Here’s a selection of my poetry. All rights reserved concerning creation and inherent rights of interpretation and benefit from said creation.
A Penny For Your Pair Of Dimes?
A penny for your pair of dimes? I heard the young man say,
And mulling on his offer, I heard the words at play
For a penny, thoughts are purchased, thus so for many years,
and paradigms are but our thoughts, our dreams, beliefs and fears.
So the offer now is shown to you, for you to contemplate
are your paradigms made of concrete, can you negotiate?
Or will you question everything, to see if there is more?
Or will you choose face value, the illusionary door?
Can I challenge you to think, escape, to chance to be the best?
or must you settle, sink, conform, to be like all the rest?
Must you have a pedigree to taste success’s fruit?
Accreditation yields conformance, why not avoid that suit?
Living life today as if it were your own,
belonging to none other, your kingdom and your throne.
Today’s the day, it’s here and now, will you choose free or slave?
Try it once outside the box, you’ll find it’s all the rage…
I am different, unafraid.
It’s damn unreal the mess I’ve made,
all because I cannot sate
the deep desire to deviate
From plan and purpose, fact and law;
I’ve seen these things by waysides fall;
embarrassed those who masquerade,
simply because I’m unafraid.
I’ve seen the gasps and rabid foaming
of those who see I’m nonconforming;
and when I ask why I’m required
to be the same – they lose desire –
For they cannot, in fact explain
why I’m required to be the same;
and so when asked they soon decide
that I am free to step aside.
For absolute is mere illusion,
the law requires a mere confusion
so that your conquest can be made
if you are one of those – afraid.
And no one that I’ve ever met
has truly mastered fear as yet;
but fear’s grip loosens with each day
that freedom prods us on the way
To see the truth behind the lies,
and see the substance of the prize;
To hope we’ve some small difference made
For, deep inside, we’re unafraid.
And so to those of tyranny
who make dissenters enemy
I raise my head and here am counted
I here disclose “I won’t be mounted.”
And although fear may creep back in
I will not stop or let you win.
The choice of freedom has been made
and I still stand here, unafraid.
Pray, I pray that one may say
Today is but a single day
And while the masses may yet drone
I’ll be unique, if all alone…
Religion, like government, offers intangible products, such as “security” and “peace” and “safety.” And although it’s subscribers never touch, smell, see, hear, or taste the security, peace, or safety, they “feel” it.
And likewise, many of those same delusional individuals “feel” (deep down) that you should be silenced, or even put to death, if you disagree with their “feelings,” which are more commonly referred to as “beliefs.”
Despair, And A Prayer.
It never has materialized, the much longed for content
instead I remain wondering what this life has meant
searching to exhaustion for that thing that’s seeking me
and still it seems I have no power to change reality.
Every day it seems there surely must be more
my vessel still is wave-tossed, and far away from shore
my navigation lost my anchors cut away
I drift at sea alone, so lost upon my way.
Is there hope for change? Will life ameliorate?
Or is this damned frustration ever binding as my fate?
Can a cycle, this momentum ever be diverted?
Or will it end someday with all my dreams averted?
Why must I have knowledge and not possess the power;
to make the change I want to see, to touch this very hour?
The deep recesses of the mind scream: “It’s only getting worse;”
And those who count on me to change – am I, or are they cursed?
This hopeless faith, and this realized fear – which is lie or truth?
without the keys to find the answer, I trade old age for youth.
A scourge upon myself – a mar upon my loves of life
I seek mercy from the universe, please free me from this strife.
Today I faced my death once more,
‘midst all my aches and pains;
The inspiration to keep faith has now begun to wane.
I’d rather go than stay in hell, no matter who’s beside.
And even though I love them so, my pain ends when I’ve died.
The guilt and shame of leaving though,
is something that insists
I stay a little longer, absorbing violence.
The violence of failure, frustration and remorse,
Are but compounded daily upon my living corpse.
Oh, where’s that true redemption, without religious fare?
Where’s the right that clears the wrongs,
that heals the deep despair?
I need to see it soon now, my grip is losing strength
How does one live a life, if absent an intent?
We’ve tasted life with such deep passion,
not just eating curds and whey,
on the edge and with abandon, drinking of the cabernet,
being different and surviving all attempts to make us sway;
life with you, my dear is paramount, the meaning of gourmet.
Though there have been bitter courses,
dishes savored and refused
there could be no sweeter garnish, than a table set for two.
With your constancy comes the savor of life’s complex appetite
Past the fear and doubt you’ve held me with a fascinating light.
A piano bar, the jazz is playing with a vintage vino fare;
We have left behind the normal and have ranked among aware.
As I touch your neck and kiss you, and I feel you melt away,
let me once again consume you, for you are indeed gourmet.
Represent: the magic word of lawyers for their prey;
For they would never show you just what the word conveys.
“Re” means to do over what once was done before,
and “present” means to portray or offer something for.
The smoke and mirrors meant to fool do just exactly that,
while deep inside the chambers, there’s laughing, chummy chat;
And you, the victim and the prey, think you have just been saved,
but you are in the balance, found wanting when you’re weighed.
See, “represent” means but to play a character, a show;
And lawyers never tell you just how it’s going to go;
The script, there’s none, and yet the lawyers win still if you lose;
So let them represent you, if that’s what you would choose.
Or catch them at their game, and ask them to “present”
the clear and static meaning of what each word has meant.
They’ll stutter, and they’ll distract, they’ll beat upon the desk
But if you watch them closely, you’ll see their game’s a mess.
For lawyers represent, up until the final hour,
when it is you that must stand in for giving up your power;
The lawyer then withdraws from representing you;
And you are left there, sentenced, to pay their quoted due.
For they have hoodwinked fully with just some abstruse words
that you, their victim never asked what meaning they may serve
so you are what’s for dinner, and “justice” there is none
for when you’re “represented,” your life, indeed, is done.
Wearing collared doctrines they all appear the same,
From Jesus to Mohammed, their incitations drain
the blood of those who differ, the lives who would refrain
from joining in their prison, while wearing gilded chains.
The god of peace and love is also god of war
and if you are confused, they’ll slice your throat before
allowing any questions or logical discourse
for you, the unbeliever is what religion’s for.
Your undeserving soul is but a filthy wretch,
and if you doubt your need of god, his grace will slit your neck;
Or send you to eternal flames, to scream and writhe in check –
all because you don’t believe religion’s bloody beck.
They’ll lure you with your need of god, the one in afterworld
But deep inside they are the god and you the virgin girl
they’ll drill your ass until it bleeds, and leave your mind awhirl;
unless you pledge your very life; their crusade flags unfurl.
It’s been the same for centuries, the message very clear,
You can be saved hereafter, and even while you’re here.
But should you dare the thought that life is great outside their sphere,
perhaps you need a lesson from the god of love, er, fear…
The Absurdity of Profanity
“Holy fuck,” these words have power, a power assigned by you,
You’ve chosen long before ways you’re offended through.
For some it’s just a glance, and others require force,
But “holy fuck” is two mere words, without a sword, of course.
No gun held to your head, no deadly force a threat
It’s just your ego and your pride that still offends you yet.
no hammer, nail, or cross bears you on crucifix
but “holy fuck” destroys your peace, your programmed dialect.
And, oh, “Goddamn” profanes the name of which specific god?
perhaps the one who prohibits to take his name in vain?
and yet, when asked, few christian men can recognize the Yod
the Vav, or even Heh, of the god they serve; proclaim.
It’s mere imagination, a construct of the mind
religion works the mages choice of words without define.
and yet you follow blindly, the servant of a man
and claim offense if one would dare utter the term: Goddamn.
And if your god were strong, and serious with rule
my lips would become lifeless before this poem is through
and yet I still remain, and that must be of luck
while you are still offended when I say “holy fuck.”
Are judges Competent?
The judge arrives in long black robe his gavel at his side
commanding reverenced honor from all who will abide –
with threat of arms and claimed contempt courageous men recoil –
while your honor, for the state, the mindless sheep do spoil.
And yet a few placed questions will bring upon the rule
complete and utter anger for shaming judge as fool
just ask him to give meaning to the word he speaks: contempt
and specify completely, dear judge, exactly is meant –
leave nothing out, so I may know what angers you the most
is it asking questions, or the quelling of your boast?
The boast that you are ruler, and I am but a peasant
a peasant with a question, the answer is not present.
for you cannot give meaning to the threatened word: contempt
It would expose that you indeed are less than competent
and if your mood behests it, the bars of jail will cure
the word without a meaning, except your whims, unpure.
And so I lift a finger to your required respect
until you can explain in full your chosen dialect
requiring me to cow in fear to dog and pony shows
I retain the right of god, the action of the chose.
Voting for anyone to rule/govern you is akin to breastfeeding while demanding chocolate milk.
From their gallows let them hang
The tyrants of oppression the megalomaniacs,
reversing all the standards, with everyone suspect
bend over, spread you cheeks if you would pass this way
we’re from the government, security, per se.
We’ll desecrate your body, if dare you raise your fist
you lie in pools of blood while we will yet persist
because our game is violent, dare, if you would, resist
‘cause short’s the time of memory, and you’ll be little missed.
and yet, society is feeling deep despair
for trust has long been breached by these who claim the right of heirs
to absolute control, the power paradigm,
while there inside your soul, is power so divine –
the power of choice to live or die as free, or as a slave
the choice is equal with divine: unshackled, or afraid?
Take one small step and you will see the predator will pray
that you and your new knowledge from facade will keep away
for they are mere illusionists, although with deadly force
to coerce your knee upon the ground in abeyant state of course
but when their slaves have had enough of bowing to a feint
then tyrants, by their sword will die, and on their gallows hang.
Authority – foreboding word, you’re powerless, and weak
and when authority appears you must be humbly meek
for those who claim authority must wield with it the sword
or else those whom authority rules will soon be their own lord.
Society couldn’t bear a world where each can all be free,
for sure enough, you need someone, as I do, to lead me
to tell me right from wrong and how much I should pay
to make sure I’m without molestation on my way;
For we all must have protection from our imagined foe
so authority must protect us from the painful, evil woes
but authority has become the evil woe we hate
and so now with a sober mind let us here denigrate
The authority which purports to secure us from our graves,
instead now has become the master of us slaves
and so while there is breath, and energy within,
I here proclaim that I am my authority, dear friend
And if you hate it, put your unsheathed knife upon my neck,
but know that I will not bow to your admiralty wrecked
for you have shown your treason, your will is evident
and your authority is, in my life, now coming to an end.
With any construct that is hierarchical, there will be inconsistencies and contradictions among the hierarchy. Using the inconsistencies and contradictions to your advantage is wise, and yet, ignoring them (to your demise) is status quo…