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M H Jun 2014
I felt the burn of winter
Those invisible tongues that climb up from below
And suffocate with each exhaled cloud
Appearing for a flash
---a vapor of existence
Extinguished as it swirls in the frosting breeze
And with each, the bite of ice--sinking lustily into my lungs
Striking out a warmth
A cough and a gasp and the flame dies down to embers
And within the ashes I slumber on
Clinging to the last ounces of winter burn
I can walk and not grow weary
And frozen within await the thaw of spring
M H May 2014
What has really changed from every yesterday
With a paper and a title
Suddenly an opinion becomes “expert”
Every word equated to truth
Hours and days and years culminating
Unto a single moment--
But how different from the moments before
When I awakening into the blackness of dawn
Staring out into the depths
And left to wonder if dawn knows it is fleeting

Is any day unlike its’ brother
Does one snapshot of time factor so deeply  
Such that what once was, now refined
Emerges from crucible a new creation?
And I, another actor
A character awaiting the cue to enter stage right
With bright lights shining down
Blurring out the faces of a nameless congregation
Yet buried within the blindness of the flame
The future of another sits within the shadows
Unknowingly relaxed, simply biding time
Waiting for a treatment, a cure, a friend?
And we the equipped
Wade forward,
Cautious of the future, true to past;
Living the present.
M H Apr 2014
Broken glass and lipstick stained butts,
The carpeting of youthful arrogance
Littered across the frozen and snow covered earth
Strewn upon the bleak tundra like a thousand effigies,
The guardians of the ‘treasured’ existence
That thrives within the natural man
Slowly choking life away.
And lungs struggle to catch even the faintest trace of stagnant air
Blue faced, frantic
With flayed arms
Clawing at the walls of conscience
In vain hope to be heard through the blinding haze.
And there, amongst those fettered to the vice of choice,
Stewing within the hopes of the next high
Is the freedom of bad choice.
For what more truly can tighten the shackle of slavery
Than the one who willfully discards
Until all that remains is nothing of the self,
One more piece of waste:
A tenant of the frozen mire
Crunched underfoot
And buried beneath the white
M H Apr 2014
theres a penny on the ground
face down so I cant read the date
but it has been outside my apartment door
for a week and no one has picked it up
and put it in a pocket
to sit and fall out again in the washer
or dryer.
give a penny. take a penny. maybe that’s where it belongs
a tiny cup sitting in some dreary 7/11
but there is always a ****** nickel in those jars.
Outcast.
who needs a penny
chances are if your short the cashier will spot you
so why bend over and pick it up
a quarter sure, a dime maybe, a nickel…
but nobody, nobody gives a toss about a penny.
at least its shiny
until it rains and I have mud on my shoes
then it’ll blend into the warped floor boards
and dingy, frayed carpet
that should have been replaced years ago
so maybe my landlord could use that penny
or he’ll just increase the rent
M H Apr 2014
I am the generation of the now
One liners and snippets of motivational text
The rocket fuel to propel minds into the unknown
With direction serving as an irrelevant afterthought;
Charge full on into the unknown with passion and guns blazing
The formula of operations:
Speak loudly and carry a big stick
=
Scream over and bludgeon opposing views.
Flash and pizzazz the filling substitutes for longevity and wisdom
Trumpet yourself and everyone will take notice
--a catchy jingle and an outrageous stunt
What can be better than being a ***** to advertising?
I want the world, I want it now
Better yet make it yesterday, last week, last year
Nothing will satisfy but everything with a little more on top.
Generation flash has the answers
Printed on neon t-shirts selling for twenty five bucks
Did you get yours yet?

— The End —