If you looked in her purse,
what a world you'd find,
Sugar packets, tooth picks,
the purse itself was a shrine.
Cheddar bay biscuits
wrapped in paper napkins,
Those were her favorite,
doggy back wins.
Ketchup and creamers,
things to dip, pick, and ****
Nothing ever got wasted,
howbeit how strange
howbeit how odd.
You see it never much mattered what there was to take,
Depression era babies procured without some much as a shake.
I think about you when I see Sweet N’Low,
I miss you so much Gram, just wanted you to know.

You smelled different when I kissed you tonight,
A sort of sterile smell,
Sweet but foreign.
Your cries and your feet swollen with pain.
Your hunger is gone, at least mostly so.
Your eyes betray you
They share the secrets you’ve never told
They speak about the pain you’ve tried to hide
And they tell anyone who is listening about your broken spirit.
You’re living for us
And we for you.
We fake a smile and kiss you softly while our minds trail off in thoughts of never touching you again.
You are not gone yet
But we have quietly begun the procession.

The apocalypse brings cotton candy skies,
it is more beautiful than once supposed.
There is terror in the state of the world
But with it, the beauty, juxtapose.

While fires still rage down below,
even as day begins to fade.
The sunset stops you in your tracks
and takes your breath away.

The street lights buzz mid afternoon
intended light in the darkness of days.
but like the sun in the sky above
it only stands to illuminate the haze.

The apocalypse brings forests of snow white corals
it is more beautiful than once supposed.
The ocean has begun its game of chest
Death's strategy played unopposed.

Marble statues line the oceans' hues
Life and color have already fled
What was once a thriving coral reef
lies stagnant and desolate instead.

It's elegance is like fresh snow
A quiet field of white
It's hard to turn your eyes from God
though you know it's not quite right.

The apocalypse brings protests in the street
the people's message is well known
United cries for justice and peace
Interrupted when tear gas is thrown.

Say his name painted all around,
Harmony is the peoples' dream
A commonality of hope
bounce off shields of the swat team.

It's a wonder to see the united rise
Love kissing us all awake
For the betterment of all that live
shot down by fear and hate.

The apocalypse brings with it the beauty of life
Right before the end
At least enjoy the majesty
Before we all descend.

Charles Bukowski- Don't try

Franz Kafka- The idea that hardship is constant and insurmountable, but we try to mount it anyway

I've been calling it a ping recently
carelessly labeled like a home movie
or a sound effect without a title,
named out of thin air to solidify.

This ping does not toast with cheers or any joy,
No champagne bubbles in this type of ping.
This ping does not involve shared embraces
Though it is silently shared none the less.

This ping, instead, is similar to the
feeling of being impossibly lost.
It's like pin pointing the ambiguous
emotion of helplessness to real time.

This ping shows up in the physical realm
even though it is but a feeling felt.
You can see it when you look at their eyes,
Refusing to come up for air, look up.

This ping exists because there is so much
that goes unspoken between all of us.
Felt it when I found your old notebook, ping.
Felt it then too but tried to smile, ping.

This ping expects me to ignore you there,
pass by without a glance or a hello.
Feel it when I see red and your sign, ping.
Feel it when I pass you and your stuff, ping.

People often question weather humans
are ultimately good or if they're bad.
I usually just laugh and look down, ping.
My eyes, they shout "Isn't it obvious?"

The buzz of the fly trapped in an open house.
An artificial cylinder tips in the whisper of the open windows.

Three months of one sided conversations.

The day the door wider ajar with anticipation.

A disturbance like a celebration interrupted.
Darkness locks behind, webs but a vail.
Silence a future unknown.

It’s nice the way we all can see the trees,
Even if we can’t always see the difference.
The greens maybe a sort of color evolved
and we view the trunks as just things to climb.
But that does not dull the rainbow’s spectrum,
Perhaps that just changes the colors being seen.