I want to write a better world,
but observing it is like trying to hit
a shrinking moving target
that no longer exists.

It is poetic pain exposed
with a wet runny red nose
that tries to sniff this rose
which grows from a puddle of mud and ****
whilst the thorns have scratched and pricked
the thin skin that has not started
to thicken just yet.

It is like having a plastic band in hand
and pulling it cause you plan
to use the tension to hold in
all of the bleeding
that this sick and deceiving
world has caused
but when you pause
the band snaps back
and attacks with fierce pain
causing more blood to drain
then it helps hold in.

It is like punching yourself in the face
to explain the pain of being hit there
realizing quickly no one gives a **** to see
said sad suffering
when there are tons of short videos
that distract all of those
who you long to teach.

It is just maddening.

one cannot help start wondering
about some leaders' meandering
rather than take decisive measures
they pander to their selfish pleasures
claiming they are in full control
and never mind the rising toll
of deaths, infections, unemployed
during the crisis
                              they avoid
acknowledgment of actual danger
instead fan hate, divisiveness and anger
ignore all human suffering
but only aim at buffering
their own political survival

it seems high time for the arrival
of real statesmen who can stall
that deadly downward spiral
and save their nations
     from being driven
full speed into the wall

This is how villains are made,
when the hero is hurt and left
feeling deeply betrayed
by those he was trying to save.

When the world turns astray
as fools and brutes get in cahoots
walking around town to clown,
putting kind hearts down
while they parade
making darkness from
the brighter day
in their crooked cavalcade.

When the world he loves
tends to turn sideways,
and upside down.

When the right to maintain
justice becomes too much of a strain
and he is too tired to explain
why what is right is right
over and over again,

When the heart is red stained
from the pain that inflames
his sense of morality
and he sees no hope for humanity.
  
When he is demonized
for being the nice guy
on this very wrong
planet we live on.

You can see it in his eyes
as all his hope dies
and he either breaks and
succumbs to the lies
or becomes
what he despises.

Give me a piece
of the beast
on which you feast.

Listen closely
and mostly
you will hear
at least one of these
children cry
from hunger,

stomach growling,
while predators are prowling,
and the wolves are howling.

Back home the at risk
sit and wish to be rich,
instead see their
family fall sick,
while praying
god will fix
all of this ****.

We could have been
partners and friends
to all of the children
who have fallen in
the hole we were digging,
struggling
with filth on their chins
as strangers pass by
smug in their disgust.

You know,
the world is broken,
and we allowed it to happen
cause the shiny little tokens
made our monkey minds smile
while rich wolves stole the whole
world.

Welcome to the worse
ending of our human universe,
cause this is the lamest
apocalypse.

While the world is dealing with
a covid pandemic
and corruption that is so systemic
that our president can’t even begin
to hide it,

I am keeping busy by
trying to write
brilliant rays
of inspiration into
this endless night life;
Tired of the long line
of the long blind
stumbling stupidly
far behind,
unable to find a sound mind
among their cult of greed.

My deep dark cynicism
has been building
brand new chasms
that collapse into
whispering despair voids
which need to be exercised regularly,
but all of the gyms are closed.

I know there are truths and perspectives
that sparkle under the surface,
of this world that makes me feel worthless,
things seldom seen unless the poet deems
to share their deep dark beautiful dreams.

But those were the poems I wrote
to warn of the wolves at our throat,
and now I see my lines of predictive poetry
have becomes our pathetic armageddon reality.

I’ve been walking
five or ten
steps out of sync
with all of them;

Just behind
these troubling times
and out of line
I hoped to find
humanity,

observing the disturbing
acts of people hurting
other people,
just to get through to
the good hidden
in plain view.

Light sparklets
spitting from
the light sockets
where poetry
and golden dreams
illuminate
what really makes us great.

But today
hateful claims have cleaved
the heart that longed to be
reprieved from this disease
that greed has infected us with.

My heart longs to be freed
from the sentence we all serve
in our mental penitentiaries,
these imaginary prisons
society has constructed
to keep our good intentions
obstructed.

I’ve been trying to see
all of the human beauty,
handshakes, and hugs,
heartfelt words exchanged because
love and compassion
have become
an instinct
not a well-thought-out reaction.

I don’t think
I can say for sure
if this is truth
or a fiction I use to obscure
how much it hurts
to preach love
and not be heard,
to know the cure
and offer it freely
while people swallow
the very poison
in which they wallow.

So, I might need
a vacation from humanity,
but I wanted to check-in
on all of you
in my poorly written
verses of gentle affections.

This is a business
not a country,
a place for profits
not humanity.

A place where
they won’t bother
to save your starving
baby brother.

A place where
the politicians
don’t care
if your grandma gets ill
and dies
as long as they
are able to save
the stock market.

A place where
the right to life
is how the right fights
against woman’s right
to choose,

A place where
they may give you
a penny or two
to get through
a pandemic,
but they have
unlimited funds
for the fathers,
daughters, and sons
of the corporations
that run America.

This tapestry that we weave,
has slowly started unraveling,
as have these mind made for
socializing and traveling.

We did not evolve to be
such distinct and separate entities,
but we are suddenly diverging,
slowly growing into roses who
were made to wither in a shadow’s glow
and fall into the spiraling slideshow,

becoming miming monkeys
or daylight dream seekers
who long to be truth speakers.

Some wake in tears like me,
others wake in maddening states
of mass shared stained-glass delusions
thinking their stinking leader is great.

While I am longing for love,
they are stewing on rotting plates of hate.

While I am swimming in stars
walking and twirling on space rays,
running the wide night lighted waterways
with my wonky weird word play,

they our devouring tomorrow
by destroying today
with their black hole mouths.

I got waves of rage,
that burn the day
brighter than
an atomic ray.

When I see the face
of the human race
ran through the mud
in the name of
god and greed.

When they plant the seed
of corporate deceit,
getting folks on the street
when they should be
self-quarantined.

When made up
tv doctors say
that’s it okay
to risk the lives
of your children
and wives.

When you need help
but they bailout themselves
and the rest of the
behind the curtain
rich folks who ain’t hurting.

When I choke and spit
in spasmatic fits
because I can’t believe
that this ****
is happening.

No
surprise,
when you reject
or demonize
the nice guys
who try
to be kind
and enrich all lives,

when you despise
altruism
and favor
that nasty flavor
of corruption,

when you
ignore the knowledge
and wisdom
of those who
sought education
over religion,

good men
stop trying.

So, stop crying
about how unfair
it is.
This is the world
that you made.

The battle is lost.
I burnt the body,
but this burden is
built from such shoddy
materials.

I dreamed of something,
more than just a
colored standard that waves
for brave patriots.

But the bullets blazed,
and soft flesh was bathed
in war’s wicked rage.

People were reduced
to ***** dog tags,
and black body bags
while mothers fell to tears.

Their parents thought
their children would be brought
home to cheers.
Instead, they face
what they refused to feel,
not understanding
that this fear was real.