It is not dreams of space exploration
that pull me from my comfy bed.
It is not grand heroic battles
that keep me dreaming deeply
as something brilliant
stirs within my head.

I am not certain if it is hope
that moves me lumbering
like a starry-eyed fool
always falling forward
failing but trying to improve.

I cannot say if it is fear
that pushes me on
while time devours
every past second
of sweetly flowered
and cherished moments,
succumbing to the numbing
of distance and distortion.

I do not know why I struggle.
I have longs since lost the notions
of fairness and love,
social drugs and idealism
do not override
my late-night fatalism and realism.

In truth I do not have anything,
nothing is mine cause all is transient.
Even these words though poignant
are less then digital dust
in time’s furious
and unrelenting movement,
marching on beyond everything.

It doesn’t come easy,
but harrows the soul completely,
those murderous men
beast masters wearing
army fatigues
that bomb everything.

Children, and parents,
dead or dying
while family members
crumble crying.

Politicians parrot
strategic obfuscation
of crimes against
another nation.

Water sources stolen,
democracy denied
when it does not supply
capitalistic outcomes
of wealth for the
already really wealthy.

There are real monsters,
call them soldiers and leaders,
killers of the poor hungry people
who were already struggling.

There are real monsters,
businessmen
who are profiting
from the wars in
other poorer regions.

There are real monsters,
ones that we vote in,
that were bought and paid for
by those who want more war.

They paint the world red,
while we go merrily
ignorant to bed.

You heard what I said,
but you will just
stuff it in
a box you never intend
to be opened again
and forget it all.

I wish it was easier,
that, that ***** didn’t
seize the girl
and with violence
end her fragile world.

I wish there was certainty,
that the just would rise
and we would see
justice served fairly.

I wish there was a scale
that balanced good
and everyone could tell
evil would be discovered easily
and the bad guys would always
end up in jail.

If I had more clout
or courage with less
bouts of doubt
I would turn these
wishes into
a reality that serves
all of humanity,
one that helps us
get over
what the **** dudes
with entitled attitudes
put us all through.

This world isn’t much.
It’s actually pretty bad
and this population of
people make me so mad,

but every once in a while
I’ll find some art to make me smile,
and get me through
the rougher times.

There’s greed and corruption
corroding all I know,
like an acid that’s dripping
burning my throat.
So, all of this horror I see
is hard to swallow,
and sometimes it makes
it even harder to breathe,

but every once in a while
I’ll see some kindness
that makes me cry and smile.

This reality is way off key,
but I can still hear its discordant melody
singing so many strange verses
of inspiration into me,
makes me love more humanly,
bringing out the better parts
of my torn and tattered humanity
and maybe that is all I need
for now.

He was acquitted in a trial
With no witnesses allowed
And no testimony taken
The verdict a foregone conclusion
Even the Mafia couldn’t swing
A Sweetheart deal like that.
ljm

They got you
struggling and sweating
but never ever getting,
what you’re working for,
just regretting
the wasted work weekends
that you could have spent
with family and friends.

Busting your ***
while your boss
busts your chops,

piles of work so high
that even nine nights
of nine hours overtime
can’t catch you up.

So, another day late
while your family waits.
The sunlight is gone before
you even hit the door
to go home again around ten p.m.,
and you came in when
it was still dark and raining
in the very early a.m.

Food and clothes,
restaurants, and shows
vehicle repairs,
health, home,
and car insurance,
college tuition,
then loan repayment,
mortgage, medical debt,
and the bills aren’t done yet.
No money left,
for your late retirement;

What’s the point of
being crushed
under all of that
work stuff
when the pay
doesn’t add up
to enough
to get by
late in life?

Its been a hard time.
Your anxiety is high
and on the rise.
You’re on the verge of
being hot headed enough
to burn all your bridges
and fail all those missions
you’ve been working on.

Slow your roll,
know your soul,
take some self-control,
let it all go,
so you can grow.

Between a rock
and two harder places,
living in crowed spaces
while tensions are growing
patience is going
the way of the dodo.
You and I both know
these smokes stacks
could easily blow.

Slow your roll,
know your soul,
take some self-control,
let it all go,
so you can grow.

Coins in a fountain
won’t get you any wishes.
These mole hills are vicious
and may really be
the jagged edges
of mountains
ready to come crashing down
and smash the ground
you built your
foundations on.

Slow your roll,
know your soul,
take some self-control,
let it all go,
so you can grow.

You may want a little
sugary snack
with a side of
captain jack
and a couple of packs
to smoke
before your heart attacks.
There may still be
some time for all
of that,
sweet surrender
to the tender
pleasures
unhealthy activities render.

But maybe instead
you should turn your head
take a breath,

and slow your roll,
know your soul,
take some self-control,
let it all go,
so you can grow.

This techno toxification
has overridden
the better parts
of my younger heart,

stealing my idealism
and replacing it with
toxic digital *******,

multi-window
varied speed
hi-rez videos
that don’t offer
anything
I really need.

They spike my brain
disrupting it with
excessive hits
of unexpected
dopamine.

Still, I go on
living life in
thirty second
increments.

My attention span
is diminished
while life’s demands
are like poorly planned
skirmishes.

But what this
age of wonders
offers is
access to unlimited
connections
and information.
A way to override
the overlords
of state and business
and connect to people
that we may not know
but could grow with us
and learn to love
compassionately.

I wish I could just make myself into the person you want me to be.
Even though for some reason you keep telling me to be myself.
What if you don’t like her?
What if I don’t like her?
Because the person I’ve known to be me,
I don’t like.
I don’t like how she looks.
I don’t like how she talks.
But, no one hears that.
It’s all in my mind.
If I want change, why don’t I change?
These days it really feels as though I am truly going insane.