The consumption of our heads and minds
devouring them until it is us
Eyes search and wander for the channel that speaks clear

When I hear about someone with an addiction, television is the first thought that enters my mind,
everyone that watches it is into robbery’s, ***, and violent crimes.
They all sit quiet like a rock staring into space,
with no movement at all, a cold blank look on their face.
So many of them have trouble deciding, changing channels all of the time,
So, for gone they can’t concentrate, or make a decision with their mind.
Many of them got started years ago, someone turned them on to it for free,
now that they are addicted, they are happy to pay a high monthly fee.
Television teaches children bad habits in so many ways,
watching the weather man getting paid to lie, then they learn the truth the very next day.
The viewers hide from their families and friends all of the time, has anyone ever told you they have to go, they can’t miss their fix, of a repeat TV show.
If you count up all the hours they waste, years over their life time, that’s why their called addicts, because they altered their state of mind.
The next time you, faith full watchers see a story about an addict on Tv, you can hold your head up high and say, that guy is just like me.



                Copyright Tom Maxwell 08/18/03

Something bad has happened, we've lost Dawn Wells.
Her friends and family must be going through Hell.
When we lose such a talented person, it's hard to understand.
For a few years she starred on "Gilligan's Island" as Mary Ann.

She died because of Covid-19 complications.
Her demise is sure to cause devastation.
Her family will find it hard to let go but they will have to try.
Dawn Wells has perished and it's sad to have to say goodbye.

my great throat tree is featured in float parades now

sponsored by paper mills

they send us free notebooks and you leave me

rounds of exquisite corpse to play

or folded frogs

or news of another alleged abduction with ***** political jokes in the margins

or the times you jot down to remember when you thought of the ghost

when i find these on my table, i sneak off for a phone call to the mattress

the mattress doesn’t care to watch parades on live broadcasted television

i can hear the ghost making breakfast on the other end

the mattress stares at the ceiling mostly and i remember this and i’m so

thankful

for you

i pick up a folded sheet and draw the trunk torso

and inside the tree trunk i draw a little man playing the french horn

but before drawing hearts spilling from the brass

i drew a massive ***

i smiled, knew you’d appreciate it, and started sweeping

authentic shots from the shooting place in iran.
dozens of people died

however

she is not ashamed of her beauty. the famous model
let her ******* peek out at the ceremonial party –

all good
then

his starred in a
television show
and he wore three
stripes in a row

he'd conduct business
behind the captain's back
as the Indians were
staging a faux attack

his sidekick was a
little man known as Agarn
and they'd regularly
meet at the saloon bar

no doubt he did
marshal a rag tag troop
and inside the fort he had
command of its coop  

the show was filmed
in a civil war setting
and of its name I'll
not be forgetting

Just think of all that you’ve seen
And experienced
Even forgotten
Throughout your Life.

Not just the Big Things.
The tiny
Seemingly insignificant things too.
Those various TV quizzes
Soaps, sitcoms, adverts
What would Aliens think?

Remember the savoury smell of freshly cut grass
Baking bread
And toilets!
Coffee as well.

See every detail of your table –
Strewn with papers
Objects
Mobile, wallet, medications, books…

Count those leaves on that tree
Stalks of grass
Grains of sand on a beach
Stars in the sky.

Remember all the people
You have met
Or seen
Or heard or read about.
From the rowdy
To the silent ones.
From Good to Evil.
I could go on…
But.

Who knows what our Subconscious Id
Has stored away
In the caverns of our minds?

Things that are with us always
Right until we Die.
And what happens to them then?
A whole universe of things.
Do they vanish
In a “pool of tears”?
Or are they somehow resurrected
Somewhere in Heaven?
We can only Hope…

Paul Butters

© PB 28\5\2020.