No News Is Good News

Don't know what's happening,
In the world anymore,
Funny, if you miss three days of the news,
You miss murders, storms, 'nwar,

But you also start to see the rhythm,
The beat of what we're fed,
Kore'graphed to keep us comfortably numb,
But still anxious enough to sweat our beds,

Afraid terrorists will strike anytime,
Thankful for all you've got,
Fed up with candidates, not the system,
Wishing you owned a yacht.

That's just three days,
Imagine cold turkey,
Naught to focus on but how you must live,
Reflecting on whether or not you're free.

Let's Say

Be careful what you say,
Best not to say too much,
I'm not saying not to say anything,
But, say nothing as such.

Let's just say if you have something to say,
Something important, say,
How you say it cannot be taken back,
And will prob'ly come back to you one day,

Say, what if you said things in your head first?
Then see what you say back,
A genus of saying experiment,
Test if what you say lacks.

Or let's just say,
You say sayings only,
It is like you didn't say anything,
So many people've said those already.

Nothing

This is about nothing,
Since nothing's what there is,
Since most of our live's spent doing nothing,
'Cept living on a wish,

Since nothing more can be done about it,
Since we've tried for eons,
To make something good out of this nothing,
Yet still people call for revolutions,

Since nothing is all that we ever say,
Since words are only sounds,
Since what we have accomplished when we're done,
'Sucked up by nothing's downs.

Since everyone,
On this planet will die,
Since death's the only thing that's guaranteed,
The greatest nothing one could e'er design.

Not Me

I don't know what to say,
Don't know what's going on,
Embedded deep within my own concerns,
Not able to function,

In a way that would suffice for normal,
If that be what you want,
No theme, no production, no direction,
Only a hotel room as my old haunt,

Soon it will be left behind and then what?
Will I be more rooted?
More theme? More Production? More direction?
End what the old coot did?

You won't get that,
Maybe in a few years.
Until then I will have to keep living,
And too stop writing about my own fears.

CS

Time to get personal,
'Bout something you may know,
That curses you when you're at your lowest,
Not drinking alone, no,

It sits in your body, living quite nice,
Prob'ly just wasting time,
Eating the food that you eat for yourself,
Bragging to your blood that life is just fine,

It perks up when your stressed, rubbing its eyes,
Peaks its head out the door,
Choosing your lip as its observ'tory,
Yes, the dreaded cold sore.

I'm not sure why,
It makes me feel so gross,
Like I'm less of a person, ya, silly,
P'haps I should try to be a better host.

Service Please

Please just come and see me,
I know you're talking now,
But I'm hungry and it is not your job,
To leave me wond'ring how,

I am going to get your attention,
Not seeming the rude one,
When all I'm expecting is what you do,
Which is to scribble down my decision,

Then take that piece of paper to the cook,
See, now I'm an asshole,
It's a tough position I find me in,
When all I want's a bone.

It's not your fault,
The annoying Bronx chick,
Could delay Death if she could catch his ear,
All I want's to eat and not be a dick.

Work to Live

Well, I missed a wath there,
It is not that I shirked!
Thirty-six hours with four hours sleep,
Thirty-two flight and work.

What did I learn in that time out of life?
First, live is what you do,
No matter how much you still deny it,
The person doing what you do is you,

You still react as you would wherever,
Things go smoothly or rough,
You're still judged by your actions and bearing,
When the going gets tough.

You live to work,
Whether working or not,
The sooner you understand that, my friend,
Living then will not seem such a hard lot.

Nothing

The world shrinks around you,
When it's not getting big,
Like a lung, 'cept no air's needed to live,
For this relentless pig,

It inhales other things, like slop from trough,
Depending on where you find importance,
Money, fame, love or hate,
Any commodity for conversion,

If you can slice its innards and climb out,
Then you lose everything,
Others no longer can connect with you,
Though you become a king,

Of nothing much,
Just a jumble of crap,
That only has meaning back where you were.
Ain't that a kick in the proverb'al ass?

And It Will Come Back?

What?  If you love something,
Go on and set it free?
Let it roam around and risk losing it,
For all eternity?

Roam the world yourself, forever wond'ring,
P'haps you should have held on,
That some things in fact need to be tied down,
To be true to its real constitution?

Could it be millions have took this advice?
And millions of loves lost,
That may have been happier not let free?
It seems like quite a cost,

For a saying.
I hope it wasn't you,
Who led your very real and unique life,
By a rule concocted by who knows who.

No Time Again

This will be a speed wath,
I don't want to be late,
And late for me is actually on time,
So I've no time to prate.

Only serious topics will do now,
How 'bout that gas price?
Not high in the scope of war and murder,
But for sure better on the scale of nice.

The distractions around aren't helpful,
It is a wonder that,
Anyone gets anything useful done,
And not stay where they're sat.

That's all I have,
It's time to go to work,
The stress in my brain can't help anyway,
Still this one task I did not want to shirk.

Obama's Last Stand

The state of the union,
Will be addressed Tuesday,
By Barak, in his last months as pres'dent,
Hair almost fully grey.

He is going to propose a tax hike,
On the country's most rich,
With Republicans owning both houses,
I'm sure he'll pull it off without a hitch,

This will be his legacy and last move,
In eight frustrating years,
In which his health care bill was watered down,
While drone bombs seeded fears.

There is one thing,
Bin Laden is no more,
I am sure he will bring that up again,
Over his shoulder as he's shown the door.

With My Daughter

Just so that I can say,
I wrote a wath today,
E'en though I'm sitting watching a movie,
I'll find something to say,

E'en with my arm around my little girl,
'Tween wrapt and bored by Tad,
It's ironic to steal time while snuggling,
To write about the amount I love it,

How she rests her head on my chest like this,
Squeezes tight when she's scared,
Cries out if I step away for a bit,
A love that's only shared,

Amidst pure faith,
That we've for each other,
I must say I wouldn't be very sad,
If she never got up or grew older.

Buy Target

So Target is leaving,
Not a long run, fellers,
Seventeen thousand jobs gone just like that,
Should have stuck with Zellers,

Man, they had a niche no one was touching,
'Tween Goodwill and Targé,
Now all their former stores will be empty,
But Target sure isn't going away,

There's still th'executives who made this move,
Down south of the border,
While the unskilled and newly unemployed,
Are a little older.

Is this step one,
To the revolution?
The more people that learn what poor's about,
The more this system will seem perversion.

What's Left

There's nothing in here that,
Can tell you who you are,
Except in so far as it is the same,
As all things near and far,

Like what you see in the mirror each morn,
Hear on the radio,
Feel when you don't know which way you're going,
On a spontan'ous trip to Mexico,

In your darkest moments drinking alone,
Thinking what you've become,
Or your brightest moments, drinking with friends,
Talking how far you've come.

It's all the same,
The trick's being honest,
With yourself and about what is really known,
Aft' stripping the world and pitching the rest.

We're Here for a Good Time, Not a Long Time

The lights are harsh in here,
There's a chill in the air,
The sound of the aich vak is distracting,
There's plastic plants o'er there,

But if I squint my eyes, look at the air,
Ignore my stress-ached back,
Retreat into the darkness of my mind,
I can return to my normal, safe tack,

Which is to sep'rate my self from the world,
A necess'ty since birth,
Born of what? That I was a late surprise,
Spent much lone time on earth?

Who really knows,
What makes you who you are,
E'en thinking back's done by your present self,
Only the future's subject to repair.

Do Nothing

Where do you find the time,
To do all that you do?
You know our time on this earth is fleeting,
And they will forget you.

Think about George Clooney,
Awarded for his life!
You think anyone will e'en know his name,
Gen'rations from tonight?

He hasn't e'en done that much when compared,
To the mass being done,
Every moment by billions of people,
Oh, since Walter Pidgeon.

But we must, right?
No matter argument,
It's considered disease to do nothing,
A betrayal of human sentiment.

If We Were The Same

If I'm a clone of you,
And so is ev'ryone else,
New babies clones of us and the others,
So that we're all ourselves,

So that given the same circumstances,
Same road from which we came,
Our reaction to a stimulus would,
Be to a hair's-breadth exactly the same,

With no other person we ever meet,
Not being one of us,
Old, young, new people inside and outside,
Are exact replicas,

Would we e'en know,
We're all identical,
Or would we love and hate?  Would there be war,
In such an unlikely order social?

Three Things

How much must be go'n on,
For things to be happ'ning,
To be feeling that each moment's value,
Isn't just a-wasting?

For you know they are not infinite, right?
Well actually, moments are,
Minutes that count down from the moment you're born,
With no guarantee zero's not that far,

And if ev'ry one just thought on the moment,
Doubt they'd kill anyone,
They might starve to death in euphoric bliss,
But it's a concession,

Qual'ty of life,
Wouldn't you trade it all,
For a moment of life where it's all clear,
Open skies, no horizon, and no walls?

Jihad

Is everyone afraid?
Could happen anywhere,
The events in France have reminded us,
Randomness isn't fair,

Too much like the nature of real'ty,
Terror by life's questions,
When will I die?  Can I predict what's next?
The toughest of existence's lessons,

But no one should fear this kind of vi'lence,
That is soci'ty's point,
We live together and let others live,
Th'other side of the coin.

So raise your pens,
Nothing should be taboo,
That doesn't encourage hate or vi'lence,
Shouldn't be too hard to be understood.

Early Morning

Getting up's a good thing,
It has got to get done,
And sure, everybody needs their sleep,
For useful production,

But you want to feel like you've done something,
Before the day's started,
'Fore machines start running and software boots,
'Fore others worry 'bout what your heart did.

In advance of questions and follow-ups,
That's when you can still live,
Before you are who you are with the sun,
Darkness has much to give,

Ere your real life,
As a good citizen,
The few precious hours when no one expects,
Anyone to fit something useful in.

As Time Passes

My body's getting old,
My brain cannot help that,
My foot, knees, hip and neck now give me pain,
My, am I getting fat!

Morning's are now harder to wake up to,
I guess I need more rest,
So I'll start to go to bed earlier,
Also, an afternoon nap may be best,

The greys I don't mind all that much, you know,
While I still look younger,
I won't like losing the small height I have,
This pome's been a downer!

There is my health,
I have got that for now,
But remember, no one lives forever,
E'en though it's easy to forget, somehow.

The Old Ways

In another airport,
But, watching my paesan,
Singing and playing with the organette,
From far across the pond,

Making me think about the traditions,
That won't live on with me,
As familiar as Canada's seasons,
And Dub'ewe Kay Ar Pee in Cinc'nnati,

I want to relive my youth, get it back,
Learn those songs and dances,
The language, cooking and literature,
Those sayings my aunt says.

E'en if I tried,
It's probably too late,
That generation is mostly all gone,
Or just too old to teach this manga cake.

Say It Ain't So, Andrew

Prince Andrew must be glad,
That his ex-wife Fergie,
Defended him 'gainst prostitution claims,
With her stellar hist'ry.

Buckingham Palace made a statement, too,
Claiming it isn't true,
That Epstein provided him with young girls,
Repeatedly and all over the world,

So once again one has to ask oneself,
What's the motivation,
Of women standing up to ridicule,
For such accusations?

Maybe it's true.
D'ya ever think of that?
Do you realize exploitation's common,
Amongst the rich and the aristocrats?

The Connection

It's easy to forget,
That others live life, too,
They face the same dilemmas and desires,
Basically as you,

If not in function then in their spirit,
And in their energy,
With regrets and about their past decisions,
And questions about all the facts they see,

Existence filled with more time thinking 'bout,
Existence than their life,
Tormented each minute by not knowing,
The future.  Ain't that nice?

But that's not you?
Everyone's not the same?
Surely there's something that connects us all,
But what could it be if it's not the pain?

Controlling the Skies

Snow, rain, then snow, then rain,
When will we have control?
We're so afraid of this thing called weather,
We forget what we know,

That we made it to the friggin' moon, man,
Split the fucking atom,
Put one person's heart in another's chest,
Then that person did a goddam ir'n man.

We've dug deeper than hashem knows how far,
Or allah, truth be known,
Flying ev'ry which way in aeroplanes,
Don't e'en start with cellphones.

So why our fear,
Of fiddling with the sky?
Wait, cloud seeding's common across the world,
Prob'ly other shit I don't know, ne'er mind.

Invention

For example, the car,
An immense invention,
Changing the way we see distance and time,
Still, an evolution,

Arrived at by steps through generations,
Starting with the ol' wheel,
Then human after human built on it,
And it's not e'en what we envision, still,

They are not quite driving themselves, but soon,
Hovering, who knows when?
But someone one day will think of those things,
The way we think of when,

We had to dial,
Into the internet,
The opportun'ty's ope' to all of us,
To contribute to what is coming next.

Good Morning

As the world awakens,
(It always does, somewhere),
The sun growing slowly, bright in the east
As it does ev'rywhere,

Each person will either face it or not,
So many days a year,
Each day a choice whether you think or not,
That can only be made by facing fear,

Fear of what you do not know is coming,
Or p'haps of what you do,
Fear of the success trying might just bring,
What it might do to you.

Then there's the fear,
E'er the moon you'll be dead,
A very real possibility that,
Has kept better people than me in bed.

Happy New Year!

The confetti's all spent,
It lays all around you,
Other signs of celebration must go,
Before life can resume,

When the break from what is real is over,
You return to yourself,
Considering dealing with things anew,
Knowing doing so means you'll need to delve,

Into reasons why you do as you do,
But you don't want to change,
Even if you did, it would not be real,
Not for long could you feign.

Happy New Year!
Here's to the same old ways,
The only true way to find your true self,
Is to be true to your natural ways.