I am different
Always have been
Even as a child
I only ate the bread crust
Had no desire
to be part of the herd
Popular fads of the day
held zero sway
Grew into a man
and still lived
off to the side
Guess I’ve never possessed
the fit in gene
required of a well adjusted
social being
So I am committed
(some would say condemned)
to walk the path
of a loner’s life
My solo destiny
here in solitary
to always be
outside the mainstream
As the world goes on without me
When she kissed her prince
there was zero electricity
No hormonal chemistry
that fairy tales demand
So she let him go
Even though
she loved him so
The perfect man
to be happily ever after with
Cast out for lack of passion
even though history knows
this heat can never be sustained anyway
Done in by finicky biology
All that remains
is her everlasting regret
for releasing
the happiness
that fell into her lap
Deep within this blaring intersection
hangs a man from a blood drenched cross
Looking forlornly down
on the pilgrims below
as they scurry madly to and fro
What was once
a tourist curiosity show
now a trivia question nobody knows
Part of the 24/7 scenery unseen
Melded into the mosaic of a society lost
Just another annoying city obstacle
we step over and around
As we mutter about urban clutter
The high cost of this existence
and all the attached consequence
So nobody bothers to take the time
to see humanity's greatest crime
Not one soul will be found
to help this wounded soul down
A slice of 21st Century selfishness
The new original sin
Use to walk on water
when I was an enlightened
bona fide miracle man
Then science advised me
my very existence
was a quantified impossibility
So I plunged
into the abyss
of negative reality
Just another victim
of assigned limitations
but no matter
how the skeptics
choose to dismiss me
I know what I use to be
and those who dare remember
know my improbable truth
before I was consigned
to the status of foolish myth
I do so envy
your cloud dwelling existence
Embracing all that loose
leisure time
the cerebral life affords
Soaking up the fine arts
Contemplating philosophy
Sipping your lattes
at the Ethereal Cafe
Tis no wonder
you float above
us mud dwelling types
who are forever destined to be
mired
in the desperate reality
your society ignores
Looking down
with the puffy bewilderment
only the out of touch share
So how's the fucking weather up there?
The tattered prince scrounges about
in the shadows of his former glory
seeking to recover
treasure from the trash
Cause you never know
what bargains you will discover
Beneath the vile pile he finds
a shiny slipper of glass
Peddles it on his E-Bay account
cause you never know
what folks will pay
for relics of the past
Connects with a lonely hearts type
who wires him a few cyber bucks
to seal the transaction
Takes the spoils
of his golden windfall
to the local dream dealer
who slips the freshly minted capitalist
a bag of magic beans to plant
His high growth investment
sprouts all the way
to the clouds and beyond
Now he aspires to be
a rich organic merchant
But the prince’s profits
quickly go up in smoke
When the EPA storms in
and shuts him down
Confiscating his little fairy tale fantasy
For it seems these days
you need
a license to harvest dreams
Post apocalypse
clean up crew
sifting through
the ruins of Hell
Reclamation angels find
beneath the toppled
neon Pandemonium sign
the charred remains
of a very dead Satan
His ambitious expansion plans
repelled by God’s army again
The Evil Empire
blown to Hell and back
and the Devil’s diabolical dream
of universal domination
now as over as he
We rose and exploded
as the neon lights
flashed a curtain call
for us all
Last song played
a melody of memories
as the bulldozers moved in
Glitter dome shattered
and the funky structure fell
on the stragglers
with nowhere better to go
Our grand dance floor now buried
under a million grains of stardust
a few actually tried to snort
Old habits die hard
All surviving disciples fled
the scene of the demise
Disco was dead
It was time
for us
to leave the womb
and grow up
KEEP OUT
Screams the sign
on the big ugly wall
we built
to restrain
the displaced unfortunates
who desire to breathe
freedoms air
that we no longer care
to share
Those desperate refugees
knocking at our door
seeking asylum
from horrific war
yearning to be free
in the land of liberty
like our forefathers before
when they fled poverty
and oppression
If they came today
they would be turned away
as scary aliens
looking to crash
the locked down USA
Deep inside
this snow globe swirl
intrepid Cupid rides again
Legendary hunter
of boys and girls
Now unleashed
on his annual
Valentine's quest
Bravely battling the elements
Struggling to do
his job with frozen wings
and greatly compromised visibility
Hazardous duty for
our hearty cherub
Cursing under his
frozen breath
about those romance scribes
always waxing poetic
about love finding a way
So easy for them to say!
Snug in their warm cafe
philosophical bunkers
Oblivious to brave Cupid
winging through the storm
Bringing much needed passion
to the jaded masses
Doing the hard job
he's forever been assigned to do
So if you see him
slogging through the snow
show the
little Valentine warrior
some much appreciated love
My God is WAY better
than your God
My prayers stream
on the only channel
that is received
My ancient book
is the ABSOLUTE truth
Your cult is pure subversive
with words that pervert
and offend the one true Lord
who rides shotgun with me
Our spiritual preeminence
can not
and WILL NOT be debated
So convert or get annihilated
You dangerous heathens
with your weird fake theology
and sacrilegious ways
must be destroyed
My God told me so
and as everyone knows
My God is way better
than your God
Most saints
were sinners once
Just like us
Tap dancing
up and down
on the spectrum
of morality
Flawed creatures
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 their mortal disintegration
to become the moral icons
and shiny medallions
celebrated today
So why the Hell can’t we
cast off our layers of sin
and find redemption
like those marble saints of yore?
I take my poison on the rocks
with just a dash of bitters
I love that feeling
of inner corrosion
that only
cleansing acid can bring
Dispassionately dissolving
all the accumulated crud
clogging up my pores
The flaw of course
comes when the sludge is gone
and the liberating solution
commences to eat away at my core
until what was good within is no more
Just another case study
where the cure
is worse than the disease
All the blurry people
live oblivious to the fuzziness
in their open ended residence
outside the narrow minded spectrum
of black and white existence
Choking on an atmosphere
of unrestrained philosophy
where clarity is a rarity
for multi layered thinkers
condemned to a creative life
removed from the rigid box
Burdened with depth are they
in this free flowing dimension
where truth is always questioned
and the rule of universal authority
of any benevolent deity
is challenged daily
When they start feeling lonely
about this intellectual existence
they convene at the nearest ostentatious cafe
armed with their pet theories
to debate endlessly the meaning of life
On one thing the blurry people do agree
The absolute reality of their superiority
as they mock and belittle the box residents
with a condescending smugness
that is nothing more than a smokescreen
for a deeply rooted longing and envy
they have for a world of thought simplicity
A safe haven of serenity
that celebrates the peace of mind
unwavering faith brings
A comforting trade off
for the burdens excess thought
