where is your heart?
do you keep it in a box,
safe from those that may do it harm?
do you wear it on your sleeve,
where it is always accessible?
i keep mine in a safe
with a little peep hole
so it can look out,
but never be touched
unless i choose to
flip the lock.
i love unconditionally,
but i'm fully aware of
how flawed we are.
people make mistakes,
and those mistakes don't
necessarily make someone
bad. it just means that they
are prone to the flaws,
to the misleading illusions
of who they think they
should be in order to live up
to a certain image of what
the world says they should be.
this is the way of things.
we are composed of every
minute, every limitation,
or ideal we have been fed.
we get stuck in these little boxes
because we are told that safety
lies in those containers.
it is much like stereotypes.
we are told that that portion of the
population does a particular thing,
and we are suddenly convinced
that that is true because
that particular portion
is now trying to live up to
the stereotype provided. it becomes a
viscous cycle that is hard to break.
and just because someone says
they love unconditionally
it doesn't mean they are willing to
succumb to the ignorance of race,
or the radical view of sexuality,
or the limited morality of religion.
it simply means that they understand
that underneath the masks,
we are all just people, making our way,
trying to find the unconditional love
that was always there, no matter
what stereotype you're trying
to fit in.
don't do what they tell you.
don't believe what you are told.
don't be who they assume you to be.
don't give in to small notions of what it
should be, or how they want to identified you.
lock up your heart.
keep it safe.
allow it a peep hole to look out
unto the world that is trying to
identify you.
Monday, December 28, 2015
Sunday, December 27, 2015
Mrs. Mackinac's Cat
there was this pitbull
like the kind you hear about
on the nightly news
when the news is slow.
a mean sonofabitch,
the type that takes out a couple of toddlers,
robs a bank, and has his way
with a choir group.
he's 1 in 500;
the other 499 just like a good
scratch behind the ear,
or a nice belly rubbing.
a real Killer.
he didn't get out from the yard much,
but when he did,
all hell broke loose.
cars were stolen,
stores were looted,
mayhem was had.
one day this pitbull got out.
women and children fled to the
safety of their homes.
deadbolts were secured,
and alarms were set.
the police were called,
and the national guard was informed.
this goddamn dog had
a swagger in its step,
a look in its eye,
and an assurance of what
it was put on this great, green Earth for.
Mrs. Mackinac's cat strolled out through
the cat door in the kitchen and meandered
along the walkway beside the house
and into the front yard.
it paused to lick its paws,
and glanced up at the pretty, puffy clouds
bobbing in the big, blue sky.
the pitbull spotted the cat
and went for it like a freight train,
all gristle and muscle
with a maw filled with enough teeth
to make a great white cringe.
it barreled along the street.
steam rose from its nostrils.
a woman screamed.
Mrs. Mackinac's cat casually glanced over at the
behemoth galloping closer.
the cat licked its paw again
as the pitbull cleared twenty yards
in a flash.
the dog opened its mouth.
teeth gleamed,
saliva flowed,
spittle sprayed.
mere inches away
from gobbling down the cat,
the feline jumped up straight into the air.
the dog was befuddled at the vanishing cat.
and down Mrs. Mackinac's cat came
with razor sharp claws extended
in switch blade - like glory.
the previously docile cat came down
with fury,
landing on the pitbull's face.
blood and fur flew.
the dog yelped.
the cat flipped backward
and landed on its feet
as the dog fled,
blind and defeated.
the cat licked its paw.
later that evening, old Killer
had to be put down.
Mrs. Mackinac's cat still likes
gazing up at the clouds
in the big, bright, blue sky.
and from time to time,
the cat can be seen bathing in the sun,
and purring a little tune
that tells of patience
and grace.
like the kind you hear about
on the nightly news
when the news is slow.
a mean sonofabitch,
the type that takes out a couple of toddlers,
robs a bank, and has his way
with a choir group.
he's 1 in 500;
the other 499 just like a good
scratch behind the ear,
or a nice belly rubbing.
a real Killer.
he didn't get out from the yard much,
but when he did,
all hell broke loose.
cars were stolen,
stores were looted,
mayhem was had.
one day this pitbull got out.
women and children fled to the
safety of their homes.
deadbolts were secured,
and alarms were set.
the police were called,
and the national guard was informed.
this goddamn dog had
a swagger in its step,
a look in its eye,
and an assurance of what
it was put on this great, green Earth for.
Mrs. Mackinac's cat strolled out through
the cat door in the kitchen and meandered
along the walkway beside the house
and into the front yard.
it paused to lick its paws,
and glanced up at the pretty, puffy clouds
bobbing in the big, blue sky.
the pitbull spotted the cat
and went for it like a freight train,
all gristle and muscle
with a maw filled with enough teeth
to make a great white cringe.
it barreled along the street.
steam rose from its nostrils.
a woman screamed.
Mrs. Mackinac's cat casually glanced over at the
behemoth galloping closer.
the cat licked its paw again
as the pitbull cleared twenty yards
in a flash.
the dog opened its mouth.
teeth gleamed,
saliva flowed,
spittle sprayed.
mere inches away
from gobbling down the cat,
the feline jumped up straight into the air.
the dog was befuddled at the vanishing cat.
and down Mrs. Mackinac's cat came
with razor sharp claws extended
in switch blade - like glory.
the previously docile cat came down
with fury,
landing on the pitbull's face.
blood and fur flew.
the dog yelped.
the cat flipped backward
and landed on its feet
as the dog fled,
blind and defeated.
the cat licked its paw.
later that evening, old Killer
had to be put down.
Mrs. Mackinac's cat still likes
gazing up at the clouds
in the big, bright, blue sky.
and from time to time,
the cat can be seen bathing in the sun,
and purring a little tune
that tells of patience
and grace.
Friday, December 25, 2015
Xmas is a trick pony
everyone's a trick pony, and i have lost my taste for sweets.
they memorize their poesy. they believe it will get them
noticed,
recognized, adored. it's no bother. waste the space in your
head- better than writing anyhow.
smokesweet and drowned in opinion. let the quiet fill the
noise as the curtains are drawn and the bath is filled and
the steam rises and reason out all the shit that ails you.
when it is time for bed there's nothing left to do but rest
your head and let the sands of time settle all of the bets.
some believe in the miracle of Xmas.
i believe in rain.
they memorize their poesy. they believe it will get them
noticed,
recognized, adored. it's no bother. waste the space in your
head- better than writing anyhow.
smokesweet and drowned in opinion. let the quiet fill the
noise as the curtains are drawn and the bath is filled and
the steam rises and reason out all the shit that ails you.
when it is time for bed there's nothing left to do but rest
your head and let the sands of time settle all of the bets.
some believe in the miracle of Xmas.
i believe in rain.
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
the headline reads:
creatures,
far and wide
come for the festivities.
they read the headlines,
but not the news
for they believe the
headline is good enough,
gives a taste
of what they need.
they believe it without
having to go any farther.
nothing's new.
nothing's changed.
there's new shit
the third Thursday
of every month
so they get high.
the creatures
stand
undivided in the truth
that leaks from the
tube. bloodbath
incarnate.
the windows are dirty,
but there's not much to see.
there is a glass of wine
waiting on the counter
so she washes it down
and peaks through the shades
across the way to the
neighbor's house where
she finds the old man
out in his underwear again,
clipping the hedges.
he wears a grin.
the shears are spot rusted,
but the blades still gleam.
he picks at his balls,
and discerns his next move,
wavering over the hedges
to eyeball the level of the cut.
she opens another bottle from the fridge
and pours another glass.
she takes a sip as the old man
delicately clips a stray leaf
from the hedge.
eyeballs it good,
and goes in for another clip.
the neighbor's Yorkie
bounds out from the hedges
and barks.
the old man is caught off guard
and jumps back.
the little dog pants.
the old man grumbles.
she downs the second
glass of wine
as the old man kicks at the dog.
the dog jumps him,
and begins humping his leg.
she giggles.
the old man falls back,
and in an act defying physics,
the shears tuck under the hedge,
lean drastically toward the old man's
torso,
and down, clipping off his testicles.
he screams in pain
while the Yorkie goes in
for another round on his leg.
the headline reads:
man is castrated by lusty bitch in act
of exhibitionism.
far and wide
come for the festivities.
they read the headlines,
but not the news
for they believe the
headline is good enough,
gives a taste
of what they need.
they believe it without
having to go any farther.
nothing's new.
nothing's changed.
there's new shit
the third Thursday
of every month
so they get high.
the creatures
stand
undivided in the truth
that leaks from the
tube. bloodbath
incarnate.
the windows are dirty,
but there's not much to see.
there is a glass of wine
waiting on the counter
so she washes it down
and peaks through the shades
across the way to the
neighbor's house where
she finds the old man
out in his underwear again,
clipping the hedges.
he wears a grin.
the shears are spot rusted,
but the blades still gleam.
he picks at his balls,
and discerns his next move,
wavering over the hedges
to eyeball the level of the cut.
she opens another bottle from the fridge
and pours another glass.
she takes a sip as the old man
delicately clips a stray leaf
from the hedge.
eyeballs it good,
and goes in for another clip.
the neighbor's Yorkie
bounds out from the hedges
and barks.
the old man is caught off guard
and jumps back.
the little dog pants.
the old man grumbles.
she downs the second
glass of wine
as the old man kicks at the dog.
the dog jumps him,
and begins humping his leg.
she giggles.
the old man falls back,
and in an act defying physics,
the shears tuck under the hedge,
lean drastically toward the old man's
torso,
and down, clipping off his testicles.
he screams in pain
while the Yorkie goes in
for another round on his leg.
the headline reads:
man is castrated by lusty bitch in act
of exhibitionism.
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
the truth in love's light
he remembered the warm kiss.
the shape of her legs.
her downy white skin
laced with lace,
and the taste
of her neck
that could drown
a man in lust.
he drank entirely
too much that night,
remembering,
remembering,
remember.
with music soft
on the air,
and a heart
that cared too much,
he could see her
clothes askew
and the ripe,
round ass
bobbing
in dusk's light.
eyes that showed
the gleam from the window
where crows cawed
and coughed out little rhymes
about drunken men
too far up love's ass.
sobbing,
he tore at his chest
and wailed
for his love was lost
on the ocean that drives
the waves through the mind
of a madman,
beckoning the
creatures into
absolution.
sobbing,
he tore at the tears
of his cheeks.
he wreaked of wine
and cigarettes,
and musk.
eyes swollen,
sight blurred,
coughing up
old memories
because he was
a pussy.
the shape of her legs.
her downy white skin
laced with lace,
and the taste
of her neck
that could drown
a man in lust.
he drank entirely
too much that night,
remembering,
remembering,
remember.
with music soft
on the air,
and a heart
that cared too much,
he could see her
clothes askew
and the ripe,
round ass
bobbing
in dusk's light.
eyes that showed
the gleam from the window
where crows cawed
and coughed out little rhymes
about drunken men
too far up love's ass.
sobbing,
he tore at his chest
and wailed
for his love was lost
on the ocean that drives
the waves through the mind
of a madman,
beckoning the
creatures into
absolution.
sobbing,
he tore at the tears
of his cheeks.
he wreaked of wine
and cigarettes,
and musk.
eyes swollen,
sight blurred,
coughing up
old memories
because he was
a pussy.
a single finger. a single salute.
save me a special moment where the dogs
are calm
and the fingers extend middle first
before the end comes quickly.
let me tell them one more time,
let them know,
let them
hear it from the source.
wash away the thickets
in manure
and hold until the very last second,
this draining extension
of worth
we call love.
bathe in the bile
that is inclusion.
build a monument
in their honor.
but it is not enough.
there is never enough time
to get it all out
and hand over the final moments
in a gesture
obscene.
there is never enough time
to take time for time.
there is never enough minutes
in the day
to say
all the building venom
that stirs in the soul.
a waterfall.
a lake.
a darkened plot of land
where a building once stood
as a magnificent testimony
to human endurance
and ingenuity.
and some motherfucker
had to go and blow it to hell.
is that not
where we are?
what we have become?
is that not the way of all things?
if it gets to be
too much,
blow it the fuck up.
forget about reason.
forget about logic, compassion,
mercy, sympathy, delusion.
if we think it
at this very moment,
it must be true,
right?
a cup.
a cigarette.
an ashtray
perched on a table,
ready to fall to the ground
where the ashes will be spread
like
the legs of forty virgins
just waiting
for an asshole like you.
because everyone knows
there is no heaven
for virgins.
there is only a heaven for assholes
and murderers,
con men and
scapegoats,
for leaders and the successful
who build empires on the backs
of the disillusioned.
so,
save me a special moment
where the dogs are calm
and the fingers extend
middle first
before the end
comes quickly.
i just want to let them know
where i stand.
are calm
and the fingers extend middle first
before the end comes quickly.
let me tell them one more time,
let them know,
let them
hear it from the source.
wash away the thickets
in manure
and hold until the very last second,
this draining extension
of worth
we call love.
bathe in the bile
that is inclusion.
build a monument
in their honor.
but it is not enough.
there is never enough time
to get it all out
and hand over the final moments
in a gesture
obscene.
there is never enough time
to take time for time.
there is never enough minutes
in the day
to say
all the building venom
that stirs in the soul.
a waterfall.
a lake.
a darkened plot of land
where a building once stood
as a magnificent testimony
to human endurance
and ingenuity.
and some motherfucker
had to go and blow it to hell.
is that not
where we are?
what we have become?
is that not the way of all things?
if it gets to be
too much,
blow it the fuck up.
forget about reason.
forget about logic, compassion,
mercy, sympathy, delusion.
if we think it
at this very moment,
it must be true,
right?
a cup.
a cigarette.
an ashtray
perched on a table,
ready to fall to the ground
where the ashes will be spread
like
the legs of forty virgins
just waiting
for an asshole like you.
because everyone knows
there is no heaven
for virgins.
there is only a heaven for assholes
and murderers,
con men and
scapegoats,
for leaders and the successful
who build empires on the backs
of the disillusioned.
so,
save me a special moment
where the dogs are calm
and the fingers extend
middle first
before the end
comes quickly.
i just want to let them know
where i stand.
9 to 5 minutes to midnight
it is easy to console the soul;
drop everything and follow where your heart
leads you.
but if you want to pay the rent, the car payment,
the utilities, the insurance, the medical bills-
work away with everything you have
until there is nothing much left of who you were
before you began the miracle that is adulthood.
grind the coffee beans and brew up a pot
before work.
shit, shower, repeat.
throw on some clothes, and make sure they fit the times,
and the fashion, but forget function: looking good
is supposed to hurt.
put gas in the car, clean the windshield so you can see
the assholes coming.
pay for parking.
lock the doors, and set the alarm.
take the walkway. glance at he old homeless woman
losing her mind. stand up straight.
be a slave to convention. go in debt.
punch the clock, or swipe the card to let the powers that be
know you are ready to begin. smother the soul
and begin your day.
try to make the screaming in your head stop.
use the toilet and cry on the pot.
refresh your cup of coffee.
glance at the clock. adjust your soul.
run away before it is too late.
drop everything and follow where your heart
leads you.
but if you want to pay the rent, the car payment,
the utilities, the insurance, the medical bills-
work away with everything you have
until there is nothing much left of who you were
before you began the miracle that is adulthood.
grind the coffee beans and brew up a pot
before work.
shit, shower, repeat.
throw on some clothes, and make sure they fit the times,
and the fashion, but forget function: looking good
is supposed to hurt.
put gas in the car, clean the windshield so you can see
the assholes coming.
pay for parking.
lock the doors, and set the alarm.
take the walkway. glance at he old homeless woman
losing her mind. stand up straight.
be a slave to convention. go in debt.
punch the clock, or swipe the card to let the powers that be
know you are ready to begin. smother the soul
and begin your day.
try to make the screaming in your head stop.
use the toilet and cry on the pot.
refresh your cup of coffee.
glance at the clock. adjust your soul.
run away before it is too late.
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
Forget me not
Nothing is clear cut,
or set in stone,
or arranged in such a way
as to be the end all truth.
At some point in your life
you will be told
that you should think
outside of the box,
but
there was never a box
to begin with.
There is conformity,
and there is anarchy.
There is a blending of the two.
There are rules
to keep people safe,
and there are rules
designed to make money
for those who make the
laws.
Some laws are put into place
for the greater good.
Other laws are established to
bleed the people dry.
There is a fine line
between Democracy and Death.
But you can not save people from themselves.
We are all responsible for our own lives.
Every decision we make
carries weight. Every choice we
are confronted with
impacts the overall value
of the life we are dealt.
You will be told
that life is valuable
even though it is not
in the greater scope
of what life really
means.
One life suddenly snuffed out
will only impact
the immediate lives
it has encountered. It
may cause a stir
for a period of time,
but humanity is fickle,
and will soon forget
the cause of death.
A new issue will arise,
the demons of our past
will be soon forgotten,
and something new will
fill the space
in the void
where that one life
existed.
We will find new causes,
and those causes will be
left behind for other causes.
We are fickle,
we are picky,
we are forgetful,
and we are lazy.
A new piece of
technology will
be introduced,
and whatever it was
that had us in its grip
will soon diminish.
A new piece of
news will grip the
Nation, and the
old soundbite
will quickly fade away
into obscurity.
Something we should
pay attention to
will be overshadowed
by an act of violence
that will make the world
tremble,
and we will move on
to bigger, better things.
An environmental crises
will wane and fade
into an endless
war that can never
be won.
But never mind
all that,
how about the
new movie
that is making
the rounds?
Are you going
to go
see it?
Can we talk about
that for the next
few weeks
while people die
for lost causes?
or set in stone,
or arranged in such a way
as to be the end all truth.
At some point in your life
you will be told
that you should think
outside of the box,
but
there was never a box
to begin with.
There is conformity,
and there is anarchy.
There is a blending of the two.
There are rules
to keep people safe,
and there are rules
designed to make money
for those who make the
laws.
Some laws are put into place
for the greater good.
Other laws are established to
bleed the people dry.
There is a fine line
between Democracy and Death.
But you can not save people from themselves.
We are all responsible for our own lives.
Every decision we make
carries weight. Every choice we
are confronted with
impacts the overall value
of the life we are dealt.
You will be told
that life is valuable
even though it is not
in the greater scope
of what life really
means.
One life suddenly snuffed out
will only impact
the immediate lives
it has encountered. It
may cause a stir
for a period of time,
but humanity is fickle,
and will soon forget
the cause of death.
A new issue will arise,
the demons of our past
will be soon forgotten,
and something new will
fill the space
in the void
where that one life
existed.
We will find new causes,
and those causes will be
left behind for other causes.
We are fickle,
we are picky,
we are forgetful,
and we are lazy.
A new piece of
technology will
be introduced,
and whatever it was
that had us in its grip
will soon diminish.
A new piece of
news will grip the
Nation, and the
old soundbite
will quickly fade away
into obscurity.
Something we should
pay attention to
will be overshadowed
by an act of violence
that will make the world
tremble,
and we will move on
to bigger, better things.
An environmental crises
will wane and fade
into an endless
war that can never
be won.
But never mind
all that,
how about the
new movie
that is making
the rounds?
Are you going
to go
see it?
Can we talk about
that for the next
few weeks
while people die
for lost causes?
Monday, December 14, 2015
just for a second
the mind machine
is indifferent
to the play of
the physical.
it matters not
that the Earth
rumbles
with war cries.
a tiny leaf
lay prone.
what we were once
is never so certain,
never so firm
that it cannot be
taken away
through forgetfulness.
what we become
is a matter of purpose.
we let go of
the tiny nothings
that tie us down
in order to become
what we must.
dreams fall away
effortlessly.
no child
ever said,
"I want to be
a slave to
a system
that wants to
destroy me
for gain."
there is a breath,
and another.
a sigh,
then another.
a love,
and then it's over.
for every death
is dire intention,
dragging the last of you
away
until all that remains
is the very thing
you fear the most.
and suddenly you
are no longer who
you once were. you
have been replaced with
a modern facsimile of that
which you thought you would
become.
all the dreams
wash away.
there's nothing more
to hold firm.
just a small frown
where a smile once
emerged, and
nothing more.
a tiny leaf
lay prone
in a puddle
of water,
clear as
the light
of the morning
sun,
above a ripple
like time
standing still
if only
for a second.
and the end
stumbles upon us
so slowly
that it quickens
the pulse
as the blade
dips further
and falls
as a razor
across the neck
of our own undoing.
so dreams
are wished away,
and nothing more.
a tiny leaf
lay prone.
is indifferent
to the play of
the physical.
it matters not
that the Earth
rumbles
with war cries.
a tiny leaf
lay prone.
what we were once
is never so certain,
never so firm
that it cannot be
taken away
through forgetfulness.
what we become
is a matter of purpose.
we let go of
the tiny nothings
that tie us down
in order to become
what we must.
dreams fall away
effortlessly.
no child
ever said,
"I want to be
a slave to
a system
that wants to
destroy me
for gain."
there is a breath,
and another.
a sigh,
then another.
a love,
and then it's over.
for every death
is dire intention,
dragging the last of you
away
until all that remains
is the very thing
you fear the most.
and suddenly you
are no longer who
you once were. you
have been replaced with
a modern facsimile of that
which you thought you would
become.
all the dreams
wash away.
there's nothing more
to hold firm.
just a small frown
where a smile once
emerged, and
nothing more.
a tiny leaf
lay prone
in a puddle
of water,
clear as
the light
of the morning
sun,
above a ripple
like time
standing still
if only
for a second.
and the end
stumbles upon us
so slowly
that it quickens
the pulse
as the blade
dips further
and falls
as a razor
across the neck
of our own undoing.
so dreams
are wished away,
and nothing more.
a tiny leaf
lay prone.
What she Saw
She
sensed herself in the mirror,
but the
image wasn’t her own.
The face
was smooth
and
young,
but foreign, misplaced, wrong.
She had
seen herself before,
had
counted each of the lashes
which
closed like a trap over her eyes.
She had
watched her mouth tense countless
times
without revealing too much
of herself.
But this
woman was a stranger.
She
splashed some water onto
her face
and let
the droplets descend
along her
cheeks.
Still,
the reflection did not waver.
The young
girl was there,
gazing
back through
those
traps set to lids,
a dark
red
before
the mascara smeared.
She was
pale.
She knew
nothing of the world
that
held her.
She knew
nothing of herself
or anything else that had came along
through the years
like shards from the mirror,
reflecting the stains in her eyes.
But the
image stood firm.
At her center was
someone
who knew,
someone
who had seen
their
fair share
and
failed to shake it off
like so
many others had done
before
her.
That woman there, she pointed,
could be tempted. She could be
hurt, damaged, broken beyond
repair.
I am not that woman,
she said.
She had
thrown off the man in her life
like an
old rag
too dirty
to wash.
She threw
him away
in the
same way
he threw her aside
and trampled that last part
of her that remained
pure.
The
feeling of loss never came,
just the
reflection of a young girl
that
forced her to stare back at herself.
It’s a symptom, she
said, nothing more.
I’m sick and it will only be a matter of time before
I’m well again.
Being
ill taunted her.
She could
feel the nausea like poison,
feel the
heart race a little faster
with just
a memory,
with the
flash of an image
of the
way he smiled,
or how he
would hold her
so close
that
the tension
melted
like wax
along a rose colored
candle
she only lit for him.
A small
breath of laughter,
and he
vanished,
but the
girl in the mirror
remained,
droplets
of water
drying
in the
reflection
of a pool
she knelt
beside,
hoping to
rinse away the hurt
that was
caused by the man
who took
her innocence
away.
The
mirror of water rippled away
with a
touch from
the same
finger
she used
to point
at him in
accusation
when she
caught him
with that
other girl
who
looked just
like the
reflection
she was
staring at
right now.
Thursday, December 10, 2015
where we lose humanity
there are those
who are radicalized
by cheap smiles
and designer suits.
their colors show
when their hate
is sparked
through anger and fear.
they fear others
like them,
those who may
do harm with bitter
intention,
with misplaced
scrutiny,
with dire intent.
radicals are all
the same.
they use images of terror
to herd the masses.
they use flowery tongues
to misrepresent the truth.
they hide as common men
with a common goals,
and claim a common enemy.
they are the spark that
sets the fire
that rages in the hearts
of little men.
they become tyrants,
and millions
fall
by their foolish
endeavors.
who are radicalized
by cheap smiles
and designer suits.
their colors show
when their hate
is sparked
through anger and fear.
they fear others
like them,
those who may
do harm with bitter
intention,
with misplaced
scrutiny,
with dire intent.
radicals are all
the same.
they use images of terror
to herd the masses.
they use flowery tongues
to misrepresent the truth.
they hide as common men
with a common goals,
and claim a common enemy.
they are the spark that
sets the fire
that rages in the hearts
of little men.
they become tyrants,
and millions
fall
by their foolish
endeavors.
Monday, December 7, 2015
percentages
there are
approximately
283 million
guns
in the United States.
less than 1%
of those guns
have committed
mass murder.
85%
of the mass
homicides
are committed
by men.
100% of men
rely on oxygen
to survive.
12 + 6 = 18
there are 318.9 million
people in the United States.
1 in 3 American households
own guns.
25% of Americans acknowledged
they were superstitious.
3% of murders are committed
with legally purchased guns.
14.5% of Americans live
below the poverty line.
approximately 34% of Americans
18 years or older have a college
education.
1.3% of all deaths in
the United States
are related to guns.
there 30,800 fatal car crashes each year
on American roadways.
there are 11,208 deaths a year
by gun related homicide.
15,206 people die
every year from poisoning.
5,800 deaths a year are work related.
1 + 1 = 3
approximately
283 million
guns
in the United States.
less than 1%
of those guns
have committed
mass murder.
85%
of the mass
homicides
are committed
by men.
100% of men
rely on oxygen
to survive.
12 + 6 = 18
there are 318.9 million
people in the United States.
1 in 3 American households
own guns.
25% of Americans acknowledged
they were superstitious.
3% of murders are committed
with legally purchased guns.
14.5% of Americans live
below the poverty line.
approximately 34% of Americans
18 years or older have a college
education.
1.3% of all deaths in
the United States
are related to guns.
there 30,800 fatal car crashes each year
on American roadways.
there are 11,208 deaths a year
by gun related homicide.
15,206 people die
every year from poisoning.
5,800 deaths a year are work related.
1 + 1 = 3
Sunday, December 6, 2015
watch it walk slowly
no one wants to visit
the harsh reality
that the days
are slipping away
and there might not be
enough time
to make time for time.
it is always tomorrow
or the next day,
feeding the minutes away
for just one more moment,
another chance to get it down,
get it done.
but it all falls apart
and what was most important
gets pushed aside
for what needs to happen now.
an endless,
circular motion,
coming back
upon itself.
crazy, bark-eyed men shuffling along
to the music that plays in their own
rattling heads, looking for a few more
minutes to drum up a symphony, but
the orchestra never arrives.
no one wants to visit the harsh reality
that you truly die alone, and all the
friends in the world can't bring you
down that winding road.
so we wait,
shaking off the sand,
and it gathers
@ our feet
only to restrict our movements
more and more.
but nobody listens,
and the flowers
get cast aside
for bigger,
better
guns.
the harsh reality
that the days
are slipping away
and there might not be
enough time
to make time for time.
it is always tomorrow
or the next day,
feeding the minutes away
for just one more moment,
another chance to get it down,
get it done.
but it all falls apart
and what was most important
gets pushed aside
for what needs to happen now.
an endless,
circular motion,
coming back
upon itself.
crazy, bark-eyed men shuffling along
to the music that plays in their own
rattling heads, looking for a few more
minutes to drum up a symphony, but
the orchestra never arrives.
no one wants to visit the harsh reality
that you truly die alone, and all the
friends in the world can't bring you
down that winding road.
so we wait,
shaking off the sand,
and it gathers
@ our feet
only to restrict our movements
more and more.
but nobody listens,
and the flowers
get cast aside
for bigger,
better
guns.
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
legal junkies
there's this thing
called oil.
it is becoming so scarce
that we are using
more expensive ways
to extract it from
the Earth.
it is not only used
to fuel
the vast majority
of our vehicles,
but also to provide
energy to nearly
every region of our planet.
plastics, pharmaceuticals,
hygiene products, clothing,
industrial additives...
the list goes on and on.
we create wars to
secure more of this precious
elixir because
we are becoming desperate.
we destabilize the Earth's
surface to extract much less of
this resource just to keep
it flowing.
it is not because we don't
have other means to utilize.
it is because it's cheap,
and reaps the most profit
in the least amount of time.
no one that you know is getting
rich off of oil. oil profits are reserved
for the wealthiest people.
these are the people that are
in charge. they pull
the strings. and
they will make all of us
go away because of their greed.
because oil also destroys
the climate of our
increasingly fragile planet.
no more farms. no more lumber.
no more oceans, streams, or rivers.
no more middle class. no more
poor. and eventually, no more rich.
we're all losing ground to
a dying resource
held captive
by the insanity of greed.
because the reality is that
greed is a sickness
and should be treated as such.
because only the sick
would destroy their only
home in exchange
for a temporary high.
greed is an addiction.
and like all addictions,
if it goes unchecked,
it will only lead to
more excuses to maintain
that addiction.
called oil.
it is becoming so scarce
that we are using
more expensive ways
to extract it from
the Earth.
it is not only used
to fuel
the vast majority
of our vehicles,
but also to provide
energy to nearly
every region of our planet.
plastics, pharmaceuticals,
hygiene products, clothing,
industrial additives...
the list goes on and on.
we create wars to
secure more of this precious
elixir because
we are becoming desperate.
we destabilize the Earth's
surface to extract much less of
this resource just to keep
it flowing.
it is not because we don't
have other means to utilize.
it is because it's cheap,
and reaps the most profit
in the least amount of time.
no one that you know is getting
rich off of oil. oil profits are reserved
for the wealthiest people.
these are the people that are
in charge. they pull
the strings. and
they will make all of us
go away because of their greed.
because oil also destroys
the climate of our
increasingly fragile planet.
no more farms. no more lumber.
no more oceans, streams, or rivers.
no more middle class. no more
poor. and eventually, no more rich.
we're all losing ground to
a dying resource
held captive
by the insanity of greed.
because the reality is that
greed is a sickness
and should be treated as such.
because only the sick
would destroy their only
home in exchange
for a temporary high.
greed is an addiction.
and like all addictions,
if it goes unchecked,
it will only lead to
more excuses to maintain
that addiction.
Monday, November 30, 2015
a level of separation
sometimes there's a weight
on your back
and it becomes hard to stand.
so much pressure weighing down,
pushing, maintaining a void
inside yourself
that you're afraid to fall, and
you're afraid to get back up
if you should stumble.
but the weight builds.
it's always there.
it comes disguised as problems,
issues too hard to face,
places from childhood
that are dark, yet always lit up
in the back of your mind.
it comes from wondering about
the decisions you've made
along the way.
it comes from being a young
adult, a 30 something, a middle aged
something or other, elderly,
too old to know better.
it comes from all the things tossed
upon your shoulders that never really have
any true meaning, just labels thrown around
by those that believe they know the way.
racist, god fearing, right wing,
left wing, conspiracy theorist,
bigot, bold, beautiful, too fat, too thin,
marked for death, prodigy, loser,
lover, tamed, tried, sinful,
science, damaged ...
all the labels by those
who try to absorb
what they can not possibly understand
in any other way.
they give it a name,
make it stronger than it should be,
treat it like an infection,
tell you they have the cure.
they tell you that
certain lives matter to give the message
function, to cause separation,
hoping to make one issue clear
while driving all the other issues
out of focus.
they run on issues of hope and change.
they begin endless wars,
confident struggles
without end.
they make sweeping promises
to lower taxes,
increase education,
and take away the powers of the wealthy.
they'll tell you
there's a war over race,
but it is only perpetuated by those
that they allow into power.
because, you see,
if they can get you to believe
in an endless struggle,
they can keep you in the dark forever
while they build more bombs.
they can keep you at each others throats
indefinitely, and keep the factories
running to supply the soldiers
on both sides.
all they need to do is
maintain a level of separation,
and we will do the rest.
on your back
and it becomes hard to stand.
so much pressure weighing down,
pushing, maintaining a void
inside yourself
that you're afraid to fall, and
you're afraid to get back up
if you should stumble.
but the weight builds.
it's always there.
it comes disguised as problems,
issues too hard to face,
places from childhood
that are dark, yet always lit up
in the back of your mind.
it comes from wondering about
the decisions you've made
along the way.
it comes from being a young
adult, a 30 something, a middle aged
something or other, elderly,
too old to know better.
it comes from all the things tossed
upon your shoulders that never really have
any true meaning, just labels thrown around
by those that believe they know the way.
racist, god fearing, right wing,
left wing, conspiracy theorist,
bigot, bold, beautiful, too fat, too thin,
marked for death, prodigy, loser,
lover, tamed, tried, sinful,
science, damaged ...
all the labels by those
who try to absorb
what they can not possibly understand
in any other way.
they give it a name,
make it stronger than it should be,
treat it like an infection,
tell you they have the cure.
they tell you that
certain lives matter to give the message
function, to cause separation,
hoping to make one issue clear
while driving all the other issues
out of focus.
they run on issues of hope and change.
they begin endless wars,
confident struggles
without end.
they make sweeping promises
to lower taxes,
increase education,
and take away the powers of the wealthy.
they'll tell you
there's a war over race,
but it is only perpetuated by those
that they allow into power.
because, you see,
if they can get you to believe
in an endless struggle,
they can keep you in the dark forever
while they build more bombs.
they can keep you at each others throats
indefinitely, and keep the factories
running to supply the soldiers
on both sides.
all they need to do is
maintain a level of separation,
and we will do the rest.
Friday, November 27, 2015
wars for heathens and whores
something bigger than us
don't make a fuss
over small things
just sing away
the creatures
of ink black midnight
and tap your foot
to the beat
bought flowers
every hour we were together
and we like to pretend in forever
in any kind of weather
where the rain is for never
laugh out at the
pouring pain
again and again
until we win
some sort of prize
for the lies
of tongues dyed with
seeping vengeance
hold me closer
count the stars
call me lover
touch the scars
and somewhere deep
we're one and the same
playing some viscous game
from within a somber sleep
hold your head up
past the knots in your throat
however remote
until our hearts erupt
and there's something in the distance
from another time
call it penance
or reasons for rhyme
but i want to take you there
as the last laugh was had
and we felt the piercing stab
of the creatures of reason
who judged us heathens
in the misty morning rain
we gave our all
and we were never tamed
hold me closer
count the stars
call me lover
touch the scars
maybe one day we'll look back
and laugh away the war
but that almost never happens
for heathens and whores
don't make a fuss
over small things
just sing away
the creatures
of ink black midnight
and tap your foot
to the beat
bought flowers
every hour we were together
and we like to pretend in forever
in any kind of weather
where the rain is for never
laugh out at the
pouring pain
again and again
until we win
some sort of prize
for the lies
of tongues dyed with
seeping vengeance
hold me closer
count the stars
call me lover
touch the scars
and somewhere deep
we're one and the same
playing some viscous game
from within a somber sleep
hold your head up
past the knots in your throat
however remote
until our hearts erupt
and there's something in the distance
from another time
call it penance
or reasons for rhyme
but i want to take you there
as the last laugh was had
and we felt the piercing stab
of the creatures of reason
who judged us heathens
in the misty morning rain
we gave our all
and we were never tamed
hold me closer
count the stars
call me lover
touch the scars
maybe one day we'll look back
and laugh away the war
but that almost never happens
for heathens and whores
Thursday, November 26, 2015
served as pleasure
we all carry violence-
it is in our hearts,
this willing need to blow off steam
and rejoice in our own normalcy,
driving away anything that is different
from us.
we make murder like
the sun makes shine,
and we wallow in the stink of
anger like the gods
we hold divine.
not two of us are totally alike,
we plant the seed of hate
and water it with a river
that has burst its seams
and the devil may cry at our
mistaken bludgeoning
of the suffering of our brothers.
but we hold true
and dash the deeds
that make us the animals
we fear,
and we tear apart anything
outside the spectrum
of our particular beliefs
to cause grief
for those who may
restrain us.
it comes slick
in our minds to harm,
to hurt, to maim, to break
until nothing is left
of that which we fear
and we shed a tear for those who fall
by our hands
in foreign lands
for the sins of leaders
bent on weeding out the weak.
of all our made up gods,
vengeance is the voice
of the Lord, Amen.
anything outside of our
forced learning may succumb
to the righteous weapons
of the blessed.
but no one likes to look at
themselves.
no one wants to be the
victim.
no one wants to be the
single voice
shouting out into the night,
"This must end!"
what changes have you made?
it is in our hearts,
this willing need to blow off steam
and rejoice in our own normalcy,
driving away anything that is different
from us.
we make murder like
the sun makes shine,
and we wallow in the stink of
anger like the gods
we hold divine.
not two of us are totally alike,
we plant the seed of hate
and water it with a river
that has burst its seams
and the devil may cry at our
mistaken bludgeoning
of the suffering of our brothers.
but we hold true
and dash the deeds
that make us the animals
we fear,
and we tear apart anything
outside the spectrum
of our particular beliefs
to cause grief
for those who may
restrain us.
it comes slick
in our minds to harm,
to hurt, to maim, to break
until nothing is left
of that which we fear
and we shed a tear for those who fall
by our hands
in foreign lands
for the sins of leaders
bent on weeding out the weak.
of all our made up gods,
vengeance is the voice
of the Lord, Amen.
anything outside of our
forced learning may succumb
to the righteous weapons
of the blessed.
but no one likes to look at
themselves.
no one wants to be the
victim.
no one wants to be the
single voice
shouting out into the night,
"This must end!"
what changes have you made?
Monday, November 16, 2015
Common Core
So much is left unexplained.
Science tiptoes through the
unknown only to wipe away
a small clearing on the mirror
that reflects our own images.
Under it all there is still only
insight, a tiny reflection where
we are staring into our own eyes.
We try to believe that those who
would do us harm only need to
see things from our perspective
to become right with the world.
As if we have all the answers
to the riddles that plague humanity.
Through us and our understanding,
all will be well again. No more
fussing and fighting, no more pain
and intolerance. No more undue
death in the name of some lesser
perspective.
But the problem remains: no one
has the answers for those that are
looking for a cause to back and
support with all their being.
It is simple. We are looking for a
purpose. Something that sets us apart
from the rest, something great that we
can look back upon fondly. As if we
have made a difference with our lives.
So we get caught up in doctrine to unravel
the mysteries of the universe to give some
truth to the world in which we live. We
follow those philosophies to the ends of
the Earth without question, without faltering,
no matter the consequences. We try to
upend society to better fit the principles we
believe in even if those principles do not
fit the values of others.
And then we insight conflict if our principles
are not met. We will plow through anything
that gets in our way just to prove our point.
I have always believed that it is our education
that sets us apart from the rest, allows us to see
clearly through broken history how best to not
react to a particular situation. But when we have
religions and governments banning certain types
of learning, we begin to fail. We again lean
toward old doctrines that are allowed rather that
understandings that are true.
The one question I have asked myself when faced
with any trial is, 'Does this decision harm anyone
around me?' If it does, I move on to something else,
a better answer to the questions I face. If at any point
my decision disrupts the healthy freedoms of another,
I take another looks until my question is resolved.
One of the biggest problems we have in this life is
the lack of sympathy. No one seems to want to look
at life in any other format than their own. They simply
can not relate. It is that relation to one another that
keeps us whole.
(I could play my music loudly and get enjoyment for
myself, but how will that impact the people around me
that may not like the type of music I enjoy?)
(I could let my children out to scream around the
neighborhood, effectively giving me free, quiet time,
but how would that impact my neighbors?)
We are all on a path to personal realization,
and not everyone is at the same place. So
when we take another look at the people around
us, we have to look at their situations, and the
impact our decisions make on their lives.
Or we could just sit here spinning our tires,
hoping to somehow get a little traction.
Science tiptoes through the
unknown only to wipe away
a small clearing on the mirror
that reflects our own images.
Under it all there is still only
insight, a tiny reflection where
we are staring into our own eyes.
We try to believe that those who
would do us harm only need to
see things from our perspective
to become right with the world.
As if we have all the answers
to the riddles that plague humanity.
Through us and our understanding,
all will be well again. No more
fussing and fighting, no more pain
and intolerance. No more undue
death in the name of some lesser
perspective.
But the problem remains: no one
has the answers for those that are
looking for a cause to back and
support with all their being.
It is simple. We are looking for a
purpose. Something that sets us apart
from the rest, something great that we
can look back upon fondly. As if we
have made a difference with our lives.
So we get caught up in doctrine to unravel
the mysteries of the universe to give some
truth to the world in which we live. We
follow those philosophies to the ends of
the Earth without question, without faltering,
no matter the consequences. We try to
upend society to better fit the principles we
believe in even if those principles do not
fit the values of others.
And then we insight conflict if our principles
are not met. We will plow through anything
that gets in our way just to prove our point.
I have always believed that it is our education
that sets us apart from the rest, allows us to see
clearly through broken history how best to not
react to a particular situation. But when we have
religions and governments banning certain types
of learning, we begin to fail. We again lean
toward old doctrines that are allowed rather that
understandings that are true.
The one question I have asked myself when faced
with any trial is, 'Does this decision harm anyone
around me?' If it does, I move on to something else,
a better answer to the questions I face. If at any point
my decision disrupts the healthy freedoms of another,
I take another looks until my question is resolved.
One of the biggest problems we have in this life is
the lack of sympathy. No one seems to want to look
at life in any other format than their own. They simply
can not relate. It is that relation to one another that
keeps us whole.
(I could play my music loudly and get enjoyment for
myself, but how will that impact the people around me
that may not like the type of music I enjoy?)
(I could let my children out to scream around the
neighborhood, effectively giving me free, quiet time,
but how would that impact my neighbors?)
We are all on a path to personal realization,
and not everyone is at the same place. So
when we take another look at the people around
us, we have to look at their situations, and the
impact our decisions make on their lives.
Or we could just sit here spinning our tires,
hoping to somehow get a little traction.
Saturday, November 14, 2015
One act of Reason, and We can All move away from Hate.
Any act committed in the name of a higher power
is done outside of the intended intention,
and does more harm than good.
Unless your thoughts are directed to the benefit
of all mankind, regulated to prevent further speculation
under the direction of a mute god, and with heart aimed
at the furthermost acceleration of the species,
you will doom us all with your own ignorance rather than
what you believe your particular deity demands.
It is with us that the world progresses. It is of us that our
brothers and sisters from all nations and creeds are able
to become prosperous. It is through single acts of reason
that we are able to combine our efforts and enact true,
positive change that does not allow death in the streets,
hunger in our neighborhoods, pain in our schools, and
hate in our countries.
It is by not allowing for foolish prophecy, or broad
speculation that we continue forward as a single people
with good intent. We must move away from doctrine
and focus on the truths of the time. We must put away
our tomes unless it is tombs we wish to construct for
the future.
Lay down your bibles and pick up the tools that we need
to build a better world. It is for your children and their
children and their children. It is for the creed of humanity
that we must act now.
Every individual moving forward for the momentum of all.
Thursday, November 12, 2015
the hardest heartbreak around (4:44 AM)
there's that one song
she sings
when everything seems
so far away
and today
resembles a dream
in the way
she closes her eyes
this time
it's forever
ah
she shops around for
heartstrings
and brings
the candles down from
the cupboard
so hard
and sometimes life
reminds her of
death
but not always
not always forever
ah
so many people on the streets
she meets
a few
and maybe you're there too
on the wind swept streets
one of the ones she meets
one of the songs she sings
hums to herself
as the sun drips
across the sky
tonight
it's forever
ah
she sings
when everything seems
so far away
and today
resembles a dream
in the way
she closes her eyes
this time
it's forever
ah
she shops around for
heartstrings
and brings
the candles down from
the cupboard
so hard
and sometimes life
reminds her of
death
but not always
not always forever
ah
so many people on the streets
she meets
a few
and maybe you're there too
on the wind swept streets
one of the ones she meets
one of the songs she sings
hums to herself
as the sun drips
across the sky
tonight
it's forever
ah
Wednesday, November 11, 2015
the next great war
the great Cock fight
begins-
one country shoots off
a missile
to show what
it can do.
another country
makes its move
and the outcome is
just as impressive.
big men in sealed rooms
making decisions
that kill thousands,
hundreds of thousands,
entire civilizations
just to impress another leader
with just as much firepower.
it starts as a game,
flexing the muscles,
and ends in an all out war.
and it is all at the cost
of innocent lives
that don't have a particular beef
with anyone from another nation.
there's a little boy somewhere
that has lost his father, his brother, his mom
to a war created by mighty men
with unrealistic expectations
of what their tiny Cocks can do.
begins-
one country shoots off
a missile
to show what
it can do.
another country
makes its move
and the outcome is
just as impressive.
big men in sealed rooms
making decisions
that kill thousands,
hundreds of thousands,
entire civilizations
just to impress another leader
with just as much firepower.
it starts as a game,
flexing the muscles,
and ends in an all out war.
and it is all at the cost
of innocent lives
that don't have a particular beef
with anyone from another nation.
there's a little boy somewhere
that has lost his father, his brother, his mom
to a war created by mighty men
with unrealistic expectations
of what their tiny Cocks can do.
Monday, November 9, 2015
conflict
the network hums
along lit screens,
compounding the problem
of illusory dreams.
a fascination of bigotry
and fear of the unknown-
a commonwealth of the paltry-
a trap through images shown.
the lies are built upon
tiny truths and fear-
all for an illusion
of needed security.
we are guided toward
our doom
like birds flying
into the sun
so bright and tempting,
the light traps us
in the flame of our
infinite desire.
we are snuffed out
through the anxious moments
waiting for our turn
in the streams of blood
that came before us.
we ready ourselves
for turbulent times,
as if expected to set
the world in motion,
one meandering mind at a time,
hoping for a quick end
before the pain begins.
it is a catastrophe
for the moment.
bloodshed of the day.
... and we expect it all
to come crashing down like
it has done since the dawn
of civilization.
we need the mayhem,
the disorder,
the final painful purge
to make the suffering
seem just.
and that is why we strive for
a bigger, better bomb
to blow us all away.
along lit screens,
compounding the problem
of illusory dreams.
a fascination of bigotry
and fear of the unknown-
a commonwealth of the paltry-
a trap through images shown.
the lies are built upon
tiny truths and fear-
all for an illusion
of needed security.
we are guided toward
our doom
like birds flying
into the sun
so bright and tempting,
the light traps us
in the flame of our
infinite desire.
we are snuffed out
through the anxious moments
waiting for our turn
in the streams of blood
that came before us.
we ready ourselves
for turbulent times,
as if expected to set
the world in motion,
one meandering mind at a time,
hoping for a quick end
before the pain begins.
it is a catastrophe
for the moment.
bloodshed of the day.
... and we expect it all
to come crashing down like
it has done since the dawn
of civilization.
we need the mayhem,
the disorder,
the final painful purge
to make the suffering
seem just.
and that is why we strive for
a bigger, better bomb
to blow us all away.
Monday, November 2, 2015
Hearts that Beat
We lead by heart,
through character,
despite pain.
We mend those hearts,
and deliver
through stained
memory.
It is not enough
to help those in need,
but we must also
guide.
We must show
the path through
screaming hearts
so when the tide recedes,
there is something left
of what we once were.
We must teach
broken hearts
to mend.
We must show
compassion,
and do away with
judgment.
We must be
the bandage
for the broken,
the cure
for the sick,
the laughter
behind
crying eyes.
For in strength
there is always
weakness.
And in weakness
there is always
strength.
through character,
despite pain.
We mend those hearts,
and deliver
through stained
memory.
It is not enough
to help those in need,
but we must also
guide.
We must show
the path through
screaming hearts
so when the tide recedes,
there is something left
of what we once were.
We must teach
broken hearts
to mend.
We must show
compassion,
and do away with
judgment.
We must be
the bandage
for the broken,
the cure
for the sick,
the laughter
behind
crying eyes.
For in strength
there is always
weakness.
And in weakness
there is always
strength.
some way we wander
there is a long road
before you
and it doesn't care
who treads upon it
it winds through the valleys
and mountains,
across rivers that play at the banks
and cross the sure path
before you
up hills and through meadows,
the trail thickens
before becoming
sparse
and it does not mind
those who would trek it's surface
it will take you through
the days and the nights,
in grace, in trying delight,
and still,
it does not mind those who may
make the journey
but it will not take
the first step
for you
it will show no caution
for those whose only trial
is to begin
but it will be there always
for those that take the first step
before you
and it doesn't care
who treads upon it
it winds through the valleys
and mountains,
across rivers that play at the banks
and cross the sure path
before you
up hills and through meadows,
the trail thickens
before becoming
sparse
and it does not mind
those who would trek it's surface
it will take you through
the days and the nights,
in grace, in trying delight,
and still,
it does not mind those who may
make the journey
but it will not take
the first step
for you
it will show no caution
for those whose only trial
is to begin
but it will be there always
for those that take the first step
Sunday, October 25, 2015
wicked ways remembered
i shouldn't have
lit the candles ...
read the words ...
spoke the names.
offerings burned,
ashes spread,
chants recited.
graves unearthed,
possessions rendered.
the dead beckoned.
the hurt remembered.
blood spilled,
cup filled.
ghastly words spoken.
ancient tongues recited.
candles snuffed.
creatures bent and broken.
bold dreams awakened.
monsters by nightmares tell.
a particular gift,
a personal hell.
screaming wicked lies
to the moonlit cliffs-
iron rich,
the strangest gift.
where the bones lay strewn
by autumn moon
where
death
remains
awakened.
and all i can think of is you.
lit the candles ...
read the words ...
spoke the names.
offerings burned,
ashes spread,
chants recited.
graves unearthed,
possessions rendered.
the dead beckoned.
the hurt remembered.
blood spilled,
cup filled.
ghastly words spoken.
ancient tongues recited.
candles snuffed.
creatures bent and broken.
bold dreams awakened.
monsters by nightmares tell.
a particular gift,
a personal hell.
screaming wicked lies
to the moonlit cliffs-
iron rich,
the strangest gift.
where the bones lay strewn
by autumn moon
where
death
remains
awakened.
and all i can think of is you.
Saturday, October 24, 2015
glimpse
sometimes there are whispers
in the dark
so i leave a light on in the kitchen.
sometimes things fall
in the night
and i never find out what it was.
a cloudy shape, a misty void
at the foot of the bed.
a glimpse of a face in the mirror
from over my shoulder
and down the hallway.
the shape of a person
peaking around the corner
for a split second.
and it is gone so quick
that it is as if it was never there.
a feeling of cold pressure
on my back
when i'm alone at my desk.
a whiff of perfume,
the very scent you wore.
other times
there are nothing
but
memories.
other times
there is nothing
but
cold.
if you ever loved me
you would go away.
in the dark
so i leave a light on in the kitchen.
sometimes things fall
in the night
and i never find out what it was.
a cloudy shape, a misty void
at the foot of the bed.
a glimpse of a face in the mirror
from over my shoulder
and down the hallway.
the shape of a person
peaking around the corner
for a split second.
and it is gone so quick
that it is as if it was never there.
a feeling of cold pressure
on my back
when i'm alone at my desk.
a whiff of perfume,
the very scent you wore.
other times
there are nothing
but
memories.
other times
there is nothing
but
cold.
if you ever loved me
you would go away.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Mass Shooting
If you are a young male
and you are thinking of
getting a gun
to go shoot the shit
out of a bunch of people,
I get it:
the world is a terrible place, and
it has caused you a lot of pain.
But remember this:
the people you are thinking of killing
are not responsible for your pain. Even if
they were, the pain you are trying to repay them
with is permanent. Your pain is not. You have the ability
to grow beyond your pain. You can recover. But the harm you
intend will never go away.
Life throws you many choices; some good, some bad.
It is up to you to make the right decision at the right time.
Those decisions reflect integrity, compassion, and mercy.
You see, that is what separates men from boys. Just
because you think you are grown, it doesn't mean you actually are.
Because a man doesn't kill out of grief, he grows because of it.
and you are thinking of
getting a gun
to go shoot the shit
out of a bunch of people,
I get it:
the world is a terrible place, and
it has caused you a lot of pain.
But remember this:
the people you are thinking of killing
are not responsible for your pain. Even if
they were, the pain you are trying to repay them
with is permanent. Your pain is not. You have the ability
to grow beyond your pain. You can recover. But the harm you
intend will never go away.
Life throws you many choices; some good, some bad.
It is up to you to make the right decision at the right time.
Those decisions reflect integrity, compassion, and mercy.
You see, that is what separates men from boys. Just
because you think you are grown, it doesn't mean you actually are.
Because a man doesn't kill out of grief, he grows because of it.
Sunday, October 11, 2015
Sheep for the Shepard
Buy that new thing
because you really really want it.
Buy that new thing
because they tell you that you need it.
Buy that new thing
because everyone else already has it.
Buy that new thing
because in a couple of years it will be out of date
and you will need another new thing to replace it.
But maybe you should
look at that new thing to see what it does,
and wonder what the hell you would ever do with it.
Maybe you should imagine
all the factory workers in some distant country
assembling that new thing while making wages
that wouldn't buy you a cup of coffee at the local gas station.
Technological gadgets are the upper class poor version
of the liquor store for the lower class poor. "Have this new shiny thing,
it will make your lack of Health Care, Retirement, and Mortgage
seem less dismal."
"Take these pills, and when we decide you've had enough,
we will take them away
so you get a nice, new addiction to Heroin."
"You can sell your ass under the freeway overpass for
a few bucks so you can make another score."
"Have this new phone for a couple weeks worth of pay
so you can download porn because your wife isn't putting out
because she has an addiction to a pharmaceutical that should
never have made it to market in the first place, but we own your government,
and they will do whatever we tell them to keep the money rolling in."
"Forget about the homeless. They are weak and pointless. Never mind that
they have a mental illness and there is nowhere to put them. Listen to us
when we say they are lazy and dirty and only want your hard earned money
to buy more drugs, the very same drugs you are addicted to right now,
but they want that shit for free."
"Never mind the theft of Bankers, or the children killed by the Warmongers.
Don't fuss over the Environment. We will give you pretty junk to play with.
We will give you Racism, Gun Control, and Abortion to cleverly divert your
attention. Don't forget about Addiction. Never forget about Addiction. This is
the new frontier, and we own your ass."
"Now here's a mentally ill Politician to tell you all about what you need
in a way that best fits the insanity we're hoping to infect you with. Get off
your ass and go buy that new fucking phone like a good little slave. Go
ahead. What are you waiting for?"
because you really really want it.
Buy that new thing
because they tell you that you need it.
Buy that new thing
because everyone else already has it.
Buy that new thing
because in a couple of years it will be out of date
and you will need another new thing to replace it.
But maybe you should
look at that new thing to see what it does,
and wonder what the hell you would ever do with it.
Maybe you should imagine
all the factory workers in some distant country
assembling that new thing while making wages
that wouldn't buy you a cup of coffee at the local gas station.
Technological gadgets are the upper class poor version
of the liquor store for the lower class poor. "Have this new shiny thing,
it will make your lack of Health Care, Retirement, and Mortgage
seem less dismal."
"Take these pills, and when we decide you've had enough,
we will take them away
so you get a nice, new addiction to Heroin."
"You can sell your ass under the freeway overpass for
a few bucks so you can make another score."
"Have this new phone for a couple weeks worth of pay
so you can download porn because your wife isn't putting out
because she has an addiction to a pharmaceutical that should
never have made it to market in the first place, but we own your government,
and they will do whatever we tell them to keep the money rolling in."
"Forget about the homeless. They are weak and pointless. Never mind that
they have a mental illness and there is nowhere to put them. Listen to us
when we say they are lazy and dirty and only want your hard earned money
to buy more drugs, the very same drugs you are addicted to right now,
but they want that shit for free."
"Never mind the theft of Bankers, or the children killed by the Warmongers.
Don't fuss over the Environment. We will give you pretty junk to play with.
We will give you Racism, Gun Control, and Abortion to cleverly divert your
attention. Don't forget about Addiction. Never forget about Addiction. This is
the new frontier, and we own your ass."
"Now here's a mentally ill Politician to tell you all about what you need
in a way that best fits the insanity we're hoping to infect you with. Get off
your ass and go buy that new fucking phone like a good little slave. Go
ahead. What are you waiting for?"
Friday, October 9, 2015
waxing profane
The blue eyes,
the gentle smile.
To kill.
To maim.
The rolling tongue,
the loose lips.
To break.
To urge.
The hands,
so soft,
turning the knife.
Is sweet.
So sweet.
The hips,
they move,
they move away.
So bitter.
Nothing more.
the gentle smile.
To kill.
To maim.
The rolling tongue,
the loose lips.
To break.
To urge.
The hands,
so soft,
turning the knife.
Is sweet.
So sweet.
The hips,
they move,
they move away.
So bitter.
Nothing more.
Monday, October 5, 2015
hold back the cries
the boy screams
in his sleep
to soft melodies
of infancy
floating
static
in their ascent
to the dewdrop sky
bewildered
and
wild
they play at the breeze
like fingers reaching
for lips,
pink and pleading
the boy screams softly
into the night
where dreams
are too sullen to be
awakened
shift beneath the sheets-
cool and damp
with the sweat of sweet
nightmares pleading
how the air touches the skin
moist with memory
dampening the wandering mind
so too loses the night
creeping in bold spirals
up and out
into streets built within
cities bounding restless
in twilight moaning
teaming,
closed in,
surrounded-
he holds his breath
and waits for a release
that never comes
until it is above,
beyond the
shameful, sinful
streets
a breath that never comes
a dream that never aspires
dawn comes teaming
at the tip of drawn lips
where sin is devoured whole
in his sleep
to soft melodies
of infancy
floating
static
in their ascent
to the dewdrop sky
bewildered
and
wild
they play at the breeze
like fingers reaching
for lips,
pink and pleading
the boy screams softly
into the night
where dreams
are too sullen to be
awakened
shift beneath the sheets-
cool and damp
with the sweat of sweet
nightmares pleading
how the air touches the skin
moist with memory
dampening the wandering mind
so too loses the night
creeping in bold spirals
up and out
into streets built within
cities bounding restless
in twilight moaning
teaming,
closed in,
surrounded-
he holds his breath
and waits for a release
that never comes
until it is above,
beyond the
shameful, sinful
streets
a breath that never comes
a dream that never aspires
dawn comes teaming
at the tip of drawn lips
where sin is devoured whole
Sunday, October 4, 2015
the box of nails from the top shelf
the naked haunting city
licks up the night
cool winds play
in fearless flight
the beast awaits it turn
there is peace in the
chaos of the night
where bodies churn
and the reckless children
scream at dawn's breathless
highway folding
mark the tombs by gas lamp,
each date a birth by its
own right
and so goes reckless abandon
by the chaos of the night
our hidden prayers for those
who will not wake
our empty stares
blinded by sight
for the truth we cannot shake
even in the reckless
chaos of the night
peering into the sun
our grazing eyes
deplore
into flames we succumb
until our frail bodies
are no more
reach up to the city lights
and the tired whores
illuminated
and the ragged vagrants
consummated
can you hear them speaking
your name
in time with the grinding beats
of the skin drums
calling hollowed in your name
where the reckless insane
chant melody
in the pouring rain?
wake up and receive
penance
for
pleasure
tear the coffins from their frames
call on me and i will speak
your name
stand up and lick the mourning grief
before we're delivered
from such relief
licks up the night
cool winds play
in fearless flight
the beast awaits it turn
there is peace in the
chaos of the night
where bodies churn
and the reckless children
scream at dawn's breathless
highway folding
mark the tombs by gas lamp,
each date a birth by its
own right
and so goes reckless abandon
by the chaos of the night
our hidden prayers for those
who will not wake
our empty stares
blinded by sight
for the truth we cannot shake
even in the reckless
chaos of the night
peering into the sun
our grazing eyes
deplore
into flames we succumb
until our frail bodies
are no more
reach up to the city lights
and the tired whores
illuminated
and the ragged vagrants
consummated
can you hear them speaking
your name
in time with the grinding beats
of the skin drums
calling hollowed in your name
where the reckless insane
chant melody
in the pouring rain?
wake up and receive
penance
for
pleasure
tear the coffins from their frames
call on me and i will speak
your name
stand up and lick the mourning grief
before we're delivered
from such relief
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
hollowed we suffer
a blackened pyre
under the setting sun
where no light touches
the dark undone
we could hold hands
and wait out the plight
forever gazing
into a starless night
we could hold our breath
until the sky creeps clear
and wait for our deaths
as the shadows draw near
or we could drown in the sea
and smile under waves
as the urchins come near
to dig us our graves
so embrace me now
my princess of time
for the troubles in tow
to relieve us our minds
the way the knife sheds the skin
and the blade flays the flesh
our troubles have yet to begin
to put our suffering to rest
follow me now
to the end of the day
into the empty depths
that guide us our way
and we can laugh once more
over the troubles endured
and give us our grace
when our deaths are ensured
under the setting sun
where no light touches
the dark undone
we could hold hands
and wait out the plight
forever gazing
into a starless night
we could hold our breath
until the sky creeps clear
and wait for our deaths
as the shadows draw near
or we could drown in the sea
and smile under waves
as the urchins come near
to dig us our graves
so embrace me now
my princess of time
for the troubles in tow
to relieve us our minds
the way the knife sheds the skin
and the blade flays the flesh
our troubles have yet to begin
to put our suffering to rest
follow me now
to the end of the day
into the empty depths
that guide us our way
and we can laugh once more
over the troubles endured
and give us our grace
when our deaths are ensured
Thursday, September 17, 2015
seashore
All of what the sea churns
forth and the breakers
bring turning with the
waves
and the trying
momentum
laps up the shore
surging under the
big blue sky_
The heavens
know
with what reckless abandon
we urge the surf
to expose ourselves
of the salt_
And the crime is never
knowing the purpose
of the tides_
forth and the breakers
bring turning with the
waves
and the trying
momentum
laps up the shore
surging under the
big blue sky_
The heavens
know
with what reckless abandon
we urge the surf
to expose ourselves
of the salt_
And the crime is never
knowing the purpose
of the tides_
Sunday, September 13, 2015
the meaning
the most bizarre thing about life
is living it.
all the mysteries unfold in countless
riddles that twist the tongue.
the baggage, the expense,
the opinionated truths,
twisted this way and that
in a confusing mass
of individual realities,
binding up the secrets,
caught at the tip of your tongue.
the lessons come and go,
new pieces to the puzzle
that never seems to end.
so many people playing make believe,
trying to pretend that there is a single way.
how many like to believe that there is
someone out there with all the answers
to make our lives come together
in the way we have always hoped
it would?
so many judgments passed.
so many wrong answers.
so many troubled minds
trying to account for
what is sane,
for what is right,
for what is true.
there is earth beneath our feet.
there is wind at our skin.
there is water to nourish.
and
there is fire to burn it all away.
we have the trees,
the mountains,
the streams,
the lakes,
the creatures.
but nothing exists
unless there is something there
to experience it.
and that is the most bizarre thing
about life.
is living it.
all the mysteries unfold in countless
riddles that twist the tongue.
the baggage, the expense,
the opinionated truths,
twisted this way and that
in a confusing mass
of individual realities,
binding up the secrets,
caught at the tip of your tongue.
the lessons come and go,
new pieces to the puzzle
that never seems to end.
so many people playing make believe,
trying to pretend that there is a single way.
how many like to believe that there is
someone out there with all the answers
to make our lives come together
in the way we have always hoped
it would?
so many judgments passed.
so many wrong answers.
so many troubled minds
trying to account for
what is sane,
for what is right,
for what is true.
there is earth beneath our feet.
there is wind at our skin.
there is water to nourish.
and
there is fire to burn it all away.
we have the trees,
the mountains,
the streams,
the lakes,
the creatures.
but nothing exists
unless there is something there
to experience it.
and that is the most bizarre thing
about life.
Saturday, September 12, 2015
we are the nightmare
when we've complicated
the past,
and the future becomes
a mass of ripe color,
dripping with what has
already been done
to death,
and there is no rest,
no meaning,
or make
to the vibrancy
of life,
and the mistakes
are as golden
as the truths
we stand idle upon,
the end will
be as welcomed
as the flames
that swept us away
from our original cause.
the meaning
becomes as lost
as the truths we sought
like ghosts
drifting
in dense fog,
fluttering about
on our route
through the tender moments
of life gone awry,
and the sky is nothing more
than a prison
wrought with reason
and the treason
of our luscious love
broken in the twilight hours
as we devour
the subtle lies
that tie us to the fabric
of consciousness
where righteousness
was but a dream of a madman
hopped up on the cancers
of the fallen.
so solemn and forlorn
when we're born
unto this
in the mist of desire
only to retire to the deep,
fluttering falsehood
from which we're torn.
cry against
the big city lights,
craving the night
where the creatures fight
and fuss
over the loss of trust,
and we're the very demons
that scare the hell out of us.
the past,
and the future becomes
a mass of ripe color,
dripping with what has
already been done
to death,
and there is no rest,
no meaning,
or make
to the vibrancy
of life,
and the mistakes
are as golden
as the truths
we stand idle upon,
the end will
be as welcomed
as the flames
that swept us away
from our original cause.
the meaning
becomes as lost
as the truths we sought
like ghosts
drifting
in dense fog,
fluttering about
on our route
through the tender moments
of life gone awry,
and the sky is nothing more
than a prison
wrought with reason
and the treason
of our luscious love
broken in the twilight hours
as we devour
the subtle lies
that tie us to the fabric
of consciousness
where righteousness
was but a dream of a madman
hopped up on the cancers
of the fallen.
so solemn and forlorn
when we're born
unto this
in the mist of desire
only to retire to the deep,
fluttering falsehood
from which we're torn.
cry against
the big city lights,
craving the night
where the creatures fight
and fuss
over the loss of trust,
and we're the very demons
that scare the hell out of us.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
your monetary measure
i see you there.
i know all about you, man.
i know you don't care,
and in that lies the plan.
you see us as money,
a means to an end:
little people
with small minds,
outside of a culture
you try to defend.
once our usefulness
has expired,
so do we-
nothing more than numbers
on a piece of paper
to make your bank accounts thicker.
and our shallow lives
must seem so grave
to people of your order
like pissing down the grate
and into the sewer.
but you know what, brother?
we're better than you
in so many ways.
we don't measure our lives
by the passing of days
and the percentage of interest rates.
we live and breathe,
love and laugh,
and we're in possession
of the kind of soul
you will never have.
i know all about you, man.
i know you don't care,
and in that lies the plan.
you see us as money,
a means to an end:
little people
with small minds,
outside of a culture
you try to defend.
once our usefulness
has expired,
so do we-
nothing more than numbers
on a piece of paper
to make your bank accounts thicker.
and our shallow lives
must seem so grave
to people of your order
like pissing down the grate
and into the sewer.
but you know what, brother?
we're better than you
in so many ways.
we don't measure our lives
by the passing of days
and the percentage of interest rates.
we live and breathe,
love and laugh,
and we're in possession
of the kind of soul
you will never have.
Saturday, September 5, 2015
what does your heart say?
under the moon
and
stars
we are
all
searching
for the same thing
we want
for
love
and
compassion,
a sense of respect
and a common
understanding
we want to accomplish
to thrive
to live in the way
that best suits us
without undue
hate and bigotry
without misery and ill judgment
we want to be wanted
and we want it
without ulterior motive
in this
we are one species
differing only
in complexion
and culture
so when you here buzz words
like
'immigrant'
'homosexual'
'vagrant'
'illegal'
'poor'
'mentally ill'
they are simple words
meant to divide
to keep us
from realizing
that we are truly One
with the heartbeat of the
Cosmos
drifting casually
while trying to find meaning
in this
we are all just a single
heartbeat away
from the amazing
listen
to
the
beat
of
your
heart
and
stars
we are
all
searching
for the same thing
we want
for
love
and
compassion,
a sense of respect
and a common
understanding
we want to accomplish
to thrive
to live in the way
that best suits us
without undue
hate and bigotry
without misery and ill judgment
we want to be wanted
and we want it
without ulterior motive
in this
we are one species
differing only
in complexion
and culture
so when you here buzz words
like
'immigrant'
'homosexual'
'vagrant'
'illegal'
'poor'
'mentally ill'
they are simple words
meant to divide
to keep us
from realizing
that we are truly One
with the heartbeat of the
Cosmos
drifting casually
while trying to find meaning
in this
we are all just a single
heartbeat away
from the amazing
listen
to
the
beat
of
your
heart
Thursday, September 3, 2015
we witness for time
the light always
drowns
in the darkness
and the darkness
only gives way
for the light
so is the day
so is the night
single feathers
fall from flight
and the wing
always flees
from sight
a child's laugh
becomes
a cackle
in time
and an old man's
eyes
forget to shine
the terrible witness
wakes at dawn
and soon
the innocence
has all but gone
breathe a sigh
for the blanket
of time
concedes
breathe a little sigh
for those
set free
drowns
in the darkness
and the darkness
only gives way
for the light
so is the day
so is the night
single feathers
fall from flight
and the wing
always flees
from sight
a child's laugh
becomes
a cackle
in time
and an old man's
eyes
forget to shine
the terrible witness
wakes at dawn
and soon
the innocence
has all but gone
breathe a sigh
for the blanket
of time
concedes
breathe a little sigh
for those
set free
Saturday, August 22, 2015
for what ails you
freedom is
walking away from your
cell phone, walking away
from technology,
but remembering where you left it
in case you need to make a call.
being awake
isn't about waking up
as much as it is about
'waking in',
realizing that the sleep you have
encountered
over the years is nothing more
than a self induced
hypnosis.
we lie to ourselves about
security,
about being safe from
the fears that haunt us
from youth.
the lessons we learn
as we grow
are nothing more than
roadblocks
constructed by the subconscious mind
to keep us safe from the very safety
we crave.
new walls are built as we grow,
dividing lines
that tell us
to buy one product over another,
to vote for one evil
over another,
to condition ourselves
in order to maintain a level
of imagined security
so we don't fall off the cliff
of life into some unknown
drama
where we may lose ourselves.
it's hard to forget
where you have been,
but it's easy to lose sight of
who you are.
being natural isn't as
concerned with the new diet craze
as much as it is concerned
with the nature of being natural.
it's a type of placebo we embrace,
not unlike the placebo we ingest
that beckons us to
make new friends,
to be a part of the hip crowd,
to consume the newest gadgets
to make our lives
brighter,
more resilient,
and sustainable.
the truth is
that nothing happens outside of
self.
it all begins from within.
embracing yourself
is the same as treating the disease.
society is a sickness,
and awareness is the cure.
walking away from your
cell phone, walking away
from technology,
but remembering where you left it
in case you need to make a call.
being awake
isn't about waking up
as much as it is about
'waking in',
realizing that the sleep you have
encountered
over the years is nothing more
than a self induced
hypnosis.
we lie to ourselves about
security,
about being safe from
the fears that haunt us
from youth.
the lessons we learn
as we grow
are nothing more than
roadblocks
constructed by the subconscious mind
to keep us safe from the very safety
we crave.
new walls are built as we grow,
dividing lines
that tell us
to buy one product over another,
to vote for one evil
over another,
to condition ourselves
in order to maintain a level
of imagined security
so we don't fall off the cliff
of life into some unknown
drama
where we may lose ourselves.
it's hard to forget
where you have been,
but it's easy to lose sight of
who you are.
being natural isn't as
concerned with the new diet craze
as much as it is concerned
with the nature of being natural.
it's a type of placebo we embrace,
not unlike the placebo we ingest
that beckons us to
make new friends,
to be a part of the hip crowd,
to consume the newest gadgets
to make our lives
brighter,
more resilient,
and sustainable.
the truth is
that nothing happens outside of
self.
it all begins from within.
embracing yourself
is the same as treating the disease.
society is a sickness,
and awareness is the cure.
Thursday, August 20, 2015
back door boogeyman
the light
by the back door
is on
so when the monsters come
we'll all be the wiser.
we'll see them shamble, stumble, grumble
to the porch
with wicked smiles
and deformed limbs
scream, scream, screaming,
"where, o! where is all the meat?"
scream, scream, screaming,
"what's a monster like me
when there's nothing left to eat?"
by the back door
is on
so when the monsters come
we'll all be the wiser.
we'll see them shamble, stumble, grumble
to the porch
with wicked smiles
and deformed limbs
scream, scream, screaming,
"where, o! where is all the meat?"
scream, scream, screaming,
"what's a monster like me
when there's nothing left to eat?"
clear intent
suddenly
i'm sick
i'm groaning
again
i'm full of filth;
endearing sin
and i'm guilty
just like you
how long?
i'm in love
with it all;
vengeful and
trembling
at my heart,
i suffocate,
deteriorate
a little more,
enduring
what's wrong?
are you there too?
with nothing left
but the blood they claimed
was blue
as it surged through
constricted veins,
searching for something close
to truth,
but only found the pain
in the cracks
left behind
i hope you find
something true,
something beyond the dreary dirt
that clings to the skin
as if it's something that rattles within
the crust of your heart-
a terrible art
made of ribbons
composed from the insides
of the heathens
they claim us to be
and i hope you'll see
it's nothing more than illusions
etched in time
to a rhyme
that can never be spoken
broken,
i heal
as long as i can feel
the breaking strands of a peace that never was
above a makeshift representation of you,
but i think you already knew
my intentions were pure.
i'm sick
i'm groaning
again
i'm full of filth;
endearing sin
and i'm guilty
just like you
how long?
i'm in love
with it all;
vengeful and
trembling
at my heart,
i suffocate,
deteriorate
a little more,
enduring
what's wrong?
are you there too?
with nothing left
but the blood they claimed
was blue
as it surged through
constricted veins,
searching for something close
to truth,
but only found the pain
in the cracks
left behind
i hope you find
something true,
something beyond the dreary dirt
that clings to the skin
as if it's something that rattles within
the crust of your heart-
a terrible art
made of ribbons
composed from the insides
of the heathens
they claim us to be
and i hope you'll see
it's nothing more than illusions
etched in time
to a rhyme
that can never be spoken
broken,
i heal
as long as i can feel
the breaking strands of a peace that never was
above a makeshift representation of you,
but i think you already knew
my intentions were pure.
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
if, and, or where
no magic here
in this love-lost
kingdom
of perpetual
dust
lingering upon the air
like flakes of
spent skin
from the dead
and dying
womb
of our mother
blown from
consciousness
in a strike
of forbidden war
where the land
of our father's
blame the children
for their woes
based on ill gotten
faith
where they rape;
for that is the law.
no truth here in
the land of
luscious lies
where no friends
no foes
belong
begotten
. . . brave
beguiled infants
in a race to the
end
pretend the
false prophets
who speak of magnificent
gods
destroying,
toying
with the lives of the lost
and the cost
which it affords
is all but your
soul
impostors poll the masses
for opinion and
perception
as we all grow further
apart.
without a heart,
they draw us dumb
to the institution,
the deprivation,
the consumption
of life
and strife
built upon leaning towers,
destined to fall.
no magic here
but the flailing
tongues
that tell no truths.
in this love-lost
kingdom
of perpetual
dust
lingering upon the air
like flakes of
spent skin
from the dead
and dying
womb
of our mother
blown from
consciousness
in a strike
of forbidden war
where the land
of our father's
blame the children
for their woes
based on ill gotten
faith
where they rape;
for that is the law.
no truth here in
the land of
luscious lies
where no friends
no foes
belong
begotten
. . . brave
beguiled infants
in a race to the
end
pretend the
false prophets
who speak of magnificent
gods
destroying,
toying
with the lives of the lost
and the cost
which it affords
is all but your
soul
impostors poll the masses
for opinion and
perception
as we all grow further
apart.
without a heart,
they draw us dumb
to the institution,
the deprivation,
the consumption
of life
and strife
built upon leaning towers,
destined to fall.
no magic here
but the flailing
tongues
that tell no truths.
Sunday, August 2, 2015
Lies and Money
There are those
that treat life
like an elaborate
joke.
They lie about
anything that might
get them attention.
Fake causes
are made up
and strung along
just for the sake
of attention.
They stand behind
the most
outlandish arguments
hoping to strike
a cord with others
in order to string
them along
through the fallout
of their words.
But lies lead to more
lies that lie in the face of
lying
while throwing in
small portions
of truth in order
to manipulate the masses
with more lies.
When it comes down to it,
these people hardly believe
in the bullshit they're spreading
around. But it's like an infection;
it builds and grows out of
control.
The next thing you know,
all that is left is
misinformation
leading to other, bolder
lies with just enough
truth thrown in
for good measure
to make it seem like honesty
when it's honestly bullshit.
Entire systems are
built upon these types
of fabrications.
People are told
that
Planned Parenthood
is all about abortions
when it only accounts for
3% of their total services
by 10% of their total clientele.
There is medical screening
for STD's, contraceptives
to prevent unwanted pregnancies,
and cancer screenings.
Now this is just an example of
the type of information
that is 'modified'
by certain people
to sound worse
than it
actually is. It is also a hot button
topic so i have decided to
include it.
But the only thing we are told
about Planned Parenthood
is that they do these horrible things
to unborn babies. It's just not true.
Certain people
in the know
want to do away with
funding programs like
Planned Parenthood
because they believe
it enables the poor.
As if being poor
was a choice.
So to make their point
clear,
they use religion as a prime
target for their
bullshit campaign
rather than reflecting on
the potential reasons
behind poverty stricken
people needing abortions.
There are a fair amount of
health reasons behind
a woman's decision,
as well as
reasons including
rape, incest, and
plain old poverty.
So let's be honest,
shall we?
that treat life
like an elaborate
joke.
They lie about
anything that might
get them attention.
Fake causes
are made up
and strung along
just for the sake
of attention.
They stand behind
the most
outlandish arguments
hoping to strike
a cord with others
in order to string
them along
through the fallout
of their words.
But lies lead to more
lies that lie in the face of
lying
while throwing in
small portions
of truth in order
to manipulate the masses
with more lies.
When it comes down to it,
these people hardly believe
in the bullshit they're spreading
around. But it's like an infection;
it builds and grows out of
control.
The next thing you know,
all that is left is
misinformation
leading to other, bolder
lies with just enough
truth thrown in
for good measure
to make it seem like honesty
when it's honestly bullshit.
Entire systems are
built upon these types
of fabrications.
People are told
that
Planned Parenthood
is all about abortions
when it only accounts for
3% of their total services
by 10% of their total clientele.
There is medical screening
for STD's, contraceptives
to prevent unwanted pregnancies,
and cancer screenings.
Now this is just an example of
the type of information
that is 'modified'
by certain people
to sound worse
than it
actually is. It is also a hot button
topic so i have decided to
include it.
But the only thing we are told
about Planned Parenthood
is that they do these horrible things
to unborn babies. It's just not true.
Certain people
in the know
want to do away with
funding programs like
Planned Parenthood
because they believe
it enables the poor.
As if being poor
was a choice.
So to make their point
clear,
they use religion as a prime
target for their
bullshit campaign
rather than reflecting on
the potential reasons
behind poverty stricken
people needing abortions.
There are a fair amount of
health reasons behind
a woman's decision,
as well as
reasons including
rape, incest, and
plain old poverty.
So let's be honest,
shall we?
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
disturbing practices
we've been duped,
and it's not the
first time.
we have been led
into wars
and made to choose
a side.
but we're not
very good at picking.
every elected official
has been voted into office
by us.
we were given a couple of
candidates to choose from
and they're on the same side.
so the outcome
will always be the same.
in all reality,
our choices
are no choice at all.
we've been told it is
for National Security,
but really it's just to keep
the War Machine in tune,
well oiled,
and ready for potential combat.
we were given a lunatic
with a bowl cut
who mowed down
a Church group
and brandished a flag
that hasn't been in the news
since the Duke boys
had it painted on top of their
car in the early 80's.
suddenly, this flag is a problem.
as if it wasn't a problem
from the beginning.
as if it didn't show
a lack of sympathy,
and absolute disrespect
to the offspring
of those who were enslaved
by the 1% during Confederate times.
don't get me wrong,
the flag has its place.
perhaps in a museum,
or on the back of a 'good ol' boy's'
pickup truck.
still, we're being misled.
whether it's war,
or money,
or political corruption,
they'll keep us pointed
in the wrong direction
so they can keep up
the lies.
but i digress.
it's the same ol'
same ol'
and it doesn't seem to be
getting
any better.
some day, maybe,
we'll take pride in humanity
rather than race.
we'll look at war as something
that only barbarians partook.
we'll laugh at Capitalism
like we laugh at Fascism.
and we'll be happier for it.
and it's not the
first time.
we have been led
into wars
and made to choose
a side.
but we're not
very good at picking.
every elected official
has been voted into office
by us.
we were given a couple of
candidates to choose from
and they're on the same side.
so the outcome
will always be the same.
in all reality,
our choices
are no choice at all.
we've been told it is
for National Security,
but really it's just to keep
the War Machine in tune,
well oiled,
and ready for potential combat.
we were given a lunatic
with a bowl cut
who mowed down
a Church group
and brandished a flag
that hasn't been in the news
since the Duke boys
had it painted on top of their
car in the early 80's.
suddenly, this flag is a problem.
as if it wasn't a problem
from the beginning.
as if it didn't show
a lack of sympathy,
and absolute disrespect
to the offspring
of those who were enslaved
by the 1% during Confederate times.
don't get me wrong,
the flag has its place.
perhaps in a museum,
or on the back of a 'good ol' boy's'
pickup truck.
still, we're being misled.
whether it's war,
or money,
or political corruption,
they'll keep us pointed
in the wrong direction
so they can keep up
the lies.
but i digress.
it's the same ol'
same ol'
and it doesn't seem to be
getting
any better.
some day, maybe,
we'll take pride in humanity
rather than race.
we'll look at war as something
that only barbarians partook.
we'll laugh at Capitalism
like we laugh at Fascism.
and we'll be happier for it.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
September 23, 2015 the end, the goddamn END!
the World isn't going to
come tumbling in
upon itself
on September 23rd, 2015.
the Devil will not gain control
and ensure His reign.
magic Bunnies will not
fall from the sky.
shit will be the same
as shit has always been.
we will still be fussing
and fighting.
the rich will still continue to
take advantage of the poor.
the news will still be reported
by the same five media owned companies
who have pulled the wool
over our eyes for decades.
and then the fanatics will find
a new date to ponder over
the End of Times
so they can keep the donation buckets
overflowing.
they will keep homophobia going strong.
they will keep us at each others throats.
they will continue to rape the minds
of the youth to ensure depravity
for years to come.
but there will always be
a few of us
who break free from the bonds
and look out into the world
for better answers.
we will continue to question everything.
we will remain resolute
in our curiosity.
we will support those who
the fanatics cast aside
and form a unity
beyond the religiously sick outlook
we have been subject to
our entire lives.
maybe one day
we will be able to say
we lived through it.
through all of the hate and ignorance
we stood true.
we did not waiver.
we were resolute in our
time of repression.
we clenched our teeth
and hissed,
"NO!"
come tumbling in
upon itself
on September 23rd, 2015.
the Devil will not gain control
and ensure His reign.
magic Bunnies will not
fall from the sky.
shit will be the same
as shit has always been.
we will still be fussing
and fighting.
the rich will still continue to
take advantage of the poor.
the news will still be reported
by the same five media owned companies
who have pulled the wool
over our eyes for decades.
and then the fanatics will find
a new date to ponder over
the End of Times
so they can keep the donation buckets
overflowing.
they will keep homophobia going strong.
they will keep us at each others throats.
they will continue to rape the minds
of the youth to ensure depravity
for years to come.
but there will always be
a few of us
who break free from the bonds
and look out into the world
for better answers.
we will continue to question everything.
we will remain resolute
in our curiosity.
we will support those who
the fanatics cast aside
and form a unity
beyond the religiously sick outlook
we have been subject to
our entire lives.
maybe one day
we will be able to say
we lived through it.
through all of the hate and ignorance
we stood true.
we did not waiver.
we were resolute in our
time of repression.
we clenched our teeth
and hissed,
"NO!"
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
Thank You
the people in Russia
and Germany
and France and
the United states.
the people that take time
out of their day
to read my
poems,
my madness,
my compassion.
the people of the
United Kingdom,
Poland,
Ukraine,
Israel,
Canada,
and Spain
for taking a look
and sharing my words
with the ones you love.
we may be separated by oceans
and continents,
rivers and valleys,
but we are one people,
and we all dream-
we all maintain hope-
we all love to be loved.
and speaking of dreams,
thank you for being a part of mine.
and Germany
and France and
the United states.
the people that take time
out of their day
to read my
poems,
my madness,
my compassion.
the people of the
United Kingdom,
Poland,
Ukraine,
Israel,
Canada,
and Spain
for taking a look
and sharing my words
with the ones you love.
we may be separated by oceans
and continents,
rivers and valleys,
but we are one people,
and we all dream-
we all maintain hope-
we all love to be loved.
and speaking of dreams,
thank you for being a part of mine.
when the worry comes
you hold on.
you hold tightly
to the moment
and let the fear pass.
you don't dwell on
lunatics beheading
innocence,
or the ignorant
pointing fingers
at the LGBT community
for all of the world's woes.
you advert your gaze
from the lying eyes
of the upper class
collecting the money
that could feed your family.
you stay away from products
like Nestle who want to
take away your water
so they can control your thirst.
you do your best not to think
of people being murdered on a whim
by psychopaths
for no other reason than pain.
when the worry comes,
you vote out the ones
who call Social Security an
Entitlement as if
being entitled to work
your life away
is something that is no longer
rewarded.
you try to remain kind
in the typhoon of hate
and misinformation
that runs rampant
in our buzzword society.
you remain calm
when they talk of Heaven
as if what we're living in
can only be described as
some sort of Hell.
you lean on your friends
and you family
and support them
as best as you can
because life
sometimes
comes ripping through
and everyone needs
someone
to tend to the wounds.
you hold tightly
to the moment
and let the fear pass.
you don't dwell on
lunatics beheading
innocence,
or the ignorant
pointing fingers
at the LGBT community
for all of the world's woes.
you advert your gaze
from the lying eyes
of the upper class
collecting the money
that could feed your family.
you stay away from products
like Nestle who want to
take away your water
so they can control your thirst.
you do your best not to think
of people being murdered on a whim
by psychopaths
for no other reason than pain.
when the worry comes,
you vote out the ones
who call Social Security an
Entitlement as if
being entitled to work
your life away
is something that is no longer
rewarded.
you try to remain kind
in the typhoon of hate
and misinformation
that runs rampant
in our buzzword society.
you remain calm
when they talk of Heaven
as if what we're living in
can only be described as
some sort of Hell.
you lean on your friends
and you family
and support them
as best as you can
because life
sometimes
comes ripping through
and everyone needs
someone
to tend to the wounds.
Sunday, July 5, 2015
soft humming tongues
there is no
gift of the ages,
no promise of respite
in the flowing madness.
synchronicity is beyond
the ebb
between the here and now
just out of sight
and it is made of
when, where, and how.
there is no
soft angel voices
whispering mothers
names.
the down
down
down
darkness
of it all
pandering to
questioning gazes.
no sages
no saints
no devils
in bright red paint
laughing at the tears
of the poor pauper's fear.
and the rhythm magnetic
driving beats
of insanity
through the streets
linger and leer
but are too faint to hear.
so deaf ears play
on the falling
of day
into nights
so bright
they drive the
madness away.
gift of the ages,
no promise of respite
in the flowing madness.
synchronicity is beyond
the ebb
between the here and now
just out of sight
and it is made of
when, where, and how.
there is no
soft angel voices
whispering mothers
names.
the down
down
down
darkness
of it all
pandering to
questioning gazes.
no sages
no saints
no devils
in bright red paint
laughing at the tears
of the poor pauper's fear.
and the rhythm magnetic
driving beats
of insanity
through the streets
linger and leer
but are too faint to hear.
so deaf ears play
on the falling
of day
into nights
so bright
they drive the
madness away.
Saturday, July 4, 2015
promise nothing
one of the greatest
lies
in this glorious
Country
of ours
is that with hard work
you can be
wealthy and successful.
but what they fail
to tell you is that
most of the rich
were born into
the money they flaunt.
you see,
it is easy to maintain wealth
when you're
born into it.
it takes a special asshole
like Donald Trump
to file for bankruptcy
when he inherited
the beginning mass
of his fortune
from his daddy.
but they still peddle
the American Dream
in a way
that leads you to
believe
that you can be
financially aloof
just like the
'people'
you see on TV.
because if they
promise you everything
and deliver nothing,
at least they have
instilled
the grain of hope
you were looking for.
it is pretty rare
for someone to
start with nothing
and become wealthy.
when it happens
those people tend
to remember
where they came from.
they also have a tendency
to give back.
they happen to see
the problems in the world
and give as much as they can
to make it better.
but you'll never see
them on the television.
it's not hip enough
to mention.
we're only led to aspire
to the loft heights
of the entitled morons
that they show us.
you know,
the types without compassion
who are so far out
of touch that they
don't understand
that America was built
by immigrants,
the poor,
the hopeful,
the lied to.
lies
in this glorious
Country
of ours
is that with hard work
you can be
wealthy and successful.
but what they fail
to tell you is that
most of the rich
were born into
the money they flaunt.
you see,
it is easy to maintain wealth
when you're
born into it.
it takes a special asshole
like Donald Trump
to file for bankruptcy
when he inherited
the beginning mass
of his fortune
from his daddy.
but they still peddle
the American Dream
in a way
that leads you to
believe
that you can be
financially aloof
just like the
'people'
you see on TV.
because if they
promise you everything
and deliver nothing,
at least they have
instilled
the grain of hope
you were looking for.
it is pretty rare
for someone to
start with nothing
and become wealthy.
when it happens
those people tend
to remember
where they came from.
they also have a tendency
to give back.
they happen to see
the problems in the world
and give as much as they can
to make it better.
but you'll never see
them on the television.
it's not hip enough
to mention.
we're only led to aspire
to the loft heights
of the entitled morons
that they show us.
you know,
the types without compassion
who are so far out
of touch that they
don't understand
that America was built
by immigrants,
the poor,
the hopeful,
the lied to.
Friday, July 3, 2015
rule of thumb
there is a clear sense
of right and wrong.
some choose to ignore it,
but it is there.
it is the difference
between hurting and not hurting.
it is the mask we wear
when we choose
to keep ourselves guarded,
closing walls around us
to keep the monsters at bay.
but when we construct those obstacles,
we're merely caging the monster
that is us.
some see evil as
murder or rape,
molestation or deviation.
but it goes deeper than that.
it can also be called
'just doing business'
'little white lies'
'minding your own business'
'turning the other cheek'
'doing what you're told'
'not stirring the pot'
'blind faith' -
there comes a time
when it is necessary
to outgrow
your cage.
it begins with a question.
Who am I?
the only faith
you should ever need
is in yourself.
with that
everything else
falls into place,
expectations drain,
judgment abides,
trust is warranted.
it is in ourselves
that we begin to teach,
taking small steps,
and allowing
for change.
progress begins
with us,
inside of ourselves
before we can begin
to see progress
anywhere else.
be your own teacher.
of right and wrong.
some choose to ignore it,
but it is there.
it is the difference
between hurting and not hurting.
it is the mask we wear
when we choose
to keep ourselves guarded,
closing walls around us
to keep the monsters at bay.
but when we construct those obstacles,
we're merely caging the monster
that is us.
some see evil as
murder or rape,
molestation or deviation.
but it goes deeper than that.
it can also be called
'just doing business'
'little white lies'
'minding your own business'
'turning the other cheek'
'doing what you're told'
'not stirring the pot'
'blind faith' -
there comes a time
when it is necessary
to outgrow
your cage.
it begins with a question.
Who am I?
the only faith
you should ever need
is in yourself.
with that
everything else
falls into place,
expectations drain,
judgment abides,
trust is warranted.
it is in ourselves
that we begin to teach,
taking small steps,
and allowing
for change.
progress begins
with us,
inside of ourselves
before we can begin
to see progress
anywhere else.
be your own teacher.
Thursday, July 2, 2015
crazy love
the meaning of life
is love
and it's not as sappy
as it sounds.
it doesn't mean
that you have to
embrace assholes
for the sake
of embracing assholes.
simply put,
it means that we are all
closer than we think.
together, we are whole.
as one,
we become stronger.
there is unity in togetherness.
love doesn't mean
casual acceptance
of the guy
who cut you off
on the freeway,
almost causing you to crash.
it just means that
that guy has gone through
quite a bit of shit in his life
as well- he just doesn't get
the point that you have too.
so it is a matter of educating
one another on the finer points
of existence:
we come from the womb
to be placed in the earth-
the trick is what you learn
between those two points.
so the next time you're cut off
on the freeway,
flip that bastard the bird.
it shows you care
about his learning experience.
or just smile.
is love
and it's not as sappy
as it sounds.
it doesn't mean
that you have to
embrace assholes
for the sake
of embracing assholes.
simply put,
it means that we are all
closer than we think.
together, we are whole.
as one,
we become stronger.
there is unity in togetherness.
love doesn't mean
casual acceptance
of the guy
who cut you off
on the freeway,
almost causing you to crash.
it just means that
that guy has gone through
quite a bit of shit in his life
as well- he just doesn't get
the point that you have too.
so it is a matter of educating
one another on the finer points
of existence:
we come from the womb
to be placed in the earth-
the trick is what you learn
between those two points.
so the next time you're cut off
on the freeway,
flip that bastard the bird.
it shows you care
about his learning experience.
or just smile.
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
Take out a loan to Pay off your loans.
As surely as
Greece
will fall,
so shall other
countries.
The lending system
is based on potential
failure.
That is how money
is made by the wealthiest
people in the world.
They prey on weakness,
they strive on failure,
they revel in the slop
that is left over from
the fallout they
perpetrate.
It is the way
of the Sick,
the Twisted,
the Disturbed.
The more they have,
the more they want.
Profit isn't good enough,
only Armageddon will suffice.
Be wary of Wealth
for its only goal
is dominion over
All.
Greece
will fall,
so shall other
countries.
The lending system
is based on potential
failure.
That is how money
is made by the wealthiest
people in the world.
They prey on weakness,
they strive on failure,
they revel in the slop
that is left over from
the fallout they
perpetrate.
It is the way
of the Sick,
the Twisted,
the Disturbed.
The more they have,
the more they want.
Profit isn't good enough,
only Armageddon will suffice.
Be wary of Wealth
for its only goal
is dominion over
All.
Monday, June 29, 2015
turn away - tune out
ignorance
in the form of
judgment
is still
ignorance.
when common
decency is
ignored
it violates
basic intelligence.
and even if
none of us
can ignore ignorance,
we can ignore
judgment.
in the form of
judgment
is still
ignorance.
when common
decency is
ignored
it violates
basic intelligence.
and even if
none of us
can ignore ignorance,
we can ignore
judgment.
Sunday, June 28, 2015
some lessons are learned standing up
if we look further
past the small
nothings
that occupy
the tender parts
of our mind,
the tiny thoughts
that restrict,
we find
common ground.
we see that we are all
in the same boat,
floating off
through the void
of consciousness.
we find that holding others
back, keeping them
from their path
is nothing more
than trying to fulfill
the restrictions
we have put upon
ourselves.
but it is our individual
encounters
that guide us
in our learning.
to hinder someone
for their path
takes away
our own progress.
it's a losing battle
that detours us all
from our destinations.
as long as no one
gets hurt on the trail
that life has set
before them,
then what reason
would there be
to distract them
from their course?
we all endure
the emotions
thrown our way.
we suffer
at our own hands.
we suffer
at the hands of others.
we feel joy.
we smile.
sometimes
we frown.
but at the end
we can only
live life
the way we intend
without getting
too caught up
in the turmoil
others place
in our way.
be as good
of a person
as you can,
and keep
the obstacles
to yourself.
it is in this thought
that we teach ourselves
compassion,
justice,
truth and triumph.
it is in this idea
that we live
immortal,
learning like
there is no other moment
than right now.
we must teach others
the lessons of
compassion
and kindness.
we must school them
in the ways of
acceptance.
the greatest lesson of all
is learned through
embracing curiosity.
the greatest life lived
is the life of your own,
not living through others
and hoping to copy,
or distract them
from
their way.
past the small
nothings
that occupy
the tender parts
of our mind,
the tiny thoughts
that restrict,
we find
common ground.
we see that we are all
in the same boat,
floating off
through the void
of consciousness.
we find that holding others
back, keeping them
from their path
is nothing more
than trying to fulfill
the restrictions
we have put upon
ourselves.
but it is our individual
encounters
that guide us
in our learning.
to hinder someone
for their path
takes away
our own progress.
it's a losing battle
that detours us all
from our destinations.
as long as no one
gets hurt on the trail
that life has set
before them,
then what reason
would there be
to distract them
from their course?
we all endure
the emotions
thrown our way.
we suffer
at our own hands.
we suffer
at the hands of others.
we feel joy.
we smile.
sometimes
we frown.
but at the end
we can only
live life
the way we intend
without getting
too caught up
in the turmoil
others place
in our way.
be as good
of a person
as you can,
and keep
the obstacles
to yourself.
it is in this thought
that we teach ourselves
compassion,
justice,
truth and triumph.
it is in this idea
that we live
immortal,
learning like
there is no other moment
than right now.
we must teach others
the lessons of
compassion
and kindness.
we must school them
in the ways of
acceptance.
the greatest lesson of all
is learned through
embracing curiosity.
the greatest life lived
is the life of your own,
not living through others
and hoping to copy,
or distract them
from
their way.
Saturday, June 27, 2015
=
when the answer is
Civil Rights,
the question is never wrong.
when we're discussing Liberty,
the outcome must always
lean in favor
Of the People.
we are human beings,
working to get through,
living our lives
as best as we can,
hoping for a little happiness
along the way.
it is our right not
to have to
lay dormant
while others
gain enough insight
to realize
we all deserve our freedoms.
Liberty is for all people
no matter their denomination,
their class,
their creed,
their sexuality.
if Liberty is the question
the answer is always Yes.
Civil Rights,
the question is never wrong.
when we're discussing Liberty,
the outcome must always
lean in favor
Of the People.
we are human beings,
working to get through,
living our lives
as best as we can,
hoping for a little happiness
along the way.
it is our right not
to have to
lay dormant
while others
gain enough insight
to realize
we all deserve our freedoms.
Liberty is for all people
no matter their denomination,
their class,
their creed,
their sexuality.
if Liberty is the question
the answer is always Yes.
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