Thursday, October 13, 2016

I cannot mind the nightly news.
The faces are terrible.
Empty promises.
Vague expressions.
Controversy to keep us of guard,
to create division,
to render us harmless.

I wonder where I will be
when the bombs drop.
I wonder at their terrible sound.
Will we feel the tension of the impact
against our bones?

Their smug expressions
outline the lies.

The end is so close
you can almost taste it on the wind.

But the party has yet to begin.
The banners have yet to fly.
The acceptance speeches have
yet to assault or ears.
And yet the terror will come.

Where will I be when we finally
blow ourselves all to Hell?

Monday, June 13, 2016

another way around it

we are all afraid of something.
it originates from
a strong sense of individuality.

we are told from an early age
how unique we are,
and how we should be careful
of being led down
the wrong path by someone else
with another agenda.

stay away from outside religions
while being careful not to
question your own sense
of spirituality.

conform while retaining
your individuality.

you are special.

there is no one else quite
like you, little snowflake.

but make sure that you
find a group which best suits your
core beliefs.

women should be this way.

men should be this other way.

do not divert from the path
elected for you.

stand firmly in one opinion
or another.

but what we are not told about is insanity.
we are not informed about
the harsh reality that if we
keep our mind too tight,
it may snap.

if we believe that the world
is one way, but clearly see that it does
not conform to our set patterns, we have
a tendency to lash out at that
which is different from ourselves.

with enough push and pull, with enough
second guessing, with enough human contact,
and reading, and experience, and travel,
we find that
we are not all that different
than those we are taught to hate.
we begin to see that all those other faces
resemble our own.
we start to see that there are a hell of a lot
of people out there just as lost and confused
as we are.

but if we continue along the paths
set out for us by those that claim
to have our best interests in mind,
there is a tendency to become rigid
and angry,
even hateful from the fear
ignorance provides.

there are about a million other
people just like you, give or take
a few million, either way.

i'm not unique.
you're not unique.
those who you admire
are not unique either.

what makes you special in
one moment
makes you just like someone
else
in another moment.

it is in our realization
of solidarity
that humanity becomes
a little less frightening,
a little less harsh,
a little less rigid.

so when the hate fills you,
and you see everything
as if it exists
outside of yourself,
you may, in fact,
just be experiencing
a type of sickness
that was ingrained
in you as a form
of individuality...
and it is easy to remedy
when you realize
that everybody
breathes the same
air
in the same way
that you breathe air.
everybody hurts from
time to time.
everyone feels,
and everyone kneels
under the same sun
that shines down on you.
but the truth is
that there is no truth
other than the truth
that you
choose to believe.



Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Make it now

Money is the new Jesus.
It commands our
every waking moment.
Life can be measured by
assets and income.
The light at the end
of the tunnel
is only as good as the next
startup,
the next trade,
the next technological innovation.
In all honesty,
who uses what bathroom
is just an experimental
social jerk off session.
We need to be diverted,
controlled,
and told what to believe,
as long as those beliefs
fall within the categories
we are told to fit within.
Fuck the homeless that line the bridges
in Los Angeles.
To hell with the turmoil
in Detroit.
Screw the disenfranchised
of New Orleans.
In fact, damn the whole of
America
as long as that all mighty dollar
continues to flow into privileged hands!
Throw away the old,
and in with new...
as long as the new is owned by old money.
The truth is
we aren't ready for a better society.
We can't even hold on to that
which makes us human.
But just because something
hasn't been done
doesn't mean it can't be done.

Thursday, January 28, 2016

of the trials we endure

darkness does not explain it.
maybe darkness in shadow,
some type of void
that is hazy, surreal,
ripped at the edges.

the limbs refuse to work,
the soul feels heavy.
nothing is the way it
used to be, and it never will be
again.

emptiness says it well,
but it does not come close
to the full picture
because emptiness
does not sound so
painful.
there is something else
there;
a sludge,
a heavy black ink
that has a special way of dulling
the senses. it makes
sunsets shitty
and flowers droop.

distraction sometimes works,
but not always.
the harsh realization comes
in eventually,
and it only brings back the tears.
the small routines
you normally would not notice
suddenly become the hallmark
of pain.

then there is resentment,
anger, and grief to
occupy the suffering,
but it will only make you feel
guilty
in the end.

some small something
interrupts the day
and you start the process
all over again.

a certain smell will catch your
attention. a song
will project out of nowhere.
a strand of light
will grace an article
of clothing. there is
always something.

and in a few years
the pain will numb,
blanketed by time
and it will make you feel
guilty again
for not remembering more
often.
... that is if the madness
misses you
and you can somehow
keep yourself
from dwelling
in the past.

but one day
you will look back and
be grateful for the time
you had before they left.
you will love them more
than you ever thought you could.
maybe you will even talk to
them in the quiet hours
of the day
when no one else
is around,
and it will bring you
some comfort.

you will grow into the pain
where it will not feel
so insufferable.
it is never kind,
but it will not seem
so dire.

many years from now
you will look back
and remember
what you endured.
you will see someone
in as much pain as you were
then,
and you will try to lend
a hand.
you will understand
that it is nothing more than
words, but you hope
it helps.
you hope
to somehow eases
the sadness.

you will gaze into their eyes
and show them
what the reflection
of the future
may be:
a little stronger,
a little lighter,
and with a powerful
set of shoulders
for them
to rest their head.

a tiny flower for a tiny hand

life is so very fragile
                so fleeting
the moments brush through
           space
      and then
             they're
                       gone

a breath ...
         a blink of an eye ...
               and silence

but an echo remains
                for those
       you leave behind

the twinkling
            of a star

the ripple
         of a wave

the movement
           of a clock
      as time slips away

and the tears they hold
   are like a single drop of dew
      at the tip of a leaf,
         threatening to fall


Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Where we go from here

it breaks my heart
to think of
someone losing
a child.
the emptiness
left behind.
the dark nights.
the memories
of a smile that
will never touch
those lips again.
it's heartbreaking.
we can talk about
being strong,
about moving on,
but that isn't enough.
you see, there is a scar
on the heart that is carried
through and it never
really heals.
every time you laugh,
every time you dance,
every time you gaze up
at the big, bright stars,
there is always a tear
hidden secretly away.

I don't generally ask for my readers help. But there's a special person that I have come to admire over the years. She has always been diplomatic, always real, always straight forward. Her daughter passed away yesterday. She was only twelve. If you can give a little something, i know her family would greatly appreciate it. I would never ask anything out of my readers unless I fully supported it. So if you can, any little bit helps ...

https://www.gofundme.com/CorraS

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Sleep the Night Away

We're on an adventure.
At some point in
that adventure
we're going to experience
serious pain.
It will rattle the bones.
It will make you think
differently about everything
you thought you knew.
Such terrible pain
only happens a few times
in the span of a life,
but it can never be forgotten.
You will carry it like a wrecking ball.
And it will try its hardest to hold you back,
keep you down.
Often that pain we encounter
in this adventure will threaten to
break you.
You will hold your breath,
grit your teeth,
and the tears will come.
You will wonder why.
You will question the fabric
of your existence.
But you will survive.
You will wear that pain
like a ragged coat.
You will feel guilty if it should
ever slip your mind.
You will become stronger
for having forged through it,
but always it will remain.
When the days close in,
and are coming to an end,
that pain you carried will
give way to the next.
That someone who loves you
will carry on and drag that wrecking ball
until, finally, they can sleep too.

Thursday, January 21, 2016

the money that controls you

it is not enough to be
drowned
in ill begotten truths
(lies wrapped up in
just enough fact to seem
as if it were reality),
but we must also be smothered
by propaganda,
torn by rhetoric,
fed shit in every form
it assumes.

all of this by
adults,
leaders,
those who wish to be in charge.

they will poison our
fucking water,
tell us to hate,
teach us to divide ourselves
from anyone that disagrees with
our personal opinions.

... and they will smile
while they lie and
degrade everything
society should be aspiring to.

they find our fears
and manipulate the facts
just enough
to cause doubt.
because once they have you,
they can get away with almost anything...
until they piss off one of their own
with a little more power,
and then they fall
from grace.

the Big Boys Club
wants to control every
single thing
you have.
they will tax it,
try it, judge,
and dismantle
every part of your life
for profit.
and just when you think
they have taken it all,
they will find some new way
of taking what little you have left.

you see, there is no such thing as
fair. there are those in power,
and those without power.
but it is a house of cards.
once the masses figure
out that they no longer need
the shit they are being sold,
that house comes tumbling down
and the roles are reversed.

it is just a matter of getting
people to realize
they are being lied to.

Monday, January 11, 2016

all those who tire of

i taste a bitter
           poison
  on my tongue

for all of those
      who've
come and gone
i'm a symptom
     of all my parts
my teeth have grown
     so very long
whatever the reasons
     right or wrong
i'm glad i've come undone
    a ride through
the hills of illusion
past the scars
that make me be
visions of fire
              to set my reason
visions of fire
              to set me free
i taste a bitter
            poison
      on my lips
can't help but
                  think it's a gift
a jagged piece of paper
              just before it rips
like broken wings
of ascension
      lifting higher
until i become undone

Monday, January 4, 2016

happiness is a weapon

most of
what we do
is distasteful.

we are
bitter to the
trees and
the lakes and
the streams and
the forests
who shudder
@ our approach.

we are
careless with the
animals and show
no mercy @ their
slaughter.

we treat the land
as a toilet and
the fauna as a means
of simple murder
without regard for
the environment in which
we live.

we breed
for war and domination,
for fear and hatred,
for pain and torment.

we spill
the blood of our brothers.
we rape
our fair sisters.
we spoil the womb
and wretch foul
with dirty tongues.

we follow
clerics and prophets
of tired religions
that speak of wicked deeds
while committing the very sins
they abhor.

we lend
ourselves to misery and
mistrust,
to vile intent and
bitter sacrament.

we violate
one another along
the lines of fashion
and reason
and logical discourse.

we idolize
thieves and lunatics,
warmongers and murderers.

we are
deeply seeded creatures
of revenge and mayhem.

i see no monsters here.

there are those
who wish for peace
and prosper in the notion
that freedom,
true freedom lies in the heart
of every man, woman, and child.

they have come to believe
that we are capable
of living in harmony
with all things,
giving honor to the land,
to the beast,
and to the convictions
of the trustworthy.

they show their stripes
and wear them proudly
while others divert their gaze
so as not to be blinded
by integrity.

they live their lives
by the day,
by the minute,
by the second
without warning,
without wavering,
without trial
for they are better
than most,
and that is character.

i see no monster here.

Saturday, January 2, 2016

The Forest Falls

i put it in park and get out. there is ice and there is snow.
the smell of wood fire smoke hangs in the air,
both bitter and sweet at the same time. it reminds me of
old people in old homes with old lives. i walk up the steps,
open the door, and i'm in. there's a girl behind the register.
she's dressed in warm clothes, a scarf, and ear warmers. she
has a blanket draped over her, her hands tucked warmly underneath.

"How        much       for  a            Wilderness           pass?" i ask.
"Five                    dollars,"                 she replies.
"Okay,                 i'll take one,"                             i say.

she hands over the pink ticket. it looks like a scratch off lottery ticket.
there's the chosen month and the chosen day that you want to scratch off
for the day you'll be parking at the parking area. you have to display the ticket
in the front window of your vehicle so the rangers know
you're good to go.

i get back in the car and drive up the road a piece, enter the parking lot, and park.
i scratch off the ticket in the appropriate places, and put it on the rear view mirror.
i get out of the car and open the trunk. i put on my boots, my jacket, and my gloves.
i light a cigarette. there are people here and there, approaching the trails. they're laughing.
they're having fun. one out of five cars does not have the wilderness ticket. i smile.

the woods are clean and crisp. it is 37 degrees outside, but the cold feels nice. i hit the trail
and negotiate around some boulders. people are spread out on the trail. i make my way up a hill
and head east along the river bottom. it gets quieter the farther i go. there are fewer people.
eventually i am only left with the cold air and the sounds of the forest.

i can hear my heart beat. the snow crunches beneath my feet. my breath comes out like smoke
in the mountain air, crisp and clean. a rock tumbles from a ledge and cracks downward
along the mountain slope, smashing into boulders and trees on its path. silence.

i  hear  some  rustling  in  a  bush  a  few  feet  away.  a  bird  flaps    out  of  the    bush
and ascends into the air. up            and               down it goes. up         and              down. finally
it perches in a tree, bobs its little head, and stares at me.                              i smile.

i hear someone holler from down the mountain, and then it is silent again.
i go out farther. the trail bends and breaks, continues again past a hill of rocks,
and along the pine forest into oblivion. a twig snaps. i can hear my breath again.
my heart beats hard. i make my way up a bluff, and down into a gully
where there is a small pine tree. the snow crushes beneath my feet.

a    few    hours    later,      i   make     my   way  back  to my car.
there    are                more  people            now.
the sun is            caught
on the other side of the              ridge.
the              mountains                   are shadowed
as i drive out and back
to              reality.

take a sip, it won't kill you.

i use the term,
'don't drink the kool aid'
so often that i'm thinking
of having it tattooed on the
palm of my hand for
easier access.
it is in reference to
the people of Jamestown
who drank poisoned kool aid
at the request of Jim Jones.
i use the phrase for its underlying
meaning.
every time someone comes
at me with some
bullshit conspiracy theory,
religious propaganda,
or political affiliation,
i pull out my trusty,
'don't drink the kool aid'
speech, and it generally
ends the conversation.
really what i am saying is,
'don't fall for the bullshit.'
we are fed nonsense every
single day of our lives.
someone wants to
sell us something,
change our current affiliations,
or get us to
jump on some
three wheeled
band wagon
as if it were the next big cause
that will change the world
for the better.
to quote George Harrison,
"Nothing's going to change my world."
greed and power have always been
the highlight of the human condition.
the only way to combat greed and power
is to take away the want.
but want has to do with ego,
and ego is the framework
of the mind,
and the mind is a tricky son of a bitch.
the only way to make the world
a better place to live
is by putting
the best interest of the people first.
to initiate that,
we have to make a few rules.
quality of life comes first.
that would include health,
both body and mind.
second, we would have to do away
with ridiculous reward for
being in power.
third, we have to end racism,
sexism, and prejudice in general.
fourth, we have to end
the want of accumulation of wealth.
everything that is done
has to be done
for the good of the world,
for the good of society,
for the good of the people.
so bye - bye, Capitalism.
wealthy people that do good
for the sake of humanity
are few and far between.
it takes a special billionaire
to set appropriate philanthropy
into motion. that means
doing good for everyone
without personal gain.
personal gain is anything that benefits
the billionaire over the
common good of everyone else.
and like Harrison said,
"Nothing's going to change my world."
because let's face it,
humanity loves greed and power
a hell of a lot more
than it loves humanity.
so keep buying into the bullshit,
and we can keep spinning our wheels
in the mud. nothing will ever get done,
and only the previously prosperous
will prosper. the rest of us
can have
all the kool aid we want.