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
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
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
Don't tell me Jesus was not pissed
when that son of a bitch Judas
betrayed his bff with a kiss
And don't give me that
he died for our sins bullshit
I'm not buying that narrative
Our species did what we always do
Execute prophets of peace
throughout our bloody history
for preaching love and equality
to the cheers of the adoring beasts
who will slaughter the messenger eventually
Cause you see
violence is so ingrained in our DNA
we butcher those who seek
evolutionary acceleration
of this knuckle scraping species
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
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
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
I am
A latent sentimentalist
A closet traditionalist
My once rapier
cutting edge
has been dulled
by time
Tis the natural
erosion of age
as I tumble into
the tranquil pool
of reflection
over all things nostalgic
To dwell in the past
instead of residing
in these sad
middle age daze
where dreams
get buried
by the crushing weight
of adult reality
So here I am
Awash in memories
thumbing through
a dusty scrapbook
Reminiscing late at night
with my relentless enemy
who stares me down impassively
with timely efficiency
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
The blender
of a few well placed
electrical discharges
in our underutilized brains
is where inspiration
dances unrestrained
Creations of virgin purity
immaculately unstained
by doubt bombs
of internal and external scrutiny
The blueprint always
displays perfection
If only we could live
in this secure womb
of abstract excellence
Instead we gotta endure
these broken implementations
that perpetually leave us wanting
Forever seeking
the next future
unfulfilled inspiration
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
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
What if...
one day
in the history of your life
the skies parted
and the Lord poked
his omnipresent head through
the clouds and proclaimed
for all the scared sheep to know
that YOU were the Chosen One Part II
What would you do?
How to handle this upgrade?
I'm not sure
of the exact job description
but MESSIAH as a title
surely has a lot of perks
Comps wherever you go
Preferred parking
for your white limo
I wonder if celibacy
is still a required necessity
like it was
with the first edition dude
who got nailed to a cross centuries ago?
One would think this time around
such hardship restrictions would be lifted
given the all the modern day temptations
Verification of your true divinity
would be no problem in our tech age
given all us pilgrims have cameras
to post messiah miracles daily
Social media would explode
You'd surely be trending perpetually
All the gossip rags
would be working round the clock
dredging up all your buried skeletons
that occurred before your heavenly promotion
Doubters would be forever
looking for he hidden wires
determined to prove you a fraud and liar
Not to mention
incurring the skeptical wrath
of conspiracy theorists
who are eternally belief challenged
So would you accept
this complicated savior position
or stay the course
on your current civilian path
and leave the saving of souls
to the professionals ?
Cookie jar
sits on the counter
beyond the reach
of the hungry child
who strains
to achieve
instant gratification
that defines
the Now Generation
Patience rapidly
replaced by frustration
as sweet dreams
go unfulfilled
(an early taste of adulthood)
Most will scream
and cry for Mommy
who of course
will give their baby
what they need
if only to shut them up
so they can get back
to their secret
online romance
The special toddler few
will learn to use their heads
and find a way
to overcome the denial obstacle
with a chair
They will also find
satisfaction is multiplied
when you achieve the goal yourself
instead of having it handed to you
Examine the mirror
that reflects before you
Explore those surface imperfections
and forgive them all
These visual insecurities
our plastic society obsesses on
and modern advertising
harshly dictates culturally
Land mines strewn about
in the artificial fields
of this cosmetic prison
should never cast shadows
over your shining star
For ultimately
the image projects
you are only as beautiful
as you believe you are
I've never cared
about the nasty things
people say behind my back
or my front
for that matter
My self esteem
is self sustaining
and need not be fed
by the numerous dick heads
who pollute my existence
with their petty bullshit
By the way
the only assessments I value
are rendered by those
I love and respect
which so happens to be
an exclusive and minuscule universe
of a select few
of very few
Seeing is believing
here in this skeptical age
Proof positive is required
before commitment is made
Can't sell a concept sight unseen
Google now a prerequisite of belief
So how to wow the disciples of today?
Seems all the good miracles
were used up in antiquity
Well before the age
of modern communications
There's no analytic way
to verify biblical feats that defy belief
No one today can quantify
how the Miracle Man
changed water to wine
Cured the sickly
Beat death
For you see
Miracle Man had a plan
to wow the masses
so they would buy in
and listen to his far out speeches
Peace and love
Faith in that dream
straight to the heart
of God and man
Centuries later
this is why
the J Man is still a star
Not for the stunts
forever unproven
but for the message
of hope conveyed
This is his greatest miracle
that still resonates
in these jaded times
In an isolated
corner of Passion Street
my lips probe the source
of my raging desire
Hands sliding and caressing
seeking to find her button
waiting for that joyous moan
the arch of the back
slight buckling of the knees
anything
that gives me the proceed sign
If I move too fast
and prematurely unleash
my raging beast
she will surely recoil
and cast me into
the blue ball pit
where all prior
frustrated Lotharios are consigned
Failed cast offs
classified as shallow guys
who only sought
to penetrate her
luscious thighs
Which of course
is an accurate assessment
of ALL members
of my perpetually in heat gender
So I had to spend hours
plying her with
inhibition reducing drinks
Enduring her feminine
up and down
pop culture blabber
All to arrive at this
do or die moment
on the cusp of blissful completion
She directs this passion play
Gives me a naughty smile
and fiddles with her bra snap
that cries out for release
So is it coming off
or staying on?
Are we done with
this fucking foreplay???
God I hope she's not
another Satanic tease
insidiously designed to torment
me and my in heat breed
and drive us all
to the hooker side of town
Why can we not see
this life as a recurring theme?
Always racing to catch
the ancient force
Unseen but always there
Treadmill souls
on a long trek to nowhere
oblivious to the glorious periphery
spread out all around
but not viewed as vital enough
to merit precious attentions
As we ratchet up the speed
So intent on selfish conquests
The folly of false triumphs
that while they may
inflate our egocentric bottom line
ring hollow eventually
As the tick tock symphony
which started out ever so faintly
reverberating in our ears
as our constant companion
was mere background noise
during the early go go years
A secondary percussion player
providing a soothing beat
Then much to our surprise
we find ourselves gone
beyond the point half way
as Time,
now a deafening
growling storm
becomes the hunter
and we the wounded prey
The tale always ends the same
with minor variations to the story
TIME CONQUERS ALL
TIME ALWAYS WINS
So do as the old poetic cliche says:
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may
In the news today...
The Noble Knight of Dudley
who gained fame
during the Middle Ages
taming dragons
was arrested early this morn
in Ye Olde Skid Row
for wench solicitation
and possession
of illegal potions
The disheveled
former front man
of the long defunct Chivalry Gang
now reeks of grog
and unrequited regrets
A modern day victim
of mythological obsolescence
Well dressed
well connected peacocks
obliviously
step over and around
the tattered retread people
who fight to survive
on the crumbs that fall
between the cracks
of our cold city
Those with means
look down
on those tattered ghosts
with a disgusting touch
of condescending smugness
Never wanting to see
the empty faces of poverty
Cops are called
to sweep the riff raff out
under the guise of public safety
lest the tourists stay away
but in reality
they come to bury
our safety net hypocrisy
and hide society's shame
