The Good Ol' Days

I'd like to say step back,
Back to the good old days,
When love and equality were normal,
Before media haze,

When we weren't told what we should think 'bout,
When injustice was clear,
Race, gender, beliefs didn't mean a thing,
Encounter and pet a bear without fear,

When people would go without luxury,
To afford others meals,
Community was 'bout mut'al support,
When we strove for ideals,

That had been, right?
I'm not imag'ning it?
Else we're telling ourselves that's what we want,
While we are striving for something diff'rent,

Time To Go

I don't have much time, now,
None of us really do,
At least, not when you stop to think 'bout it,
It's not all that imbues,

There are also those things that erase time,
Joy, love and excitement,
If you are lucky, they will pay the bills,
Else your mind is osc'llating betwixt them,

A constant distraction from what is real,
Joy, love and excitement,
This ain't a problem, for a moment of one,
Is the whole sentiment,

Of what life is,
You can die after that,
The rest is just striving for it again,
Or forgetting you were ever that glad.

The Tough Questions

Where's the social justice,
When you're traversing beds,
Discovering treasures that are not there,
For hours and hours on end,

When protesters born in another land,
Beaten at the White House,
As a cam'ra shot sent back to Turkey,
To remind the world just who is the mouse?

A useless gesture appropriated,
Yes, that is what I said,
We keep talking about needing to talk,
Everyone's afraid,

Of saying boo,
Well, that's just what they want!
While they manufacture their own consent,
We don't fight back 'cause we're convinced we can't.

Debate

If you are divided,
On what 'tis you should think,
You are at least a step closer to truth,
Than a nudge and wink, wink,

Than a rash response to a discomfort,
An aversion to work,
The kind of time needed to understand,
To stand up to the evil that e'er lurks,

That aims to pit human against human,
So divided we fall,
Stifled as soon as we choose to speak up,
By other made people,

Taught to be small,
Minded being called out,
Confused into thinking about ourselves,
Then paralyzed by subsequent self-doubt.

Reconciliation

You understand others,
By walking in their shoes,
Feeling the pain that's rooted in their past,
A bomb set with a fuse,

Hidden under a thin layer of soil,
Like it's not even there,
It doesn't take much to expose the wick,
With roots exposed, they will now live in fear,

Others can now see how to set them off,
Trust me, there're those who will,
Out of the fear of exposure themselves,
You must kill or be killed,

So don't change shoes,
They tie their own tighter,
Instead of respect they hurl out insults,
Instead of making love, they make fighters.

Indian Horse

There are things that are wrong,
That's what his body knew,
Without his family to tell him so,
His mind hid it, in lieu,

Pushed him instead to the happy actions,
Hockey distracted pain,
But then even that was taken from him,
The prejudice of the whites was insane,

He was forced fight instead of playing,
His only freedom lost,
They told him that he had a chance at life,
But left out at what cost.

What would you do?
Numb the pain with drinking?
Try to escape from this world of abuse,
That called you names as it watched you sinking?

The Comers

When my dad was eighteen,
He came from Italy,
Lived with his Paesan' in St. Catharines,
For moolah liberty,

It wasn't hard to work in construction,
Basic'lly wop country,
Still the foreman yelled you better work hard,
There's a ship coming filled with more of ye,

This was the treatment of the new comers,
By the newly arrived,
Who'd already displaced the existing,
Indigenous one's lives,

Systemat'cly,
Stamped white into their kin,
While ensuring they'll never be equal,
Ident'fied by the color of their skin.

In Bloom

He tore his dress away,
It was ne'er meant to be,
There were too many demons in his brain,
They cloud up what he sees,

Then there's the one sat behind ev'ryone,
Plugged in somewhere unknown,
The connection was made through other ways,
So he could still play completely alone,

The crowd didn't know what they're looking at,
Still couldn't look away,
Felt what was happening was important,
To all their future days.

They still look back,
It doesn't matter who,
Ev'rything was smashed as matter of course,
My god, how this planet could use more youth.

My Eyes!

I can't stand the backlight,
My eyes have revolted,
Thank god I learned to type back in highschool,
S'os to lean back my head,

I close my eyes and the light still pours through,
My brain is now hurting,
If screens were not so integral to life...
But why e'en muse, there is no refuting,

If I could just get away for one day,
Nay, let's make that a year,
To be among what we just call nature,
I could 'gain be a seer,

Of what there is,
Not what is presented,
There's enough to look at without pixels,
Just shut it down if god did not send it.

The Ideal

There'll be the perfect storm,
Of outrage and action,
Incredulity aligned 'cross the world,
And every faction,

A global foot put down 'gainst injustice,
Condemning the rich few,
Supporting a system that needs the poor,
Building the chains with which they are subdued,

Who would probably do the same if let,
E'en just for avengment,
But mostly because when your comfortable,
You think you deserve it,

Not that you don't,
But so does ev'ryone,
So now we ask ourselves, are we ready,
To organize such an equal nation?

Happy Anniversary

Fifty-one years ago,
Or is it fifty-two?
A young man married a younger woman,
Now, what is he to do?

It wasn't long ago he was thinking,
"We can finally live,
Done with this life's responsibilities,
To you, love, your rewards I can now give,

You no longer have to care for others,
Let me take care of you,
The struggle, the toil, your sacrifices,
We can start fresh, anew."

But then, she died,
He is left with his guilt,
Alone, he tries his best to speak to her,
He can almost hear her bright, smiling lilt.

Her Journals

You used to write of birds,
The thoughts that they must spawn,
Free as they are from the human follies,
Of selfish ambition,

There is naught to prove they're any less deep,
A cocky presumption,
That our blundering grope for some meaning,
Shows we possess some greater perception.

"But what," you said, "do we have on the birds?"
Content in their motions,
If any faith at all can be granted,
To our observations,

Which are oft base,
Grounded in aversion,
More than likely we're observed from on high,
An example of nature's perversion.

A Meditation On Hal Niedzviecki

This one is truly tough,
For't speaks to soci'ty,
Not whether the left has become fascist,
Or fears controversy,

Certainly if one wishes no offence,
There's two needs that I see,
First that the speaker has good intentions,
Then, th'list'ner must believe his amity,

Wait, there's more to it than just those factors,
Such a world must exist,
Either as an ideal or what we want,
Where there's no prejudice,

Not one doubter,
T'upset the apple cart,
Either we're all in for the perfect world,
Or we should chalk any such thoughts to art.

Down Below

The bottom of your breath,
Provides you an escape,
A moment where nothing is happening,
Where nothing is too late,

Where you exist 'tween you and you one day,
Like waiting for a plane,
There is all you will do when you arrive,
Not yet real, but existing on a plane,

There is e'er the chance you will not arrive,
Things out of your control,
Fear of alighting where you want to be,
To then answer your soul.

"So, where to now?
You're who you wished to be,
Now that you are no longer traveling,
Do you think you can comfortably breathe?"

Hidden Figures

I sometimes cry at films,
Get caught in spectacle,
Usually the surmounting of odds,
Threat’ning what’s respect’ble,

The allowance of one to live freely,
Why is that my trigger?
Born maybe in the most lib’ral of states,
Plus I am white, also male, go figure,

There is no battle I am forced to fight,
Near the truly oppressed,
Nor would my fights ever lead to bloodshed,
If I e’er chose to press,

Which I have not,
Because, well, I don’t know,
My heart bleeds for those who have overcome,
Surely for it’s a courage I wish show.

The Drop Off

Not sure if this is sketch,
Standing outside this store,
Waiting for someone I have never met,
It is new age rapport,

The last stanza will tell if this was wise,
Digital rendez-vous,
But the sun is out and people around,
There isn't much this guy could really do,

The only real risk is the merchandise,
Will it do what it should,
Am I buying something that is stolen,
From someone who's not good,

Well there you go,
He was such a nice guy!
Though I shouldn't have asked him out for beers,
That is out of the scope of online buys.

Too Much to Do

Will I shower today?
That is a great question,
It's not the default in my daily life,
Has your respect lessened?

For there was a time when bathing was rare,
Yes, and so was long life,
But it's qual'ty not quantity we seek,
Like a metal on the edge of a knife,

Or like paradise by the dashboard light,
Soap will affect your taste,
You will lose the oils that give you your smell,
The time will make you haste,

Yet still you judge,
Bathing's ushered in health,
At what price have we bought this steril'ty?
Hasn't it washed away our sense of self?

Snoozing

Hard to get out of bed,
Though body's not in pain,
Sleep hours were in line with what one should get,
The day's prospect's the same,

But there is something about seclusion,
Like walls are protecting,
You from the inevitable outside,
Still, you're trying to dislodge from time's wing,

To institute a minor hiatus,
A regroup for your brain,
Mixed in with your schedule anxiety,
Making your problem plain,

You are human,
You have human problems,
The universal ones of survival,
Mixed with injustice, thoughts and emotions.

The Gap After The Down Breath

Didn't know where you were,
But hoped that you were near,
It is strange, but if I thought you were gone,
I'd have no strength 'gainst fear,

I know that's what you lived with all your life,
You wrote enough 'bout that,
But would you have changed your life 'nother,
Or spend any time of life looking back?

Well, you would and you did 'cause you told me,
I read your diary,
Both personal and a guide to living,
If that you act'lly be,

I'll never know,
Nor do you want me to,
True joy rests in finding your pers'nal path,
Maybe it's enough I fin'lly found you.

What You Are

It is day three of four,
The rain's supposed to fall,
It will be a sign for some of cleansing,
For the guilt in her soul,

She will walk into the past to the times,
She has cringed to think of,
Take herself by the hand, pointing forward,
To see the future self that she will love,

That the moment from which they now view her,
A step along the path,
Was maybe not necessary, but was,
Is what the future hath.

It cannot change,
But would you if you could,
Risk changing the person that you are now?
Then you've bigger problems than all your shoulds.

Accept You

Look at your future self,
Walking along ahead,
You may not catch up to him, but you can,
Follow in his footsteps,

Just make sure he's someone you want to be,
The future's not one path,
But if you are, summon him back to you,
For, my friend, there are questions you must ask,

Or rather, an assessment you must make,
How does he make you feel?
It is time that you confess to yourself,
That who you are is real,

You're no one else,
There is no way to be,
Like molecules of water seem the same,
There is only one of each in the sea.

Mind Palace

The warehouse was massive,
Curiosities stacked,
Why I thought to go was a good notion,
Is still an unknown fact,

Surrounded by an angry, confused mob,
I soon feared for my life,
Until it was clear they'd no direction,
I picked out one to represent my strife,

We agreed we should all sit down to talk,
Soon their tumult was clear,
They refocused themselves to reorganize,
I helped myself to beer,

It was a mind,
If the metaphor's lost,
Whether it was mine or someone else's,
Is a thought that shows that the meaning was lost.

Correspondence

It's not the quantity,
Of the minutes you spend,
How many have you wasted just thinking,
'bout what's going to happen,

A future that's truly unknowable?
C'mon, you know what I mean,
Trying hard thinking you know what you want,
Leaving ev'rything around you unseen,

Looking back to understand the present,
The two do not relate,
'cept so far as the former defines you,
Orchestrating your fate,

You never know,
Mostly, it is just you,
You choose what it is that you focus on,
Which defines where it is you're heading to.

The Toxic Rupture

It's not the destruction,
That's unavoidable,
The death and pandemonium just are,
And irreversible,

It's who is around when the dust settles,
To then clean up the mess,
How they treat those with lost and broken parts,
Are they dismissive or use tenderness?

Do they show that despite life's cruelty,
There's still love to be found,
That what it does is unpredictable,
But on you they can count?

Y'know, like a rock,
Virt'ly unbreakable,
Not moved by the whims of the sky or sea,
Refuge when factors are unbearable.

A Regrouping

These moments are not fair,
Some choose not to see them,
For fear it pulls them into depression,
As slow as teeth ease in,

Others embrace them like that's all there is,
Which is impossible,
They paint all good times like feeling the wind,
Like an insurmountable obstacle,

Not to say that life's a bowl of cherries,
Y'can't be a thing you make,
It's a dichotomy of good and bad,
Both of them claim a stake,

Not ev'rywhere,
There's e'er ambivalence,
The place from which you see them coexisting,
Despite a wholly lack of evidence.

Dashed Dreams

Live in expectation,
P'haps you'll get what you want,
Many a mogul first visualized,
What most of us cannot,

The accumulation of untold wealth,
Why would you want to say?
Buy cars worth more than a house when you could,
Feed thousands of poor for pennies a day.

Or forget possessions, what about love?
Some say they are the same,
A lucky few will get just what they want,
Without heartbreak or pain,

Then there is you,
Ever disappointed,
Wanting but going by it the wrong way,
You refuse to go where you are pointed.

Ascending Down

It's not so much the heat,
It's the humidity,
It's not so much that I'm a hated man,
As how it affects me,

Live and let live is the rich man's motto,
It's simple to afford,
Altruism's inversely related,
To how much life's horrid,

You must scrape together what you can,
For the necessities,
Talcom powder, shorts and very thick skin,
For the hatred one sees,

By those hated,
That is the irony,
Of course, spread the wealth evenly to all,
There will still be reason for jealousy.

Jorge Lime Seed

Ever get a tree seed,
Bestowed by a poet,
On tarmac midst an heavenly garden?
If you haven't, do it,

No need to wonder what you'll do with them,
They will find their way home,
Like us all, they are drawn down to the ground,
Unlike us, they've naught for which to atone,

You will find your way back from whence you came,
Not from whence you were born,
Alone in a bed, where else should you be,
When you're feeling forlorn?

You take the seeds,
Wish they'd grow in your palm,
Branches to take you high up to the sky,
With naught but A Hawke's limes for consumption.

Miami Beach Conventions

The least of our problems,
Were wet patches of mud,
If you looked down to try to avoid them,
You'd be squashed with a thud,

We stayed close, following the ones who knew,
Vests bright so to be seen,
If I hadn't passed the dinner tables,
I would have assumed they couldn't have been,

Each step uncovered a new obstacle,
Ne'er mind the acrid dust,
The only way out was to just accept,
Accept we knew we must,

So must you all,
Or, you know, I guess don't,
There are diff'rent ways to navigate life,
But if you expect it to bend, it won't.

On Stage

These words spoken to you,
In weak, quavering voice,
Do not quite understand their existence,
Don't know they have a choice,

As do the eardrums they manipulate,
To be there completely,
If ev'rbody simply lived this way,
All the world would be filled with poetry,

But more is the case we speak for ourselves,
Then that is all we hear,
A habit not born of solipsism,
But debil'tating fear,

Of what we know,
That there's no difference,
Between what any of us are saying,
We're trying to describe the same presence.

Finding Your Self

The day is so sunny,
The earth's awash with light,
Light is the nourisher of honesty,
Precursor of delight,

Delight may also be born of revenge,
Begot of broken heart,
Sister of unfulfilled expectations,
Whose spouse meticulously tore apart,

Casting darkness across the whole affair,
Alas, there goes the sun,
Blocked by clouds of distrustful, darkened thoughts,
In need of rev'lution,

Which is coming,
This fascism can't last,
Feel in your bones the sun deficiency,
You will fight for your own truth pretty fast.

As I Wait

'Tsnot as cold as could be,
The chill's just in my skin,
Besides, my home is cosy and toasty,
When I'm let in again,

But this beaded seat cover's a boon, too,
The coffee's strong and warm,
There's little risk of vi'lence on this street,
No last night's syringes scattered this morn,

The odd car drowns out the chirping of birds,
Both with places to go,
I flit 'tween varied messaging forums,
Alas, there's naught to show,

Though, I've a phone,
Reaching out's in my pow'r,
'Til the batt'ry dies, and I fall asleep,
Entering dreams e'en more lonely and dour.

In Case We Care

Is this where we're heading,
In line at Tim Horton's,
A conduit for the money we 'make',
For further consumption,

But not the kind that gives you sustenance,
It spawns anemia,
Until your heart's used to blood, thin and weak,
Waiting for the intelligentsia,

As the keepers of our morality,
Left stale and forgotten?
If it was my responsibility,
It wouldn't be rotten,

Not that we're bad,
We've just no direction,
It is time to reclaim independence,
If just to remember we are human.

Three Day Road

Let's forget he's a fake,
Co-opted a culture,
Won awards meant for a cheated people,
That his spirit animal's a vulture,

He may have reasons that are not selfish,
He might just be insane,
Whatever it is we've ere cleared our minds,
Because there is nothing we have to gain,

So then we focus only on his words,
Boy, what a tale he weaves,
Makes me wish there were even more awards,
To counteract the thieves,

To wit, us all,
Though we make no pretense,
It's bad enough we ignore the problem,
We punish those who come to their defense.

Daddy?

It was her voice, for sure,
As clear as the real thing,
Calling me, my vaudevillian daughter,
Rousing me from sleeping,

By the time I realized it was a dream,
It already woke me,
But in the dark I did not check the time,
It was a matter of self-perfidy,

For my body already knew the hour,
Too late to not be up,
Did I choose to ignore my dear girl's call,
So's not to interrupt,

My precious time?
I hope she understands,
I reserve my strength and spend no effort,
Except to bequeath her the upper hand.

Passed It

Mmm, it will all happen,
You can't stop it at all,
You have time, mass and karma against you,
Trust me, greater will fall,

You will die, too, that is an absolute,
Can't chalk that to theory,
Absorb all these facts, sit and meditate,
Only then will you no longer fear me,

You will wander the earth, but not be lost,
You'll e'er e'er arrive,
Not be distracted by the petty few,
Who are barely alive,

They don't matter,
Only those you love do,
The ones who don't need to hear what you say,
To once and completely understand you.

Little Brother

As a little brother,
I do appreciate,
The treasured joy reserved for just our ilk,
Almost considered fate,

Or p'haps a calling, futilely ignored,
Resting deep in our hearts,
Male or female, outside of race bound'ries,
Religion aside, something close to art,

The hidden hand hovering o'er a thigh,
Met with a harried cry,
"If you don't stop that I'm telling mother!"
"But dear mom, 'tis not I."

So innocent,
Yet devious, as well,
A childhood of practicing joy in pain,
A wonder more of us aren't in jail.

The Black Stallion

They had been through so much,
Each saved the other's life,
The one carried him to a distant shore,
A dark and stormy night,

The other, before, as the ship went down,
Untied him from his binds,
One a young boy now without a father,
Th'other a horse leaving freedom behind,

Neither of them will ever find the joy,
Shared alone on the beach,
Fin'lly steed and rider almost flying,
But for it they'll e'er reach,

Living moments,
That's what it's all about,
You can spend your time recapturing them,
Or forever trying to find them out.

Kids' Poetry Judge

How to judge poetry!
Oh, let me count the ways,
But before that, let it be understood,
It’s a treacherous maze,

First I took Beauty, Power, Thought and Fun,
Those, I weighed equally,
Then Message, Technique, Meter, Impact, Form,
Lastly, not least, Originality,

Scoring all these, I achieved some order,
But poems ain’t numbers,
So I wrapped my heart softly with your words,
Verse must rouse one’s slumber.

But they all did!
See the difficulty?
Keep on expressing yourself to the world,
Those that won represent you all to me.

To Date

Try to leave this shadow,
The movement into light,
If you think it may open horizons,
Well, you know, it just might,

May, too, expose you to all sorts of harm,
It's not safe to be seen,
It means your obscene opinion of things,
Can then be judged by all human beings,

You're not a silverback destined to rule,
To defend to the death,
When you die it will be on a soft bed,
With regret on your breath,

For what wasn't,
Also, for what there was,
Close your eyes, imagine you face it now,
That is what every fearless one does.

Public Speaking Fundamentals

The key to public speech,
Has been cast by science,
A recipe of various techniques,
On it we've reliance,

Just follow the steps and you've first built trust,
Then wowed with confidence,
Soon they will be like putty in your hand,
You'll even sway those who were on the fence,

Anyone can be taught how to do this,
Everybody should,
Then, maybe, we wouldn't always be duped,
By evil playing good,

We'd think for us,
And think of others, too,
Sure, charisma would be in short supply,
But p'haps the world won't be run by the few.

Be Safe

Let's talk about safety,
And what it means to you,
The thought that living long is important,
Sticks with all but a few,

But even Alfalfa was shot dead young,
With so much to live for,
What was he thinking in those final breaths,
That would have been wiser with ten years more?

Or is it that his encounter with death,
Shot in the groin o'er scratch,
Might have led to some change in perspective,
What plans might he have hatched?

Like living well,
The last of all regrets,
When there's nothing to risk, we play our cards,
Which is much too late to make any bets.

The Painting

After hours of painting,
Meticulous detail,
Stepping into and out of the picture,
Just your mind to avail,

It's not reality you're creating,
It's perception at best,
So, as eternal as all our minds are,
How do you judge if you need more or less?

I mean, you have to walk away sometime,
Decide you are all done,
Say, "not one more brush stroke will be needed,
To cap this expression."

Where is that line?
How to recognize.
To pinpoint where imagination ends,
is to understand the point where it dies.

Tiding

I do not mind waiting,
That's the thing about me,
Leave me sitting someplace for days on end,
I'll have made lemon tea,

Then while I drank it I'd think how lucky,
It was I had lemons,
Plus, apparently, a water kettle,
Talk about making peace from battlements,

I've never been one to just sit around,
Have I told you 'bout me?
You can step all over my heart and soul,
I'd repair them tout suite,

I'm not heartless,
Or there'd be naught to fix,
Nor is my soul stronger than the next guy's,
It's just any challenge gives me kicks.

Animals Are Beautiful People

Who is the animal,
Us humans or the beasts?
There appears to be less complication,
In the latter, at least,

Which is what all humans strive for, I think,
Some peace, simplicity,
We get complicated striving for it,
Then Stevie sings Living in the City,

Truth is, we are all cut from the same cloth,
Circumstances rule us,
Evolution is about adjusting,
Sometimes one's just callous,

Or else she dies,
No one wants to do that,
The key is acknowledging your actions,
As the best response to all the known facts.

Hold On To It

This is just amazing,
Really, what could beat it?
The last time I felt this good about things,
I was then defeated,

Staying on top is riding a fine line,
It's easy to fall down,
For you have to maintain what got you there,
Because success is a series of rounds,

To stay strong, in shape, you need to focus,
When you just want to play,
But the only thing you can act'lly enjoy,
Is how you feel today,

Still amazing,
Which could change in a beat,
Whether a meteor falls on your house,
Or she you trust turns out to be a cheat.

The Bombs

Bombs flying in the air,
It happens ev'ryday,
So much, we don't even hear about it,
Unless they choose to say,

Which they do for a specific reason,
Fill the news with one thing,
That way you can either do another,
Without the population noticing,

Or so they can control the perspective,
Guide the people's thinking,
Then before you know it they've done something,
'Fwhich you have no inkling,

For, say, money,
Or to spark a world war,
Though those are not mutu'lly exclusive,
What do you think the one was e'en made for?

The Day Before

Trying to get it right,
Like everybody else,
But my god, aren't we all just human,
Who can love just one self?

We all do our best to love everyone,
Because we want it, too,
Miscommunication of our desires,
Can put the wrong people in front of you,

Like, say you're a salesman dying to sell,
Just for the commission,
You don't believe in the product, s'of course,
You're dealing in fiction,

Then are found out,
For the fraud that you are,
When the reason you took the job at all,
Was the interiour of the new car.

The Step Back

Jeeze, I almost forgot,
'Mongst the self-absorption,
Flinging shit with the hope that it will stick,
Chip another portion,

Of the armor around Custer's last stand,
Bent to fare the same fate,
If the abuse has anything to say.
Its goal is to turn all hope into hate,

But its intentions are ill-directed,
There's no victory there,
It may succeed in wreaking its revenge,
But will leave itself bare,

Naked and chill,
Alone and left to rot,
My god the power of a once scarred heart,
Blind to the damage it also has fraught

The Invisible Enemy

This man had lived his life,
Like most understand it,
Got an education then worked for years,
Like soci'ty planned it,

But then something inside him begged for more,
He lived once more again,
Doing something different at sixty,
Like there're no rules about being human,

Everyone close to him told him stop,
That's not how things are done,
Not the most supportive community,
But lots of affection.

You're prob'ly like,
"I don't have those problems",
So if there're no obstacles in your life,
Why do you lack any motivation?

U.S. Senate Votes To Repeal Obama-Era Internet Privacy Rules

The internet was once free,
I will tell my children,
You could navigate it like a tourist,
Confident that your movements were hidden,

I think the government let it mature,
To see what it became,
Knowing it only took legislation,
To step in and change the rules of the game,

Then we were all caught in the tangled web,
No living without it,
Ev'ry one of our movements could be tracked,
That's when we were outed,

Our lives stolen,
Freedom, only in name,
Knowing we could be reined in any time,
If the system felt we need to be tamed.

Linchpin

This gift I give to you,
Made from what's in my heart,
As unique as the lines on my fingers,
Technology turned art,

Existing because it just won't stay in,
Hold on, that is not right,
It would not exist if it stayed inside,
If it is not shared, it is out of sight,

If it is out of sight, then so am I,
Hidden in the machine,
We are evolved only when we're conscious,
Otherwise, we're unseen,

Nay, not e'en there,
Alive, but not living,
Our purpose is to express who we are.
That can only be achieved by giving.

While You're Reading This

There's not much more to do,
Than what you've been doing,
Because what you've been doing's what you do,
'Less there's more ensuing,

In which case, when will that be coming out?
You have a date in mind?
Will the time be ripe at a certain age?
D'you know what it is and are you behind?

Maybe you shouldn't be reading this now,
You've got too much to do,
To catch up to the person you should be,
And finally be you,

But who is that?
Yes, another question,
Asked by me, while I'm sitting writing this,
P'haps my own block to self-realization.

Missing

There is a way I am,
What I show to the world,
No time for the thing that I am doing,
Still half mast. Yet unfurled.

There is the next thing on the horizon,
What this here had once been,
That since shown itself to be something else,
It was different than what I had seen,

Then there is what I hope I'll never lose,
As it just slips away,
Thank god we don't know what tomorrow brings,
I'd not get through the day!

But I'm still here,
Hope doth spring eternal,
That's what I say in the face of the guilt,
Born of the thought I've made life personal.

Cisco

There is someone out there,
Who knows everything,
Who's given the responsibility,
Of the monitoring,

Of knowing who is watching who and when,
Where that info's going,
What is being done with it and by whom,
Making sure it's their own lawns they're mowing,

Knowing who else is out there pushing in,
To steal identities,
Whoever it is will throw arms in th'air,
With great humility,

It is too late,
'Less you're e'er off the grid,
Or who you're isn't married to the cloud,
There is no control that can be undid.

Holding It In

Trying to keep it in,
Ain't all that difficult,
Your body has a natural spigot,
Controlled by shame and guilt,

Reluctant to display what is common,
Ne'er mind the stinky mess,
The looks of disdain and disparagement,
As if there's something wrong with humaness,

Because we are all, already, removed,
Due to technology,
A new world with new possibilities,
Unthink'ble formerly,

Yet, here we are,
Dealing with all this shit,
There is no valve that is yet invented,
It's our nature to make 'fore planning it.

Dangerous times

 Driving while you were writing,
 Who knew could be done?
First you would need a car,then voice to text,
 Oh,  and a concussion,

Or some other kind of head injury,
'Cause  you're on the highway,
e'en  10 years ago it couldn't be done, you,
Without your friend writing down what you say,

But I don't have any to help me now,
That well's almost run dry,
Now at 130 clicks per hour,
This bed is where I live,

The one I made,
From scratch, with my own hands,
Perhaps it will lead me to find my dreams,
Still more innovation in this new.

The Old Box

Things that were so precious,
Kept in boxes for years,
With words so earnest, forthright, and naive,
Paper crinkled from tears,

Hardly able to recall how it was,
Or was it really you?
But if it wasn't then who are you now,
And will you someday be somebody new?

So you put it all back into the box,
Burn it in the fire,
If you can't replicate who you had been,
Then you are on that pyre,

Ash on your heart,
Spread there more than one time,
You keep on changing, yet you never do,
'Cause you keep feeding yourself the same line.

The Wariers

Who is the artist, here,
Grabbing shoulders with glee,
Reflecting on all that's already done,
By contemporaries,

In a language I've always understood,
Wond'ring, is that enough?
Have they found each other through the labyrinth,
Or are they woven together by love,

Part of a fabric that need not be cut,
To make your way through it,
Rather, there is room to attach yourself,
S'hot you melt like suet?

You become one,
The more the merrier,
May all living in the world be artists,
Then may there no longer be wariers.

The Implications Of The Uncertainty Of Life

Have you ever been safe?
Among those on the street,
Eyeing you for what you have, who you are,
That might make them complete,

In malls, coffee shops, and public buildings,
Open to bombs and trucks,
Sitting down in front of your computer,
No one is watching you, with any luck,

As a child, at the mercy of your dad,
Some people have no hope,
The flutter of your heart from plaque, not love,
Tragedy you can't cope,

All of these things,
Only you know what more,
One minute you're here and the next you're gone,
Never mind not knowing what it's all for.

Moot

For real, it is no joke,
Feel like screaming out loud,
If it didn't make me look like a dick,
Given all life's allowed,

Relative safety of country and skin,
Let's not forget my sex,
Relative wealth, though like most I'm in debt,
Relatives who will support what comes next,

For now, I have got all my limbs working,
Not bad looking, to boot,
No major illnesses I'm aware of,
Just sent a tweet to Moot,

But tomorrow,
I'm afraid what it brings,
Like every other dick in the world,
Who cannot just count his fucking blessings.

Happy Where You Are

'Less you're moving forward,
You are going no place,
'Course, if you are happy with where that is,
Then turn away your face,

Why would you be reading this anyway?
'Cept, that this gives you joy!
Now my mind is blown, is it possible,
Poetry's not just for the sad and coy,

That a life well-lived can self-reflect, too,
Step out its reverie?
Or is it more that the mind can't avoid,
One's own lack of money?

And there it is,
Though some say it's needed,
I wouldn't miss that dirty currency,
That leaves all forms of freedom impeded.

Happy Belated

Oh god, the irony,
When will things go my way?
I write one of these near ev'ry morning,
But miss World Po'try day,

Don't e'en know what it was I would've wrote,
Life's been such a bollocks,
A car teetering on its two side wheels,
'Twixt a wide avenue and jagged rocks,

Towards a horizon of untold wealth,
'Bout the size of thin air,
Likely to bring me no greater comfort,
E'en if I make it there,

You're who you are,
Even if you should change,
That's only adaption to surroundings,
To cope with shit the best you can arrange.

Penning It

If you do one thing right,
In a consistent way,
Love it, care for it and make it your dreams,
For as long as you play,

Plunge yourself in it like it's all there is,
Compartmentalize,
Then, when you must leave it for other things,
There will be a diff'rent sheen to your eyes,

Everything else will appear brighter,
Isn't that all our goal?
That then leads to a transference of light,
That resides in the soul,

Then the mundane,
That which you don't care for,
Becomes the best version of what it is,
Until there's no room for fear, anymore.

Advice

There is a pattern, here,
Don't matter how it came,
It can remain a mystery of life,
As long as it's not named,

For then we are dealing with other things,
Like where did it come from,
Much different from how can it teach us,
How to determine the right direction,

Like the two tattoos on that cashier's arms,
Love the life that you live,
Then, live the life that you love on th'other,
That's good advice to give.

Don't get me wrong,
Very hard to follow,
A constant effort forever challenged,
Makes it hard not to give up and wallow.

Underground

Smell's a little different,
Musty cold, underground,
Still it is far more decent of a sight,
Than nothing at all found,

The bitterness of true frigidity,
Without no protection,
You're passed by as if you do not exist,
Actu'lly a fair determination,

It's better that this six feet underground,
Hasn't been filled with dirt,
There is so much that I have yet to do,
Death cannot even flirt,

It's stay or go,
There is no in between,
Not that things couldn't go on anyway,
Or that once gone you would miss anything.

Always

You're who you want to be,
E'en if you don't act so,
E'en if you're far from the best you can be,
With no hint that you'll go,

The leaves of the trees may fall to the ground,
You shouldn't be surprised,
No one will pick them, put them away,
Nor sweep away winter's coldness and ice,

Hate will not leave the world this next decade,
Hope good always prevails,
There are two people in everyone,
May the bad one e'er fail,

Like you and I,
Ev'ryone of our ilk,
Success does not always mean succeeding,
Tears need not always come after spilled milk.

The Haze

In the final minutes,
Before all light is gone,
The chill spreading slowly throughout your bones,
You're ready for so long,

Death is upon you, you're body is weak,
Systems not working right,
You want to lie down 'til this life passes,
But you fail to even with all your might,

Words escape you, there is nothing to say,
Except, please, please help me,
Rather you starve in your spot on your bed,
Than strive for victory,

Better you die,
Let nature take its course,
The world was not meant for the likes of you,
Your existence will fill it with remorse.

Before Midnight

I am a little late,
But, better than never,
There are not enough hours in the day,
T'avoid good things severed,

Sitting in a room, told you've been abused,
Where would you like to go?
No one is feeling AAanything better,
Because that's not the room's ultimate goal,

It's all about being what you should be,
Given what you're good at,
If you cannot find a matching career,
The system will give that,

I'm not lying,
It's already been said,
There are forces in place to keep us down,
We must make sure they are lifted, instead.

Forget It

Times you can't remember,
The most important things,
Forged in the fires of your intimate self,
All while you were sleeping,

They're embedded in the cells of your brain,
As a snapshot in time,
Though they may ne'er be in that state again,
Like the pattern of a splatter of rain,

But the impression e'er will be there,
E'en the shift of a cell,
Guiding your thoughts like water in a groove,
Or like bone by muscle,

Never the same,
Until the next dreams come,
Still, they will not erase what came before,
They can only build on their impression.

ASMRing

There is a term for it,
That tingly spine rapture,
Back-of-the-head adrenaline flushing,
It is ASMR,

There's no end to the triggers existing,
But you must let them in,
Soft, sibilant sounds shushing in your ear,
Why'd you search for more than this elation?

It's there for a reason, like your stomach,
It has just starved to death,
But what you killed can come to life again,
It will e'er have soul left,

It's what makes you,
Connects you to the source,
Let the euphoria wash away gloom,
All the good things for you will run their course.

Health Care

Don't know much about it,
I mean, I have healthcare,
The notion of being sick without help,
Is more than I could bear,

I wouldn't want to rely on my mom,
Anointing me with oil,
Praying to god to heal my little boy,
Because my country just isn't loyal

To origin of itself, at all,
That individuals,
Can become stronger by living as one,
Without erecting walls,

By supporting,
Make the weak as the strong,
The strong sharing strength for the better good,
Other systems should be considered wrong.

Surprise!

It's all about surprise,
That is what you live for,
Everything else is just getting by,
Striving for something more,

But the moment you can't believe it's true,
No matter what it is,
Time stops, magic happens, and the smile comes,
Your heart swells and becomes voluptuous,

Nothing exists that had just saddened you,
It's all a memory,
Until the surprise slowly fades away,
Back to the old story,

Of pain and hate,
Disappointment and fear,
Seeking the coming of the next surprise,
Wishing to god that you just weren't here.

s

Fleeting

A day's just a minute,
A minute's outside time,
In fifty years you'll look back on your life,
What do you think you'll find?

Will you have foreseen ev'ry obstacle,
Chosen the correct path,
Left all the people that cared about you,
Believing you did the best one could ask,

Made the world better than you first found it,
Even a smidgen's worth,
Figured out just what it was all about,
Other than death and birth?

Or anything?
Hello, what's it all for?
Don't spend too much time figuring it out,
Or there won't be any left to do more.

Toe Dreams

My big toes are like Fred's,
Like Flintsone from Bedrock,
They give my steps confidence and balance,
Performing in a sock,

I could stare at their perfect form for hours,
In fact, I've done just that,
God, if I was only more flexible,
I'd perform the most inappropr'ate act,

But alas, so close yet so far away,
Like all things one desires,
Like if I were to have my way with them,
They'd never quench my fire,

Best they stay there,
As cravings, nothing more,
We all need that thing that's just out of reach,
To appreciate all that's just next door.

Hair Up

Don't matter when you're glad,
The sun is always out,
Deep down in a cave, damp, filled with shit smells,
Living on sauerkraut,

No friends to tell you're in the right place,
That luck's around the bend,
You don't need it when joy is your fallback,
Circumstances mean nothing in the end,

Light can still fill you and pour out your soul,
I'm feeling it right now,
The right place can be anywhere you are,
If you are so endowed,

And you can be,
It's naught to do with how,
You're alive, which is more than most can say,
They're still mired in what they think the earth vowed.

Tearing Away

Sometimes you can be sad,
A haze hugging your form,
Painting your world like a distant landscape,
Viewed from a raging storm,

No point reaching through until the smoke's cleared,
It's not you, anyway,
Best to crouch down, hug your head, shut your eyes,
Hope tomorrow brings you a better day,

That there is warmth to burn away the mist,
Like a damn miracle,
Light shining on an horizon of hope,
Wish for an oracle,

E'en a fairy,
Only magic will save,
But when it does, my god, what a feeling,
Walking towards the sun from Plato's cave.

Very Superstitious

I just looked at the clock,
The time's one, one, one, one,
Mom e'er said matching numbers are good luck,
A small superstition,

But one that has stuck with me all these years,
Not that I believe it,
It's not that I don't believe it, either,
It's just that since she's died, I can't leave it,

It reminds me of her when I see it,
And that makes me happy,
If that joy leads me to do something good,
Then that's good luck for me,

It's like roses,
When you stop to smell them,
If a little thing helps you find yourself,
You should let it, 'cause that happens seldom.

Gotta Go

I really have to pee,
He thought as he stood there,
Nothing keeping him from going away,
Except he wouldn't dare,

The stakes are too high to succumb to that,
That which he can control,
It may damage his bladder ever more,
But worse, a seven might be his next roll,

Really, what damage could he succumb to,
That money wouldn't fix?
As he tries not to shake his fist too hard,
Lest he unplug his dick,

But even then,
What's a small accident?
People will forgive the most heinous acts,
If there's possibly some money in it.

RIP Winston

When I first met Winston,
Wow, eighteen years ago,
At the film festival, me a driver,
Just new to Toronto,

I'd pop into the office on Carlton,
Stop by to say hello,
He'd stand from his desk of fifty folders,
Then we'd go to the garage for a smoke,

We would talk steady in that ten minutes,
Life, dreams and anecdotes,
The cigarette was only a pretense,
The head rush hit my soul,

I never quit,
Even if months had flown,
We would meet for a beer at some Firkin,
Getting high on the discussion, alone.

The Light Outside

There're moving lights all 'round,
Life happening outdoors,
More change in the short time we've been on earth,
Than millennia 'fore,

A reflection of nature at its worst?
That's really hard to say,
What is nature? What is bad? Who's to judge?
Would it have acted any other way?

Would it have had more respect for itself?
Like leave its trees alone,
Not kill anything or eradicate,
An entire nation's home?

What about you?
Tell me which you reflect?
The hubris, envy and lust of humans,
Or the indifference of our architect?

To The Depths

The road's sucked up the rain,
Even though it's asphalt,
Commuters look at me emotionless,
As if it was my fault.

The water's seeking the easiest route,
Just like the rest of us,
Drawn natur'lly to the core of the earth,
Our desire to reach great heights spurious,

We're only seeking release from this earth,
T'arrive at a new low,
The rain has tried that a million times,
To be sucked back below,

What's wrong with that,
To return to one's core?
It's the simplest form of all that there is,
Yet, each and ev'ry one of us wants more.

Another Brick in the Wall

"You've become too dirty,"
I admonished the brick,
It said nothing as it sat midst his friends,
Who flipped birds and held dicks,

He curled up his lips and raised his eyebrows,
Apologetic'lly,
I was in a rush and had to settle,
For staring back at it menacingly,

But from then on, everywhere I looked,
Walls would stand in my way,
Oh the jeers and their immobility,
No matter what I'd say,

Like I'm sorry,
Who am I to be judge?
Until now I was living un observed,
But I just had to point out that brick's smudge.

Time Is Money

It's all about money,
It is everything,
If we didn't need it or had enough,
We would all start living,

We would get up with the sun in our head,
That shines on our desires,
People would come to our lives and they'd go,
Not tied by the system of fiscal wires,

Betrayal would be so much, much simpler,
Hearts unsullied by debt,
We would all be able to see clearly,
We haven't found love, yet,

Then we'd move on,
Loneliness would be fine,
For we'd do the things that we wanted to,
Because it's money that made itself time.

Oh, O.J.

He really had it made,
Charisma out the butt,
A natural athlete across the board,
Good looking and well-cut,

He constantly said he was just O.J.,
He was not black or white,
The movements, the riots, he snubbed them all,
Yet his success was a boost for black rights.

Then his wife and a waiter were slaughtered,
The blood led straight to he,
He then said he was framed for being black,
Then was freed for Rodney.

But he forgot,
Many thought him guilty,
He lost sight midst a new crowd of yes men,
Got thirty years for a crime of conceit.

The White House's Fascist Face

How else can one explain,
Another White House move
Presented as guiltless, but following,
Trump's rumbling of fake news,

The exclusion of certain agencies,
From Spicer's press gaggle,
Which changed from what was to be a briefing,
But as an autocrat's finger-waggle?

Even Fox News joined in the obloquy,
This must be serious,
To achieve complete power, you must repress,
The freedom of the press.

This is no joke,
E'en I'm afraid to write,
This Wath of Investigative Po'try.
What an innocuous act to wrest fright!

That Noise

Can't get that fucking buzzing,
Out of the sound's background,
Sometimes I wonder if its main target,
Is to dirty my sound,

So no one can focus on the message,
There's something just not right,
How can such a meaningless distraction,
Mean the barrier to any real height?

Unless there's a process to work with it,
Herald it, brandish it,
Surrender the message and I might find,
The true message in it.

What could it be?
For me to stay in place?
The next time I see that little buzzer,
I will stand up and ask it to its face.

The Smile Commute

Sitting on the subway,
Seeing all the faces,
Ev'ryone of them completely neutral,
Staring out into spaces,

It's hard to believe one of them smiling,
They think the same of me,
These morning automaton commuters,
Will be turned on at th'end of their journey,

Seems to me it might take less energy,
Once offset by the joy,
To smile and let others' happiness,
Be remotely employed,

That is, sucked up,
Processed and recycled,
What kind of world would then nat'r'ly arise?
If you can't imagine, I bet I could.

My god

Is there really much left?
Should you stay much longer?
Would it make a diff'rence if I promised,
You don't have to wrong her,

That the steps to where you want to end up,
Could take another route,
Longer, harder, with less time at the end,
Less soil and blood and sweat left on your boot,

Less cold, less tears, far lesser solitude,
In which to do your work,
No uncertainty or dangerousness,
No deep laid thoughts to jerk?

Nothing at all,
Or maybe, ev'rything.
My god, in your own sad, darkest moments,
Do you have power over your thinking?

Stand By

If you have woken up,
By sunlight or alarm,
Not quite aware of where you are as yet,
Afraid to not be warm,

Reminding yourself of the place you're in,
Admonishing again,
A daily ritual of self-control,
To protect the position you are in,

It's not your dream, but it's not your nightmare,
Why risk one for th'other?
It takes a special person to chase dreams,
Most of us don't bother,

And are alright,
Like all beasts of the Earth,
We are not special, homo sapiens,
Let those who believe they are do their worst.

Trollump

Trump is now president,
Many are asking how,
Poor, white, disenfranchised voted for him,
Because they need change, now.

But there are not enough to tip the scales,
E'en with th'usual right,
Or the elderly or police state fans,
Or the supremely white,

As Dale Beran writes, there's another group,
Holed up in mom's basement,
Whose first rule is to be anonymous,
Then make trolly comments,

Talking 4chan,
Who may have put Trump in,
As a joke played on the United States,
The pastime of hacking Americans.

The Break

You do not need a break,
You only need you to,
Do things the way you do naturally,
So no one can refute,

That you are what you've been eternally,
That is what people want,
The surety of knowing anything,
Is e'en if they wanted to change they can't,

That translates to the most elusive trait,
Which is changing a lot,
The comfort that where action's coming from,
Is naught to do with thought,

But, instead, life,
You see, that's why we're here,
Thrust into this unknown reality,
As if purpose is obviously clear.

My Keys

The keys used to be there,
That bowl on the counter,
It was the first place I thought would be best,
No rest for the hunter,

There were so many thoughts that haunted me,
About needing the dish,
The room it took on the food area,
Like cross-contamination from the fish,

I moved them to a plastic container,
On my writing desk, now,
But with the loss of the daily routine,
My mind is in a row,

Things have since changed,
They are not always there,
I sometimes leave them in my coat pocket,
Change rules once and they disappear in th'air.

Intro

First there's the explosion,
Aft' the music builds up,
The destruction of one's very own name,
How's that for a wassup?

An existence outside of reality,
Is there e'en such a thing?
If there ain't, then there's a whole bunch of time,
That is being murdered by the living,

Just to play and share learning with others,
Is that really so bad,
To leave this world of deceit and hatred,
According to your dad?

Did he say that?
No, I don't think he did,
Of course, it was hard to understand him,
Through his sobs for the dearly departed.

Tear

You can't outgrow yourself,
You are just what you are,
I wouldn't waste your time running away,
You just won't get that far,

In case you're wondering, nothing has changed,
You don't live long enough,
Sure, there's no time within eternity,
But it takes time to collect all that stuff,

Which exists 'bout as long as you would think,
As long as a real thought,
That swirls around like it was meant to be,
Then find out it was not,

It was like time,
So heartbreakingly long,
Sometimes you think you can take anything,
Until life's cruelty just proves you wrong.

The Ring

A ring hugs the skin tight,
No give in the metal,
The flesh bulges up around its edges,
In time it will settle,

The fingers on either side avoid it,
However subtly,
It is a force foreign to their purpose,
A reminder of what they're meant to be,

Blood once struggled to push past its pressure,
Until it found a way,
What nature hath made, let humans obstruct,
It will push back, one day,

With force majeure,
The ring to our fingers,
That prod things they don't know just, well, because,
The impressions of which ever linger.

Where The Poor Fight

In the Spanish mountains,
The Leftists hid in caves,
Many had seen their families slaughtered,
Midst the Nationalist wave,

There were not many and few were soldiers,
Many were not Spanish,
Coming from Europe and America,
Drawn into the war to fight Fascists,

What they found on both sides were, of course, poor,
They are e'er those who die,
Prodded by those with power wanting more,
Directing from on high,

Then there is us,
Observing from afar,
Not Spain, the fighting no longer rages,
One need not look hard to find other wars.

Wash Away

Let it all wash away,
Oh god, like summer rain,
Sucked in the earth or evaporated,
Just don't return again,

Take with you all the bad, awful mistakes,
That weigh me down like bricks,
Better a box with no holes for a home,
Than one more feeling of shit I can't fix,

Strip me of clothing, if it means no shame,
May as well take the skin,
Let the blood flow away and crush the bones,
So I can re-begin,

Not say a word,
Assemble my body,
Truly know how it works ere using it,
So poor driving don't make it seem shoddy.

Water Falls

The book was chewed apart,
Like Humpty on the floor,
With time, the words could be pieced together,
Sure, but whatever for?

They stopped existing once pen left paper,
Moments spilled, then gone,
At best, just put the dog in the garage,
Hopefully, it will have learned its lesson,

As will you, never will thoughts lay about,
Or not photocopied,
While you are distracted by life's pleasures.
'Who'll be dog-jacked? Not we!'

At least, not me,
Life is much too precious,
The bull's horns are not that far from your heart,
Never will that happen again, she says.

The Ending

You can lose everything,
That's done by losing you,
It can happen driving your Ferrari,
Painted that flat black hue,

Bought to dally along the seaside road,
Off the Amalfi Coast,
To the villa that you keep for yourself,
Though it's not the one that you adore most,

When you look to your right past your blonde guest,
In the passenger seat,
'Who is this person steering with my hands?
And will we ever meet?'

Just one turn right,
Drive off the ocean cliff,
To prove the real you cannot drive at all,
Nor care you how opulently you live.