Category: Poetry

Is what you see the artist’s doing?
Or, are you viewing & imbuing.

“I don’t know much about art” they say.
“I just know what I like & I’ll pay.”

So, we artists toil at this & that.
Avant-guard, bread & butter, Old hat.

We say the same thing several times.
Different…without repetition’s crimes.

Your whole life’s work…you’ll love a quarter.
You’ll think “fair trade”…for love on barter.

We grow scales on our hearts with every tear.
They plaster our poor pumps with every year.

Barnacles of barbarism cause us drag.
They weigh down our blood & cause souls to sag.

The best of our selves slings swing off of the side.
They’ve a shucker in hand to, the hull, debride.

They work a thankless job with indentured pay.
Although, without them, we would make no headway.

Bluster can beat against my blood muscle walls.
It’s only our best keeps us from being trawls. 

Ridiculing power; who Chaos has strewn around.
Making evil glower; whose greed has yet to be bound.

No lie matches money; its bottom to top we made.
Lie of milk & honey; even plastic flowers fade.

Workers sort random numbers in pre-fab data banks.
Blithely unaware they’re culling us with remote tanks.

Clocking in & clocking out; all under comm blackouts.
Hangmen have always worn hoods…they’re effective cop-outs.

If there is retail for all; then we are all for sale.
Cheque for beta-testing…writ in ink of widow’s wail. 

Oh such easy dramatics & pastel rage.
Ill-habilimented for their war to wage.

You’ve military trimming on your loungewear?…Goals!
“Safe Space for Anger’s” a bit too off the nose.

Give it time & you see that it’s mostly shit.
Instinct reacts bad but never give up or quit.

Being good’s not tethered to woman or man.
We all hold onto nothing; tight as we can.
 
Still, time comes for us all; no matter how weird.
Yet, Time’s just worried about shaving his beard.

Barbresses? Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos.
Funnily; the Fates Shave Time…apropos.  

Oh shit! Here come the self police.
Pick up your hood; Pull down your fleece.

Too, constables of inner ought…
Patrolling borders…speech & thought.

Do not just hand the mic away.
First, ask them what they have to say.

If all those turkeys talk is jive…
Flip their switch; Don’t leave them live.

For, true tight ships have got no leaks.
The same applies to which voice speaks.

Celebrate what you got; not what you made.
You might be surprised by the ways they slay.

It’s not our job to make them compliant.
Nor do we set the bar at defiant.

Bit of reliance but in the end launched.
Able to tend their wounds & keep blood staunched.

They will show the kindnesses you’ve showed them.
The way you sound is their first voice within.

You will do your best as past adults have.
Cows nor Bulls…if always left Calves.

So many things get one out of bed…
Stitched into Life is better than Dead.

Not least among them is watching you.
You joined & made two more hearts from two.

None are fractured parts from broken wholes.
Just solid results from solid roles.

For, you two founded a font of Love.
 From which, everyone is availed of.

Both different & like as rivers run.
Rending & feeding terrain til done.

Time, in time, claims almost everything.
Lucky, you’re each other’s hammock swing.
 
Without this year’s traditional silk…
I gift steel wool words…my verbose ilk.

FOR: H & P

HAPPY 12th ANNIVERSARY!

Sometimes the love we give is all we can muster.
Still, give it we do, even faded in luster.

Yes, we always show up, if grumpily present.
Leaning, brooding & generally unpleasant.

Though, we do engage at any chance for a chat.
Unsolicited Opinions is where it’s at.

I’m not speaking in terms of the young or the old…
Just the ones who learn & are perennially bold.

For, Bold’s a fucking given 24/7.
Boldly still speaking after every learned lesson.

Whatever they have made that cannot come to light…
Is tucked in the fold of continental divide.

Whomever was known unto the monsters they made…
Became monsters too when for creation were paid.

However they’ve survived they have earned a birthright…
Existing thus far only visible at night. 

Wherever they decide to roam with mate & brood…
Must be a place where people don’t mind being food.

Why would I empathize with monstrous Frankenstein?
Maybe I can sense struggles similar to mine?

Stop auto-populating data for shit you don’t know.
You’ve super computers in your palms; self-educate…go!

All world history’s there…with all of the art & all our maths.
Also, there are cruel & hate driven algorithmic paths.

There are communities there of both destruction & hate.
Yet, admittedly or not, most are just seeking a mate.

We would not destroy all the roads to avoid the crashes.
Existence doesn’t dissipate along with our ashes.

All roads taken towards knowledge wind thru hearts before brains.
Learn what your soul is drawn to…embrace your path’s joys & pains.