Dump

This one is a so and so
that one has the clap
you know who loves to blow
it’s all the same old crap—

we find relief within a stall
inscribing impishly
our childish rants upon the wall
the hubris of ennui.

The Pits

The fruit of my labor is barely a snack although the exertion is crushing my back perhaps I should nurture that shiny green seed to harvest a bounty beyond what I need.

Anchored

I had a big bowl of sadness for breakfast today
which quickly grew soggy in milk
then clung to the edges all mushy and gray
like fortified fare of its ilk.

My coffee spoon became the moon
a face of stone, collision prone
another spin let sweetness in
while saucers sipped each wasted drip.

The Weatherman said everything looks sunny
so finish your milk and pass the honey
for things are seldom as bad as perceived;
digesting this news left me slightly relieved,
I sloughed off the guilt for the wars that we've fought
and left for the day, my mooring lines taut.

Evolving

I watch my feathered friends robustly dive
begrudging how completely they’re alive
while grounded here beside the daily grind
their playful antics help me to unwind
and show me how to possibly survive—
by grasping adaptations well designed.

Hurting Horatio

If only you knew what you think you know
you’d be quite a dangerous dude
but you’re not too slick when you put on a show
in fact, I’d say you’re just crude
and seldom, if ever, does anyone dare
to challenge the will of a brute
except for this person, who has yet to care
when you give your honker a hoot.

Brain Trust

Simplicity is so profound
but simply seen as dense
the rarest thing of all, I’ve found
is good old common sense.

Pennyworth

We all are dead
the day we’re born
but strive instead
to face the morn
with firm resolve
to improvise
a way to solve
the compromise
despite the scorn
of copper eyes.

Drought

I dropped the bucket faithfully
but didn’t hear a splash
I let the rope out all the way
right to the final lash;
with trepidation I look up
to see an empty sky
and hope for rain because it seems
the well is truly dry.

Turning the Worm

I’ve prayed for selfish gain
but nothing came about
which turned indignant pain
to sprouting seeds of doubt.

I’ve begged for distant parts
but changes never came
as scarred indifferent hearts
have chosen who to blame.

I plead and will continue to
for something to confirm
that faith is not a crutch for those who
wonder as they squirm.

Whoosh

Abbreviated incidents of unexpected calm
amidst the fleeting whirlwind of strife
accentuate the poignancy of life
with the brevity of their balm.

Freak Show

There are bastards that are blessed with wit
braggarts who are full of shit
monkeys that don’t have a clue
but do what they see others do,
scoundrels with uncaring hearts
mechanics seeking proper parts
doctors wearing thoughtful masks
anesthetized throughout their tasks,
plumbers wielding rusty wrenches
homeless people hugging benches
while thumping stumpers multiply
to reinforce the freedom lie,
activists stir up the rabble
evangelists benignly babble—
the carnival keeps passing through
as dreamers jot a line or two.

Clear?

The less you share
the less you bear
but loneliness
can cause despair
so always dare
to try and care
with openness
like crystal air.

Susceptible

To regulate excess
the perfect paradigm
so simple sounding, yes?
But pleasure’s not a crime
and often, all we heed
afflicted by our need.

Igor I Presume?

There is no piece of paper to confirm I have a brain
no sticker on my auto from the ivy clad domain
no pin or ring to grant all access to the secret club
which makes me perfect to assist the snobs that love to snub
(provided elbows never rub).

Going with The Flow

I’ve walked beside the creek
when the water was alive
and heard the rapids speak
of their struggle to survive
the folly of ambitious fools
who seek to dam them into pools
and damn them with their rules.

“Relax” I tell the frenzied froth
“You’ll still be here tomorrow
arrogant degrees of sloth
will soon turn into sorrow
unlike your fluid grace,
to eliminate this race
without a trace.”

bric-a-brac

The range of contradictions that encompass who I am
is wider than the world in which I wallow
preventing me from going incognito on the lam
for everywhere I go exceptions follow
but whether in a palace or a ditch
eventually we all find our niche.

Dream On

Take this unpretentious verse!
and as my essences disperse
I’ll mutter an impromptu curse.
Will needed ripples ever bless
this tepid pool of consciousness
to agitate the brackish bog
through which the throngs routinely slog,
can’t some new voice surmount the din
with words that thunder deep within?
Is all that has been said before
a distant echo, nothing more?

I fade amid the drone
of the static we condone
and hear inside my head
the anthem of the dead.
How fake! But we’re so lax
who’ll search between the cracks
while I wax — while I wax!
Oh Lord – can I not sing
a scintillating ring?
Oh Lord – can I not voice
a mantra to rejoice?
Is all that has been said before
a distant echo, nothing more?

Glowing

A pallid moon is swimming through the murky depths of night
struggling for buoyancy, it sheds some borrowed light
to rise above the misty sea that twilight left behind
illuminating new horizons deep within my mind.

Familiar

Once more the hoop is set aflame
the whip is smartly crackin’
although my body’s almost lame
the ramrod thinks I’m slackin’
I jump when cued despite my shame
and penchant for attackin’
those that feel I should be tame
but never send me packin’.

Tada!

First Lady?

Counting on the sisterhood
to bear her to that vaunted throne
her cracked façade has somehow stood
though worry lines have surely grown,
increasing from the constant strain
of feigning deep emotional pain.

Such artifice is quite obscene
employing shameless machinations,
spewing lies from every screen
pursuing selfish aspirations.
Talk show fools can barely wait
to get her on and validate.

A future bid is all but assured
the lust for power undeniable,
hopefully people won’t be lured
and search for someone more reliable—
we need a leader, not a wannabe
obsessed with making history.

Outlook

When I was younger
and clouds buzzed my head
I thought I was watching the world revolve
now that I’m older
I focus instead
on misty reminders of dreams dissolved.

Then I wonder which is bluer
the sky or I?
No failure could be truer
so why deny.

Each moment
is a fleeting chance
to garner some salvation
as latent
as the orbs that dance
beyond precipitation.

PHD

Please don’t think me rude
or your meaning misconstrued
I understand quite clearly what was said
you just seem so confused
I can’t help but be amused
at how some forms of ignorance are bred:
so yes, I’m being brash
but I heard the distant crash
when your stunted tree of knowledge wound up felled
take the time before you speak
to make sure it doesn’t reek
like that last steaming pile you expelled.

Earth:Terminal 1

We snicker, we bicker
entranced by a flicker
while seeking the software
that makes it run slicker
so we can get sicker
and make the affair
implode that much quicker.

Alienation

Welcome! You’ve touched down upon
the planet of Automaton
where only those with rigid views
decide what constitutes your dues.
Right there is a Republican
take note of its malicious grin
and to the left a Democrat
obsessed with doling out the fat,
religious types are all about
contributing their share of doubt
so every fragile mannequin
can wonder if free will is sin.
You look confused, well join the lot
we haven’t much but what we’ve got
is there to waste so grab your fill
before our machinations kill
the world in one big firestorm
but first – you must complete this form.