How nice it would be
if all Beauty was free and homesteads
were home to all
no honking horns or voice raised issuing rampant scorns
to pass unfiltered through the innocent ears of children
but then again... nothing is perfect except for..
. maybe thunder
for it is the loud,  proud voice of perfection
rolling or booming never assuming to be what it is not
like the voice of God
As it was described in those scriptures told
in the verses of old
so with each clap
Of lightning created sound
we either jump or smile
As we know it brings
A needed refrain
of nourishing rain

there is nothing sweeter than
walking in the rain
of autumn
for the leaves paint
the ground all around and happiness abounds
it's a promise of relaxing winter husband starting fires both of heat and desires
While mother share secrets with daughters both shoulds and  not aughters  ha!
But such is the way it has been
from time immortals very beginning
and should continue to be
as long as....
God's Great Earth keeps on spinning !

What comes from those meandering thoughts
those sinister plots
that circumvent
all the effort that had been spent
creating naught but verbal rot
and  seditious dissent
bought
by consistent repetition
of thoughts never spoken
and statements never meant
of pressures applied
until all reason is bent
what forces the changing courses
of rivers, realities and those minds....when
 allowing up to define down
or out to equate in
such are the vagaries
plaguing the World As We Know It
yet we seem to descend
into the deepest..... darkest...
.... season of treason
our history has yet to record
no one has the wealth
or knowledge to ever afford
what it would cost
to buy back all that's lost
if all that exists
becomes Lost In The Mists
of times Eternal March
and we become the total sum
of nothing more than some hollow-core
experiment
that came and went
from grand and great
to an untimely fate
by so many who denied
that truth is self-evident
letting those who lied
. decide
what truth is or isn't ...
..to be accepted
and to be applied
when alternate facts are nonexistent
yet absolute
once they take root
Allowed to grow out of control
destroying the very foundation
that supported what started out
as ...
history and humanities
greatest creation.

,, when I find no ground
Beneath my feet
I know that I am
Totally incomplete
So I hover here
Invisible-  to everyone
Even to myself I know
So I can't decide what to do
Or which way to go
Because there is…
... No direction
When everything looks the same
Can't be lost
Can't be found
I can not open up
You cannot shut me down
I can't find my way back
Or even move ahead
Can't remember the last thing I heard
Or the last thing that I said

There's no religion
No mantras echoing in my head
way down deep inside
Not even a buzzing sound
To remind me that I'm alive
No places to run away from
Or even to run to

No answers to the questions
That I don't even have
No place I need to be
Or distances I need to go
No guiding hand to lead me
Along the invisible Trail
No cheering crowds ...
…...encouraging me to win
Nothing to measure…
… the degree to which I fail

I live in limbo
Suspended in a warp of time
As erratic as I am static
Getting further and further
away from what
Once I was supposed to be
Even though I really know
I'm a million little pieces of me
Moving at the speed of light

, even though I really know
That I am here suspended
In this uncomfortable chair
So long now I have
hovered here
Can't feel my body
Can't feel my legs
Everything has gone to sleep
, Eyes Wide Open as I
Fall into the deep
Burning down and I'm burning out
Like a lit and derelict cigarette
As I keep  scattering little pieces of me
All over the world…
... By way of the internet

I am totally incomplete!

Wander along
The adoration passageways
Too long
Glowing in the light
Of ones own measure of success
You may feel....as if
You can soar like the eagle

But that may lead
To an ego deflation
A deficiency in value
From black to red
So no matter what
validations of admiration
You may receive
no evaluation
Will ever make dirt
Taste like a custard pie

So... Go easy
And believe in
your value to evaluate yourself
And then you... Will...
... Never get hurt
when dirt... Always
tastes like dirt!

I listen to the coiled out words
Of the viper-tongued miscreants
Placating the willing to walk along
In Involuntary servitude as in a trance
Zombies of the evil spells that liars spin
Where sparks of dissent are overwhelmed
       deep deep down
in those murky depths of the swampland
By those willing ...robed in anonymity ...
      ...  tasked with the responsibility.
..of burning down ....the entire world
    if we all ....don't accede
     To their will....
....obeying all things they do demand.

The news of late
Seems to amply relate
The quandary...
... so many wrestle with
In fixated perspicacious denial
Of just what happiness means
Serenity.... Viability ?
Financial security...solvency?

While what matters goes unsolved
Because we are ...so involved
In seeing only the success
They express....not the stress
They repress for us..
..the adoring public...

Caught up in our thinking
That we wish we were them.
Perfection in the reflection
Of the lucky ones who have it made.

So why do so many...
...take themselves out
When they could have stayed?

I do wonder...where we all would fall
Were we to seem to have it all
The life that they attain ..that persona
they maintain
That no one...it seems  
can really see beyond
It too often doesn't dawn
Upon...me

To notice the human strain ...
....the common pain, that we see
so easily in each other.
I never saw it and I am so sorry...
And will miss you, Anthony Bourdain.
Farewell..Brother.
May you rest in peace .