The Chamber

I just read The Chamber,
Written by John Grisham,
'Bout a Klansman on death row for bombing,
Nine-year-old Jewish twins,

His long-lost grandson tries hard to save him,
From a Chicago firm,
Not 'cause he thinks what granddad did was right,
'Cause govs shouldn't kill under any terms.

Grisham beautifully shows the last days,
As he waits to be gassed,
From desperation to anger to calm,
Time slows, then it goes fast.

It's so unique,
To be killed by the state,
'Magine knowing the time of your own death,
A publicly endorsed seal of your fate.

A Must Read, Part One

Just read Ove's part one,
Saga through the U.S.,
If you want to know what makes him so great,
Go ahead and read this,

I don't know how many parts there will be,
But this one's ten k words,
Describing in detail the things he did,
To make the trip's first few days just awkward,

He lost his license before this road trip,
Then failed to renew it,
Plugged up the toilet at his first hotel,
Tried his hand to clear it,

Proclaimed how great,
That the Times had hired him!
To describe America through his eyes,
But plans not to talk to one citizen.

The Poor

There are a lot of poor,
And it's no fault of theirs,
When most humans, if they could, would stop it,
'Cause mostly humans care,

'Least when they're face to face with another,
Not so much when far 'way,
Not because distance makes the heart less fond,
'Cause there's more poor with ev'ry foot away,

Gets too much to think of helping them all,
Governments can do that,
That's what we have them for anyway, no?
Live in union, get fat.

And there's the rub,
Ev'ryone wants it all,
After all, you know you only live once,
Why deny your life its desirables?

Riding

I've been meditating,
While riding a chairlift,
Alone or with strangers, I close my eyes,
And enter the abyss,

With confidence that I won't fail to feel,
The bumps of each pole's wheels,
Or that I'll miscount the number I pass,
Stay on and break the emergency seal.

I try to concentrate on my breathing,
And not get distracted,
By hoots and howls of skiers down below.
At times, in fact, I did.

It is just hard,
To ignore all around,
But if I manage and hear just my breath,
I sometimes solve problems the most profound.

Getting It Finished

It has to get finished,
The hardest part is now,
When everything has to come together,
With no one guessing how,

Time is precious, even this time right now,
Should be given to it,
It's like each moment that it is delayed,
Is a moment closer to losing it,

But hopefully this very wastefulness,
Truly's meditation,
Speeding up the real work that must be done,
Until true completion,

Well, that's the hope,
Focus for truthfulness,
Getting in touch with the fire inside,
For the production of the heart's pureness.

Onto It

Can't waste my time this time,
I am sorry to say,
That the words on this screen really just are,
A time wasting, time filling throw away,

There is something more important to do,
That I've missed, last few days,
Along with this blog that's making me sad,
I'm afraid this morn may go the same way,

So, if there's one thing you must take with you,
'Cause I know that I must,
You will know what it is that you must do,
If without it you bust.

There, it is done,
My throw-away poem,
Though I also obsess over routine,
Now my mind's a little closer to home.

The Tunnel

So, who built this tunnel,
And where was it to go?
Hard to believe it had no dest'nation,
It was a hallway, yo.

Sure there was a rosary found down there,
That put the cops at ease,
'Cause Cath'lics have ne'er been prone to vi'lence,
Probs to be a home for orphaned babies.

They say it's not a crime to dig a hole,
Still, they're anxious to know,
Who took time to dig that impressive thing,
They'll ask no questions, no.

Just shake the hand,
Of people so clever,
Then snap a cuff on them 'till they confess,
To stealing their supplies from the Rexall Centre.

Sacred Script

Someone comes from nowhere,
Act'lly, everyone does,
She grows to make an impact on the world,
Act'lly, everyone does,

The things she does with focus will inspire,
For focus is quite rare,
Couple that with a vision that won't change,
The force it creates, the world cannot bear,

For with that nothing comes no instruction,
Not written by others,
Who came from nowhere, that's why sacred script,
Is embraced like mothers,

They're manuals,

For those without focus,
So that they don't feel they come from nowhere,
So the authors rule less antithesis.

Embracing

Live one day at a time,
Better make it worth it,
When you're gone, no one will remember you,
Despite the internet,

Don't let life carry you along with it,
You're meant to be dropped off,
To take a look around and meet yourself,
Making sure that you understand enough,

You feel like each moment's an etern'ty,
In truth, it really is,
But the eternities come to an end,
Like a phenom'nal kiss.

Laugh all you want,
Laugh as much as you can,
No one's e'er wished at the end of their life,
For e'en their worst moments to ne'er have been.

What You See

What is it life will bring?
Well, whatever it is,
It enters through the filter of your mind,
And that's all that exists,

No one else can tell you what it looks like,
Except through their mind's eye,
Then, again, their view is filtered by you,
So you are really seeing the same life.

Is there anyway to change what you see?
Why certainly there is!
'Cept change only exists 'side something else,
But you're all that exists.

You're all you know,
Life can't seem different,
I'm not saying others don't see life, too,
Things were never changed by a Solipsist.

Show, Don't Tell

I now get show, don't tell,
You need to do it first,
To appreciate how much more you say,
With actions and not words,

To see someone die in front of your eyes,
To feel akin to him,
Killed for his beliefs and activism,
'Gainst and inegalitari'n system,

Then to see yourself wasting your own life,
Not with bullets, but sloth,
Given the chance to start where he left,
Will affect you a lot,

More than just talk,
Describing everything,
Will ne'er have the affect of being shown,
Now, get up and show me that you're living.

No Home

Wind was howling last night,
Coldest night of the year,
At two a.m. people were walking home,
Oppressed to frozen tears,

I'm sure they had a good time at the bars,
Soon they'd be nice and warm,
Prob'ly fifteen minutes out in the cold,
Not a real reason to be so forlorn.

Now what if they did not have an abode,
Were living on the street?
Spending a night outside in wind and cold,
Like arctic hiker feats,

'Cept with no gear,
Or wish for adventure,
Just fell in life without a safety net,
Ne'er thinking it's something they'd need endure.

Making Sausages

I just made some sausage,
From pig shoulder to coil,
Cut it up, add lots of salt and pepper,
Then with your hands, you roil,

Grind it all with a powerful machine,
Fry some up to taste it,
Add more spices as you think you need to,
Wash the intestine casing, don't waste it,

Meat back in the grinder, new attachment,
Sleeve the casing on it,
Let out the skin as the meat funnels in,
It'll taste good, won't it?

Then take a rest,
'Fore cleaning up the mess,
You and your parents have done some hard work,
Making freezer-ready snacks out of flesh.

Read My Thoughts

Life would be unbear'ble,
If thoughts were readable,
So said this character on a sequel,
Who was so terrible,

Tort'ring and killing innocent people,
Strangling 'til they're purple,
Maybe his thoughts should not be sharable,
But I should hope he's swallowed a rare pill,

For human's're not gener'lly lethal,
-Not under a steeple-,
But much less daring and safely fearful,
With names like Maribel,

With thoughts thoughtful,
Sensitively careful,
These should be shared with the whole goddamn world,
Then we could find and destroy what's evil!

Cease-Fire Two

Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,
A cease fire in Ukraine?
Brokered by Russia's President Putin?
Doesn't that sound insane?

How can Russia cut a deal for rebels,
It's denied a link to?
Putin'll use his mind to pull out weapons?
I guess we'll see Feb fifteen, what he'll do.

Are the foreign armed formations Russia's,
That agreed to dis'ppear?
When asked by Harper to get out before,
Putin said, "we're not there."

Not complaining!
I'm all for no more war,
Nine hundred thousand displaced, thousands dead,
Makes you wonder what it's actually for.

This Is Your Life

So your TV's list'ning,
That's the big news today,
Fears that what's personal's sent to the web,
Own by a third partay,

Transcribed into text, kept for who knows what.
Is there a central file,
With your name on it, held by the gov'ment,
With your emails, Skypes and Facebooks compiled?

Will a computer scan through everything,
When you cross a border?
Will private eyes be able to hack it,
'Stead of plant recorders?

What would you think,
Could you see ev'rything?
A thousand photos of you without smiles,
The foibles of a real human being.

War Is A Drug

Hedges says war's a drug,
To live it is a high,
The exper'ence of things you shouldn't see,
Lose it, you want to die,

By engaging in some self-destruction,
Subconsciously or not,
Or your body simply decides it's done,
The war doesn't stop when you leave the front.

So it's die in a war among comrades,
Or alone with your thoughts,
Haunted by images only war lends,
Which you'd never have sought,

Fact, war's purpose,
We think is to end war,
But if people get addicted to it,
Makes you wonder what it's actually for.

No Help From The Government

It is adorable,
You think you are not screwed,
Ev'ry breath you take, by the government,
As if it's something new.

The country is run by normal people,
With normal folk foibles,
No abil'ty to see the big picture,
With a penchant for being gullible,

With large corporations with no scruples,
Inexhaustible funds,
Working for their millions of stock holders,
Who don't care how they've won,

You're all of them,
Both fingers and steeple,
You've been handed the rope to hang yourself,
And the Supreme Court just made it legal.

Morning

I'm watching Monster High,
There is lots of drama,
A little girl's eating a baby or'nge,
Watching all that she saw,

A boy's watching a video on games,
That he likes to play, too,
In pajamas, I try to concentrate,
A panettone inside of me, too,

Cars are swerving on the sleek snow outside,
If this morning ne'er stops,
A million waths and as many snuggles,
Will be what I adopt,

The werewolf's sad,
His girl is playing Scream,
But she will not let his chauvinism,
Make her abandon this new all-girl team.

Ode To My Mom

This one is for my mom,
Who's never stopped glowing,
Like any human, she succumbs to grief,
Yet, love don't stop flowing,

For the birds, sun and ev'ry living thing,
I'll have to find a quote,
From the thoughts I've seen written in her book,
To encapsulate her thinking in notes,

How the un'verse can and will speak to you,
If you listen to it,
It will grant to you what you most desire,
If you just ask of it,

Then let it go,
And live your life in full,
E'en in her darkest times she's no regrets,
She faces death like it will be joyful.

When I'm Awake

Let me dream forever,

Don't care about bed sores,

Or having to pee ev'ry now and then,

As long as I'm indoors,

As long as life stays as a fantasy,

I don't mind waking up,

For a few moments ev'ry now and then,

So I can eat breakfast, lunch and then sup,

If to pay for that food, I have to work,

I guess I'll do that, too,

If the rest of the time I could just dream,

There's naught I would not do,

I'd even fly,

Without the use of wings,

If only I could stay in bed and dream,

When I'm awake I would do anything.

Preserve Your Life

Life just keeps on trucking,
No matter what you do,
Live in the moment, drink or extreme sports,
It just won't wait for you,

So what would happen if you sped things up?
Let life chase you, instead.
Not sure what that would actually look like?
Remember ev'ry book you've ever read,

That showed you lives that you could imagine,
Living through as you are,
Whole stories wrapped up in thousands of words,
Like preserved in a jar.

Now take your own,
No, no, don't kill yourself!
Write your story from beginning to end,
Multiple times 'til you have a full shelf.

Alone

When you're feeling lonely,

It's not that you're alone,

There're plenty people within an arm's reach,

Just waiting to be known,

Who, yes, have lived a life up until now,

Outside of your presence,

Who know the effort involved connecting,

With other connections in existence,

But chances are that they are lonely, too,

It's hard to meet someone,

Who being with is like being alone,

Living in seclusion.

It's also hard,

Because you're where you are,

You can't step out and look back on yourself,

Without inflicting emotional scars. 

The Desert

Phoenix is a desert,

Though can't tell from looking,

Not one camel or scorpion or sand,

I was almost took in,

Until my first July day in that town,

Had to walk extra slow,

So hot you could fry eggs on the sidewalk,

Junk-packed yards with no concern for the snow,

There're some clues of the desert if you look,

Like the drunks on the street,

Not fettered by the need of keeping warm,

Desert dirt caking feet.

Oh, and sand storms,

Dust walls way, way up far,

You can lay concrete to cover the ground,

But nature ne'er let's you forget where you're.

Priority Boarding

If one's in the army,

In the United States,

When boarding a plane you get prior 'ty,

Aft babes with moms and mates,

Because their job is to essent'lly die,

If the pres'dent says to,

With the hope that it's for something worthwhile,

Like maintaining gen'ral freedom for you.

Must say the privileged seating's pretty sweet,

I'd like to know the odds,

Of being killed versus getting aisle seats,

Both bring you close to God.

And that's not all,

You travel quite a bit,

Freedom can be taken from as far as,

Any country with enough oil in it.

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.

The Countdown

Everyone e'er expects,
Changes come the New Year,
As if one day could differ from the rest,
To which spirits adhere.

Not even the day, but the hour it ends,
A countdown to mark it,
So much is forgotten, just shed away,
That the last year was so fucking tragic.

Though, I suppose there's something to be said,
For communal focus,
Surely, if change will ever act'lly come,
That could be the locus,

Of rev'lution,
There, I've said it again,
Like the child who asks for treats all the time,
I'm hoping to wear down your complacence.

Lying Down

Up there in the heavens,
I don't mean where god lives,
Where the human mind has placed all its fears,
Of the unknown life gives,

Nor do I speak of the clouds or dark space,
Where we're not meant to be,
Like the labyrinth of our organs or flesh,
Or the silent refuge of the deep sea.

There's an arena that is barred to most,
Where all dreams have come true,
Born by both luck and determination,
That is hard to get to,

Because of us,
We fear it and stop those,
Who dare to make that journey against odds,
In the name of a love only god knows.

There's A Lot

There's a lot happening,
No matter who you are,
Not e'en counting all the news that you hear,
From both near and from far,

Forget the drama 'mongst fam'ly and friends,
Though your support's needed,
Just as you count on them in your hard times,
When they'd much rather tell you to beat it,

Dismiss your past fails and your future goals,
That is all just gravy,
The dreams you remember when you wake up,
You just as well may's sleep.

Without all that,
There's still a lot about,
To distract your mind and drain your spirit,
Without even both'ring venturing out.

Time Flies

New Year's fast approaching,
If that means anything,
'Cause so is Valentines and Fam'ly Day,
All very exciting,

Dates that assist you accelerate time,
'Cause anticipation,
Is as good as good ol' reminiscence,
In distracting you from concentration,

On the moment in which you are living,
Else you'd live forever,
For how could time e'er move if you stop it?
Wouldn't that be clever?

Do what you want,
It's your life, after all,
I'll be sitting with my head in the clouds,
Spending my whole life trying not to fall.

Getting It Done

When you're wishing something,
And finally it comes,
You sometimes don't know what to do with it,
Not 'cause it's not welcome,

It is because as you have been waiting,
Life has been happening,
Making you wish for some moments of peace,
'Fore you take advantage of your winnings,

For that is what life does to everyone,
E'en when you follow dreams,
It is such a winding road you must take,
You'll wonder where you've been,

You've been living,
For even though life's brief,
If you subtract all the time you must waste,
It is a wonder anyone can breath.

Rebirth

The year's almost over,
How do you feel 'bout that?
If you follow that way to measure time,
Or consider time fact,

Or think there is value in what has passed,
Lessons for the future,
Fodder for reliving joy in hard times,
Just'fication for what you've done to her.

Is the new cycle a chance to fix things,
Or to start things over,
As if what's past has no bearing no more,
And no affect on her?

Well, in the end,
You prob'ly will ne'er know,
Your choices may turn out not to matter,
Opinion all by which you had to go.

Two Worlds

The line is getting thick,
Between the world's two worlds,
One side claims to be defending the right,
And following the rules,

Th'other side says it's defending the right,
And following the rules,
Both sides have been known to repress people,
Accusing th'other of threat'ning the world,

What happens when more countries take a side,
Could be quite dramatic,
We've yet to see what new world weapons do,
When they really go at it!

That'd be something,
Same old story, again,
Ideologies can't seem to exist,
Knowing others are still in existence.

What You Do

You want to get things done,
Stuff that you love to do,
Not that you need for keeping soci`ty,
Functioning around you?

Not tasks that you are responsible for,
Or that are expected,
Nothing to do with where you were brought up,
Or loved ones to which life has connected?

Something you consider your real purpose.
Do you know what that is?
The thing you want despite everything,
That makes life serious.

I cannot help,
No one else knows but you,
Though, if you're not bothered that you don't know,
You're perfectly suited to what you do.

When

When you've a sunny day,
When all should be drabby,
When the music all around's festive,
When you ain't that happy,

When the few days before factors imposed,
When you thought they wouldn't,
Whenever it was, wherever you were,
When those around you said that you couldn't,

When the news from the world was less than grand,
When was it e'er, really?
When so much happens each and ev'ry breath,
When you've lost all feeling,

When do you change?
When the universe does?
When the sunny day drabs like a bummer,
When you've finally exhausted all loves?

Two Stories

I agree that it's sad,
I choose The Interview,
To discuss, instead of The Massacre,
The Taliban did do.

The one is about computer hackers,
Working for Kim-Jong Un,
Though North Korea's telling the U.S.
Dark Seoul Gang's not their organization.

The other's a sad story of revenge,
By ruthless Taliban,
Who killed young children 'cause they lost soldiers;
Don't see the connection?

They both remind,
You can be innocent,
Trying to live in peace and to let live,
Still, others can destroy your contentment.

Wait a Minute

Time will certainly pass,
Away from life, to'ards death,
The minute you leave's took from what you have,
Each lost's two minutes less.

But ev'ry minute can't all be precious,
You need time to reflect,
For the search for meaning's where value's found,
E'en though the point is you'll never find it.

But, don't lose yourself in that black abyss,
That is just a death, too,
Hard to scrape out of, once you've surrendered,
To its dark grasp on you.

Here's what to do:
Laugh at how you're walled in.
That will give you the teetering balance,
To appreciate the gap, not fall in.

Let the Future Stand

There is a future,
Carrying us along,
Rec'gnized by some, though oft incorrectly,
In reports, chat and song,

For the future's not something to be told,
No story's that complete,
Oh god, let me never know what is next,
For I'd resist it with tenacity!

My need for the unknown would override,
Any establishment,
Plus, the minute details knowledge contains,
Would test my temperment.

Then there is love,
The enemy of fact,
Living in gaps 'tween rotting real'ty,
Flourishing from the certainty it lacks.

World Games

Well, this cannot be good,
I'm not a fan of oil,
But these low prices are fanning a fire,
And tempers will soon boil,

Most notably in the great bear Russia,
Where interest rates spiked,
Their media toning down the import,
Though it won't take time for fears to be hiked,

People taking to the streets in anger,
The army lashing out,
A desp'rate country defying the world,
Its pride never in doubt.

Is it OPEC,
Trying to stir the pot?
Something inside me can't shake the feeling,
Some wealthy minds have concocted a plot.

Give

Remind people to give,
It's an important thing,
E'en though the ninety-nine percent are poor,
And the one, uncaring,

Even though the invention of money,
Has caused the need to give,
Well, act'lly the distribution of wealth,
Which transcends the structure in which we live,

E'en though you think the poor don't deserve it,
They don't try hard enough,
Which is per the structure in which we live,
That requires we buy stuff,

That we don't need,
Leaving less for others,
And the fear that if we don't buy those things,
The structure in which we live could suffer.

Full Circle

The good ol' U.S.A,
Has avoided shut-down,
Two-nineteen to two-oh-six was the vote,
With a small addition,

Rules put on banks 'cause of two thousand eight,
And the mortgage breakdown,
Will be eased due to Citigroup pressure,
As will already lame enforcement clowns.

It takes so much moxie for protesters,
To keep demanding rights,
While it's easy for banks to pay lawyers,
It is a losing fight.

'Less the next fight,
Is a balls out real brawl,
The majority coming out with strength,
The suits getting pommeled once and for all.

China's Gambit

There's nothing China does,
Without ultimate ends,
This is no different for any country,
They all trick their cit'zens,

To thinking one way, least that's what they try,
But China propogates,
'Cause its structure seems so diff'rent from mine,
A specimen I can investigate.

Like its new commemoration today,
Aft' seventy-sev'n years,
Of the Nanjing massacre by Japan,
A country that it fears.

It makes you think,
'Spite what Pres Xi might say,
It's a gambit to get his people prepped,
For confrontation with Japan one day.

No Reflection of Me

Anyway, one can't live,
Unless that life is being examined,
Whether painful or not,
All pimped out or damaged,

A reflection of one's dreams or nightmares,
It's really all the same,
The value of your life's your awareness,
For no one determined the way they came.

P'haps if there was a pre-birth registry,
So we could map life out,
From how we are raised to our thoughts at death,
Void of all fear and doubt,

Then poems'd be glad,
Diversions from more glad.
With no disappointments of which to write,
Poets would have no audience for sad.

Are You In or Out?

There are two worlds, you know,
One inside and one out,
The former guides what you should do outside,
While the latter holds out.

Inside, you feel anything's possible,
They're called your wildest dreams,
Things the outside spurns as impossible,
For you have e'er been given your regime.

There are some who call this cries of the weak,
They don't accept the laws,
Or the feelings of those who've embraced them,
Dismissed as a lost cause.

Then there are those,
Who can't make up their mind,
'Bout which of the worlds should take precedence,
And which is more real, the in or outside.

In Time

If I had a minute,
For every hour gone,
Spent not appreciating that time ends,
Many years before long,

I'd have six thousand hours to continue,
Doing the 'xact same thing,
Not sure if it's disease of just my mind,
Or if everyone is the same as me,

For even those who live in the  moment,
Must combine that with thought,
Forever reminding themselves that life,
Seems long, but it is not.

Well, that's a lie,
When time is infinite,
And one experiences existence,
'Long' and 'short' have no meaning inside it.

Morning

The day started like most,
First get up, then get dressed,
Complete the daily routine one e'er has,
To help control the mess,

Driving away, maybe after two miles,
The world shook back to view,
Realizing until that moment the haze,
My mind was floating, not sure what to do,

Back on earth, back on its familiar route,
There was nothing to grasp,
Happy to be blown by the winds of chance,
Loose of all chain and hasp.

It is there, still,
Is it exploring new,
Testing the strength of pretense on this earth,
Or just cloudy, awaiting the day's brew?

The Search for Justice

If you dream of justice,
What would it look like?
Balancing scales, or a sword in your hand,
Or just a sleepless night?

Would you want to remember a thing,
Or have it disappear,
Like the dreams you had as you laid in bed?
Only in dreams does justice seem so near.

If it is a scale, balancing is hard,
What two things weigh the same?
The sword rests the power in just one hand,
Feeding on fear of pain.

But then there's sleep,
Harmless to everyone,
Utopia based on unconsciousness,
Inspiration for the next rev'lution.

Good Day

There's four walls around you,
Lights from 'lectricity,
The sound of air rushing in through the vents,
A cop show on TV.

There is a time when you will have to leave,
Keep an eye on the clock,
Think of all the other ones in the world,
Occupied by exactly the same thoughts,

Moving through exactly the same routine.
Doesn't that connect you,
To the pulse of the way things work 'round here?
Give life to what you do?

It's like we're one,
We've figured out the way,
To live separately from each other,
Knowing we are all facing the same day.

While There's Time

This is not happening,
Just a throw-away poem,
No time, no inspiration, no reason,
But still, I must go on.

There is no train of thought on which to board,
Can life be that empty,
Even for the space of a few minutes,
In a hotel room, in briefs, in Cinty,

With so much moving? Still no time for thought,
Will the final chapter,
In the final breaths left to us on earth,
Be too rushed to matter?

We'll never know,
Until that chapter comes,
But if the last five minute's any clue,
I'd better make meaning while there is sun!

Riding on a Jet Plane

I'm getting on a plane,
Gonna fly through the air,
Held in metal, so I don't feel the wind,
A fact I find unfair.

There's nothing I like more, when in a car,
Than to act like a dog,
Holding my head out the window so glad,
That the air should massage off the smog,

That nothing should stall in my pers'nal space,
'Magine what a plane'd do!
I'd be in a world free of anything,
That could threaten my view,

Of the real truth,
That we are all alone,
Feeling the breeze of life's impressive speed,
Barreling us to adventures unknown.

Into It

I need to be faster,
Within the time allowed,
To do everything I need to do,
E'er I'm in my death shroud,

The things one dreams of in these free moments,
Not occupied by life,
As presented by soci'ty at birth,
Marked by anxiety, pressures and strife,

Moments that are far and so few between,
Short, even at one's birth,
And not recognized for their preciousness,
'Til life's half-lived on earth.

Not complaining!
Can be no other way,
It's not the world you're born into that counts,
It is the one that you've managed to make.

Charizard_567

Henry made a vid'o,
And it really is good,
Fashioned after his fave, Stampylonghead,
In the MineCraft play world.

I'm impressed by his nat'ral confidence,
Coupled with raw talent,
He always wanted a YouTube channel,
And I am so proud that he accomplished it,

From the beginning he had a vision,
He has much more in wait,
An instinct about what works and doesn't,
Impressive at just eight.

That is my boy!
I have little worry,
If he wants to live off his creations,
My old-age home will be paid for, surely :)

The Spectacle

I'm one who gets teary,
By varied spectacles,
Caught up in the emotional journey,
Shared by other people,

Shows with dancers in animal costumes,
Telling a tale for kids,
An ad where someone overcomes all odds,
The ceremonies for the Olympics,

News reports about peoples' protests,
The thought of injustice,
Being cheered by strangers on a long run,
Even some top ten lists.

All of these things,
Can be defined as art,
A shared experience that breaks through life,
It's pageantry that moves my heart.

Words

Choose your words carefully,
Most people just cannot,
Mind reacting to the body's instincts,
Thought not happ'ning a lot,

As if words aren't real magic at work,
Both if spoken or not,
Expressing your perception of this world,
And the f'd up pictures with which it's fraught.

But should you be truthful to what you see,
The words with which it's caught,
Will mold to the perceptions of others,
Becoming all they've sought,

To get it all,
For we have all been taught,
That the meaning of life's the holy grail,
And that this life could be your only shot.

What Is The Syrian Electronic Army?

Who are the SEA,
Who hacked the CBC,
Replacing the day's news with its logo?
An eagle, it seems to me.

They are a group of young Syrians whose,
Electronic Army,
Fight against the distorted facts spewed out,
By the press about their country's uprising.

They use the most modern of war's weapons,
Cyber propaganda,
Under the eye of the Assad regime,
Though they would deny that's their employa,

One day we'll see,
On screens across the world,
A virt'al battle of army logos.
May that replace the gore of missiles hurled.

Gomeshi Turns Himself In

So he's turned himself in,
Not guilty is his plea,
One hundred grand of bail in his pocket,
He can pay to be free,

Though he's missing the two for one bargain,
For time spent on remand,
If he's jailed for the hitting and choking,
He'll serve full time and lose the hundred grand!

He must have some confidence with Henein,
"Good as they get," I've scanned,
Defending a man by now convicted,
By public opinion.

If he's set free,
Will that prove everything?
Do the courts hold sway over the people's mind,
Like Ferguson and Michael Brown's shooting?

Happiness

What will make you happy,
They say's not outside you,
It's in your pow'r to mold your perspective,
But not what's in your view,

Or rather, what is in your view may change,
You've no control o'er that,
'Cept in so far as you can live with it,
Even make it enjoyable, in fact.

For when you try to mold the world, it's hard,
Won't do what you want to,
There's too many factors, much you don't know,
And nil to do with you.

It's state of mind,
This thing called happiness,
Of course, this is a simplification,
Just ask those being tortured and repressed.

It's Already Been Said

There's so much created,
That speaks to not just you,
But too, not to everyone in the world,
Even to quite a few.

Whatever it is offends their senses,
That's what we all must get,
You can't please all the people all the time,
Oh, wait, that is a saying, isn't it?

But if we all just acknowledged that piece,
Won't we all also give,
That the best we can hope for in this world,
Is to live and let live?

That rings a bell!
Maybe school should just teach,
Every cliché ever written first,
'Fore showing the heights each student can reach.

A Travesty of Justice

The grand jury is out,
Out to lunch, some might say,
Jamming the verdict of Darren Wilson,
And so justice's day,

Because they're aware that their decision,,
Which is let that cop go,
Who shot and killed Michael Brown, who was brown,
Will lead to mass protest from all who know,

That young, young Michael`s hands were up that night,
That he was not a threat,
Now the gov's taking this time to prepare,
For violence and riots.

That they will cause,
By the preparation,
For why would humans resort to such things,
If not faced with extreme situations?

What's Out There

There is just no value,
That I can see right now,
That one don't need dig to the depths of depths,
To be reminded how,

Whether you think we are different from beasts,
There's one diff'rence distinct,
We are not them and can't feel as they do,
Nor do we share anyway how they think.

But that is the same, even between them,
Just as it is 'tween us,
Left to mould our own world, the kinds would sure,
Be multitudinous.

For no one knows,
I mean no man or beast,
What is in the mind of anyone else,
Across land, air, outerspace or the seas.

Please Complain

It's ok to complain,
This world just is not fair,
With all the expectations given you,
From the day you're dropped there.

No one likes listening to you say it,
They all think there's no hope,
They are determinists in their own way,
Like finding time to chase your dream's a joke,

That's why with your complaints you must make sure,
To show it can be done,
That it's possible to express yourself,
Without revolution.

Then they will see,
That free will's not a trope,
That complaining's a tool of the few ones,
Pulling society's tug-of-war rope.

In This Life

She has it, yet again,
Still her smile never fades,
Though one might argue it belies her pain,
It's a brave front she's made,

Or, she truly feels as she e'er declares,
At peace with her journey,
Just as we all strive for in our own life,
Though it is a state mislaid by many,

Feared for its undeniability,
It is filed as a cliché,
But in the end, all you have is yourself.
What will you think of you your final days?

No regrets, I'm sure,
After all, you'h'd one chance,
To find, then lose yourself, in what gives joy,
A guide for all who wake up in this dance.

To Know

Authoritarian.
That's got six syllables,
First that I found in a list on the net.
Illuminationing!

It is not that I'm looking for a theme,
That's for readers to find,
Like the events of the world are random,
Until a paper is written with 'whys'.

But there is no reason things can't happen,
Serendipitously,
Like my son said, we can't trust her answers,
Talking about Siri.

'Cause she can't know,
Categorically,
That insects have feelings, for example,
She's hampered by human ability.

Call You

What's really in a name?
A rose is a rose, no?
We can dig as deep as we want, to learn,
And what we see's what we know,

I'll tell you what is really in a name,
The thing that it is for,
What it is colors the letters and words,
Enlivening them with a living soul,

The soul comes from the utterer herself,
It dies with her, also.
A thing don't exist with no eyes on it,
Nor does something unknown.

But I know you,
Your name's etched in my mind,
It will never mean anything but you,
For someone more unique I'll never find.

Writing Life

Is life like a story?
The creation of one?
Does a life well-lived have many layers,
And plot evolution?

Should one strive for a literature life?
One where no word's wasted,
Much is left for others to figure out,
Contemplating motive, like your face did,

When the content was like a waking dream,
Absurd but so normal,
Should one's choices all have the art in mind,
Asking the point of all?

Should we be books,
Using life as pages,
Constantly asking in ev'ry moment,
'What's up next?' as the storm inside rages?

What's The Point?

Well, the snow has fallen,
The world looks different,
Of course, it is never the same way twice,
From minute to minute.

Your thoughts change the way the world looks to you,
Your feelings do the same,
Just like the Earth can thwart your cries for sun,
With unceasing dreary days and hard rain,

Just like you find yourself where you thought,
You'd never go yourself,
For life comes with no guidance how to live,
Not penned by someone else.

So, what to do,
When asking what's the point?
Well, no one's lived 'til that question's been asked,
Nor has their world changed until it's been coined.

Innocence

This is what I'm thinking,
And it is not a lot,
There, I'm done, and now my eyes will wander,
Without another thought.

I contemplate the items around me,
There's not one nat'ral thing,
Even if I look out of the window,
I see artificial everything,

The guy coaxing his leashed dog in the car,
Trees planted in their place,
Bushes and flowers from other countries,
And my reflected face.

It will not change,
It's the world where we live,
Now I've got to snuggle with my daughter,
And bask in her natural innocence.

Touch

Look all around yourself,
All the colours and shapes,
The greens, the greys, the curved lines and the straight,
Your toes and other traits,

Things given by your eyes, if you can see,
Things assumed to be there,
Things that you pick up and manipulate,
Things you collect, own and for which you care,

That you surround yourself with like a cloak,
To never see the things,
That don't have walls or windows to look out,
That are just existing.

When's the last time,
You truly touched the earth?
Things not cultivated by humankind,
Without donning protective clothing first?

Unfair Expectations

Talk 'bout stereotypes,
No one thinks they are good,
They not only perpetuate fictions,
But make sometimes to shoulds,

And the sometimes should be allowed for all,
Not just a certain group,
The shoulds should never, not even sometimes,
Be imposed on anyone in this soup,

Of completely unique and free people,
Who, with no presumption,
Would not think there'd e'en sometimes be a should.
There's no motivation,

Again, we're free,
To think, 'cause I'm a dad,
That I'm the fun one, or can't wash my kids,
Think 'bout it, negates me and makes me sad.

Spilling Your Soul

What is the benefit,
Of pouring out your guts?
Of sharing with someone everything,
What you would rather not?

Is seeing your thoughts from another's eyes,
Going to change your mind?
Put them in a sphere outside of yourself,
And see yourself within all humankind.

Or maybe you want to infiltrate it,
Spread your thoughts, so one day,
There's no question why you do what you do,
So you e'er have your way.

Or you afraid,
That you do not exist,
In the mental world you're supposed to be,
And need mental corrective assistance?

Opportunity

Opportunity knocks,
Or, so that's what they say,
It doesn't really matter where you are,
It just tap taps, one day,

You need to be aware of everything,
Hear every sound around,
Because the knocking could happen on wood,
But it could come as a much diff'rent sound.

You could be in a line at a coffee shop,
It could be an ahem,
From a person who, if you got to know,
Could lead you to heaven.

Was that your break?
Fate's not going to tell,
And you can't hear absolutely all things,
Oh, and some knocks can actu'lly lead to hell.

Work

I've fin'lly figured out,
What it is about work,
For I have always felt it is absurd,
No, I've felt it's berserk.

That one spends the majority of life,
Doing something random,
Just to make enough money to live life,
Not that I am afraid of exertion,

It is just that the world that we have built,
Is so complicated,
The 'work' we do's not linked with survival,
No fish need be bated,

No choice exists,
There really are no words,
To ponder what to do with the free time,
Earned once our food and shelter is secured.

I Don't Know

What can you do yourself,
That only you can do,
That's never been done in the world's his'ry,
Except by only you?

And it's enough that only you know it,
For it will be forgot,
No matter how many times it's passed down,
For Time will end and it's all that you've got.

But in your mind you can live forever,
Even space is nothing,
Imagine the power of your knowledge,
Of your unique doings.

For nothing else,
Can be known in this place,
Except what you personally belief,
If you don't know, it's in front of your face.