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

[ << Previous 20 ]
Wednesday, March 11th, 2015
3:22 pm
Eye of the Deathstorm
Eye of the Deathstorm

I am only 52, as of just yesterday
Both grandfathers died before my parents met
Both grandmothers and an uncle before I was 9
Daddy at eleven
Since then, most since 2000:
My remaining uncle, my remaining aunt, and mama
Then one of my oldest friends
And other less-close friends both before and after
Now this past year, Jason, my oldest and best friend,
Going all the way back to middle school, who was a year younger than me.
"Why does it happen? Because it happens, roll the bones"- Rush/Neil Peart.
And while I know in my mind, and centers of logic, none had to do with me
My heart still screams that I stand in a swirl of whirling blades,
A hideous deathstorm all around me, and while I can't be the cause,
I am certainly the eye-
The eye of a deathstorm
(Horizon to horizon - every dream to a ru-in
Falls like sand of an hourglass, by the grain)
"Washed away like footprints in the rain
In a vapor trail"

"Horizon to horizon, memory written on the wind
Fading away like an hourglass, grain by grain
Swept away like voices in a hurricane
In a vapor trail
In a vapor trail
In a vapor trail
In a vapor trail"
".."-from Vapor Trail by Rush/Neil Peart; with the(..) an obvious paraphrase of same sentiment
Thursday, July 17th, 2014
2:23 pm
Back To The Present (Time-Illusion 2)
as the first lacked eloquence, ironically it was more a self-note to resume work later

Back To The Present

Everything always happens now

When I was young
I was promised a shining future
All I keep getting
Is more now, now, now

The past is a twisted, grated memory
No more real than a faded lithograph
With missing corners

The future's an unpredictable surprise guest
Who's always still on the way
A flying dutchman
Doomed to never make land

All we foresee, plan and remember -
We see and remember now

'Do you want to make God laugh? Tell him about your plans'

Time is the greatest illusion
Everything happens now

It is all
Always has been, always will be
Now is all there is


(C) 7-17-2014 David Blythe Guerrero (except the make God laugh sentence, I have seen on the internet uncredited for years but on further checking it is Woody Allen's).

Current Mood: mildly happy
Monday, April 15th, 2013
10:55 pm
Timeillusion
Time is the greatest illusion
Everything always happens now
All we experienced
We experienced in the now
All we forsee, plan and remember -
We see and remember now
All that will occur will occur when then is now
Everything always happens now
Always has
Always will
Now is all there is
Friday, June 18th, 2010
1:46 pm
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
Monday, May 8th, 2006
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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