Shunned Squad

 

2..4..6..8..10..11

11?

Guess I'm the odd man out again

They tell me sorry

No match for me

Banished to the leftover pile
with all the other undesirable
unloved misfit mutants

Maybe social isolation

is a blessing

from such a shallow

cruelly judgmental

exclusionary environment 

I Am the Nutman

 

Little me

used to request constantly

to chef Mommy

not to include nuts

in with the brownie mix

My plea was always nixed

cause she controlled

the applied ingredients

that comprised the final product

she would create

An early valuable life lesson

served up on a plate

You can't always get what you want

You gotta learn to adapt

and make the best

of less than optimal situations

By the way

today I am

a steadfast nut man

A compromised product

of my childhood environment

Fly By Night

 

High in the irreverent sky
we flock of inebriated loons
flying out of formation

It's just one of those untucked nights
beneath the buzzing neon moon

Inhibitions are suspended

Rules of engagement upended

Social norms we are destined

to rationalize away
when natural urges take sway

Free styling all the way

Life is all about

accumulating laughs

to store as memories for sustenance

during future storms

No fretting about consequence
til the morning after
cleanup crew arrives
to shame and lecture
those of us hung over unfortunates
who somehow managed to survive
the moral busting carnage
of the liberating evening 

Hacker Attacker

 

The Hacker Attacker
has penetrated all firewalls !!

Infiltrated the master server !!

Damn that Network Infector !!

Curse the anonymous cyber assassin !!

Injecting viral chaos
over the now defenseless internet
as screens all over the globe
are now hopelessly locked

Communication sources severed

Our glorious tech devices
reduced to expensive paper weights

The fiend is wreaking web havoc
for reasons unknown
though authorities do suspect
the heartless genius rogue
is a pimply faced loner
operating out of Mom’s basement

It’s always the social outcasts
you have to watch out for
when their frustrations explode

Just another tragic case
of good brains gone bad

Freelance Dancer

 

Freelance dancer
putting down
moves on the floor
never seen before

Improvising performer
with the creative feet
has been known to fall
on his face
but that's OK

No harm done
cause the thrill
and possibility
of humiliating disaster
tis all part
of the freelance charm
to we wallflowers in awe 
of such unrestrained bravery

Plea For Mercy

 

You cut me to the core
when you malign my verses

They lack polish obviously
and often stray
from any semblance
of coherent thought
but gimme a break
it's my frickin therapy !!

Tis the only vent outlet I have
cause booze makes me puke
and mood meds
are just too damn expensive

So hate away
on my amateur poetry
but I would greatly appreciate it
if you could show some compassion
and do your literary critiques silently

Thank you for your attention 

Last Call Serenade

 

As our blurry retrospective
mercifully fades to black
the realization hits us
there's no going back

Yesterday can finally
be completely
unequivocally

buried

No more need
for these rose colored specs

Our delusional

eternity tokens

have all been spent 

Time to get ready
for the exit ramp up next
on the road to mortality

And so it goes my friends

All good, bad, and indifferent
things come to an end

Last one out

please turn out the lights

prior to final departure 

Connection Game

 

On the top tip 
of the hook up pyramid
sits my probably unattainable
fantasy angel

Reigning over her domain
the queen of the scene
sips her inhibition loosening potion
with that quiet confidence
this hungry man finds irresistible

From down below
I formulate my action plan
to connect with this feminine dream

Armed with suave intentions
I move in
with my time tested
interaction pitch
but
her polite smile
and sultry eyes
immediately
throws me off my game

My best laid presentation
is reduced instantly
to a clumsy advance
saturated with cheap
cliched pick up lines

Her disdain of my existence
is readily apparent
as the heart shattering bitch
(she's probably a lesbian)
conveys no way
she'll ever wanna play
with a limp dick like me

To save us both
further embarrassment
I quickly execute 
a shameful retreat
to Losers Corner
where I regroup
seeking solace
from my merciless
currently gelded friends
who brutally mock
(as only buddies can do)
my "She's out of your league"
crash and burn
voyage to the stars

Such are the perils
of manned relationship flight
as I now set my sights
on that crimson haired beauty
from another galaxy 
who looks a little lonely tonight...

Timing is everything in love and life 

Self Boosting Shooting

 

This damn obsession
weighing me down

to keep adding
more
lines
past closing time
is nothing more
than a pointless compulsion
to fill in
all the blank spaces

It's this fear of emptiness
that fuels
the minimal self confidence
I have always had
in my perceived

(or maybe justified)
inadequate talents
as an artist

Either way...

THIS IS ME...

So...

FUCK LOW SELF ESTEEM 

Defending Boundaries

 

Spoiled rotten
is the metaphor du jour
where not only
does the stench fit
it serves as a pungent
cautionary tale

Though only a character
of literary
and cinematic fiction
the petulant brat
Violet Beauregarde
is an oft all too real template
for a major parenting epic fail

The word "NO"

is not always a negative

when applied to children

and self indulgent adults

not accustomed

to much needed

reasonable boundaries

Infrastructure Rupture

 

Stepping into
the broken facade
of our daily decay

Shoes will be soaked
yet again
in our pointless race
to the bitter end

Socks gonna get soggy
by these man made lakes
wear and tear did create

Tears of frustration
permeate these potholes
we gotta navigate every day

Twisted my ankle
cause I misjudged the depth
of the canyon
whose bottom I could not see

This murky cracked environment
keeps the truth perpetually unclear

Now I lay here
writhing in agony
as indifferent pedestrians
step over and around me

This dangerous abyss
really needs to be fixed
by the people in authority
whizzing by us
in their expensive
high end vehicles
which in reality
caused these dangerous craters
in the first place 

Happiness Tripping

 

There will be no full contrition
until we reach
the Gates of Desperation 

When depleted of all options
the view becomes crystal clear
from whence we came
as does the path

to our future
final landing destination

The trip through Depression
can be exceedingly bleak
but you'll never find
elusive Happiness
without first successfully
traversing the Blues 

Neptune Rising

 

When Neptune gets horny
he thinks nothing
of seducing a fair mermaid
by promising to turn them human...

Exhibit A
that even Gods will say
anything to get laid..

After the spent Neptune
banged the gullible maiden

doggy style
he turned her expectant ass 

into a flounder..

No quid pro quo

post epic sex show..

Not the girl princess 
like he had promised..

So in the end
he screwed
the now pissed victim fish
twice in one day

Now she regales

her flounder girl friends

the cautionary tale

of her quick tryst

with the God of the Sea

who now exists

on that infamous list

of asshole men

who can never be trusted

And as a bitter cherry on top

she adds in the rating disclaimer

that the selfish bastard

wasn't that good in the sack

There Be No Accidents

 

Our once sturdy craft
which has seen better days
really has no business
navigating galactic transit
through the wormhole portal anymore

Federation budget cuts

to the much needed

maintenance budget

have been totally decimated

along with safety protocols

whose standards

have also been lowered

by laissez-faire conservatives

A trade off deemed necessary

to satiate the wealthy

who can never seem to have

enough stuff

But I digress

Meanwhile

back to a reality

increasingly hazardous

With each perilous trip
the odds of success shrink
as the Captain
swigs yet another drink
and accelerates
toward we passengers

inevitable fiery fate

Red lights flash

Sirens blare

Explosion imminent

The powers that be

need not be concerned

about post crash push back

because they control

not only the narrative

but the corporate media shills

who will pin this tragedy

on the go to scapegoat enemy

the immigrant alien Klingons

Bread and Circuses

 

We came not for the show
but the bloody spectacle
of our existence dissolution

Nasty beasts were released
to assist the thought police
in canceling all contrarian dissent

In fact anyone deemed different
of appearance or opinion
were labeled as threats
and caught in the net
of state sanctioned repression

Once the complicit population
shaken from former indifference
was worked into a sufficient frenzy
our extinction ticket was punched

Down on the arena floor

even the predators of this feast know
the blood thirsty spectators above
cheering down on today's carnage
will soon enough one day
be their future squealing lunch

"Quod severis metes" 

The Back of the Shelf Gang

 

Pots and pans...

Shadow dwelling
in the corners of irrelevance...

For they have fallen
out of rotation
cause the recipes
that once defined them
and gave them purpose
have lost their appeal
to the current 
plastic generation
who are clueless
about all the great
ancient taste sensations
they are missing out on

with their microwave sensibilities 

These pots and pans
now all too well understand
what it is to be lonely
and unappreciated...

Victims of ignorance
and forced uselessness...

They will endure long lives
with only memory sustenance
to sustain them
in the soul sapping bitterness
of unjust functional obsolescence 

Prey Power

 

The ravenous predator
chases it's fleeing prey
for the expressed purpose
of doing the food chain today

The fed up victim
gets really pissed
by its shitty role in this
unfair death to dinner transaction

Out of sheer
nothing to lose desperation
to level this inequitable situation
he enlists
a few dozen
of his equally distressed friends
to mutually defend
against the tyranny 
of the so called
traditional natural order

Strength in numbers
ain't no myth
as the power
of a motivated
well organized collective
can level the odds
in this very rigged game

Wag The Kennel

Fear not the hyperbole

Every shriek

is merely a terror embellishment

This blood letting

from our little theater

of the Distorted Truth

should not be taken seriously 

For you see

Panic is baked into the script
for dramatic effect
as we writers of low fiction
seek to spotlight deflect
away from a reality

far more scarier
happening in the shadows stage right

The paid players on stage
are performative characters

doing roles they were assigned

by our crack propaganda team

More bark than bite

The entertainment for tonight

Tomorrow will bring

an all new contrived disaster crisis

as today's fireworks fizzle out

Gotta keep it fresh

It's just a show kids

Thanks for your attention

Light Deprived

 

Time is the enemy
against illumination
and the advancing dimness
growing fainter by the day

Batteries now dead

Out of replacements

Bye bye flashlight

Candles totally useless
for they are only decorative

Hello terrors of perpetual night
 
The deepest blackness
envelopes unprepared us

In our dormant instincts
we must now trust
to navigate this insidious darkness

Using internal senses
we never knew we had
to somehow survive
until we can rediscover
the precious light of life

Jamming Justice

 

Here at yet another crime scene

cops push back gawking onlookers

to restore the illusion

of law and order..

“Nothing to see here“

the bullhorn voice proclaims..

But of course there is always 

the post mortem after party

of somber pseudo analysis

and freak show souvenirs

to be mass dispensed..

We are all accomplices..

We are all victims..

Playing out criminality

on perpetual loop..

Rotating roles

as the script dictates..

Allegations roll incessant..

Innocence is subjective..

Guilt irrelevant..

Justice but a stale buffet

of bitter leftover concept scraps

the big money boys

devour like a wolf pack

to satiate their ravenous needs

Clean Up On Aisle Me

 

Don't be so pissy
about all the core inefficiencies
inherent in our ancient
impractical process..

"The way it has always been" chant
of the beloved Status Quo
remains the go to idol we worship
forever at the expense
of dormant common sense..

Looping stupidity
being a self replenishing 
spill puddle
we can never dance past
and avoid
but cleaning up these
messy process defects
is what keeps us muttering sweeps
gainfully employed 

Rebel Dust

 

From pulpit high
those foam at the mouth
phony pious guys
are ragging again
at their demons du jour

Fanning irrational fears
against those with different ideas
and skewed beliefs
as they cherry pick
biblical doctrine
to make their hateful case

What these hypocritical 
fire and brimstone
self appointed
defenders of the faith
and persecutors
of perceived deviants
will never understand
is that Jesus LOVED freaks

Truth be told
he was viewed
as one himself
by the religious establishment
who in fact
went out of their way
to persecute his sacrilegious ass

Such is the fate
of all who poke
the rigid boundaries
set by the naysayer class

So the next time
you get crucified
for your non conformity
remember that you're in good company
throughout recorded history

The Difficult Choice of Being

 

To be or not to be?

Hamlet agonizes

over the ultimate question

as we play along

at home with him

Waiting for the 

parting gift revelation

we all hope to get

before the show ends

Of course

this famous

oft imitated dilemma 

is very open ended

Open to interpretation

by savant philosophers

and would be pseudo poets

For you see

to me

"To be or not to be"

is not only about 

a close the production

suicide contemplation

Not a literal life or death musing

but instead a self spotlight query

of how we choose

to do our daily living

when faced with adversity

in this unscripted drama existence

always teetering on tragedy

for perpetually perplexed us

stuck in these nuanced

complex roles

we are destined

to never understand fully

So how do we play the scene today?

Blips in the Arena

 

In this senseless

endless war
where strangers
from every corner
of the connected globe
are locked
in a continuous text skirmish
that is combat politics
the days bleed together

Angry meme bombs are exchanged

fired off continuously

by the artillery of hyperbole

Matters not

if they hit the target

for in this war

friction engagement

is the thing

No glory will ever be found

in this cesspool conflict

No odes to brave heroes

will be penned one day

Here in the cyber shit abyss
clicks are bullets
measuring levels of distractions
from our real puppeteer enemy
pulling the strings

of us useful idiots

Forever too enraged

by the latest staged

contrived controversy

to bother noticing

how we are all being played

Squeezed Out

 

Wither the aging prom queen
desperately cramming into her faded
taffeta gown

Gone are the last vestiges

of youthful vanity

Once awash in popularity
the belle of the ball
was this former nubile beauty
but Time and Gravity
tarnished her crown
as they now mock her relentlessly
with every
smeared mirrored reflection

Let her current misery
serve as fair warning
to every smug 
young diva princess
dancing high above the crowd
in the popularity clouds

Put down that makeup case
and work on developing
your personality

lest ye too

become a lonely

bitter relic

haunted by the lost glories

of fleeting yesterdays

that no longer fit

Saint Agent Orange

 

The undercover agent
for the Lord
descends into the den of sin
not only to save
wayward fornicators
but to rescue them from Satan,
the evil proprietor,

as their great liberator
saving as many lost souls

as he possibly can

God's chosen implant
had to blend in
with lecherous sinners
and during his mission
having to endure
many fleshly pleasures 
which of course disgusted him

to partake in fornication
all for the cause
of his flock's spiritual redemption

Today the Devil
and his idiot minions
are attacking viciously
the Lord's fisherman
for his noble rescue service

Taking ancient pics
of his whole 

undercover debauchery act
totally out of context

So the Chosen One
has to now face
scurrilous personal attacks
from ignorant media Pharisees
looking to nail him to the cross
for the mass salvation role he did play

I swear this martyr for us all
will be anointed
as a saint some day

to go with his Nobel Peace Prize

Wedding Prisoners

 

The fascist bridal fashionista
demanded mass apparel compliance
for we males held hostage
by archaic traditions
 
She decreed
this dumb uncomfortable

cumberbund accessory
was a nuptial ensemble necessity
for all guys in the wedding party

We acquiesced like good sheep
without protest or question

along with the endless stream

of photo op indignities

to keep the peace
and to greatly increase
our chances of getting laid
post reception

The things we do for lust 

Light Pretzel

 

Gazing through
the cracked prism
of intolerance
yields a distorted vision
which blurs all distinctions
between fact and fiction..

Once the truth gets refracted
it mutates into modern propaganda
for mass transmission
by influencer minions
regurgitating alternative
reality adjustments..

These disciples of the corrupted light
thrive in the shadows of minimal sight
free from the illuminations
and lie busting contradictions
rational thought provides

Ghost Fighter

 

The chiseled Adonis

had all the tools

a champion needs

Power, stamina, and speed

A huge heart with mad skills

The whole battle package

Except for one fatal design flaw

A porcelain like glass jaw

Tap it and down he went

to taste the canvas

An anatomical

career buster for a boxer

Today the former fighter

is a pugilistic teacher

of global renown

Trainer of champions

By conventional standards

of happiness

he is the definition of success

and yet..

Late night

when alone in the gym

he hops into the ring

to shadow box with the past

Forever sparring against

the ghost

of what could have been

Throwing In the Towel

Trapped in the corner

the pummeling is relentless

on the bloody mess

that was the boxer

now the punching bag

looking for a place to fall

His fans look on in horror

as they bear witness

to the brutal beat down

being inflicted

on their favorite long shot

All his best plans of defense

immediately laid to waste

with the first punch to the face

levied by a merciless opponent

persistent and ferocious

As they carry off my beaten carcass

a booming voice above me proclaims  

TIME REMAINS UNDEFEATED

One thing is certain

Ain't gonna be no rematch