Displaced Mutant

Triangulated me

Not fitting in
to any defined holes

Not of similar mind
or culturally inclined
with the normal side

So weary of this
lame charade

Gonna jump
off this planet

Ride the super nova express
to another dimension
where no one
knows me

Where no one
judges me

Where I can
cease being

the Alien

Small Talk Architect

The star of the party scene
holding court center stage

Gliding from topic to topic
like a graceful ballerina

Always knows what to say
with the perfect tinge of humor

A true small talk artist
this chit chat virtuoso

Making conversation on the fly

That computation so complex
for we of the tongue tied majority
forever struggling
to figure out what to say next

Little Red Cycle

We got hit again yesterday
    
A scene of major blood and gore

Monsters with sick political agendas
hammering home their twisted points
       
Why can’t these idiots play the long game
and see that terror is a sure fire failure   

The world will never rally to their cause

In fact the opposite occurs

Their message gets blurred

Lost in a crimson red backlash

Emboldened enemies counterattack  

Good people will be repulsed

Terrorists become outcasts

Now we have to hunt them down

Pay them back with authority

Send in the drone missiles

Blow them away with technology

Collateral damage is inevitable       

This is war after all

Survivors hop on the violence cycle

The well traveled path of bloody revenge  

We’re all riding a road to destruction        

Bracing ourselves for the next hit

Living in perpetual fear
is just not the way to live

A sharp stick in the eye for an eye

Bringing tears to the world

Barbarians Us

Here in gulag gray
enemies of the state
get harsh mind control treatment
every day

The hard guards
in control
seek to break
prisoner bodies and souls
with creative tortures
of their own devices

Never underestimate
the cruelty 
man can dispense
on his fellow man

Inhumanity so easily rationalized away

War is Hell after all
and the desired ends
justify the bloody means

"Better them than us"
cry the America First
snarling super patriots

Invoking the age old ignorance
while the cycle
of rationalized violence
rolls on and on

Maybe tis really
our hemorrhaging values 
strapped to the torture table
as we devolve
into the oppressive ideology
we use to fight wars against

Pondering Existence

Video window
blares the news
in HIGH DEFINITION

Grave images
rolling in
like a tsunami 
on steroids

Pain of the world

International tragedy show

Day and night
the heartbreak
is relentless

It makes one question
the very 
existence
of God
when we see
so much
dysfunction
in his lame creation

God is love?

God is perfect?

Where's the proof?

Maybe this
is one 
of them
mystery
queries
with no
definitive answer?

Maybe God
has a plan
we were never
meant to 
understand

or maybe...

we were
simply a rough draft
the almighty
tossed in the trash can 

Children Of Limited Attention Spans

I am
too easily influenced
by random stimuli
that penetrates my eyes
like an unwanted guest
who won't ever seem to leave

I am
the target audience
of late night shysters
offering slick solutions
to my persistent life problems
for the bargain price
of $19.99
(shipping fees not included)

I am
dropped from the litter
of the tribe of bastard children
born from the snarling bitch
soulless economists
classify as rampant
mindless consumerism
now spilled over
into the modern electorate

i am
part of the rotting remnants
that was the body politic
so easily manipulated
by nerdy data miners
who anticipate our every need
after they plant the thought seeds
to be future focus group harvested

i am
a soldier in the zombie army
the snarling majority
coming to overwhelm
and conquer what's left
of the feeble resistance
who still consider themselves
free thinkers
seeking to defend
democratic traditions of the past

Those once noble concepts
destined not to last

Conversation With A Conservative

An honest to God religious zealot
of a mutual acquaintance
preached that if I did not embrace fully
and accept unconditionally
the divinity of Jesus Christ
Hell's fires awaited me when I died

I told this man of a conservative mindset
that JC's godly lineage will forever be a mystery

His divine super powers are irrelevant anyway
for the words that comprised his core philosophy
really need not be validated with tales of divinity     

Tis his message of loving EVERYONE
across the spectrum of humanity
in this rainbow patchwork quilt of diversity
has always resonated with me

Even sinners as so perceived
by the rules of traditional society
were embraced by this revolutionary 
many today celebrate as the messiah

These convictions got him executed eventually
by narrow minded Pharisees who could not understand
that the message of love and tolerance preached
by this humble unassuming man
were not a threat to their sacred status quo

So I asked my homophobic holier than thou friend
of a scripture quoting conservative Christian bent
if eternal damnation would be the post death fate
of all those who today refuse to embrace
the divisive non inclusive culture of hate
that crucifies those who do not toe the line
as set forth by strictly interpreted biblical confines?

My pious homophobic, xenophobic, misogynist friend
offered me up their condescending prayers for my soul

I said thanks for putting in a good word for me
with your distorted version of the almighty
but I think I'll take my final judgment chances
solely based on how I treated my fellow humans

here on Earth

Amen...

     

Next Up

Deep beneath the city
of glass and steel 
rats scurry to and fro...

Keeping to their place
as they have done for centuries
til that glorious day
when the castles above
get laid to waste...

Then they can move up
and lay claim to their rubble domain

Old Is New Part II

Reviewing thoroughly
the history of creativity
down through the centuries
we can state conclusively
nothing is new anymore

All that is done today
has been done
by somebody
somewhere before

Word erosion blurs
and eventually erases
previous creative proclamations
which resurface eventually
in the posts of new generations

Fake fresh inspirations 
run through today's hype machine
as the next BIG thing

but...

if you Google scroll
deep into the bowels
of transcribed history
you will see
today's genius masterpiece
is but a shiny refurbished toy
with a fresh coat of paint

Hell this poetic concept
you just read through
is nothing new

Tis a rebooted version of me
from a yesterday dream
originally cyber seen
in December 2014

We eventually plagiarize our own stuff
if we manage to live long enough    

Paradise Reboot

On the 50th anniversary
of the post apple munch apocalypse

Senior citizens Adam and Eve
took the bus cross town
and returned to Eden
to revisit the infamous tree
that was the root cause
of their cast out
of paradise demise

Sidestepping
the hot dog wrappers
and discarded site maps
that littered the trail
to this popular tourist trap
they paid the snake in the grass
(I think it was an asp)
tour guide the admission fee
to see what was once
a semi pious tree 

After reciting
chapter and verse
from the book of Genesis
the sly reptile hissed
that the curse could be lifted
if the original sinners
chopped down the damn source
of their banishment

Adam now filled with the spirit of redemption
picked up a golden chain saw
that the snake just so happened
to have in his Gucci satchel
and proceeded to rapidly  
take down the offending growth
and make firewood
as best he could
while Eve busily
gathered up rolling apples
to bake one of her heavenly pies

The moment that tree
hit the ground with a thud
the snake instigator
slithered away
laughing hysterically
about the continued gullibility 
of man

The sky opened up immediately
as the immortal landlord peered down
and screamed
"DAMN ME !!!
What the Hell
have you fools done now?"

Security angels 
were quickly dispatched
to roughly escort 
the disoriented pair
out of paradise yet again

The now down tree
reduced to a pile of splinters
could not possibly be repaired

The Lord our God was so disgusted
he stormed away
to devote his attention
full time to other 
more cooperative
parts of the galaxy

Transferred ownership of the site
formerly known as Paradise
to a local tribe
who crassly bulldozed 
the whole God forsaken freak show
and turned it into a glitzy casino

Ironically
Adam and Eve
now take the bus there
once a month
along with the other
gambler pilgrims
to worship the God of Avarice
who actually pays out occasionally

Somebody Has To Ask

There have been times
during this spiritually 
confounding trip
I've pondered
the dangerous question
if God and Satan
were one and the same

These extreme wings
of good and evil
forever mixing

and switching it up
til they blur in the cosmic blender
and become indistinguishable

Our stretched souls waver 
as these eternal combatants 
vie for our favor

WHAT THE HELL !!!

Do angels and demons keep a running score?

Who resides on top of the leader board?

Is this life all a rigged game?

Did the Lord create the Devil
as some sort of sick 
schizophrenic alter ego?

A contrived counterbalance

of see-saw temptation
to forever test our wavering faith?  

Making religion the ultimate 
sleight of hand illusion?

Has humanity been conned

by a master grifter magician?

OH ME OF LITTLE FAITH !!! 

Death Dance

In my comatose state of grave

Serenaded by the soothing
blip...
blip...
blip...

Riding the sloping green line
cardio mountain range

I have for the first time
in my jaded life
found true perspective

No longer worried
about money
or job insecurity

Survival now the over riding priority 

My only battle
left is breathing

Heart beat weakens

Serious whispering

Muffled tears all around

In and out I fade

So these are the death throes

This is how the end game goes

Voices become more muted

A mystery priest hovers over me
chanting pointless Latin incantations

I chuckle at this final hypocrisy

A faint click of a switch
to take me off the machine

A ghastly tingly surge
as I violently convulse
the last gasp of oxygen
from my soon dormant lungs
that had once served me well

Death came as expected

My demise time duly recorded
for the morbid data base
in the gray clouds

Darkness

Silence

Then a flash of light...
far off in the distance

If you are wondering 
about the eternal mystery

Death is not a horrific visage at all

I hook up with a serene
gentle presence
bathed in soft light

The ancient angel 
takes my trembling hand
and in a soft voice
whispers in my ear
"Well done my son"
and with that
a feeling of peaceful bliss uplifts me

My new friend and I
slowly ascend
as we make our exit
from this chaotic world
where I never really fit in
to merge with the light permanently

I am not in pain anymore

I am not afraid

I am at peace

See you soon

Dinosaur Ramblings

I do now know
those ancient prophesies
that foretold long ago
about time acceleration
as the years get accumulated
which a fresher version of me
once scoffed at dismissively
as bitter delusions of the elderly
are not only painfully true
but they are now happening quite rapidly

I can faintly hear
those long ago departed ghosts
laughing at my past naïveté

Ahhh the arrogance of youth

Too self absorbed to hear the truth
from those who have traversed
the same well worn path

Now those spirits get the last laugh

So here I be...

Saturated in irony
as I am now the crusty relic

Admonishing the text obsessed
microchip attention span generation
to look up from their hand held existence
and savor the many diverse flavors
this very finite
accelerated timeline has to offer

Carpe Diem my friends...

Game Changer

Off in the not to far off distance
the end of us relentlessly advances

The empire we thought was forever
soon to be relegated to memory

Our once great and proud legacy
corrupted by decadent arrogance

When they pick through the ruins of  us
will the judgment of history be kind?

Brought down not by a mighty army
but by a spiritual force we could not crush

The surge began many years before
in a remote region of the empire

A preacher who claimed to be king
was executed for his treason

We thought that was the end of him

We believed we had buried his dream

How ironic that this prince of peace
would take down our war machine

Now we find our glory receding
while the legend of this man grows

They call him the Son of God

They say he died for our sins

Does he forgive our part in his drama?

Is it possible to love your executioners?

Maybe if we had not killed the messenger

We wouldn’t be in our current predicament

Soul Support

Went to the redemption center
to drop off my pile of regrets

The long haired hippie behind the counter
asked me if needed a little help

I insisted I could handle the load myself
being the proudly independent type

He seemed a tad put off by my refusal
with a look of profound disappointment

So he gently asked me again if I needed him

“Jesus Christ!” I said, “Please leave me be!”

With that he bowed his head and proclaimed

“Thou knowth who I be and yet ye reject me?”

Then he faded transparent and vanished
and my dark soul filled with white light

The redemption center is now my cathedral
where I gladly seek the support I once spurned

In our lonely little world of isolation
         
We need all the crutches we can find

Mirror Prayer

Beneath 
the stain glass canopy
the holy types do say
in their pious
sanctimonious way
that Jesus died 
for our sins

Twas a real bloody show

He then rose from the dead miraculously

It was in all the papers

but seriously ...

Who asked him 
to take
the rise and fall
for Daddy's
flawed creation?

It wasn't us for sure

and to complicate matters
the prophets constantly say
in their ominous dire way
the sequel
when he returns
at the precipice
of the Apocalypse
to save the day
will be even more
spectacular than
the first act 

What the Hell?

We flawed beings
(historically a constantly
disappointing species)
need to take ownership
of our self generated transgressions

Deal with the consequences

We gotta carry that damn cross
our various sins crafted 

Do not depend on a bail out
of divine intervention

Stand on our own two feet
and not be so reliant
on a power out there
that for all we know
may no longer care

Crossed Up

From out of the wasteland
the straggly stranger wandered in       

Dressed like a homeless person,
he had quite an entourage with him

Preached about spiritual salvation,

Spoke of a kingdom we could not see   
    
At first he seemed quite harmless
til his words threatened our authority

So we did what we always do with rebels 
had him arrested and inflicted with much pain  

When we demanded he recant his treason
he very calmly refused to play our power game

Leaving us no choice but the death penalty
that scary deterrent thing we do so well

Thank God that whole mess has been laid to rest

Just another little cult threat we had to dispel  

Soon to be forgotten by the desperate rabble
forever chasing flavor of the month messiahs

  

The Age of Click

Pounding the keys again

Peck..Peck..Peck

Letting life's frustrations
fly off my fingertips
onto the serene screen

Tonight my thoughts
exceed the speed
of my compromised connection

The horror of being frozen out

Locked up by heartless tech

Words now bottle necking
inside my clogged hour glass

Oh to have a paper and pen!

but stolen office supplies
long ago
were all utilized
and never replenished

No need for such relics

Or so I thought
when I purchased
this pricey device

I shake rattle and roll
my accursed hardware

Bad idea

Skull and crossbones appear
on my solid blue screen

Fatal error 

This is the final
proclamation

The red power eye
grows dim

Signaling the end
of our relationship

All my brain wave residue
I had deposited 
on a chip
the size of a gnat
now terminally dead

Gone to that place
in the clouds
where data angels reside 

Time to start over again

as I scour my existence
for parchment and quill pen

Tragic Magic

Down we tumbled

through the
false bottom
trap door
we forgot
was there  

Thought we were
part of a magic show
til we realized
that these illusions 
we relied on
were easily exposed
to those 
paying attention

Our hidden wires
we believed to be concealed
were readily revealed
for all to see

Boos rained down derisively

Skeptics from the Peanut Gallery
screamed rude obscenities 

Then the mirror shattered
and while we were
picking up the pieces
of our wrecked performance 
that damn rabbit ran off
with our hat!!

Dealing From The Bottom

I met the anti Christ
in a dream state
or maybe
twas just a premonition

So hard to tell these days

Anyway...

the devil in my head
inquired if I wanted
to play for his team
since I have quite
the impressive sin resume 

(his words, not mine)

I take no pride in my debauchery
but I won't run from it either 

Anyway...

Terms of the infernal contract
were laid out on a cluttered table

My eternal soul
for a case of beer

Back and forth we negotiate
(since that's what con men do)

I propose a bag of corn chips
as a throw in addition
(cause they go so heavenly with brew)

Louie reminded me of my
low salt diet restrictions
and counters with
a personalized brass mug

You see...

I've always struggled
with loose temptation
(being the undisputed master
of absolution rationalization)
but this time my conscience declined
the deal of a lifetime

Going to hold out
for the angels
of my better nature
to make me
a counter offer
and bargain hard for my eternal salvation

Implosion Us

After we finally drove
our ancient enemy
into the sea

After all the pilfering, plundering
and general mayhem

Our victory was complete
as we peed on the ashes
of their leveled cities 

Generations of strife
fueled perpetually by hate
spent on a war
we never dreamt would end

Now was the time
to make the peace
but no one knew how

It had been so long

Media cheerleaders pondered 
"If we turn off the war machine
what will become of our economy?"

and what will our holstered warriors do
without death jobs and a cause to die for?

So in this vacuum of sanity 
our glorious military
took control of all diplomacy

The media was brought into line
ensuring the panic message
kept the coordinated hate fires burning 

Conscientious politicians
who objected were summarily shot

Internal dissent
was brutally crushed

War was declared
on all enemies of the people 

be they real or imaginary

Those they deemed impure
were made to disappear

Our new culture of fear
had redirected the war inward

Against an enemy
that use to be part of us

Currents Of Currency

Gray skies
wrapped around
the former majesty
that was Factory City

Weeds breed unrestrained
blasting through
the cracks of forgotten time 

Beauty long ago drained
from our forgotten garden

Strategically abandoned
when the money migrated
to more cost efficient climes 

Generations of worker bees
classified as collateral damage fall out
were systematically erased 

Down trodden victims
of the man made economic drought

Blue collar refugees
from the outsourcing calamity
of the late 20th Century

Today the modern scourge 
has begun to scrub away
the white collar class
as the money flows
to the sweat shop
cyber linked jobs
of the third world

The leveling effect
of capitalistic greed
where the one time haves 
are rapidly becoming 
the have nots
as the bottom rung
of unwashed masses
finally move up to get their shot

The total global
redistribution of income

Not the class revolution
Marx envisioned
but the financial evolution
of capitalist history

One group’s untimely demise
is another’s prosperity

So these nasty weeds
we are currently choking on
on the flip side
are blossoming flowers 
in lands formerly barren 

Uncivil Disunity

The staunch defenders of matrimony
standing arm in arm at the sacred wall

Holding back the tide of history
The forces of gaydom moving in

Queers trying to crash the party
that’s been going on for centuries
and there lies the proverbial rub,
since this institution has survived all stupidities
and really does not need to be saved
from any imaginary assaults 
by people of a different persuasion
who only seek the same rights we enjoy

So here we are dealing with prejudice again,

Hatred wearing the face of moral indignation

Another guise that’s gone on for centuries,

Stupidity never seems to go out of style 

So long as ignorance exists to fuel it

Greasing The Skids

Deep down we know it's all gone wrong
but the myth of the American Dream
remains very strong

Way too deeply ingrained
in the national psyche
for any hope of the major changes
we need so desperately

The gulf of economic disparity

Growing exponentially

So go ahead and chant away

Protest the obvious inequities
of institutionalized hypocrisies

Sure there may be more poor
than ever before
but the rich massahs still hold sway
and will scare enough sheep in 2020
with their time tested fear machine
to hold the socialist wave at bay

Please do not shoot this messenger

The pain will be only temporary

History runs on it's own timetable

Though it does try the patience of Humanity

Have Not Soup

I hate it when anyone hurts
anywhere in our world
of massive resource

All the suffering
of the human condition
showcased on my flat screen
seems to me
to be quite obscene

Why can’t we share
and pool our wealth?

For in the end
after all the coins have been tallied
we do share same humanity

Does this make me
a bleeding heart
commie socialist
sissy boy?

Perhaps I am
by your definition

but in the end

I don’t give a damn
about you
and your selfish ways

Better fortify your castle
while you can
cause the time will come
when these serfs you minimize
will have their day

Pry Net

When we built the machine
out of rubber bands
and impractical dreams

so pleased were we 
with our implausible creation
we donated it
to the central government

Who of course
insisted we be paid
a nominal fee
for advancing the cause
of modern humanity

At the great unveiling ceremony
the Minister of Conformity
gave a stirring invocation 

A new age
of peace was declared

The public would benefit
from security derived

Courtesy of 
the cloud extracting device

Your life information
personal and formerly private
would now be shared 
with the Ministry
of Homeland Homogeneity 

Little did we realize at the time
amidst the patriotic pageantry 
that the seeds of our nightmare
planted in this swamp of panic
would forever 
change the landscape

Today the light of freedom
we long took for granted
grows dimmer by the day
and the shadows will not abate 
til we take back
our individual identities
and finally summon
the courage to unplug the machine
we naively created

Power Waltz

Follow the line  ________________________ 

Follow the line  ________________________

Blind obedience
is all a state of mind

To play or not to play
by the asinine rules
written by demented fools?

How long
can one bite their tongue
and endure
the slings and arrows
of outrageous egos?

Sometimes you gotta break
from the twisted conga line

Jump the barbwire fence 
spiked with mindless ignorance

Dance with consequence

Give truth a spin
around the dance floor
and maybe 
empowered wallflowers
will join in

Tech Wreck

How could we have known
the awesome power
of these hand held devices
that lived in our pockets
would one day 
fry our neighboring reproductive organs
and leave
the whole wired world sterile?

Such delicious irony
that today the only people left
who can advance our species
are the citizens
of so called under developed countries

and to think that the extinction
of our tech worshiping society
so addicted to technology 
could have been prevented
if we kept these machines we loved
at arms length

Conspiracy Industry

My conspiracy
that I've polished and perfected
to the point 
where it could conceivably 
be true 
could be your conspiracy too
if we can find a way
to get our paranoia straight
and coordinate our distrust
of the official story

We could start a blog
to spread some viral suspicions 

Fan the flames of public doubt

Become an expert TV authority

Ride the media wave we created  

Maybe merchandise our hysteria

Sell an overpriced t shirt or two  

By the time the fact checkers
ruin our tale with inconvenient truth

Profits will be neatly tucked away
to reinvest in our next treachery fantasy