Myopic

The devil’s in the details
that’s why our vision fails
we can only face the truth so long
before our conscience rails

but who decides what’s wrong
consensus of the throng?—
deluded by what might have been
if we had just stayed strong,

denying purchase when
the darkling ducked its den
but then we’d have to own our guilt
for eyes to work again.

Status

God, I detest the rich
they’ve done naught but bring me grief
while picking away at every stitch
of my fuzzy faux belief,

but I also pity that class
for their power comes from their greed
and when they finally pass
they’re just other souls in need.

Overage

It’s not always wise to know math
imbalance can multiply wrath
when those at the top
relentlessly shop
while claiming they’re taking a bath.

Ben Abused

With an armload of assumption
I. M. Eager started work
and he said with utmost gumption
“You’ll never catch me shirk!”

His foreman, Richard Lackey
just smiled and said “Calm down,
it seems a little tacky
with you jumping all around.”

“I’m taking you to Gabby Blab
so you can get your start
she’s gaudy and she loves to gab
but competent and smart.

Just never tell her any dirt
you don’t want widely known
she has a tendency to blurt
it out (except her own).”

Her outfit was a shocking pink
affair with purple scarf
like something splattered in the sink
if Barney had to barf,

and I.M. found out right away
what foreman Lackey meant
before he even said good day
she indiscreetly leant

and whispered “Don’t believe that sot
he loves to toss ‘em back
his bloated liver’s full of rot
and his son is hooked on smack.”

She gave him countless forms to sign
while prodding pleasantly
if he had problems to opine
“You can always talk to me.”

she said, but he was scared to speak
so she rose and said “Let’s go,
you’ll be instructed for a week
on all you need to know.

Your trainer’s been here forty years
so listen to him well,
but if he grumbles plug your ears
his mind has gone to hell.”

They entered the production floor
and I.M. got enthused
until they went through one more door
and he met Ben Abused.

Now Ben was old, his back was stooped
his face was like a mask
but he was always first one scooped
to finish any task,

he sized up his new protégé
and said “I guess you’ll do,
we’ll make sure that you earn your pay
before the shift is through.”

And so it went for that first week
between I. M. and Ben
who told him (when he chose to speak)
his tales of other men.

“See that guy with the haggard face
his name is Kenny Last
with five kids in a two room space
and six approaching fast.”

They spied a girl with a bristly head
“That’s good old Sam Iam,
she never has much fun in bed
a ramrod with no ram.”

One day Mr. Lackey screamed
“These numbers make me sick!”
in Ben’s old eyes a twinkle gleamed
“that’s why we call him Dick.”

By Friday Ben hadn’t changed
he bustled to and fro
but when the afternoon bell clanged
he said “Come on, let’s go!

They got me a card with scratch-offs in it
along with a tiny cake
and Dickie gave me an extra minute
on this, my final break.”

He grudgingly beheld I. M.
and said, “You’ll do okay,
just keep your hopes to a minimum
our place is where we stay,

my father told me long ago
that rich folk were our betters
improving things with what they know,
domesticating debtors,

and all we have to try to do
is make what they can sell
for more than what they pay the crew
that labors in their hell.”

Then Ben paused to look around
his face morosely sad
this frantic place of constant sound
was all he ever had,

“The owner has a giant pad,
a mansion by the sea,
I don’t have much, my credit’s bad
one room’s enough for me,

he has his pets that tell him what
he really wants to hear,
the rest of us are nothing but
a soon discarded gear,

but all of that’s behind me now
this week has been my last,
I’ll wipe the moisture from my brow,
pick up my pole and cast.”

Within a month they all were told
that Ben was in the soil,
his tired heart at last went cold
from years of fruitless toil,

now I. M. goes to work each day
his life a structured blur,
he never has too much to say
the robot they prefer,

it doesn’t matter what he was
way back when he began,
amidst the grinding corporate buzz
you’ll never be a man.

Violators

Big Brother isn’t just a camera
watching from afar
it’s a suppository crawling up
inside of who you are
counting every butt hair in your crack
recording everything on which you snack
designing ads to keep your mind at ease
deciding if you’ve earned your liberties—
smile please!

Hemmed

The covert introvert
wore a skirt, learned to flirt
now can’t decide with whom to ride
or what inside had made her hide.

Intangible

Nothing’s the way I want it to be
and I’m starting to see the problem is me
for why should I think anyone
will care about the things I’ve done,
if I compose one decent line
or nine hundred and ninety-nine,
perform a near impeccable job,
I’m still a poor untutored slob—
I’ve got to learn to change my view
accepting I am someone who
it seems is ever doomed to be
obstructed by obscurity.

(De)Serving?

‘Hard work is its own reward’
and ‘Keep a positive attitude’
might help to stir the horde
but they’ll never purchase food

why do those that do the least
seem to get the most
while those that help prepare the feast
are lucky to get toast.

Honored

The hundredth day of the year
has no inherent meaning
to those inhabiting this sphere
incessantly careening
except for one small group that meets
to throw a celebration
with frosted and some frozen treats
to honor the creation
of someone they have taken in
among their growing family
while he proffers a sheepish grin
awash in the cacophony
of the close-knit clan they’ve formed
and his ripening heart is warmed.

Repercussions

I don’t have to see the numbers
it’s lurking in your eyes
a craven creep that lumbers
in the labyrinth of lies,

but be aware of something
as you cover up the tracks
a cornered wretch with nothing
gives no warning, just attacks.

Showstopper

This quest to gild your name
with innovative fame
isn’t only lame
it just may end the game.

Movement

I watch the wires waver in the wind
impinging on the poles from which they hang
like pious tethers shaking those who’ve sinned
by asking if their god was just a bang,
considering the benchmarks we’ve achieved
when daring to condemn the masses call
you’d think we know there’s more to be believed
than ancient fears that hold us in their thrall.
Philosophy and dogma put aside
we’ve got to live with senses unimpaired,
impervious to prior farces hatched
when people were confounded by their pride
ignoring the one purpose that we’ve shared—
to forward truth without the strings attached.

Commitment

“Relinquish your sword!” she coldly exclaimed
he pulled the bright blade from its sheath
then finely forged steel that had murdered and maimed
was riskily shaking beneath
his chiseled chin, but he wasn’t tamed
and calmly said, “I still bequeath
my heart, my life, and soul for you,
would I submit if it wasn’t true?”

She faced the fierce inferno of his eyes
whose ardent gaze consumed her heart
then dropped the weapon, moaning tortured sighs,
she had an urgent course to chart
but couldn’t stop imagining her thighs
enveloping his manly part
and squeezing him with fevered zeal—
then suddenly it all turned real.

The passion of the two conjoined was more
than either one had ever shown
the storm had long since passed them by before
they finished and were lying prone
“I’ve got to return and settle the score.”
he said at last, but she had known,
withholding teardrops as she stared
already missing what they shared.

Opaque and resolute, a silence draped
between the two while they got dressed
with every fleeting second that escaped
their love was feeling more repressed
which prompted her to think until she shaped
a moving plea to be expressed,
she turned to finally plead her case
but he was gone without a trace.


***Finally part 5, here are links to 1-4***

Part1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4