one look from the window
- will make all days be right
when that beauty hits my mind
- my heart capitulates.

Though I wish it was not
the case
this human race
does not want
an honest human being.

Instead, they want shiny
expensive
status symbols
but all I have to offer
is love and wisdom.

When I am gone
Please weep for me
Grieve to see
The loss
Take that pain
Knowing I will not
Come again
and channel it in to
being a kinder you
and cherishing those
who still remain

Do not make
The mindless masses
Your moral arbitrator
Think don’t just act
And forget about
Your actions later

It is an altar
Of altered skin tones
People prostrate
Themselves
In front of
The mirror
Trying to mirror
Fake reality stars
Forgetting what real
Role models look like
The good guys
Who made art with heart
Set pen to higher purpose
But consumer queens
Who have been digitally remastered
Get more action
Then the masters
How many people
Remember Percy Shelley
Or Michael Landon
Two ages apart
Two different hearts
Who would not abandon
Humanity
Two voices in the desert
One Romantic Poet
And one Tv actor
Hearts held high
They do not lie
But your new age heroes
Breed greed
Sell self interest
I miss that
Age of curiosity
And generation
Of compassion

Welcome to the me society
Look at me
Give me
Me technology
That builds a bubble of biasness

I want
I should have
Without giving back
Without sharing that
Which makes us human

But I want
To live to see
An us society
What can we do
To make life better
For our brothers
And sisters

All hail the return of the romantics
New age sages that fight consumerism
Poets that ride the roads like Kerouac
Going home then farther back
To old poets who fathered that
Rich traditions of humanity
With deep thoughts and sweet abstractions
Before dull poets and their dumb factions
Demanded we stick to form
Then demanded formlessness
Casually pursued simplicity
For the lack of eloquence
Thought they had to write to lesser men
Not figuring that we are them
And by writing truth we
Keep them growing
By showing the full strength and beauty
Of this brutal language
We all evolve
Till we are romantics one and all

It is this world that makes me weep
Broken bodies and burnt babies
Exist in fiery moments
Then digital references
Etched in the bloodiest corners
Of humanity’s mind

And I find that I am to weak
Too tired to speak
To many thoughts to think
Ideas on how to link
That which is already connected

These invisible strings
How you forget them
Denying that we are part of a collective

Violence is a ****** wound
I stick my finger in
Pulling out viscera
And making paint brushes
Canvassing all the horrors
So you can see the sick splatter art

So you can feel what it is like
When warm becomes cold
When soldiers do what they are told
Without questioning
Playing
With the video game
Bomb dropping
Remote control plane

I cry
A less tempered metal
Melted flesh
That matches this madness
Holding your hand
And hoping
Something of me
Infects the essence of you
With love, peace, hope,
And understanding

Is anyone else ****** about the merger of Bayer and Monsanto?

Does anyone even know?




http://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2016-09-14/the-******-laced-history-behind-the-year-s-biggest-deal

yubanet.­com/opinions/katherine-paul-bayer-and-monsanto-a-merger-of-two-evils/

You go to church on Sunday
And then you've done your part.
Instead of saying “I hate that *****
You just say “Bless her heart.”
Monday starts the week anew
With dog-eat-dog intention.
Live and let live and the like
Seldom rates a mention.

Help the poor and needy
Doesn't pull too much weight
When measuring by dollar signs
To decide what is truly great.
The Bible verses get changed:
“Do unto others” is rewritten
To “Do what we can get by with.”
Thus is the common man smitten.

So you allow the Congress
To do whatever they want:
Outlaw our rights and rob us,
Laugh at us and then flaunt
That nobody can touch them
As they bleed the land dry.
We're just to bless their hearts
While the watch us slowly die.

We can keep on pretending
That everything is just,
Then go to church on Sunday
And brag about “In God we trust”,
Or we could wake the hell up
And start to participate
In what used to be our country
Right now before it's too late.

But that would mean standing up
And not just going along
And not following on party lines
Not singing the downtrodden song.
It means questioning our leaders,
But, you see, right there is the rub.
If we stop ourselves from being robbed
We can't belong to the Hypocrite Club.

You think you know anguish?
You do,
and every time you hurt
I am standing next to you.

With every jagged stained glass tear
that cuts across you tortured skin
bleeding equal part what’s out
to what you keep putting in,
I am watching you.

My kin, dear brother and sister
unevenly met
in the dark places
that I have not visited yet
but I am always close by

When the cold concrete
is your winter pillow
and pneumonia coughs
liquefy your lungs
till, you puke fear and despair
I am there.

When the bomb blast
shakes the very core
of your family values
and your shadows
are more real
then those who were killed
cause remembering
is the worse nightmare of all
just know
I am walking two steps behind.

When your face was red
wearing welts of her rage
bruises and broken ribs
stifling your breaths
while you wished for death,
I was on your shoulder
looking through your eyes
loving you,
wanting to comfort,
and understand you
and the ones who hurt you to.

So, maybe
my light can banish the violence
and joy can spring anew
letting all of you
join me.

For you I bleed poetry
As the red depths flow from my wrists
Words that strive and persist
To touch your heart
Mastering metaphorical starts
That drain as I strain
To purge pain from my brain
Passion shortens the strings of my life
But fate can wait because I am a fire alive
I bleed poetry for you
Scratching the deep dark wounds
Exposing the scars that used to keep me bound
Until the light of expression was found
This journey can hurt like a knife in the eye
But that pain is the juice that helps me to write
I bled for you, fed on truths to help you through
And when I cease to do what I do
That will be the day when you know
That the shadow of life has been expunged from my soul
Remember, I loved you with poetry

You tore our planet to pieces
Ripped up the land with your strife
Civil wars, and genocides
Snuffed out all that potential life
Creating a void that no light can pierce

With your war and consumerism
You closed but increased the distance
Between rational human beings
Stirring the masses on to
Mass extinction
Despite my pleading, crying, and screaming
Leaving me voiceless in obscurity
In the name of fake security
And false promises of prosperity

Oh, my dear humanity
If I could have died for this lost cause
I would have
But you have
Even managed to deny me that sweet mercy

I have been walking two lines converging on crazy
And what comes out could be dangerous or amazing
The poet, pretender to philosopher’s crown
Dark comedic angel in a deep demonic town
No magic, no spells, or special pills
Will solve the problem or change how we feel
I having been dreaming awake living to take
Absorbing the truths, the lies, and the mistakes
Duality is natural confusion to be expected
Course changes without maps till the maps have been corrected
Road aren’t marked and will probably never be
But I still have to struggle and share what I see and believe
There are shadows at night, darkness in the light
A speck of spurious people so curious that they might
Figure something out, may understand what this is about
Before I even finish this line in this poem
May die before I ever get the chance to know them
Though they sparkle and shine with human brilliance
May be slaughtered by vile corporate slash political villains
Marching with marked up manifestoes puffed up with pride
Pushing past boundaries built from the inside
Borders of nations, and faith erased, with me, one little man
Trying to help hasten this great geniuses plan
Lifting up armies of artist living to spread universal love
Raising families millions of miles away isn’t that tough
Great ideas sneak up on societies and start swallowing them whole
All we need to do is let go of the illusion of control
Get rid of the fools who think they know better than the rest
Keep open minds from being tortured or repressed
What is beautiful exists in everybody’s spiritual body
The spark of potential that no science or religion can control or copy
So we the children of love living on this plane of atomic vibrations
**** on the sweet milk baring *** of social inspiration
We work the wills of the world into the motion of our desire
We spread the words of change like a raging forest fires
No one can stop the ripples across the water once they have started
And no one but us can heal the sphere of the broken hearted