Category: Poetry

Breaking fast I gorge myself.
Eating quick the entire shelf.

Hungry still I fill the trough.
The cuffs of diet I slough.

This break of fast will last days.
Holiday from healthy ways.

The strict routine that saved me.
Hard discipline not tasty.

I’ll return to rigid rounds.
Though not before eating pounds.

Thus, full & over-sated.
Salubrious re-fated.

Distracted from dwelling on what they are selling…& what they are selling is debt.
Commercial intrusions on storied illusions; we’re never escaping the net.

A shilling, a pence & a pound of our flesh can be owed without signing a thing.
We live on the other side of the tracks; but we have nice cars & we’re wearing bling.

We spend what we don’t have & we live on account; with no chances ahead to save.
Most boats are sinking & no one is blinking, counting on currency to behave.

There’s no way to climb up slight ladders of ice; formed from what little that trickles down.
Poor folks can’t endure drought, without cure, they have aught; to survive when blight comes to town.

Aristocracy always prefers it this way…where only they can save the day.
So, invest in agility & sustainability; break up standard play.

All of us use filters, depending on our audience.
Meeting someone where they’re at helps negate intolerance.

Focusing on common ground’s a key to build consensus.
Hyping where we differ leads us straight to points contentious.

Even all alone, we have a mad chorus in our souls.
Cheering us & jeering us, whilst we make for simple goals.

Which ones have our attention & which ones do we keep fed?
A human contains multitudes in each asylum head.

We all have inner foci; the trick is what they sound like.
Is your best self the loudest; or, do critics hold the mic?

Maybe where real breaks apart is where dimensions bleed.
Thinner parts of boundaries where physics has to cede.

Schizophrenic atoms fuse together & apart.
Way across the Milky Way, both ending where they start.

The surface of the moon, at once, lithium & cheese.
What lives on the ocean’s floor knows not of skies; but seas.

Sun screams morning into night; heralding each season.
What science doesn’t know, man blindly ascribes reason.

What’s beyond the looking glass, can just as well look back.
Maybe, where the sane wears thin, I can traverse the crack.

Why, as a species, do we still fight over mythology?
We can’t seem to progress past this suicide pathology.

Why do invisible fairytales cost more than human life?
They don’t & that’s the problem; this ouroboros of our strife.

War needs news & news needs war; extreme belief is fed by both.
Millennia here in civil form & still no signs of growth.

If you need belief in myth, then have it just for you & yours.
Arbitrary lines on maps are rarely felt… except at shores.

Step over them & see the global people we’ve always been.
Do we want our world to fight itself all over…once again?

The grey matter of puzzle pieces; each contorted square.
A jigsaw on a cocaine binge hath made my mind go spare.

Starting at the edges, building a frame to then fill in.
Still miffed at what the whole should be; no picture on the tin.

Warped evil genius will answer for efforts to conceal.
Not a single clue’s been proffered; this game gives no reveal.

Slow, my pride dug in, I seek pairs to show the end occult.
This may take my lifetime; I have no guaranteed result.

Each new match bewilders me; still no notion of the art.
This thousands worded image, only done if I play part?

I only know connections that I’ve made along the way.
Maybe the last piece is me…slotted on my dying day.

I posit that I’m not bad off; sat here in repose.
My life could be a fuck of a lot worse, I suppose.

Perspective is a tool that pulls you out of a huff.
Could be better, could be worse; so power through the tough.

Kids don’t have it yet; but adults absolutely should.
Whining life’s not fair past thirty’s not a look that’s good.

You’re tired? Suck it up, force a grin & do your day.
Making others dance round your mood, really, ain’t the way.

Roll with punches; bend don’t break…some axioms are true.
Do good unto others, if you won’t do unto to you.

So much worth equated with what’s valuable.
Any thing you can make liquid, soluble.

All are born with nothing; some with even less.
Then we die alone; most welcoming the rest.

Twixt birth & death, we forget the start & end.
Scrabbling for possessions; no care what we rend.

Some grow inside & make their interims count.
Some share themselves; riding wisdom as a mount.

Some grow the land, so something of them remains.
Most just destroy; leaving nothing but their stains.

We won’t be dickmatized again!
No more taking it on the chin!

We check facts before we begin.
Red flags have a separate bin.

Kick the tires behind the grin. 
Take him out for a little spin.

Never sign with an offered pen.
Rate every test drive, one to ten.

No more free lunch of tasty sin.
Stay alert for an evil twin.

Know the whole what, where, why & when.
Take him home for a trial by kin.

How does he fare with patience thin?
Is he our prince among all men?

After this course, if we’re still zen…
Upon his heart our hopes we’ll pin.

Blooming pansies after frost in each landscapers bed.
Strength’s misnomer for the weak; though we’ve survived the dead.

Purple…& Lavender of McCarthy Era’s Scare.
We’ve always been & always were; nothing scary there.

Ghost Orchids & Lilies thrive inside of harsh extremes.
Each diminutive name is so rarely what it seems.

Accuracy just isn’t equal to conceptions.
Ignorant realities yield up cold receptions.

When seeing plants, or persons, as weak or delicate.
Deign to learn their story, labeled names aren’t predicate.