Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in David Blythe Guerrero's LiveJournal:

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Thursday, May 8th, 2008
5:32 pm	Op-Ed Piece for Democratic Senatorial Candidate in TX . 'Glory Days' The muse for writing, even when politically writing, can have a sense of irony. I've taken days trying to muster the inspiration and energy to write something for this newsletter and for all the kind persons taking a few moments to read, while on half-doses of a basic medication because I can't afford to refill it till next payday, so am trying to make it stretch. I'm a type-one diabetic since age 4 and since developed a couple of other endocrine issues, so it can add up. It seems we've all been asked to do a lot of stretching these last few years, well seven to eight of them to be more precise. One of my best friends considers himself a republican - but he's never voted that way and he is mid aged as well, because the last dew decades of republicans do not actually represent smaller government, they represent larger especially when it comes to the bureaucratic machineries needed to fight unpopular and unneeded wars and to diminish both personal and most business rights in the name of 'security.' The tax cuts they falsely preach are meant only for the richest 1 to 6% of Americans, and if you are reading this, the odds are that is not you. In fact, odds are, neither is your boss nor anyone you've ever met. Republicans whether we are speaking of McCain or of the many senators and house representatives on both state and federal levels, tend to speak of a return to the glory days of Reaganomics. That frightens me, for one it is naive, a number of production and service basics have shifted since then, it would take a lot of tariff adjustments to even begin to make it conceivable. More importantly, who's glory are we speaking of? Yes even middle income and some poorer Americans got slight increases in pay over that eight years, about 1% worth. While billionaires became multi-billionaires and the less-honest ones eventually collapsed themselves and whole corporations and hundreds of thousands of innocents from employees to stockholders. It's kind of like saying let's return the US to the 'glory days' of Attila the Hun. And while the then biggest deficit of all time (no longer thanks to our current Republican president) was created, there was still no room for medical insurance for uninsured and whole states lost funding for their tax-helped mental hospitals, making an overnight homeless issue that still haunts us, and embarrasses us the world over, today. So don't let anyone you know vote Republican if you can help it. Friends don't let friends drive the country like a drunken Valdez-esque battleship headed for Hell (and especially not in the names, and names only, of God and Family). Let's really protect our families. Let's protect wages, the economy and help slowly but surely build some form of national healthcare since we are the only industrialized country on the Earth without one. If we want to return the country to glory days, how about the ones we nearly all agree on? (I hear from business person after business person both medium and small and many Republicans who say "I have to admit, Clinton's years were the best I ever had.") So come November, let's support Tom Love and all his fellow Democrats and finally remember that Democracy is not a dirty word. And while we're at it, let's see about bringing down these inflated/gouging gas prices, that have affected all from food to meds, so next time I am asked to throw my two cents in, I'll still have them (and all my needed medicine too). -David B. Guerrero Grand Prairie, TX Democrat Current Mood: awake (Comment on this)
Wednesday, March 5th, 2008
8:42 pm	Poem - Shadows Plague (yes this is also way down here already, but I love this one) . Shadows' Plague In society's beginning Mankind grew and lived And talked to one another There were problems and even wars But men, women and children knew their neighbors And looked out for one another And it was good But created in His image Man also created a world Two dimensional, but oh-so entertaining An endless stream of pleasing images and sounds And the beast became a habit in time Even a center of daily life And it was less good And while many lamented the decline of reading While others began to blame crime and chaos on the types of shows presented And even its advertisements, which made man want ever more goods and services, And more and more entertainment, Nearly all missed the true teeth of the beast Even though they showed brightly, in ever-increasing clarity And with Dolby Surround sound It isn't what's being watched that's the worst effect It's that the beast has captivated its audience And is so often being watched Our lenses have been entranced, spellbound By the false world we've created In time, neighbors became strangers And strangers became annoyances And mankind watched and watched its creation Its new god, its isolating beast Ever puzzling why Life seemed emptier and emptier While the beast preached all we need Is ever more entertainment and products- From headphone walkmans to portable arcade games, Even more cutting man off from most of our brothers and sisters A mass psychosis tiptoed into society Unnoticed Despite the blaring Dolby Surround And oh-so-pleasing images And the great beast lied Preaching a doctrine of fear The coverage of crimes both real and imagined Seeped into man's mind And made us ever more fearful Why risk getting to know one's neighbors- When for all we know- He might be a rapist, murderer or terrorist? While the true terrorist is watched In nearly reverent glee Humans are social creatures We were not meant to be cut off in a sea of entertainment The beast's biggest problem, Its weapon of mass media destruction, Is not so much what is on the television- It is that the television is always on We created a false universe, Invited it into our homes, And let it suck the life from us like a vampire We let our creation reshape our world in its image Its oh-so captivating images As we sit comfortably in its light Shadows casting shadows Somehow not noticing We've been amused to death -David Blythe Guerrero June 10th 2004 Current Mood: accomplished (Comment on this)
Tuesday, March 4th, 2008
10:45 am	one of my Lisa poems, somewhere I have at least 3 more of these, but I do rather like this one: TIME It has taken years For someone to make writing a necessity again For it to be easier than not writing For it to become an oh-so-needed release I should have known all along The inspiration Could only be You My shadow lady of dazzling brilliance My hidden light and inspiration My very best friend and always my greatest want The one-who-got-away Yet came back, still loving A love for years I simply could not see as returned For I was too overwhelmed by my feelings To see in both subtlest of conveyances And boldest of statements You did in fact love me as well (As if either of us had much choice) The mother of "my" children Not biologically But who truly feel like "home" to me And as always, As do you But fear was my dream killer, my destroyer of worlds Yet time, if read as regret, is unneeded A mere annoyance to be banished For the present, while still less then my fullest dream Is too full of joy to not relish in For yes I would adore being beside you each night And to provide for you and the kids But even as one another's shadows We are dazzling together Dazzling I adore your multifacetedness No jewel, human or otherwise Could ever be as beautiful For every new side you reveal to me I dance into love with as well I cherished holding you as you fell asleep from exhaustion, Simply waiting for some appointment And how everyone there had mistaken us for husband and wife And the sparkle in your eyes that followed as you told me you needed this moment I adore watching you sleep at home - and waking you - As I love the slight touch of your hand, or your smile Or your still-annoyed but gracious acceptance when I apologize for some mistake I adore the respect you show me and hope you know it is indeed returned And I am honored how you wear the jewelry I have given to you And by the feeling of your arms around me, Simple but so very warm hugs Another form of your magic Most basically put - I adore every moment of time I spend with you For I truly do love you Lisa With you, there is no time Except, when you choose to wield it, "Lisa time" No mere wood nymph are you at heart You are a goddess of time There is only you and the kids and myself and a feeling of incredible rightness Time itself is replaced With timeless joy This - is love Current Mood: accomplished Current Music: Rush (Comment on this)
8:49 am	(poem) . Women The family descended from Eve Women can be so dirty being good And so good being dirty It is not so hard to understand How they are both man-kind's greatest gift and curse Though I think more gift I nearly worship them, But worship is not quite the right word Although I have been known to prostate myself, in awe Of both design and execution Of God's direct work On one of his better days -David Blyhte Guerrero 6-26-2004 dedicated to Traci and a certain other of my acquaitance on one of my better days Current Mood: accomplished Current Music: Rush in Rio (Comment on this)
Saturday, March 1st, 2008
6:28 pm	(poem) The Politics of Fear . Once Upon A Time, there was a little boy. His daddy couldn't spend enough time with him His daddy was very important His daddy often seemed worried about all the big important things in the world, That it was his job to keep an eye on. And the boy became very afraid of the 'big bad world.' So afraid that when it was his chance to serve his country He had daddy place him somewhere safer Despite not having the grades to qualify for the reserves he entered. And he spent the rest of his college days Coked out of his mind Running from shadows Avoiding the big bad world. Then oneday, the boy tried to grow up, and face his fears Becoming a governer first And remarkably ran for president He posed for the cameras, flexing his muscles Showing how tough he'd become He did interview after interview Promising to bomb the heck of the country whose leader "tried to kill my daddy." Even more remarkably, this troubled lil' lad became the president (they always said *anyone* could grow up to be) Now week after week He takes his place before the cameras Telling us what to be afraid of now: Stem cells, sinners, bird flu, yellow alerts, The United Nations, the Geneva Convention, activists, terrorists, Debate, dissent, Democrats, difference, Free speech, free thought, propaganda-less freedom, Liberals, muslims, the working class, orange alerts, India, Iran, Iraq, insurgents, and immigrants Basically anyone different from himself- A scared lil' boy wrapped in the security blanket Of other people's children, serving as his soldiers Trying to keep his paranoia at bay using the lives of others as his shield. Roosevelt was right- 'There is nothing to fear - but fear itself' -and the very, very afraid. (C) 10-9-2006 David Blythe Guerrero Current Mood: busy (Comment on this)
Monday, December 31st, 2007
6:05 pm	(poem) The Past . The Past There is no use complaining about the past It can't hear you It's moved on -David Blythe Guerrero (C) 10-07-2006 Current Mood: contemplative (Comment on this)
Sunday, December 30th, 2007
7:53 am	The American Drea.. (a poem) . The American Dream Has been cancelled Due to lack of participation by corporate America Thank you for playing.. See terms and conditions for details And speaking of terms You must continue to play as if you believe in the dream Else risk being arrested as a subversive A transient Or worse yet, a welfare case And speaking of conditions Expect less return for your efforts for corporate America With each passing year You must believe in the dream For the dream believes in you In your cooperation In your providing its sustenance Individually- you're meaningless to the dream But it requires the energy of millions of others like you For its very survival As you require the next paycheck The next tidbit thrown your way The dream never meant to become a nightmare But as its generosity was nickled and dimed away So it became Wage slaves And a system enslaved to the efforts of its wage slaves Mutually powaqaatsi Mutually vampiric in nature Slow mutual destruction Now that the dream has become a nightmare It is surely time to wake up -David B. Guerrero (C) 08-19-2006 Current Mood: awake Current Music: none (Comment on this)
Thursday, November 15th, 2007
5:59 am	Learn to Dance . Learn to Dance The only downside To being such a multifaceted jewel my friend Is as some become entranced Falling "in love" with a single side They can become estranged or even enraged As new facets are presented Somehow failing to perceive The beauty and magnificent complexity Of the whole glorious creation P.S. - I Love You People should learn to dance -David Blythe Guerrero 3/31/2004 (Comment on this)
Tuesday, April 17th, 2007
10:22 pm	Poem attempt/ramblings of the day The Uninvited Guest Death visited again this week Aaahz/Eric is gone No knock No waiting for an invitation Relentless and cold Random yet not Paradoxical And wrong, except in that it's an undeniable part of the circle But I do not have to like it How did the bastard get our addresses.. When we're only in our fourties The son-of-a something humanly-incomprehensible Does not play fair I am disturbed, rattled, sad And lonely Lonely beyond belief As at least with all other visits these last 6 years I've had someone else to help hold together A very best friend whose life overlapped my own in so many ways But her life has turned away from mine There is quality when we do spend time But much times between And despite her insistence on the social aspects these past few years Now that is what is missing the most So once again my ex wins the game of possession That I long ago quit playing For now it seems I've more lost my lil bit than not So all that remains is a shadow of my shadow So rather than helping to hold her together during this new loss that hit her even harder I am Captain Duncell Superfulous and alone Alone in this loss - And very very lonely I will miss you Aaahz But miss even more when this crowd cared for one another And didn't play games that should not be played One by one, the players leave the field And I remain Feeling each loss Alone with my thoughts The cursed immortal wandering jew is dead, Long live his replacement Equally cursed for having once cursed God Long live the wandering Kabbalist For I still have people to watch grow up.. No matter how far pushed away And people to protect And the hopefull knowledge that someday it will be appreciated again I was I am And still I will be But it is lonely when there is no one who knows the history To simply hang with and talk with And such losses should not be taken alone 4-17-2007 David Blythe Guerrero Current Mood: lonely (Comment on this)
Friday, May 12th, 2006
10:39 am	Reaped (a poem) I turn the corner And you're not there again Never more shall you be, Nevermore can you be And that hurts beyond belief Unyielding loss Unyielding reality Simple, painful, grief Death is so constant And grants so few exceptions I hate you with a passion exceeding any reserved, For any ex-lover in all of history Death - You take and you do not give You are cruel, relentless And you never go away I pray I am done with your visits for a while You I have seen too much of It's my friends, my family members, and even my little grey tabby princess that I miss, and miss some more And when I go home tonight, And round the corner into the bedroom When I instinctively look Around that next corner towards the next room I will hate you with all my heart again For now, after all the others these last few years You've taken my Dazzle cat Who greeted me so warmly and lovingly my every return For some seventeen or eighteen years And when these absences hurt my heart so greatly I want to curl up and die, I'll at least find a smile, For denying you that satisfaction, once again -David Blythe Guerrero May 12, 2006 Current Mood: blank (Comment on this)
Thursday, February 2nd, 2006
4:12 am	(Poem, old) Hell On Earth . Hell on Earth It has occurred, perhaps to most of us That Heaven and Hell could be parables For the state of one's mind and spirit on Earth If you choose to be happy, this is Heaven If you choose dark despair, this is Hell There is some truth to this wisdom Worth taking a little further The fallen angels are no demons - Who strive to mislead us from their shadowy realm - But humanity itself, fallen from God's grace The parables of Eden, and of Lucifier's fall, The casting out of the radical angels, Are the same. To put it oh-so simply - This is Hell Yet this is no cause for the abandonment of hope The movement toward redemption, and the very promise of Heaven Are as real in this context, if not more so, than before Many have found it hard to believe their fate can be judged by a forgiving God In the space of a single lifetime, a brief spark upon our planet To be followed by eternal reward or eternal damnation For what parent could condemn his children to never-ending pain? Since the humanity's fall, we are born first into damnation Led by selfish wants and desires, oblivious to higher goals Without guidance, the earthly realm is a place of "eternal" torment Which will not end until the moment of redemption A redemption not provided soley by acceptance of a savior But acceptance of the lessons many saviors tried to teach That we accept a higher purpose, and choose to be fallen no more Did the Christ want to be followed? Or for his example to be? He showed it possible to be so united with God's guidance and purpose That death itself became unimportant, and unlasting The example was drastic, but it needed to be permanent The Christ did show a way to Heaven But the centuries have obscured the message The way is to accept him not as savior But as teacher, as a wayshower And to take his lesson to heart To follow the following of one's purpose, under God's guidance The way to the promised land is the acceptance of the plan Which can not be given, like rules, by another It is given by asking for guidance And to listen to the small still voice within Earth will become the promised Heaven When this acceptance becomes more the rule than the exception In the meantime... Welcome to Hell. -David Blythe Guerrero October 17, 1989 (Comment on this)
Thursday, October 27th, 2005
11:10 am	The Year of Fading Lights (poem) The Year of Fading Lights Another voice silences Another light fades And as I start to grapple With the disquieting knowledge That I am becoming an elder in my world Another library of knowledge Fades into eternity Goodbye Marie-Elena, long-gone Daddy's lil sis I may not have seen you often But you are already truly missed How can so much time pass In the merest blink of an eye? While my interview suit has found its new purpose For Funeral after funeral these last twelve months Funeral after funeral Attended and unattended, Funeral after funeral And one never truly held Fish, Mayhem, Wendy, Verbie, Jean-Elizabeth, Glen, Peggy My eyes grow ever heavier, In a blur of one-at-a-times- I begin to run out of goodbyes -David Blythe Guerrero (C) October, 2005 Current Mood: morose Current Music: prog rock (Comment on this)
Thursday, August 18th, 2005
9:37 pm	Angels Demonized There are no true demons- Only pissed-off angels Sick of feeling pissed-on Having lost their way Their direction And for a moment, their purpose Having forgotten To turn another cheek yet another time -David Blythe Guerrero 8-18-2005 Current Mood: artistic (Comment on this)
Tuesday, October 12th, 2004
7:39 pm	Poem: The Fog The Fog The Blueblack fog creeps in Triggered by as little as need of sleep Final straw to the constant chaos and drama But once set in, pervasive All consuming Deadly Cousin to fear Destroyer of worlds Haunting like twin ghosts- What I could have been And all I have become All that's made me who I am Every mistake, every bad choice Ensnared in traps self set long ago Locations long forgotten, yet ever-ready to spring Wounding ever-so-teasingly-close to mortally Yet even that escape, disallowed Suffering that simply will not end Make it stop make it stop make it STOP And as I pray for the zillionth time today To that son-of-a-God Known for forgiveness and loving acceptance That we've been promised exists As we were once promised the Easter Bunny, the tooth fairy, And Santa Claus It occurs to me, perhaps we've been had That God's indeed all-knowing, omniscent, all powerfull And most definitely omnipresent and inescapable But closer to vindictative then forgiving And as HIS servants prod me with pitchforks for the zillionth time, Not as familiarly-portrayed demonic beasts of evil But as correctors, simply trying to direct us back onto the path Each prod a little more painful the further from the path one has strayed I realize that as every choice I make receives another jab I've apparently strayed too far And can't find my way back I'm being hit from all directions And there is no longer even a signpost up ahead And as the fog penetrates deeper Fucking (-over) my mind Removing any lingering traces of hope, and innocence I realize how badly I just want to make it stop And why evil is spelled as it is Simply the reverse of live So relying on reliable last straws I pull back Detach To invoke the voice of control Yet find even it mute Proving it's just a creation-adaptation And not something higher-connected as I once hoped So again I ask for Jesus to come into my heart, take my hand, and guide me Heart's door never intentionally closed, and besides it should be easy to find a way through such gaping holes Yet silence Is all that pervades On that line as well And I am, alone And so incredibly tired And since there is only one voice now In this oh-so-damned head I want nothing more Then to make it stop too Yet my lungs just keep breathing from habit Though death, insanity, or any reasonable way out Is all I seek 10/12/2004 David Blythe Guerrero Current Mood: depressed Current Music: none (Comment on this)
Thursday, September 9th, 2004
5:44 pm	*poem* Game Over GAME OVER Sometimes you realize you are getting really depressed And you get tired of waiting for the next time good things will happen To you, your household, your loved ones, anyone Just waiting, and waiting As more and more dreams become deferred to the point of abandoning ship And you find yourself more alone Even in your own head's space And you notice the throbbing in your left arm In the lump that used to be content to not grow and not hurt But is doing both nicely now, thank you And you wonder if all the darned sleep-dreams of the house you grew up in Are just trying to tell you it's ok to give up now, Go ahead, be the failure you were always expected to be And come on home No need for trying to make dreams come true Yours or any others No need to see your familys safe and well It may never happen, and you're not helping much to move it that way anyway No longed for/needed/required one child of your own Nothing Not a thing Not a blessed thing We're all sick to death of lemonade around here boys And now all life's giving me is a towel And beckoning me to a home that no longer exists So that I have a place to throw it in And the saddest thing of it all to me, Is that if I knew someone would at least be up there to take it from me, And say winning isn't everything, You played a good game, It's been a while, but make yourself home again. And offered me an ice tea, diet coke, mint julip or whatver they serve that day On the intro-to-afterlife's drink specials menu Appropriate to early-ariving losers If I knew there'd be at least a warm pat on the back And someone of authority saying it will be all right I'd go tonight. -David Blythe Guerrero 9-9-2004 Current Mood: distressed Current Music: none (Comment on this)
Sunday, June 13th, 2004
8:45 am	Shadows' Plague (poem) Shadows' Plague In society's begining Mankind grew and lived And talked to one another There were problems and even wars But men, women and children knew their neighbors And looked out for one another And it was good But created in His image Man also created a world Two dimensional, But oh-so entertaining An endless stream of pleasing images and sounds And the beast became a habit in time Even a center of daily life And it was less good And while many lamented the decline of reading While others began to blame crime and chaos on the types of shows presented And even its advertisements, Which made man want ever more goods and services, And more and more entertainment, Nearly all missed the true teeth of the beast Even though they showed brightly in ever-increasing clarity And with Dolby Surround sound It isn't what's being watched that is the worst effect It's that the beast has captivated its audience And is so often being watched Our lenses have been entranced, spellbound By the false world we've created In time, neighbors became strangers And strangers became annoyances And mankind watched and watched its creation Its new god, its isolating beast Ever puzzling why Life seemed emptier and emptier While the beast preached all we need Is ever more entertainment and products From headphone walkmans to portable arcade games Even more cutting man off from most of our brothers and sisters A mass psychois tiptoed into society Unnoticed Despite the blaring Dolby Surround And oh-so-pleasing images And the great beast lied Preaching a doctrine of fear The coverage of crimes both real and imagined Seeped into man's mind And made us ever more fearful Why risk getting to know one's neighbors When for all we know He might be a rapist, murderer or terrorist? While the true terrorist Is watched in nearly reverent glee Humans are social creatures We were not meant to be cut off in a sea of entertainment The beast's biggest problem, Its weapon of mass media destruction, Is not so much what is on the television It is that the television is always on We created a false universe Invited it into our homes And let it suck the life from us like a vampire We let our creation reshape our world in its image Its oh-so captivating images As we sit comfortably in its light Shadows casting shadows Somehow not noticing We've been amused to death -David Blythe Guerrero June 10th 2004 (Comment on this)
Friday, April 2nd, 2004
5:43 am	Failure Perceived Something's not right my friend I've developed what I used to call a Wurm An inescapable thought Invading and pervading my thoughts External at the start But having wormed its way in deep I feel like a failure And I wonder if God took me off this world tomorrow Would there have been any point to my having existed? Would my presence here have been of any benefit? Or have I truly failed at all I once hoped to perceive? From the simplest (raising a family, being a daddy) Maybe just once thought the whole growing up process, Or at least most of it To the most complex (saving the world as it were, by opening people's eyes to new possibilities, helping people become less stuck) Though God only knows which of those is truly the more complex And these thoughts pervade, Source still unknown, Worming their way through my mind Like some form of dark posession Then LB's Mary comes in and smiles, And brings me a bag of toys, And calls the green-faced animal David, and the yellow Mama, And the orange Robby, and the pink one "Me" And the little white balls still in the bag "Bubba," And plays with the bag while I make sure she's safe with it And for a moment at least, I have my answer Though I still wish I knew how to banish this wurm Or use it as motivation to better myself and the lives of all my loved ones. -David Blythe Guerrero 3/31/2004 Current Mood: okay Current Music: none (Comment on this)
Wednesday, March 17th, 2004
10:50 am	The State of Man I asked myself one day What would happen if one were to die And find the pearly gates, or better yet, something more personably pleasurable awaiting And the Angelic appearant entity, is welcoming you through Yet for some reason, Or some damned reason, Ones mind remembers that Twilight Zone episode Where the man is welcomed in to that which appears to be a perfectly set Heaven, Clouds and all Yet something doesn't feel right And he leaves it behind Only to find the real one, and be told the prior had been Hell Having passed the final test. So he asks the entity Pardon my question apparent servant of the great one But how do I know- That the father is your master, and this is not a testing temptation? Only to be cast out, for having doubted, a lack of faith Cursed like those who doubted Jesus and even the mere prophets of the Bible And to spend eternity wandering, With many others, no not alone But equally damned by their doubt Directionless But for now I merely sit here Thinking of a friend's comment After reading my prose on Earth as both Heaven and Hell Depending on the approach That he thought it was indeed Hell And that we are the rebel angels Cast out, Remembering all but the actual fall After all these aeons, still just not quite getting it Wondering whether one damned piece of fruit Whether literal or symbolic Could have damned an entire race for eternity And if that one who doubted his apparent Angelic host Looked up at the sky Thinking of that encounter Thinking of the rage, lack of humility, and sterness of this supposed Master Still wondering if that servant served the Light or the Dark Host And seeing the universe from his now ever-reversed perspective Telling himself No, I made the right choice There must be the true light somewhere A more forgiving, kinder gentler Host Day after day, night after night Waiting for some servant of a kinder entity To pat his shoulder, And reassure him the right choice had been made Generation after generation Century after Century Aeon after Aeon The state of Man "Lost not in time, lost not in space, lost in meaning" - final sentance of the Rocky Horror Picture Show Richard O'Brien, writer -David Blythe Guerrero 1-18-2004 Current Mood: accomplished Current Music: Rush (lately R & Depeche Mode are all I play) (Comment on this)
Tuesday, December 2nd, 2003
9:13 am	Death Revisited There are those occasional unannounced mornings now I would never have predicted Where mama's death is no longer an ordinary shadow But something more menacing, and more vicious And I wonder what anyone watching me would think (For these moments always happen when I'm alone) If they saw the well-taught muscles of my face Pass through a multitude of changes More then I can identify, merely feeling them from the inside And I imagine someone asking me: "How are you doing, anyway?" And my answer being simply: Four out of seven of my personalities surveyed STILL say they are happy and well-adjusted And of course, perfectly sane But- The other three feel like Linus- Having just had his blanket taken away By a gunman with the most horrific of weapons And very large teeth And of course a dark cloak And his scythe- re-holstered Brandished with a pat As if to say, "I'll be back." We are afraid We are very afraid We are very fucking afraid -David Blythe Guerrero December 1, 2003 Current Mood: depressed Current Music: None (Comment on this)
Saturday, March 15th, 2003
2:21 pm	a co-op poem, words mostly Adi-Bean's taken from an email from fellow live journal user Adi_Bean, and edited/arranged into poem by me. Ghost of The Present My mind is still besieged By what can only be called The Ghost of The Present Reminding me, Whispering in my ears, Bringing picture memories to my mind's eye Pulled from the past, overlayed on my present Provoking emotions Always threatening to overwhelm We've all had our bouts with this beast The spectre that won't leave you alone The phantom that resides within, When a relationship has ended Haunting all that you do It reminds, Points out small things, Makes us smile for a moment, Followed by cringing sadness When the realization occurs No more such fond memories will be had For this one, is truly gone The Ghost too will become A thing shackled to the past But either it won't let me go, For now, Or I won't let it leave yet Having lost so much already (2002) "Adi_Bean" / David Blythe Guerrero (Comment on this)