I was told
that a digital code
could release
great wisdom
and give men
a chance to get in
an education
that serves them
because no one
really fits in
with ancient traditions.

Technology holds
powers untold,
a chance to network,
and not be obsessed
with our net worth,
to see the rebirth
of humanity's goodness;

That we could collect
and distribute
science's tribute
to mankind's evolution,
make life a grand revolution
that prioritizes
truth over
outrageous lies
that corrupt guys
keep spreading.

I failed and my penance is
to visit this sick monument
to our shared statues of despair.

I cared and tried to explain
how we share pains
but my explanations
were made in vain.

I raged against
greed and violence,
tried to craft the most cogent
arguments to prop up love
over hate and ignorance.

I survived
and my reward
was to live for a lost cause,
cuz I wasn't good enough
to get through
to all of you.

Now, I weep for all the youth
who will never get to try,
never be born so they can never die.

It’s so frustrating,
what I’m watching,
seeing the hedonist
mealy mouth misogynists
getting up in all of this
social madness,
elevating and celebrating
America making a great end
when it's a hate trend
that's been a revolting revolving door
going out and back in again,
cuz it's making wealthy men
and politicians more money
whilst making plenty other citizens
edge towards revolutionary wars.

There is sorrow in seeing
strangers weeping and bleeding,
people on the streets needing
a little respect and compassion,
but the cops keep blasting.
While the media is gaslighting,
the whole scenario’s so sick
that I can hardly fathom it.

So, I am using poetry
to process all the horrors I see,
using extreme means
to cut my thin seams,
while deconstructing
the blockage obstructing
humans from grasping
what it means for
a black mother to be gasping
trying to bring back the air
that someone stole from
her first-born son.

Police profiling then rewriting history,
has me on the verge of vomiting
in rage and nausea,
so tired of trying to explain
the validity of a stranger’s pain,
knowing these people
are just as worthy
of the justice America serves me,
as corporations go on
greedily slurping
all of our resources.

My privilege is to see
a blue shirt and not think
that they are watching
and following me,
to not worry if I hurry
cops might think
it’s justifiable to shoot me
in my back
because I’m black.
I don’t have to experience
or understand any of that.

As strange as it may be
to study the history
etched on the faces
of all those grieving,
to feel the shame
of not enough people believing
in what they are seeing;

Having the hand that points to the ground
be the one that forces them down
pushes their face in the dirt,
kicks them when their immobilized,
then goes on to demonize, telling lies
about how they were **** like.

The powerful keep trying to create
then put people in that fake place
that the wealthy claims their race makes
it inevitable that they will go to,
while the rich keep on insisting
that the state is and has always been great,
but it’s time to make it great again.

I'm nauseous,
ready to *****
on these creeps
that caused such violence;

Tired of trying to solve it
cause the rubrics
of this cube
have multiplied stupid
times all of those who
follow the hollow
Cheshire moon smile
for miles and miles.

The media splits mobs
into mediocre redhatter's
screaming all lives matter
as they charged the capital.

It is in the past but
idiotic patriotic treasonous
fools who are reasonless
keep trying to whitewash
the **** we all saw,
makes me real raw,
want to gnaw off
my own arm
and runaway
from the harm
these buffoons caused,
trying to prop up
a lost cause.

Sometimes,
I sit and wonder
is my brain wired
in the wrong way.

I'm working all day
on weird word play,
using premium unleaded
instead of the previously embedded
stinking repeated
cliches no one needed.

Watered down con artists
feed men
outdated whines,
have them *******
diluted delusions
and fractured facts
that don't add
up to good math.

I'm not a beast that beats
better techniques.
I’m the man who eats
whatever he reads
to replete my muse’s muscles
with the protein she needs
along with her emotional greens,
and random natural fruity scenes,

but there are not enough nutrients
to save me from the atrophy of
humanity’s inability to grow and love.

It's the same high stakes
bootstrap narrative that takes
a creative license with
the stories of people that really exist.

It's a biopic,
a fictionalized
version of some real lives
told with real lies.
Till we realize,
we need clear eyes
unclouded by corporate lies
to understand what lies
behind the underhand
and reveal how humans
actually expand
their consciousness.

Oh, how I wish
my tears
would steer clear
of the fear that
lives here.

I am tired
of the hate
that is inspired
by the spiral
of bad faith
actors working
in accord
with each other
to enhance
the discord
that smothers
compassion.

I am exhausted
from passing
my passion
from within
to my pen,
from my mind
to my computer
and pasting
pieces of poetry
on social media
sites
that profit from
greed and destruction
in the form of
views and ads.

It all feels bad,
and I would be glad
to grab
a long nap
and never have to
rise and see
the violent spree
of soldiers killing
civilians,
while the state claims
that these children’s
suffering is justifiable,
that these horrors
are deniable,
that these lies are viable,
going viral, and capable
of making some lives
less valuable.

I curse the craven curs
who perpetuate hate,
ignorance, and redundancy,
while I personally long
for likeminded poets
who expose the struggles of
the questioning dispositions
which leads to depressing positions
of uncertainty,
because that eventually leads
to the new ideals we need
to improve our society.

When dying won't save a life,
or change your mind
and direct it
towards what you expected
would be right.

When marching and protesting
doesn't turn night to day,
make wrongs less black and gray
as all those shades
fade to red blades
that hew through
innocent hearts seeking the truth.

There is no change,
cuz the powerful
want to keep playing
the same game.

How many times
can we all explain
until in pain
our shoulders slump
from the strain of the gravity
of everything we've been trying
to hold up and make better,
and we collapse into black holes,
falling just in time to float away like ashes
flying from a holocaust furnace,
as remnants of the worst tragedies
that we never learned from?

I want justice,
trying to fight against
the violence
of greedy politicians,
but instead of righteous
they give us the virus
of injustice,
promote the imbalance
of crime versus punishment.
Oppression is persistent
despite the insistent activists
who are resisting the ignorance
the rich keeps creating.

I want goodness
not in the abstract,
future, or way back past,
but right now
because there is
no reason for waiting.
The time for debating
has long since passed
and if you have to ask
don't bother just act.

Empathy equals truth and compassion
multiplied by action
and brings a better world.

I want justice but not the kind
lazy men claim to serve,
then swerve
to spin a fiction that prevents it.

I am the awkward
steward of my own stupid being,
pushing forwards
towards the shore,
not asking for
much more or
looking for
a reward,
just searching for
something to explore;

With A jealousy enveloping me
because I believe
so many things can be better,
yet the fog of complacency
hinders our society
as humanity drunkenly stumbles
towards chaos and a self-inflicted extinction
as we are all soon to be
evicted from our planet side life.

These four walls
are not made
to save
but built
to blockade
and enslave.

This cave
we engrave
with our strange
collecting ways,
soon becomes a
self-selected grave
for our histories
and all of our
distorted memories.