its a funny feeling;
or lack thereof
when you finally realize
you don't care,
you don't give a shit
nor does anyone else
you feel as though
you maybe should
so you act.
you pretend to be someone
who you know isn't real
a fake person.
in a pretend body
being who they aren't
the pressures get to you
with everyone else pretending too
feel like its normal
to hide who you really are
really doesn't care
truthfully doesn't give a shit
Hey brother can you spare a buck
I wouldn't give a fuck
But you see I'm down to my last cigarette
Now I ain't got no legs
And I don't give a damn
Lost them in Afghanistan
And Uncle Sam....he don't give a damn
One way or the other
But that's the way my luck
Has always ran
Hey Brother can you spare a buck
I'm down to my last cigarette
And that's all I give a shit about
You can walk on by
You can turn your eyes
It won't make me cry
I've fought stronger men than you
But hey Brother can you spare a buck
I'd like some more smokes
To get me through
Hey Brother nice shoes
Got a cigarette?
i cannot explain
how i am feeling
for i have no reason
and no medical condition
i saw the way
the shit of the world
and left you dry
in saying that my scars
you had no idea
that it made me bleed
to please you
tonight i am feeling more alone
and this is why i am finding myself
crying on your bathroom floor
tears mixing with blood and betrayal
the only thing i have left
is my courage
and my strength
Elbows propped on tabletops,
we roll out our worlds, like a red carpet,
across the surface between us.
Mapping out our weeks
we speak in riddles
only able to be understood by
present company and others with
an acute appreciation for the absurd.
We begin by bouncing pleasantries
mingled with snark and
littered with nonsense stories
across the space where our scotch glasses
drain lazily between us.
Brings with it a new tone-
we begin to slip into hypotheticals
and start the dangerous
and all too familiar process of
looking over our own shoulders.
The past seems to sneak
into the pauses and reminiscing starts
to seem too surreal to be appealing.
And we are forced to keep reluctant company
with the regret that now speckles the tabletop in front of me.
Our eyes retreat from each other
as our mouths start forming
around our greatest inadequacies.
Fear of the future,
we're petrified by the present.
We are forgetting how to be hesitant
as coping mechanics drift and split.
Shit starts to get real.
You try to be ambivalent.
And I just get angry.
I am entertaining the possibility
of weeping publically.
(It's an unfortunate emotional default setting)
We find our way back
to the familiar.
Accessing the damage
we joke to save face
while working to wind the loose ends
back together again
to stash them from where they came.
(But nothing ever fits back into its box as easily after its been unpacked)
Each week we try to be
each other's comfort zone
to crawl inside
to rest awhile.
But tonight we're too exhausted
and too self-absorbed
and too similar to get it right.
We'll try again next week,
on the next high-top next Wednesday night.
So you're saying you're proud and
Grateful to have so much freedom, opportunity, wealth
Well, I'm not.
Sociocentrism is an ugly, unnatural state
Everything we have takes away from someone else
We try to pretend there's no connection, that the plight of others is cause by their own failing
That we are deserving
Convinced that this is all here for us
We take and take and take
But every terror we inflict on anything "else" is a terror upon the self
We protect our so called civil liberties with wage slavery, chemical abuse, and ecological terrorism
Profit baby, profit über ales
Well congratulations to us
This is nationalism at its finest
No, I'm not fucking proud of it
If you want to take credit, be my guest
Just ask India about policies of profit over regulations, about denim and dye and death
Ask Mexico about farming, their take on the "Fair Trade Act"
Ask the rainforest if it remembers what it was like to have trees
Try to find an Arawak to ask anything
Ask 63 countries what it feels like to have a US military base keeping watch
And what would happen if another country tried to build a base on this soil
Or maybe ask why you never learned shit about any other country
Much less about your own
Back in History class
Survival of the fittest, you say?
A dog eat dog world?
Alright, let's play
This country is overrun by dogs, that's true
But honey, we're not eating any other dogs
We're eating poison and calling it food
While our leaders give Monsanto handjobs under the table
We are "the world's leading nation" and we're dropping like flies
No, not dead
Just into hospital beds and prison cells
Our country is filled with poverty, racism, violence, and terror
Not to mention obesity heart disease depression anxiety and PTSD
We're over-medicated malnourished and spiritually starved
We're pissed off at a whole lot of bullshit
That means nothing in the scheme of anything
Fully engaged in the myth of a two-party system
Even though most of what we see and hear is merely distraction
Thank you, media, all 6 of you big beautiful monoliths
I'm so lucky I have the opportunity to be informed!
We're a nation divided by details
While our leaders run in circles pouting fat fingers at each other
Engrossed in this thing we call "politics"
I'm really glad you're proud
They say ignorance is bliss
But I think it's more like a shiny polyester suit
Holding together a parasite infested mess
Sitting in a recliner after a hard days work of trying to stay afloat on a mountain of debt in a drowning economy
Bottles of medication on the table, GMOs in the fridge
Quietly doing what they're told
Never wondering why
Falling asleep to the glow of the TV whispering fear and terror, us and them, buy and buy and buy
The sweet purr of "freedom"
i wasn't lying
the weeping and wailing started weeks ago
what i didn't predict was the writhing
literal kicks of frustration
i've never been more serious
what have you unleashed, you madman?
clearly, it's all your fault for starting this
nudging me right out
of fucking rotation with the sun
i didn't know this other shit was out here!
it's dark...and deep...and consuming
and i want to
you come and
useless, dead cells from my brain
stealing my oxygen
warping my perception
leaving me breathless
and high as a goddamn kite
and again you come
prowling like a lion
sweet mother of god
you son of a bitch!
leaving me with these memories...
most others i throw away
i have posted guards
i have reinforced with steel
these WILL stay
i'm sure i was but a fly
i can see you swatting
well, my friend
that was not nice...
to knock me out of rotation
pull me into new space
then pick me up
and firmly plant me back
into the boring old stupid rotation
like nothing ever happened
because of you
i have to forcibly regulate my heartbeat
multiple times a day
these words, for christ's sake
they will not stop
the moment i let them go
i feel others loosely forming
i see glimpses
but there is no respite from this madness
why have you cast a spell on me?
for the love of the light, why do you move like you do?
you know damn well nothing else will suffice
you unleashed a wildness
that will not be contained
i guess i better just
batten down the hatches
with my pen and paper
it's gonna be a long night.
Was walking in a street one day
Nowhere to go, no one I knew
Heading to the unknown world
Hoping for nothing,
zero expectation ,
My head was empty
My heart sang a lonely song
I became a beggar not by choice
Lost everything in a stupid bet
Ended up in a lonely street...
Friends became enemies
Relatives deserted me
My wife changed her surname
My kids told friends their dad was dead
My thirst , my hunger was haunting me
and starvation killed my sleep
Sky was home, bus stop was bed...
Damned hungry... damned tired
Should I call Pizza Hut delivery?
checked my pocket...
hoping for a dollar or two
Shit! There was a big hole in my pocket!
What choice did I have now?
They all said " Beggars can't choose."
They say only the depth varies
Shit is shit !
I beg to differ
Thick as glue knee deep, is no more nor less a hold on you than chest deep water
The shit as they call it is life's trials
Some won some lost
Some enduring others endearing
Often never ending
The depth only rising and falling as you cope
So I ask is it simply just shit?
Take a look at your neighbours and see
Check they haven't gone under!
The shit squelches underneath
fingertips, whose only barrier
is plushly folded paper.
Clench, release, dispose,
rinse, and flush away
oh so human.
It's a funny little word
Because it's so fucking offensive
And it's so fucking little
But everyone flips their shit
But those people
Can go fuck themselves
Or get fucked by someone else
Because they need a fucking reality check
That fuck is not the fucking problem
The problem is their fucking beliefs
That a single fucking word
Can offend them more than the actual fucking issue at hand
Arguing about a fucking paycheck
And suddenly someone uses fuck
And that's fucking it
It doesn't matter that the paycheck is fucking small
That you don't have enough fucking money to pay your fucking bills
No that doesn't fucking matter anymore
Because she had the nerve to use fuck
And maybe that offends you
But what offends her and us and everyone
Is that fact that you can't get off your fucking high horse
And admit that you fucked up
Admit that you didn't fucking succeed
So you have to turn the fucking blame on him
For 4 letters
And 1 syllable
But maybe if you'd quit pointing the fucking blame
You wouldn't have a small fucking paycheck
And you wouldn't have to be so fucking stressed
And you could fucking relax
And you wouldn't be such a fucking asshole
Just fucking maybe
We could find it in our fucking hearts
To forgive you.
You fucking fuck.