Fame and Misfortune

 

...and poor little Marco had to just sit there

Biting his tongue with glazed eyes

deep in the throes of mournful contemplation

at the whipping post that is Versailles

Scene of a previous historical humiliation

Today he tortures himself

on the wrong turn he made
when he joined this Circus of Lies

run by a demented clown he deeply despised

His going to the gallows expression
should serve us all as a life lesson

Selling your soul

comes attached with consequence

The fine print we ignore

That lengthy disclaimer box

we check and consent to

Cause we wanna get what we want

Little Marco

now chokes on his just deserts

Hell is filled with lost minions

to ambition like him

Their reckless vanity

blinding them

as they plummet

into the abyss

of career avarice

Glimmer Crew

 

Lost in the fog
of hopeless oblivion

In the doldrums we languish
on our battered refugee ship

Is this our forever destiny?

The curse of endless monotony
compounded daily

But all is not hopeless

We do have options

We can flip this tragic script

Activate wide lens perceptions

Look around

Seek solid ground

Find a beacon to guide us home

Drawn to the dream

of a distant lighthouse beam

Faintly seen
but just enough

maybe

to save us from dormancy

Roses are Read

 

And then depression set in...

Too much sadness

Amateur analysis 

Too much life

I've lost my cleverness

Self abandoned

Believe it or not poetry helps

The melody level sets

Whispering serenity 

Soothing rhythms 

Writing the demons out

You should try it

Thank you for your attention

Swipe Left

 

The anti social man
that I definitely now am
does not despise humanity
in the classical spiteful sense

I hate no one individually

away from our pack specifically 

It's the very concept
of human interaction
I can no longer stand

So please

don't take my aloofness personally
but if you choose

this path of folly

and take the aggrieved route

rest assured 
I frankly don't give a damn

my dear invisible to me ghost

Tears of Angels

 

Every time
my forbidden love
smiles in my direction
and we sneak shared glances

I feel the orgasmic tingle
you only get from a lover

With every sly touching tease
arousal is guaranteed

That rush of passion's heat
to be stored in sensual memory
will be tonight's masturbation fantasy

as we star in each other's
internal porn productions

This is our secret intercourse

This is the edge of our relationship

An affair of aching frustration

Never straying beyond
the boundaries of morality

We both know the rules

We both accept our suppressed realities

Good people paying the price
for not playing the game of vice...

For now...

Blow Me

 

Wake up

Break up

Gonna be a blow up

Everybody's fighting today

Pissed off

Gloves off

Welcome to the blood lust

We're gonna die eventually

We sew the seeds of our own destruction

Nothing can stop this tragic production

We're going up in flames

Our atoms rearranged

Some say this shit is preordained

Anyway...

All the charges have been set

The timer ticks toward zero

Don't be a hero

Lose those pointless regrets

The cavalry ain't coming today

May as well party hard tonight

Wear something tight

Let's push all our chips in

Dance in the flaming trash bin

Prepare for the mass attack

Hedonism is the new black

Inhibitions blown away

Life's a crap shoot anyway

Drop that shroud of sorrow

None of us will see tomorrow

Oh well...

What's for dinner?

Buyer's Regret

 

The Prince of Persistence
the great Wile E Coyote

(whom I worship by the way)
just assembled a fool proof
guaranteed or your money back

easy to assemble trap
courtesy of Acme Online
to finally snag
his long time
Road Runner adversary

"What could possibly go wrong?"

true believers always say

Though what exactly

would our hero do
if he somehow ever caught
the object of his perpetual pursuit?

Could he possibly move past

his long lasting chase obsession

or would Wile E. be forever lost

in the trap

of careful what you wished for

buyer's regret?

Gummy Carnivore

 

The toothless predator

sure ain't what he used to be

Today's neutered beast
still has to eat

Sets a clever gotcha trap

with all the best

enticement bait

to snare a delicious treat

Inspired by a How To

YouTube tutorial

The source of all knowledge

in the 21st Century

But alas
his potential prey

saw the same video

Armed with this spoiler
the well informed non victim

easily side stepped the trip wire

and scurried on its merry way

So today

no more freebies

for the humbled

former apex hunter

who now has to seek 

gainful employment

in order to obtain the means

and satisfy his carnivore needs

He buys all his meat
in cans of Chef Boyardee

and chicken baby food puree
from the local market
just like the rest of us
civilized eunuchs

This toothless predator

sure ain't what he used to be

Then again, neither are we

#Micropoetry

 

Life is unfair...

There I said it...

The concept of equality
is a noble stretch goal
but in reality
ain't achievable probably

in this lifetime anyway

and is most definitely

beyond our  control

Past mass inequities

blot our sorry history

Current disgraceful obscenities

will not be rectified today

For sure

such big picture solutions

are way above my pay grade

So instead I focus

my meager energy
on the unjust mini stains
splattered on life's periphery
with my very own

woefully inadequate poetry

Wearing Floaties

 

Like everything else
in my selective existence
the terrors of the day
can be compartmentalized
and washed away
with the soothing balm
of repetitive denials

Needless to say

it takes great effort
not to let the horrors

of the seeping truth
closing in on us all
penetrate my encasement
of happiness bubble wrap

You may smugly say

this false sense of security

will drown us all eventually

but with a little fake buoyancy 

it won't be today

 

Perfect Violence

 

Our Empire may be in decline

from self inflicted madness

but this does not mean we lack

entertainment deflections

(Cue spotlight)

Ladies and gentlemen...

The final act
at the Wonder Bread and Circuses
Festival of Carnage
as always features
that legendary executioner
Maximus Repressive

Ten dangerous dissidents
precisely targeted
will achieve instant martyrdom
at the bloody sword
of our favorite
Make Rome Great Again gladiator

Scapegoat burgers will be sold

in the freshly painted golden ruins 

at the bargain price

of what's left of our national soul

Two Steps Back

 

All the previous legislation
to combat the scourge of racism
and institutional prejudice
gets chipped away by the day

Past hard fought victories 
over hatred and ignorance
were hollow indeed
since these insidious forces
are today the mother's milk
of the current administration's

war against social evolution

Welcome to regression

Gonna take years to clean up this mess

Respect the Streak

 

Every day

is a spin of the wheel

A roll of the dice

in the crap shoot of life 

Best push your chips in
with brazen confidence

The odds never favor
those who gamble
with that tramp Desperation

But please be advised
Lady Luck
is a volatile mistress
who cruelly punishes
winning streak arrogance
if you take for granted

even for a minute
this fickle vixen
and treat her
with any hint of disrespect

She will dump your ungrateful ass

then hop in her limo

that only winners get to ride

after she has bled Loser you dry

Spin Cycle

 

I am

The Rationalization Man

Grand Master of Spin

Connector of transitions

Twister of narratives

Armed with a creative

mishmash philosophy
for every occasion
to power my vast array 
of coping devices
I need to survive
my oft senseless life

Chaos can be contained
but never ever tamed

Respect all that is broken

for it was once whole

Just like we used to be

Sodom and Gomorrah Reboot

 

We as a species can be
so full of ourselves

Our human breed
so recently evolved
in the grand scheme

Forever primitive
at heart

Neanderthal urges
seep through
our civilized veneer
unrestrained

and yet...

because we
currently dominate
we craft
thoughts and lofty
philosophies

from atop the food chain
while our hubris
proclaims
the absolute divinity
of man

Masters of all we survey

The known
and unknown too

Centuries
of theology
now dismissed
as bullshit voodoo

Today we pray
from the prayer tablet
of scientific schematics

Flow chart
rationalizations
dominate every conversation

As if we can logically
analyze all the daily
calamities of modern life
we have created

Answers never
to be found
within the confines
of spreadsheet analysis

Cause our arrogance
won't allow us
to accept
you never
ever
pick a fight
with God

There are no random accidents

Every tragedy comes
with a divine price tag attached

Just fire and brimstone
payback retribution
cast down
at we of misplaced faith
as the pissed off Lord
goes old school
on his petulant children

A Tale of Two Calendars

 

We slaves to tech
always check
the pixel stream
of our omnipresent flat screen
to verify the time
down to the micro second

Every day
wears a number
assigned by the calendar
way before
the advent of the machine

Do you recall
when months used to hang
quite primitively
from kitchen walls?

Each flat date
neatly squared
and assigned
so you could 
squish notate
reminder events

Life sure did seem
to move much slower then 

Yesterday rolled
Stone Age technically
yet in a quaint
bucolic Norman Rockwell sense

I do so miss this lost 

inefficient innocent existence

Looking Down on Myself

 

I never trended
like I did
when I was suicidal

Never felt more alive
and validated
out on the ledge
looking down
on my fellow
desperate peasants
begging me not to fly

Cause I can't you know

Though their pleas

for me to respect

the power of gravity

was all for show

Those voyeur bastards

with their hand held

recording devices

pointed in my direction

were aching for me to leap

Praying their posts go viral

and they become flash stars

on the social media platform

For that moment of glory

over my dead body

Tragedy always trends

But fuck them

if they think

I will accommodate

their ghoulish needs

to aid and abet

their second hand

fame quest

based on my bloody death

I'd rather die alone

in my bed anonymously

then have my squashed corpse

be clickbait

for attention starved strangers

every bit as pathetic as me

Sparklers in the Rain

 

... and the Gods cried 
when Prometheus
the original tech icon
stole flame
and gave man a chance
to culturally advance

Fire changed everything ...

Providing warmth and comfort
from the harsh elements

That glow of security
which illuminates
the dreaded night

Fire changed everything ...

Searing heat
forging the swords

Newer and better weapons
of quick efficient destruction

Implements perfected
for the tearing of flesh

The flame lit torches
to let us pillage and burn
our charred enemies

Create a funeral pyre
rising to the heavens
to honor our recently dead

Fire changed everything...

For better for worse

A blessing and a curse

In many ways
fire is like love
the flames which consume
is such a wondrous creation

Wreaking blazing devastation 
and exquisite beauty
throughout the inferno of human history

We the bastard offspring
of heat based generation

The sparkling legacy
of Prometheus and Aphrodite

These terrifying contradictions

Both splendidly deadly addictions

We can't seem to live without

Suck It

  

Scattered socks and shoes
strewn across my floor
on my debris art canvas

Shredded clothes clutter the scene
melding with container remnants
of devoured deliveries past
as my vacuum lies dormant
in the corner
cursing my reckless sloppiness

Powerless to perform
its designated task
to conquer this accumulated mess

Any one obstacle 
could certainly clog
the narrow suction chute
designed ingeniously
to bag loose dust particles

I know I gotta get off my planted ass
and somehow clear a viable path
to unleash the dust sucking beast
and reclaim my next to godly cleanliness
lest my very existence be condemned
for the life crime of abject messiness 

Served Well Done

This plea

may get me kicked off the team
but I am sick of the mindless
reflex acrimony 

of the current combat politics

Just once in our bitter existence
can we choose the high road
and praise our sworn enemy
when they manage to get something right?

Maybe a little positive reinforcement
will someday be returned
and this cosmic rift between us
can commence to be resolved

Hatred need not be binary

Marriage Apocalypse

 

Off we trudge to therapy
in one last ditch effort
to fill in our rift
with well meant
couple's analysis

Alas..

This gaping chasm
the depth of the Grand Canyon
took decades to excavate
and will not be filled
with three court mandated
45 minute sessions a week
to salvage our sunk relationship

We should sell tickets

to our bloodletting sessions

as a forewarning public service lesson

to those considering marriage

The Can Knots

 

Here in Stagnation
the story line
does not advance

The plot
is stuck in neutral
as we rev our engines
yet go nowhere

Fear of progress
is the derailing intent
of those status quo bozos
with all their obstructions
and unreal expectations

designed to inhibit

our natural evolution

Teen Beat

 

She hurts inside
yet no one believes

Probably a teen
angst thing

She'll outgrow it

Pay her cries
no mind

You know how
hormonal teens can be

How could
an innocent kid
harbor that much misery?

Found her Daddy's gun
in an unlocked drawer

Made for another 
awful news blip

She's gone now

Just one more
teen suicide stat
that no one took seriously
until after the tragic fact

  

Supplying Demand

 

We broke into the iron compound

formerly impregnable 
to steal what we could fence

Their motion sensors
rendered useless

by our cleverness
cause we are high tech pirates
and they be no match
for our 21st Century toys

The dinosaur panicans

just spent a fortune
on the latest anti theft gadgets
that we sold them at a premium
as we profit from both ends
of the criminal market

we create

then prevent

then break again

Gotta love Vulture Capitalism

Absorption

 

GO TIME

Yet again

Why?

Don't ask

This is inevitable

Fate based

Divine creation

Why not?

Submerge logic based reservations

Drown contentions

This is acceptance

This is compliance

Thank you for your capitulation

Dust Bin Eulogy

 

Our bodies
are but biodegradable shells

bobbing in a churning sea

that stretches past forever

But of course it doesn't

There's always an end point

Dust to dust someday
though our actions
here on Earth
will linger
far beyond the grave

You and I
have more impact
on the stream

that feeds Eternity
than it seems
even though
after we are through
we footnotes
won't be in any position
to hear our reviews

Go Bold or Stay Home

 

The Lunar Obstructionists
craft a blueprint for the eclipse
as a statement protest
of it's illumination suppression
by oblivious solar power merchants

What ignorant 
reactionary commentator 

opinionated fools
view as a radical act of betrayal
is in fact
the only way
the desperately oppressed
can ever get a sliver
of global attention

And spare me

the going through proper channels

means of addressing grievances bullshit

These were long ago tuned out

Aggressive activism

is the only effective way

these fragmented 

communications days 

Venom Depleted

 

Sorry kids..

I have no grievances to share today

No need
for your comfort or pity

I know that public contentment
in this pit of mutual 
misery loves company discontent
is considered a betrayal
to the core tenet
of mass bitchiness etiquette
but my Complaint Department
is closed permanently

No need anymore
to collectively fret

Life's too frickin short

At least it is now for me

Do not curse my absence
my gloom and doom friends

Plenty of other
misery loves company outlets
where you can group convey
communal shared outrage
across this bitchfest
unsocial media stage

Sealed Bliss

 

I like my onions pickled

Vacuum sealed

in the finest brine

Damn those pink ribbons

taste mighty fine

Freshness is always the intent

Fighting the forces of spoilage

that compromises all content

as time and environment

conspire to wreck

the perfect carnivore condiment

Letting Go

 

I loved my addictions
like feral wild children
whom I have adopted

As I watched them grow
they became a part of me

Overwhelming my identity

Smothering already shaky self esteem

Death by physical indulgence

So survival instincts decreed

I had to let my loves go

One by one they moved on
til all that's left behind
are wisps of haunted memories

One part warm dream

Two parts frigid nightmare