THIS MONKEY IS BACK!!!! (back to school with his little bro along for the ride too)

The August heat in Texas swelters to the simmering sun's cry. I was back at Keller High School, and I don't think the staff was quite prepared for the antics I had in store for them that year. Jincos were the jeans to be seen wearing, pagers were more prevalent than cell phones, and LSD was more popular than Ectasy is now, at least in this monkey's part of town. I had that old 85' Toyota Celica back in my possession, my vehicle which I handled usually somewhat intoxicated, and it had a sun-roof to facilitate efficient ventilation that might clear out any smells that could land my ass in jail.  Again I was getting away with so much madness, but this would all eventually get me caught up,  over and over again. Most of my crimes were petty offenses, like "Missy Misdemeanor' (the name Missy Elliot original went by), except I wasn't a chic, but I was gangsta', not really but I thought I was a quite the badass. I was a  little monkey heathen. This story reveals  a picture of day one of my junior year in high school back in 1998. This day was also day one of my brother, Aaron's freshman year, and he was about to experience high school the 'badass' way, like his big brother. I was up freshly showered, clean and ready with more than an hour to spare before that initial morning bell rang at 7:30 a.m.  This glorious scheduled ringing  sounded all over America signifying that all us little teenage monkeys needed to hurry and usher into class.
"Aaaarrrooon lets get going! If you want a ride with me you need to come on!" I belted out my demands over the noise of the shower.
"I am almost done dude, what the hell is your problem? We got way enough time," Aaron replied in confusion, but he was smart and figured it out quick,"so I guess you got plans before school starts, huh?"
"Just hurry yea we are going to stop at Eddie's, meeting up with my boys, you should feel special I'm even letting you come." I was such a dick head to my lil' bros but they knew how to engage with verbal jabs right back at me.
"Man Isaac you are such a jackass, Im gettin out right now."
"Okay I hope you got your best blouse ready for school  princess...... Lets go, come on shit-terd!"

I walked outside of my house and looked up at the grey smattered sky, a humid clad dawn available for me to stare into its abyss, to wonder how good I could get myself feeling this early in the morning. I had to be in stoned mode without drawing to much attention to myself in school. In that fashion and many other ways I am a walking contradiction, I love attention and yet I always wanted to fly underneath authority's punishing radar. I was a nonsensical dope maniac. My dad came outside and asked me why we were leaving so early for school. I told him that we were going to get Mc Donalds before school, and he didn't inqiure any further. If only he knew what went on when I left for school, and how much school I actually attended. He would find out off and on that I had been skipping school plenty. Aaron sauntered out and hopped into my car. We were off and Aaron's expression signified that he realized that I had something adventerous planned but he wasn't exactly sure. I drove quick and proud, cut through some back roads and came up where Florence Rd. tees at Ottinger, I hopped out and ran behind a road sign that marked where I had stashed the remnants of an 18 pack of Budweiser.
"What? So you are going to drink beer at 630 in the morning Isaac.... really?" Aaron didn't seemed to understand.
"Yea this is how I wake up man, so I was only half lying to Dad, this is my Mc Donalds," I cracked open a warm beer and downed it, then cracked another one. I had to drink them quick because of my time constraints. "Lets go smoke some weed!" I cackled like just another dumb teenage stoner on a mission, and with the beer in hand and the gear shift in another, my knee restraining the steering wheel as not to veer off course from my destination. I charged the gas pedal with my foot and we were off.
I made it past all the areas of Keller I could have been spotted by the local cops and as we pulled into Eddies's neighborhood I was ready, but was Aaron? I really didn't intend for him to participate, I only really cared about how much weed I could smoke, so selfishly if he part-took the it simply meant in my fiendish head, less for me. However, all of my peers in high school seemed top display the stereotypical attitudes of young party animals. We parked amongst five recognizable as being my friend's rides, I grinned at Aaron as we hopped out like a smart-ass. "Don't let them pressure you into anything you wouldn't normally do Aaron," I tried to warn him, but as I was saying my friends were some peer-pressuring jack asses. It was on!...  as soon as we tramped thru Eddie's house, opened the back patio's sliding door, and the scene swamped my emotions to break into a pothead antics.
"Whats up myyyyy niiggggaaasss!"
"Whatsup Burnes.... Its Burney Snow and little Burns is with him, what up Aaron!" Eddie welcomed us, and there was the collective close bunch of my friends that I mainly drank, smoked weed, tripped acid, and skipped much school with in order to divulge in these activities in some balanced time. In a mangled circle next to Eddie going clockwise was Daniel, Toni, Tyler, and Jeremy. A macgyver styled j-funky-rigged up as a make shift steam roller pipe was passed to me and then I returned it to Eddie completeing one round of a grand marijuana passage.
"Hey Aaron you got to hit this dude!" he said and everyone  convincingly added, "Yea bro don't be a pussy," yelped the chorus of red-eye-ripped to the hilt monkeys that chimed there song and dance of peer pressure, and so Aaron got high with us. He already pretty popular amongst the peers in his own class, so now he could brag about chillin' with some upper class-men. Later on he informed me he got so dizzy in his first peiod class that he had to excuse himself, so the first day for him in high school he had to spend laying down for awhile in the bathroom in order to collect himself, after throwing up. It seemed funny then but I now feel a bit guilty, but it happened and he turned out to be very spiritually sound regardless of that negative influence that my friends and I might have been guilty of. I went to school for some of that first day, really after that first week it was a struggle to go at all. Can you believe I was once the kid with perfect attendance all throughout my school career up all the way through junior high. I guess I just couldn't do it anymore, I couldn't be that 'above and beyond' perfectionist anymore that once had defined me. The less school I attended the more drugs I could ingest, that was the perfect balance I believed I could achieve as a teenage monkey. I know it makes no sense when you think of an objective definition of a balanced life, but in my own subjectively un-clear state of reality I had figured something chemically heroic out. How long could I run with these drugs?...  a long time, too fucking long, but I really had to learn this shit myself. I am still and then really was an unruly stubborn.... an ultra  stubborn,  I mean I was a bowling ball hard-headed little punk, and so in this character I truly had to live and learn everything myself.  I could of listened to others advice very simply. Those warnings about the destructive path I was venturing down were all coming alive one at at time, but if I hadn't experienced this 'Hell' personally I wouldn't have been so desperate years later to yearn for God and the ultimate reason He has me here. I now believe I have a real  purpose today in the grand scheme of all of these things, as crazy as they were then,  they're much crazier in a joyful manner today,  all because of Jesus' love.

THIS DOPE MONKEY COMES BACK HOME

My mom eventually tracked me down to where I was staying. After she talked to Karen(Rustin's mom), I then decided that I might as well go back. I can't remember the exact telephone conversation but I am sure that she was crying, and obviously she had hit all the right chords of confused regret. Also I was very homesick no matter how much of a badass I thought I was, I was an extremely lonely individual. I couldn't continue on with my mom so distressed about my well-being, and after all back in Texas I could get away with drinking and smoking pot all I wanted, even at my parents house. I just had to bull-shit them with a higher degree of finesse now, and until the next time I was caught not behaving only then would I have to manifest myself further into an even bigger lier. It would go on this way for years, and I believed that I was becoming slicker and slicker each time some consequential event occurred, all the while I merely had been rapidly transforming into a humungous strung-out dope monkey. I was grounded for at least a month, promised I would be a good son, and I had my car back to myself by the time my junior year in high school rolled around. THis is where my life begins to get really jacked up, all due with me trying to be a responsible teen with a job, so my brilliant fogged out brain pursues and acquires a job working in the pharmacy of a local store, called Eckerd's (they are out of business now, and no not because of my stealing...lol), in K-town. It was right next door adjoining the old Metro Food Outlet, which is also gone, their vacant buildings were eventually replaced by a church.

THIS SLINKY'S REGRET

Slinky down thru a new town she blew thru,
high speed velocity to simply forget,
her uprise is masked to allow fountains to sound,
her dawn's dew rolled dice,
her song soothed to comfortably caress,
as gaping gardens twisted her hips,
those swooshing south strayed,
starved she splashed my stash,
crying she danced to a beat I'd never forget,
so I staved off shots sour,
she was my shady sunrise,
and was born this slinky's regret.

THIS MONKEYS JUST GETTIN' WARMED UP

We arrived back at the Jenkowskis house around three o'clock that afternoon, man was my body sun-drenched, exhausted and dehydrated. I simply ate a peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich, washed down with three tall glasses of water. Then languidly I strolled to the guest bedroom and jumped up in onto a top bunk-bed, with a space-efficient desk below replacing the bottum bunk. I love those soft afternoon siestas, they seem to always contain the most vividly pleasant dreams, those naps that provide peaceful sleep but unfortunately they're always a crap-shot as to the state in which I might awake. I will either feel contently rested for the evening or swamped with a heavy head which usual compels me too continue sleeping deep into the evening or past midnight even. This time I awoke gratefully healed from the sun's beating around seven optimistic and ready to go out to a house party Lisa had told me about on the way back from Avila Beach.
Lisa was fifteen, only a year younger than me, and so again I maintained a huge secret crush on her. I am sure she knew that I liked her a bit so when I say secret I mean that the majority of this enormous infatuation was what I held a captive secret, or I believed. Lisa being so attractive was already immune to teenage boys falling for her easy, and so this helped maintain some semblance of a guise as being a somewhat cool and mysterious individual, again this was mostly my own hilariously created perception. Karen was very laid back and understood that we would probably be drinking so she held a laid back sensible stance that we should not drink and drive, also neither one of us had a car. We were dropped at this dude named Josh's house that Lisa knew from school. Josh was extremely similar to me as were the majority of the people that showed, in that we all were a lot of unsupervised drunkenly-stoned, horny, and rambunctious bunch of kids trying to get as wild and smashed as our physical body's would allow for the short duration of that night's black expanse. Bone THugs n' Harmony, Snoop Dogg, Notorious B.I.G., Tupac Shukar brazenly bumped the speakers and enveloped with a random mixture of grunge and punk rock from that era of the late 90's. Nirvana swelled and swooned with the raspy voice Cobain catapulted into a flash of short exploding stardom. Pearl Jam, Janes' Addiction, Soundgarden, BUsh, Smashing Pumpkins, etc... all rocked those speaker and created basically another cliche of an American's youth party atmosphere that most of us have experienced, some participated in more extremes of this common scene than others. I had a few beers in me when I was wondering and exploring the premises to find a few hunkered down somewhere in secret hiding to get high, usually people wouldn't want to share their personal stash with the whole flock of maniacs in attendance. I was finally getting some chemical relief, but just barely, this dope monkey was just gettin' warmed up....

A SWIM SPENT

She swam the rising tide jacked up on crack,
she ran the streets bold,
but rest assured her brain bore waves frothed to swelter,
depths passive and less cold,
huge monsoons poured but remain cramped and collared,
sent to bend-up,
pent-up engaged,
ready to race,
steady spent on that dicy climax,
to stroll out grinning,
implode wearing her shine simple,
death will grip her cries,
and I believe a symphony soon will surround her,
soothing surrender sacks her delivered.

PACIFIC BEACH MONKEY

The next day was exhilarating, and it began very early, well getting up at nine in the morning is always an early rise for this dope monkey. Foggy I awoke with that dreamy Pacific binded to a half asleep-state of mind, my thoughts so giddy because this day-trip had been planned within an hour of crashing the previous night. Karen had some fresh fruit cut up and Rustin, Lisa ,and I ate lightly and hurriedly. Then we were off! The drive west filled an hour that thrust my excitement into acceleration, sense of a new adventure thrived as I gazed at the rapidly transforming landscape which raced alongside the telephone and power lines. The fervor continually compounded to the inner-depths of a sober head with words chattering at the shit-ton of un-restrained lunatics laughing and dancing just on the inner- surface of my skull. I welcomed them usually with sick hospitality, although the majority of the time they took advantage, abusing my welcoming attitude by treading painfully, prodding and burdening my soul.
When we arrived at Avila Beach I was freakin pumped. I was warned that the Pacific was very chilly even during the summer so I ran in for rapid dolphin-esque submerge, plunging in a methdoical swimmers dive right before the tide flowed up over my knees, and all my instincts from 10 years on the swim team growing up sank in. Anybody who knows anything knows this is the quickest method to get your body adjusted to cold waters. Lisa was hanging out with some of her friends, they were all pretty dang sexy, and I was too shy to talk therefore I instinctively resorted to showing off in order to obtain some much needed attention from all those bikini clad females present. I left Rustin and the girls behind, sprinting off towards the pier. Pedestrains, bicyclers, and fisherman all jumbled up and down the wooden salt swollen planks creating quite the atmosphere. As you have figured already I had never been to an ocean or beach yet in my life, maybe to the Gulf of Mexico as a young child but that doesnt fit into my adult memory as a credible life experience. I made my way down towards the end of the pier, everyones's focus was on me, or so I thought. I was the center of my own personal universal confusion. I was the cliche of teen angst, the stereotype of some young rebel that never heeded any warnings from adults who had been there before me. I figured they were all born ridiculously grown up and lost in the responsibilities of life. This was my warped sense of reality, but as soon as I climbed up on top of the railing I had drawn others in, several people's eye were now upon me, they gazed with intense curiosity. As I jumped off the pier, adrenaline engulfed and coursed thru my veins and headed towards my nerves. I had learned as a young boy from literally living and growing up in my parent's gymnastic's center, easy reckless ways to produce those chemicals that 'adrenaline junkies' often sought. The main reason people were basically staring, wondering what the hell was wrong with me, (looking at me like I was a maniac monkey) was because I had just broken a law that was common sense to the majority of the native beach bums. After swimming the distance of the pier back to shore I was quickly accosted by the local Beach Patrol Squad. The recently acquired marijauna leaf that I had tattooed on my back did not help my cause in not recieving a fat ticket for my offense. I had no idea jumping off the pier was now allowed. Luckily my ignorance produced a very plausible and believable defense which aided in my innocent 'dumb Texan' defense. They let me off with a warning. In the next ensuing years though my warnings were beginning to expire. I would find myself in and out of jails half dozen times a year, ever year the majority of my young adult life.

THIS MONKEY'S MIND A RIOT AND IN DESPERATION (back to the chronicles of a Dope Monkey)

Rustin and I galloped out into that orange-smattered, blue-tinted, and purple-phased dusk's promising horizon energized. Our vehicle was an old blue 88' Honda Civic. We were 16 damnit and we were freakin' invincible, well at least I thought I was, and so I chased this naive dream with very little doubt that I could ever be stopped. Rustin usually just laughed at my absurd behavior. I always wanting to smoke pot and consume as much liquor as I could possibly find as a minor. I was at the genesis of acquiring my status of a dope fiend, which eventually would transform me into a full blown dope monkey. Rustin was straight edge and I actually respected his character, but I couldn't really figure him out. He seemed so at ease and didn't seem to have any of those urges to escape as I did, so I out of respect I didn't act out as much around him. Looking back on this it was most likely better that his personality even-keeled mine out a bit when we were together. The first stop we made at one of his buddy's house, his 'Ska' band was meeting up to get in a few hours of practice. Since they were all straight edge naturally I wasn't offered any drugs or alcohol and was a bit uneasy and agitated, so I just smoked cigarettes and listened to his band practice until 9 or 10 that night. I hated that I felt so unnerved no matter where I was or who I was around if when sober. I could of been in the Bahamas sober and still would mainly focus on how I could get high or drunk. I really couldn't help it I figured, but thinking back on all those times it cooly helped me realize how sick my little brain was. I didn't merely have a one track mind, I was the owner of a compulsively steaming single destined-set thought processor that continued to chug further into desperation and unobtainable happiness.

SLICK in SANDALS

Slick in Sandals,

quicker than a bank robber's getaway car,

lovely lilacs sway to sweet scents simultaneously surrender,

summer sweats and shed beads bungled towering trees tops,

I am nothing but with 'Him' I am eternal,

but how sickly I forget and so I cower in dissent,

these day's He has restored some amazing moments of clarity,

and in all things HE is due the ultimate credit,

I am blessed in faith revived,

and in His peace I can forever reside!

Supernatural Strength! (from the present, not part of the stories I have been posting)

Why not share the truth of Jesus Christ and his sweet, tender grace with all the people engaged in this weird new venue labeled the blogosphere? These astonishing transformations continue everyday as I seek Him humbly without fear, I have given myself all to Him, and it is 'a day at at time'(to steal another once hated cliche from A.A). I have to let go of doubts and when they arise I know it is evil trying to turn me back to the shelter and comfort of drugs and alcohol, and so easy it was before to negotiate within myself, giving in to the wants of the devil. The devil... another word people are easily tured off by when hearing, but he is real, he knows what I have been up to and he is afraid that I will continually become a stronger asset to God's will on Earth. I have opened my mind and heart and feel inasane strength in my walk with Jesus. It would be a shame for me not to proclaim him, before I would be embarrassed but really I was ashamed of myself. I knew Jesus from church so I didn't feel genuine enough to speak of him to anyone, especially in my darkest days(strung out on heroin). I am completely born again with Him, no matter how cliche that sounds. All of the 'buzz words' like God, church, and Jesus sadly turn off the masses because of fanatics and people who aren't real Christians that judge and condemn people. Dont't get me wrong I am not trying to sound like I understand everything under the spectrum about what God really wants us to be as 'real' Christians. I am His student, so let me tell you something crazy joyous and uplifting I recently experienced. Yes the last three weeks I have felt close to God and have surrendered and been compltetley courageous in making major changes, not only in sobriety, but in asking Jesus to have all of me, for I am His anyways, why not embrace it? However, the last several days I have stopped taking medicine that helps people get off Heroin, called Suboxone, it isn't as hardcore in trying to stop taking as Heroin withdrawals can be (methadone withdrawals are the worst in my experience). It is a mild opiate, and since discontinuing its use, I have been in a lot of pain and discomfort. So I prayed, exercised stayed busy, had my roommates pray for me, and then I remembered my brother, Aaron I havent asked to pray for me in several weeks. The first day I had gone without my medicine I ached and had typical opiate withdrawal symptoms. I had finally gotten off work around 10pm, that first day was nearing it's demise. Aaron lives a few blocks from where I reside in Austin now, so I called him, and asked if I could swing by. He was one of the first people I have made myself accountable to in Austin aware of my mission I had set off earlier that day. I had told him to check up on me because I could of been triggered to shoot dope, but God had other plans for me. So I trucked on thru the first day and found myself desperately seeking God but couldn't feel him, so I sought and prayed, and now I in my brothers backyard, under the beautiful nights sky-scape. Aaron prayed and broke out of prayer and had a conversation with me, I said, "Whoaa, so yo just break in and out of prayer, what are you doing?" (I have so much to learn), "YEa... thats how we do it," he grinned at me. Towards the end of what before would of been a prayer to put me to sleep,LOL!..., awakened the presence of Jesus, GOd, and the Holy Spirit, alive in me!
I had seen others do what once I would have mocked and sworn off as fanatical lunacy, healing prayer, which doesn't always work, but after my first encounter with it I believe it all has too do with how open you are to letting 'Him" in, and probably how spiritual the one praying for you is. It isn't a quick fix, it doesn't happen every time, I still had to go thru several more days of discomfort and withdrawal. However, I was so desperate and so open and willing to try anything because my will was destroying my spirit and soon would kill me. So Aaron asks the Lord to fill me with his presence, heal me, and give me continued strength. I felt an intense tingling sensation from head to toe, numbing all of my body, and killing all those symptoms for the rest of that night till I went to sleep. Aaron asked me if I felt any better, and I didn't even speak for a good 20 secs, I was analyzing this intense supernatural overwhelming feeling. I am yours Jesus I had proclaimed weeks before, so now he was providing me the strength to go against my brain was used to in the last 12yrs. I don't know except by the grace of God, I went thru those withdrawals and working a job during these days as well. The ensuing few days I continued to pray and worship and the same sensations overwhelmed me throughout the day, reminding me that he was there with me always, no matter if I felt 'Him" or not. There will be days I won't feel this and it's cool cause I am not a 'Jesus robot', I know he is there even thru those times he chooses not to reveal himself to me. It is in these seemingly unfulfilling times that I learn the most and look back on what had been revealed, just in a different fashion. I will never fully know all of God's love but I can seek him thru daily prayer, and am working on the meditation. God love us so freakin' much, all of us, I encourage all those doubters to embrace Him, it is the best feeling ever, and coming from me that should say a lot if you knew me and how I once lived. I am learning more and more everyday. When I have doubts about heaven or hell, I can take solace in that my little mind can't grasp all Him overnight, but I can let my faith grow thru some simple actions. I don't have to identify or let my imagination run with those doubts, just accept them and pray for them to dissipate. It is the Devil tryin' to confuse the crap out of me and I am learning how easy it is to not allow satan to sway me. It's all and everything thru God's fantas-mical sweet Glory! Duudddeee!!!! Sccwwhhhhttt!!!!! DUDE! SWEET Potatos!

Wordplay; FOR THIS MONKEYS BROSKIS' CANOSKIS'

I GOTZ THRICE RICE COUNTING KOOL KELLOG'ED OUT BROS'

SAM THE CAM, SIR CAMELOT 3000, CAMEL BREATH SETH; HIS HUMP IS ON HIS BACK AND HE CARRIES NINJAS IN HIS PACK......

JESSE THE MESSY ONE, THE LOST ON ROADWAYS GURU, M.C. MC GROOVIN' JEHAUS' JERMAINE'S WHITE SON, LEVER 3000; EXTRUSION OF THE THIRD EYE TO BE A CRUDE VERSION OF HIM IS SIN....

AARON THE ERRONEOUS, AIRHEAD MC FANCY PANTS, MICAH MIKED UP ON MARY POP A DOUGAL MC FRUGAL; IN HIS PANTS GAS GRIPES AND STAINS CURDLED UP TO FILTER HIS KILTER STILTED OUT FELTED SHIRT OFF HIS BACK HE'LL GIVE....

ISAAC(ME, YES I AM MY OWN BROTHER, IF THAT MAKES SENSE TELL ME CAUSE IT DON'T TO ME~LIKE AN OLD FOLKS HOME) BIG EYE MC FLY, BUG EYES, SNOWMAN, SNOWBIRD, SHIT`TERD, EYESAC, SAC N' SAVE, TITAC, EYE YACKS A LOT, FURBY, BURNEY SNOW, BURNSSSS MC BURNS A LOT OF DRUGS(NOT TODAY), SNOWMOBILE 8888, OJOS, OJITOS, SAPO, SAPITO; TO DRIVE A TRAIN DRY INTO THE PASTURE, OFF THE TRACKS MADE BY THE ABOMINABLE SNOWMAN, DIRTS UP THE CARPET WITH BLOOD SKIN FLAPS THAT SHOULD READ IM IN THE RED, I SHOULD BE DEAD FOLDED TIMES A MYRAID SCOLDED INFINITE BOLD TREMORS, AND FIT JAMMIN TRIM,, WOUT GOD I WOULDN'T BE SO KOOL WITH SUCH GLORIOUS NON-SENSE!


AND NOW MY FAVORITE NEW NICK-NAME, IS CRAZY UNCLE ISAAC. BEFORE, BEING CALLED 'CRAZY' WOULD OF MADE ME FEEL 'MAD', BUT THE MOST IMPORTANT TITLE I KNOW LOVE IS DADDY ISAAC, HOPEFULLY I WILL HEAR MASON SAY THIS IN DUE TIME!

D.D.Monkey's poetry: Dedicated to an Angel, Live Beyond Us in Joyous Peace

Dreams of dark horses galloped incessantly,

Why did She always have to be so damn clever?

and away She journeyed to stay,

She always did discover those foreign places to hide,

Her head consumed their lies,

and She cried shaken stirring never softly,

Times unsoundly encoded,

Smiles gone to where they're stationed,

Fragile fever docked its fleet inside,

and the Darkness reveled over those innocent disheveled,

Only few She revealed,

Froth from fear those that crept She consistently concealed,

FUCK THOSE BLACK MAD MIND NINJAS!

FUCK THIS PARASITIC LUNACY!

They kicked and sifted the sands to manic reality,

They whispered their bullshit climbed from slim existence,

She graded and judged her resistance,

and at intervals some days they vacated the premises,

Ahhhh!!!!! the sweet relief evergreen clean to forget those obscene,

So She again was reminded to venture intensely,

and explore another updraft filtered so swiftly,

She wandered free and loved us especially loud,

Singing to spirits~overwhelmed so proud,

but then once again,

Death came refreshed,

Too much joy always burned out her candle,

Back beneath that barren rotted realm,

and so that subway's dirty whisperings reigned again,

Back and back and thrice and spliced like a grapefruit's brain,

A solid decade she aimed and aimed to kill their uncharted claim,

The Spirit came and She cried and cried to Him,

Only brief synapses and overpasses faulty collapses,

and I know She did...She did Believe!

She knew the Spirit that kept unfolding to ravish the pain,

and So the sacred Spirit grew so distant it seemed too far gone,

So lost the only connection left obtainable via triggered deception,

We love you Sweet Angel,

Tell all the others who left the pain they're not in vain,

Tell them all we miss them,

None do we blame,

The dark whispers are finally crushed to dusty rust,

Only the light shines now about your beauty,

thru Him infinitely to us it binds,

High above the planes of your genius fame,

I will see you up there in due time...

For now I must maneuver up, down, and all around those loosely tethered vines,

Precious girl I hear your boundless heavenly crowned sounds,

Like some immaculate subwoofers that vibrate our earth's ground,

Finally you can cling to his White Bearded Dream!

'China White' Faucets-(poem from this present day)

Cannonball Express,

Diluted drained distress,

Feathers quilt my down time,

Reindeer games... I don't play them,

but Emu names... I can claim them,

Ruffled chocolate,

Buttery options,

Truffles dispense chocolate,

and Milk from 'China White' faucets!

THIS MONKEYS UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL

The drive was at least twenty minutes from the business highway, and their house could not be found in any of the typical suburban areas that surrounded most of the town. Out into the country we drove, thru pavement carved hills, winding amongst dry mesquites and sage brush, arriving on a chunk of clayish orange-fiery red, rugged piece of real estate. Ronnie was around ten years older than Karen. He was now retired and had done very well for himself. Educated with a civil engineering degree he had started a company twenty years prior, and had just recently sold it for a healthy amount. I am assuming he had gotten at least five million for his twenty years of stress and effort. I really don't know if that figure is correct, who knows? It could of been twenty million because five million is really not as much as it once was. Being in California any number could be under-estimated. I rarely saw Ronnie, but he apparently had no qualms about stowing a runaway at his secluded ranch house in the hills of Paso Robles. Rustin arrived around forty minutes after I had. He was very surprised to see me sitting out on the Spanish tiled patio, lounging languidly road beat like a common loiterer. Then there was that huge smile that formed on Rustin's face, it always caused me to grin in return, a small wise ass grin signifying,'yea I am a crazy bastard that just hitch-hiked across a few states.' My sad rubbered out lizards legs caused me to rise rapid without much strength to aid me. I needed a bath and I wasn't the only one aware that I was being deprived of this common luxury. A shower was initially offered by Karen, but I wanted to see Rustin arrive and watch his reaction relishing his goofy pearl pasted smile. I hadn't been able to engulf my sut and dust smothered skin anywhere except for this ice cold lake in Washington three days prior. As I waited perched patiently on the patio my brain wildly craved some drugs that might cleanse my mangled mental faculties. I had myself convinced that would guide me to effortless ease, just some weed to provide my short cut to everything.

Mrs. Karen Jenkowski Brings Brief Ease to this Monkey

The Jenkowski's were taken naturally by surprise. There I was driven to their town by various truck driving, load hauling characters. As many people have found, and as I have realized, is the gracious and welcoming attitude the majority of folks dwelling in this popular golden state of existence seem to be. It could be equated to the weird hippy-esque character one can see in the citizens of Austin. I rather enjoyed basking in their warmness, and I equally enjoy ignorantly mocking such tree huggin' commis'. I love nature but not more than I love mankind. "Fruits and nuts," a friend from San Diego once told me were the only kinds of people that reign from the West Coast(especially California). Just another one of our planet's vast stereotypes, and how fun and yet how powerful can these connotations become either negative or not. It's equated to the typifying Texans as either "Steers or Queers." Rustin's mother was so damned open minded and compassionate. She was a recovered heroin addict, and at this point I had not divulged in this intoxicant yet. If only I had heeded her warnings, but why start now, I had to likewise as almost all teenagers would, 'learn things the hard way." In this aged old thought that we either ultimately fall or gather strength from those sharp born mind-singeing, silver raw shining, self saturating experiences. Karen picked me up from my spot squatted in the parking lot, my clothe stuffed bag was used to soften the underlying heat soaked pavement. Karen had meet me one year in Tyler,TX as she accompanied her kids at Whispering Pines paying a much wanted visit to her parents, which naturally she had less frequently seen due to the geographical restraints.

"Hey there stranger, hop in," she said with this beautiful kindness she sincerly relayed thru her sweet tone, bold gestured mannerisms, and soft calm expressive dimples.
"Sure thing, thank you so much Karen. I am owe ya' more than you realize," I tried to hide any the abrasive weariness that I was feeling from to fuse with my tone.
"Isaac first off I wanted to say that you are welcome to stay as long as you'd like. We can enroll you here in school if thats what you want. I know you have some issues with drugs...," she paused for about five seconds but it seemed like an eternity as I observed her reaching deep within herself in pained recall of past memories,"Twenty years ago I was a heroin addict Isaac, if I hadn't meet Ronnie I don't believe I would be alive," Ronnie was her husband. He was at least ten years older than her, and he had taken in Karen along with Lisa and Rustin. I can't remember the exact details but I am pretty sure their natural father wasn't there as he ought to have been. "Do you feel like telling me whats going on? Are your parents abusing you?" This hit a distinct cord of guilt because ultimately I knew my parents loved me. I just didn't agree with my father's acts of hard nosed discipline, told to read proverbs as punishment and I would gain wisdom. 'Honor thy mother and father', yea right, fuck that shit I was thinking in pissed off sour resentment. Now as I look back over those days I know my dad loved me and yearned for me to become a great man, he wished I would began a path to walk daily with the Lord. I was so spiritually stifled in ridiculous intellectualism. I frequently went to my mom to complain about my father and his harsh conditioning(these were tame in relation to how his father dealt with him and his siblings,and yet I don't see much of that in my grandpa to this day), and I regret the problems I personally caused in their marriage. My Dad is so much more laid back now and I believe has gained more wisdom in the last few years than he realizes.
"No it's not like that Karen... I mean my dad is an asshole to me. They took my car that I worked my ass off to buy with my own money. I ain't being beaten, but my dad does whip me with his belt and I'm getting to old for that shit. It's embarrassing, but that has kind of stopped since it didn't hurt like it once did, the belt had lost it's effectiveness. He makes me read Proverbs now mainly and then write reports about what I got from it... I hate it," and I probably added some bullshit that painted a negative image in Karen's head bout my parents.
"Well sweetie I need to talk to Ronnie more but he is very compassionate, but here is the deal Isaac. Ronnie has cancer so we are dealing as best we can with the chemo and what not so ultimately we have to as a family keep him as our top priority during these crappy days he is experiencing."

This Dope Monkey on the Brink of Dereliction

The sun overcame shyness to embark triumphantly treading slowly signing high noon. I shuffled into that Denny's, bacon's distinct flavor hit my nostrils, my stomach groaned and growled crying for some greasy consumption. My skins scales baked burnt from the previous week of exhausting exposure, but I was confident that tonight I would slip beneath the depth's of night to finally crash comfortably and sink deep into exile of peace. I wanted to sleep indoors dammnit, I was a punk on an extended mission. Rest assured I would find mine friends, but first I had to figure out some form of contact information and I knew I couldn't call my grandparents. That avenue would have been convenient but it would involve going against the plans of alluding my family. My parents had been hounding my friends incessantly from the day of my initial departure. My ego took it's turn around the dining room, believing to be the center of everyone's attention, all eyes on the wanderer, unique and full to the brim with teenage wit and wisdom. I exhaled as my breath rose glowing neon, adding to this aura of mystery I tried to cooly convey convincingly. I located a pay-phone and thumbed thru an attached Paso Robles telephone directory. I failed to find them, I felt the air deflate my confidence but my resilience aided me. I stared chatting it up with some of the wait staff. I remember this young black chic overhearing me asking about the Jenkowski's, her ears perked, her head rotated finding me, grabbing my attention I trekked over to her relieved that I had found this connection.

"Hey yea I go to school with Rustin and his sister," she said without a shred of reluctance to reserve this knowledge for herself.
"Yea I'm an old friend of theirs from Texas and I really need to find them. I left their number back home," I explained trying to conceal my exploding eagerness, excited I didn't want to destroy this link. She could've very well have assumed that I was a mad stalker. I refrained from mentioning Lisa and told her I was real tight with Rustin. She would be more likely to give me the information I wanted if I kept my inquires on him versus his sister to avoid producing some stalker image that could cloud her willingness she seemed to express. She grabbed her purse without hesitating and shuffled through it looking for Rustin's home number (this was just the beginning of teenagers having cell phones, most of us proudly carried pagers). She retrieved a small brown contact book and then looked at me smiling intensely but I believe that I had just perceived her kind expressiveness to be more than what she was really portraying. It was mostly in my head, I was the one smiling with the intense emotional relief. I really was quite a desperate boy. I was starting to turn terribly mad in my lonely offbeat state. I admired the derelicts I read in books naively, but on the brink of becoming a lunatic at such a young age I was truly afraid. Fear filled to the brim eventually equals a sad grave, and even at this present time 12 year later I am learning more about this and all its immense interlocking dangers.

wordplay poem to exercise this monkeys brain

Creepers climb from the pits of my stomach,

signal some song silly strained stitched slang,


dope monkey!

Fort Worth Dope Monkey!

Dallas Dope Junky!

Recover the passion,

Christ loves my passion,

my fear is lifted and now the devil is afraid,

I am not in you realm,

filter your evil eating my steeple,

Love is so grand in its ultimate climatic stand!

BAM AN ORIGINAL JAM! SWEET AS PEACHES!(not from my youth)

Peaches n' cream fill dreams obscene,

dormant now clean,

trained to thrill,


tinted shades of raw meat unveiled,

I swallowed the intensity,

I drilled the depths to focus,

and man I feel shallow when you came to kill................

Yes I Am Going Westward a Young Man

      Teddy's route mapped him continuing southbound for San Diego to deliver supplies for a United States Naval base. I knew exactly where I needed to be dropped.  As soon as Highway 5 South intersected with Highway 46 West dawn was breaking beautifully revered. No human being should ever discount this everyday event, sleeping in and ignoring such simple glories as we all take advantage naively assuming that there will always be tomorrow. That's when the journey ended with Teddy and his dark story, conveniently and metaphorically ending as the night's black void fell dormant.  I hadn't slept peacefully in the much missed comforts of a bed in around a week now.  Such simple luxuries that I had been taking advantage of my entire spoiled American life.  I was beginning to catch an unwanted strain of homesickness. I fought that feeling with this ornery and stubborn outlook that I'd acquired, and since I hadn't had a drink or drug in a few days I was feeling again unfortunately.  I believe that I was completely out of money at this point in time, although I am positive I found solutions in which to continue my smoking habit. I was on the brink of craziness, harbored native madness, from this unintentional several days sobriety. At minimum I would always figure out how to get some nicotine, finances be damned, and being under-age be damned. I was now on the same plain as that Mexican from the train station in El Paso, when he noticed the last of my cigarette that  I had flicked high into the wind's current, beginning his chase along the grey gum and cigarette littered pavement.
         Highway 46 is pretty much a straight shot towards the dreamy Pacific, interim lies Paso Robles, CA, which was my destination intentionally because of some friends that I knew lived there. These people were my last hope, my final option for shelter.  Richard veered off the road and parked his Suburara Outback, surf board on top, alongside where I was walking.  I told him that I was headed for Paso Robles, and so he offered to take me there assuring me that it was no problem at all because he was passing right through there on his way to the beach. The conversation was so quaint and sane compared to the those dang truckers. Mainly I recall him telling me that he was a P.E. teacher somewhere in that surrounding area, but the coolest fact that I remember him revealing was a little history about this highway we were traveling en route to both our westward destinations. Highway 46 (I double checked this and discovered it to be factual) was the final roadway James Dean sped down like a Nascar driver, being involved in his infamous fatal car crash as he drove a new Porsche 550 Spyder on September 30, 1955.  He had been ticketed by a C.H.P. officer earlier that day before being called out later on to the scene of this icon's mangled muscle machine. James Dean was found dead (he was luckily killed on impact) leaned limped lifeless against the passenger's side door which has ever since sparked the controversy if he was even driving. There is the theory that after he got ticketed James Dean pulled over again and he let his friend take over to drive?
         I was dropped in what seemed to be the heart of the Paso Robles' business district. I ventured over to a Denny's off 24th street, with my giant shoulder bag containing some clothes and books (I have lost so many great books throughout this journey and other travels I went on years later).  The people I knew I had met camping with my running grandparents (a nickname I was told I invented as a child because when I tried to say "other grandparents" other sounded from my mouth as running and for some reason it stuck and my parents ever since I can remember referred to them as my running grandparents) in Tyler, TX at Whispering Pines R.V. Park every year the prior three consecutive years. They were here from California visiting their grandparent's that were acquainted with each other through the Sam's R.V. Club (old retirees  camping club). It was called 'Grandkids weekend' and so every year I grew closer to this pair, a brother and sister, named Rustin and Lisa Jenkowski.  Rustin was around my age, a bit older, but not by more than a year. Lisa was about a year younger than me, and boy did my little brother, Aaron and I have the biggest crush on her. Lisa had a beautiful dark olive complexion, matched perfectly with illuminating green eyes, and  I have always been a sucker for chics with green eyes. Rustin is now and actor/model/musician in West Hollywood, no bullshit, but he deserves any blessing that bestows upon him because he is a very unique individual, not too cocky, and carries with him everywhere an air of confidence. When you are around him you feel like he can teach you virtues and wisdom that as a 16 year old kid you would never imagine he could have obtained such a great understanding, he seemed to know exactly what his place on this earth meant.
        
             *****************************************************************
                    
       Tyler is a beautiful east Texas town thriving with towering pines, and then there are the swamps, most are located a bit southeast of Tyler, but the entirety of East Texas has such a vast array of preciously proud landscapes. Each corner of Texas contains its own wonders, some more dear to me than others. Sulphur Springs is a very remote town in East Texas and is where my "running grandparents" migrated from to FT. Worth after World War II. My mom's side of the family own over 300 acres there in Sulphur Springs still and the majority of my family maintain dreams of settling back down on the old farm to peacefully linger in retirement. One of my Uncles has some cultivating plans for the rich earth the one time cotton farm covered spread like butter even and soft shifting rain soaked land. He knew the soil should yield good crops, at least it did when my grandma was just a girl, her parents (my great grandma Olive Webb I vaguely remember visiting on frequently as a boy before she died in an old folks home. I remember her funeral a bit, mainly the sole memory of her funeral was of my Runnin' Grandma balling her eyes out. I had never seen her so distraught and tore up before or ever since that day) were the last generation to simply live off that plot of acreage. It was so hilarious talking to my Grandma recently reminiscing her childhood out there in the fields in between rows of trees that marked    particular borders and separated various fields, intermingled with dense thickets of forested lowlands, this wondrous canopy under which my grandpa and his brothers hunted deer and trapped wild hogs. My grandma found her childhood diary one Christmas family reunion, and in it almost everyday, every entry simple said something about how she woke up, went to school, picked cotton, and occasionally went to town with their daddy for candied apples if they had been really good girls. The farm was then and to this present day still is located far down a winding country dirt farm road with merely a few houses anywhere close or in a three mile radius. My 'Runnin' Grandpa lived on a dairy farm in one of those houses down the road with his four brothers, and he along with two of his little brothers ended up marrying my grandma and her two sisters. What a concept... friends usually tease me about this when I share it with them, saying it was weird, but as far as I know that happened quite frequently back then. At least they weren't cousins like was once an old tradition for centuries. Naturally these were the closest women around for my Grandpa and his brothers to hitch up with. I really respect this side of my family, our family reunions include the set of brothers and sisters in addition to numerous others from all over TX that come together on multiple occasions throughout the year .  I am proud of my family's pine grained East Texas swamped 'cotton pickin' country roots.

           ******************************************************************

      

New Poetry(not from my collections from youth)

Timed treasure seekers swindle the calm spirit,

they travel northbound during the silent season of fall,

crispness air increased,

lungs grip tugging at the autumn's condensation,

and so they had already found their bounty,

but neither will realize this until years later.

Truckin' Teddy

       Teddy seemed around sixty years old, with a full on santa beard, he carried a nasty stench of Doral cigarettes that hovered about him keeping strangers at bay. The interior of his cab did stink like body odor as well and as sick as it fumed thru my nostrils, I found I'd become immune to this fairly rapidly. Just as Ronnie had, Teddy generously let me bum as many cigs' off him whenever I so desired. We stopped during the end of this road weary coursing night, at the genesis of dawn, the hours I seemed to feel most alive, I could travel in this covered darkness without any fear of repercussions.  I could divulge in any illegal or wrong doings that I frequently found myself involved for the duration of these devilish few hours.  For about a year I never had to deal with any real consequences. That would end very shortly after my return to TX a week or so later.
      The stereotypical version of any truck stop diner one can imagine is where we dined. I was ravenous and he bought me breakfast and I ate un-apologetically crazed by hunger, surrounded by these hurly burly redneck lot of characters sharing in this fried, battered, and scrambled up cuisine.  We were somewhere between San Francisco and the Oregon border. I didn't know exactly where I was but I did know that I was very close to the infamous Big Sur, where I learned about in my reading Kerouac's novels. One is actually titled Big Sur, but he includes this wonder of northern California in several of his works of fiction.
      
      "Thats some of the best biscuits n' gravy in the state," Teddy said as I had just taken my first bite he looked into my face for some sign of reply in my facial expression showing agreement with his statement as my mouth was full and I chewed faster now so I could verbalize an opinion.
       "I don't think they're better than these grits though.... Damn! I always figured southerners made the best grits. I wouldn't ever argue this point with one of 'em but it just goes to show how little I know about something as simple as fuckin' grits!" I laughed and continued on with another mouth load to ravish.
       "Spoken like a true lil' nigger!" he laughed at his instilled racist values and I chuckled too, which pretty much made me just as much a bigot as him.
         "U look like an old ass monkey yourself...."
         "Well aren't you just a little smart ass for such a young man!"
         "Fuck yea... but Im just jacking with ya' Teddy....," I agreed and he wore a vague smile watching me finish as he sipped on his black coffee, "Teddy were you in Vietnam?" I inquired upon seeing an old Army tattoo.
          "No sir Kuhhreeaa.... got shot a few times and almost blown up on a few occasions," he laughed again. At least he can look back on such shitty and violent times such as war in such a light hearted manner. I ate and ate, sat back finally finished with my food and sipped on some black coffee, chain-smokin' Teddy's Dorals and listening to him carry on about the war. Naturally the pervert in the man eventually was revealed as he began talking about dirty sexual shit. I mean I don't blame him he was pretty much a typical dude talking about sex but he creeped me out, but not nearly as the dirty 'ol man had in Tacoma. I sat there and soaked in his story about one of the times he came close to blowing his legs and probably his dick clean off his body as well, but was shielded by a fellow soldier who's body was sacrificed instead of Teddy's.
           If he had been blown to shit in those distant jungles he wouldn't of been telling me this story about a Korean prostitute he saw shortly thereafter almost being pummeled to shreds the previous week. He wouldn't have a little bastard half and half baby that he said he was made aware of 15 years later. I could here hints of shame in his tone as he spoke about him, and he in his ramblings he continually referred to him as his lil' chink bastard boy(I'm just reporting in how he continually described his son w such derogatory 'terms of endearment'). His intentions were once pure he explained when he'd initially discovered his only known offspring, but being clear across the world he never did go and make good on his responsibilities towards that poor kid. My point being proves some truths to how gay and stupid intentions can be if never acted upon.  I forgot the famous quote about intentions, but it's something like roads never get paved merely by good intentions.  Anyways that was the main lingering regret of Teddy's life, though he did not admit to it, the guilt was clearly translated thru his tone and mannerisms as he carried on narrating. I just wish he could let go of the demeaning way he still described the boy's mother. Here he was old as shit and you'd think he'd gained some wisdom and truth from the whole ordeal, but he clearly was another bitter old American, long lost past the standard American Dream. His days' were numbered and he knew it and didn't give a shit about his salvation or anything beyond the grave. He was the same as he'd always been just meaner and bitter. It was sad but another very revealing character I would encounter in my travels that summer.