I’ll give you undeserved second chances
I’ll give you my tears when you give me yours
I’ll be the one happy for your victories
I’ll be the one grateful for your scars
I’ll let you set the pace
I’ll let you know if anything changes
I’ll make you a believer
I’ll make better mistakes tomorrow
You’ll want me on your team

God gave us the stars to shoot for
so we would have ***** other
than our sister or brother
eager to reach the shooting range we slammed the shuttle door
on our captain’s silver crown
in a sea spilling from His ichor
sack punctured by our hubris we drown-
memes and cat videos worth dying for

We set fire to the shuttle
gasp as our air begins to leave
Amazon(s) choose to scuttle
trees land and humans need to breathe
a musk most putrid rises as we cannibalize our space ex
who’s so far gone as to not come back
her zombie bridezilla tirade wrecks  
our plan it removes futures from the trajectory track

God gave us the stars to shoot for
so we reduced our target to soot
we revelled in our high score
not feeling the pain in our shot foot
and the cats still in secret revery dance their funny jig
sardonic wit stuffed still in every blank screen -small or large-
on the skeleton of our ghastly ghost space rig
reduced to rubble by a friendly depth charge.

God gave us the stars to shoot for
it was we who chose to use a gun
we chose to ram through the door
not checking if it was open
God gave us the stars to shoot for
leaving the details for us to decide
rockets to be built to make war or explore
as shuttlecraft for a human slingshot ride
an arching advance into the beauties of
our Creator made for us to enjoy in love
~
NM
08/25/19

In an ideal
joy-and-happiness-society
would we work
at an optimal
joy-and-happiness
pace?

Bird with serrated leather jacket collar
When you sip that drink and hit yourself with a mauler
Drop a sigh, with your eyes toward the sky
but don’t fly,
it’s alright to sit low, cry, stay back home in July,
and just standby.
There is no need to commodify

You’re not a lousy fly stuck in a rut
nor a feather helplessly swinging into dirt
You’re a singer singing each note
with your unbuttoned white shirt
and a chain of daisies around your throat

And remember the melodies your senses wrote?
There are places you will go,
when you follow the lilts in your heart’s own flow,
and when into resonance the murmur grows,
there can be no better show
there can be no better show

Days, places, and history I'll never forget
Times, paces, and the closest I can ever get
No matter how many faces I see everyday
Yours is the one I want to bury in my chest

Get to the Market

Some people take the back road
Others use the highway
Some arrive early
Some arrive late

Get the market

We all follow our own way
No persuasion
No need to jump a red light
A river will flow where it flows
Carve its own way

Get to the market

Some exhilarate
Others doddle along the way
Walk or run
You will arrive when you get there

Get to the market

Lost in space
I find my mind racing
Chasing what parts I can still assemble
It resembles a time a while ago
When my days were in disarray and I searched for a way to find where I needed to go
So I stayed below the radar but some how not low enough and it was tough for me to be the center of attention
Especially when it was so negatively directed at me
My brains still races and retraces the thoughts places and faces that got me where I am
But **** does it hurt some times
They’ve committed no crimes against me or the law but when I think of some of the things said my jaw still falls and the drops from my eyes still stall in empty space
These thoughts reside only in empty space
So why do they hurt so much and cause my exhausted heart to pace