A microscopic pathogen's
epic odyssey,
started his quest
of comradery,
across many lands
beyond the seven seas.

Vincent the Virus
but you can call him Vinnie
holding luggage full of tricks,
with mutations of plenty.

On a cruise ship, he sailed
and planes he did fly;
freeloading his way,
from travelers passing by.

Ashes to ashes
and host to host.
A viral sensation
from coast to coast.

Becoming famous
virtually overnight,
collapsing economies,
tripping lymphocytes.

Cherry-pick the parts that fit your narrative.
Discard the others, they are imperative.

Cherry-pick all the "Yes Men" you like.
Trust what they say, believe the hype.

Cherry Pick this slippery ***** we're descending on.
Plunge down the proverbial landslide we came upon.

My tiny little atom
sitting all alone.
This tiny little atom
make up my chromosomes.

Another little atom
will form a molecule.
More will come together
and make a soluble.

The building blocks of life
with electrons spinning round
will latch on to each other
forming chemical compounds.

Plump me with Botox
so I won’t grow old.
Un-sag my skin
watch it unfold.

Can you tell my emotions
by my ****** expression?
Then it isn’t working,
need more injections.

Tighten my skin,
stretch it over my cranium.
Fill it with chemicals,
shine like titanium.

My lips are thinning,
and the cameras are ready,
hyaluronic acid, please,
just keep the needle steady.

There are five stages of grief my therapist told me.
I did them out of order, thanks to my chronic ADD.

Denial was supposed to be the first stage,
but Bargaining is what I did.
I bantered with myself for days,
placing unrealistic bets and bids.

Anger is said to be next,
but Denial is what appeared.
My situation was too perplex
I wanted it to disappear.

Acceptance took Bargaining's place,
I embraced my defeat.
I bowed down from a losing race,
not wanting a repeat.

Anger transpired instead of being sad.
Depression didn't come like I was told.
Sounds cliché, but I was boiling mad,
I saw red and lost control.

Acceptance was not what I felt last,
Depression was the unaltered state I was in.
Melancholy was my final forecast
of grief’s ultimate tailspin

Speculative perspective
is the mood for tonight.
Investigating my reality;
ruminating the moonlight.

With a stilleto stemmed glass
filled with Chardonnay,
I'll take my first person
on a questionable display.

Do I judge too harshly?
Do people push me over?
Do my emotions control
my chemical composure?

Do I practice empathy
by wearing someone's shoes?
While trying to understand
a different point of view?

Do I come off as authentic?
Do I truly mean my words?
Or do I come off as crazy
and totally absurd?

Do I aim to please people
and forget about myself?
Do I take offense
with my pride being shelved?

Are my beliefs, the truth?
Or are they just an illusion?
Gaslighting me into
a state of confusion.

Honesty will protect me
from a world that's cold and bitter.
Hindsight's the appetizer, and
perspective, it's what's for dinner.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
a wise man once said.

Alas, the beholder of beauty is dead, gone away.
The internet killed him and left him to decay.

Her blanket is insecurity,
her pillow is commotion.
She gladly bites the hand that feeds
her curiosity of emotion.

Colors are what she feels,
this she finds true.
When sadness does appear
she sees a cliched blue.

But when happiness is present
pink and purple will adhere.
Blossoms of pastels
throughout her atmosphere.

Antihistamines are used
to shut her weary eyes.
Insomnia will go away
until tomorrow night.

My mind is politically correct,
but my shoes have no soul.
I have gained some retrospect,
after losing self-control.

I’m washing my brain.
A clean slate is what I need.
Reprogramming my frame,
rinse and repeat.

A Scarecrow in a field?
How typically cliché!
Just hanging around
scaring crows all day?!

But this is my life
it is what I become.
adapted to my environment
comfortably numb.

Perched on these poles
like a broken Christ,
no thoughts of my own
to ponder at night.

If I only had a brain
to keep me company!
An imagination to use
to create a fantasy!

I'd calculate equations
while protecting the harvest.
An intellectual of knowledge,
a scholar of the smartest.

A critical thinker,
yes that's what I said!
With scientific theories
dancing in my head!

What...??!!

Do my eyes deceive?
Who is this girl...
approaching me...???

She has a basket in her hand;
skipping on a street
There is a tiny brown dog
following her feet...

Look at her shoes!!..They are sparkly red!
What could she possibly want
from a scarecrow that's brain-dead...?

To Be Continued...

There’s something about cliché’s,
how they never leave my pen.
I sketch them into my decay
every now and then.

There’s something about banality,
the obvious trite remark.
I recruit into my personality
like a discarded counterpart.

There’s something about satire
and how humor causes grief;
to the audience, it aspired
from an egotistical belief

The monster in my closet
I wish was pretend.
He’s real as can be
but, hard to comprehend.

At night is when he comes
out the closet door;
exactly just the same
as the night before.

He whispers in my ear
in a maniacal tone.
All my fear and doubts
that I tried to disown.

I start to feel the panic
as my heart palpitates.
Believing all the words
he tries to elaborate.

Worrying sets in
sleep will not occur.
He robs my peace of mind,
an insomnia connoisseur.

Anxiety’s demon
sent to destroy,
positive thoughts
I wanted to employ

My ventricle chamber
bleeds midnight,
pumping despair,
absent of light.

My atrium houses
a hemorrhaging ghost,
haunted isolation’s
conjured host.

The heart is a cavity
a decaying shell,
reality ceases
agony swells.

Ladies and Gentlemen,
may I have your attention, please!
I have something I need to share,
something I need to Tweet!

This came up,
but I don't know the source,
Citation is not needed,
because there’s truth in these words.

Did you read?
Can you believe what happened!
We need to use force,
we must take action!

We are right
they are wrong,
no need to be debated.
No exchanging of ideas,
no words will be communicated.

My loyal followers,
I know you agree with me!
I have the right to my hate,
and a right to be angry!

Let's pass this around,
create a meme,
make it go viral.
Send their life on a downward spiral!

My loyal subjects,
you make my Dopamine levels rise!
Every time you leave a comment,
every time I get a "like"!

A man of conviction,
a cult of personality.
His name was Thomas More,
a philosopher of society.

An advisor to the king
a saint some would say.
He met his dreadful fate,
on a cold November day.

Treason was his crime
a direct correlation,
he skipped the ceremony
of Boelyn's coronation.

Tyranny took over
the Tudors dynasty.
You do not snub the wives
of the infamous King Henry.

Rhetorical theory
taking me over,
conspiracy meltdown
ticking composure.

Cranial seizures
convulse in time.
The Dominos fall
in a perfect line.

Tell me a lie,
I can believe.
Tell me a truth,
that will deceive.

The glass of my conscious
slips and shatters.
The story will end
when nothing else matters.

Sarcasm is my home.
It’s where I hang my hat.
My comfortable surroundings,
a prosperous habitat.

Cynicism are my shoes.
I tie the laces tight.
A thousand miles I will walk
with a jaded appetite.

Enthusiasm is my glass.
It is always half full.
Because life is so exciting
and unpredictable.

Nihilism is my coat,
I wear when it is cold.
It shields me from conforming winds
from a world that has been sold.

Skepticism is my hat.
I question everyone.
The brim holds a query
for civilized discussion.

Criticism is my mirror,
it’s the reflection that I see.
I judge it when I stand before
my harsh realities.

Stereo's type A
completely predictable
in typical ways.

A little irony goes a long way.
Give me a mile
and I’ll have something to say.

But I’m all out of irony.
My pockets are bare.
Are you even listening?
Do you even care?

Do you have some to lend?
I could use some right now.
My field has gone stale
I have no row to plow.

I’m accepting donations.
I am reaching out,
for someone to hydrate
my ironic drought.

Catching the Flu
starts with a sneeze,
a tickle of the throat
and a little wheeze.

My nose starts draining
an abundance of mucus.
The sounds from my throat
are becoming a nuisance.

Fever, chills,
my body is infested.
My head and joints ache
so Tylenol is digested.

I’m now a pariah
to the common health,
people in close contact
brace themselves.

I’m stuck inside, I have nowhere to be.
Come over darling and keep me company.
Sharing is caring, can’t you see?
Do you want to catch the Flu with me?

Love and Loneliness
were conceived together,
twins of the universe
separated by ether.

Strong-willed siblings
with an infinite fortitude
that Love is hope
and Loneliness is solitude.

They comfort each other
when life changes progression;
Love gives guidance
and Loneliness, reflection.

AND.....SCENE!

Well done!
Now,  with your permission,
I need to critique your
acting audition.

Sit beside me, on this tufted couch.
We have a lot to discuss, a lot to talk about.

A diamond in the rough is what I see.
The silver screen is where you belong,
where you need to be.

I can polish
the rough parts of your exterior.
Compared to other actresses,
you will be superior!

Don't be shy! Relax!
Come closer!
Let me help....
I'll massage your back,
rub your shoulders....

Now, where was I..?

Yes! You will win Oscars
made of gold!
The spotlight is yours
to control!

Everyone will know
who you are!
A household name!
A shining star!

What's that?
I make you uncomfortable?..What of propriety...?
I just offered you a platform of wealth and notoriety!

Who do you think you are!?
Do you know who I am?!
All of Hollywood
is under my command!

Nothing is free,
there is always a price!
It is selfish of you
to think otherwise!

The buttons placed
on your blouse
will determine what
I will allow.

A song that's been sung,
the lyrics don't change.
You must pay the piper
for fortune and fame.

I can make or break
I do it all the time.
I have movie producers
waiting in line.

If you don't succumb
to my desire,
I will find another girl
to hire.

You will never be employed
it will be such a shame.
You'll become a pariah,
with a soiled name.

The choice is yours...
Do you want to be a celebrity?
It starts on this couch..
what's it going to be?

Autumn, where have you been?
I think I’ve had enough.
For years I have been onto you
and I finally caught your bluff.

Fashionably late is fine,
it happens to the best of us.
Seasons sometimes take their time
in this cosmic wanderlust.

The problem is you never show
in the humid Houston air.
You bail on me every year
in this blistering town square.

Please, just get back over here
and throw some leaves upon the ground.
Make it a promise for old times' sake,
and please say you’ll stick around.

The mirror never lies.
It’s her only friend,
revealing only what
her reflection understands

Dysmorphia of her body,
a twisted trunk of bones.
The food has no thought
to the dogma she condones.

Her gastric acid sets
in her gut it boils and stews.
Nothing to digest,
no absorption to diffuse.

Her duodenums empty,
a vacant anatomic place.
The enzymes will expire
disappear without a trace.

Her clavicle is sharp,
a knife that cuts her veins.
The ribs protrude out,
under the skin, it starts to strain.

The image in the glass
She doesn’t recognize,
She talks to her through
a pair of sunken eyes.

What’s that? You want to fail at life you say?
Well my friend! I’ll teach you my ways!
You came to the right place, I dare say!
Because I fail at life every day!

I’ll be your teacher and you’ll be my mentor.
I’ll show you all the things I’m unaccountable for.
Because that is the first thing you must know my dear pupil.
Take no responsibility, blame everyone, it’s really quite simple.

The next step is extremely crucial.
You must focus on all the negative around you.
Ignore the positive, it means nothing.
You’re catching on I see! Let’s keep going!

The last  lesson I need to teach is gratitude.
Don’t feel it or show it, it’s all in the attitude.
It’s called Entitlement, act like you don’t care.
Perfect!! Hold it right there!

So that is the all the tools you need to succeed.
Have fun failing at life, Godspeed!

Jealousy wears many hats I have come to know.
Some hats are bought, some are stolen and some are borrowed.

They all come in a variety of colors with different shapes and sizes;
being flaunted with emotional compromises.

Anger is a hat I have seen Jealousy don on many occasions.
It’s a fire red derby with pointy spikes,
a hellish sensation.

Sorrow is another hat Jealousy will wear from time to time:
It's a black top hat with a blue velvet line.
There is a purple veil that conceals the eyes,
a bewitching melancholic surprise.

Radio murdered the live musician.
It had no regrets,
this was the intention.

Video killed the radio star.
Beauty became the focus,
rather than playing a guitar.

The internet shot music videos down.
Took a whole network with it,
no one needs their MTV now.

Who will massacre the internet?
The verdicts still out,
I'm not ready to place my bet.

Bite your tongue,
let the venom drip.
Feel the arsenic
sting your lips.

Digest the poison
of your thoughts,
let it churn until
the blood will clot.

Preserve the perverse?
Or will destruction suffice?
Obliterate these stones,
digest my sacrifice.

Benevolence killed my Gods
with the sound of a verb,
an explosion of chaos
from the emotionally disturbed.

Feel the vibrations
that the giant is churning.
A titanium army
can't stop what is coming.

Words can't be burned,
for they can’t hold a flame.
Immortality is concealed,
from the death of the vain.  

But it will come around
as reactions tend to do,
because Karma does not sleep,
she is coming for you.