Raining Blood

This Vader version of Slayer’s Raining Blood is a friend of mine’s favorite. It’s good, but I prefer the original.

Now for us old guys, the original, Fuckin, Slayer!

Caroline

I talked to Caroline again tonight, even though she is half jewish, I still have quite the thing for her, and she is a good woman. Those jew gals have a way with their eyes. The point is, Caroline and I are going to give it yet one more try. She knows I just left Amber and she thinks that is finally a good thing for me. So, pain and all, it’s done, but I have my little nurse woman too.

How the fuck do I do it? I always end up with cute women and I am an asshole. I am a scoundrel again. But Caroline is a great woman, who may be able to tame me. Even though she’s a jew.

“Love Is A Lie”

My ex wife is rearing her evil cobra head again, My daughter’s mother wants a new chance and my redhead has stolen my heart. There is no true love between a man and woman, the only true love is for our children.

It makes it very hurtful but I am an 80’s child and we know all about failed relationships. Must be our generation. Us aging stoners never get it right, so there is only music, and sadness.

I’m supposed to be in Oklahoma right now, but I’m sitting in my darkened office room alone in Missouri. A couple friends came over today, and the alcohol flowed. That’s bad. But I got two poems out of it, those words of beauty and sadness may show up soon enough, but for now, a song I posted but deleted previously, Love Is A Lie, by Great White.

I need real love or fuckin kill me. Now the tune,

By the way, It’s Angie’s and Paula’s birthday, my  exwife and my first love, funny the have the same birthday and both are freaking Native Americans, no more of them. And no more millitant Irish either.

My Daughter, plus some Kreator

I talked to my little girl tonight and her mom was in the background. I told Britianny that I was coming down to Oklahoma tomorrow and she asked if Amber was coming with me. I said no 4 times, then I heard her tell her mom, “He said no like 11 times”, I love that little girl. I have to buy a copy of Sweeney Todd for her, She’s my girl, she likes the dark shit. She also is a fan of the Twilight series, I’m looking for a box set for her.

Forget my problems with her mom, she’s my little girl and her voice is just like her mother, but her soul is like mine. Dark and longing. She can sing, but this time when I go down there, I’m going to give her a guitar, I’m sure she’ll take to it, plus I get to give her lessons. Her death metal daddy will teach her the ways around the old axe, with some classical thrown in.

She is all that makes me want to be . She is my only daughter and I will do anything for her.

Now some tunes, Enemy Of God by those germans Kreator.

“Never Tear Us Apart”

I’ve had enough to drink tonight, that I think I’m a better dancer than my feet can actually do at the moment, but It’s with my woman so, it’s all in fun. Even her making fun of my missed steps. It’s interesting with alcohol, the more you drink the worse your steps get but you think it’s getting better. Luckily, I’ve got a little red head to keep my in check. And she can dance, quite well. Years of lessons tend to do that as compared to my years of drinking.

Oops, sorry, but you’ll have to click the youtube link when you try to listen to the song.

Peace, B.

She took off for an alcohol run and to grab a few things from her place and should be back soon. When she gets back, I’m going to pitch the idea of me and my choice of a second classical guitarist and a stand up bass player with her dancing to flamenco. She’s all Irish and no latino, but god damn she can dance to some flamenco like you wouldn’t believe. Plus I have several  new songs written with a flamenco guitar as rhythm and me laying it out hard and heavy on lead and unlike my dancing, I can play when I’ve had too many. Like I’ve mentioned before, the minor harmonic scales are simply magical and you can do anything with them and go anywhere from them.

Anyway, I’m going to play some Irish tunes when she gets back, and see if I can get those tiny legs of hers going, then I’ll pitch the idea. But for now though, a song that may have been posted last spring for her, but it still holds the same feel for me. INXS, Never Tear Us Apart. Enjoy,

My woman, best friend, and soon rhythm guitarist.

We had dinner at Amber’s place tonight, but came back here to my house because I have an early morning doctor appointment and no longer have any nice cloths at Amberella’s. She going with me in the morning. I got sick this afternoon and regurgitated blood. That kind of scared me, so I made the dr. appointment.

Dinner was very nice, though she kept the spiciness out because of my stomach. She had some very sexy nuevo flamenco playing low and the lights were dim with candles going. Right now, she’s in my living room practicing a flamenco influenced song of mine on my classical guitar. She’s doing good too.

We’re going to get her a nice guitar and amp of her own pretty soon, and she’s going to play rhythm to my lead. I’m trying to line up some other players, a bass and drummer. It’ll be pretty much an instrumental project, maybe a few back ground vocals, but mainly just the music without lead vocals. The plan is sort of a metal/flamenco fusion. It works surprising well. Better than many would think.

Anyway, It’s time to go grab a guitar and play with my Amberella some. I don’t know what I’d do without that little woman. Musicians are easy to find, but a woman like her is a treasure, faults and all a treasure. Her dad plays too, but not quite my style. I did however write an Irish styled tune for him a few months back, and he and his pals love it.

A Moment of Bliss.

Just a quick, but maybe steamy poem for that sexy red head who holds my heart and soul.

A Moment of Bliss.

It is the taste of your skin,

a nectar divine.

As body heat mingles,

Yours and mine.

It is with those lips,

and those sacred hips,

love meets fruition

and souls entwine.

It is the way you move,

inside I quiver.

Joined together,

an ecstasy glows and shines,

and sparkles and shimmers.

Catholic school, top sider’s and those plaid skirts.

I told a friend of mine a story from when I was in Catholic school today. Apparently I had never mentioned to him about going to Catholic school. He told me that explains me always wearing top sider’s and nice shirts. Sometimes the nice shirts are just over shirts and have a tee shirt with screaming skulls or something like that and the occasional old Iron Maiden tee shirt and every now and then a commie tee shirt. I need an I.R.A. tee shirt.

That’s one of the many things Amber and I have in common, being subjected to Catholic school. Not the same one though. I grew up and was schooled in Florida and then Denver. She was brought up in the church here in Springfield. Plus, when I was a senior, she was in 3rd grade. That would have made me a pervert had we known each other then.

My nephew in Jacksonville is now in Catholic school and doesn’t like it. He’s thirteen, soon enough he’ll start to appreciate those green and black plaid skirts the gals have to wear. I did. Amber picked up a red and black school girl uniform from a nice little shop here in town and I like it. She showed it off to me today before she went to work and for some reason ended up being late too work. Oops.

Now though, she’s having to make up the time, so she’ll be over here late. I hope she isn’t too tired to put that little uniform on again.

Maybe a poem shortly.

…or something like that.

Getting away for a week or so was a needed refreshment from the shitstorm I call my life. When I left, Amber and I were in limbo, but she called me every night and we talked a lot. It was like a chance to reintroduce ourselves to each other and move past some baggage.

Now I’m back home and have my Amber at my side again. We had tried to hook up a friend of hers with a friend of mine, total opposites. It didn’t pan out but in the process, we got each other back so it worked for the best in an unintended way.

I feel so alive when I’m with her. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, she makes me whole, and with out her I am lost and dangerous to my own soul, in many indulgent ways. I don’t know if that’s a bad sign to have that 180 flip with and without her or not, but that’s life. I live by my heart.

Before Amber, I had fallen into living by lust and over indulgence. I’m still quite indulgent in many ways, alcohol and pills, but not so much that it’s self destructive anymore. She fills a void that neither my ex wife, nor the mother of my daughter in Oklahoma, nor any other of my loves has ever filled. Her almost 30 and me nearing 40, but we’re both very free and young when we’re together.

It is like the flaming wings of the rising double headed pheonix wrapping and embracing the falling dove. There’s a poem in that line that might show up tomorrow. For now it’s time to end this and go back to bed next to my soul mate, or something sappy like that.

Her Kiss

Just a little poem of love and surrender, for my little redhead.

Her Kiss

It is below Mother night’s sweet and shadowed shelter,

that she calls to me.

Safely within her web.

It is with the most sensual strumming of desire’s softest strung chord,

played upon an instrument so sweet,

her heart, her soul.

It is the sweeping satiety of love laughing, smiling,

as we frolic through the falling leaves,

Autumn’s sedating surrender.

It is the taste of those sweet lips,

heaven’s glory as I slide and slip willfully into that magic sensation,

coursing, surging,

from her kiss.