Wish Upon a Tarnished Star

 

How long shall we stay
now that the spell has waned
on the Magic Kingdom
where spectacular enchantment
was once upon a time
celebrated as a cottage industry?

Somewhere along the way

the quaint innocence

of It's A Small World After All

mutated into an overpriced shopping mall

We can blame
the greedy wizards
for us today rolling so cynically

though maybe Mickey
the fault is not in our stars
but in ourselves 

The Bewitched Man

 

My angel bride

awoke with a craving

Not for me of course

We don't do spontaneous sex

The fair enchantress

of my dreams

desired a cappuccino

at four in the morning

In this relationship

her every wish

no matter how insignificant

is my fervent command

Don't believe the marriage myth

that the give and take split

is always 50/50

So I leapt to my feet
and ventured out
into the cold darkness

to find an all night Starbucks
to satisfy her caffeine fix

Whenever I feel

the pangs of resentment

for being taken advantage of

I count my nuptial

better or worse blessings

True her love spell over me
can be a Hellish slavery
but damn my demanding wife
sure looks fine in black

Rosebud Us

 

Father Time
scattering the seeds
of future history
over the barren landscape
of fertile humanity

Relics will grow
to be studied
and analyzed
by those
who feel the need
to dredge up yesterday

We fledgling seedlings
all contribute
to the grand tapestry
of human history
in our minuscule way

Centuries from now
long after we are gone
when unborn
curiosity seekers
climb our family trees
our existence
will be a mystery
to be debated
and speculated on

So take heed
my contemporary friends

We ultimately
be the gardeners
of our destiny
and in the end
when all is said and done
the harvest we reap
will define the entirety
of how our generation's
label gets mass applied

and pigeonholed 

by lazy ass historians

Dead Meat on a Stick

 

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 pious
he died for our sins bullshit

I'm not buying
that stained glass narrative

In the end
our predator pack
did what we always do

Read our bloody history
and weep
as time and time again
we execute the prophets of peace
for preaching love and equality
to the cheers of the gullible mob
manipulated by the scared overseer beasts
threatened by any philosophy
which threatens their control

They will decree the messenger
gets slaughtered eventually
by any means necessary

Cause you see
violence is so ingrained in our DNA
we butcher those who dare seek
evolutionary acceleration
of this knuckle scraping species

Waste Land

 

My Country tis of thee

Toxic land of anarchy

WHAT A WASTE

Correction:

WHAT A FUCKIN WASTE

The FUCKIN is for EMPHASIS

Cause I am pissed
about this current shit

And so should you be

For if we persist
on this stupid trip

down the partisan abyss
there won't be much left

for you FUCKIN zealot twits

to be pissed about anymore

WHAT A FUCKIN WASTE

of a country once great

Ponder Beyond Yonder

 

At any given time

in this existence

somewhere in the expanse

of this spinning planet

the sun is shining bright

Take solace in rotation

and embrace the inevitability

of ever changing circumstance

Time is a river that flows

The Universe is never static

Neither are those dark clouds

that seem perpetual

currently enveloping your soul

We know they are not

but too often we grow

to accept our misery

as a natural state

of hard wired fate

The blues do not have to be 

It's up to you

to flip your script

Do you want to? 

Revolting Peasants

 

One look around
and I instantly knew
I was in the wrong part of town

A displaced refugee
now an endangered species
about to be planted
with all the other victims
by the heartless enemy
known by the scared inhabitants
as Poverty

I will not be the last to fall

into this unfortunate circumstance

currently beneath your oblivious sight

In fact soon we will be the majority

from which revolutions ignite

Gropey Boys

 

These be dangerous times
for touchy feely guys

Those hands on types
with their probing fingers
and groping hands
of questionable affection

Where once they were just
roll your eyes inappropriate
today they can be charged
as criminal pervs

Not easy being creepy anymore
though being a misogynist dick
is no longer disqualifying
in MAGA approved
patriarchy based politics

Push and Pull

 

On the brink of political elimination

No respite from the tension
of this perilous push back situation

Riddled with the corruptions
of our morally bankrupt leadership
is seriously undercutting
our forever tenuous
emotion driven positions

Bluster and bluff
can only take you so far
in this fact check Age of Tech

We the dwindling legion
of anti social evolution zealots
know that time is the enemy
as the forces of progress
breach our formerly entrenched lines

Perhaps we have one
desperate counterattack left
in our grievance arsenal

History has come to bury us
but we are not without resources
and a passionate base of useful idiots
to do our mass communications bidding

Disinformation remains our best defense

 

End Gaming

 

Fret not

my worrisome friends
about your legacy

after you end

Once we fall permanently

out of rotation
we'll be relieved

of all these nagging aggravations

No one will sing odes 

over our life history
for the dusty bones

in the ground we will be

Joining all the other faded names
in forgotten cemeteries

from past centuries
in the midst of oblivion

Carpe Diem Damn It !!

Write Up Call

 

The crushing tedium
that suffocates
this life mundane
pales in comparison
to the deep darkness
of the grave 

While we are in play
for our time allocated
in this drive thru existence
we get to choose
from a very limited menu
posted in chalk
on the indifferent wall

So let's make the most
of this opportunity
to craft a best selling 
auto biography
and blast away
the monotonous exasperation
of our current life stagnation

May as well savor
every Carpe Diem flavor
dropped on our plates
to provide bored mourners
with some amusing
small talk anecdotes
to kill the dead time
at our future boo hoo wake 

Life Affirming

 

He couldn't be found

Neither could she

A double M.I.A. mystery

Catty rumors did abound
that the fiery pair
ran off somewhere
for a passionate affair
far away
from the whispering tongues
forever looking down
on their lust connection
with the envious glances

only those

in miserable relationships

can dispense

A few days later

there was a tropical post

from the happy couple

on the church chat page
with the mocking caption:

BON VOYAGE SUCKERS !!

Ouch.. 

Boomer Casualties

 

Blew off my hand
cause I chose not to understand
the whole fuse length concept
as it relates to explosives
ignited with minimum respect
for the power of combustion
and the attached time element

Now that I'm a bloody mess
I gotta deal
with complex
hand less consequence
which will negatively impact
my future hand held device performance

Just another gaping wound to patch
as the immutable truth gushes out
that accidents are destined to happen
to ignorant children who play with matches
left out by those with a sinister mindset

The Hatched Man

 

The escapee

who managed to flee

this existence

could not be found
cause he didn't want to be

For you see
location displacement is OK
once the Search Party realizes
the utter futility
of positional enforcement
on truly liberated souls
these thought restrictive
mind control days

run by the mighty algorithm

Time Bubble

 

Looking back
in retrospect
as is my habit
these dwindling days
I do suspect
that my mid life crisis
occurred 
June 15th 2007
at half past six

I thought it was gas
from something I ate
but at second glance
it was just another

unwelcome time belch

Minimal Response

 

One glance
at my smoking phone
and I knew
a fiery text from you
had just dropped
like a flaming anvil
on my fair head

I weighed my various options
of possible defense responses
and chose deletion
without even reading

the piercing accusations
as the best chance
of keeping
our ever tenuous peace

Off the Cross

 

He couldn't be found
with the living
so we ventured
to the Skid Row
ghost section
of our broken city
among the loose hookers
vomit stench drunks
and strung out junkies
for a crucifix in a haystack quest
to find the missing Father Willy

If by some miracle

and the grace of God bullshit

the absentee cleric is found

we will sit his stoned ass down

and hear his confession

of all the fun sins he did commit

while on his latest hedonistic bender

Once he is cleaned up and dried out

he can resume his pastoral duties

and dazzle us sinners every Sunday

with his fire and brimstone hypocrisy

Pull the Plug

 

My current residence
is that cramped space
between
doing what's expected
and what's right

I live in this disconnect

Playing the rote
caregiver role
for an ailing parent
who does not want me there

My very presence

driven by guilt avoidance

he rightfully finds offensive

for it's such a blow to his pride

which the sickness 

has slowly stripped away

He wants to privately die

No longer be a pitiful burden

Away for the vigil boo hoo hoopla

of the getting the jump on death

soon to be somber mourners

who drive the thriving death industry

Never was much
for social propriety

Neither was I
once upon a time

when I used to be
my Father's son

He'll be back with his late wife

soon enough

and I will resume what's left

of my disconnected life

The Gray Ghost

 

I am
a shadowy apparition
drifting above the confinements
of this black and white sphere

From the elevation

I can view the forest

through the trees

Subtle nuances I see
cutting through the fog 
which envelopes
your so called reality

These chains
of human conformity
forged by the powers that be
never seemed to quite fit me

Yes my pets

I am the gray ghost
of transparency
flying loose and free
in the open skies
of my unrestrained poetry

White Noise Lullaby

 

Look down beneath your feet
into the ashes of post calamity

Welcome to the wreckage of me
buried deep beneath
this pile of smoldering defeat

Smothered in a heap of self pity
I seek respite
from this scorched self inflicted tragedy

And yet things could always be worse
as I soothe my soul
with time tested trite cliches

Pour your fallen comrade
a shot of liquid Novocaine

For at the end
of yet another disastrous day 
pain is the beast
that needs to be restrained
even if living in denial
is the only way

Breaking It Down

 

Outside my current window
hangs a massive
solitary icicle
glistening in the sun
that today brings no warmth
but still produces 

a spectacular spotlight

On the tip
of this sparkling stalactite
is a steady drip drip
so very soothing and rhythmic

With each liquid emission
there is structure shrinkage
that I really relate to

in my current state 

of timeline reduction

This natural contraction

of time honored erosion

that carved out the canyons

and whittled down the pyramids

works on all organic

and inorganic designs

Can you feel

the Beautiful Recycle force

drip drip working on you?

Time Out

 

Time..

Time is our safe place

A secure vault of memory
deposited currency
where we can escape
this all too real reality

In the end 
the past is all we have
as the light begins to withdraw
and life closes our account
taking our allotted time with it

Dominating Melody

 

The beauty of my master mistress
whose razor thumb
I have taken up residence under
is the way she violently plucks
my heart strings
with her every command
that I willingly submit to
just on the off chance
she will grace my groveling presence
with her agony inducing affections

She's my First Lady of Pain

Within the Storm Wall

 

I was born in the storm
and died in the recoil

In that time gap between
commonly defined
as life and death
the truth too often
gets obfuscated
and eventually obliterated
by our personal cumulus shroud
of convenient self deceptions
that keeps the inherent
gloom of the day at bay

Happiness is all about

maintaining the illusion

of calm skies these turbulent days

Requiem For a Used Up Man

 

Back in the 20 Century

I was a useful tool

I was a husband

A father

A worker bee

Not so today anymore

Now I am more of a burden actually

Not even remotely cost effective

My revelation to you

for maximum mental health benefit:

It's much better to be useful

than useless

Fact Check Out

 

The spotlight cuts through the dim

Into it the salesman 
from yesterday swaggers in

Another slick pitch

fine tuned over time
to lure in the pigeons

But it's a different flock today

Fact checking his every pitch

real time on their hand held devices

Still our hero keeps dancing 

Though it's not easy selling
to skeptical consumers

who ain't buying

And when your financial existence

is based entirely on commission

this is a fatal condition 

for the well dressed dinosaur

who had no clue he was dying

So it went

for the salesman once great

Extinction by internet

was his inevitable fate

Hit and Myth

 

Through the dark forest
of enchantment history  
the hunter of mythology 
stalks his prey 
with the empirical precision
of a modern high tech predator

Oblivious target in sight 

Piercing red laser beam

Rifle blast shatters the serene

Unicorn drops in a heap

It's quivering carcass
gushing rainbow blood

An efficient termination
of what very well could be
a species extinction

Dragons weep
over their slain friend
and vow revenge
on all those
murderous cynics
who seek to snuff out
their very mythical existence

Picture This

 

HEY LOOK !!

Another boo hoo comedy
playing on Stage Humanity

Get the money pic shot
before the moment leaves
and becomes subject
to unreliable memory

Post it as public affirmation
into the cybersphere
that you were there
and that you matter
in the grand scheme

Cause we all need
a little human validation
now and then

Though as passive spectators
we are not compelled
by posting laws unwritten
to ever do participation 
lest we too get stained
by the carnage of history
and risk losing the objectivity
of gawking silent voyeurs 
intent more with perfect focus
than any sense
of personal involvement 

in the tragedies 

looping on our flat screens

Out of the Cold

 

I was born in the storm

of an infernal creation

A lone pup on the cusp of frostbite

Listen up

my frozen bitches:

When you got no coat

shivering in the cold 

of yet another endless night
this harsh dance with consequence
should make a lasting impression
if you bother paying attention
to the eternal relationship
between cause and effect

It's rarely fair

So don't expect it to be

Injustice don't care

But it needs not always win

if we persevere

and take the hurricane head on

with the goal of making it better

a little bit each day