Stack the bodies higher
Stack them for the empire
People want more cash
So they sell harmful weapons
They don't mind the ash
Made of victims of aggression
Like collateral children in Yemen
Who are needlessly sent to heaven
Or the schoolchildren in Florida
Who had to go face the coroner
These children only know what we teach them
So how come the only things that can reach them
Are our weapons
And deadly directions?
Because of lobbyists like the NRA
Using logic from the seventh grade
To create a coalition of those who believe what they're told
And those unwilling to change because they're too old
And adults who desperately want their toys
Even if it means the death of little boys
So the bodies continue to stack to the sky
For people who dream of killing black guys
Black in the sense that they don't know who they are
They just want to feel hard
Stuck in a childish fantasy of protecting their home
Or a petulant fear of the unknown

Their economic gain
Causes ballistic pain
Inside their bullet rain
Innocence circles the drain
But we must make decisions together
Even with the emotionally severed
In order to make our society better
Until then our children get deader

They use uncertainty to buy time
And convince the masses
That the real problem is crime
To create rhetoric molasses
Because they make a living
From us dying
They don't mind bullet giving
Until we're lying
Six feet under
The guns sound like thunder
Warning of an approaching lightning storm
Where the rain drops stab us to our core
Then mix with the blood on the floor
Until civilization is no more

I hear loud guns
Then I hear church bells
I walk in the sun
But the foul dirt smells
Of the corpses of countless kids
Representing high contract bids
And the tears of their mothers
That are swept under the covers
By those with no empathy
That cause only entropy
Then they expect to live near us
A gun will make them hear us

Asleep alone
I got the light scare
Of a nightmare
With my plight there
Which wouldn't fight fair

Awake awaits
Chirping is all I hear
Dragging life into focus
Getting the lens clear
To see things are hopeless
My aches and pains
Are my body's refrain
To remind me of existence
Despite my mental resistance
I am lucid
I take my shoelace
And loop it
To run a new race

Timidly trembling
The violence in my dreams
Matches the silence and screams
That defile us and our team
Making the nightmares real
And the pain I can feel
So it's love I steal
A devil's deal
Hell unsealed
I can hear the vultures chirping
Or maybe they're just burping
Out the demons I ignored
My forgiveness they implored
To meet a silent scorn
Like a muted tribal horn
Banishing them to another realm
With my ostracism at the helm
Until the lonely are overwhelmed
And I see the error of my ways
Once I'm part of this chaotic haze

Practically paralyzed
I am lost
In this game
I've met the boss
He and I the same
He is a voice
Chirping in my ear
Saying I have no choice
I should give in to fear
And just drink beer
Until the end is here

Carelessly comatose
The birds that once sang beautifully
Now retreat dutifully
When they see my thoughtless anger
Turn me into a ruthless stranger
Creating danger
For those living righteously
They start fighting me
Trying to enlighten me
Which is only exciting me
Because I lack the sight to see
What the world could be
If we could harmonize
Like the birds
Not using argent lies
But soothing words
Yet there is no tax exemption
For my reluctant redemption
So my mind invented
No incentive

Soul slaughtered
The tear jerking
Birds chirping
Constantly remind me
Inside my sleep they find me
Thrusting me into a life unwinding
Through my window the sun is blinding
When I start to fear my brother
After seeing mirrors in others
Reflecting my attitude
Of ingratitude

I had a nasty nightmare
Of Camp Crystal Lake
Filled with misfit flakes
Paying for their mistakes
With pain and suffering
As deep as a submarine
Being torn apart
For every decision
Hiding their heart
To avoid incisions
And once all these losers are slain
The birds chirping start a new day

There are some pro wrestlers
Who always have to get all their **** in
There are people who expect things from them
And they give those things to those people
But for the rest of us
The match becomes predictable
As we await their signature moves

Which is why I think we need more wrestlers like Chris Jericho
He never had to get all his **** in
He served the story
Not his glory
He displayed the petulance of man
And showed us how we can say the right things
In the wrong way

Yes, we need more wrestlers like Chris Jericho
Someone who can host a talk show or headline Wrestlemania
Someone who can be comedic or vicious
We need people who understand the importance of looking foolish
As well as the obligation to maintain an edge
And people who can mentor the rookies
While hanging with the veterans

Yes, wrestling needs more people like Chris Jericho
People who don't depend on wrestling
He makes music
And has a podcast
Avenues being paved
For the crossroads many wrestlers face
Between business, art, physicality, and mentality
Where the road being left behind is physicality
It is hard to watch people hang on for the business

Yes, the world needs more people like Chris Jericho
He never cured a disease
Neither did he make one
He's a performer who creates
He creates for the benefit of himself and others
He's not a wrestler who has to get all his **** in
He understands signature moves can become crutches
On the path to a boring finisher

Christians are concerned with who is and isn’t saved
Maybe they should focus on the road they pave
If they really want to know why people run away
While they persecute those who are atheist or gay
They should try to relate
To the people they hate
But their emotions break
When their notions deflate

No free thought
Or love
Just breed a lot
And shove
The meek you’re supposed to admire
Because they’re not in the capitalist attire
Of a suit and tie to show that they’re higher
The weak are only interested in being consumerist buyers
Even if they have to team up with holocaust deniers
Who are seeking to ignite funeral pyres
It doesn’t matter how many bodies are on fire
As long as their own situation isn’t dire

They say ignorance is bliss
Following Jesus through the mist
But they clench their fist
Once they’re really ******
There must’ve been a lesson missed
Like the ones involving politics
Yet they add their hollow wit
To the country’s rhetoric
While they’re not ahead of it

Christianity develops a nasty reputation
Of being closed minded
Because all they add to the conversation
Is that they can’t find it
No matter how much they’re reminded
They walk around like they’re blinded
To not see what’s unclean
Like Christians who are viciously mean
Tearing society apart at the seams
Missed by the blindfolded team
Following signs as old as He
While ignoring history

I isolate myself in a community
So I can act with impunity
Once nothing gets through to me
I try to get the Jews to see
Their blasphemy
Unattractively

Not wanting to follow these roads
The congregation is leaving in droves
Searching for more peaceful groves
Or thoughtful treasure troves
Where they can follow the flow
Of not being told what to know

Christians must stop imposing their will
They must stop the self righteous kills
And pushing counterproductive bills
And take the red pill
Of peace be still
To abandon royal shills
Who sell toil filled
Oil drills
To follow Jesus’ path
Not enacting God’s wrath
By using subtractive math
That makes Satan laugh

I live in a berserk moor
During a nasty dirt war
Life now the worst chore
So I enter church doors
But somehow hurt more
Once I’m alone on the floor

I sit in a pew
With nothing to do
For I’m one of the few
Not up on the news
Or part of the stew
So I sit there and lose

Should I just give in
Because I don’t fit in?
Or is that I sin?
It seems I can’t win
With my glass chin
And mask of skin

The church is a microcosm of society
And my acceptance a sign of propriety
But I feel anxiety and paranoia biting me
While everyone else gets along delightfully
I sit in the corner
Like a silent mourner
Or Christopher Dorner
An unwanted reformer

I get so nervous
During the service
Did God serve this?
Do I deserve this?
Or can I swerve this
Feeling I’m worthless?

If I could just be myself
They could probably help
But remembering pain I felt
I put my personality on the shelf
Avoiding similar welts
To the ones I’ve been dealt

I live between church and society
never entering either entirely
I go to church and sing with God in me
but each memorable melodic monody
sounds increasingly odd to me
when there are only flaws I see.

Last night I had a horrid dream
I was with my worship team
when their worship scheme
resembled war ship steam.

It seemed like a normal service
but tonight we had special guests
the kind that can afford to purchase
every bell and whistle, nothing less.

I was to be their guide on tonight's spiritual ride
I trailed them like their extravagant robes
wishing to be someone people flock to in droves
but all I have are my words
and the Holy Spirit
so I sing like a bird
with radio interference.

Despite my best intentions of making a good impression
the service was a disaster in need of a master
unchecked videos wouldn't work
preplanned cues were missed
responsibilities were shirked
and I was ******.

My worship team started complaining
in a manner I found to be draining
because my must-see team of trusty steeds
had morphed into prima donna demon llamas
passing the buck and saying "that *****".

Under our Jesus painting
a sight has shanked me
a fire breaking
through our mistaking.
When the fire is small
it's no big deal
but once it grows tall
it becomes real.

We all had to evacuate
for firefighting to actuate
our realization of facts too late
that we'd failed a task too great.
I take my family to the church attic
away from all the stampede traffic
I think up there we can hack it
and look at the area impacted.

The sanctuary is a giant ember
yet dripping wet
I want to return to sender
fire grips me best
and grows at my behest
an emerging inferno infects
the sanctuary's rest.

Understanding danger
I escape with my family
outside with strangers
who all stand with me
we cry over spilt ilk
and brick that wilts.

But people toned down their tears
and stifled their sobs
like silencing fear
was their only job
so as the church was mourned
a makeshift line was formed
to consign Satan's scorn
and be alive and born.

They lined down the street
a church without seats
they still needed to speak
and seek out the meek.
They started praying together
praying for healing
not for the church to be better
but each other's feelings
their friends that were reeling
still needed the word so appealing.

I look back at the church
but I don't see it there
I don't lament its worth
or complain it's unfair
I save my despair
for those that need care.
A humble abode has replaced the opulent cathedral
where the ****** of the masses once found its needle
now there's a house that's meek like the women inside
could this be the house by which God wants me to abide?
I open the doors
and walk right in
I can feel in my core
the removal of sin.

I’ve been given a life of bliss
Into the church I slip
To worship this
First on the list
Is where to sit
In the holy pit
Of soul and spit

In the church there’s a battle
Between a serpent’s rattle
And the deafened cattle
There’s heaven and hell
In the seven sins I smell
Tainting the holy well
In which I dwell

I see pews
Of bad news
And my muse
But shy blues
Make lies loom
And I’ll die soon
In this spite tomb
Where I hide doom

The flamethrower
Game goer’s
Blame lowers
Shame knowers
To lanes slower
And a constrictive halo
Doesn’t let brains grow
So if the pastor say so
They’ll live in a daze glow

Their entropy
And my atrophy
Start centering
Around catastrophe
When what has to be
Is shooting flak at me
Dastardly

Two sides collide
And I must abide
To survive
The hive
Where demons and angels
Are leaving me mangled
Constantly tangled
In their angles

Some are good
Some are evil
Jesus saves
But do his people?

I need to change the circles I'm in
Because I fell into the trapezoid
Of trying to fit a square peg in a round hole
Making people believe I was a square
When I was really a rectangle
You just had to look at me from the right angles

The shape of things now
Is me looking at you from the wrong angles
You're pretty hot
90°
When you turn away from me your hotness doubles
180°
I think my Pompeii worm could survive the temperatures
But if you were to turn back around
No creature could survive
360°

The paradox of the parabola in my pants
Will never be solved
It's not your math problem
We're just two points on this rotating sphere
Where time is a straight line
And our's is a segment

I wish I understood the formula
So I could predict the outcome
But there are too many variables
Leaving my head spinning in circles
And myself running in circles
Meant to be avoided
Because within those circles are triangular trials
Where two points create a perfect line
And a third point ruins that

As points are added to the population
Lines only get larger
Like the welfare line
Mammoth shapes grow wider and more complex
Like the Pentagon
Lines become more easily crossed
Angles more easily tangled
And my freezing point becomes my boiling point
While I wish for a world more two-dimensional
Because once I consider depth
I realize I could never measure up to my ruler

Life is about running in circles
And making those circles as big as possible
But I only run with the hurtful
And my circle is an obstacle
I must hurdle
To live optimal
But I hide like a turtle
In my tortoise shell
Sort of hell
Where a flood fell
Filling the blood well
That is my circular cell

My route to south
Roundabout
Gives a frown devout
And I can’t get out
When the other drivers block me
In this game of circular hockey
The other skaters try to knock me
Until I’m not me

The difference is stark
Now I’m a circling shark
Looking for prey to eat
To join in my defeat
I tell myself I enjoy pain that’s visceral
Because I’m so miserable

After all my sinning
The circle is winning
As my head is spinning
From a hurricane
Ensuring pain
In my fury brain
With an impossible game
To tornado tame
The circling drain

So I find this circular saw
Has a surplus of flaws
Living by primal laws
I use tiger claws
To follow lion laws
While they gnash their ****** jaws
I just look down at my circular paws
Wishing I wasn’t following frauds

My life is an O
I don’t know
Where to go
I follow the flow
In a circular mode
My life is a 0
So I look for a hero
I only find fear though
Making me veer low

After countless searches
I find circles of purpose
That can’t be purchased
With something like money
But a way of existing
That demand I stop running
And I stop resisting
Fear grips me
As changes trip me
As my new way strips me
Which was part of its gifting
To end my circle sifting
With a cross it lifts me
To end my drifting

We are a puzzle with missing parts
That is why we make art
It is a healing start

We are all dream chasers
Until pencil meets eraser
Until boat meets glacier
Reality we must face her
When we sacrifice imagination
For societal integration
We search for placation
In lonely play stations
And through vacation
We experience migration
When the results are doubtful
And the response a drought mold
Because people are skeptical
Until there's a shiny scepter sold
Then you're put on a pedestal
And have your pecker pulled
By various industry tools
Loading you like a mule
With expensive jewels

Art must be the only motive
Not climbing any totem
Because once you're dead
Your art can still be read
Audiences may still be fed
But there's a frivolous influence
So you must be vigilant and prudent
To cut that from your life
So art may be your wife
That works to end strife
Yet that kind of help
You can't put on a shelf

I strive to make my art timeless
Though my pockets are dimeless
We live in a world of depression
That carries the risk of regression
My art could help push past it
Now that would be classic

Click here now
Puppy dog chow
Click here now
Thought disallowed
Click here now
To be part of the crowd

The buyer’s locked
In a liar’s box
On Firefox
In only socks

Click here now
Boom Boom Pow
Click here now
For music that’s loud
Click here now
For soothing sounds

Listen to your peers
Receiving cheers
While you stay here
With a computer near

Click here now
Look what I found
Click here now
**** singles around
Click here now
To be gagged and bound

Open your browser
And act like Bowser
Buy a Mauser
Or trendy trousers

Click here now
I’ll make you say wow
Click here now
I’ll show you how
Click here now
To slowly drown

Ignore your tasks
And buy a flask
Tell your past
Or buy a mask

I keep clicking
Like the gun to my head
Finger flicking
Laying in bed

The sun saturates—maturates my family's backyard
like clomiphene for chlorophyll.
Swords emerge from my sward, harboring mosquitoes,
the edges need to be filed down.
Father would edge the lawn, trimming its sides
to make a perfect geometric shape.
The wind would push the grass down,
like God patting the top of the field's head.
I would cut that grass—each blade sent through my blades
dispersing into a green mist.
Clippings are thrown into bat cave black garbage bags
tied tight to avoid leakage.
But when I go inside, I notice that green powder
has collected on my shoes.

My mind is foggy
Though I'm not groggy
A mist emerges
My peace it purges
I see contradictions
And feel convictions
That inflict conflict
And indict convicts
So I accumulate cumulus clouds accordingly
To fog my marshy mind more horribly
My brain becomes a banshee
And screams from my mist
She shrieks an awful list
Of everything wrong
And everyone gone
Her voice blasts through my cerebral stratus clouds
And her voice echoes within the silent static crowd
The clouds I gathered to block her wailing
Are completely empty and always failing
They look so absolutely grand and solid in the sky
They're just water vapor that form droplets in my eyes

I see the rabbits feeding on the grass
My heart is filled with joy
Their life is precious
I see the vultures feeding on the rabbits
My heart is filled with joy
Their life is precious

That's what I never understood about coffins
Life is about expanding your prison cell as much as you can
There's no requirement to be contained once it's over
Our nutriance to the Earth
Is our nutrients into Earth
All creatures that die on this planet
Become a part of it
The Debt they paid to the future
The Debt that is always collected on
We travel nonchalantly on their corpses
Wishing they could appreciate
That each and every one of them
Was one step closer to sentience
This planet's passion project

Could the first single-celled organism
Comprehend my humiliation?
When the first creature walked on land
Was it anticipating my shame?
Did it sprout wings
To give me nightmares of dying in an airplane?
Did ancient Neanderthals dance around a fire
To reenact my adolescence?
Could mystic voodoo shaman
Cure my lack of agency?
Or did lost American tribesmen
Prophesize the complexities of my love?
I can feel all these ******* looking up at me from the ground
And it's just me
As I accidentally burn my notebook with a cigarette

One day I met a titular telepath
That made me do social math
After I took a brief bubble bath
Underneath his heavy hovercraft
That submerged my brain
Allowing no sign of refrain
Only the pain
Of the stain
Of his Rorschach test
Filling inside my crest

You cast a spell of thought on me
When you walk by so haughtily
I can't think
Only drink
Your Kool-Aid
Of a fool's blade

It should be considered a crime
The way you control my mind
I feel so pointlessly paranoid
And it's not the ****
You travel to an abysmal void
I just follow your lead

I live in a world of mass media
But you cut off my streaming
So I guess I won't be seeing them
And I can focus on dreaming
Of an amazing life starring you
And introducing happiness
I don't care how it's reviewed
The critics negate sappiness

I'm so afraid you will get rid of me
While I sit under your guillotine
That can't reach me in your grasp
But if I ever leave it'll be in half
I'm trapped in a precarious position
That I fear will carry us to collision
I put my ear to the ground and listen
For an approaching stampede
That will steal my cognition
Will those wildebeest thieves
Make a deadly incision?

There's a giant disparity
No economic parity
Or intellectual clarity
When they're scaring me
So I'll collapse invariably
Under coins they're barreling

They nickel and dime me
So I'm pinching for pennies
No peace I'm finding
Working at Wendy's
For the money lending
Capitalism bending
Sharks that are trending

We coin those with stacks of cash
As successes
Even if their heart's black as ash
It impresses

Money doesn't grow on trees
But it seems to float in the breeze
The direction these people please
Or happen to sneeze

I scrape
And claw
But those apes
Are frauds
Playing God
No sin absolved
Without their call

Because I don't put up with their torture
I haven't made a dime this quarter
Because of dollar hoarders
Ruling through law and order
Creating tribalistic borders

Nobody's paying my bailout
I'm too small to fail now
My life's become stale, how?
The **** of a male cow
I tear apart my only couch
Looking for a coin pouch
To get me out
Of this drought

I cut my fingers
And bruise my knuckles
My fatigue lingers
Until I buckle
My stock tumbles
As I scream uncle

We allocate all our resources to a few
While the rest of society turns into a zoo
Where people die to pay their dues
And are given a pocket of coins to use
Which ignites their fuse
But their obfuscated views
Are swayed by the news
Teaching trivial truths

Change starts jingling in my pocket
When I get on a revolutionary rocket
So they buy a gun and **** it
To preemptively block it
They use marketing to stop it
Like it's just another stock tip

They have the guns
They have the money
I have to run
If they start hunting
Because those that say something
Are the edges they're blunting
With coins they're dumping
To protect one thing:
The profit margin
Like social Darwins
They say the hard win
With unholy marred sin
By collecting the coins of their foes
To help economic hostility grow
Until coins are all we know

I need my employer
more than they need me
but our employers need us
way more than we need them.

I came out of the closet swinging
my **** around
all the while singing
and wearing a crown
it’s nice to be here
out of the darkness
now the way I steer
is the farthest
without a harness
I go wherever I may
it’s the greatest decision I ever made
and all I had to do is say that I’m gay.

Competition is ingrained in us
from the very beginning
in its simplest terms
I live / they die = I win.

Enveloped by evolution
everything progresses
competition no exception
pervading the minds of the sentient species.

Humans understand there are shades of grey
and know that you can live more than someone else
they see the difference between kings and serfs
and how this dichotomy shapes our self worth.

There are metrics for everything we do
measuring our productivity, our efficiency, our importance
which affects our self esteem
which effects our productivity, our efficiency, our importance.

You can run faster than me, so I say at least I’m smarter
or have more money, or friends
if I have to face the fact that you’re better off than I am
I’ll rationalize my life is harder—so I win.

When you know something I don’t
I feel inferior—this epiphany stings
enough for me to run away in my mind
and believe my wrong ideas are right.

If you choose someone over me
then you’re a fool
I could love you better
as long as we perceive better the same way.

There’s a self-replenishing buffet
but I eat off their plate
ensuring I eat more than them
and when that’s not enough, I eat them.

Anthrax says who cares wins
while internet trolls say who isn’t mad wins
but I’m too mad to care
stuck in a last man standing mentality.

We’ll see who’s winning when I’m ******* on your grave
in this world where crossing the finish line amounts to a loss
there’s no use in crying over spilt milk while I’m milking the clock
waiting to be victorious.

We boil down competition to its simplest terms:
Who is better? Who is the best?
Observing games, challenges, and obstacles
deciding who we feel encompasses
the best skill set for said endeavors
by picking teams or individuals above others
as a way of communicating our support for the prioritization
of their methodology or personality
because we know if they are revered enough
they can become role models or even celebrities
and inspire and influence the next generation
changing the way games, challenges, and obstacles
will be met in the future.

We must be willing to compromise politically
without compromising our morality
but our morality dictates our politics
and politics indoctrinate morality
even though willingness to compromise is part of our morality
so are concepts like freedom and sovereignty and liberty
and it's up to us to decide what those words mean individually
and it's on those definitions we are unwilling to compromise.

America has an obsession with guns
and will glorify anybody that carries one.

America has an obsession with race
and will glorify anybody that shares their face.

Imagine every statue and memorial in America vanished
and America placed you, Mr. Reader, in charge
of deciding what every monument in the country would be
—events commemorated, dates remembered, people honored—
how long would it take for you to start naming confederate soldiers?

My neck noosed
My legs loosed
I witness the tragic
It seems so emphatic
I feel entropy
Enter me
Centering
Around love and pain
I wear gloves of shame
Toxicity taints touch
My reaction is to cautiously recoil
For I feel a great punch
When I expect them to be loyal
A tear rolls down my cheek
Navigating scars
Like a man who is meek
Navigating bars
It starts and stops
Then keeps going
The tears drop
From what I'm knowing
That my time is evaporating
Dealing with the exasperating

I feel I can be caring
I just need the chance
We'll see how I'm fairing
On the end of your lance
Penetrating deeply
The pain is unceasing
Like a thousand bee stings
While you stand there feasting
Making me feel alive
From the pain inside

I guess things could always be worse
Sometimes that feels like a curse
Because I have problems all the same
But it's true
The sum of our troubles equal this game
That we lose
Even though I'd rather deal with *** and silence
Than to be vexed by violence
They're all just ways of imposing our will
Whether it's through who we birth or ****
Conflict is how we get our fill
Every day a different fire drill
We hate each other
We date each other
We underrate each other
To deflate each other
Pain is used as a tool
Until blood lays in a pool

These things that annoy us
Are met by avoidance
These things compound
Until I can't be unwound
I live in a world of contending intentions
It's a world of our own selfish invention
A world that burns bright
So I can't sleep
When day turns to night
I hear death creep
Seeking to take me from a life I never asked for
But I'm grateful to have
Life is about experimenting with opening doors
And I'm stuck in the lab

I live conflicted
between the life I'm gifted
and fault lines that have shifted
under my feet
for a dream delete
under the concrete
mob elite.

The grass isn't green and ****
I stand here beetle bit
I can't seem to sift
through the needless rifts
brought by greedy grifts
and seedy spit
on our supply side cliff.

I stand out of the range
of the morally deranged
which is how they arrange
my inability to effect change
which puts me down in the count
and down on the scoreboard
so I can't purchase a mount
to start moving forward.

I'm the disease and the antidote
I'm the hunter and the antelope
water rushing through the dam I broke
flooding the land of hope
with my brand of nope
down a tantrum *****.

There's a cynical patter in town
saying it doesn't matter if I drown
or if I burn
either way I suffocate
then put into the ground in turn
they just listen to sounds that churn
as the unbound learn
there are hounds on Earth
that scour the turf.

I sit on the sidelines
begging them to stop
but then I find I'm
cheering the beating of cops
after seeing their glocks
protecting nothing but stocks
when an uptick in mops
is what we should want.

I am the owl sitting in the tree
I am the fowl dead among the leaves
I watch the world turn from my grave
where I burn as a slave
just to return to my cave
to repeat this the next day.

Donald Trump's presidency
Is one of the greatest achievements in art I have ever experienced
And Trump is a true artist
He takes words from the page
Like corruption, disenfranchisement, xenophobia
And brings them to life
Highlighting fear and paranoia so clearly
Contrasting the blacks and whites
Emphasizing anger
While reminding us we're mere infants
In the digital age
And warning us of our seniority
And capitalism's

We all like to think life has meaning
Until we hit an animal with our car
Then that's just the way things are
And I'm staring at an absurdist painting
Of a child driving a car
Through a herd of sheep
As I watch a heist film
Where the robbers turn their guns over
To the mentally unstable guy in the group

Trump is a national artist
Placing riots on the map
And drawing infernos on the Internet
His art forces an opinion
Everybody has something to say about him
And it's all true
Even the pages he ripped from his own cabinet
Tried to villainize him in their script
But he was already an anti-hero
The humor is that the mud slung onto him
Is dirt kicked up from his own tires
I guess if you surround yourself with hateful people
You're surrounding yourself with people who probably hate you

Trump's art is deeply conflicting
He reminds me of the people who want me to live in shame
Yet he embodies the individuality that separates me from that shame
His insecurities remind me of myself
High school is the White House in the eyes of a kid
And I had secrets I wanted to share
But felt I couldn't
I learned things
That changed my entire perspective
And didn't think people would understand
Afraid of being assaulted for my indiscretions
I hid behind a boisterous personality
And a nonchalant attitude
Trump's art evokes sympathy and hatred that feels so strong
When he holds a mirror defining our worst qualities
To a man viscerally opposed to his own reflection
The confliction of emotions
Is the hallmark of great art

We are all artists
The lines we write or the strokes we brush
Are in our actions
And Trump's canvas displays
A life filled with accomplishment
Inspiring me to live my own life
But I still wake up in cold sweats
From the American dream
That anybody can be president

I live among prying peers
Telling me which way to steer
They’re all I can hear
So to garner cheers
In their direction I veer

I thought if I stayed still
They wouldn’t see me
So I took a pill
So I could be me
But that didn’t free me
Once I was needing
Constant feeding

So I join civilization
And see their indications
Pointing towards temptations
To provide societal placation

They send me
To the trendy
Intending
To amend me

The conformity
Is informing me
Changing horribly
To what I see normally

My confirmation of conformation
Is in observations of obfuscation
In this iteration of integration
Where I conform for calibration

I’m willing to be wrong
To belong
Can I be strong
Singing another’s song?

I want to fit in
So I sit in
Places I’m whipped in
Hatred I’m dipped in
In a crazed conniption

I’ve had a painful life
Under their knife
Giving me strife
To make me right
In their light

Consumed by conformity
Society absorbing me
Changing enormously
To the form I see

I hate what I’ve become
At their behest
So I load my gun
And join the rest

I’ve become an automaton
Building atomic bombs
To drop on the calm
Who don’t sing my song

I can hear confusion clap
Could it be confusion relapse?
Is the problem confusion perhaps?

I sit in solitary confinement
To perfect my confusion refinement
He guards my door
Like a chore
From inside my lonely stall
I can hear him take calls
I stare into a concrete grey
That blocks the Sun's rays

If I told my guard I loved him
Would he free me from this cell?
Would he free me from this hell?
Or would he release me
To the murderers and thieves?
Or would he release me
To a life where he leaves?
I sit silently in solitary
And enjoy his presence
I'm not allowed in his monastery
For I'm a mere peasant

Confusion grasps
I scream
Muffled gasps
In the wind
Confusion *****

I fear the day the guard leaves his post
Because he's the one I love the most
He's a circumstance of my condition
When he's my confusion's ambition
Making him the only one I see
So how can I ever be free?

I have become a confusion shell
I live in a confusion cell
In love I fell

We’re all born in the same place
Ourselves
And we all run the same race
To hell

Born into a world already turning
My feet start urgently burning
Before my brain begins churning
I ignore what I’m learning
For my movement yearning

Now that I’m of a reactionary fashion
It’s time for social interaction
I’m told to pick a faction
That’ll be my infallible bastion
I’ll defend with blind passion

My need to know more
Brought the conquistador
Who had the keys to my door
With no reason implored
He beat me to the floor

He comes from society
To check my propriety
Conquering through anxiety
Or straight up fighting me
Until the pain starts piling
From his constant defiling

I’ve made a million mistakes
So I don’t deserve any breaks
But all he does is take
Everything at stake
My life he shakes
To make me fake

Through the storm
He screams conform
Until my soul is torn
After I adorn
His demon horns

I adopted his impersonal sensation
So to avoid my temptations
I commit self immolation
For the hellish integration
Of society’s placation

But he keeps demanding more
He keeps demanding war
And me to be ******
Until I’m not sure
If I can be cured
Or even endure
When they obscure
The path of the pure
With their malice lure

The safety of sedating
Keeps me from hating
So life becomes waiting
Avoiding their blading
And incision trading
Which is why I’m delaying
And the conquistador is staying

I can’t wake up
After I ate up
The tryptophan
Cryptogram
Sold to man
Turning ******
On the lamb
From the sham
Of Uncle Sam

Constantly confounded
monsters have mounted
problems I've counted
groveling grounded.

The constant confusion
from deficit delusions
create definite illusions
of excrement infusion.

The continuous questioning
can be quite deafening
lessening
the best of me.

I use a thought shield
so I cannot feel
like the locked steel
of stopped wheels.

F in the chat
for the death in my hat
I'm left with a lack
of discerning tact.

I'm living a lie
by not living with why
but idiot I
just sits down and cries.

I haplessly hope for a lucky guess
to get me out of this ******* mess
but I haven't seen nothing yet
except my own lonely death.

I don't live here
I'm only camping
On this planet
I didn't plan it
Yet I feel the need to explain it
As the plaintiff
To the sheriff
Imposing tariffs

Money is their concern
While my emotions burn
They are somewhat surviving
At the price of dying
That's the cost of lying
It makes us stop trying
Only commodity buying
While silently sighing
And violently frying
Through fruitless searches
No matter what we purchase
Or how much we spend
The gripping grief never ends
When there are no hands to lend

There are no problems with these items
When we willingly refuse to sight them
They are from where our problems erupt
For we neglectfully allow them to disrupt
The connections that our hearts yearn for
And our wallets burn for
When we spend our emotions on inanimate objects
To avoid the intangible subject
Of love

We're frightened of phantoms
A life heightened by tandem
Is not in the cards
We buy for each other
They don't begin to cover
The way we feel
They are a shield
For our true emotions
Objects can't evoke one
Yet that's our language for expression
Consumerism acts as our lethal injection

Metallica is my friend’s favorite band
I had always dismissed them as generic and repetitive
But that arrogance and indifference eventually faded
And recently I started going through their music
Discovering there was a lot I missed out on
Adding new songs to my life’s soundtrack
While teaching me a lesson of humility and empathy
Conversations with my friend have grown deeper and more specific
Helping me relate to him
Strengthening our friendship
Through the vast and surprising benefits of consuming art

A con tricking one into focusing on the temporary.

I stick with what I know
Refusing to grow
Until I’m losing the show
With nowhere to go
I become part of the flow
Of an abandoned road

Staying in my lane
Playing video games
I’m becoming lame
With thoughts so tame
Ignoring doubtful shame
And bouts with pain
To preserve my brain
From harsh stains
So when I’m social
I am only hopeful
They don’t see I have no soul

To reach the top of that hill
I need to develop the will
To acquire a new skill
That’ll leave me fulfilled
And not on pills
But on playbills
That pay bills
Where the bay spills

But learning language
Brings me anguish
The stench of my French
Puts me on the bench
And I’m speaking German
Like I’m inside a Sherman
So I give up sounding like Napoleon
And go try out the accordion

But my focus on instrumentation
Only causes further insulation
When it doesn’t give placation
Requiring practice and inspiration
Yet I can’t tell the difference between a piano and a dynamo
But I guess I wasn’t really trying though
What I’m doing is more like dying slow
Parked in the snow
With nowhere to go

I have no patience
Nor discipline
I crave safeness
And indifference
For living with ease
Is my domestic disease
Drowning on my knees
Until I’m not interesting
In this interest sea
Where I float free
But don’t see

I say it’s all been done before
So why should I do any more?
Those before me got to score
And then closed the door
To the convenience store
They created a mangled mold
Out of their stranglehold
On the angles sold
But my blame grows old
As my claims are told
And my peers are polled
Concluding I’m not bold
After becoming cold

After a head start
I wait for a spark
Alone in the dark
With no real heart
Expecting my part
To fall in my lap
And people to clap
While I can’t do a thing
I can’t dance or sing
My hands I wring
Scheming ways to be king
Without pulling the strings
And never committing
It’ll be here I’m sitting

A good church is a cord connecting a community
God's umbilical cord connecting humanity
like the cords connecting the computers, cameras and microphones
the AV team meets every week to uplift a hundred seats
before worship practice starts they connect with one another
providing lines of praise and prayer tracing their hopes and fears
running diagnostics
checking the cords connected to instruments,  lighting, earpieces
removing the frays and knots
because the sermon runs smoothly when all the cords have been checked
the cords run throughout the church and up the band's spines
the voice of God lets them know they'll be playing the bridge again
so everybody throws up their hands and sings along
their vocal cords trying to hit tonal chords
cords of water connecting eyes to mouths shows
the congregation is plugged in
because the cords have been properly checked.

I can't hear the choir from my couch
It becomes a funeral pyre in a pouch
Like the unnatural fire in my slouch
That is where I retire
To superficially admire
A world I'll never see
Placing trust in the screen
I'm as lonely as can be
Until couches set me free
From a life worrying about others
The couch becomes my banal brother
That is where I concoct my cowardly plan
To avoid my fellow meddlesome man
Living a life in silence
The couch creates pylons
Determining where I can go
Determining what I can know

This Ottoman Empire
Lights the world on fire
With cushions that fuel
Flames and drool
I attempt to stand
But life seems bland
With feeling constant comfort
So my personality I import
From the images on TV
And my brain it impedes
When I can't think for myself
I put my life on the shelf
And flee into furniture
The couch my burning cure

I scoffed at my minor cough
Until I was immobile as a sloth
I had to press pause on my life's tale
After I became a beached whale
And my body turned frail
In my illness jail

My stoic resolve tested
My pain threshold crested
The way I act is antisocial
The way I feel is anti-hopeful
For I treat others poorly
When I'm hurting sorely

In sickness for health
I give away my wealth
To feel one hundred percent
That's the physician's intent
To make me experience drainage
But I need the healing medicine
So I can practice the discipline
Of removing my diseased shark's fin

Ramses II, known as Ramesses the Great
Had a permanently fractured finger
And his teeth were significantly rotten
The pharaoh's excruciating pain
Must have effected his reign
A massive amount of men slain
Is discomfort what's to blame?

When there's no pain relief
We give each other grief
And there's a lion with a thorn stuck in its paw
Eventually that simple thorn becomes a claw

They told me never to count my chickens before they hatch
but I just never count my chickens ever
because chicken salad always looks like chicken ****
when I’m obsessing over nuggets.

The cows graze in their pasture
Subservient to their master
Who doesn’t move faster
To help avoid disaster
So the cows are on their own
To deal with snow
Those all alone
Completely froze
Yet those who know
To use the warm glow
Of company that showed
Survive temperature lows

The cows used to solitary grazing
Now begin embracing
To fight cold air they’re facing
That is life erasing
While frost is lacing
The grass once worth tasting

The winter refuses to yield
As snow builds in the fields
The cows’ cohesion is revealed
As they protect their veal
And forget to steal
To connect and heal
During this ordeal

In times of inclement weather
The cows huddle together
Like someone pulled a lever
That won’t stay locked forever
So eventually ties are severed

As summer comes
The dumber numb
Thinking they won
Soaking up sun
Knowing winter is done
They divide into ones

A flow line
Of the bovine
Slow grind
Shows flies
Grow wise
With no size
They devise
To go for eyes
Cows go blind
In their mind
And cannot find
Their herd in time

Pretty soon the irritating fleas
Give them mad cow disease
As they don’t look to please
But put the good on their knees
While they’re hiding in trees
And biting with absolute ease
Seeing the absence of immunities
From their lack of community

The lost independent
Weather defendants
Become repentant
When they hear encroaching
Thunder clouds approaching
The cows become hectic
From a storm electric
Their formation eclectic
So they feel unprotected
But a fence was erected
So they can’t join the dejected
And this lonely life they elected
Is sadly reflected

The lasso angler
Hassling wranglers
Unmasked as stranglers
Bring the herd together
As they pull a lever
That’ll stay locked forever
As the cows’ heads are severed
And the horns in their head
Stick around once they’re dead
As we eat what they were fed
While they made their own bed

When it comes to creating art
And somebody starts explaining
“All you have to do is...”
I can always count on the reductive advice that follows
To be only worth discarding

The Sun shines on my computer
Creating a protective glare
But night comes like an intruder
At pictures I begin to stare

After I view their portrait online
I want to see their body on mine
We talk all night
Until I see the light
That they're not that bright
Or that they like to fight

Desperation swirls
I enter a world
Where the randomness of human interaction
Meets the randomness of my attraction
And the low visibility
Endears no civility
Will I spend infinity
In this digital city?

The creatures try to hide
They scatter in the distance
They're not hard to find
When their profiles leave imprints
But the parasites are quick
And the scavengers stick
Vultures fly from iPad to iPhone
Leeches try to make my pad their home
Devouring me until I'm bad to the bone
Like the solicitous predators
Who act like creditors
And the sly foxes
Who claim they're locksmiths
They all have claws and fangs
They're all just jaws with brains
I play possum
Until I've lost them

When monsters are made from loneliness
They try to trick me with phoniness
They feel I wouldn't want us to be together
And they're probably right
Because all I want is to spend forever
In love's divine light
Nocturnal animals just want the meal
Of my motion
They don't want to honestly feel
My devotion

In the wild
I am a child
The creatures cut deep
They make me weep
Until I choose to sleep
But when I avoid their glance
I avoid love's chance

There are crickets in my room
Somewhere not reached by my broom
They keep chirping
To alert me
Of what hurts me
They’ve made a mess
In my nest
But I can’t find it
To confine it
Like I’m blinded

Mistakes were made
Hurting my name
Bringing me shame
So I live in a grave
Where crickets lay
They can’t be slain
So their noise remains

The crickets are beckoning
Bringing my reckoning
With a sound that’s threatening
Because it’s so deafening

The crickets infest my home
So I’m never really alone
They live in my basement and attic
Chirping until I’ve finally had it
I jump out my window like a rabbit
To avoid their noise so emphatic
But out here the crickets sing prouder
With a chorus that’s even louder
The crickets buzz like an alarm
Reminding me of my harm
They’ll sing for me to disarm
Until I change or wither
So I’m a plagued sinner
Who’ll never be a winner
Wrestling with damage inner

I eluded their noise
So nukes were deployed
And my nation destroyed
By a sound that annoyed
Me until I couldn’t avoid
Not being conscience devoid

I ask for forgiveness
All I hear are crickets
And cops giving tickets
In this concrete thicket
That I need to picket

Criticism is often not taken or given well
Something that helps me
Is focusing on what people are doing correctly
It makes my criticism more genuine
Instead of focusing on how far they’re falling behind
I try to focus on how much further they can go
So I’m genuinely disappointed when they fail
And try offering advice on how to succeed
Which I guess you could call criticism
But it feels a lot less like it

You and I need to Tom Cruise together
Because I only know A Few Good Men
And you're the Top Gun
And I am a little self conscious about
how much I enjoy the first half of Cocktails
Because this kind of love can be Risky Business
When I'm with you I don't want to see the Edge of Tomorrow
Nor do I feel like I'm one of The Outsiders anymore
We should get really weird
and try some Eyes Wide Shut ****
But I'd settle for a Jack or a Reacher from you anytime
But how do I precipitate our connection, Rain Man?
It just seems like Mission: Impossible.
I stare vacantly into the Vanilla Sky
As these Days of Thunder last too long
Without you
The difference is Knight and Day
For in your Endless Love
I was merely Collateral
Now passively watch as I fall into Oblivion

Imagine there is a room
That holds extremely controversial information
But the nature of this information is so intense
Everyone who goes inside the room to learn
Immediately commits suicide after coming back out
Would you go in?

Some people would have no problem
Avoiding something like that
But some of us just need to know
Making the same mistakes others have made before us
We think our uniqueness will protect us
Minimizing risks to us relative to those before

Interest resides in the back of my mind
Maybe the people who commit suicide
Know something I don’t
But if that were the case
What knowledge could they hold
To make suicide worth it?

At what point does caution end
And curiosity take over?
Perhaps the answer lies in that room I wonder if I’d go in
I imagine I probably would
Because what I know is already hurting me
And what I don’t know is what kills me

Because I’m lonely
I’m desperate
because I’m desperate
I’m taken advantage of
because I’m taken advantage of
I’m distrustful
because I’m distrustful
I isolate
because I isolate
I’m lonely.

We speak the explicit language of damage
Whether it's through anguish or famine
It only takes a little while to examine
Until we learn the language well
And eventually become fluent
To create this worldwide hell
Where the warfare is incongruent

We speak this language for many reasons
We speak this language through every season
The dialect varies from country to country
But all that really matters is who's hunting
The end result is the same
For damage done before
We inflict retributive pain
To even the damage score

Damage lowers our health
Damage increases their wealth
Damage puts us on the shelf
Until we damage ourself

The damage is done
So we must run
But at some point we turn around
Planting our feet into the ground
Becoming the damage cause
Doing what we've learned
We attribute this to our flaws
Not caring who gets burned

There is a damage sandwich
Within our damaged land's width
We're caught between being imposed on
And becoming oppressors
You're either forced to keep your clothes on
Or become an undresser
Perceptions of greater and lesser
Further complicate the scenario
We receive them through our stereo
To look down on those of other barrios
All of that damage can be parried though
If we work as a team
Better yet a species
To live in a utopian dream
Instead of our feces

Vultures draw circles in the sky
tracing the paths we run
concentric predatory perimeters
paralyze prey with peril
ping pong eyes pogo up and down
trying to detect fine print consignment.

Squirrels keep their head on a swivel
tightrope walking on telephone lines
or traveling along the branches in canopies
avoiding the ground with suspicion
of sentinel snakes slithering in the soil.

A contract is written in a newborn calf
standing up and beginning to graze
innately aware of wolf rescissions
and tornado trials.

Cephalopod ink spills on the page
tyrosinase blinds the opponent
suffocating in a dark cloud
while the octopus escapes
to grow into a Kraken form.

So eyes dart back and forth
reading back the record
of a jungle mentality
wandering high
to avoid predators below
and an ocean turning black.

The cursed clouds decide to stay
Through this blacked out phase
So I proceed to play
During darkened days

Swirling black
In a sky of flak
The courage I lack
To counterattack

Bombs explode
Smoke blocks the sun
Now that I know
Dying can be fun
To the finish line I run
After I feel I am done

The sky gets darker
By permanent markers
The sun hides
The dude abides

I am under a curse
Of things getting worse
I look for a nurse
Out the back of my hearse

Love can be found
And unwound
No one is bound
So they leave town

The days used to be bright
Until I found reasons to fight
And the grass died
When my *** lied

I can't retrieve the light
When I am blinded
I'm unable to use sight
So I cannot find it

Darkened days
Block the sun's rays
I can't see through the haze
Of these darkened days

Time passes
Like lightning flashes
And depleting drug stashes
Impeding love's crashes
When I'm burnt to ashes

I don't know if I'm romantic
Or in an existential crisis
But as I become tantric
I feel I must fight this
So I wield a sword
Of tears that poured
For those I adored
Until they brought darkness
Despite my praise
When they act heartless
I live darkened days

I live in the wilderness
The Sun shines on the trees and through the leaves
Warmth envelopes my sanctuary
Until darkness approaches like a fog
The darkness is pregnant with sounds
I hear animals snarling while bones are breaking
Whimpers turn into blood curdling gargles
As the darkness renders invisibility among predators
And the darkness engenders vulnerability among prey
I desperately want to help but there is a darkness barricade
The darkness follows everything
The darkness swallows everything

I can hear planes crash
And the passengers scream
From within the darkness
I can only see muzzle flash
And the barrel's steam
Creating hardship
The darkness converts men to shouts of agony and rage
The darkness blinds us from the writing on the page
The darkness makes us believe
That it's our reprieve

Darkness has us in it's sight
When we choose to live in light
Even when we do what is right
Darkness takes flight
Becoming our plight
We try to fight back with futility
The darkness' bite has more utility
We are engulfed by negativity
As we lose all connectivity
And our mouths begin to foam
When the darkness is our home

How can I
Falcon fly
While I die
In a web of lies
Where they brutalize
Us like flies

We must communicate
By connecting
To avoid rumors of hate
That are infecting
The non-inspecting
No problem detecting
Yet happiness expecting
Tyrant electing
Issue deflecting
Fascism respecting
Public that's perplexing

So the Internet should remain harmlessly neutral
Instead of adding to our economic Kama Sutra
Finding new ways to ***** each other
Like restricting access to information
So we won't hear the screams of our brothers
To the rich and powerful's elation

Dealing with this pseudo-fame
Feels like a burdensome shame
In order to listen to people
I have to hear them talk
But I fall into a deep hole
When their ignorance is written in chalk
Easily erased
But also easily traced
Yet not so easily faced
Until we're easily replaced
By the voices of our oppressors
Promising to alleviate the pressure
If we'll take a position that's lesser
And never ask them to be a confesser

Each electorate
Must be kept separate
And must be made desperate
So take away their voices
That should limit their choices
The rich want to be molding the clay
So they say to touch it you'll have to pay

I can't sit here and stand it
This particular predicament
That's beyond my bandwidth
Eating this **** sandwich
Given by a grand witch
So I add the name capitalist
To my ******* list
Which they seem to agree with
They rationalize you have to be an ******* to survive
They explain in business that's the only way to thrive
Yet get upset when I call them the biggest ******* alive

The Internet can do infinite good
Yet it is minimized and misunderstood
The faithless fathom
It as a nameless chasm
Made inside our rage filled cabins
But they refuse to see the connections
The healthy introspection
And historical corrections
They'd rather use deflection
Mentioning mundane memes
Or divisive digital teams
They see the shell
But not the turtle
They put us in hell
With a data girdle

Everybody has the same capability to add to the Internet
So they should have equal capacity to use the Internet
Sometimes our economic systems make us act counterintuitively
To what is fundamentally needed by our species
Something humanity has never had before
A comprehensive brain that can connect and inform us all
We've seen money corrupt the minds of humans
Let's not let it corrupt the mind of humanity