The Monster

Hear my words clearly because for some reason my tongue can be deceiving and at times I won’t completely say how I’m feeling.

I firmly believe that an invisible monster chases us through this life and will devour us eventually.

In our struggles to be perfect and buy more time it whispers in our ear. 

It watches our every move.

When we kill it says “ten more, good job!”

When we laugh, it frowns.

When we go to bed, it gives us nightmares.

When we’re hungry, it shows us deceptive fruit.

When we love it hates.

Sadly, I don’t see this monster, but I can feel it.

Yesterday was my birthday and I thought about all of the people that I’ve lost.

I thought about my own struggles and how many battles I’ve survived so far.

I thought about the time when I was afraid.

I thought about the battles that I was afraid to face.

I thought about the people that I couldn’t help.

Last night I noticed a car pull over on the side of the road and I could hear a small voice telling me to help.

Then I heard a logical voice telling me that he or she has weaved their own path in time, keep driving.

Finding comfort in my man cave while falling to sleep I see people dying around me and I see images of my mother fighting the monster.

I see people, just like me fighting a bad habit.

Growing older I know someday I too will have to face the beast. 

I know I will have to face my own demons.

Down to the bare bone I win some spiritual battles and I lose some and no one can feel my pain but me. I am my own vessel.

As scary as it may seem, I know eventually that I will have to face the beast and in the distance I can hear a complete stranger telling me to not be afraid.

The monster is going to chase you to your grave but the great spirit will lift you up.

“‘BRIAN!’ eventually, just like a scrapping tiger you will have to face the beast.”

Just like everyone else, eventually, you will have to face the monster.

This comprehension is turning me into a madman, it’s making me fearless.

In a cold sweat and deeply distraught, I find myself in a fight that I did not choose.

God be with me, give me the strength, I’m blinded in every direction and I have to fight this beast in the dark at times. 

I have to fight it when I’m weak, and sadly, I have to fight it when I’m alone.

The American Explosion

 My mom told me a joke before she died, she said, “Brian, if you think you’re going to be rich count your blessings.” She was so serious about the joke that she bought me a mug with each word and dollar signs on it. I often joke with my family about money when in reality I hate what greed and fame does to people so let me get to the purpose of this piece. America is a 250 year explosion of ideas that in reality has left a lot of people in court. Many U.S. citizens are still fighting over things that will probably never manifest or be resolved for what they’re actually worth. Many U.S. stars are homeless and on drugs hoping for their next royalty check. Many veterans are still fighting injuries from the country’s foundation. Sadly, this is the reality of 250 years and many American citizens either don’t care or don’t know. Presidential families have been torn apart and there are endless streams of body bags and stolen investments in the name of the American dream. I encourage you my fellow citizens, to spend time with loved ones, stress the ideas of simplistic thinking because so many Americans have passed on chasing money and fame only to be lifeless at an endless stream of lawsuits and neglect. Left in a small hotel room on drugs with their television some how stuck on a religious network reminding them that we’re all sinners searching for God’s unconditional love. Rest in peace mom, for the first time I got to celebrate Independence Day alone and it wasn’t so bad. I plan to celebrate my birthday working and thanks for teaching me that the true beauty of freedom is the explosion of ideas that emerge from just spending time with family and friends or just jotting down ideas alone in a quiet place. You were right, blessings are priceless, and fireworks are just artificial shooting stars on sale at a convenience store. Hug everyone, even your enemies because in the end you’ll find yourself alone in a room with no one to fight with and the world will go on without you only to forget that you’re human just like them. Your story will linger on for days only to be retold years later in a group setting of ordinary people searching for a hopeful place to call home.

Happy Birthday America, and Happy Birthday Brian.

Somehow a turtle island nation became the home for people from all over the world.

Bride of Fury

The day began on a hot summer day.

In the distance I could hear a bird.

That’s when my old fashion eye began to see the truth.

He hated her and as they stood at the altar giving their vows he tried to escape.

The love was real but was only true in her heart.

Not feeling the equal bond, she stabbed him in the back over and over again as blood splattered in every direction.

In the distance I heard screams.

Fire then fell from the sky as the wrath of Islam began to unfold. 

As I stood and watched I looked at my shadow only to come to the conclusion that love is a force that if unfulfilled can turn an innocent woman into a bride of fury.

After seeing what I’d just saw I took the knife from the bride and cut the wedding cake.

It was expensive.

I felt her pain so I gave her a hug and as her husband to be laid lifeless on the ground I assured her that he would never hurt another woman again.

At that moment we cut the cake and danced at the reception without him.

The End

The PARTY that lasted 250 years

As I entered the auditorium I couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that education was not simple. It was a complex sequence of events that took time to mature in a person eager to learn. At first you enter and then it evolves. After it’s all over, the champagne explodes, people get exotic and the party begins. Imagine a woman in the corner with black lingerie crawling on the floor. Friends, this PARTY didn’t begin like this, it took over 250 years so let me explain. First you had modest women. Walking around in long dresses keeping their wildness concealed. Organic orgies hidden behind wooden outhouses. Religious extremist falling over in hay fever spasms trying everything to contain the beast. Drunken slave owners falling over in black cherry pies as their wives looked into the future at Epstein files. There literally was no escape as supreme power was given to his satanic offspring. The reptilian family feasting off of lame sheep drinking the blood of their savior. If you thought the party stopped at midnight you were wrong. Sweat slowly dripped down stripping poles as dropout gambling thieves chased adorable young girls fresh off to college. Political parties were no different as intellectuals printed out money with royal subliminal messages on each corner of the specially enhanced paper. The party dripped in gold as fireworks burned the noses of little children falling to the ground in a coughing fit as a scientist sat idle studying biological warfare. In a laughing craze Mennonite pilgrims would dance with Indians only to notice something strange hanging from a tree in the nearby woods. Standing on Mount Rushmore there were so many different angles to the story and after a while there were only so many people allowed in. In a raging rant, a child screamed as a young boy played his version of a national anthem and a book from history revealed so many stories told from so many angles. Wars, wars and more wars. The PARTY never stopped. In a room filled with presidents and assassins stood a cake with 250 candles. The PARTY lasted for 250 years then a new world blew out the candles. For they kept wishing and were never satisfied, they only saw what they wanted to see and as the wings from an eagle blocked the sun a dead snake fell to the ground. The war was over, everyone went back home and the PARTY souvenirs went with them. Waking up the next morning from a hangover they heard a small voice ask them, “What was the point?”

The PARTY that lasted 250 years.

Happy Father’s Day

 I just made it out of the storm, I’m still alive.

“What do men do in times of the storm?” I ask God.

“What do men do in good times?”

“Where do we go when we’ve lost our way?”

“Whom do we talk to when we’re left for dead or have to be brave enough to face the beast alone?”

“Where do I put my dirty bowl and spoon when I have no wife?”

I just tripped over my toolbox.

“Where do I go when I need direction?”

“Where do I go when I need a word?”

“Where do I go to learn a lesson?”

“Where do I go when the world is caving in and I don’t have the strength to save it?”

“Where do I go to make the world better?”

I go to the Father.

The Wild, Wild, West

The truth is that I don’t know what came over me.

I awoke the next day from a snapping fit and I don’t know why.

One moment I’m calm, the next I’m screaming fighting to get my way.

I didn’t like being told what to do, how to feel, what to wear or how to think.

I sat in a quiet room and for some reason the noise just kept following me.

Even when I wanted peace it would never manifest.

Some force wants me to be wild and crazy and I don’t know where it’s coming from.

While walking in the park on a quiet day here comes the beast raging and barking. Honestly, I was just walking.

While sitting in a room trying to save money, here comes the debt.

While being quiet and relaxed, here comes the argument.

I’ve come to ration that even the logical thinkers don’t make sense.

Lights on a plug, shoes on a wire, and a lake filled with toxic waste on a solar farm.

On a hot sunny day the wild fever hits the youth and some are lucky to come out alive.

When hanging out with family and friends it doesn’t take long before someone throws a fit.

It’s like fireworks on the 4th of July.

Even while studying for a degree, a live wire shocks someone in the room and the tuition goes higher.

The student drops dead after receiving the medical bill.

Guns blazing in wood shop class.

Crosses burning at church.

Mass shootings.

Packed prisons.

Cowboys, Indians, former slaves and a ship filled with people migrating searching for a place to call home, I had no clue it would be this difficult.

Treading water in a sea of dead presidents, honestly I was lost.

In a struggle for FREEDOM every day;

I’d been birthed into the Wild, Wild, West.

I’d learned to love it, it became a part of me.

On a mission to get some rest I’d felt a spark lighting my fire.

I couldn’t sleep and I’d just spent an entire day in the Wild…

The Wild, Wild, West

I’ve caught the FEVER, I’ve got the FEELING, and when I try to hide, it finds me.

There’s no escape.

What I Remember

I remember enlisting with a goal to make myself and the world better.

I remember seeing the towers fall and wanting answers.

At age 17 and 18 for the first time in my life I felt like I was apart of something bigger. I felt needed, I felt the urge to be a hero.

Witnessing the cause and effects of war I became a life long victim.

I grew to hate it.

Sitting in a hospital room exhausted and out of my mind I started to think about what being a human being meant. I developed a relationship with God and I asked for help.

I was lonely, very lonely, and I was afraid.

I recalled seeing people that I grew up with on television.

Seeing this, I became inspired.

I was now motivated to never take a day in life for granted. 

Each day became a page in my own story. A cycle that would maybe motivate someone in the same position.

As I got better, I now saw life differently.

I’d been changed, learning a valuable lesson about what it means for everyone seeking a better life.

I became a part of the enlisted story within the walls of combat fighting for freedom.

My eyes were open to a bigger picture of the world.

In a mind still clueless, I served as a pawn on a chess board filled with warlords and wild beast eager to gain power and improve their position.

My purpose in life evolved around taking orders while learning to think for myself.

At this moment in time, I learned to never forget each passing moment.

Seeing things from my own angle;

Now comprehending and fully conscious, I now understand why I must remember.