Life Hurts

 

What came first the depression or pain?

They blur in concerted agony

Torturing in harmony

Blending misery

Razor blade slices my tongue

A jagged bloody mess

Now I can't French Kiss

This hurt makes me lonely

The pain supplements my sadness
like rancid bacon and eggs

Nobody wants me

Least of all myself

The miserable freak

Blessings Tabulation

 

COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS

You have more in your pocket

than you think

even if you believe 

the quality of your life stinks

No matter how much it currently hurts

millions of less fortunate souls got it far worse

So go outside in the pouring rain

Splash in the juiciest puddles...

and by all means...

COUNT YOUR FRICKIN BLESSINGS !!!

Soul Collector

 

Angel of Death

Always lurking
on the periphery
of human tragedy

Ready to load up
harvested souls
for his long time boss

Cares not
if the victims protest
or whimper about their fate

They ain't gonna negotiate
their way
out of eternity

Nothing personal mate

Just a case of wrong place
wrong time mortality

Hate Connection

 

Just because I hate A
does not mean necessarily
that I love B

For you see my little droogies

I am quite capable of despising
both sides of this decrepit coin

The enemy of my enemy
can never be my friend
cause I can't readily

compartmentalize

and build walls
around my many hatreds

to avoid
complicated conflict duplication

Iceberg Man

 

That dude you so admire

All smooth and debonair

Struts about

with the confident air

of a hyper cool superstar

He seems

to have his shit together

He's the legend we fans

saddled with our own

personal anxieties  

can only dream to be

But perception ain't always reality

Too often they are dreams

of how we wish things played

For while the confidence man projects

nary a care in the world

like an iceberg

we only see the tip

and not

the underlying despair

trapped beneath

our hero's churning sea

of suppressed insecurities 

The Opiate of Numbers

 

We the esoteric oracles of future events
have moved way past
primitive crystal ball tech

Instead we now harvest targeted data
to project tomorrow with supreme confidence
based on our very best
quantitative sample analysis

Modern prophets of an arrogant bent
rely heavily on these black and white stats
to such a skewed over reliant extent
they oft overlook unseen anomalies
tucked away in the shaded margin of error

Ignore not the ancient sage of prophesy
warning us to beware the Beast of Improbability
slight as the long shot odds statistically
that the catastrophe may seem to be

We need to always respect the possibility
that our best laid statistical projections
are no match for the power of Destiny

That most overlooked shock variable
throughout illogical human history

Help Wanted

 

All I want for Christmas
is a president
who is smarter than me

Not a high bar exactly

Here's my Chief Executive Check List:

One who is well informed
and eloquent with their positions

Possessing of intellectual curiosity

A firm grasp of history

Well versed in economics

would be excellent

A person who is compassionate

towards those less fortunate

A leader with a steady moral compass

A beacon who is globally respected

Not a close minded fool

brimming with arrogance
trying to bluff his way through

Is it too much to ask for competence?

Disorderly Transition

 

Back and front...

Out and in...

Our orderly sequence

has gone astray...

Tis that kind
of transposed day...

We can either strain
to scrub away the stains
and get back to the original intent
or accept 
this permanent reversal variation
and learn to embrace

life's many deviations 

Contrived Villainy

 

In our stunned state

when the walls

came tumbling down

we were for once

in that moment

one nation

A united people
on that tragic day

And in our naivete
we actually believed
our rarefied national unity
post 9/11
would survive
the pointless partisan blasts
that serve only to divide
and distract
us tainted peasants
from who the real enemy is

Murky Mirror Man

 

How ironic

that I have become

all the things

I used to mock

and revile

in my youthful nativity

Not the way

I ever envisioned I would be

Such is the high price

of muddling conformity

Always settling

for the comfortable

low risk wave averse position

A member of 

the obscure

anonymous median

Part of the muddling majority

Mired in our stagnant mediocrity

The nightmare

of always settling

and shortchanging

our sold out dreams

Hooray For Us

 

I do so wish
we legions of misfits
would dismiss this fixation
with trying to fit in
and assimilate 
with the bland median

I dream we cease
constantly tearing each other down
by standing on the bone pile
to be better seen and admired
by our false cultural idols

Always desperately seeking validation
from this shallow judgmental
cookie cutter society
saturated with hypocrisy
that has as way more
deep seated issues than we

I do so aspire
for the day 
we misfits finally see
that we are the flawed majority,
disorganized as we may be

Celebrate and leverage
our many variances
that bless our diverse alloy
with the fiber strength of steel

To Do or Not to Do

 

If we are to be defined
by the choices we make
then we must
also be assigned
by the choices we don't

Acts of omission
can either diminish
or uplift us

It's no wonder
that with all these
variations
permutations
and their sticky consequences
we too often get paralyzed
by indecisiveness

Best to not over think

Trust first instinct

Gut intuition can be your friend

Make your play
as best you can
and in the end
don't beat yourself up
over imperfect
all too human decisions

No need get overly defensive

Learn from your thought process

And then turn the page
and proceed confidently

in a forwardly direction

Not Edgy Enough

 

Out here on the perimeter
far beyond the boundary
of standard demarcation

but close enough to still inflict

cultural imperatives

on us out there natives

hangs a flashing neon sign
on a crumbling wall
that reads:

"Death is the Ultimate Trip"

This you already knew?

Well good for you

my connected friend

Remind me to unplug
that Epiphany cliche
and push away

to find a new perimeter

not mired down

by soul crushing

cliched pop reality

Modern Incriminations

 

The adulterous letch

currently in a panic 

Covering his tracks
this cheating man
tries to scrub his hard drive
of incriminating texts
with his sexy mistress

that saturates like a fungus

his trusty hand held device

Alas,
this modern day palimpsest

Etch A Sketch
will retain original

and subsequent sins
that can be revived
when clever forensics are applied

The desperate dickhead

will find 

an old fashioned

sledge hammer
to the damning evidence
still works best

Head Wrong

 

The ancient Rules of Attraction:

Boy sees girl

Boy wants girl

Girl teases the bull

Girl sets the terms

To those overheated souls
who seek
to adroitly navigate

and hopefully penetrate
the nether region area
beneath her dangerous curves
first read the blood stained
warning label attached

Good luck 
trying to differentiate
her variations
of pleasure and pain
in this zero sum game
of lust based relations

Not that the male of the species

will have the capacity to care

or think rationally

when the flag goes up

as his engine roars

and the fine print

in the infernal contract

he just signed gets ignored

Tis no accident

the male to female ratio

here in Hades

is so damned skewed

against us lonely boys 👿

Timely Dancer

 

When tomorrow becomes today
we need to accept
that soon it will be yesterday

Though it often seems this way
time is never a static concept
as shadows slow dance with

and eventually envelope

the blurred silhouette
that soon will be captured by darkness

Best respect and adapt

to this ever changing circumstance

Motion being a kinetic constant
on the continuum spectrum

that claims us all in the end

Sexolution

 

Bartender Heather,
the former feather dancer
used to be
a professional dream teaser

She's a throw back to innocent times
when erotica was all in the mind

Sexy silhouette, sultry shadows
flirtatious winks and a naughty smile

Back then it was a scandalous show
nice girls did not get into

Today the fantasy game
is all silicon based and in your face
with little left to the imagination

Bored girls grind hard to lonely souls
for the currency in their pockets
with all the passion
of a rote business transaction

While a withered Heather sighs
and rolls her heavily made up eyes
 
Pours drinks to the horny pervs
and wistfully laments her lost art 

Damnable Doubts

 

Forever in my line of sight

The immaculate dream

bathed in soft sunlight

She has and will always be

my unattainable angel

Shrouded in mystery

I question my lucky eyes

partaking of this wishful vision

All I know of her

is a silhouette I see

when the sunlight deems

to share her glorious form with me

Every curve is magnified

by the luscious shadow 

the goddess casts

A celebration in my eyes

My imagination

vividly colors her whole

between the lines

of the romance novel

where I craft us together

happily ever after

Filling in the blanks

as I strain to escape

the picture frame

that is our anti fantasy

too damn rational prison

where angels are forbidden

to reside in our gray reality

Bio Disposable

 When tomorrow becomes today

all our dreams officially
get summarily
and permanently
taken away

by a long gray convoy

of dented dump trucks

Dropped in a boggy marsh
on the outskirts
of our soon to be Ghost Town
with all the other Disposables
from our throw away society

Only God's Chosen Ones get recycled

Performance Issues

 

Some days

Like today

I just can't get into character

Bogged down by persistent doubt
that my act has grown lazy
and the world now knows
just how Fugazi I truly am

The judgmental chorus
is so totally clueless
how hard it is
to change acts
for an insecure fraud my age

Prayer For Affirmation

 

When I read
the daily litany
of human calamities
from the safety
of my secure bunker
I lay on thick
my best social media empathy shtick

"Prayers for this" 🙏🙏

"Hearts for that" 💓💓 

Emoji sympathies

Ain't I long distance compassionate?

Group hugging these unfortunate strangers

Like all the other poser
posting hypocrite saints
in this sick voyeur domain
who deep down are relieved
"Thankfully it's them not me
dealing with this tragedy"

So we fish for mass kudos
to feed our starving self esteem
in this dark sea of misery
that passes for Humanity

Captain Dunsel

 

Here in Automation Heaven
the production line rolls 24/7

Robots perform all labor manually

AI has now assumed all thought processes

Today we creators of said devices
have all become
so functionally obsolete
we now do this existence
without purpose

Without thought

Totally unnecessary

In many respects
we are now the mindless machines
like the early models we conceived
to relieve our lazy asses
from what we perceived to be
the mundane burdens 
of our formerly hands on lives
we now wax nostalgic about

Humanity has been set free
by the miracles of Technology

But as tragically
is too often the case
our headstrong species did not 
fully think things through

Now we collectively
sit on our fat asses
with nothing to do

Sans the distractions
of the active tasks
that once defined us
we now reside
in thought silos online
in a mass bitchfest of hate
fueled by the Automation prison
we did ironically create
to make life easier

Smeared Love

 

On a canvas buried
deep in my attic repository
are shavings of charcoal
arranged perfectly
to portray the heavenly visage
of my long gone former love

I recall that day

so many years ago

walking hand in hand

in the park

with this angel

I believed was sent to Earth

especially for me

After some coaxing

she agreed to sit for a portrait

from a gruffly street vendor

who perfectly 

captured her pure beauty

in less than five minutes

A picture lasts a lifetime

even if hers was tragically

a mercurial comet

that graced my path

Taken too soon

The framed memory

for years hung

in my bachelor pad

It was all I had of her

When my now wife moved in

I knew it had to come down

Carefully boxed up and stored away

Hidden the masterpiece must remain
cause my current love
would be very pissed
at this harmless
pictured memory

that once meant so much to me

Such nonsense

to feel threatened by a ghost

Jealousy is a such a pointless insecurity

Greatest Show On Earth

 

Polish those stars

Dust off the old generals

These crusty military
relics from the past

Prop them up in front of the map
of our latest glorious war event

We'll get back to the bleak economy,
wealthy men raping children,
and other corruptions next week
but now we gotta hear experts speak
about our cool high tech weaponry
and how we gotta make
(fill in the blank)
safe for democracy
after we first
take some dusty armaments
off the shelf
and bomb the shit
out of their oppressed populace

Our generous
hand picked contractors
are eagerly standing by
because after the carnage is done
comes the real fun
of rebuilding the wreckage
our smart bombs did create

It's a win/win for everyone
on the profitable carousel
of War Really Ain't Hell

It's just good business

Shaded Love

 

Teen age memories:

The Girl Next Door
from across the way

High school prom queen

Every boy's sticky dream

Nightly peep show

Forever in my adjacent window

Her shades slit open strategically
allowing peering me a free look see

Eight track blasting the Bee Gees

Her tight body gyrating sensually

I know she feels my burning eyes
ravaging her naughty innocence

Music subsides

Lights go dim

My fantasy lays in her bed

Could she be dreaming of me?

Her admiring voyeur
who come morn
she will surely ignore 
but
not tonight
as I turn out the lights
hop into my little bed
and reach for my supply
of jizz absorption tissues

Fade to Black

 

Are the lights dimming

or is it just me?

Is this last call

or just diminished electricity?

Ever get the feeling
you have overstayed
your welcome?

I have this suspicion

about my dwindling life

As the host fidgets

while peeking at his watch

Have I become

the overbearing

oblivious guest

who would not leave?

For sure

I am pretty much done here

and the world seems to be

equally finished with me

Maybe it's time
to stop hanging around
just for the sake
of stretching

this continued existence

Take some solace

in the length of the trip

Find comfort

in every experience

Turn the last page

Close the book

Fade to black...

Stealth Maintenance

  

All my dirty little secrets
stacked way up high
in the insecure

suppressed vault
deep inside
my memory repository 
need to be
taken out
inspected
and rigorously
sponge cleaned occasionally
lest they fester
and ever spill out
accidentally

No need

creating any more messy
additional real life
rancid scented complications

than necessary

Preventative power scrubbing

is damage control applied

pre surprise disclosure 

Fangs of the Joker

 

The shady cartoon characters

are quite content
to perform out of sequence

from the shadows of obscurity

Sharing adventures
through espionage secrets
now exposed globally
as they cut the cord
on all past guardrails
of internal security
now deemed obsolete
and out of fashion
by well meant

advocates of free speech content

What the less enlightened

choose to dismiss

as light weight

harmless fluff entertainment

is in reality 

all a brilliant comic front

for our destined

coming soon

implosion destruction

A Twisted and Tangled Man

 

As the years roll by

acceleration is inevitable

as we descend the funnel

into the mortality's abyss

It also comes to pass

that people and things

we once experienced

drop off along the way

Some get replaced

Others reimagined

But erosion naturally happens

Way back in the previous century
my personal tactile therapy
was patiently
untangling my knotted
spiral phone cord

I always found this to be

a much needed mindless task

perfect for off loading

accumulated stress

Alas

maximized phone stretch
never seemed to last
as the forces of Twisted
quickly returned to limit
my connectivity reach

Tis the little

mind numbing trinkets like this

we so dearly miss

as I pop another Valium to forget

another casualty of progress

Rolling Desperate

 

I danced with Chance

on a table of stained felt

bought and paid for

by crashed dreams

Post wreckage
I hooked up with Epiphany

for a level setting session

(at least temporarily) 

Too late to save
my bank account

now depleted

The House had its way

with yet another hapless victim

skewered and defeated

The dice last night
which did not roll my way
were as loaded as me

There's a reason
the drinks are free

A Loser's Lament
wondering where
the money all went
as I plot
how and when
I can get back
to the no win game