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 Aug 2012 dj
Louis Brown
There once was a candidate Ryan
The right wing see in him their lion
This nemesis to our healthcare
Paul only fights for good wealthcare

He voted with Bush to disaster
The economy never fell faster
Wee is his knowledge of foreign affairs
If he gets the job we'll need daily prayers

A bad Catholic some blogs call him
Some hope pestilences befall him
Many think he's no wiser than Palin
That could cause Mitt Romney's failing

He'll hurt poor folks; he'll hurt the middle
We'll starve as old Mitt plays the fiddle
So it would be better to vote not at all
Than choose young Attila, this candidate Paul
 Aug 2012 dj
spysgrandson
2038--neurolotto

You SEE
sometime
in years yet seen
science
will make
our bodies last longer
a decade or more
but questionable advances
will allow
our BRAINS to live
for…millennia
or longer
submerged in
a neuro-friendly elixir
connected to
electric eyes and ears
freed from
frothing fears
about our body’s
dutiful decay
BUT even with infinite leaps
in scientific skill
and our relentless will
(to be around for eternity)
only a few will have the means ($$$$$)
for such magic cyber machines
and joyful juices
to keep them THINKing
10,000 years or more!
So, the powers that be
will have a grand lottery
though millions will apply
(while 10 billion others know their own brains will die)
only a few thousand will have the privilege
of having their few pounds of cranial fat
placed in a perpetually guarded vat
for helpless these brains would be (!)
if they were left at the mercy
of those who could not pay
to extend their time to play
on this rolling rock
What things they will get to see
floating in the magic juice (!!)
But…walks in the park
will be only a waking dream,
thinking about cheeseburgers
will be calorie free,
for the sense of smell and taste
will, of course, be history
music will sound a bit…strange
for the best implants
won’t replace the old ear
a passionate kiss
and the a n t i c i p a t e d bliss
of more
will be a sweet (??) memory
a “sweet” memory…?
Or just a memory
for when freed of the flesh
can sense and soul still mesh?
Can THINKing
we are FEELing
suffice?
and will we really
savor the cyber sight
or cringe in FRIGHT
of round spaghetti *****
floating in other preciously guarded vats
that we KNOW
are our only bodiless friends?
written for fun in 2011, but one of the readers said it was frightening...all in the eye of the beholder I suspect
 Aug 2012 dj
Wuji
Old Home
 Aug 2012 dj
Wuji
Today I go to my past,
With a smile and sharp sword.
I'll walk the walk,
That I have walked a million times before.
Looking as always in awe,
At the light shining through the tress.
This time I'll enter alone,
And alone I will leave.

Wasn't long ago,
When I felt this was my home.
But now I am a stranger,
So now I roam.

I'm a visitor,
I hope I don't see her.

Ruining my old home.
I am excited.
I woke up today,
realizing
that if I hadn't
gone to psychiatrists,
and studied religion,
and worked hard
for many years
at Zen,
that I probably
would have been
one of those guys
who gets a gun
and shoots a lot of people
and then turns it
on himself
and blows his brains out,
because I think
that I have lived
a hundred lifetimes
before this one
as a victim of torture
and therefore
was pushed to the limit,
but instead of becoming
a suicidal ******-murderer,
I became
some sort of
love, peace and happiness
Bodhisattva,
so instead of criticizing Zen
and psychiatry,
like I usually do,
I'm praising them.
 Aug 2012 dj
Sean Kassab
The old man climbs slowly out of his bed upon the horizon and filters in through the gaps of the blinds in the kitchen window. He comes to greet me each morning to the smell of brewing coffee and burning toast. He never says much, never asks for much, and yet he says everything I need to hear at that moment. He watches me as I stir in my milk and sugar, smear on a little butter, and take a bite of breaking day…

Good morning my old friend…sure is good to see you again.
 Aug 2012 dj
JL
Special K
 Aug 2012 dj
JL
I am sick  
Not even the dogs fighting and playing
Gets me laughing anymore
I'm a slave to each breath
Controling each inhale
My hands with cuts on the fingers
The wind blows outside
But its quiet and I'm warm

Each bass line is a nuclear meltdown
Your lyrics come straight from the back of
pill bottles

It's a dream
Wide awake
The soft ache
At the base of my skull
And the point of light
Just a lamp to the right
Glows like the sun in my room
I shut it off
And lie in the dark

I listen to the shifting of the wind outside
And repeat Bible verses
As easy as reading them from the page
Theyre all the rage when I'm losing my mind
The last little bit of mind I have left
I recite First Kings under my breath
David Bowie threw me to space
And now its a race against time
A race against life
To see how long it will take me to lose my mind
I admit I have a problem
Called being bored as ****
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