Lord of The Quack's Lair

Welcome to my re-desigined web page. It was lookin'
a lil boring so I changed..AGAIN.If you like the poetry, please let me know by signing the guestbook.

This first poem is one that I revised many times, but it's one of my better ones.

"The First Good Man"

The Viadolarosa was filled with people that day
They had come to see if it was real, what the others say.
"They all lie" said one "This cannot be true."
But then they saw Jesus walk by, and that was when they knew
They watched Him with wonder, scarcly believing their eyes
He was so badly beaten he barely looked alive
Blood poured from His body, and ran onto the ground
Yet through all this torture He never made a sound
The cross was heavy upon His back as He walked down the street
His blood running down His cross and landing at His feet
He struggled down the road with all His heart and will
Ans soon He reached Golgotha, and the crucifixion hill
They nailed Him to the cross and raised it in the air
The crowd still said nothing, as if they did not care
His possesions were sold in gambling games, as they waited for Him to die
Only a few scattered women were singing sorrowful cries
But then, He spoke, this man that death condemned
His lips issued forth one phrase "Father forgive them"
His eyes then closed, and His breathing was no more
And all of the Roman soliders believed they had carried out their 'chore'
Though they could not understand all there was to come
How people would follow His teachings, and remember all He had done
They thought they had rid themselves of Him after He was burried in the ground
But they had forgotten that a good man, cannot be kept down.


Wrote this one on a whim

"Forever"

I would give up forever to see you one more time, even if only for a second
I would turn down eternity for one chance to touch you again
To feel that life giving warmth beneath my fingertips
I would pass up an endless paradise if I could hear the sound of your voice
Even if you only uttered one word
Infinity would loose all meaning if I could just hold you again
To fill these open but empty arms
I would halt forever to spend one more day with you.
I will never live forever, because you are not here to share it with me


this is written for all those who should know better

"Mom"

You told me not to drink and drive mom
You told me what it would do
You told me I would take somebody's life, but I didn't listen to you
But you were right all along, mom, every word you said was true
I did take somebody's life mom
And that somebody was you


"I Am"

I may not have tons of money
But I believe I am rich
I do not contribute to great charaties
But I will help someone who has lost their way
I have never drawn a perfect, beautiful flower
But I will go out and see it for real
My dreams may not be the best in the world
But they are mine to dream
I do not wish for a better life
I make better the life I have
In a world of make believe
I am the dreamer
I do not forget the reality I've seen
But I do not stop believing in the things I haven't
I am not the ideal human being
I simply am


In remembrance of my dog Sugar (1988-2001)

"Thirteen"

It may seem like a unlucky number, but it was not to me
You walked the earth, one year assingned to each number proceedeing thirteen
A compainion, a friend, a playmate, you lit up my life
Dropped upon me by chance, but held together by something stronger
You were prone to mischief and missgivings, that I found irritating at times
But we would make up, you and me, and saw the new day full of possibilites
The will of a fighter, and the giddiness of a child
Each day I saw you, each night I bid you good dreams
The years were assigned more and more numbers as time went on
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten
You grew and changed with the time, as did I
Mischief gave way to understaning and compainonship
But laughter never left our senses
I saw you change, moving slower, hurting some
But the giddiness was still there, the heart of a survivor
Time may have slowed your step
But it did not affect the way you danced
Another year passed, and another..number thirteen soon rolled upon you
It was not hard to miss the things that were different
The energy was leaving you
But while strength was gone, the soul was not
Happiness to see me did not leave you either
The ever present tail wag still remained
And I smiled through my tears, and played with you
Working up the courage to say goodbye
I was not there when the moment happened
I saw you last, still and unmoving
A beating heart of friendship finally ceasing
And it was time for farewell
These days it's memories and photographs that keep me company in your absence
The tears are there as well, and while I have learned to move on
They will never go away
As long as I live, you are my friend
And a part of me will always ache for what I had
I will wait until I can see you again
For more than years up to thirteen


and now a little on the lighter side

"Ducks"

Oh me...Oh my...have you stumbled upon my lair?
Very well, I must now let you in on my most masterful plan
Oh the masterfulness of it all!
You see, I am one of the greatest jugglers in all of Plastic Saran Wrap Kingdom
That means I have to dance with gum drops around the May Pole of Enlightenment
And let me tell you, that's a long walk, all those cow hops
But I have devised a plan. One so clever in it's entrickity
You see, I am going to make magic shoes out of whipped cream, and GREEN Jell-O
green Jell-O being the most powerful magic ingredient *IN* the whole entire world)
And glue them to my elbows and run around that pole
Oh you cannot fathom the scene that will take place that day!
And Plastic Kingdom will forever be changed because I, an Alaskan Popscicle
Stood before a Tri-Buneral and said:
"Hey, there are three of you!!"
Let the world rejoice in this knowledge
But death by a thousand ice picks to anyone who reveals this plan before it begins

Until a purple moon

-Lord of the Quack



for everyone who has seen
this ribbon floating around I designed it.
I just forgot to put my name as the creator..seriously

In Dedication to all those who were injured, or lost
their lives on that day, and all those who knew them.
In Rememberance the day terrorists crashed into
America. Sept. 11, 2001

"Surreal"

Illusions, not reality, something not real.
But it was, terrifyingly true.
I watched with millions, the ones viewing
the horror on television, or there up close.
Seeing this abomination for human life.
Innocents lost, that did not ask for death
Landmarks destroyed, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
The burning of whole people en mass, together
They will now share a grave site, this is where it
was all taken away.
Acts by cowards, hurting many who never held
a grudge, merely passersbyís
But ones who will walk no more on earth.
They will be missed by those who held them dear,
And remembered even by those who didnít.
Surrealism took on a new definition the day
I saw the Trade Towers burn
Scattering lives to the wind as well as ashes.
To rise from this, we must learn from the
gruesome reality and grotesqueness of the ordeal.
Like a phoenix we will rise from the ashes, and
honor those who couldnít escape from them.
This is the day that surrealism broke all the rules.


"The Story of Us"

To all the people of the world:

We are not the "in crowd" the "bad crowd" or
the "rave crowd"
We dance to the beat of our own music,
nothing prerecorded, a creation by us
entirely.
We keep an eye and ear out to the practical
world, but are still fueled by the unyielding,
invisible power force of the realm of dreams
and fantasy creations.
We do not go out looking for trouble, but will
play with its boarders when we find it, turning
its meaning and danger upside down, until its
lines of defination fade.
We rebel against the system at times, but will
whistle the tune of "This Little Light of Mine"
while blazing down dusty roads on our Yamaha or
Honda motorcycles with a few links removed of
their engine chains to give the more of a pop
off the line.
We sit in bars and clubs, drinking our Coronas
and our lates with 2%, and we laugh as if time
has halted, and we now live only in this moment.
We laugh at the idiot who can't remember his
own phone number, but will give that same
moron a phone book so he can look it up for
himself.
We show off our moves to heart thumping,
fast paced mixes, but often find our best
dances performed wrapped up in another's
arms to a melody we wish would go agonizingly slow.
We weep for those that the world has forgotten,
poor desolate souls squalering in the place of
in-between, but we are continuously aware that
there can't always be a universe of just black
and white.
We sometimes get high on more then just life,
but will hurl the glittering pebble into the
shadows to answer the cry echoing around the
darkness.
We like the stakes high, the bar raised, and
lit aflame, and we oftem come out burned from
the ordeal, but do not hide our short comings,
so that we might learn from the scars.
We have fallen, and have been entangled in our safety
nets, but have also hit rock bottom so hard, our
essences shatter into nothingness, yet each time we
are re-pieced, we become stronger then before
We often become insecure, but keep rattling off bad
jokes with as much poise as a master of the arts.
We despise hell, wish for heaven, and have seen them
both in this world.
We do not want to belive in luck, but clutch charms
and talismen in hopeful hands like our own personal
Holy Grails.
We have a hard time admitting when we are wrong,
and an even harder time realizing we are totally
and completly screwed.
Despite our well mannered up-bringings we still
mutter "shit" and "fuck" under our breaths when
we bang our shins into everything short of a giant
sloth.
We aren't who we use to be, but who wants to be
naked, crying, wet, and infeeble again?
To all the people of the world; we aren't the
jocks, the hicks, the loners, the smucks, or the
sluts.
We are simply US
And this has been our message.

As told by: Lord of the Quack


This is what happens when you
listen to Michael W. Smith on an active mind

"Missing Person"

Where is the child who believed merely for the sake
of believing?
Where is the heart that feared little and trusted
without examination?
Unconditional love still lies in my soul, and the
unseen is still to be believed
But the limits of a child have been broken by the soul
of a woman, building new walls and tearing old
ones down
But where is the drive and need to not tear down the
walls, but to climb over them and explore the unknown?
Where is the missing person who use to be a part of me
but now one that I can only recall from memory?
The one who believed without reason, and who logic
did not stop dreams from being dreamt.
That is a lost part of me, and I am engaged in the
ultimate search mission to find it again
And when I remember why I was like her back then
I will no longer miss my missing person


"Once Upon a Time"

I lived in castles in the sky, was a princess,
ready to be rescued by my "dream man"
Love was simple and endings were happy
Innocence reigned supreme
I was smart because I said so, and
vanity made me pretty
Fortune games and unicorns filled my mind
The ideal wedding was at Disney World-
a perfect Cinderella Story
Innocence has lost some of its edge now,
sinking into reality
I learned and have grown a lot since
my days of "castle dreams"
The edges of my life have sharpened some
a product of all that
has come at me that a "princess" never knew of
I have come down from my Ivory Tower and
now see the world
as it is- not perfect, but a place
to live, to change
Once upon a time I dreamed my life when
I grew up would be right out of the
pages of a storybook
But today I don't live in a fairy tale,
and I no longer want to

I just want to live


"Who We Are"

You see us begging on the road, crying,
But you do not stop because we are who we are
We live with rats and sleep in gutters,
Sunken eyes and gaunt faces, filthy and worn
We call for help, plead for nothing but food to
survive the new day
The few of you who help us run afterwards
You help, but you are ashamed of who we are
The dawn of a new day reveals those of us who
could not survive the blackness
And we weep for our loss, for another who our
world has stolen away in the night
But you do not, there are always more like them,
like us, to take the place of those who are gone,
it is who we are
We are the poor and the unfortunate, who must
fight for our very existance
If we ashame you we don't care
If we embarass you we don't appoligise for
wanting to survive
We know what we have to do
We know who we are
Who are you?


"The Man Throught the Misunderstood"

There is an age-old belief about the misunderstood soul
Who is said to put filth in our children's mouths, and follow dead ended goals
We are warned to avoid him, like not doing so would be a crime
He is not worth our money, and certainly not worth our time
To keep him away from us would turn our lives ideal
A complete warped fantasy to what is really real
The man that no one wanted, no one tries to understand
He did not want to be out here, this was not his plan
He is not someone notable, not a special man about town
He is just simply a man who won't let society beat him down
The worlds know this fact, and his mess, no one wants to wade through that grit
But he did not ask for this world, rather he was born into it
His momma didn't ask for it either, to fall from pellets onto the ground
To not hear her baby boy screaming, to never hear another sound
This is the childhood he grew up in, this is where he had to play
No fixes on his mind just hope he would live through another day
He grew up through the years, became a man, even if we didn't know
With hard eyes and scars that bare no external show
A man haunted by his past, and by his here and now
He would love to start over like we want, if someone only told him how
To blot out all the pain, all the choices turned to black
To wash away all the blood, to have that lost time back
But we offer him no advice; just tell him what he's done
Beat him down hard enough until we think we've 'won'
His whole life is laid out, bare gutted and opened mouthed for us to see
The struggle for his survival, the roles he never got to be
But he doesn't want our pity, does not care about the ridicule we say
He just wants us to be aware that this how some lives came to play
He never claimed to be a role model, or wanted to be a blip on our aggression screen
Even with all those who call him unruly, and claim him as obscene
He is who he is, not by choice but by chance
And for this we want to get rid of him, and not give him a second glance
But he doesn't live to please us, to fit in our society norms by a lie
He's the one who knows what he does, and we're the ones still asking why
The life he lives is not glamorous, it's just the way it came out to be
But he already knows all of this-he just wants us to see.



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