The Grizzly

I went to visit my grandmother tonight and took her out for dinner. When I went to leave, she handed me an envelope full of illustrations that I drew as a very young child. Also in the envelope were newspaper clippings of various childhood achievements, some photos, and a poem. A poem written by my late father. I never knew my dad was into poetry, or writing. He was always a very 'rough and tumble' kind of guy, and while he was extremely intelligent, it comes as a great surprise to find that he actually used to write some stuff. The following is a poem, written by Jeff Tjaden, sometime in his teenage years. There was no date on it, and it was just a piece of notebook paper with the title and his name in the upper right hand corner. I can only assume it was a school assignment that my grandmother held on to. I was actually quite surprised with how neat and well written his cursive handwriting was. But yeah, here is the poem:

The Grizzly

Looking, but never seeing
It is late day, or early evening
Knowing, but yet still wondering
Hoping, but not really wanting
It's getting later, but still I'm waiting
At last it appears, when the moon is dawning
Beautiful, yet stark and terrifying
The Great Beast is lurking
Closer and closer it draws, and yet still perching
The entire forest is awakening
At last the chase is starting

It was a quiet fight, done with no meaning

Disclaimer

I've been publishing quite a bit on here as of late, and I felt the need to make a general statement regarding the content of these primitive scrawlings. Not that I feel that I owe any of you an explanation, but I don't want anyone to think I belong in a straight jacket. Most of the things published here were written in the late fall of 2013, and extended into the winter. I was experiencing a very real mental breakdown of sorts. It was visceral, and felt as real as anything I have ever experienced in my life. Late nights of substance abuse and self loathing. I never hated myself more than I did in the months of September through December of last year. It was all I could do to retain some fleeting semblance of sanity, to document these thoughts on this glowing screen. It was dark, lonely and terrifying. If this sounds like some sort of bastardized 'artistic hyperbole', so be it. I never considered this to be art. I'll never be like any of you, nor do I want to. I am my own man and I have carved out my own path. For better or worse. These aren't here for anyone but me. If others can see it and make a connection, even better. This isn't some piece of time, or piece of fucking 'art' to be analyzed and digested. This was a very real part of my life that I documented, and I am glad to have done so. I had to crack open a dark, horrifying section of my skull to find this stuff, and I am happy that it is over and I never want to go back there again. I don't know that I will be doing much here as far as new 'material', and most of this stuff is unedited and left as it's original piece as it was. Created in the moment and puked forth. Purged from my soul and splattered upon the screen. This isn't for you to enjoy. This is for me to look back on and be glad that it is over. I am in a much better place mentally. Thanks for reading.

An Old Cancerous Man

Spitting in the face of reason, and lying here awake. To spite reality and reroute it's course.
Groping insane. The curtains close. She opens the vein. The blood is visible. It never ends. My eyes are drying out
Ground into the earth. Laying the framework for hate. Hammers, nails and a biting grit
Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.

Keeping it whole, keeping it here. Burrowing further and smelling the sand. Salting the earth and mow off the grass

There is no one. Who will stay here with me. I am the end. Love is impossible. I till this earth. I make things implausible. I kept it near. I stayed there true to you

The tumor grows. I feel it spreading now. Won't kill me yet. This worm inside of me. I welcome death. My life is painful now. I won't regret. These things I'll never be.

I'll never be
I cannot see
I could not care
To be like other men
I live in strife
The ocean swallows me
I'll kill it fast
This gift given to me

I never want. To be like one of you. Ill fated breath. Deprive those close to you
I'll starve myself. I know what came before. I know you're smiting me.

So burn me down.
So phase me out
You fuck my wound
 Opened the vein
Keep rubbing salt.
I feel no pain.
When you lie next to me

Lie next to me
Lie here with me
Please stay with me

Just stay with me
Just stay
Just stay
Just stay
Just stay with me