Entombed in these scripts
Are countless lists
A chain of 'wants'
Self-inflicted torture daunts

And the mind grows colder
Reiteration. Older, bolder.
Perhaps not wiser
Affection? A miser.

Grey matter glistens, clean
Wrinkle-less, pure.
Elect the means
Analytics astir

You are already dead
Bought, sold and traded
Ukulele is the dread
A modicum so faded

There's a twang of a string
It brings great reckoning
And down below
We observe the show

And know we know;
'How to think"

The speech is simple--alright, even good
The motifs are coy--effective narrative toys
Yet we pander, an incestuous neighborhood
Words for art or egotistical ploys?

I remember as a kid
This one time I hid
To see who would look
Hours I waited
I even baited
Yet the temptations never took

I sat in the dark, alone
The first time without a home
Eventually, I fell asleep
Perhaps too tired to weep

For something I never had

I grew older, I grew bolder
My heart yearning for a holder
While we are born alone
We can relate, we can atone

I sought solace in compromise
An ulterior motive in which to subscribe
Payments due, yet a place to confide
All the secrets I hoard inside

It was never a fun ride

And I am older still
Maybe not quite 'over the hill'
But, I know what I have learned--
At first; 'safety', later 'acceptance' and then 'a thrill'
Fun takes its toll. Climb up that pole. Feed that pain a pill
We **** and we pillage, orphan a village--all for what've we yearned

We are sociopaths, the lot.
We cared naught.
For the heartache we begot
'We never asked to be here"
"We are free and clear in the direction we steer"
If that is the case,
We only replicate the beast to satiate
Take a moment. Stop and think. Pause and wait.

Have you become the 'good' or the things you 'hate'?

I see her dance in the pale of the morning light

The morning is young
Colors eek out, unsung
The day hasn't quite begun

I see her
We depart

The night draws black
The curtain of day draws back
With no slack

I see her again
We depart

A wolf and an owl; this tale
Two ships set upon a moonlit sail

After years they will come
To find their maker's sum
To see;
Clouds conjoin like cumulonimbus lovers

The Crowd rises
A standing ovation ensues
You've won your "prizes"
Now, payment is due

If you write without loss
Then there is nary a cost
If you write from pain
It all sounds the same

If you write for truth & beauty
If writing is your duty
If the words won't cease
No sleep, no release

When it all comes in too fast
Future hopes, moments past
When words are a blur
And listless, we stir

Racing. Racing. Racing.

Faster, harder, better, more strong
A place where we never belong
In each death, I write a song
Against the cacophony of the throng

Less is more
(More or less)
Allow the future you behest
Worry not for the 'test'
Of creativity in arrest

Write Good Words.

Your struggle is yours
And yours, alone
A cacophony of chores
Relationships, atone?

A cycle to the brink
A played sum, a conundrum
Infinite noise to think and think
The dull beats of a dumb-drum

And you wish it
As hard as you can
And you miss it
With every falling stand

And you see now
At the beginning
And understand how
There is no 'winning'

Just losing ground

I rest now, far away from 'home'
Incredible distance  from the human 'race'
A final shelter of solace, to be alone
The void of the negative space

Hello, Hello Poetry
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All those words you do care

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Write, good words!