Thursday, December 8, 2011
time love
lost between the tossing and turning, i breathed in my sleep,
a breath i had shared with some words in my mind. i told you a story while you looked on with those eyes i miss so much.
so much time.
gone.
a breath i had shared with some words in my mind. i told you a story while you looked on with those eyes i miss so much.
so much time.
gone.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Sunday, July 31, 2011
a song i still like.
And how I wish that I could turn back the hours
But I know I just don't have the power,
Could it be any harder, to say goodbye without you,
To watch you go, to face whats true.
If i only had one more day...
Well I'd jump at the chance
We'd drink and we'd dance
And I'd listen close to your every word,
As if it's your last, but I know it's your last,
Cause today...
you're gone.
But I know I just don't have the power,
Could it be any harder, to say goodbye without you,
To watch you go, to face whats true.
If i only had one more day...
Well I'd jump at the chance
We'd drink and we'd dance
And I'd listen close to your every word,
As if it's your last, but I know it's your last,
Cause today...
you're gone.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
divinity? for 6 dollars.
today was a shit day altogether.
traffic in the morning.
i was late for work.
the car i was supposed to take wasnt there.
i got another complaint from a girl who said i was funny and such in the classroom, but aparently i made her uncomfortable during the lessons. i have a feeling that she may have sucked terribly... and mistaken my rage for people that cant learn simple things for bad vibes. so she came in to complain to the boss. and i heard about it when i got back from work.
i still dont know whether to be mad or not. as of now i dont really care.
and maybe thats the bad part.
so i walked out of the office and got in my shit car, with no air conditioning, and drive toward home.
i decide that i want to get my hair cut, now. i look like a damn hippie after all.
i drive to the barber shop i found years ago, the one with the great atmosphere and barbers that arent full of shit. the kind that dont pretend to care about your life for tips.
i walk in and sit down. the owner looks at me and says that there's newspapers and magazines if i need something to read. i politely decline.
then i notice that adrian himself is the only one there. strange.
i sit and wait for the guy getting his hair cut to leave.. then there's only one more in front of me. a young guy.
he sits down and asks for a medium regular.
my old Marine Corps ears prick up.
he discusses with adrian what it means and that it has to be within regulations.
i can tell he's in the military. ha.
adrian asks him where he's stationed. and he replies twentynine palms. at the sound of him saying that terrible places name i let out a loud "ugghh.. i hated that place."
and i explain that i was there for around a year. i ask the guy what hes doing there.. he says hes a marine. i say, well yeah... but what specifically. he says he's infantry.
i ask him what his MOS is. he says mortars.
i ask him which ones.. like a dumbass... big or small.
he replies the big ones, so i ask... 81's? and he answers yes.
my cousin was a martarman.. in charge of the 81mm mortars. i stop asking questions...
him and adrian the barber continue talking about how long he's been in and whether he will get shipped out somewhere. all the time i am quiet and nostalgic. i wonder if he will be alright.
adrian asks him how long his contract is... he replies 5 years.
then he asks me how long i was in and i tell him 5 years also.
i ask the young marine how he got 5 years, and he says, "bonus."
i laugh and say, me too.
then i tell him that my bonus was 5 grand. and that i was a dumbass kid when i made that decision.
i traded one year of my life for 5 grand.
the young marine says he got 7,500.
i think that still isnt enough.
then adrian gets a phone call, which he answers.
his face lights up as he talks vividly with the voice on the other end of the phone. about different times zones and calling back later. and maybe coming to visit the shop.
he finishes up the young marine and then its my turn. young to old.
i sit down and he asks me what i want. i tell him a 5 on the sides and 7 on top.
i tell him that i didnt know the shop was going on vacation. i just came in.
he says the fliers have been up for a month or so.
i say i havent been here in a year or so.
he says he remembers me.
then he tells me that he also had plans to leave on vacation like the rest of the shop, but they didnt work out. so instead of sitting at home watching t.v. in the heat, he came to work where it's air conditioned and he can talk to people.
he says he's happy at work. that being a barber always seemed like what he wanted to do. and he wouldnt wanna do anything else.
i think. and he talks. more.
he says he thought about opening a dry cleaners, but then decided to go to school to be a barber.
the way he explains barber school to me makes me realize it's pretty intense. he says it takes less time to become a cop than it does to cut hair.
he says that when he went to school he turned out to be really good at it. and that after he finished they asked him to come back as an instructor.
he says that on his first day when he saw the podium his knees were knocking together from nerves.
this makes me remember my first day of teaching. i was subbing for the instructor on a sunday so he could go to church. i was so nervous i didnt go into the classroom for about twenty minutes.
i got more nostalgic. because at one time, i loved my job. and now i dont know anymore.
he tells me that it blew his mind that all these students were looking to him for advice and knowledge. and that they called him mr. zamora. so he told them to call him adrian. cause he didnt wanna be so formal.
that made me laugh. cause a lot of teachers do that. including myself.
then he tells me about the voice on the phone.
he says its this guy who he met one day walking by on the street outside his shop.
the guy stopped into the shop and told adrian that he painted windows for a living but times were tough and that if he traded him a free haircut he would paint an advertisement on the window outside.
so adrian agreed. and gave him a haircut.
the guy painted a huge logo on the window and the phone number of the shop and a big barber pole.
adrian said that after he did that, he got all these phone calls and new business.
he went on to say that the guy ended up painting his windows for years after that. and that they became friends over the course of time.
that the guy would paint a different theme every month to go with the times.
but that eventually he ended up moving to oklahoma. and then his wife and kids followed him. only to end up in a messy divorce. lies and accusations laced with drugs and dont tell the kids.
and eventually the wife just left.
he went on to say that he had a new girlfriend now and that he was gonna come visit california again. adrian described the guy as a tall white guy with blue eyes that loves mexican food. he said he was gonna show his new girlfriend all the ghetto places like compton and east l.a. and we both laughed at that notion.
i found it odd and reassuring that this man would rather be at work than sitting at home doing nothing. i found it comforting that this wasnt just work to him. it was something he loved doing, and would do it regardless of needing to or not.
i wondered if i would ever find something like that. or if i would just float on through life with no real sense of being or worth.
my birthday is coming up and i have little to nothing to show for all the shit i've talked. for all the advice i have given. for all the stories i have shared. i have nothing i can say that i would do whether i had to or not.
all my dreams are exactly that. dreamer talk. wonderful things, if the world didnt exist the way it does.
i went to the barber shop and a man told me exactly what i wanted to hear. after a young man made me nostalgic. the fair is going on right now, and my birthday is coming up. like it used to, back in the 90's.
i paid 6 dollars today for the advice i hadnt found elsewhere. and i left feeling better about leaving work to try something different. another something i have always wanted to do.
i just dont like telling people things i wanna do because i feel like an ass when they dont work out.
you know... all i wanted was a pepsi. just one pepsi.
traffic in the morning.
i was late for work.
the car i was supposed to take wasnt there.
i got another complaint from a girl who said i was funny and such in the classroom, but aparently i made her uncomfortable during the lessons. i have a feeling that she may have sucked terribly... and mistaken my rage for people that cant learn simple things for bad vibes. so she came in to complain to the boss. and i heard about it when i got back from work.
i still dont know whether to be mad or not. as of now i dont really care.
and maybe thats the bad part.
so i walked out of the office and got in my shit car, with no air conditioning, and drive toward home.
i decide that i want to get my hair cut, now. i look like a damn hippie after all.
i drive to the barber shop i found years ago, the one with the great atmosphere and barbers that arent full of shit. the kind that dont pretend to care about your life for tips.
i walk in and sit down. the owner looks at me and says that there's newspapers and magazines if i need something to read. i politely decline.
then i notice that adrian himself is the only one there. strange.
i sit and wait for the guy getting his hair cut to leave.. then there's only one more in front of me. a young guy.
he sits down and asks for a medium regular.
my old Marine Corps ears prick up.
he discusses with adrian what it means and that it has to be within regulations.
i can tell he's in the military. ha.
adrian asks him where he's stationed. and he replies twentynine palms. at the sound of him saying that terrible places name i let out a loud "ugghh.. i hated that place."
and i explain that i was there for around a year. i ask the guy what hes doing there.. he says hes a marine. i say, well yeah... but what specifically. he says he's infantry.
i ask him what his MOS is. he says mortars.
i ask him which ones.. like a dumbass... big or small.
he replies the big ones, so i ask... 81's? and he answers yes.
my cousin was a martarman.. in charge of the 81mm mortars. i stop asking questions...
him and adrian the barber continue talking about how long he's been in and whether he will get shipped out somewhere. all the time i am quiet and nostalgic. i wonder if he will be alright.
adrian asks him how long his contract is... he replies 5 years.
then he asks me how long i was in and i tell him 5 years also.
i ask the young marine how he got 5 years, and he says, "bonus."
i laugh and say, me too.
then i tell him that my bonus was 5 grand. and that i was a dumbass kid when i made that decision.
i traded one year of my life for 5 grand.
the young marine says he got 7,500.
i think that still isnt enough.
then adrian gets a phone call, which he answers.
his face lights up as he talks vividly with the voice on the other end of the phone. about different times zones and calling back later. and maybe coming to visit the shop.
he finishes up the young marine and then its my turn. young to old.
i sit down and he asks me what i want. i tell him a 5 on the sides and 7 on top.
i tell him that i didnt know the shop was going on vacation. i just came in.
he says the fliers have been up for a month or so.
i say i havent been here in a year or so.
he says he remembers me.
then he tells me that he also had plans to leave on vacation like the rest of the shop, but they didnt work out. so instead of sitting at home watching t.v. in the heat, he came to work where it's air conditioned and he can talk to people.
he says he's happy at work. that being a barber always seemed like what he wanted to do. and he wouldnt wanna do anything else.
i think. and he talks. more.
he says he thought about opening a dry cleaners, but then decided to go to school to be a barber.
the way he explains barber school to me makes me realize it's pretty intense. he says it takes less time to become a cop than it does to cut hair.
he says that when he went to school he turned out to be really good at it. and that after he finished they asked him to come back as an instructor.
he says that on his first day when he saw the podium his knees were knocking together from nerves.
this makes me remember my first day of teaching. i was subbing for the instructor on a sunday so he could go to church. i was so nervous i didnt go into the classroom for about twenty minutes.
i got more nostalgic. because at one time, i loved my job. and now i dont know anymore.
he tells me that it blew his mind that all these students were looking to him for advice and knowledge. and that they called him mr. zamora. so he told them to call him adrian. cause he didnt wanna be so formal.
that made me laugh. cause a lot of teachers do that. including myself.
then he tells me about the voice on the phone.
he says its this guy who he met one day walking by on the street outside his shop.
the guy stopped into the shop and told adrian that he painted windows for a living but times were tough and that if he traded him a free haircut he would paint an advertisement on the window outside.
so adrian agreed. and gave him a haircut.
the guy painted a huge logo on the window and the phone number of the shop and a big barber pole.
adrian said that after he did that, he got all these phone calls and new business.
he went on to say that the guy ended up painting his windows for years after that. and that they became friends over the course of time.
that the guy would paint a different theme every month to go with the times.
but that eventually he ended up moving to oklahoma. and then his wife and kids followed him. only to end up in a messy divorce. lies and accusations laced with drugs and dont tell the kids.
and eventually the wife just left.
he went on to say that he had a new girlfriend now and that he was gonna come visit california again. adrian described the guy as a tall white guy with blue eyes that loves mexican food. he said he was gonna show his new girlfriend all the ghetto places like compton and east l.a. and we both laughed at that notion.
i found it odd and reassuring that this man would rather be at work than sitting at home doing nothing. i found it comforting that this wasnt just work to him. it was something he loved doing, and would do it regardless of needing to or not.
i wondered if i would ever find something like that. or if i would just float on through life with no real sense of being or worth.
my birthday is coming up and i have little to nothing to show for all the shit i've talked. for all the advice i have given. for all the stories i have shared. i have nothing i can say that i would do whether i had to or not.
all my dreams are exactly that. dreamer talk. wonderful things, if the world didnt exist the way it does.
i went to the barber shop and a man told me exactly what i wanted to hear. after a young man made me nostalgic. the fair is going on right now, and my birthday is coming up. like it used to, back in the 90's.
i paid 6 dollars today for the advice i hadnt found elsewhere. and i left feeling better about leaving work to try something different. another something i have always wanted to do.
i just dont like telling people things i wanna do because i feel like an ass when they dont work out.
you know... all i wanted was a pepsi. just one pepsi.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
in space, the stars, are no nearer.
i remember calling my girlfriend to come get me. i guess i had been depressed.
at the time, my parents had been fighting.
we lived in a two bedroom apartment with one bathroom. it seems like i was always depressed during that time.
i remember getting some stuff together, and telling my mom i was leaving. but i didnt tell her where.
im sure it didnt matter, seeing as i had a limited range of travel.
these things happen when you're growing up.
my mom started crying and asked me why i had to go. i told her... i feel like i dont have a family.
and i still remember what she said.
it stays in my mind, like a memory chiseled in stone.
with tears in her eyes, she says... sometimes i feel like i dont have a son.
of course i start crying, if i wasnt already. but my ride has arrived and its time to go.
throughout this whole time, my father just sat in his room and said nothing. he didnt even yell at me.
i walked out the door and got into the car. i dont remember if sam was there or not, but i do remember the music. it was Hey Joe, by Jimi Hendrix. we drove down the road. i listened to that song and cried. but it was the solo that really got me. i have always liked something about that solo, and that night, it brought me home. too bad i didnt know where home was.
i was 16.
i had a gun and a reason, but all i could do was stand still and watch the stars fade away everything in my world.
when you're 16, things change. relationships shift, some break, and things are never the same.
i dont remember where i ended up that night. but i knew i came back a few days later.
i left for the marines a year or so after that. i always tell people that i joined the military so i didnt have to go to school. and part of me believes that. but part of me suspects that i left to get away from that place.
you and me, we grew up together.
as soon as we learned to walk, we ran as far as we could.
all the time, searching for something we already had.
Hey Joe...
at the time, my parents had been fighting.
we lived in a two bedroom apartment with one bathroom. it seems like i was always depressed during that time.
i remember getting some stuff together, and telling my mom i was leaving. but i didnt tell her where.
im sure it didnt matter, seeing as i had a limited range of travel.
these things happen when you're growing up.
my mom started crying and asked me why i had to go. i told her... i feel like i dont have a family.
and i still remember what she said.
it stays in my mind, like a memory chiseled in stone.
with tears in her eyes, she says... sometimes i feel like i dont have a son.
of course i start crying, if i wasnt already. but my ride has arrived and its time to go.
throughout this whole time, my father just sat in his room and said nothing. he didnt even yell at me.
i walked out the door and got into the car. i dont remember if sam was there or not, but i do remember the music. it was Hey Joe, by Jimi Hendrix. we drove down the road. i listened to that song and cried. but it was the solo that really got me. i have always liked something about that solo, and that night, it brought me home. too bad i didnt know where home was.
i was 16.
i had a gun and a reason, but all i could do was stand still and watch the stars fade away everything in my world.
when you're 16, things change. relationships shift, some break, and things are never the same.
i dont remember where i ended up that night. but i knew i came back a few days later.
i left for the marines a year or so after that. i always tell people that i joined the military so i didnt have to go to school. and part of me believes that. but part of me suspects that i left to get away from that place.
you and me, we grew up together.
as soon as we learned to walk, we ran as far as we could.
all the time, searching for something we already had.
Hey Joe...
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
lean on me.
i have no role models.
i have no one i can go to for advice. or to talk about life. and what to expect.
everything i have done, was accomplished without the help of a pillar.
that's probably why i have accomplished nothing.
the few things my father has told me weren't ground breaking, but they were something.
most of my friends are in the same situation. and because of this we have leaned on each other, sometimes. but friendship only goes so far.
this past week i got pneumonia. if it wasn't for all the women in my life telling me to go to the hospital, i probably would have just died, alone.
seeing as i was close to death, things changed in my view. i felt calm.
i felt like i was ready. laying there in the hospital emergency room with a cold i.v. sticking out of my arm.
i could have gone.
happily.
i'm always ready to give up.
i have no fight in me.
i was talking at sam the other day, still recovering, and the same thing always comes up. i always say... i dont live in the same world as everyone else.
i believe this.
and sam just watched t.v.
when i needed my father, he let me down. and in turn, i have done the same thing to everyone i have ever cared about.
i will always hold on to a tiny spark i saw once in this life.
i felt it. and i will never let that go. even if everyone else has.
something strange happened that summer in 2000, everyone kept moving forward... and i stayed in the same place.
i stopped to look at the stars ten years ago, and now i cant find my way back.
i guess this is just me telling you that im not doing alright.
you were the lion within the lamb.
my way back home in the dark.
but something wanted you back
and my selfish mind wont let you go
who do you tell your stories to now?
do you still smile like before?
do you miss me?
and when it came... did he give you a chance.
before the end.
did you think of me, before you went?
did you think of me, before you went?
i couldn't make it if i tried.
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
i have no one i can go to for advice. or to talk about life. and what to expect.
everything i have done, was accomplished without the help of a pillar.
that's probably why i have accomplished nothing.
the few things my father has told me weren't ground breaking, but they were something.
most of my friends are in the same situation. and because of this we have leaned on each other, sometimes. but friendship only goes so far.
this past week i got pneumonia. if it wasn't for all the women in my life telling me to go to the hospital, i probably would have just died, alone.
seeing as i was close to death, things changed in my view. i felt calm.
i felt like i was ready. laying there in the hospital emergency room with a cold i.v. sticking out of my arm.
i could have gone.
happily.
i'm always ready to give up.
i have no fight in me.
i was talking at sam the other day, still recovering, and the same thing always comes up. i always say... i dont live in the same world as everyone else.
i believe this.
and sam just watched t.v.
when i needed my father, he let me down. and in turn, i have done the same thing to everyone i have ever cared about.
i will always hold on to a tiny spark i saw once in this life.
i felt it. and i will never let that go. even if everyone else has.
something strange happened that summer in 2000, everyone kept moving forward... and i stayed in the same place.
i stopped to look at the stars ten years ago, and now i cant find my way back.
i guess this is just me telling you that im not doing alright.
you were the lion within the lamb.
my way back home in the dark.
but something wanted you back
and my selfish mind wont let you go
who do you tell your stories to now?
do you still smile like before?
do you miss me?
and when it came... did he give you a chance.
before the end.
did you think of me, before you went?
did you think of me, before you went?
i couldn't make it if i tried.
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
home
home is a concept, by which we measure our loneliness.
another night slips from my grasp, so close that i can almost tell im fucking it up.
i kept all the receipts and napkins scribbled with happy faces and i love yous, in my pocket.
when i reached in to pull them out i realized that i had washed them all. and all that was left were faded fragments of times i romanticized into greatness.
i always step out when everything is going well, and i find a way to mess it up.
theres nothing that can be done to cure this longing for home. my home.
i remember when i left to combat training, all i wanted to do was come home. and when i came home... all i wanted to do was be somewhere else. with you.
with me.
i dont know who i am, and i dont know where home is.
people have always held places for me, in line, in their hearts, in their memories, but i cant be everywhere at the same time. reality could never do. for me.
the truth is, i may be a depressive. and im only happy when i'm depressed.
its just so easy to think about the bad things. and so hard to learn to smile.
i have lived the life i wrote out, and i have failed to write a happy ending.
i saw the stars one time when i was younger, and i remember having this feeling that i belonged somewhere else... somewhere not here.
i just want to go home.
i just want you to come home.
...dont ever tell anyone the truth. cause then they start to think differently of you.
another night slips from my grasp, so close that i can almost tell im fucking it up.
i kept all the receipts and napkins scribbled with happy faces and i love yous, in my pocket.
when i reached in to pull them out i realized that i had washed them all. and all that was left were faded fragments of times i romanticized into greatness.
i always step out when everything is going well, and i find a way to mess it up.
theres nothing that can be done to cure this longing for home. my home.
i remember when i left to combat training, all i wanted to do was come home. and when i came home... all i wanted to do was be somewhere else. with you.
with me.
i dont know who i am, and i dont know where home is.
people have always held places for me, in line, in their hearts, in their memories, but i cant be everywhere at the same time. reality could never do. for me.
the truth is, i may be a depressive. and im only happy when i'm depressed.
its just so easy to think about the bad things. and so hard to learn to smile.
i have lived the life i wrote out, and i have failed to write a happy ending.
i saw the stars one time when i was younger, and i remember having this feeling that i belonged somewhere else... somewhere not here.
i just want to go home.
i just want you to come home.
...dont ever tell anyone the truth. cause then they start to think differently of you.
Friday, May 6, 2011
something i read.
i remember when we were in bootcamp they gave us the option to buy a yearbook and several portraits and such of the terrible pictures they had made us take.
me being me bought a yearbook, and maybe a few normal sized portraits. eight-by-tens i believe.
and my cousin, being who he was, bought the Ultimate Narcissist Package. hahaha
there was huge portraits, wallets, five-by-sixes, and even fridge magnets.
i always got a kick out of that.
i was reading an old conversation i had with my sister and she said...
(sister): mami has the big one of him in uniform next to her bed
(me): i remember he laughed cause he bought the biggest ones..
(sister): yea, and magnets forthe fridge
(me): i forgot those...hahaha!!
(sister): yea we have one
(sister): n he had keychains
(me): yeah.
but thats just the kind of person he was. not necessarily full of himself. just always trying to be so much to everyone else.
i read that and it made me smile. thinking of the huge envelope of pictures that arrived at the house.
hahaha
me being me bought a yearbook, and maybe a few normal sized portraits. eight-by-tens i believe.
and my cousin, being who he was, bought the Ultimate Narcissist Package. hahaha
there was huge portraits, wallets, five-by-sixes, and even fridge magnets.
i always got a kick out of that.
i was reading an old conversation i had with my sister and she said...
(sister): mami has the big one of him in uniform next to her bed
(me): i remember he laughed cause he bought the biggest ones..
(sister): yea, and magnets forthe fridge
(me): i forgot those...hahaha!!
(sister): yea we have one
(sister): n he had keychains
(me): yeah.
but thats just the kind of person he was. not necessarily full of himself. just always trying to be so much to everyone else.
i read that and it made me smile. thinking of the huge envelope of pictures that arrived at the house.
hahaha
my version of the end of The Great Gatsby.
tomorrow we will wake up.
into the oncoming crowd.
hiding our faces,
hiding our thorns.
eyes searching for the one we want.
the one we need at our heels.
and so we run, farther from the sun each day.
until one day, we forget what it was like to have that warmth...only true love may bring.
into the oncoming crowd.
hiding our faces,
hiding our thorns.
eyes searching for the one we want.
the one we need at our heels.
and so we run, farther from the sun each day.
until one day, we forget what it was like to have that warmth...only true love may bring.
more old stuff
Dreams are so deceiving
Especially the ones you want to stay
A taste of what could be.
The way things aren't
How i wish you were here
Especially the ones you want to stay
A taste of what could be.
The way things aren't
How i wish you were here
something old from Dec. 07, 2006.
the date on this file is dec 07, 2006. it is probably from an earlier time though.
you coulda been someone
i remember when we met. i remember how ifell
we were only kids. but i still remember.
i was a poor boy, and you were a queen.
my tattered shoes, hand-me-downs.
my shirts, second hand.
your eyes blue as ice, with an outline of coal.
your hair black as midnight and wonderfully short.
i had never seen a girl like you before
and i faded into the background, as i always did, hiding all my shortcomings...my material faults. after all, what could i give you that hadn't already been offered.
and i couldn't believe when you walked up to me.
you asked me my name.
"christian" i exhaled.
"i like that name." you said, with a smile so inviting , filled with promises that everything would be secondary to me.
"wha-...whats your name?" i barely returned.
you said.."Luminara"
and i melted inside, while my soul turned its light towards the beautiful girl and the candy cane words we exchanged.
i saw you again. day after day.
in the morning when we walked to school.
if it was cold, i gave you my mittens.
if you let me, i carried your books, and we sat together during lunch. you, kicking the back of my chair playfully in class.
me, writing you notes and leaving them in your desk.
almost like playground love.
we would walk home from school.
slow.
dragging out our time.
if you got cold, i'd give you my jacket.
if i got cold...you'd hold my hand, and give me a hug, while the words we never said, floated in the air around us like flower petals on their way to the ground.
all the time your beautiful smile ensuring me that i would always be ok.
with you around.
my heart illuminated from within by your firefly words i was holding inside.
and i brought up my hand, to your pale moonrise face, while my knees struggled to stay in place.
i pushed the hair out of your face and looked into your eyes expecting to see all the world in return.
but he vision was empty.
nothing more than your blue, nothing less than
than me without you.
but i brushed it off and we lived out our school days.
if i got sick and missed a day, you'd come to visit and share some of your smiles with me.
i saved every last one.
And summer stayed and winter went.
i thought that you were heaven sent.
my dirty clothes and ratty things were never a match for your angel wings.
but you didn't care.
and the days went on.
i remember.
the next year in school. i didn't see you.
i went to your house.
but no one was there and the window to your room revealed a house empty and dark.
you had moved while i was away.
and now you were gone.
and i was alone again.
wanting nothing more than to go back to the start.
back to the sunrise days which seemed never ending.
when you held my hand, and i held your heart.
i wished i had known, i wished you hadn't gone.
i remember nothing was the same .anymore .
i walked, just to get where i was going.
i sat alone in class. and watched from the back as the world blurred and fast forwarded while i stood still.
and no one ever compared to you.
i started playing guitar years later. and i started a band.
i wrote songs about Luminara.
but nothing would bring back that feeling from when she used to sing me that song.
that song that still makes me cry every time.
i hear it.
and somewhere along the way, under streetlights that have gone out, and past all the cloud covered days where the rain falls like tear drops heavy and from the heart.
i was standing on stage.
with my guitar.
and my rag-tag band.
in between songs.
when i saw a girl in the very front row.
all alone.
with stunning black hair, chin-length. and these two eyes that shone bright, passed all the stage lights and crowd, like two comets racing through the sky letting off trails of blue.
it was you.
And immediately . i knew the song i would play.
so i played it.
i was a poor boy\and you were a queen
and i couldn't talk to you with my self esteem
so you asked me my name\and i walked you home
i never thought i would end up alone...
Luminara\i cant let go\ each time i think of you
and all the things that we went through
another day will pass\ and i'll forget the way you used to\
hold my hand\
the way you'd always understand
now im left like your eyes\blue
Luminara\i never got to say goodbye to you....
and when i said her name... my punk rock disguise vanished and she remembered the boy from yesterday and their story.
and i could see a mascara trail from the bottom of her eye to the corner of her lips where a tear had gone to rest.
she jumped up on stage and gave me a hug with the smile on her face, as a promise that i'd never lose her again.
and i looked into her eyes and saw my reflection, her, the past, and the world.
i reached up with my hand, to touch her face, and i pushed the hair out of her eyes and kissed her our first kiss.
the way i should have so many years before.
i remember Luminara..
you coulda been someone
i remember when we met. i remember how ifell
we were only kids. but i still remember.
i was a poor boy, and you were a queen.
my tattered shoes, hand-me-downs.
my shirts, second hand.
your eyes blue as ice, with an outline of coal.
your hair black as midnight and wonderfully short.
i had never seen a girl like you before
and i faded into the background, as i always did, hiding all my shortcomings...my material faults. after all, what could i give you that hadn't already been offered.
and i couldn't believe when you walked up to me.
you asked me my name.
"christian" i exhaled.
"i like that name." you said, with a smile so inviting , filled with promises that everything would be secondary to me.
"wha-...whats your name?" i barely returned.
you said.."Luminara"
and i melted inside, while my soul turned its light towards the beautiful girl and the candy cane words we exchanged.
i saw you again. day after day.
in the morning when we walked to school.
if it was cold, i gave you my mittens.
if you let me, i carried your books, and we sat together during lunch. you, kicking the back of my chair playfully in class.
me, writing you notes and leaving them in your desk.
almost like playground love.
we would walk home from school.
slow.
dragging out our time.
if you got cold, i'd give you my jacket.
if i got cold...you'd hold my hand, and give me a hug, while the words we never said, floated in the air around us like flower petals on their way to the ground.
all the time your beautiful smile ensuring me that i would always be ok.
with you around.
my heart illuminated from within by your firefly words i was holding inside.
and i brought up my hand, to your pale moonrise face, while my knees struggled to stay in place.
i pushed the hair out of your face and looked into your eyes expecting to see all the world in return.
but he vision was empty.
nothing more than your blue, nothing less than
than me without you.
but i brushed it off and we lived out our school days.
if i got sick and missed a day, you'd come to visit and share some of your smiles with me.
i saved every last one.
And summer stayed and winter went.
i thought that you were heaven sent.
my dirty clothes and ratty things were never a match for your angel wings.
but you didn't care.
and the days went on.
i remember.
the next year in school. i didn't see you.
i went to your house.
but no one was there and the window to your room revealed a house empty and dark.
you had moved while i was away.
and now you were gone.
and i was alone again.
wanting nothing more than to go back to the start.
back to the sunrise days which seemed never ending.
when you held my hand, and i held your heart.
i wished i had known, i wished you hadn't gone.
i remember nothing was the same .anymore .
i walked, just to get where i was going.
i sat alone in class. and watched from the back as the world blurred and fast forwarded while i stood still.
and no one ever compared to you.
i started playing guitar years later. and i started a band.
i wrote songs about Luminara.
but nothing would bring back that feeling from when she used to sing me that song.
that song that still makes me cry every time.
i hear it.
and somewhere along the way, under streetlights that have gone out, and past all the cloud covered days where the rain falls like tear drops heavy and from the heart.
i was standing on stage.
with my guitar.
and my rag-tag band.
in between songs.
when i saw a girl in the very front row.
all alone.
with stunning black hair, chin-length. and these two eyes that shone bright, passed all the stage lights and crowd, like two comets racing through the sky letting off trails of blue.
it was you.
And immediately . i knew the song i would play.
so i played it.
i was a poor boy\and you were a queen
and i couldn't talk to you with my self esteem
so you asked me my name\and i walked you home
i never thought i would end up alone...
Luminara\i cant let go\ each time i think of you
and all the things that we went through
another day will pass\ and i'll forget the way you used to\
hold my hand\
the way you'd always understand
now im left like your eyes\blue
Luminara\i never got to say goodbye to you....
and when i said her name... my punk rock disguise vanished and she remembered the boy from yesterday and their story.
and i could see a mascara trail from the bottom of her eye to the corner of her lips where a tear had gone to rest.
she jumped up on stage and gave me a hug with the smile on her face, as a promise that i'd never lose her again.
and i looked into her eyes and saw my reflection, her, the past, and the world.
i reached up with my hand, to touch her face, and i pushed the hair out of her eyes and kissed her our first kiss.
the way i should have so many years before.
i remember Luminara..
Sunday, May 1, 2011
time
i just heard that osama bin laden was killed. im emotional. im happy. im reminiscant. im all kinds of things right now. all at once.
this is such a monumental thing to happen. i wish my cousin was here to see this. more than anything.
this is such a monumental thing to happen. i wish my cousin was here to see this. more than anything.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
April 28 2011 (you know i'll always love you)
i've treated you badly. and most times im not really sure how to show my true admiration for you. i always thought you were a permanent fixture for me.
something i could depend on.
the rising of the sun, without imagining the setting. ive settled in and wrapped myself in this blanket i found. and now i cant get out.
i have thoroughly enjoyed our time together, and honestly, i wish there was more. you left your scent on everything i am, but it's fading with ebb and with flow.
so stay a while and hold my hand, im not sure if im ready to go. tomorrow slips into the sky, all the time reflecting the world.
on a string, close behind, steady following flutters a note....
i w i l l a l w a y s l o v e y o u,
i w i l l a l w a y s l o v e y o u .
Friday, April 22, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
i'll never forget you.
...he was telling me about this girl. and how they were swinging on a swing.
her on top of him.
and the chain broke in mid-air. he said it "hurt like hell."
thinking, he said..."i liked swinging with her."
(looking as if he wanted to be back there again. and not telling someone the story in some guard shack thousands of miles away from home.)
it was awesome.
everyone has their stars. somewhere.
her on top of him.
and the chain broke in mid-air. he said it "hurt like hell."
thinking, he said..."i liked swinging with her."
(looking as if he wanted to be back there again. and not telling someone the story in some guard shack thousands of miles away from home.)
it was awesome.
everyone has their stars. somewhere.
"we" made this. (10.02.2004)
(i was looking through some old blogs and i found this interesting piece. its a blog made entirely of someone elses blog posts. here is the blog)
i made this from pieces of what you have written... most of it i read for the first time... today. i think you figured i had read it all before... maybe i dont lie all the time.
.boys of summer and dreams ice cold.
by; me and you.
how is it that. one girl's innocent relationship. needed
more attention that i gave.
instead of just games.
to transfer this pain. i start runnin.
.and. when i get too close. you just salt the wounds.
how is it that. i. a.m still going through withdrawal
and another day has almost come and gone
.you. divide me. with guiltless eyes.
b.u.t. i'm not gonna lose sleep. i'm not gonna cry.
hold your tongue boy. because you're. running out of time.
burn your. worthless. bridges...shut your mouth.
.now listen.
i'm back. and. every now and then. you are the only one.
bitter. and .sweet meeting. vague. belie.f.s.
playin the guitar. or not...
i wasn't around...
and. i'm sorry i can't be. The Killer. o.f. you. r. heart.
...but. you will never know.
i cried. i died. when. you. lied.
don't try to make things right. destroy. me. if you. like.
destroy things. destroy. people. destroy my. trust.
i. am. nothing special.
true.
if you tell me. i will fight.
make. believe. that. The. w.or.l.d. is. sa.fe. for. you. and. me. t.on.ight.
while. you. destroy. your. emotional connection. to. every. one.
maybe this is why we never work out.
you. are. distorted. my. Friend.
.me.. i am sober. again.
i made this from pieces of what you have written... most of it i read for the first time... today. i think you figured i had read it all before... maybe i dont lie all the time.
.boys of summer and dreams ice cold.
by; me and you.
how is it that. one girl's innocent relationship. needed
more attention that i gave.
instead of just games.
to transfer this pain. i start runnin.
.and. when i get too close. you just salt the wounds.
how is it that. i. a.m still going through withdrawal
and another day has almost come and gone
.you. divide me. with guiltless eyes.
b.u.t. i'm not gonna lose sleep. i'm not gonna cry.
hold your tongue boy. because you're. running out of time.
burn your. worthless. bridges...shut your mouth.
.now listen.
i'm back. and. every now and then. you are the only one.
bitter. and .sweet meeting. vague. belie.f.s.
playin the guitar. or not...
i wasn't around...
and. i'm sorry i can't be. The Killer. o.f. you. r. heart.
...but. you will never know.
i cried. i died. when. you. lied.
don't try to make things right. destroy. me. if you. like.
destroy things. destroy. people. destroy my. trust.
i. am. nothing special.
true.
if you tell me. i will fight.
make. believe. that. The. w.or.l.d. is. sa.fe. for. you. and. me. t.on.ight.
while. you. destroy. your. emotional connection. to. every. one.
maybe this is why we never work out.
you. are. distorted. my. Friend.
.me.. i am sober. again.
some uninspired posts for the sake or writing again. (04.05.2011)
*all the things i want to do are locked away.
my will is the sky, vast and uncharted.
the stars are my dreams.
some thing pretty from far away,
but no one could ever reach them.
and maybe thats the appeal of it all.
but i never stop looking up at them.
'cause what are stars without someone to look up at them.
*you hold me down. i said.
your plans are all lies disguised in hope and washed with the past.
like money, you make new ones and the old ones become worthless. slowly.
still around in the pocket of and old coat, sometime.
re-discovered and held again, warm in your hand.
never as good as the first time.
but treasured anew. the shine in your eyes back in place, for a moment.
all this time, an illusion.
my will is the sky, vast and uncharted.
the stars are my dreams.
some thing pretty from far away,
but no one could ever reach them.
and maybe thats the appeal of it all.
but i never stop looking up at them.
'cause what are stars without someone to look up at them.
*you hold me down. i said.
your plans are all lies disguised in hope and washed with the past.
like money, you make new ones and the old ones become worthless. slowly.
still around in the pocket of and old coat, sometime.
re-discovered and held again, warm in your hand.
never as good as the first time.
but treasured anew. the shine in your eyes back in place, for a moment.
all this time, an illusion.
the things we couldnt mend. (04.04.2011)
It's usually Randy that has the nostalgia attacks as far as friends are concerned. but last time we hung out, it was me. I found myself going to work the next morning, stuck in traffic, thinking about the way things had been before. that feeling you get when you leave.
when i leave.
i thought about saying "fuck work" and leaving to Las Vegas.
i thought about staying home and playing music.
i thought about being somewhere else besides what i had become.
but i just drove to work.
i drove to work and i switched places with my friend randy for an instant.
i wondered if we were different people now, if things had gone different ways. but that just made me sad.
i thought about the road trip we took in 2005, and how NOT according to plan it had gone.
but how much fun it is now talking about our experiences.
the stories.
i wondered if we would do things like that in the future.
i remembered randys soliloquy to the camera when we got to oklahoma, and how depressingly funny it was. you could almost hear the theme to Deliverance playing in the background.
and a wave of thoughts beat back all my sanity and i lost myself.
when i came to... all i wanted was to be back there again, in that warm oklahoma night.
me, randy, and erwin.
not a care in the world.
when i leave.
i thought about saying "fuck work" and leaving to Las Vegas.
i thought about staying home and playing music.
i thought about being somewhere else besides what i had become.
but i just drove to work.
i drove to work and i switched places with my friend randy for an instant.
i wondered if we were different people now, if things had gone different ways. but that just made me sad.
i thought about the road trip we took in 2005, and how NOT according to plan it had gone.
but how much fun it is now talking about our experiences.
the stories.
i wondered if we would do things like that in the future.
i remembered randys soliloquy to the camera when we got to oklahoma, and how depressingly funny it was. you could almost hear the theme to Deliverance playing in the background.
and a wave of thoughts beat back all my sanity and i lost myself.
when i came to... all i wanted was to be back there again, in that warm oklahoma night.
me, randy, and erwin.
not a care in the world.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
i had a dream last night...
i drove down the road last night. and i wanted to hear a song.
i played this song and rolled down my window and let my hand fly through the cold night air as i drove to nowhere. and back.
i thought of you.
then i remembered a familiar taste reaching the corner of my lips...
the clouds whisped by with streetlights trying to impress them with a glow that only those of us that are wandering can see.
and i tasted salt.
i had a dream last night. i woke up out of my bed and my cousin was sitting in my chair. in front of my tv. watching tv.
he was wearing a pair of tan pants and a grey shirt. his hair was short. like in the picture of him that hangs near my bed.
i sat up and we talked.
i remember asking him questions.
and laughing.
i remember smiling.
i remember not being sad... i just wanted him to tell me a story.
but the morning was trying hard to take him away, and things started to get fuzzy... hazy.
i knew i was dreaming. i always know.
even in my dreams i know it isnt real.
so i tried hard to get him to stay...
i asked him about the war... but he wouldnt answer me. he just changed the subject and looked at me with those eyes. the same eyes that he looked at me with when i got out of that taxi in okinawa. i got out of that taxi and told him to write me.
and i never saw him again.
i was feeling bad last night, and he came to me.
he never lets me down. he never did.
and all i have ever been is a bastard.
i had a dream last night... it took place in my room.
i sat up in bed and he was there... watching t.v.
and in between the words i had saved for this moment, the time erased him back to wherever he is, like waves on a beach where i had written a wish and stood by as i watched it disappear.
"...The black clouds I'm hanging
This anchor I'm dragging
The sails of memory rip open in silence
We cut through the lowlands
All hands through the saltlands
The white caps of memory
Confusing and violent
I had a dream last night..."
.i feel terrible.
i played this song and rolled down my window and let my hand fly through the cold night air as i drove to nowhere. and back.
i thought of you.
then i remembered a familiar taste reaching the corner of my lips...
the clouds whisped by with streetlights trying to impress them with a glow that only those of us that are wandering can see.
and i tasted salt.
i had a dream last night. i woke up out of my bed and my cousin was sitting in my chair. in front of my tv. watching tv.
he was wearing a pair of tan pants and a grey shirt. his hair was short. like in the picture of him that hangs near my bed.
i sat up and we talked.
i remember asking him questions.
and laughing.
i remember smiling.
i remember not being sad... i just wanted him to tell me a story.
but the morning was trying hard to take him away, and things started to get fuzzy... hazy.
i knew i was dreaming. i always know.
even in my dreams i know it isnt real.
so i tried hard to get him to stay...
i asked him about the war... but he wouldnt answer me. he just changed the subject and looked at me with those eyes. the same eyes that he looked at me with when i got out of that taxi in okinawa. i got out of that taxi and told him to write me.
and i never saw him again.
i was feeling bad last night, and he came to me.
he never lets me down. he never did.
and all i have ever been is a bastard.
i had a dream last night... it took place in my room.
i sat up in bed and he was there... watching t.v.
and in between the words i had saved for this moment, the time erased him back to wherever he is, like waves on a beach where i had written a wish and stood by as i watched it disappear.
"...The black clouds I'm hanging
This anchor I'm dragging
The sails of memory rip open in silence
We cut through the lowlands
All hands through the saltlands
The white caps of memory
Confusing and violent
I had a dream last night..."
.i feel terrible.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Dont know much about history.
My cousin always used to say that "wonderful world" by sam cooke was his song. He would laugh his goofy laugh and sing in that voice he had... "dont know much about history, dont know much biology, dont know much about a science book, dont know much about the french i took" and we would both laugh.
my life has never been the same after march 23, 2003. although i didnt hear the news until the 25th i believe, i wrote something on the 23rd. its a poem i wrote because i felt something was wrong. i felt it. i was worried about my cousin and i told jennifer that i felt bad. but i knew it was something different. i could feel it.
my cousin and i might as well have been brothers. we were one year apart in age and almost born in the same month and time frame. he was 4 august 81, and i was 25 july 82. and although i remember my side of the story vividly, this isnt about me.
i have been struggling to write this for several years. to let everyone else know what happened to him. sometimes in my drunkenness i had let slip some details, but never a full story. i have collected books, word of mouth, an 800 page military report with the details blacked out still, written statements, pictures, and many little pieces because i thought it would make me feel better... if i knew. and it somewhat has. but nothing changes the outcome.
the following is a short version of the story. from what i know, what i've read in books, and all my reports and other findings. although some of the stories conflict, it is expected. its war. no one is clear headed then. i dont mean to offend anyone. i just need to get this out.
In this battle, the lack of good communications cut the marines throats. the plan was simple and it involved Alpha, Bravo and Charlie Companies and some tanks. but that didnt happen. what happened instead was a mess with enough blame to throw in every direction and still have enough left over to eat later. in the confusion the tanks that had been in the lead went around the city of An Nasiriyah as planned and immediately got stuck several feet deep in mud. the rest of the tanks had to go back down south to refuel after rescuing the army who had fucked up and went the wrong way and got mostly killed or captured. this meant that marching toward An Nasiriyah were three companies of track mounted marines. (the track being a thin skinned tracked vehicle used to transport marines and not intended for urban warfare) all in a line with no tanks in the lead. as they crossed the first bridge into the city the lead element (bravo co.) missed a turn and got stuck in a field of mud while taking fire from machine guns and rockets. alpha did as they were supposed to and secured the southern bridge. and Charlie co., the company my cousin was in, decided to push north through ambush alley (the main road determined to be the most dangerous place in the city to drive through) because they thought bravo had done the same. at the same time the lead element Bravo co. lost virtually all communications and was not able to relay position to the other companies. at this point all the companies were taking heavy fire.
the stage was set. Charlie co. was headed north to the canal bridge through ambush alley.
driving through ambush alley in their tracks the were receiving a massive amount of fire from what seemed to be all directions. iraqis were dressed as civilians, shooting out of windows and hiding again. even waving white flags then shooting immediately afterward from the same windows.
somewhere along the way 2nd Lt. Fred Pokorney got hit in the arm from what was later thought to be a ricochet from a bullet. he shook it off and kept fighting with the other marines.
Lt. Ben Reid was commander of track 208. snaking through enemy fire track 208 got hit with an RPG round, the marines inside awaited death with uncertainty. but the RPG didnt explode, instead it just got stuck in one of the packs that lined the outside of the tracks. the explosion never came.
it was observed that iraqis were putting AK's over balconies and firing sporadically and hiding again. the marines that were fighting back thanked god that the iraqis didnt seem to have any marksmanship at all. and the heavy fire continued. sometimes the rockets would explode close by, sometimes they wouldn't explode or wizz by their heads and fly off.
On their way through the city one of the tracks took a rocket to the wheel well and five marines inside were injured critically ( i believe this was track 211). as they reached the canal bridge track 201 realizes that Charlie co. was all alone. bravo had not been in front of them at all. but the marines would not lay down, through the heavy fire of machine guns, rockets and small arms the marines managed to push through to the northern bridge
the marines dismounted the tracks which were battered but still mostly working and took a defensive position near the canal bridge. as they returned fire the incoming fire was steadily increasing, including now machine guns, rockets, and mortars.
Lt. Reid exited the track and began setting up the mortars to suppress some of the fire coming from what seemed to be all directions. As the mortars started firing, 2nd Lt. Pokorney ran up to Lt. Reid and yelled that there was no communications to anyone else. Lt. Reid then told 2nd Lt. Pokorney to keep trying.
Corporal Jose Garibay was mortar squad leader..(something i did not know) and was directing fire to the west to try and stop the enemy fire which was still increasing in rate. Lt. Reid stood up at one point to get a better view of where the fire was coming from when 2nd Lt. Pokorney tackled him and yelled "you stupid fucker, you're going to get us all killed!" But the truth was that with no comm back to the heavy artillery the fire from the buildings would not stop. So Lt. Reid shouted to Cpl Garibay "pick up your shit and bring your crew. we're going to move your position sixty meters to the south!"
At this point no one knows charlie is up north. but the marines in the rear have become aware that there may be a mechanized unit north of the canal bridge. although high level command has ceased to exist because of the lack of comm, the small unit leadership is working. marines are fighting like they're suppose to. all the while the fire directed toward charlie company is intensifying. RPG's and machine guns are starting to inflict injuries to marines making the job of the navy corpsmen harder. at one point there isnt enough corpsmen to help all the injured marines.
The mortars coming from the buildings were getting closer.
to add to the confusion, track 211 which was hit coming through the city was still on fire and beginning to cook off live rounds that were inside of it. the marines wondered who was shooting at them until they discovered it was their own equipment.
Then Lt. Reid moved the mortars to the canal bridge while incoming fire was steadily increasing in accuracy. An RPG whizzed over his head and exploded 100 meters behind him. then 2nd Lt. Pokorney ran to tell Lt. Reid that he was able to get through to call artillery. Lt. Ried said he knew he could do it. 2nd Lt. Pokorney ran back to his position with the other marines.
Just then there was a tremendous explosion behind Lt. Reid. as the dust cleared he notices his arm isnt missing as he thought, but broken badly. Cpl Jorge Gonzalez then said to Lt. Reid, "thats too bad sir".. from his tone Lt. Reid could tell things were terribly wrong. immediately after, Cpl Garibay relayed to Lt. Reid, "Sir, Buesing is dead." Then he looked right and saw 2nd Lt. Pokorney on the floor next to Staff Sergeant Jordan. Jordan had been the marine that all the other marines looked up to. Lt. Reid then ran to 2nd Lt. Pokorney and turned him over to see his facial structure shattered, and his body crumpled. he looked again at Buesing and went completely numb.
Lt. Reid then turned to Garibay who was standing right beside him, staring at him with the biggest eyes hes ever seen, alive, but also injured, and said "you keep everyone here. im going to get help!" He ran about 20 meters then got hit again, although he didnt know it at the time. He was laying face down in the dirt, and his eye wouldnt open. As he lay there a million thoughts raced through his mind, he wondered what to do... to just die? is this how it happened? or try and get up? For some reason he got up. seeing a track with his one good eye he ran for it. he crawled into the track and told the marines that they needed to evacuate casualties. and to get up on the guns and kill everything in sight. probably in a bit more colorful language than that.
At the same time the company commander for Charlie Company saw the bodies of four Marines, they had been killed instantly; SSgt Philip Jordan, Cpl Jorge Gonzalez, 2nd Lt. Fred Pokorney, Lcpl Brian Buesing. As the casualties mounted, there was nowhere to take them. No helicopters could land because of all the fire being taken, and no one could call in for air support because it wasnt clear where the other companies were located.
Earlier in the deployment a new kind of air support had been authorized where the forward air controller (FAC) gave the aircraft a geographical area to cover without seeing the enemy himself. So it was up to the pilots to decide what was enemy or not, and A-10's had a notorious past of killing friendlies.
The FAC was able to call in to the aircraft to go to the north to clear out was was thought to be a mechanized unit coming in to the city to attack the marines. unfortunately to FAC was in the south and didnt know the location of Charlie company. and he relayed to the aircraft, the A-10's to engage the enemy north of the city. through all the confusion the A-10's misidentified Charlies companies tracks as enemy vehicles seeing as they were Air Force and hadn't received training on Marine vehicles. at the same time the FAC thought they were looking at a completely different area. seeing as no one was supposed to be that far north the FAC told the pilots no friendlies were up there, even though he had no confirmation on that.
On the ground, the commander of track 201, thinking he was the only one left in charge, yelled for everyone to get back in the tracks. track 201 was being loaded with wounded. among the chaos the A-10's were starting to circle over head. on the ground, confused marines were getting into the wrong tracks. this caused leaders to lose track of who was alive and who wasnt.
Lt. Reid managed to get back to the mortars' position. Garibay hadn't moved, like he ordered. He was moaning and groaning from his injuries. Lt. Reid didn't stop to find out what was wrong with him. Instead he said "there will be a track coming over. you need to get these guys loaded up. i don't care how much it hurts. if i don't make it back to here, you need to get out of here and find the Battalion Aid Station and get these guys help. i am going to grab some guys to help us out." Then Lt. Reid went to get more marines while fire erupted all around him. He didn't notice it anymore. Lt. Reid stumbled to the ground and asked GySgt Blackwell, "is my eyeball still in my head?" He replied, "i think its still in there. you look good."
GySgt Blackwell then said, "there's an A-10 here now"
Lt. Reid replied, "that's good, we need help"
Blackwell answered, " no its not. the A-10 is fucking coming at us!"
With no way to talk to the Battalion Commander, the FAC had authorized air support. the pilots thought the FAC could see the targets and engaged. Lt. Reid watched as rounds began to tear into the tracks. the tracks where Garibay was loading the wounded, even though he was also wounded. The A-10's continued to strafe the marines and the tracks with their canons killing Lcpl Fribley, nearly cutting him in half. the A-10's still thinking that they are killing the enemy and helping the marines in the city fire munitions at track 203 killing Cpl Rosacker. Rounds continued to rain on the marines as they ran for cover confused and horrified. Some marines tried to signal the planes to stop, but nothing was working. at this time there was so much enemy fire and fire from the A-10's that it was impossible to tell them apart.
finally someone was able to get through to the Battalion Commander to call off the planes. "for gods sake sir, get them to stop!"
The Battalion Commander couldnt grasp the impact of what he had heard. how could there be A-10's firing on our own marines? he called them off.
Track 201 saw the others trying to escape the incoming fire so they loaded the dead and wounded up and ran a U.S. flag up the turret to try and signal the A-10's. from somewhere the call went out to leave back south. track 208 carrying the mortar crew took off, track 201 took off after them. several other tracks took off down the road still taking heavy enemy fire and still being tracked down by the planes.
then the A-10's spotted the Medevac convoy heading south. at this time they planes started shooting maverick missiles at the convoy carrying injured marines.
the driver of track 208 (Cpl Elliot) had been injured earlier by shrapnel to the neck but was still driving south with eleven Marines in his track.
Cpl Kemaphoom Chanawongse
Lcpl Noel Trevino
Cpl Jose Garibay
Cpl Donald Cline Jr
Cpl Patrick Nixon
Pfc Nolen Hutchings
Pfc Tamario Burkett
Pvt Jonathan Gifford
Sgt. Brendon Reiss
Lcpl Thomas Blair
Lcpl Michael Williams
Out of nowhere a blast lifted the track into the air and filled it with black smoke. 208's driver gained bearing and then yelled, "everybody, get out. get out. get out of the track!" he then got out with much of the back of his leg missing and yelled to the nine marines riding in the troop compartment to get out. Trevino exited the other side of the track. Cpl Elliot didn't realize that all the marines in the troop compartment had been blown apart by the blast.
The driver of 201 saw a white flash shoot into 208's cargo hatch followed by a huge explosion. the track then jumped several feet into the air as pieces of flesh flew out into the road and blood splattered his vision block (the window from where they see out of to steer) turning the glass red. nobody could survive that he thought.
The A-10's knew nothing of what they had done. they thought they were doing a good job in fact.
Trying to avoid the blown out carcass of track 208, track 201 tried to steer and noticed they had lost steering. as everyone was trying to get out of a disabled 201, one of the A-10's noticed he still had one maverick left and locked onto another vehicle and began its final approach. then, just as he was about to release the missile. the radio crackled... "cease fire, cease fire, cease fire!"
"we think we might have had blue on blue. some guys might be up north at the canal. but we're not sure" the pilot couldnt believe what he was hearing. He thought the FAC had confirmed them as enemies.
Lt. Reid had escaped the A-10 fire and had made his way back to the mortar squads position. He couldnt see Cpl Garibay or the other wounded. "thats good. they've gotten out of here"
there is a lot more after and before and even during that has been left out. i only relayed the main parts. but my cousin, Jose Angel Garibay, i called him Angel (in spanish) didn't make it passed that battle. in the reports i read it was determined to be impossible to tell what had causes the deaths of the marines. since the amount of fire had been so severe, coupled with the friendly fire from the A-10's. i guess its hard for the government to admit that we killed our own guys.
Angel was injured, loaded up wounded, followed orders, and met the end in a foreign country. far away from his family. from his home. i always wonder what he was thinking. did he think of me? he had always wanted to be a badass... and here he had his chance. i wish for everything in the world that i could have saved him. i carry the pain with me everywhere i go, and everything reminds me of the life we had.
he was twenty one.
and forever will be the same age.
compared to what he saw, i went on a camping trip in the desert.
my uncle was the only one to see him when he finally came home.
one night he was telling everyone... you didn't see what i saw. you didn't see it!! he said... the body was burned and in pieces.
him and i had no place in the marines... but off we went. theres not one day that i dont think of him.
i dream about him. and he tells me he's ok. when i wake up, i find myself missing life.
its 2 am and tomorrow morning i will be going to the cemetery to visit him on his anniversary. its supposed to rain.
i will be going anyways. he'd do the same for me.
if it was the other way around... and i had died. i dont think he could have lived.
but what am i saying. i havent lived since march 23, 2003. my mothers birthday. the day i came home from iraq. the day you died.
i miss you severely. and i really dont know what im doing anymore. sometimes i think im alright. and other times im crying in my car so no one can see me. i wish you'd come home already. ive been waiting to tell you my stories. come home already. i miss you.
.Angel.
High School football.
my life has never been the same after march 23, 2003. although i didnt hear the news until the 25th i believe, i wrote something on the 23rd. its a poem i wrote because i felt something was wrong. i felt it. i was worried about my cousin and i told jennifer that i felt bad. but i knew it was something different. i could feel it.
my cousin and i might as well have been brothers. we were one year apart in age and almost born in the same month and time frame. he was 4 august 81, and i was 25 july 82. and although i remember my side of the story vividly, this isnt about me.
i have been struggling to write this for several years. to let everyone else know what happened to him. sometimes in my drunkenness i had let slip some details, but never a full story. i have collected books, word of mouth, an 800 page military report with the details blacked out still, written statements, pictures, and many little pieces because i thought it would make me feel better... if i knew. and it somewhat has. but nothing changes the outcome.
the following is a short version of the story. from what i know, what i've read in books, and all my reports and other findings. although some of the stories conflict, it is expected. its war. no one is clear headed then. i dont mean to offend anyone. i just need to get this out.
In this battle, the lack of good communications cut the marines throats. the plan was simple and it involved Alpha, Bravo and Charlie Companies and some tanks. but that didnt happen. what happened instead was a mess with enough blame to throw in every direction and still have enough left over to eat later. in the confusion the tanks that had been in the lead went around the city of An Nasiriyah as planned and immediately got stuck several feet deep in mud. the rest of the tanks had to go back down south to refuel after rescuing the army who had fucked up and went the wrong way and got mostly killed or captured. this meant that marching toward An Nasiriyah were three companies of track mounted marines. (the track being a thin skinned tracked vehicle used to transport marines and not intended for urban warfare) all in a line with no tanks in the lead. as they crossed the first bridge into the city the lead element (bravo co.) missed a turn and got stuck in a field of mud while taking fire from machine guns and rockets. alpha did as they were supposed to and secured the southern bridge. and Charlie co., the company my cousin was in, decided to push north through ambush alley (the main road determined to be the most dangerous place in the city to drive through) because they thought bravo had done the same. at the same time the lead element Bravo co. lost virtually all communications and was not able to relay position to the other companies. at this point all the companies were taking heavy fire.
the stage was set. Charlie co. was headed north to the canal bridge through ambush alley.
driving through ambush alley in their tracks the were receiving a massive amount of fire from what seemed to be all directions. iraqis were dressed as civilians, shooting out of windows and hiding again. even waving white flags then shooting immediately afterward from the same windows.
somewhere along the way 2nd Lt. Fred Pokorney got hit in the arm from what was later thought to be a ricochet from a bullet. he shook it off and kept fighting with the other marines.
Lt. Ben Reid was commander of track 208. snaking through enemy fire track 208 got hit with an RPG round, the marines inside awaited death with uncertainty. but the RPG didnt explode, instead it just got stuck in one of the packs that lined the outside of the tracks. the explosion never came.
it was observed that iraqis were putting AK's over balconies and firing sporadically and hiding again. the marines that were fighting back thanked god that the iraqis didnt seem to have any marksmanship at all. and the heavy fire continued. sometimes the rockets would explode close by, sometimes they wouldn't explode or wizz by their heads and fly off.
On their way through the city one of the tracks took a rocket to the wheel well and five marines inside were injured critically ( i believe this was track 211). as they reached the canal bridge track 201 realizes that Charlie co. was all alone. bravo had not been in front of them at all. but the marines would not lay down, through the heavy fire of machine guns, rockets and small arms the marines managed to push through to the northern bridge
the marines dismounted the tracks which were battered but still mostly working and took a defensive position near the canal bridge. as they returned fire the incoming fire was steadily increasing, including now machine guns, rockets, and mortars.
Lt. Reid exited the track and began setting up the mortars to suppress some of the fire coming from what seemed to be all directions. As the mortars started firing, 2nd Lt. Pokorney ran up to Lt. Reid and yelled that there was no communications to anyone else. Lt. Reid then told 2nd Lt. Pokorney to keep trying.
Corporal Jose Garibay was mortar squad leader..(something i did not know) and was directing fire to the west to try and stop the enemy fire which was still increasing in rate. Lt. Reid stood up at one point to get a better view of where the fire was coming from when 2nd Lt. Pokorney tackled him and yelled "you stupid fucker, you're going to get us all killed!" But the truth was that with no comm back to the heavy artillery the fire from the buildings would not stop. So Lt. Reid shouted to Cpl Garibay "pick up your shit and bring your crew. we're going to move your position sixty meters to the south!"
At this point no one knows charlie is up north. but the marines in the rear have become aware that there may be a mechanized unit north of the canal bridge. although high level command has ceased to exist because of the lack of comm, the small unit leadership is working. marines are fighting like they're suppose to. all the while the fire directed toward charlie company is intensifying. RPG's and machine guns are starting to inflict injuries to marines making the job of the navy corpsmen harder. at one point there isnt enough corpsmen to help all the injured marines.
The mortars coming from the buildings were getting closer.
to add to the confusion, track 211 which was hit coming through the city was still on fire and beginning to cook off live rounds that were inside of it. the marines wondered who was shooting at them until they discovered it was their own equipment.
Then Lt. Reid moved the mortars to the canal bridge while incoming fire was steadily increasing in accuracy. An RPG whizzed over his head and exploded 100 meters behind him. then 2nd Lt. Pokorney ran to tell Lt. Reid that he was able to get through to call artillery. Lt. Ried said he knew he could do it. 2nd Lt. Pokorney ran back to his position with the other marines.
Just then there was a tremendous explosion behind Lt. Reid. as the dust cleared he notices his arm isnt missing as he thought, but broken badly. Cpl Jorge Gonzalez then said to Lt. Reid, "thats too bad sir".. from his tone Lt. Reid could tell things were terribly wrong. immediately after, Cpl Garibay relayed to Lt. Reid, "Sir, Buesing is dead." Then he looked right and saw 2nd Lt. Pokorney on the floor next to Staff Sergeant Jordan. Jordan had been the marine that all the other marines looked up to. Lt. Reid then ran to 2nd Lt. Pokorney and turned him over to see his facial structure shattered, and his body crumpled. he looked again at Buesing and went completely numb.
Lt. Reid then turned to Garibay who was standing right beside him, staring at him with the biggest eyes hes ever seen, alive, but also injured, and said "you keep everyone here. im going to get help!" He ran about 20 meters then got hit again, although he didnt know it at the time. He was laying face down in the dirt, and his eye wouldnt open. As he lay there a million thoughts raced through his mind, he wondered what to do... to just die? is this how it happened? or try and get up? For some reason he got up. seeing a track with his one good eye he ran for it. he crawled into the track and told the marines that they needed to evacuate casualties. and to get up on the guns and kill everything in sight. probably in a bit more colorful language than that.
At the same time the company commander for Charlie Company saw the bodies of four Marines, they had been killed instantly; SSgt Philip Jordan, Cpl Jorge Gonzalez, 2nd Lt. Fred Pokorney, Lcpl Brian Buesing. As the casualties mounted, there was nowhere to take them. No helicopters could land because of all the fire being taken, and no one could call in for air support because it wasnt clear where the other companies were located.
Earlier in the deployment a new kind of air support had been authorized where the forward air controller (FAC) gave the aircraft a geographical area to cover without seeing the enemy himself. So it was up to the pilots to decide what was enemy or not, and A-10's had a notorious past of killing friendlies.
The FAC was able to call in to the aircraft to go to the north to clear out was was thought to be a mechanized unit coming in to the city to attack the marines. unfortunately to FAC was in the south and didnt know the location of Charlie company. and he relayed to the aircraft, the A-10's to engage the enemy north of the city. through all the confusion the A-10's misidentified Charlies companies tracks as enemy vehicles seeing as they were Air Force and hadn't received training on Marine vehicles. at the same time the FAC thought they were looking at a completely different area. seeing as no one was supposed to be that far north the FAC told the pilots no friendlies were up there, even though he had no confirmation on that.
On the ground, the commander of track 201, thinking he was the only one left in charge, yelled for everyone to get back in the tracks. track 201 was being loaded with wounded. among the chaos the A-10's were starting to circle over head. on the ground, confused marines were getting into the wrong tracks. this caused leaders to lose track of who was alive and who wasnt.
Lt. Reid managed to get back to the mortars' position. Garibay hadn't moved, like he ordered. He was moaning and groaning from his injuries. Lt. Reid didn't stop to find out what was wrong with him. Instead he said "there will be a track coming over. you need to get these guys loaded up. i don't care how much it hurts. if i don't make it back to here, you need to get out of here and find the Battalion Aid Station and get these guys help. i am going to grab some guys to help us out." Then Lt. Reid went to get more marines while fire erupted all around him. He didn't notice it anymore. Lt. Reid stumbled to the ground and asked GySgt Blackwell, "is my eyeball still in my head?" He replied, "i think its still in there. you look good."
GySgt Blackwell then said, "there's an A-10 here now"
Lt. Reid replied, "that's good, we need help"
Blackwell answered, " no its not. the A-10 is fucking coming at us!"
With no way to talk to the Battalion Commander, the FAC had authorized air support. the pilots thought the FAC could see the targets and engaged. Lt. Reid watched as rounds began to tear into the tracks. the tracks where Garibay was loading the wounded, even though he was also wounded. The A-10's continued to strafe the marines and the tracks with their canons killing Lcpl Fribley, nearly cutting him in half. the A-10's still thinking that they are killing the enemy and helping the marines in the city fire munitions at track 203 killing Cpl Rosacker. Rounds continued to rain on the marines as they ran for cover confused and horrified. Some marines tried to signal the planes to stop, but nothing was working. at this time there was so much enemy fire and fire from the A-10's that it was impossible to tell them apart.
finally someone was able to get through to the Battalion Commander to call off the planes. "for gods sake sir, get them to stop!"
The Battalion Commander couldnt grasp the impact of what he had heard. how could there be A-10's firing on our own marines? he called them off.
Track 201 saw the others trying to escape the incoming fire so they loaded the dead and wounded up and ran a U.S. flag up the turret to try and signal the A-10's. from somewhere the call went out to leave back south. track 208 carrying the mortar crew took off, track 201 took off after them. several other tracks took off down the road still taking heavy enemy fire and still being tracked down by the planes.
then the A-10's spotted the Medevac convoy heading south. at this time they planes started shooting maverick missiles at the convoy carrying injured marines.
the driver of track 208 (Cpl Elliot) had been injured earlier by shrapnel to the neck but was still driving south with eleven Marines in his track.
Cpl Kemaphoom Chanawongse
Lcpl Noel Trevino
Cpl Jose Garibay
Cpl Donald Cline Jr
Cpl Patrick Nixon
Pfc Nolen Hutchings
Pfc Tamario Burkett
Pvt Jonathan Gifford
Sgt. Brendon Reiss
Lcpl Thomas Blair
Lcpl Michael Williams
Out of nowhere a blast lifted the track into the air and filled it with black smoke. 208's driver gained bearing and then yelled, "everybody, get out. get out. get out of the track!" he then got out with much of the back of his leg missing and yelled to the nine marines riding in the troop compartment to get out. Trevino exited the other side of the track. Cpl Elliot didn't realize that all the marines in the troop compartment had been blown apart by the blast.
The driver of 201 saw a white flash shoot into 208's cargo hatch followed by a huge explosion. the track then jumped several feet into the air as pieces of flesh flew out into the road and blood splattered his vision block (the window from where they see out of to steer) turning the glass red. nobody could survive that he thought.
The A-10's knew nothing of what they had done. they thought they were doing a good job in fact.
Trying to avoid the blown out carcass of track 208, track 201 tried to steer and noticed they had lost steering. as everyone was trying to get out of a disabled 201, one of the A-10's noticed he still had one maverick left and locked onto another vehicle and began its final approach. then, just as he was about to release the missile. the radio crackled... "cease fire, cease fire, cease fire!"
"we think we might have had blue on blue. some guys might be up north at the canal. but we're not sure" the pilot couldnt believe what he was hearing. He thought the FAC had confirmed them as enemies.
Lt. Reid had escaped the A-10 fire and had made his way back to the mortar squads position. He couldnt see Cpl Garibay or the other wounded. "thats good. they've gotten out of here"
there is a lot more after and before and even during that has been left out. i only relayed the main parts. but my cousin, Jose Angel Garibay, i called him Angel (in spanish) didn't make it passed that battle. in the reports i read it was determined to be impossible to tell what had causes the deaths of the marines. since the amount of fire had been so severe, coupled with the friendly fire from the A-10's. i guess its hard for the government to admit that we killed our own guys.
Angel was injured, loaded up wounded, followed orders, and met the end in a foreign country. far away from his family. from his home. i always wonder what he was thinking. did he think of me? he had always wanted to be a badass... and here he had his chance. i wish for everything in the world that i could have saved him. i carry the pain with me everywhere i go, and everything reminds me of the life we had.
he was twenty one.
and forever will be the same age.
compared to what he saw, i went on a camping trip in the desert.
my uncle was the only one to see him when he finally came home.
one night he was telling everyone... you didn't see what i saw. you didn't see it!! he said... the body was burned and in pieces.
him and i had no place in the marines... but off we went. theres not one day that i dont think of him.
i dream about him. and he tells me he's ok. when i wake up, i find myself missing life.
its 2 am and tomorrow morning i will be going to the cemetery to visit him on his anniversary. its supposed to rain.
i will be going anyways. he'd do the same for me.
if it was the other way around... and i had died. i dont think he could have lived.
but what am i saying. i havent lived since march 23, 2003. my mothers birthday. the day i came home from iraq. the day you died.
i miss you severely. and i really dont know what im doing anymore. sometimes i think im alright. and other times im crying in my car so no one can see me. i wish you'd come home already. ive been waiting to tell you my stories. come home already. i miss you.
.Angel.
The track my cousin was riding in.
Another view of the same track.
Praying over remains
Evacuating the dead and wounded.
Lt. Reid
Jose Garibay and his 60mm mortar tube
A letter to my father.
Me on the left, Angel on the right and his mother in the middle.
High School football.
Monday, January 10, 2011
call me immature male.
i dont live in the same world as you.
i have made my world from logic laced with dreams. a little imagination and a shit ton of cynicism.
now pass me that gun.
"i wish shelby wasnt dead in a freezer right now" she said to me.
and i didnt know what to say.
i wish lots of things.
i wish doug wasnt laying in a coffin only miles from his house. i wish angel was alive. i wish we were all together. and i wish shelby wasnt dead in a freezer.
but i have no idea how to say it.
you called me this morning. several times. and when i saw the missed calls i figured it was something bad.
when i answered, you told me your dog had died.
and even though it's not something we want... i was glad nothing was seriously wrong.
i was ironing my shirt for work at seven AM. i was busy going to work.
ignoring the fact that you hurt.
i left and tried not to think about it.
not because i have no feelings. it's actually the exact opposite.
i dont know how to handle my emotions. so when it comes to something like this its better not to say anything sometimes. better than making an ass out of myself... even though im so good at it.
circumstance gets in the way of life, and when we want to see it again... from behind the bullet proof glass, speaking through the two way phone... we only have a brief time and then we're done.
i have never owned a pet until a few years ago. and shes not even mine. so i dont understand how it goes.
there is a closeness i will never understand.. and it spreads into my life further than just dogs.
i have no idea what im saying.
but i wish for you. that shelby wasnt dead in a freezer either.
thats no place for a memory.
i have made my world from logic laced with dreams. a little imagination and a shit ton of cynicism.
now pass me that gun.
"i wish shelby wasnt dead in a freezer right now" she said to me.
and i didnt know what to say.
i wish lots of things.
i wish doug wasnt laying in a coffin only miles from his house. i wish angel was alive. i wish we were all together. and i wish shelby wasnt dead in a freezer.
but i have no idea how to say it.
you called me this morning. several times. and when i saw the missed calls i figured it was something bad.
when i answered, you told me your dog had died.
and even though it's not something we want... i was glad nothing was seriously wrong.
i was ironing my shirt for work at seven AM. i was busy going to work.
ignoring the fact that you hurt.
i left and tried not to think about it.
not because i have no feelings. it's actually the exact opposite.
i dont know how to handle my emotions. so when it comes to something like this its better not to say anything sometimes. better than making an ass out of myself... even though im so good at it.
circumstance gets in the way of life, and when we want to see it again... from behind the bullet proof glass, speaking through the two way phone... we only have a brief time and then we're done.
i have never owned a pet until a few years ago. and shes not even mine. so i dont understand how it goes.
there is a closeness i will never understand.. and it spreads into my life further than just dogs.
i have no idea what im saying.
but i wish for you. that shelby wasnt dead in a freezer either.
thats no place for a memory.
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