The Poems And Confessions Of A Mad Man Read online

  The Poems And

  Confessions Of A Mad Man

  My Theater Of Pain

  By

  Andrew J. Green

  This book is a work of fiction. Places, events, and situations in this story are purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  © 2005 by Andrew J. Green. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

  First published by AuthorHouse 01/19/05

  ISBN: 1-4184-6214-4 (e-book)

  ISBN: 1-4184-3088-9 (Paperback)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2004091299

  Cover and photos by: Krisi Green

  Printed in the United States of America

  Bloomington, IN

  This book is printed on acid free paper.

  Dedication

  To my loving sister Karen, who was the first person to tell me that it wasn’t my fault. Thank you. Also to Pastor Daniel Tabolt of Abundant Life Fellowship. This great warrior, had the faith to take The Word into the dungeon in my heart, and do battle with the dragon who lives within me. Thank you for helping me.

  Table of Contents

  Poems Of A Mad Man

  My Theater Of Pain

  Roof Top Sniper

  3rd Grader Inside

  Seeing Him

  A Soldiers Story

  The Dragon

  The Broker

  Ending It All

  Hearing Them Scream

  Self Image

  Drink And Drive

  Stalker

  Grabbed

  The Man Inside

  Nightclub Fire

  The Gig

  Too Much TV

  Growing Old

  Celebrity Mouth

  School

  Rock Star

  Names

  Saying Goodbye

  Mercy Killing

  Wanted: Men Who Beat Girls

  Doonsville Cops

  The River

  Where Is The Metal

  Forever

  Confessions Of A Mad Man

  Catholic School

  School Bus Bullies

  BB Gun Wars

  Poor Steven

  The Ghettoins

  Bill

  The Hitchhikers

  The Senior Will

  4 Wheel Drive

  The Year Of The Ghost Train

  Death On The Mat

  Border Incident

  Running With The Wicked

  Dealing With The King

  Betrayed

  Mob Connection

  Losing Hope To The Death Rose

  The Last Straw

  Faith To Knowledge

  Paparazzi Killer

  Deadly Advertisement

  The Beast Within

  Mad

  Christmas Jitters

  Ben Assassinated

  Deadly Class Reunion

  Illegal Immigrants

  My Name Is Nobody

  Nothing Is Fiction

  Preface

  This book was written through the eyes of a man who now sleeps within me. Though today I have him in control, I don’t know if tomorrow, he will awaken and try to rule my mind. I believe my Christian faith keeps him subdued and will save me if he is aroused. Though I may not have physically acted out all of what you are about to read, in my heart lived a brokenness and an insanity that made real, what is now put on paper.

  Some people may say they could never conceive of living with such pain, anger, and fear, without killing someone or taking their own life. Many people in this world can relate. Some have taken their own life or will spend the rest of their lives in a prison cell because they’ve handled differently, the same things that I’ve written about. When I’ve spoken of my experiences and thoughts to others, most have asked how a person with a mind like mine, isn’t in an asylum or dead. I’ve asked the same question and can only say, “It’s a miracle.” My sister Diane is a great psychologist who has walked me through some of the darkest parts of my life. I also believe if I didn’t have my wife, I would have destroyed myself.

  For all of the people who believe suicide sends you to Hell, your wrong. Only God judges and you don’t know what frame of mind a person is in when committing such an act. I have been there. I have slipped and fallen into the hopeless and powerful river that leads to suicide, only to be pulled out by a power greater than my own.

  To all of the people who personally know me, I can only hope that you won’t read this book. There is a side of me that I’d rather you never know. If you do read this book, I hope you won’t look at me different if I write some things that break your heart. Please remember the Andrew Green you now know, not the man who sleeps within me.

  Intro

  You may think I sound mad, but I tell you the truth,

  I’m much older now, but I speak from my youth.

  These poems and stories, won’t make you feel glad,

  But they will piss you off, or they will make you mad.

  They come from my heart, and I write what I can,

  Some poems and confessions, written by a mad man.

  Some may not make sense, you may say that they stink,

  But I’m sure that there’s some, that are going to make you think.

  I’ve been on this earth now, for 40 some years,

  I’ve seen something’s that, from a corpse would pull tears.

  So pull up a chair, have a Danish and tea,

  An espresso, hot chocolate, or cup of coffee.

  But buckle your seat, and sit down for a few,

  The stories you’ll read, show what I can do.

  Not all are exact, but are based on a fact,

  About how I think, how I feel, how I act.

  So read all I’ve wrote, and don’t feel too bad,

  They’re just poems and stories, by a man who is mad.

  Poems Of A Mad Man

  My Theater Of Pain

  By

  Andrew J. Green

  My Theater Of Pain

  By: Andrew J. Green

  There’s a place in my heart, that I don’t like to go,

  Whenever I visit there, it brings me down low.

  It’s a place of true hurt, and is covered in the stain,

  Of the blood that was shed, in my theater of pain.

  The existence that I’ve lived, the experiences I’ve had,

  The life and the death, the good and the bad.

  Are all locked in here, a place of true dread,

  Where I’ve wept, and I’ve sobbed, and the tears I have shed.

  This is the heart of, the man once a boy,

  Who through just bad fortune, had lost all his joy.

  His mind walks the streets, of this world at night,

  The dragon inside him, he’ll constantly fight.

  The world he once lived in, pushed him to the ledge,

  They kicked him and punched him, pushed him over the edge.

  His mind will now wander, in a land filled with war,

  The assassin, the villain, the killer, the whore.

  There’s no time to rest, must get ready to kill,

  I’ll do what I want, when I want, at my will.

  The world unleashed me, my plans will be fun,

  I’ll take what I want, and kill all one by one.

  I will show them my feelings, my insights they’ll gain,

  I’ll introduce all, to my theater of pain.

  I tried to be nice, and to do what was good,

  But they
hurt me and cut me, and did what they would.

  They rattled the cage, of the dragon within,

  What they get will be worse, than their image of sin.

  This is all their fault, they have asked for the rain,

  From the terror that falls, in my theater of pain.

  I was once a good man, helping all in my path,

  But you killed the good man, so you will feel my wrath.

  Your family now slaughtered, you’re now all alone,

  The brokenness I feel, is now in your home.

  Your cries and your questions, why this happened to you?

  Your weeping and crying, is all you can do.

  You lock up your feelings, in the place in your heart,

  Where no one can touch you, or won’t tear apart.

  It’s a place of true hurt, that is covered in the stain,

  Of the blood that was shed, in your theater of pain.

  Roof Top Sniper

  By: Andrew J. Green

  Hear the L.A. P. D., flying over my head,

  I know it’s the end, very soon I’ll be dead.

  They are shooting at me, so I return fire,

  My vision is blurred, my body does tire.

  I’ve been at this battle, for 26 hours,

  The anger I have, gives strength and empowers.

  I see a bright light, feel a thud on my back,

  For a time I was out, everything just turned black.

  As I lay down you wonder, what brought this man here?

  To cause so much pain, and instill so much fear.

  But walk with me now, down on memory lane,

  I will show you my anger, my sorrow, my pain.

  I was leaving the church, with my wife and my son,

  He was only a child, we could only have one.

  When 3 men followed us, to our house out side town,

  They broke through the door, pushed us all on the ground.

  Had a knife and gun, that they pointed at me,

  Tied my hands and my feet, but all else I did see.

  They took all our money, but then wanted more,

  Dragged my wife in the room, and then they closed the door.

  They raped her then beat her, one time then another,

  My son watched this happen, to my wife, and his mother.

  He tried to stop them, but was hit with a gun,

  When they did, it went off, and they slaughtered my son.

  They ran from the house, the police finally came,

  Untied me on time, to show me such pain.

  I watched as my wife, took her very last breath,

  She died from a hemorrhage, yes she bled to death.

  The police found the men, they would all stand on trial,

  This would take some more time, it won’t be for a while.

  But when the men came, on that day to the court,

  Judge threw out the case, ’cause the D.A.’s report.

  Said the evidence was found, through wrong search and seizure,

  The men could leave court, at their very own leisure.

  As they walked out the door, they all gave me a smile,

  My heart became black, became filled with deaths vile.

  The killers just walked, after taking the life,

  Of all that I loved, my son and my wife.

  I will fix this myself, get a high powered gun,

  Sit on a roof top, and go have so much fun.

  I saw the men’s names, in the paper again,

  Arrested for something, will be in court then.

  I will wait on the roof, of the buildings top floor,

  And shoot all the killers, who exit the door.

  The judge, the killers, their family and friends,

  Will all lose their lives, like mine did in the end.

  I completed my goal, and disposed of the trash,

  That litters our city, like a sewer main gash.

  I am dying here now, with a hole in my back,

  As the news team reports, “It’s a terror attack.”

  I was once a good man, but will go to my grave,

  Known as the roof sniper, who medics couldn’t save.

  So listen to me, as I die on the ground,

  Your laws you need dearly, to turn them around.

  Or more roof top snipers, will rise from the dust,

  Get revenge for their families, they feel they must.

  3rd Grader Inside

  By: Andrew J. Green

  Left handed at birth, baby boy thought a gift,

  To a father whose words, would cause such a rift.

  Good life until 8, third grade was a bust,

  When Dad said, “You’ll change, right handed you must.”

  The work became hard, didn’t know where I was,

  Grades dropped real bad, Dad made such a fuss.

  Worst day of my life, the news came in the mail,

  Report card said won’t pass, not go on, that I failed.

  Dad flew off the handle, next years were from Hell,

  As the insults were thrown at my heart, and it fell.

  Introduced as the dummy, who could never pass,

  The flunkey, the failure, the family dumb ass.

  And then school bus bullies, would tease and make fun,

  They slapped me, and punched me, and kick one by one.

  I told the bus driver, but she didn’t mind,

  As they beat me and spit on me, time after time.

  I vowed they’d pay dearly, when I became older,

  Bigger and faster, stronger and bolder.

  When I was 12 I, put a gun to my head,

  Wrote that I couldn’t live, left the note on the bed.

  My mom came home early, I put it away,

  I would finish my suicide, on another day.

  Mom is loving and wouldn’t, ever hurt a fly,

  Dad is terribly mean, makes me wish I could die.

  This may be a very, bad thing that I say,

  Wished Death would just take me, just take me away.

  At 14 I learned, of free weights at the gym,

  At last a good place, I could really fit in.

  At 17 years, I was fit to be tied,

  300 pounds pressed, I benched when I tried.

  I looked like a man, could get into a bar,

  As I walked through the door, I saw from a far.

  2 old school bus bullies, hanging out with their friend,

  My anger rose up, thought that this was the end.

  Recalled to them what, they had done to me when,

  I was just a 3rd grader, who couldn’t beat them.

  They looked with great fear, as they saw how I grew,

  I could crush them and hurt them, this much they now knew.

  When I took what they owed, they were breathing at best,

  Knocked out some front teeth, broke their arms, bruised their chest.

  I love this great power, and strength that I gain,

  The ability to conquer, and cause such great pain.

  Finished school at 18, joined the Army and then,

  Left my father behind, went to train with the men.

  Became a great sniper, learned one shot one kill,

  Whether they lived or they died, was up to my will.

  Earned a 3rd degree black belt, best at Tae Kwon Do,

  They’d fall when I hit them, like a mower I’d mow.

  Learned nun chucks, knives, staff and the sword,

  Like the Reaper I’d kill, when I fought and I warred

  Sent me far overseas, to go serve and to fight,

  Pull the trigger on whatever, would get in my sight.

  One night on patrol, rumor said I killed 8,

  The enemy never knew, I would seal their fate.

  I was asked by my captain, if I had felt bad,

  I told him I did, for disappointing my dad.

  Captain said, “Not about him, but for what you just faced.”

  Said, “Deep in the battle, is my re
sting place.”

  My demons were shot, 8 times on that day,

  This is my revenge, this is how I repay.

  I know it’s not good, or healthy, or right,

  But I battle the bullies, these demons I fight.

  If I could go back, knowing what I know now,

  I would slaughter the bullies, now that I know how.

  So Dad here’s a story, of my faults and my fears,

  From a son your words tortured, for 30 some years.

  As we lower you into, the earth on that day,

  I will still hear you yell, all the things you would say.

  “You’re a dummy, a flunkey, a failure, a dud,

  You’re stupid, disappointing, a stick in the mud.”

  I pray that these voices, will one day subside,

  From the wounded 3rd grader, who still lives inside.

  For this dangerous and angry, violent young man,

  Who still finds no refuge, in his sinking sand.

  Final words to you Dad, no you will never see,

  How much your words wounded, and still torture me.

  Seeing Him

  By: Andrew J. Green

  Some people have questioned, what’s happened to me?

  I’m supposed to be Christian, filled with joy and glee.

  I was always a clown, who would make people smile,

  Sad people would laugh, when with me for a while.