The Preeminent Measurement, Trends Change, Moral Superiority, To Live and Die in Heaven, and For Nate; This is How I'd Live if I Were a Good Person
The Preeminent Measurement
I want more hours in the day
More minutes and seconds too
I wish one day saw at least three moons
And sunrises weren't wedded to the amount of sunsets
Twenty four hours I fret
6 In fact, most of time is doomed
For it is dependent upon breaths new
And how many happy birthday's you can say
I fear that time doesn't measure productivity
But it only measures decay
It defines an insecurity
12 That relies upon breathing and sustenance
That never realizes the importance
Of what it means to be
Time only measures our dying day
And our fear of that activity
Restricted by time's scope
18 And its dim valuation
All those minutes that felt like weeks
The hours of fun that passed like milliseconds
Only dispute time's essence
Time is weak
And can only be useful in measuring deterioration
24 I understand why we tell time, I hope
Trends Change
I've been trending down
For a long fucking time now
I am still falling
Moral Superiority
I'm sure that I'm right
And you know that you are wrong
Are days black or light?
To Live and Die in Heaven
Only Angel's here
Los Angeles is Heaven
Only Angel's here
Kindness
"Can I borrow some change? Please, can you lend me some change?" said the homeless man.
I told the man, "Ask me again."
"Can I borrow some change, please? Please, I beg your generosity, can you lend me some change?"
"You aren't asking the right question. Please, sir ask me the question again and tell me what you truly want from me."
"Forget it, you fucking asshole!"
"I'm the asshole? You asked to borrow some change, to borrow money knowing your inability to pay me back, knowing you'd probably never see me again..."
Generosity
"I now I understand what you were asking. I apologize for calling you an asshole. I am the asshole. Can I please have some change sir? Thank you."
"No," I said as I turned my back on the homeless man and walked away.
Fairness
"Let's do something tonight, babe," your mother suggested.
I answered mirroring her vigor and anticipation, "Yes Bella, let's do something tonight," I then asked the obvious question, "What do you want to do?"
"Let's go to the movies or lets go play billiards." Both activities we love to do and love to do together.
"Why can't we do both?" I told her. "Let's go to a matinee then go to a bar. We haven't been out together in a long time."
"Okay babe, that sounds like a great plan. What's out that you want to see... Uh oh. Nathaniel's crying. I think he's getting sick."
"Well, I'll see you when I get back Bella."
"Where are you going, Jonathan?" Your mother asked sternly in her angry tone, you know her angry tone.
"To the movies and to a bar to play billiards."
Humility
Nathan if there is one thing that you should know about dear old dad it's the fact that I am the greatest writer in history. My poetry is all enduring and will be studied in the world's greatest universities for centuries. I captured the time in which I live, the time in which you were born, with the utmost honesty. I captivated every reader who ever laid their eyes upon my remarkable and effulgent works. For my poems and short stories and everything else I have written have been held with the greatest esteem and will be quoted like the great works I studied from the English language's great antiquity.
Honesty
No one reads my work, Nathaniel. My work is the ramblings of an alcohol fueled, unhealed sycophant. This would be axiomatic to anyone who read my work. No one cares.
Integrity
"Do you always write what you feel?" your mother asked me once, "I mean, do you mean all of the things that you write in your poems?"
"I only write when I feel." I responded, "which just so happens to be my every waking moment. That's when truth happens... I mean it at the time I write it, otherwise I wouldn't have written it."
"I love you Jonathan," your mother said lovingly, her eyes full of hopeful despair.
"I love you too Lizette," I responded in kind, "It's true. I have it written here somewhere."
Purpose
"Jonathan can you please do this. Jonathan you need to do that. Jonathan you're not doing that correctly. Jonathan stay home. Jonathan you cannot go out with your friends. You cannot buy new clothes or shoes. You have to pay bills, and work, and listen. You have to provide now. You have to take care of your body and your mind. Stop drinking so goddamn much. No more cursing or being crude..." that's what everyone has told me.
"I'll do whatever you say," I reply.
Sensitivity
There are so many stray dogs and cats in our neighborhood. Every street that I cross from Soto to St. Louis is with an animal that doesn't have a home. "Kitty please be careful crossing the street, you too doggy. When you make it across the avenue safely there will be food and water. I am sure of it because I placed it there. You can collect energy to survive another day." How do people not care about these animals who are only victims of a society humanity created?
I can't believe this ass-fucking-hole is approaching me again. "Get the fuck out of here you bum. I told you I don't have any fucking change."
Self-Discipline
A pen and pad are left alone. They sat new and unused in the path I walked. Like an omen, the machina, the universe's way of telling me that I am to be a great writer and the only thing I have to do is commit my bad thoughts to paper... Gleefully, I kept walking.
Patience
"Nathaniel can you please stop crying? Your diaper has just been changed. Nathan you have just been fed. Nate please tell me what is wrong. Please son! I beg of you. If you don't tell me son, I can't help you. Otherwise, I'll be forced to listen to your beautiful cries all night. I can listen to your beautiful cries all night."
Forgiveness
If I show you anything you can't forgive, if I do anything you can't forgive, when you experience the horrors of your father's mind, of a man deranged. You don't have to forgive me. You can hate me for eternity. You can piss and shit on my grave and denounce my work, my life, and my worth. You can deny me and accept your conception as immaculate as predestined and ordained by a God or by a universe of chaotic possibility. Always, always, always, forgive yourself, Nathaniel please forgive yourself. And if you find it in your heart to forgive me, please note that your father has no clue what it means to be a good person.
I want more hours in the day
More minutes and seconds too
I wish one day saw at least three moons
And sunrises weren't wedded to the amount of sunsets
Twenty four hours I fret
6 In fact, most of time is doomed
For it is dependent upon breaths new
And how many happy birthday's you can say
I fear that time doesn't measure productivity
But it only measures decay
It defines an insecurity
12 That relies upon breathing and sustenance
That never realizes the importance
Of what it means to be
Time only measures our dying day
And our fear of that activity
Restricted by time's scope
18 And its dim valuation
All those minutes that felt like weeks
The hours of fun that passed like milliseconds
Only dispute time's essence
Time is weak
And can only be useful in measuring deterioration
24 I understand why we tell time, I hope
Trends Change
I've been trending down
For a long fucking time now
I am still falling
Moral Superiority
I'm sure that I'm right
And you know that you are wrong
Are days black or light?
To Live and Die in Heaven
Only Angel's here
Los Angeles is Heaven
Only Angel's here
For Nate; This is How I'd Live if I Were a Good Person
Kindness
"Can I borrow some change? Please, can you lend me some change?" said the homeless man.
I told the man, "Ask me again."
"Can I borrow some change, please? Please, I beg your generosity, can you lend me some change?"
"You aren't asking the right question. Please, sir ask me the question again and tell me what you truly want from me."
"Forget it, you fucking asshole!"
"I'm the asshole? You asked to borrow some change, to borrow money knowing your inability to pay me back, knowing you'd probably never see me again..."
Generosity
"I now I understand what you were asking. I apologize for calling you an asshole. I am the asshole. Can I please have some change sir? Thank you."
"No," I said as I turned my back on the homeless man and walked away.
Fairness
"Let's do something tonight, babe," your mother suggested.
I answered mirroring her vigor and anticipation, "Yes Bella, let's do something tonight," I then asked the obvious question, "What do you want to do?"
"Let's go to the movies or lets go play billiards." Both activities we love to do and love to do together.
"Why can't we do both?" I told her. "Let's go to a matinee then go to a bar. We haven't been out together in a long time."
"Okay babe, that sounds like a great plan. What's out that you want to see... Uh oh. Nathaniel's crying. I think he's getting sick."
"Well, I'll see you when I get back Bella."
"Where are you going, Jonathan?" Your mother asked sternly in her angry tone, you know her angry tone.
"To the movies and to a bar to play billiards."
Humility
Nathan if there is one thing that you should know about dear old dad it's the fact that I am the greatest writer in history. My poetry is all enduring and will be studied in the world's greatest universities for centuries. I captured the time in which I live, the time in which you were born, with the utmost honesty. I captivated every reader who ever laid their eyes upon my remarkable and effulgent works. For my poems and short stories and everything else I have written have been held with the greatest esteem and will be quoted like the great works I studied from the English language's great antiquity.
Honesty
No one reads my work, Nathaniel. My work is the ramblings of an alcohol fueled, unhealed sycophant. This would be axiomatic to anyone who read my work. No one cares.
Integrity
"Do you always write what you feel?" your mother asked me once, "I mean, do you mean all of the things that you write in your poems?"
"I only write when I feel." I responded, "which just so happens to be my every waking moment. That's when truth happens... I mean it at the time I write it, otherwise I wouldn't have written it."
"I love you Jonathan," your mother said lovingly, her eyes full of hopeful despair.
"I love you too Lizette," I responded in kind, "It's true. I have it written here somewhere."
Purpose
"Jonathan can you please do this. Jonathan you need to do that. Jonathan you're not doing that correctly. Jonathan stay home. Jonathan you cannot go out with your friends. You cannot buy new clothes or shoes. You have to pay bills, and work, and listen. You have to provide now. You have to take care of your body and your mind. Stop drinking so goddamn much. No more cursing or being crude..." that's what everyone has told me.
"I'll do whatever you say," I reply.
Sensitivity
There are so many stray dogs and cats in our neighborhood. Every street that I cross from Soto to St. Louis is with an animal that doesn't have a home. "Kitty please be careful crossing the street, you too doggy. When you make it across the avenue safely there will be food and water. I am sure of it because I placed it there. You can collect energy to survive another day." How do people not care about these animals who are only victims of a society humanity created?
I can't believe this ass-fucking-hole is approaching me again. "Get the fuck out of here you bum. I told you I don't have any fucking change."
Self-Discipline
A pen and pad are left alone. They sat new and unused in the path I walked. Like an omen, the machina, the universe's way of telling me that I am to be a great writer and the only thing I have to do is commit my bad thoughts to paper... Gleefully, I kept walking.
Patience
"Nathaniel can you please stop crying? Your diaper has just been changed. Nathan you have just been fed. Nate please tell me what is wrong. Please son! I beg of you. If you don't tell me son, I can't help you. Otherwise, I'll be forced to listen to your beautiful cries all night. I can listen to your beautiful cries all night."
Forgiveness
If I show you anything you can't forgive, if I do anything you can't forgive, when you experience the horrors of your father's mind, of a man deranged. You don't have to forgive me. You can hate me for eternity. You can piss and shit on my grave and denounce my work, my life, and my worth. You can deny me and accept your conception as immaculate as predestined and ordained by a God or by a universe of chaotic possibility. Always, always, always, forgive yourself, Nathaniel please forgive yourself. And if you find it in your heart to forgive me, please note that your father has no clue what it means to be a good person.
(Glencoe/Washington, Culver City, Los Angeles County, CA)
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