Venn Settlement

 

The Great Mediator

The much needed voice of reason

Such the skillful negotiator

Deftly navigates
the many settlement impediments
by keeping his head
amongst the screaming inhabitants
of Contention Island

Blessed be this peacemaker

Off Ramping

 

Incompetence

We got it

Like a ball and chains

Hard to explain

How it perpetuates

Now normalized

Wrong is right

Institutionalized

Shadows now dominate

All is compromised

Turn out the lights

Now it makes sense 

Spun Dry

 

Today all the rationalizations
and daily alibis they create
have toppled the tipping point
of already strained credibility

Now that logic
has been obliterated
any and all pretensions
of rational adult debate
have been made moot
by their worship

of the absurd pronouncements

that drop from their clown king

When you blindly

follow the lead

of a demented pied piper

your off the cliff destination

is a fait accompli

Our current desperate mission

is to cling to the guard rails

and not allow the mad man

with his cult of scary minions

to take the remnants of our nation

down the abyss with them 

Death By Reality

 

Those who wanna believe
will always find a way
to cram any narrative

no matter how ludicrous
into their ever receptive heads

This is essential
for comprehensive cult absorption
be it political or religious

Death by piercing truth
they could not bend

or creatively manipulate
will be the Collective's

ultimate epithet in the end

Dwelling Orwellian

 

To get desired consensus
opinions need to be harvested
and clumped in tight batches

Weeding out all prickly dissent
which stray from the mean
is left to the creative devices

of the unleashed Thought Police

Once we have achieved
Oneness of Belief 
the People will be relieved
of the pounding headaches
from the delusion

that was freedom of choice

Only when this burden is lifted

will the conditioned masses be truly free

to be productive citizens

of our perfect

Utopian

Homogeneous State

 

Brush Wash

 

The artist I possibly could be
finally found a canvas pristine

I could be anything potentially

once doubt gets scrubbed away

Now all I need
is a paint brush clean

since the tools I have

are hopelessly

outdated and compromised

by the tyranny of time

Nothing comes easy
when the past is so stained
and inspiration wanes
like my diminishing days
til the rent goes past due

Then I must settle up
with my impatient landlord

staring back from the mirror
eager to padlock
my unfinished dreams 

Bored as Hell

 

Satan gets bored

Just like the rest of us

Puttering around

on a Sunday morn

Entertainment options limited

Obviously church is not an option

Underworld wifi reception non existent

The heat is Hellish and the AC busted

His room mates are all dicks

Evil gets old real quick

The same old atrocious bullshit

Life down there sure is a bitch

Just like it is up here

Only hotter and way more eternal

(sigh)

Oh well..

What's for lunch?

Saint Us

 

Most saints
were sinners once

Just like us

Tap dancing
up and down
on the slippery steps
of morality

Flawed creatures
all splattered with a variety
of wrong way violations

Yet they found the resolve
to overcome their core imperfections
and get their shit together
prior to mortal disintegration
to become the moral icons
and shiny medallions
we celebrate today

Granted redemption
ain't as easy today
with the wide spectrum
of creative temptations

But seriously
why the Hell can’t we
shed and offload some layers
of accumulated sin
and find salvation
like those marble saints of yore?

Buck Stop

 

Sometimes
in this binary
zero sum life
you gotta swallow
a dose of bitter pride

Accept the current reality

and take the loss

If not gracefully

then at least quietly

Suck it up and own the beat

Don't get
all defensive and pissy
when your enemies
dance on your calamity

They do this taunting jig

to provoke an angry reaction

that will make their victory

all the more sweet

You'll dance back at them someday

And lose the excuses
and childish rationalization
whataboutism comparisons

Just be a man

Be a FRICKIN ADULT

For once

Take the L

Move along

Do better next time

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