He stands there hurting
But refuses to cry out.
Life goes by,
But I look up.

He can’t stand anymore
But says sleep was a stranger.
Life smiles along,
But I can’t go on.

He never sleeps
But claims it isn’t that bad.
Life says he is introverted,
But I make conversation.

He pushes and receives injury
But says he can play.
Life agrees and hands him a ball,
But I give him a worried look.

He won’t tell me anything
I don’t know how to get the truth.
Life won’t let him be
And I can only be for him.

Humankind
Look about you; and what do you see?
A group of people like you and me.

Some are fat and some are thin
All are just covered in a layer of skin

Shall we go deeper into the flesh?
Take a look at what they possess.

Anatomically defined, humankind
Mankind intertwined, designed thus, us

Are we good are we bad?
Do we want all that we have?

Do we need or is it greed?
When we proceed to overfeed

Unrestrained indifference to consumerism
Leaves us open to malfeasance, and our skin wrinkles.

But fear not, the answer is to be found in a ***!
Only £€$¥ 9.99 and that wrinkle is smoothed.

So, buy today and it will go away.
And all of us will one day die and turn to dust.

And all we buy will fade and rust
And love will never be enough

Did you know our lives resemble Chess?
that in  all decisions
right from the start
you need to think ahead
about the choices being made
about who it is going to affect
because it ain't just you
choosing to sacrifice what you want to do
to help others...
or not
willing to change plans at the last minute
because of a
cancellation
a death
not everything goes our way
sometimes we need to make
small moves
simple
sometimes we need to switch it up a bit
ride the horse
take a breather
I mean time isn't really on our side
you see each second that passes by
is then one minute
one move
one choice
closer to death
sometimes
when you think you have won
you find yourself stalling
going back and forth going anyway you can
till you just have to face your moves
head on
and let go
to bad we only have
one chance to live
so make all your moves count
for you never know when your
last
breath
will
be

Can It Be?

Can it be that we
No longer have to worry,
Be concerned about IQ and such,
It not much longer meaning much
When something’s to be learned?

Can it be we do not need those centers
To adapt and enter
Higher states,
Taking in non-useful crates
Of knowledge and/or information.

Wouldn’t that be lovely…
Days that don’t demand the shove
Of knowledge from an app
To make you happy?

Synapse, axon, neuron:
Hordes of intricate connections
Just to reach a level new;
Some new standard, some new status
You consider you.

Well, it seems that they’ve discovered
What you probably knew all the time:
You only need a darned few dendrites,
Through the days and nights
Of facts and figures all around;
Surrounding signals chemical/electric
To slow down the darned runaround.

Can it be that life that thrives
Is simpler than our brains surmise
From all the data thrown at us?

Maybe just a little meditation
And the silencing of motion
In the ocean of illusion
And the feeding of a news that’s false -
What we’re really needing,  
The concoction and the potion
Has been right before our noses
All the time.

Can It Be? 3.29.2018 Our Times, Our Culture II;  Revelations Big & Small; Arlene Corwin

Now you have to live
With the same pain I have felt
For the last four years

Meldings of feelings aren't to be
recognized by me anymore.
All such inclinations to do so have
caused me worry, anxiety, and a forlorn
sense of abandonment, so why continue
with such harmful dues?

They aren't for me anymore.
Maybe in the span of years they will be.
They may be ready to be picked up,
dusted off, and cleansed from the
pads of my fingers, but for now
they shall remain away from me,
a distant part of my memory and personality,
not conditioning themselves into my life.
These inclinations shall no longer
harbor the need for love, for
dependence, for the sweet disposition of
feeling whole.

These inclinations aren't there anymore,
they left me a while ago.

Kind, they told me I was kind.
Forgiving, they told me I was forgiving.
Understanding, they told me I was understanding.
I was.
Such statements I can't deny,
but how can one remain the same
when such character traits only
harm them in the end?
How can I remain the same, how can
I remain kind when it is never
given in return?

Second chances have been spent, and
I have none left to give.
I remained exhausted in the practice
of self loathing and misrepresentation.


I can't remain the same.
I won't remain the same.