The sun does arise
In that aubade way
It spills out over petals
Infinitely
So silent but a discourse:
A camp of brook and pale-freckled
Leaves,
A clamor of engines
Escaping the scene
Too busy, too distant
To actualize their hum.
At the intercession of wood and modern man
I stood dutiful, tenuous,
Apt to standing still
‘Tween what has my calling
And what, my will:
This aesthetic simplicity, resplendent awe
Stays with the punch-card
On my way to work
But I know I’ll stand at the edge
Once more.

this hum drum existence we live
working ourselves to the bone to have the bills paid
clock in, clock out
repeat

sometimes each momemt feels magical,
each one wrapped with infinite possibility

some days, life feels like utter futility
a grind till I get to the leisure or buy the next thing
I am supposed to work myself for

I am a clog in the machine of captilism,
but I know something that makes all this
futile monotony not lead to slow death of my soul

the secret I treasure in my heart is that my worth does not lie
in my production or function.

I have value, because I have the breadth of life flowing in me.
and when my heart connects to the bredth of life in you,
then two hearts transform futility into beauty
I realize for a moment I am not alone,
that a meeting of hearts sparked hope
and transformed each other from dehumanized
objects into persons

Not everyone is born to be happy.
I know this because there are people
Whose lives are torn apart
Day after day, by demons
That live to taste their tears.

Not everyone is born to be beautiful.
I know this because of the futile hours
I spend trying to overcome my poor eyesight
And make myself look pretty
In the bathroom mirror.

Not everyone is born to be loved.
I know this because of the lonely hearts
That call out in the night,
Beating and breaking as they wander
Until their bodies give out.

Apparently it’s official
the search for Mr Right
has been abandoned.

After due consideration -
one ***** Cranberry Tonic
two Manhattans -

There’s nothing left to do
but smoke your last cigarette
outside

line up the Tequila shots
with lemon wedges
and salt

and after two hours
of rigorous hip-like-a-**
Beyonce-****-dancing

to loud Techno repe-ti-tive beat
avoiding all football players
and other women dis-respectors

   accept a ride home
with a halfway decent
Mr Right Now.


                       © M.L.Emmett

I swear some mornings,
I can see the Tv snow Playing
On the back of my Eyelids.
I'm Auto-writing,
on Automatic,
This show comes on at Ten O' Clock
P.M.,
Eastern Standard Time.
I'm early morning only late at night.
Welcomed back into the Static Noise
When the sun comes back around.
This man don't rise with the roosters.
I'll be not a slave to circadian rhythms.


PSSSSHHHHHHHH!!!
An alarming blare
Breaks news in dreamland.
The fields need plowing,
Barbarians are at the gate,
The taxman cometh.
There is work to be done.


Half Lidded I sip
The Proletariat's Breakfast,
As the Stars Gently Fade Into Sunrise.
Transport arrives at twenty past six,
And the trains must always run on time.


look me in the eyes and ask me,
Who am I to be angry?
ungrateful?
Skeptical of the Great Society?
Who are we to be Disenfranchised?
Disengaged?
This work only means bills and coins,
purchasing power,
And another month's rent.
150,000,000 jobs,
buying time between Disasters,
or till the future makes
the majority of us obsolete
To the whims of the elite.


This doesn't even feel like surviving.
In fact,
I feel I'm being farmed.
Domesticated.
I keep daydreaming of
a stone shack in the woods,
limestone pulled up out the earth
by my own bare hands
and stacked into a home.
It's Six twenty-five A.M,
and the bus is always late,
and these in-ear headphones
blocks out the rumbling
of a city waking up for work.


I'm still asleep.
I'll call you tonight...
If we wake up.

Digital in the darkness
I can only think of you
Despite the power I harness
Its something I can't compute.
Your eyes are glowing
when they come into view
making the bits start flowing
into my CPU.
You changed my process
by being so bold;
emotional excess
changed my programming code.
So I guess this is what its like
to love someone,
But I cannot go into the light
It cant be done.
I wish I could lose myself in you
the way you seem to
But the logic sets in
before we're through.
What I'd give
for just one touch
yet I'm not real
and it hurts so much.

King come down
The King come down
There's not a single frown
As the King come down.

The people run just like they die:
With a sudden silence
And a cease of non-existent existence
That ends the accepted fiction.

King come down
The King come down
Not a single frown
Oh, the King come down!

Nine, nine, nine
Two, four, zero
Two and eight
Pause. Wait.

Ignore the grafts.
Don't speak or make sound.
Ignore the grafts.
The King come down.

King come down
The King come down
Your people do not frown
THE KING COME DOWN.

You do not say my name anymore;
It's as if I've dropped off your radar -
The two syllables which form my name
Erased
As though if you don't say it,
I'll cease to exist

You do not call my name anymore;
Although I am ever-present -
I do not intend to
Disappear
Even if you won't say it,
I'll not cease

You do not want me anymore;
And it's there that you have lost -
In order to repel this fickle heart,
You must crave it
With total earnest
And sincere desire.

I lived
a life filled with futility,
where each day faded
into another.

I live
a life filled with moments,
each one humbling me
into sanity.

I will live
a life when I reach out to
others still fading
into oblivion.