Leave what’s LEFT behind
Till you’re found RIGHT there
LEFT RIGHT there
LEFT RIGHT there

WHEN I WAS BORN MY DADDY LEFT! left, right, left.
LATER ON MY MOMMA LEFT! left, right, left.

I was LEFT RIGHT behind
left, right, left

Imbalanced at heart
So often I press restart
but nothings starting over,
I'm just pushing myself back

There's so much I lack.
I'll stay in old habits,
So I don't have to face it;
My avoidance.

Even when I try to be right,
I'm still wrong.
My last finger is slipping from the dogs tail,
Will she turn around and bite me or disappear?

I sit and wait to see the ending,
But it never comes.
The globe keeps spinning
And time moves on, leaving me unwinding.

Spit on the ground,
And raise your ******* in the air.
Those things they have
Told you not to do
Out of respect.
Respect, the base too is self-evident;
But men let it rise up in their heads
To control every thought and emotion.
If they do not respect others,
If their values are in balloons
Leaking hot air,
Beliefs in the wind
Those who are not attached, but not free.
Let no man change any other,
Who himself refuses change.
Those that cannot admit wrongs,
Learn from nothing.

It is not the church
In your local town
That I speak of
In tones reminiscent of hate
It is not those in the pews
My friends, my family.
It's the mega churches
The great mosques and temples
The captured Vatican
The misguided Judea
The estranged Muslims
Who breed religions of hate
Of divisiveness for its own sake
Room it leaves
To take power, and secure control
By the most vile actors
Those who wear a kind face like a mask
The fake walk admist us
Have faith, abandon religion
But never God
**** your bias, with what will is bestowed
Tender your strength for
Hard times are to come
The faults of weak men
Who could not stomach one another

But to your point, and the larger issue, is
How do you convince people
Who have no interest in politics, and
Believe they are doing just fine?
Because the repercussions haven’t reached them yet,
Letting other folks run the show.
People need to genuinely care and
Believe it is possible & meaningful as well,
Or they will participate only in apathy or whatever.

Be painfully optimistic, fall on your own sword, argue for the right by strengthing the wrong to others
People will come to the right decision on their own

You’re right—
I’m just making excuses.
Why am I so 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥
All of the time?

“You get more sleep
Than 99 percent
Of your friends,”
You said.

So doesn’t that mean
I am supposed to be
Happy?

“Be happy,”
I say to myself
In my head.

I am supposed to be
Fine.

But I am not,
And all I have left
Is excuses.

And yet,
Why do I look for more?

I want somebody
To tell me
That you are not right.

But I know you are.

This and my next two posts are in reverse creation order,
this is the last panel in a tryptic of three novel scenes.
------------ this was Feb, 22, 2024

Used to be, as we were
used to become, repeatedly,

time sensitives using time
as using any used concept, used
by users
to bring use to usefullness, in time.

As we are used, our complexities
crease our faces with wrinkles
we use to make smiles.

------------------

Thousands, now millions,
then billions and trillions, too much,
unhoned use, dull use, dishonest use

-busy work to earn right to life
-breathe,
-hard parts's over, let it roll....

so we stop counting hours per dollar
and marvel at the cost of being
obligated to share the debt,
owed gravity,
giving minutes where seconds are plenty,
about a dollar each…
converted on the exchange
in  second thoughts.

------------------

Right use,
righteous, right.

The ideal right. Never wrong.

Like sunshine, or stars…

and gravity, and contravening winds,
laws of temperature
and pressure, pre judged within tolerance
too minute to contemplate, indeed,

as with the inner working of everything,
once done, duration makes no sense,

to mortal sensibilities, our assisting intell
sources leak inside information, gut level

response to provocation, my vocation
manifests, yes, blurts

stop.
This is insanity, and I smile to myself,
aware,
I aimed at totally insane, and hit it,

on the spot, nailed it where up and down
cross left and right, there it was,

or is, more precisely, insanity. Stopped.

My self imposed duty done. I stopped it.

I am the monkey wrench. For a second.
Must mean...
-------------------
...
my tools include
sentient wrenches,
sentient plumber tools,
used artistically as the
monkey wrench
in the works
with an Iberian,
artist at café, in tiny
John Lennon glasses,
callouses on his *******...
real deal, pre Adobe Illustrator
whose pen and inks I think I saw,

but in another course through time,

historicity, in fact, is a material invention,
a feminine fullfilled mind's inspiration,

we exist in no time at all, from historical
perspectives exalted to points of view,

from which opinions as to how worth is
weight of something, relative to another.
Balance life in time on instants
in prayer, faith, step taken
instants thanking nexting
step by step, expecting next time….

Worth of a minute spent thinking second
thoughts used as tools, slight smile, soft aha,

leverage our speculation,
ask who has nothing
to do for days on end, but the wealthy good

among the commoner sorts and types and classes.

Weal and woe, both, we believe lack

recipes to fix broken promises to child prayers.

Blessedness declared, nationally.
Given in the ritual,
alright alrise, alrecite, I pledge…
--we did
yes, to ****, at the will of my commander,
and I understand my link to the chain,
--we
brains hardwired from childhood
to handle a pen,
experience ambidexterity while qwerty keying,
left and right,
order and beauty click, feel
minds combined.

We am I, and I am alone,
then I think of you, and now, and this device,

this magic pen, silly me,
anachronisms are my weakness.

We are the monkey wrench.