Data Dump

chill

Sorry to those of you following my story. It was taken down at the request of my publisher. Be looking for “A Fall of a God” at Barnes and Noble and Amazon in 4 months…..thanks for the support

Rewrite my life (unfinished)

If your reading this its probably because you believe you know who Steven Chaplin is. Maybe went to school with me or met me in passing. Whatever you think you know you will have to erase that and clear what you think you knew. Im not the kid that you were able to look down on before. Behind these deep blue eyes and near straight smile is a world that has the capabilities to move mountains. I have lived more in the last twenty years of more likely than you will live the entirety of yours. I’m not speaking of the drunken fests, and the friends. Because a name brand life isn’t really a life at all. Fly down a back road with me or stumble through a tour in Afghanistan. I’m down to earth raw and uncut so hold on and fuck if you don’t like what you hear. Your reading my writing anyway.

 You should erase what you know like a blackboard in that Tyler Consolidated class room. Because while you laughed about the nerd walking in I was steady dreaming. Even the kid dreaming then is not who I am today. I know transformation as a caterpillar to a butterfly. I disappeared and I flew away. But I wont hide behind a shell. I will be the first to tell you that I hate the human population in general. All the superficial bullshit that you feel is important doesn’t make two sense worth of quality to me. I will also tell you I am the first to be the hypocrite. I know what I take for granted and I see it clearly every day what matters. I can call you superficial and saying your holding onto material but its not about that. Its about the im better than you because I wear nice clothes, I have the money. I can tell you from experience that I have lived both sides of the story. Id rather be the kid kicking a soccer ball around worrying about twenty bucks than the man I am materially now. Yeah I have the nice clothes, I have the money, the car. You laughed at the kid kicking the soccer ball the one that didn’t get invited to that party or date the high school hottie, but now your working that summer job at DQ serving him as he pulls out the plastic. Charge that shit…times will change you. Lets go back to the me that was scared to tell you how it was…shall we?

A brief background but I wont keep you hung up there. Im originally from West Virginia born to Steven and Nancy Chaplin and yes im a Jr. Anyone that has seen me now has seen my father decades ago. I am my father, but I am my mother as well. I came into this would early in that Loudon County hospital. I couldn’t wait for this world, but im sure it could wait on me. Two pounds Two ounces at one point and that’s why ill carry that as my lucky number. I’ve always been the small kid, the medium level kid. Never to good at anything that mattered. I can tell you that I knew more at a young age than most figure out as adults. I don’t know what it was but life just hit me. I found a fire in my heart for everything I set out to do. Whether it was being the smallest linebacker on the pee wee team or the things that aren’t really cool in your eyes. Yeah I think its legit to write poetry but im not a nerd. I lived in Tyler county my entire life and that’s where I plan to die. Not before I do some kicking and screaming however…..imma beat the hell out of this path of life.

my user manual

If you plan to love me your going to have to not

Not care what the rest of the world says when they tell you its not worth a shot

Have to not get stuck on my fits or my childish temper

Have to not make fun when I fail and emit a puppyish whimper

You will have to not get stuck on the small towns mirage of who I used to be

a lot of folks percieve what they knew of the old me

A child with foolish ways

Honey spinning their wheels they spend their days

They don’t know about the demons I carry inside

If they really knew what I am behind different words they would cower and hide.

They are looking down upon a mountain they cant be anything other than blind

But if im the one thing you decide to get behind

Ill brush the hair from you face the storm will go away.

Because if you have to not I will have to.

let you stare it to these blue eyes and count the shades of blue

If you can look past the soldier and see whats inside

You may find in you my treasures may confide

Behind a beaming smile you will catch glances of a man built to succede

And bigger than the life I live my heart is indeed

Sit and listen to the story the scars on my skin have to tell

Give a silent smile when every song on the radio I do yell

Im a free spirit living life bigger than most know how

Your going to have to get used to the bigger things in life if you have to not

Ive been their seen it and given it way to much thought

Hold on because you don’t know it yet but it will be on hell of a ride

And know that in me all your trust and hope you can confide.

Im not like the other guys im not something that can be bought

So hunny im begging you

Have to not.

pissed of poetry part 2

Someday I rose above it

Broke the chains that bound and with soaring wings I climb

While you stay wrapped up in the superficial bullshit

When you begin to slow down and the shit gets do deep

Ill be soaring free above and you failed to make that leap

Visualizing my dreams

And dreaming while I visualize

Sewing my destiny double stitched at the seams

And the day you see it you will slowly realize

The days you were laughing at the slow crowd

Starching your name brand name out loud

Trying to kick me while I was down

Now your stuck your feet cemented to the ground

yesterday today and tommorow I rose above it

Now tell me how you love it.

pissed of poetry

Walking beside you side by side in ecstacy

Until you twirled me around and dropped me to one knee

A smack to the face but never face down

I picked myself up for in sorrow i will not drown

Ran and never looked back and step by step i knew where id be

And now im looking down and the whole world i can see.

Tell you man if you want that he can come try me and you know what it would be

When he comes back bleeding best believe it was me

Someday it will be your turn to be alone and you will fall to less than a knee

and inside i know youll find thoughts creeping up wondering where you would be

if you would have been strong enough to stick with me.

You will realize that im more than you ever took time to see

more than you took time to realize

I always knew i was more than you could visualize

im on top of the world and im what i knew i could be

tell me how bad does it suck

now that you know it was always me.

Home sweet open road

In a place far away I’m just rolling out of bed. If not in body it’s in
spirit. Rolling out of bed moaning as I rub my eyes and stand up to go
out against the world. Throwing all my clothes on the floor scattering
them about as I poke for something half stylish to wear. Slide on my
shoes…been tied since I bought them cause I’m to lazy. Walk downstairs
snatch my keys off the mahogheny end table as I munch on a sweet
blueberry pop tart. Out the door I whisk myself and into the big world.

Lucky blue hat twisted backwards so that it’s not even doing its job of
blocking out the sun. I want to see the sun want to feel the
squint….the worlds fresh and I am alive. Trod ding through the fresh
grass as the birds chirp a new melodolic song of jubilation. Step up to
my sleek metallic white ride and let myself inside. A simple connection
to a physical machine. We inhale the same cold summer’s morning oxygen
as we fire up the day. My blood pumps as that of the oil just warming up
to the day’s task. Muscles work as connections between bones, like
bearings between rods. My brain firing off synapses thousands of times a
second and her brain firing as well running the body its attached
duties. Ill tighten up the harness move it to first and bring on the
world.

It’s a feeling I know all too well. It’s a feeling I cherish the same
way a child cherishes losing training wheels on his first bike. It’s me
and my chariot out on the Highway…free as a dove diving along the
rifts of an ocean scent.

Last four years of my life I have beaten the asphalt path a sum of over
250,000 miles. I have a connection with that road. Whether it be gravel,
dirt, asphalt, concrete, or sand it’s my companion the majority of my
days. It’s been my fearless comrade through tears. Tears that have
streamed down my face as I leave the sweet embrace of home for my double
life as a supposed fearless soldier. That road shares my tears and
millions of others as it carries us to places we no longer long to be.
Its shared laughter. Laughter of me and the guys just living free.
“Chappy you what?…no really…you didn’t..Awl man that’s nuts. What
did she do?” The guys go crazy over one of my new conquests. Yeah the
road managed to catch that secret as well. Road knows all my secrets.

It knows of the love made on back roads while daddy’s texting her “get
home young lady”. Knows of the struggles of being a person, knows of
life laughter and love. When the wheels won’t turn it’s there for the
sole. The sole of my slipped on dusty kicks and the soul I squander deep
inside. The road was relentlessly there. Been there to thrust me towards
and away from love. Been there to lead me to a cold jail cell for a
wacky Christmas day stay. It was also there to carry me away from
reality. I’m Mario Andretti and the road would agree.

 I’ve experienced a lot of my life peering out a windshield. Staring
aimlessly at miles of cornfields or the high rise buildings of
Nashville, Pittsburgh, Louisville, Cincinnati, Columbus…the list
trails on and on to each destination. Each destination different but the
foundation the same. Wouldn’t take back a mile while I’m sure my ride is
pleading the opposite.
Deep inside as I drift away I’m back in Tyler County I’m on rte 2
cruising to the ol DQ. I’ll be grabbing a medium twist cone and windows
down heading to pick up the guys. It’s just me the road and the fresh
summer air. The only real non kinetic thing in my life.

Reality is a road to you can be anything. It can be your morals your
values your drug your existence. My road has metaphoric value. It’s
something that I hold onto for reality and illusion all at the same
time. It’s my comedy my tragedy my rain my sun. Reach down inside you
and hold onto whatever it is that carries you away in this world.
Whether it be miles I spend dancing with the metallic white lines of an
interstate or the musty dust cloud of a back road I’m sane in those
moments. I’m every emotion that a person could manage to experience and
I’m as free as the wind through the trees. Find your road find your
happiness and never look back. Tomorrow truly isn’t promised so why
wouldn’t we be happy today?

2 Years (Published Version)

Today about this time two years ago I was a kid. Small town boy from a
town with no stop lights….nobody in particular. I was clay left
un-molded, with an inside hardened around morals and values of the small
town life. Love your momma, mind your daddy every day was another day.
But that was two years ago. 24 months, 66 weeks, 730 days, 17250 hours,
1,035,000 seconds and as I type that clock furiously ticks of that
distinct rhythm of time.

       I walked down those concrete steps as if it was the end of the
world.
Tears streaming down my baby face, just a kid staring with deep blue
eyes into the black the world. I remember almost every second of that
journey. White lines danced of the road as the misery of everyday took
me farther from home. Nine weeks of basic equal nine weeks of majestic
hell and I was a soldier. I was no longer a baby face kid, yet not
nearly a world worthy man. Every day now for the last 730 days I’ve
donned the uniform of my nation. Glorious Stars and Stripes on my right
shoulder lead me into battle. I will bleed for that flag so that the
colors it withholds will never run. Called on to fight for freedom and
it’s a call I won’t drop.

       A lot of things have changed over the last two years that make
me who I am today. Who knows how I’m still alive or how I’m in one piece
after the hell I’ve thrust myself into, most with a smile on my face.
Almost 100,000 miles worth of driving, over 50 hours high in the sky,
I’ve called 3 states(Arizona, South Carolina, Tennessee), 2
countries(North America, Afghanistan), and 2 continents (North America
Middle East) home. Spent close to 100,000 George Washington’s with
nothing but a slippery fast car and some faded kicks to show for it.
Loved deeply and lost love. I’ve seen things and been places Satan
himself wouldn’t dare to dance, and now still finding it hard to believe
I’m a man. I’m on the unbeaten path, and with perseverance still beating
the hell out of it.

       Theirs a lot of reasons you may question the character of a man,
and my biggest goal is to never have mine questioned. Throughout the
miles I’ve trampled, and the bridges I’ve set ablaze I’ve learnt to be
who I am. I’m that dreadfully small town kid, still a kid inside but a
man when need be. I would never turn back on the last two years, but
once in awhile it’s not uncommon to catch a tear in my eye as I drift to
the past.

Nothing like being in high school. Being a god just because you were
good at a sport. Summertime ripping through the water on nothing but a
plastic inner tube. Only worry in life is how the ladies would feel
about me falling off. I miss that life and those friends daily so much
that it hurts sometimes. Looking back if I could talk to my 16 year old
dumbass self, picking rocks out of the yard in the rain cause I couldn’t
keep my mouth shut, I would change a lot of how I lived life. I broke
hearts, broke rules, broke bones. Experienced a jail cell, experienced
Jesus, and truly believed I had it figured out. Really I took every
sweet second of it for granted. But look where I’m at today. Raising one
finger on both hands for all the people that doubted me then to lay
their gaze upon now. Most respectfully of course.
       As I sit on this bunk typing this for whomever to see, springs
poking every piece of me, waiting for the next explosion, I’m torn with
emotions. I feel I have lived the best moments of my life, but yet the
best is still to come. Mom, Dad, Sister, Izzy, Lynn, Alex,
Cooper……..to you all all I can say is thanks. I wouldn’t be who I am
now without you all. I love you all; some blood some not your all
family. I would lay down my life for any one of you to have another day
of happiness.

       730 down, and I am me. 113 left till I touch back down on
American soil. I’ve made promises to myself to really live life from now
on and anyone reading this I challenge you to hold yourself to the same.
If you take it for granted you will dearly miss it. Sometime you will
look back and feel even though you were there you missed out. Never let
love go stale, never let loved ones drift aimlessly away. Keep what’s
real to you real, and be you to standard that only you can be.

I am a testament that this world can’t hold a small town boy down. Two
years later and they still can’t rip this fight dad instilled in my
stomach. Guts and don’t give a damn attitude built on Chaplin.
Compassion and love built on Mace. You can scower this entire world and
never come across anyone else like me. So here’s to the last two
years…..I raise my orange-strawberry Gatorade and drink to them. Can’t
wait for the next set…..

Why (Og Version)

Sometimes you just feel weak. You feel the weight of the world on your
shoulders, and you can feel the tendons and ligaments give out
underneath the pressure. Every muscle tissue in your body tears in
agony, but you got to reach down inside of you and get that shit out of
you before it manifests and destroys you.

You could look into my eyes and see joy but one billionth of a tenth of
a second the look can twist to hate. I have that switch inside me. It’s
about respect and the torture a man will go through just to swell with
pride. I live in a world where the majority of beings surrounding me
want nothing more to see me fail, see me dead, see me crushed. Beyond
these dirt walls is another world that Satan himself couldn’t match the
hells.

       I’m on a choker leash like a dog as the politicians’ oceans away
debate at my destiny. Debate about my pay, and where I’m going while
eating a fine steak and lobster dinner. They don’t know the reality of
war for it’s not like they would ever have to walk up to a little
girl/boy and tell them mommy or daddy will never walk back into their
life. Turn around and cut funding for the designs and production of
possible lifesaving equipment. Precious funding that hell three less
rolls of toilet paper is severally felt to that soldier on the front
lines. Thousands of miles away from family stuck in a world unforgiving.
How do you build up a country when you tear down your own defenders?
There is no American dream in the families are tattered and torn from
the stresses. You get cheating whores, you get mangled bodies, and the
kids stuck in the middle. Well chock em up as another fuck up to
society. There are many unknown tortures of war and from the man on the
frontline to the man ordering the lead to supply the weapons we all feel
them.

       Underneath it all the armor the layers of tissue the mirage of
an American soldier I’m just a little boy at heart struggling not to let
my smile die. Aiming to keep my soul warm but it feels as if dry ice is
sitting in its place. Roll out of bed every day to the same madness
always expected to stand tall, never shall I fall. It’s that pride for
my country, for my family, for myself. I can stand up and say fuck the
politician that has me here. Death before dishonor and dishonor would be
the refusal of defending my country. Put another round in the chamber,
reach down and grab some fortitude and just fire off some more rounds.
When do I know when the switch is gone, when does the joy perspire from
my pores and empty into the sand. How long before it’s nonexistent.

        It’s the struggle I fight every day. I know I’m doing well, but
whom for. Who bears the reward from my remorse? I am a soldier, and I
have duties laid out in front of me. Yet I question everyday I wake up
in this country. Look over my body and say a silent prayer telling god
thanks. Thanks for the opportunity to live another day, to breath
another day, to have hope another day. Hopes that one day my mirage of
an American Dream can be a reality. A house, a beautiful wife, two kids,
two cars, and that’s my utopia. But for now I reach down and tighten up
my laces, rip apart at guts to find courage. Scream at the world
thousands of miles away.

       Everyday I hear people back home bitch about the lives they
lead.
Talking of nothing really. GAS? POOR FAT PEOPLE? Really we have poor fat
people. How about you stand up and do something. If you believe it,
achieve it. You just tried on my shoes took a walk through my day. Now
stand up and stop being another scab on society. Yeah I’m calling you
out. Bitch about it now…..

Why (Published Version)

Sometimes you just feel weak. You feel the weight of the world on your
shoulders, and you can feel the tendons and ligaments give out
underneath the pressure. Every muscle tissue in your body tears in
agony, but you got to reach down inside of you and get that mess out of
you before it manifests and destroys you.

You could look into my eyes and see joy but one billionth of a tenth of
a second the look can twist to hate. I have that switch inside me. It’s
about respect and the torture a man will go through just to swell with
pride. I live in a world where the majority of beings surrounding me
want nothing more to see me fail, see me dead, see me crushed. Beyond
these dirt walls is another world that Satan himself couldn’t match the
hells.

       I’m on a choker leash like a dog as the politicians’ oceans away
debate at my destiny. Debate about my pay, and where I’m going while
eating a fine steak and lobster dinner. They don’t know the reality of
war for it’s not like they would ever have to walk up to a little
girl/boy and tell them mommy or daddy will never walk back into their
life. Turn around and cut funding for the designs and production of
possible lifesaving equipment. Precious funding that hell three less
rolls of toilet paper is severally felt to that soldier on the front
lines. Thousands of miles away from family stuck in a world unforgiving.
How do you build up a country when you tear down your own defenders?
There is no American dream in the families are tattered and torn from
the stresses. You get cheating wives, you get mangled bodies, and the
kids stuck in the middle. Well chock em up as another burden on society.
There are many unknown tortures of war and from the man on the frontline
to the man ordering the lead to supply the weapons we all feel them.

       Underneath it all the armor the layers of tissue the mirage of
an American soldier I’m just a little boy at heart struggling not to let
my smile die. Aiming to keep my soul warm but it feels as if dry ice is
sitting in its place. Roll out of bed every day to the same madness
always expected to stand tall, never shall I fall. It’s that pride for
my country, for my family, for myself. I can stand up and say fuck the
politician that has me here. Death before dishonor and dishonor would be
the refusal of defending my country. Put another round in the chamber,
reach down and grab some fortitude and just fire off some more rounds.
When do I know when the switch is gone, when does the joy perspire from
my pores and empty into the sand. How long before it’s nonexistent.

        It’s the struggle I fight every day. I know I’m doing well, but
whom for. Who bears the reward from my remorse? I am a soldier, and I
have duties laid out in front of me. Yet I question every day I wake up
in this country. Look over my body and say a silent prayer telling god
thanks. Thanks for the opportunity to live another day, to breath
another day, to have hope another day. Hopes that one day my mirage of
an American Dream can be a reality. A house, a beautiful wife, two kids,
two cars, and that’s my utopia. But for now I reach down and tighten up
my laces, rip apart at guts to find courage and scream at the world
thousands of miles away.

       Everyday I hear people back home complain about the lives they
lead. Talking about all the problems America holds. They don’t really
know, they haven’t seen the fate of a little girl in a middle eastern
country. The same little girl that has scars all over her body because
punishment here is to place that child’s hands and feet in boiling
water. The news will never show you that hell. GAS? POOR PEOPLE? Really
we have poor fat people in America.  If you want to complain I challenge
you to stand up and do something. If you believe it, achieve it. You
just tried on my shoes took a walk through my day and experienced my
form of proactive, struggles, and strife. America is the greatest nation
on Gods great earth and if you have a problem with something stand up
and stop being another whining scab on society. Will you answer the
challenge or you simply complain about what you just read and the lines
I crossed. The torch is in your hands. Will you drop it?

Nothingman

First listen to nothing man by pearl jam

Song holds meaning to me. I’ve held many conquests in my life.
I’ve went after females of all types. I’m a storyteller, good with words
and I know what they want to hear and how to tell them. You know you
don’t tell them their sexy you tell em their beautiful things of that
sort. I’ve had many people walk through my life and never leave an
impression. Told the stories till they didn’t believe I was superman and
then let them walk away. I caught a bolt of lightning, cursed the day I
let it go.

Awkward situations can turn into rewarding ones. She’s not the most
beautiful thing in the world, but her smile is. I hate whiners, but love
to hear her beg me to never let go of the embrace of a hug. Engulf me
with kisses, and get lost in the deep stare of her gleamy eyes. She once
believed in every story I had to tell. One day she stiffened took the
other side. But, she stuck around even when I put her through hell. She
knows I’m not superman but she knows I’m somebody. She knows that I feel
the same way she does. I could never ever replace certain things she has
done for me. How do you repay steps you know you can’t retrace? Words
left unspoken can never be taken back.

I could piece together a million letters to form thousands of words, but
it would still be incomplete. Never forget the ones that had a soft
stroke always on your heart. Catch your lightning, and inside you it
will spark like fireflies caught in a jar. Don’t be nothing man. Don’t
go on multiple conquests just searching for what was never out of reach
in the first place. He who fails to remember will never cease to forget.
Life or death should not define you as a person. Never let it get to
that point to realize what you take for granted. I walk on my own with
thoughts I can’t help thinking. Futures above, but in the past I’m
slowly sinking.

Few in my life have I ever loved. But the syllables of her name spoken
speak directly to my heart. She’s one of the few that will be there
forever and will always hold me to that nervous shyness. Every first
kiss in our rendezvous is the same. A shy touch followed by a hand on
the face then a loss of control. I am nothing man, but I am her wreck of
perfection. Caught my bolt of lightning and today I won’t let it go. My
lightning may never be in my life as a girlfriend or more, but she will
always be in my life to some degree. Figure out your lightning, and
don’t let it go. In a cursed and cruel world laughter and love are our
only combatants. Hold on to everything that once made you happy and you
to will be happy