I am not a monster. My veins are the same purplish hue as yours. Pricked by the same needle, an arrow can penetrate my body, soul escaping my still-beating heart.
I cling to your words. I want to know your soul, your deepest insecurities, the smallest bits of joy. I want to be in love.
The universe is a gallery, each star a mosaic of art, colliding and combining to create beauty; a masterpiece; you. I could look at you for eons.
I am not to be perceived by capitalistic powerhouses. Life is not a final boss, requiring each day to serve as a minigame, collecting coins and jumping blocks until I reach the Bowzer.
I live for myself, the sole goal of collecting knowledge and seeing stars until my final breath, at which I can say my life felt complete once I knew that every single person I met had smiled.
I will not live by checking boxes off a form, stats gathered frequently on if I’m living it right. Because there is no right.
There are only idealistic fantasies that maybe if I run fast enough, I could one day hope to reach. There is the rustic murkiness of yesteryear attempting to ****** its claws on my soul. It will not win.
This game of mine may not be multiplayer, nor do I have the cheat codes, but I am having fun, I am exploring the world, and I will not listen— never listen—to you saying that I am playing it wrong.
"If I held myself to my resolutions, I would be twice ahead of the pack. Yet I find myself, perhaps unsurprisingly, bending the rules." and now I think to myself that I too am in the same predicament. and so I say, "What lofty goals of this world or the next do you aspire to? Those we share, we can accomplish together." And in the spoken language of prophets you replied: "let the shepherds of goodness upon the earth guide the hand of the ignoble, so that, in their ignorance, they may be of service to the light." But I hesitated; there was the smell of money on his breath... "Why not share our light across the channel we hold now to all brothers and sisters in need of light to shine from their eyes?"
The most valuable resource in the world is illumination.
A billion dollars I have gathered That’s the billionaire’s way The bit that I’ve earned a tiny fraction of that (only so many hours in a day) Instead of hard work I work around rules that once described the way that one who worked hard spending effort and hours could secure that hard day’s worth of pay
Many have struggled to build the wealth I’ve now juggled into shelters and holdings and banks I could carelessly burn it ‘cause I didn’t earn it But those who did, I guess, deserve thanks
Life's been wasted Thrown out for cash Abrasion o' justice The rich hide the rash
A human life, $7.25 an hour.
This poem was inspired by the song "Calm Like A Bomb" by Rage Against The Machine. Specifically the line "A ditch full of bodies, and a check for the rent" really hit homes. In the middle of a pandemic, many people dying, many people laid off, and many people got evicted to live on the streets. To spread the disease. To spread captisalism. Socialism is the vaccine.
Crisp, refreshing mint juleps When I finish planting these tulips
Owning a house is dream A capitalist scheme
Millennial bravado When you choose avocado
My soon to be husband and I are looking into buying a cheep house in Utah. Wish us luck. There have been and continues to be many hoops to jump through. He mentions how it feels like an out, if we some how manage to become home owners. "Rent" will become cut in half and spread a little further. F*ck Capitalism! It keeps the poor-poor and the rich even richer.