Dear God,
I can't.
I can't love one another as you have loved me,
because it feels as though you've neglected me.
Dear God,
How can I love people
when all they do is hurt other people?
Dear God,
how can hate be a sin when all there is in the word is hate?
How can I follow you if all I do is hate the people that hurt the innocent?
Dear God,
How could you possibly let the world get like this?
The last time this happened, you told Noah to build an arc and wiped out your last mistakes.
Dear God,
Why wont you help us?
Please help us.

Our world shouldn't exist anymore.

Conflicts explode into intolerable scenarios,
Inciting a need for any solution.

Each time justice goes unserved,
We tend to generate vengeance as a remedy.

Whenever life becomes too unbearable,
We can experiment with artificial happiness.

Struggles in the real world are brutal,
But we can’t fix harm by causing harm.

Battling confrontation requires reasoning,
Using logic to conquer unwanted circumstances.

I have love
I have pieces,
Certain segments that fell apart
Not from within this heart.
It is the trees that seem to die

Branches breaking, flaking sounds
Vacant mind, open, vulnerable
A feast for hounds
I whisper aloud
Help is to come from above a cloud

I am here
A broken ship
Certain parts of debris
Extracted from my knee
Explains the function of my mind

Foggy waters, rocky shores
Weak, potent, lost
I lost my head before
I think aloud
Whether he is still proud

Sometimes your mind can be a prison or an inferno

In search of the magical falls I left
The falls that washes away our dirty past
No falls did I see, for I got stuck
Stuck in a dimension, not for humans
There's no one here and no way out
With the memories of my past crushing me
I sit here crying, unable to speak or move
With the little strength I have, I ask for death
For death is a blessing in a place so dark
It's death I want, for death is freedom
It's death I want, for it hurts too much
I sit here helpless and crying, waiting for death.

One thousand things overseen,
How many reds, I could plead,
Pilgrims growing, envy green,
Corruption, a solemn creed,

Time ticking forever more,
Ringing temptation, hearts burned,
Bow to see what never saw,
What couldn’t see, devils heard,

Scented breeze far asunder,
Sacred bliss, ashes, lumber,
A fog is brewing, thunder,
A child yet stirred amidst slumber,

The apples grow, bitter sweet,
Flavour but a memory,
Now apart, but yet to meet,
All but joy in jeopardy,

Close now, nearing collision,
Embraced by shock, near contact,
Fall and focus my vision,
Reborn with young cognition.

When success is present through fortune,
It’s easy for us to ease the fighting.

Battling less while glory is achieved,
Maintaining greatness after a long war.

Misery is usually in a brutal dispute,
Shedding blood and tears for progress.

Anguish is trying to win,
Attempting to earn that chance.

Whenever goals are acquired,
Never forgot the road that was traveled.

In the moment of present day bliss,
We wonder if the next day will still offer wealth,
Hoping that tomorrow can still possess gold.

The journey to good fortune is an unpredictable path,
Like rolling dice in a game of chance.

The future holds no guarantees,
Leaving tomorrow a mystified puzzle.

Forget about the mystery of the unknown,
Instead, move with the currents of the ocean,
Continuing in stride with each flow.

Humanity emphasizes a need for titles,
Stressing highlights of one’s abilities.

Bragging rights are sparked by struggles,
Fighting barriers to earn the prize.

Just because a person lacks an award,
Talent can still exist with its potential to shine.

Individuals don’t need a degree to claim intelligence,
People don’t have to earn a trophy to proclaim athletic strength.

Having your name on a centerpiece is valuable,
But being happy with your capabilities is priceless.

A reproof of scarlet riviera  
darken its seance that acclaim unforetold entrance
of lactose hence virtual lecture,
edifice with preponderance in guidance if hesitation
ready hinders them entertained by inordinate sex and
whether garish is gruesome for glutenesque and
intricately hard to maintain as their distraction is subliminal
that pain is debilitating and overwhelming in modern lifestyle.

Don Rambus Apr 15

When I was three years old,
I came face-to-face with Allen Ginsberg for the very first time.

I hated him.

In my own little three-year-old way,
I thought he was a mean, rude, nasty, ornery old son of a bitch.
But when I turned twenty, I learned the truth:
He was a fearless, bold, no bullshit old son of a bitch--- he wasn't the only one.

The world wasn't meant to be seen through rose-colored glasses,
but to be witnessed on our feet in the present and off our lazy asses.

Mankind was meant to live and die
in an adventure, seeking peace through trials of wrong and right,
not to bask in a stagnant bath, nor stop in the midst of a path
to a future bright, though out of sight,
for this is no way to thrive,
but to live and die a treacherous lie.

Here in the first world, we are afraid to suffer,
but eager to kill,
to conquer,
to ignore internal issues.
[Pay no mind to the men behind the curtain, the have their own agendas, and we allowed this--- we voted them in!]
We are afraid to be wrong,
but fearless to fight
a battle with no true end in sight.
We will never fix the problem,
nor repair the damage we create,
if we all just sit on down,
grab our egos and masturbate---
[Spoiler Alert:
There will be no orgasm, no explosions of mental cum, no parade, just bullshit, horseshit, and all the other shit that comes along when we bite off more than we can chew and still force it through our systems;
blow it out your asses and let's get a move on,
we've got things to do and places to be!]

We talk in circles,
we talk of change,
we talk making a difference,
we talk in circles...
see what I'm say'n'?

Politicians are a sham,
Real people lose the race, whether slow and steady, or fastly-paced,
so they butt out of it all,
as they had no business running in the first place.

We the people are dis-

organized
and dYsFU[ckIng fu]nctIonal;
all too lazy to gang up and be the CHANGE we seek,
so we
file
in
line
and fight over our spots to sit in a seat on a ship sailing its way south
d
o
w
n
Shit's-fuckin'-Creek.

In twenty--- hell, thirty, forty, fifty years,
we've made little progress,
but we've got iPhones and Wi-Fi, and people going to Mars,
We've got technology never before imagined standard in our cars!
Now, ain't that just swell,
ain't that spectacular?
We're all going to hell
for sucking our own blood from our own dicks like an auto-fellating, narcissistical Dracular.

What do we do? Where do we go from here?

If Ginsberg, Bukowski, Poe, Dante, Plato, Socrates, Freud, Hitler, Christ, Caesar, Shakespeare, Lincoln, Lee, Brooks[1], Miller[2], my parents, Mr. Pete Rose, Franklin, all my friends, and a million other folks taught me anything,
it's that we're all bastards,
we're all sinners,
we're all losers, occasional winners,
we're all assholes,
we're all wrong, though sometimes right,
we all live,
we all die,
we've all got shit going on in our lives---
and what I've learned from all this,
was that I can do better,
YOU can do better,
we can ALL do better than we are doing right now,
that we are each unique, but we are no different from one another, we are human beings;
we can learn and teach, and we must do this always,
from day, through night and to each and ever other day.
But the most important lesson above all:
Don't be such a prick, whatever you DO do,
simply try to understand,
for all the world's fate is in our own
feeble, but hopefully growing hands.

[1]--refers to Mel Brooks
[2]--refers to Arthur Miller
Next page