Labor Pain

 

Hi Ho

Hi Ho

It's off

to gainful employment we go

We trudge in

Punch in

The clock hits back

Years accumulate

Deeper we slide
into the cubicle pit 
of corporate irrelevancy

That sinking truth

we masters of denial

slap on to apply

like a tourniquet

to stem the flow of self doubt

Weighed down daily
by maddening

process inefficiencies

Errors saturate our reality
but the salary they pay
to our accounts semi monthly
still rules the day
buying off our loyalty
and degraded pride

for a bargain price

Keep the Faith

 

Believe it or not
I walked on water
back in the day
when I was an acclaimed
bonafide miracle man

Just one of my many exploits
celebrated far and wide
as proof positive
of the power of faith
and infinite possibilities

Maybe you have heard
of my legend
passed down through generations
increasingly desperate
for any kind of inspiration

Of course
that was way before
science advised me
and my congregation
that my very existence
was a quantified impossibility

So the world plunged
into it's current abyss
of negative secular reality

Begetting a grim restless population
chafing at their assigned
slotted limitations

But no matter
how the skeptics
and naysayers
have chosen to dismiss me
I reside in the collective souls
of those who won't be opinion bullied

Far beyond the rigid controls
of empirical thought tyranny

They know what I used to be
and more importantly
all that I stood for

Impossible as it may seem today

Those who dare remember 
know my improbable truth 
before I was consigned
to the status of foolish myth

Faith is an equation
that can't be erased

or summarily dismissed

Gulping Up

 

There exists in this existence
two distinct
consumer types
in the common quest
for human sustenance

Those who sensibly sip
to savor every taste

for maximum satisfaction

of the discerning palate

These smug denizens

of discriminating propriety

perpetually analyzing

the foamy quality

of their favorite mocha lattes

On the other end

of the consumption spectrum

are the blue collar 

ravenous gulpers
seemingly in a race
to get to the end of it

I must confess

you will find me on Team Gulp

We who roll with indigestion
as penance for our impatience
will belch

in your condescending face
if you dare lecture us

about our impetuous 

life choices 

Paste Out of Tube

 

At the end of this life sentence
it makes no difference
if you were a patriot or dissident

The page will be turned
on you and your disposable kind
as the godless guardians
of chaos opinion
let in the fresh edition
to do battle down in the pit
for the gladiator carnage
and mass entertainment
of the spectator legions

who don't give a shit

about the anonymous

spent deflection fodder

who served their purpose 

Looping Stupidity

 

When one studies
the torn tapestry of history
it's fairly obvious reality
that time and time again
the tyranny of the majority
and the controlling myth
they always know best
is a recurring theme

which often plants the seeds
of mass tragedy

Strength in numbers
may well be an undeniable force

but when viewed

through the unbiased lens

of retrospection clarity

it is plain to see

that collective might

does not always make right

Remember this historical fact

the next time

one of the bleating sheep crew

tries to shame recruit you

for thinking differently

from the uni thought herd

stampeding toward the cliff

Princess Toe Jam

 

Once upon a time
in a diabolically
demented
fairy tale
the Delusional Prince
of Blue Balls
soon to be 
the Disillusioned Twit
when he finally realizes
the whole glass slipper myth
he has vainly
been seeking a foot to fit
is solely bullshit

Seems our shot down hero
who most of us frustrated incels
can sadly relate to
is perceived as relationship poison
cause he does not check
all the bitch Princess boxes 

Now that the hook up clock

has struck midnight

it's back to pumpkin patch reality

Back to cynical transactional hookers
and the explicit porn site
voyeur existence for him
where he will have plenty of company

The moral of this tragic story?

Banners of standards
are there to be lowered

Ink Blotting

 

The times

they may be a changing

The cloud

where all knowledge

now resides

is a parting

as access streams

rain down

from the Data Sphere

on our algorithm silos

But not me

I remain a parchment based

literature saturated anachronism

with my quill pen

scribbling furiously

against the AI created winds

of a binary digital world

which would mock

my antique creative process

assuming the Master Server

even knew

or cared

that this insignificant

flawed human existed

past or present

Selective Justice

 

Once again
I find my perplexed

incarcerated ass
on the receiving end
of a legal precedent
forged by ancient
Judeo Christian restrictions
no longer culturally relevant
but still codified in written law

It's all about control these days
with enforcement
of such selective

state sponsored oppression

One of the many clever

diabolical ways

those who own the levers

stay on top of dung heap

through creative deflections

that serve as a perfect

scapegoat shield

away from their own very real

criminal illegalities

Out of Conversation

 

Today in the scrolling news...

The infamous rambunctious man
of limited filtration
and minimum intellect
never disappoints
when asked his views
that always skew
consistently unhinged

Critics predictably
jump all over the maniac
for his irrational rants
tinged with careless
imprecise language
but you know deep down
this deplorable demented clown
will be secretly missed
by these very same critics

This force of darkness
who thrives on conflict
has long been
the focal talking point topic
for these opinion dispensers
whose product while rationally conceived
always lack the sheer entertainment value
of Public Nuisance Number One

What will these chattering pundits
have to communally fret about
when their go to monster is gone?

For even a constant

slow steady pain

is preferable to the agony

of crushing monotony 

Interpretative Poetry

 

Deep in the daily mixture

of space and time
we see the faint outline
of a blurred picture
that represents
the fluid concept
of spent history

Subject to various interpretations
and all the pitfalls 
of modern miscommunication

We all weave

a our own unique tapestry
of tightly wound threads
destined to unravel
into a far different iteration

than our original best intentions

Damnable Me

 

Went to see the busy bishop
for moral restoration
and potential eternal salvation
of my rapidly degrading soul

His grim sister receptionist
doing her screening duties
encouraged me to first pray alone

and then come back tomorrow

when they would not be there

to hear my confession

Then she picked up the phone
and ordered take out
leaving spiritually wanting me
deprived and hungry

on the cold cathedral steps

with only my disillusionment

to keep my now faithless ass warm

Back Dropping

 

Just because I was wrong
on certain issues of my times
based on today's

evolved 21st Century philosophies
applied through the prism of history
does NOT necessarily make me
the monster you wanna assign me to be

This is not meant as a lame rationalization
or desperate defense of past
systematic state sanctioned offenses

All I am saying is best temper
across the board subjective judgements
you wanna roller brush paint apply
within the context of my times

So stop poking us ghosts
with lazy stone throwing
blanket accusations
that offend your pearl clutching
cultural sensibilities 
lest we rise from our rumbling graves
and start haunting
your current wide spread hypocrisies
(of which there are many)
that will be future fodder inspection
for archaeological outrage dissections

Wreck Prejudice

 

Those America First bastards
who benefited economically
from a fortunate
birth place geography
blabber on incessantly
about their cultural
and racial superiority
they contribute zero to

In fact these Klan misfits
are a constant embarrassment
to the ghosts
who forged this great country

Gotta still respect

the clueless zealots

free speech rights

under the First Amendment

but these prejudiced mutts

are some day gonna find out

that those who peddle hate

under the guise of patriotism

will eventually get crushed

like all the other fascists of history

Over Thy Line

 

Bang the drum again

Time to defend

invisible boundaries
drawn in the sand

Ghost barriers man made

Artificial contrivances
men have fought to own
over the bloody centuries
under the pretense
of nationalism..

Religion..

Ideology..

A false sense of cultural superiority
under the forever over utilized
guise of national security

Follow the money blood trail
that sells these false rationalizations
to an easily riled populace
ready to lay down their lives
for (fill in the blanks)

The names and faces
of these endless
defensive aggressions
get blurred and buried
by the indifferent winds of history

A force that does not give a shit
about the vagaries of geography

All it leaves behind
are the cold carnage stats
from assigned casualty sheets
stored deep in dusty war archives
to be regurgitated and celebrated
in glorious propaganda tales
of the future heroes
indoctrinated children
can grow up to be
when they get tapped
to lay down their lives
for God and Country

Life on the Median

 

There comes a time
in every life
when we achieve the tranquility
found in that glorious moment
of pure epiphany

When we finally
accept the by now obvious reality
that we will never be
a famous celebrity

No autograph hounds

No quote seeking
media dogs
or obsessed
groupie sycophants
who worship
and debate
our every utterance

Not even
a cheesy TV
teary eyed retrospective
when we die

Welcome to the humdrum
easily replaceable majority

Where true happiness
is the acceptance
that success in life is measured
in sustained survival
which leads eventually
to grudging contentment

Being that steady
spinning little cog
on which the wheel
is so dependent

Finding our slotted acceptance
in this too brief existence
on the median of the ordinary

Snug in the cloak of anonymity
now worn comfortably
as together we roll
down the middle lane
of mass mediocrity

Knowledge is Power

 

Research scientists
here at The Institute for Humanity
working diligently
on finding a cure
for intolerance and bigotry
have reached the unanimous conclusion
that the solution
to ignorant thought pollution
is widespread education

The pursuit of knowledge
from an early age
right up until the grave
is still the best path
to be an enlightened citizen
and fulfill the Social Contract

This is how we ultimately
defeat the demons
who for too long have owned us

The light of truth
pushes out the darkness

Scientia potentia est

Clean Up On Aisle Us

 

The weekend was ENORMOUS

The party one continuous blast

The mayhem rolled

out of control

as the libations flowed

deep into the defenseless night

But of course the merriment

given bodily consumption limitations

was unsustainable 

as one by one

the compromised players

staggered off the stage

Alas

the morning after came

and all had to be restored
to the order it was before

Don't blame me

These are the rules

of responsible adulthood

as the ghost of my Mom's voice

echo in my pounding head

"This mess won't clean itself up!"

Hence we commence the sad task
of a solid day of domestic chores

Scrubbing away the stains
but hopefully not the memories

of unbridled fun

Keep the good ones

and trash bin the rest

Let the real after party commence 

The Blind Visionary

 

Last night I saw
the light
in the darkness

Tis not a contradiction
if you can escape
these suffocating prison confines
condemned to a life sentence

of living literally

Be that enlightened spatial creature
who can expand dimensionally
and perceive the equation 

metaphysically

Only then is it possible
to see beyond the horizon
in it's glorious entirety
sans traditional ocular vision

Spilled Words

 

This poem
was misappropriated
from an impulse of a thought
that had zero business
ever being transcribed
and posted online

Now that the overflow shit
is out of the toilet
I am powerless to contain it

The distribution list
grows exponentially
much to my chagrin
since public humiliation
is the top spectator sport
of the 21st Century

Wish this damn delete button
that needed to get initiated 

pre blast off
wasn't so hopelessly broken

At least this allows me invocation

of the ancient rationalization

to utilize the classic failure alibi

of blaming the equipment

 

Swimming With Pessimism

 

The human optimist
I wish I could be
always carries
in their wallet
a sunshine light beam
as an antidote
to the disease
of melancholy
which can strike 

any of us anytime

My cynical brethren
who roll with the sniping majority
mock these light dispensers
because misery
not only loves company
it recruits it actively

I do so despise

being on this losing team

of bitter pessimists 

that reeks of negativity

which is only natural

given our self hating proclivity 

Heroes of Lore

 

... and at our lowest moment
when all seems hopeless
up from the bosom of yesterday
comes the legendary
Argento Man

Clad in florescent silver lamé
his flowing mane now totally gray
matches his fashion ensemble perfectly
as his evil adversaries
let out a collective groan

They are finished
and they knew it
for even they
deep down in their wretched souls
realize this ancient warrior
will not be corrupted
or compromised

by their arsenal

of assorted lecherous vices

that had sapped the powers

of all the morally flawed superheroes

they had vanquished before 

Once the villains are conquered

and their evil schemes foiled

Argento Man rides off into the sunset

to rejoin the other retired icons

whose noble deeds of heroism

with each passing year diminish

deeper into the shadows 

of lost and forgotten myths

Estranged Bedfellows

 

Of course you do realize
this alliance of convenience

and mutual contrivance
we share against
our common boogie man enemy
becomes null and void
once they are vanquished

Flushed with the arrogance

that comes with being victorious

we can then commence
to cease this pretend friendship
and start hating each other again

when this shotgun marriage ends

 

Pink Slip Tripping

 

Your once grand designs
have lost all relevance
here in the new spreadsheet existence

(formerly dismissed as pie in the sky)

Sorry we had to move the finish line
but you see
you are a pre historic luxury
we can no longer afford
given the condensed realities
of the new gig economy

Costs simply gotta be reduced

Our AI master program
demands that you
and your obsolete crew
have been duly consigned
by we labor redistribution task masters
to our exciting

Workforce Has Beens to be Jettisoned list

Nothing personal

It's just business

Thanks for playing
and please be a stranger

A Fool and His Dreams

 

The fool that is me

sprinkles seeds in concrete

Waters them with poetry

Waiting on a bounty
of false harvest fantasies

The fool that is me

Writes verse by moonlight

Crafting rainbows at night
that nobody sees

The fool that is me

Choking on self serving 
well deserved anonymity

So full of rage and blame
at his decaying dreams
slowly dying
on the toxic vines
of creeping reality

Choking off all delusions
that this sad author
is anything more
than just another
self delusional mediocrity
toiling the barren fields
of creative emptiness

Self Ghosted

 

As a fully documented

grown up human

it was time to make

a major life investment

Time to mortgage my future

on a primary homestead

with good old fashioned

debt accumulation

Got a haunted house discount

and moved right in

Best of all
there were no ghosts
in my fresh residence
(excluding myself of course)

Just dust and cobwebs

Easily refurbished
with cleaning solution
and a little elbow grease
which is more than can be said
for spiritually decrepit me

Spring Back Bounce Back

 

The gloom is a relentless

hue of seasonal gray

as the Arctic winds

sweep down over Harbor Bay

creating a chilled salty mist

that showers those of us

who dare venture out

into these cruel elements

The artificial intelligence

in my pocket

shares an interesting tidbit

(at least to me)

that the solar solstice
just came and went
in a blink of an eye

The position of the sun in the sky
remains perceptibly unchanged

Yet a critical cosmic shift
has subtly occurred
as daylight commences
it's long march back
toward dominance
to yet again reclaim the sky
from stubborn darkness

You cling to any shred

of thermal hope

when you can't feel your frickin toes 

Noisy Artillery

 

I long ago said
all I wanna say
but I'm gonna keep going anyway

Far past the point
of thought critical mass

I am obsessed
with hearing myself think
sans filters 
of push back consequence

For it's silence

and the attached

clawing self reflections

that cowardly me fears most

The terror of probing ghosts
now freed from the shackles
of the opinion deflections

that offer me protection

from the hazardous path

of contemplating my dark past

Hallow Goodbye

As the sun sets

and night creeps in

the howls that we fear

grow ever near

The evening of dread

is upon us now

as the shadows come to life

to take what is theirs

What started centuries ago

as a somber religious tradition

honoring souls long dead

has become corrupted

beyond all Earthly recognition

So now every All Hallows Eve
the hungry demons

in an array of clever disguises
pound on our barricaded doors
demanding sweet sustenance
in keeping with the scourge

of modern consumerism

We try to put the horde on ignore
by cowering in darkness
but their ravenous persistence
rules the night
as guilt forces us

to open our homes
and allow these little terrors

to devour and pillage

what was rightfully ours 

Now those of you enamored

by the tyranny of cuteness

will no doubt criticize

my sharing reluctance

as an act of selfishness

but while you are busy exchanging

the pics of this evening

I will be stuffing my face with sweets

for I am

and will always be

the toothless Grinch of Halloween

 

Creative Mixologist

 

All the best poems 
I have never written
float above me

like ethereal vapor
in invisible thought fragments
never creatively consummated

These clouds long forgotten
may someday bump together

and coalesce again
into a digestible format
to someday be potentially 

solidly processed
into a poetic concept
that hopefully makes sense
in this freshly refurbished version

Die Generation

 

Sugar and spice
your head in a vice

Morbid Misty

Dead eyed youngster
zombie child of Hell
plays with voodoo dolls
while chanting ancient incantations

Pulls the wings off flies

on her Tik Tok

influencer channel

to the sadistic delight

of her fellow online

macabre mites

Such a precocious little terror
is this soulless spawn of Satan

Part of the next generation
who will one day
put away childish things
and devour those who came before 
who today finds her 
little girl horror show
so cute and adorable
tied with a bloody bow
of "she's harmless"
fatal rationalizations
our future nightmare
will never outgrow

The New Imperialism

 

Our noble Real Estate King
in his glorious continuous quest
to acquire only the best 
high end properties
has tagged the Martian landscape 
as a HUGE
investment opportunity
for his personal financial

windfall profits

Rest assured
his five star hotels
are gonna be luxurious

and decadently opulent

in keeping with

the Master Builder's golden brand

Attracting only the best guests

of the highest quality
with his out of this world prices
to keep away peasant riff raff

from smudging the marble floors

with their commoner's presence

Clearing the land and pesky native aliens
is gonna be a costly endeavor
but we manipulated taxpayers
for the cause of greed patriotism
will foot the bill gladly
under the glorious banner
of national venture capitalism

Cynical Sauce

 

The point...

Why does there have to be one?

Or a moral to the story?

Shit happens for the sake
of happening

Random circumstance
should be celebrated
instead of being denigrated
by losers whining about fate

Bastards begat by bastard dicks

who were too selfish 
to wear a fuckin condom

I hate these pricks
almost as much
as I loathe myself
and my pointless 
self pity poetry

that is neither therapy

nor interesting

Clumps of matter

killing time

while taking up space

Just like us

Maybe that's the point 

Peter Pan MIA

 

The siren blares

Robbing me of dream completion

The abusive Clock I labor for
and it's authoritarian partner Economy
demand I yet again
don my battle gear

Into the fray
this weary warrior
trudges off 
to the spreadsheet battlefield
with only his diminished wits
as a survival shield
from the brain rot mentality
of corporate monotony

Far removed
from the playground anarchy
I walk by every day
on my way
to Big Boy Land

I seek a boost of energy
from the chaos I envy
of kids running and jumping
every which way

Feelings of melancholy
descend upon me
as their shrieks of joy
fade in the distance
the nearer I get
to my sterile cubicle prison

Imagination

Once so full
and unabashedly free
when we rode these swings

Dries up precariously
once we leave 
childhood games behind
to wear these burdensome chains
of adult responsibilities

Shields Down

 

A coaster and saucer
saunter into a bar
seeking flat surface hook up
with willing cups and glasses
on a table or counter preferably

where they get it on traditionally

Though both accessible platforms

do insist
on being on the bottom
of any fleeting

one on one relationship

Tonight our lonely heroes will find
diminished demand for their kind
in this selfish
residue tolerant existence
where stains are the norm

and safe contact

blemish prevention

is sneered at

Death by Arrogance

 

As the dominant species I am

I go wherever I damn well please

Out and about on a brisk hike

with Nature beneath my feet

to get the exercise I need

Came to a stream
I thought I could cross easily

So unassuming it was
in width and depth

No big deal if my shoes

got a little wet

But I misjudged
the power intensity
of the current
as mere inches of rushing water

took out my sliding feet
toppling this arrogant man
who hit his head on a stone
you could hold in your hand
and drowned in an obstacle
I failed to respect properly 

Space Oddities

 

Here in the invisible
to current human perception
fourth dimension
of galactic existence
we be parallel Universe tripping again

Baking a very illegal
atomic overlay
antimatter souffle
in a black hole pan
that few comprehend

Reverse Earth refracted
in the invisible
continuum mirror
is replete
with scary contradictions
many of which go against
the rigid laws of physics

The trip to enlightenment
ends far too soon
as it always seems to do

Welcome back to Nowhere

Our pitch black
prison home
tightly guarded
by dogmatic ignorance

As if protecting the ancient
rote inconsistencies
of how things "have always been"
is the exclusive 
dominion of truth

We take solace in the fact
that all it takes is one crack
in the soon to be crumbled wall
to let the light
of new reality flood in