december fields
it only rains in these fields in december
for xmas is crying never comes here
people are too poor to care
for a fake invisible sky god
who may or may not exist
what exists is poverty and superstition
believing in what they can see in the day
and can’t see in the night
in omens and signs and words
oddly xmas isn’t on the list
just another working day
in the town where december rain
only falls in the fields in december
small town folk paranoid insolent
using bibles as toilet paper
how I feel the december rain

Timechain - Bitcoin’s implications
Bringing better motivations
Planning now on firm foundations
Verifying confirmations

Helping us to shun temptations
Longer views - no reservations
Skipping short term complications
Better people - better nations

Starting useful conversations
Raising people’s expectations
Making needed preparations
A higher way for generations

Everyday, strive to be more real,
Silencing thoughts, you’ll begin to feel.
All your life, denying your innermost
‘Til you winded up a ghost;
But you’re materializing,
Corporeal, stabilizing,
Life beckons you outside
Patiently, though it knows you died,
And it’s so cruel, and mean, and so unfair-
but shake those platitudes from your hair,
Lace your shoes, forget your blues,
see if you can change your views-
Remember, you’re never someone new:
Rather, you slowly become more you

The sun is slowly going down,
And summer breeze glides down my skin.
The moves of water calm me down,
The sounds of sax and guitar strings.

Amazing views and birds around,
I reach some joy and, maybe, peace
And while I stare at rosy clouds
I feel nostalgic bittersweet

What I love about music is its flow
What I hate about traffic is the stillness
What I love about trees is their stature
What I hate about crowds is the suffocation
What I love about movies is the ending
What I hate about time is AN ending
What I love about movement is the freeness
What I hate about walls is division
What I love about you is who you are
What I hate about silence is it’s confusion
What I love about rain is the freshness it brings
What I hate about destruction is the aftermath
What I love about horses is their soft inquisitive noses
What I hate about ignorance is ignorance
What I love about love is its safety
What I hate about travel is the distance
What I love about fresh sheets is the crispness
What I hate about wet jeans is the smell
What I love about meal times is the sharing
What I hate about taking is the selfishness
What I love about dogs is their unconditional love

The sky is beautiful tonight
Lavender, salmon, and pink like blushing when someone says they love you
But it's already gone
No one will ever see the colors I just saw
And I feel like blushing
Embarrassed due to long standing aversions to sincerity
5:26 PM

From where I sit at my desk at the gym
The sky is 2 different creatures
On one side
A blood orange backlight is cut and cracked by black naked trees
On the other side
The clouds shift and bubble like fresh squeezed blackberry soda
4 guys from the basketball team practice their 3 point shots
5:51 PM

I am just one of millions,
Seemingly identical from afar,
Crisp and uniform, like a freshly pressed shirt,
Up close I am different,
One petal less, one petal more, perhaps a different shade of white.
We blanket the earth, swaying together in the breeze. An ocean of white ripples,
Individually we crash against one another, just as waves do against a jagged cliff,
Pushed! Shoved, in the same direction by the unforgiving and relentless wind.

You gaze upon us, browsing like a happy shopper,
Your shadow blocks the light; engulfing me like a hungry toddler,
Aware of the inevitable I brace myself, praying that I am not next
Preying that in your eyes I am unworthy of your attention,
But then you do it, you swoop down,
Plucking me from my roots. Cutting my ties to this earth.
Slowly I am examined,
He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not,
This tortuous game of chance induced by boredom strips me of myself!
Then its over, you have been amused and now I am left bare,
Laying on the dirt; left to slowly decay while you run off,
Looking for your next victim.

I remember the lights going off in the brains of young poets.
Deep in the dank streets of New York or Columbia college.

When the blues and twos would come and round up
The beatniks snapping to the howl of a homosexual mind.

When the generational attitudes of those too old to know,
Control the ****** acts of “violence”, or
The deepening scars of our philosophies.

When the urbanization of historical prowess leads to
Gentrified gypsies of the diamond deserts and endless skyways

When the great in the country isn’t good enough
For the red hats and spray tanned millionaires.

When the stocks of corporate dragons burn down
The attempts of upstart knights and online kingdoms.

When the politicians of old become the scapegoats
For the ironically gerontocratic few.

When the female few who dared couldn’t find their lost primaries
Or control the lifeblood leaking out of the Strait of Hormuz.  

When the powerful and powerless fought in-between
The dejected and all too often ignored.

When the powered halogen lights flooded prison yards of
Wrongly convicted and murderously in need of help.

When the San Francisco clubs lit up with muzzle flash
And the dancers lay weeping in their blood.

When the schools became places to duck and cover
Or learn to trip a friend when running from a gun.

When parkland high became a manufacturing ground
For casings, tears, and candlelight vigils.

When the American dream came combo packaged
And supersized with obesity and unemployment.

When the education of the youth became about
The profit margin in a spreadsheet full of debt.

When the sun sets in the smoke filled horizons
And sleepless rest settles on the western front.