the remnants of a broken down villain
he's waited here in thick silence
with his elaborate plans
drawn on the wall complete with corrections
stick figures in the halflight
crude illustrations of the vocally frustrated
small errors in life represented by
five burnished monkeys cast in bronze
lined up in order of smiles on his mirror wall
the surface of his words
are reflections of the rain
which never comes but stays
in the golden gilded cages of his mind
shes so sweet rides up on her mystery wheel
and starts to strip off the layers
but stops when she reaches her freshly washed skin
and she dose a little dance just for him
shes been trying to get him off this
diesel gas fumes kick he's been on since vietnam
and the burnished brass monkeys break into song
something slow with a nice backbeat
something about the middle east
and the wires that join us all in prosperity
she sells sex in plain brown paper bags
on the street to support the tragic train
they say shes weak but we all know its just makeup
she wears and shes the strongest man alive
she isn't drawing grand designs to conquer the world
but its something shes well on her way to doing anyway
with her backup band
five burnished brass monkeys
each one with a hand on a bible
swearing allegiance to the madness
found in stick figures carved with loving care into
the walls of a madman's eight inch mind
The wise head becomes a fool sans money,
While the goon with quids around to throw
Assumes a sage--the mayor of phony county.
Why should the prince of letters anyhow
Be in want--lacking in substance great,
Flourishing instead in some wretched state?
Yet the politicians who run down the economy
And men of baser thoughts that make heaven's
Hallowed eyes drop tears by their steamy
Smut businesses and those of unholy deals,
Do seem to prosper much in this awkward
World,with those that vaunt at the
Philanthropic devotion of your tears
To my self-asserted sense of importance
To the wake of a vessel leaving port forever
And the mighty sun sets where I saw you last
On the horizon, without looking back
But I stand in desert sands
It is all a mirage yet I remain alone
And so even my imagination holds truth
Time and time again I find myself alone
Whilst you are surrounded by love and prosperity
But is it true that I have lost you to the changing tides
To the trade wind's mighty gust?
Have you set sail and left me here to perish
Alone and breaching insanity?
Am I merely imagining falsehood in reality?
While flat on the ground
Dancing on air
Trying not to drown
Life seems more clear
Without them around
my life has been a big joke
never taken seriously
nor seriously taken
mostly just laughable, memorable
scenes you would place in an indie movie
imagine the most contrived and self absorbed
that always ends in happily ever after
now in place the high school version of me
and play it on repeat
welcome to my life
as simple plan would say
on my average every day
you could count the amount of times
i think of nothing but myself
only if each was a dot that freckled my skin
only if each was a non perishable in a food donation bin
but in the latter case you wouldn't have enough
and when I realized that
the daunting reality of human depravity
is when God became so much more real
when he slapped me across the face
and blood dripped from my nose
not from the brunt of the blow
but from the hand of the innocent
not just the one who was sent
but the ones who cannot be sent
cannot be moved
and cannot escape
in someone elses sick idea of prosperity
someone's sick idea of "making it"
the only thing we're "making it"
is someone else's hell
and when God slapped me across the face
he said to me
"LOOK AT MY CHILDREN, MY CHILD!
LOOK AT MY CHILDREN
BEING STACKED AND PILED
LOOK AT MY CHILDREN BEING REJECTED
I hear their cries
i hear them breaking
their hearts being crushed under the pressure
i see their homes being taken away
i know the depths of darkness they experience
each and every. day.
my children they are suffering
my children they are lost
sprawled out on the floor
being made into each others tool of satisfaction
and that's only a fraction
run to them
not away from yourself
that's when I started taking God seriously
the day I realized that this world is too screwed up to be able to even cope
now my life isn't a joke
because my life may be someone else's hope.
Fashion this as liquor to give spirit to a song in write.
Seen seldom to weigh words at play in search,
sewn expensive for time spent in trust and recite.
Penciling not for profit so rhythmic this may show.
Find in the presence to open and reflect our woes.
Only prescription for uncommon those in write.
A same those who compose.
This on display is the compromise of sheltered dreams ~
and the soul, of rhythm in gentle prose.
This is the allure of the jewel of life.
Sent as promise a same a wish.
Stem those genes and make heavy this vision ~
and prayers in might. These are our rays made ink,
to weigh the pressures of waves constant in cycle,
to detract from nature’s Heavenly sight.
Lost we shall dream and ever so patiently grow old ~
but in heart live bold.
Rugs were in Persia mathematically correct ~
and with an Indian craft colorful, Heaven sent.
Only captured in a metaphor this day,
so men do master, so simple this way.
Simple this as to measure the years past,
shudder away tears, for the river purifies ~
our passions commandeered.
So culture our gardens to prosper and replenish,
in the green untamed, and natural in wonder, behold.
Today we thimble a sew for tomorrow,
for our craft is spared only to simpleness of editing,
not journeyed journals to an ever-changing composition.
Perhaps unfamiliar this vest, this life.
Sample the living, in books that inspire.
Dismal I think the desire to purify a pen in this heavy practice,
a dance an art. Time lends a flavor, marinating appealing to a fashion so write.
Always calm to prolonged righteous reason,
modern making, yet captured still as storytelling.
Uncommon to cues, but refreshing at leisure,
is now a computer who makes simple what once was wasted time.
Measures made in this art are laborious,
the passion is for the pen, reel it in as your tool,
rations will in turn ~ give as a well to nature and sow,
the seed of the write.
Refinement ~ un-forsaken, notes of detail,
must reinvent and inscribe in ink.
The bank of intuition lay tender as our diction.
Replenish in the soil of our Native grounds ~
to seed another tool, the luxury of our lingo.
For inspirations may befriend or become uncharted ~
if left in the cold. Sold but without a surrender to all integrity,
we will call for many souls to ship and receive what Forefathers intended.
In over our heads, over watering our behaviors, half unknowingly over diluting our mental treasures, is this the liquor of life,
all too fancy in measure but it was the tea of rebellion ~
and so I toast ~ to a drink tonight.
Inherent as memories of a generation now surely within time,
we will fill the promise within crafted lines, and file away ~
many promises ~ many revisions many times.
In spoil we shall not surrender our bounty of honesty and wisdom,
so gray in years we mend.
Dent our self-serving self ~ respect,
make and justify the wheel in role common.
Like a beard in keep, intention is relevant.
Surely women refine makeup as to show beauty in character.
Thus what we intend to refine is an endeavor to unwrinkled ~
and celebrate the qualities of growing old.
Time is of new defining, for the times are naturally at all times ~
in ritual of change.
Memories to grace the gift of sight ~
are the shades to carry our reflections away.
One, who trusts and so cares, lay in the daydream of light.
In a wish sent salient, reference to eyes unveiled,
patiently as a seed shall ripen, the flavors of life ~
will flower in springs day.
We hanger thus shelter, the rags made clothes,
best when leather to weather firm and tight.
Regift the promise, to harness the wind ~
and make words potent as those before did without regret.
Today in general we lean and conform on the fundamentals,
too disciplined, mirror of stale literature.
Similar to wood varnished but without the stains of life.
First revision is not for giving, only what is taken, luxury of time.
Color your copies of the wood you talk in and pencil in your pressures ~
to relieve the pain, simple ~ ness and cold feet lay sold,
as buttered bread to fill.
But imperfect, so forthcoming, wills the literature of today ~
finding promise in ceremony by charting drafts and revisions ~
to send in message to those young in read.
This voyage is regretfully gentle as our host made monumental any verse,
so breathe within the soul and hearts of men, to find new styles to milk the mind of reason.
Leafs from the tree of intuition ~ censure the picture,
sell in the filter of Freedoms fight, not first drafts ready when write.
Battered but purely by pace and meager beginnings,
the wave of procurement in the arts of linguistics will saddle ~
and shelter the idea profound.
Don’t toss away the raisin of a pen in hand,
for we lean to easily in bits and bytes.
Promise of Heaven’s pennies falling in rhythm will sing tonight.
Majestic in find, common in ground, gift a find, in leisure, in time.
Gather they guard and uphold the greater good, not to entertain but inspire.
Just as ones soul is when right.
Humbled in behaviors so chips in clever may fall.
But poker face we have become,
once centered in earnest of essays in rent,
now owners of ideas embellished ~ in verse ~
our native treasures.
Second, we charter the raft of ideas in mend,
to conceive works so aspiring as the poets and linguists of historic claim.
So riddled ~ so mastered.
Surely a new discontent shall offer, in a pebble of examples met,
and with practice and structure our youth will pen.
Demand must be patient, for procurement in the arts of linguistics ~
will nurture and mother our future Leaders to a discipline in their own right.
Never forget the days of past generations for they marveled in the arts ~
and in rain it falls in our hands ~ to luster and defend.
Poetics are too political if not in share.
Protection of this is how Freedom was rung.
The hungry will maintain its resolve and rightfully so.
Riddled as sow ~ these lentils, this meal, these feathers,
this ink shall fuel the fire.
A dance in the pillows of night shall brush ~
the painting in the Autumn of ones days.
Flaccid in so many ways.
Glorified by the shadows of protection,
but only one day is stored for this intention.
Freedom is in the work engraved beside it, within it,
sharing we celebrate it, and our Brave provide it.
Celebration comes by way of duty and hard work,
and is rises high and early in the dawn.
Yes, on the Fourth Day of July.
Food and pleasures are gifts for price paid by our Soldiers ~
and Agencies who protect and defend our freedom and intelligence,
and calmly watch over it as we carry along.
All under the calm watch of Gods umbrella.
Future dreams are blessed a same, for all under this Flag ~
by notion alone, seam and dress and hence sail with solemn truth.
Trusting the winds of reason to keep us Forever Free ~
and on course to replenish the soil, for those young in years.
Students in the day dream of life are in the send ~
to allow their pen to charter this peaceful but daunting Nation ~
to one of peace and prosperity.
Willingly and calm the Lion stares afar from American shores,
Democratic in nature and always reinventing in this idea we call ~
the American Dream.
Let free your internal conflicts
That the maze of misdirection
Direct you, miss, to amaze us
Silence your doubts, but only for a moment
For a differing of opinions
Will lead you further than the casual assent
So when life sweeps you off your feet
Hold the edge of your seat tightly
Because this plane is on a non-stop flight
To the plains of success
Where prosperity prospers
And despair falters
To know it is beaten
Audemus jura nostra defendere. 
We haven't served niggers at Dennys since 1953.
North to the Future.
We got highest rape and STD-rate in the nation.
Ditat Deus. 
We're the rudest, worst drivers in America; let's blame it on the Mexicans.
Regnat populus. 
Highest meth users in the nation and the highest viewers of Breaking Bad.
More assholes and more anal sex than anywhere in the nation.
Nil sine Numine. 
Thank God for South Park, my bong and crack cocaine.
Qui transtulit sustinet. 
Thank the Lord five acre zoning still keeps the niggers out.
Liberty and independence.
Incorporate here, save money, avoid taxes.
In God we trust.
All others pay cash.
Wisdom, justice, and moderation.
If the heat don't kill you the stupidity will.
Ua Mau Ke Ea O Ka Aina I Ka Pono. 
Spend your cash here then get your haole ass off our island, bitch.
Esto perpetua 
Home of the russet potato and white supremecist militias.
State sovereignty, national union.
Life begins and ends with corruption.
The Crossroads of America.
It doesn't get more boring than this, don't stop, keep driving.
Our liberties we prize and our rights we will maintain.
Buckeyes, buckwheat and buck stupid.
Ad astra per aspera. 
Flat land and flatline intelligence.
United we stand, divided we fall.
Where schools teach Creationism, not that phony-baloney evolution.
Union, justice, and confidence.
Where all fat, Cajun, illiterate motherfuckers can bring their guns to church.
You won't find no niggers or gays here, eh.
Fatti maschii, parole femine. 
Walk softly and carry a big dick to DC.
Ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem. 
We got Harvard, bitches, nyeh nyeh nyeh nyeh nyehhh nyeh!
Si quaeris peninsulam amoenam circumspice. 
Endless lakes and endless unemployment lines.
L'Étoile du Nord. 
The Mall/Maul of America.
Virtute et armis. 
Second highest STD-rate in the nation, but still first in lynchings!
Salus populi suprema lex esto 
If our chiggers don't getcha', Rush Limbaugh will.
Oro y plata. 
Where men are racists and sheep are nevous.
Equality before the law.
Where Monsanto/GMO corn is above the law.
All for Our Country.
Building our children's future through gambling and prostitution.
Live free or die.
Our state is a shithole but our motto looks great on a Harley T-shirt.
Liberty and prosperity.
Highest property taxes in the nation and we still smell like sewage.
Crescit eundo. 
If it weren't for government jobs, esse, we'd all be unemployed.
Eh, you got a problem with that?
Esse quam videri. 
Home of the speed freaks and Poop Monster.
Liberty and union, now and forever: one and inseparable.
If you take away our Sturgis Rally we're just another shithole like South Dakota.
With God all things are possible.
The nation's highest number of library visits because there's nothing else to do here.
Labor omnia vincit. 
Where the Govenor's Mansion this week is at the corner of Trailer Park and Tornado Alley.
Alis volat Propriis. 
Where everbody looks like Skinny Pete or Badger, but without using an umbrella in the rain.
Virtue, liberty, and independence.
Where the rich get richer, the poor get poorer.
Not much here but at least we have Family Guy.
Animis opibusque parati. 
Where the Civil War never ended.
Under God the people rule.
Where you'll never find Thai food, 3 wise men or a virgin
Agriculture and Commerce.
Where the KKK was born and the most popular pick up line is, 'Nice tooth!'
Execution capital of the nation; Hook'em Horns!
Marry your girlfriend, her sister and her mom.
Freedom and Unity.
Ben & Jerry's forever.
Sic semper tyrannis. 
Law, order and an endless bounty of Gestapo-police.
America's most rainy, PC and annoying state.
Montani semper liberi. 
Lowest test scores in the 'na-shun'.
Leading the nation in drunk driving and Cheesehead hats.
Nothing to do here but get hammered, smoke weed and shoot elk (in that order).
 God enriches
 The people rule
 I have found it!
 Nothing without Providence
 He who transplanted still sustains
 The life of the land is perpetuated in righteousness
 It is forever
 To the stars through difficulties
 I lead
 Manly deeds, womanly words
 By the sword we seek peace, but peace only under liberty
 If you seek a pleasant peninsula, look around you
 The North Star
 By valor and arms
 The welfare of the people shall be the supreme law
 Gold and silver
 It grows as it goes
 Ever upward
 To be rather than to seem
 Labor conquers all things
 She flies with her own wings
 Prepared in mind and resources
 Thus always to tyrants
 Indian word meaning “by and by”
 Mountaineers are always free
See all my Haiku collections:
Classic Haikus [C]
...and my State collections:
Overheard Snippets from our 50 States: Quoted in Haiku
Smartass Haikus for All 50 State Mottos
and my TripAdvisor collections:
Trip Advisor: Travel America with Haiku [Texas]
Trip Advisor: Travel the World with Haiku [A]
Trip Advisor: Travel the World with Haiku [B]
Trip Advisor: Travel the World with Haiku [C]
Trip Advisor: Travel the World with Haiku [D]
Haikus for Jews [A]
Haikus for Jews [B]
Haikus for Jews [C]
The 'Big 10' Hindu Pantheon Haiku
We scan our inner mind
We wonder about wondering
We wonder at the brazen impunity
Of the evil done
Dead child here
Dead child there
dead loins in our underwear
I LOVE YOU ANGELINA JOLIE!
AND OTHER FANTACIES
In free moments I see you everywhere!
Creating visions born from love and gentle prosperity
As if it all was real
And we were real
And really here
Names written in sand or flayed and mutilated flesh
I LOVE YOU
In a moment free we live
We are the savages,
normalities stand from a distance and secretly admire
the domesticated eyeing in envy to our resilience of society's taming shackles
so they reject us with pointed accusing fingers
forever deemed an unworthy animal.
We belong to nature and they're all hunters
fully equipped with nonfictional weapons to destroy the wilderness with in
poaching our furs and horns
only to hold the satisfying idea we are becoming extinct.
We believe in something greater
its a diamond ring proposal of freedom
sparkling in the sunlight of judgment
unfazed by starless nights
we still shine bright in total darkness
becoming a beacon of light to the helpless moths.
We are born as nomads of law and principles
they want to break us, bind us in rules and regulations
take our souls and throw them to the masses of cold blooded creatures
they all swim mindlessly in a wonderland of controlled morality
but to the hot blooded, these cool waters are foreign
forever belonging on land
letting our predator instincts be the guide
knowing what is right and where to flee when its wrong
but they expect us to drown with the rest
in the materialistic greed infested river of the world.
We will never be broken
we are the wild
we are self thinkers
we are the untouchable spirited winds of the world
rebel eyed with our backs against those who have become the thoughtless corps
filled with animosity and jealousy
we are free and we roam the jungles of prosperity
still shining bright, a true savage.