And everything is dieing
Cut apart by sarcastic scissors

A melancholy sigh rips through the futures greatness
Causing a messiah to falter and second guess
What is he doing and what’s the point

Everything is frayed
And everything is dieing
Cut apart by sarcastic scissors

Oh Lord do I love him
Oh lord do I dare defy him
Is that’s all that’s on her mind

Well it doesn’t matter
Because Caring isn’t worth anything
Just gets you angry and everyone else angry at you

something I'm working on called Frayed and Dieing

macabreclouds — Thu, 19 May 2005 02:33:04 GMT