Plain Old Blog

Wow ... have not posted anything since January. Can't hardly believe it. I'm logged in direct to the "post" dock. Slamming it in the main vein. Shooting form the hip. Rambling freestyle. No ho's barred! I mean holds, excuse me. Putting the boots to it in the corner.

WCPE (Raleigh-Durham, NC) is pledging hard this morning. They must have taken a whole fist full of tribulus terrestris. The blood is pulsing. They've got their veiny cock thrust across the internet airwaves! Give us money! Support classical music! Music is mind control. Sex is the magic wand. The unfortunate thing is that they keep playing gregorian chants. I'm not a big fan. I don't hate this form of music. It just doesn't help me write. It helps me not in anything ... hahaha! Except maybe doing triangle push ups. It makes walking to the mail box seem more epic.

Why am I associating sex with classical music? It makes no sense. Must be the slow, Sunday sand spread out across the Mojave desert. It has seeped into my skull until my dopamine pathways are filled with dirt. The synapses can't fire. Just now, I got a text from my buddy in Cinny, Ohio. He was partying with all barrels firing last night in Indy. Got high as all hell on this medical marijuana called Death Star. Him and his pals were also hitting this other killer bud (according to him) called the Green Wookie. Some street grade shit that makes you feel all "hairy." You might even bust out with that Chewbacca scream after the first bong hit. The whole point of his evening was to attend a Pirates of the Carribean Live Orchestra Concert. Enhance the experience, perhaps? I don't know. One must assume. I didn't get all the details yet. Some heavy rum drinking was mixed into the equation. He drove across the state line this morning on two hours of sleep feeling extremely green and hairy. I guess that is the type of thing law enforcement is accustom to in Indiana. Manic-wheel-gripping-hairy-green-fuckers in dark shades with extremely high BAC's barreling down the 74 at Harrison in the wee hours of the morning. Making a last ditch attempt at salvaging their employment status. He made it to work. The man is a true warrior! A breed of human the likes of which I rarely encounter.

Man, I remember a very precarious position of the same circumstance that I was involved in. I was going the opposite way though. This was back in 2005? Anyway, I was partying with the aforementioned friend. It was the weekend that speedway Ron closed up the gas station and mini mart in Loveland, Ohio at 11:00 p.m. Told all the customers that the filing station was closing. Going out of business. That was it! No mas! He was off to Florida to test time travel portals. Some top secret NASA shit. My buddy, my then girlfriend from Chicago, and myself bought a 24 pack of Bud and helped him lock the door.

I got gas there the next morning. Apparently the Speedway corporate office didn't get the memo about the branch closure! I was driving a rented Chevy Impala and I was extremely hungover, sleep deprived and disoriented. I had to be at Chicago O'hare that evening to catch my flight back to Palm Springs. It was a mad dash West then North in the middle of December with snow covering the land and black ice laid invisible across the asphalt. It was a true test of endurance. Both physical and mental. I remember when I got over the state line into Indiana I pulled over at a rest stop. Went inside to drop a load and fell asleep on the toilet! My girlfriend was pissed! To a large degree! I don't think she ever forgave me. Oh, well. D.J., if your out there, I am sorry ... really baby.

By a mother-trucking wing and a prayer I persevered and made my flight. I don't think I managed to drop my girlfriend off at her house though. She lived way up on the Northside, almost to Evanston, and I was in a hurry. She had to take the L-train home from O'Hare. Which is like an hour or so ride on the train. With all her luggage and shit. Total dick move on my behalf. No wonder the gentler species hates me!

Really though, not much of a "night-lifer" these days. My Saturday evening (last night) was about as eventful as nothing. I laid in bed in my underwear watching Keira Knightley in the motion picture Domino. I tell you  what, short hair even looks good on that woman. Not to many chicks can pull it off. Mickey and Tom were great in the movie to. Even those Jabroni's from Beverly Hills 90210 were slightly amusing. Man, what is becoming of me lately. I have been down in the mouth but really, Shawn? I am about as threatening as a wood sliver these days. All kinds of shame in my game.

Well now ... let me see ... what is it I am doing in this "blog" today? I guess I am just checking in. Trying to figure. Throwing some memories up into the air. I've been away from this to long. Been playing gigs. Burying bodies. Chasing love around. Getting burned in the process.

My hairdresser is moving to Austin, Texas in a few months. I heard the news yesterday. Out like a porch light in the ghetto. She is just going to hang out with friends for a bit. Needs a change of pace. A new couch to crash on. A change of scenery. New faces and new possibilities. Maybe, she will never come back. I am a true fucking fan of those "dangerous maybes." A co-worker of mine down at the mortuary wants to go back to college but doesn't know what for. Not sure of her career path or money ambitions.She just needs a catalyst. When you have no direction you just got to start walking. Get on the bus and see where it takes you.

Me on the other hand, I have always known exactly what I wanted out of life but I could never attain it! I've been hitching my horse to the wrong post for as long as I can remember. Strange paradox my existence. Maybe I am scared little shit with serious commitment issues. Perhaps I just attract nothing but failure and bad luck. Or, it just might be that I've planted my seeds in the wrong soil for all these years. Maybe it is time to light out for the territory ... parts unknown ... dangerous maybes?!

I've been locked down in the "dark desert" for a long spell now. So long in fact that I can no longer see the possibilities. I can no longer reach out and feel for a dream. My roommate said it best, "Shawn, you gotta get out of here man! I always think to myself that one day I will come home from work and find that you hung yourself in the garage!" Whenever he is not at the job he is leaving the desert. Down in San Diego for the rest of this week. He will transfer out of this sand trap in the near future.  

I fought against the "dark desert" my whole life. In the last year it has owned me completely ... mind, body and soul. All men enter ... no man leaves. At least not alive.
 

New Skin

Walking forward
heavy on the shoulders
an invisible pall
death moves into my footsteps
as I lift a shoe, the reaper quickly steps down
into my footprint
the grimness is chasing me
we are close to being one …

Tired
the evenings are Chinese lanterns
floating in dark waters
slow movement
the low undulation of moaning
a woman’s voice
faint in the distance
whispering my first name
I see a seagull take flight
followed by a black crow
then a bottle rocket
streaming of red, blue, yellow
life yawns
crocodiles spin in the water
pirouetting like dangerous ballerinas
hungry for my
fresh flesh
warm blood.

Phone call
Chinese New Year
red pouch filled with burnt dollar bills
I make a motion
like I want you to come
here
but you text me madness and silly love
until I can’t stand
anymore
and still
my beckoning
goes
unrequited.

The dance is slowing down
the record skips
someone turns on the light
the room exposed
everyone scurries away
and I am standing here alone
again,
once again.

Where Are They Now

Life is the strangest thing going
all you have to do is
take the old photographs out
let the eyes wonder at all
the different people that pass through our lives
stop and think about
where this ex-girlfriend is now
that friend dead before his time
shallow acquaintances that shared the stage with you
for only a few seconds
and now have faded into
the maze of modern being.

Eddie is doing 3 yards in county
for violating parole
Bernadine moved to Frisco
with a man twice her age
Aunt Millie died from congestive heart failure
after that road trip to the Grand Tetons
Doug is a paramedic
Steve is a merchant marine
that Drag Queen from Laguna Beach
with the best blow
is now a seven digit salary commanding CEO
and Joanne is still living in Chicago
on the Northside with her mother
and she works on Michigan Avenue
still, to this day
and that homeless guy running through the streets
with a purple bed comforter wrapped around his shoulders
screaming, "I need money for a salad!"
is now eating his salad somewhere
in God's lonely heaven.

We wonder all the time where it goes
but Time doesn't care
what we wonder
it just moves, man!
like the demon light of an electrical current
a shark in the water
a long distance runner on amphetamines
moving, moving, moving
the ocean tide crashing in
and slowly stealing people from your shoreline
as it crawls back into the depths
and that little baby girl in that picture
your daughter
that mystery of becoming
is now 16 years old
she is someone completely new and different
and, in a few years
she will become someone different
yet again
as you stand
with your back to the sun
decomposing towards your own inevitable end.

I'm looking for some clarity
that divine shot into the heart of the question
and I miss them all so much
the ones that I talk to every day
the ones that I will never lay eyes on again
the ones that live in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico
the ones that broke my heart
the ones who stole my wallet
and got drunk and passed out on my kitchen floor
even all those that I made to feel bad
and swept under the rug
just because I could
and something told me I should
because it was high time
to discover others
and move on.

If your reading this
and wondering about me
just know I am thinking about you too
with all sincerity and apologies owed
I didn't mean to get you knocked up
or to not return your calls
it was sheer coincidence and no fault of accidental happenings
that I stole your car
and robbed that liquor store
in St. George
thanks for picking me up
when the money ran out
and, by the way
I am sorry I got you evicted
from your apartment in Houston, Texas
for pissing on the neighbors head
from the second story balcony
that shit was really uncalled for
so, the next time you pass through town
drop me a
line.

Crestview Drive

The last good times I spent drinking

were with a real gone gal in Chicago, Illinois
many a grand night spent in taxi cabs speeding towards kicks
I remember tall laughter and wild talk in dark bars
and humor in spades
dressed to the nines and full of spit and vinegar
adventures and tales, boy oh boy
how we did  hoot and holler and …

it’s a cold January night now
a Sunday in 2012
it’s all over
any spin of the bottle bringing bleeding and muted sorrow
an image of myself
coming apart in slow motion
any city laws against burying in the garden
I shake my head and tell myself
it’s not a comeback it’s a return

an uncomfortable reminder that time has passed

dust on my exposed bulb
shadows crouch in every corner of this room
the lifestyle I was living
unsustainable
hitting walls are fun
even funnier at 157 mph

a touch of melancholy on the rocks

drunk with nothing every night
not even nostalgia can save this

nothing like tile floors for the tango
crumbling to dirt and poverty
nothing like shadows to spin around with
and only the silence
to dip down to the floor
cold dead eyes in your arms

they’re all loose in here
memories with hatchets and hacksaws
I lay in bed chained to the night
nothing but another writer without a publisher

a musician without a label
an entertainer without a stage

I’m starving for a soft shoulder to cry on
the darkness is the desert and vice versa
no way in and no longer any way out

I’ll send a picture postcard care of

Chicago, IL.

Shawn Mafia | Last Call on Christmas Eve | CD Baby

Shawn Mafia | Last Call on Christmas Eve | CD Baby

Click the link above and Download "Last Call on Christmas Eve" & "All I Got For Xmas Was a D.U.I." MP3's for free! That's $0.00! Merry Christmas to all! Offer ends at Midnight ~ 19x13 ` TTBO

A Poem by the Google V-Mail Translator

Yes,
this is
Rainstuff calling Cincinnati
returning your call
you instead of mold inside the salt
think probably what it is
The One
the salt and thy air
and the water
makes it grow together,
it tends to follow,
mop and afterwards
it's Sarah
who looks kinda gray
and do not touch
that looks very good
but, I'm sure it's just mold,
but, either way, all that would
need to be done
is assault
tank care
what the salt?!

Tristan
with the U.S. Pass
some drive to the gym
but I forgot to do another
Jim
I was going to go work
but I have been changed
Bye,
Jim in.
Landris, I have been yellow
my whole life there
phone bench birthdays
bye.
You have a holy spirit
of a bedspread
since he says,
amen brother.

Embalmer's Lament

Bucket of dirty blood
bleached memories
that mop the floor
I’m manic depressive
over the dim hours
unresponsive
to your touch.

Upon the cold slab
chills rattle the spine
arterial injection making
faint eyes water
but I don't dare
spell out your fate
or
tell you that.

Silence upon the super glued lips
secured mandible suture
semi macue
and thus, you will speak no more
about those daring events
that delivered your death
two slugs to the stomach
one in the chest
upon a Halloween night burglary
gone mischievously wrong.

Sixteen years to nothing
trocar stab to the guts
aspiration of emotion
pumped up high
stitch the crime scene closed
naked in, naked out
eye caps seal
the upward stare
imprison the windows to the soul
rattled remorse stalks
the vanishing dreams
of the grieving
nowhere never looked so glamorous
in the rubbery pallor
of your stoic presentation.

I made a paycheck this afternoon
dropping the guts of the autopsied
into a bright red bucket
splashed with a hint of cavity fluid
stirred but not shaken
for the perfect martini of preservation
sipped not before a lifetime
that brushed up awful close
against the finality of your stillness
silent door bell,
like a dog whistle,
Dr. Death on the front porch
and, without further ado
I bleach mop the floors
cover you with a white sheet
wash my hands
wipe off my shoes
punch the clock
and walk out the door.