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1h · 18
Our Fantasy
When the livable earth
Has cast it’s die,
And our fiat currency
Has buried us
In it’s meaningless fantasy,
Will what’s left behind
Be enough?
7d · 80
Archie Bunker
Oh these days, living in a caricatures ink,
Where extremes become normal each day,
I turn on the TV and can’t help but think,
It seems Archie Bunker has gotten his way.
Crowing “Those were the days” with ironic flourishes,
An anti-hero, imperfect, a misguided clown,
Meant to shine light on our cultural skirmishes,
Not to be held up as the toast of the town.
The cult of ignorance has built a platform
On top of our lizard brain prejudice fears.
Sneering “pass the buck” if you fail to perform,
“Idolize my fame, and villainize your peers.
Pay no attention to evidence you see,
And whatever you do, just don’t blame me.”
I wrote this one a number of years ago. It seems so relevant and I felt it deserved a reshare.
Nov 8 · 42
Blood and Bond
Michael S Nov 8
“The blood of the covenant
Is thicker than the water of the womb”

Whenever I die
This shall be etched on my tomb.
For family we have,
Should be family we choose.
Nov 7 · 67
Counting
Michael S Nov 7
Measure your worth
One zero at a time.
Before the decimal
The American way.
Nov 7 · 187
Save Your Prayers
Michael S Nov 7
When the hardships you helped write
Slowly start to slide into your life

Don’t pray for me
I don’t want you by my side.

Save your prayers
To justify every dark impulse
We all saw coming.
Nov 5 · 99
Déjà vu
Michael S Nov 5
When this dust settles
This rift between us
Will fester and ooze
And there will be nothing left to do
But make fake conversation
To fill the awkward silence,
As we pretend we share values.
And the realization of Déjà vu will hit,
That this isn’t the first time,
But will it be the last?
Oct 28 · 28
Yelling
Michael S Oct 28
Yelling is my failure
To understand
That you’re not an extension of me.
As my  inward anger bursts out
Only to be squelched
By the disappointment
In your eyes
Oct 28 · 31
The Enemy Within
Michael S Oct 28
It’s easy to see the enemy within
In your silver mirrored reflection
poisoned tendrils reveal paper skin
That’s apparent upon inspection.
Oct 25 · 26
Unsaid
Michael S Oct 25
We can sit and and talk
And there’s no conversation,
Just hollow words filled with empty sentiment
Concealing what’s left unsaid,
Except by our actions,
That scream
Oct 16 · 68
Hope Diminished
Michael S Oct 16
I should not be surprised by the hypocrisy,
It’s not hidden, it’s as thin as a veil,
Over eyes that look but refuse to see
The forked tongue and serpents tail.
Honor is weak and integrity frail
Poisoned by lies and strangled by fear,
Bargained like Faust at a crossroad sale,
Cheaply exchanged for something unclear.
One mans dream becomes another’s tear
Common ground as fertile as salted earth,
Dead as Christ at the tip of Longinus’ spear
Hemorrhaging but without hope for rebirth.
Hope, like a waning a moon grows dark
The Future unclear down this path we embark
Wrote this one a few years ago and it still feels relevant.
Oct 13 · 29
Autumn
Michael S Oct 13
The wheel turns as summer greens turn yellow
And we see, as in life, there is beauty in death
Bursts of Fall bombast, settle on earths pillow,
A harbinger of new life waiting to draw breath
Oct 12 · 23
Faithful
Michael S Oct 12
I used to pray
For the typical things.
Serenity, peace, equality,
the health of a sick loved one.
But then I noticed no one ever answered.
Not mine anyway.
But I see the types prayers that are,
In the savage proclamations of the
….Faithful.
And I realize why
I used to pray
Oct 12 · 25
Fire
Michael S Oct 12
We can smell the smoke
And we can see the fire
Then we start to choke,
While we stoke the pyre.
Oct 11 · 19
Time travel
Michael S Oct 11
I travel through time, across vast distance.
My minds eye, immune to physical laws
Through my senses, I transport, in an instance
To places and people my memory draws.
In bitter sweet detail past and present combine
People and places I’ve long since been shown
The memories that made me project in my mind
A movie, somehow animated but rigid as bone.
Spread thin as a spiders web across time
Delicate silken threads, strong but fleeting
Breaking on the breeze as each hour chimes
Fading as distant twinkling light energy depleting.
It’s true, as they say, you can’t go back home,
To names and places etched on tombstones
Oct 10 · 35
The Grind
Michael S Oct 10
Today I awoke, and the world seemed broken.
Another pound of flesh to the landlords and banks,
The real masters to whom we’re beholden.
A grimacing smile tinged with blood is my thanks.
One offer after another, we just can’t refuse
A diagnosis away from disaster most days.
Accept this as normal, embrace the abuse
We’ve sold out, we all owe, we all pay.
It is possible that one day, if you work hard
You can share more of this wonderful pie,
Just look up your sleeve, you’ll find that card
that suckers believe is there, ‘til they die.
But don’t give up hope, I’m sure it’s all fine,
40 more years of grinding may leave enough time
Oct 9 · 69
Night Lights
Michael S Oct 9
Silent street lights,
Like galaxies in fields of black
The night watchers fight
But dark fights back
Each tentative flicker of life
Here against long odds
Convinced that their strife
Is the will of the Gods
Oct 8 · 53
Contrails
Michael S Oct 8
Every day when I walk I look up to the sky
And I wonder, where are they going tonight?
Carried on the contrails of planes passing by,
I dream of where I might go on that flight.
I ask, how did I wind up in this peculiar land?
My passport home, where I feel I’m a stranger
Where proverbial ground moves right where I stand,
I can’t shake this feeling of impending danger.
I look to the contrails, and I just want to fly,
But, wherever they go, I just won’t belong,
Then ... another contrail catches my eye,
And into my daydreams again I am drawn
I wonder if there’s ever a place I’ll call home
Nowhere, or anywhere the contrails might go.
Oct 7 · 31
The Artists Voice
Michael S Oct 7
We sing hopeful songs, in which we muse
Of the crack where the light gets in,
Or trees of green and skies of blue
Ironically, revealing the sadness within.
We paint beautiful scenes, in which we show
Clouds and vistas full of happy accidents
But, from an artists inspiration it’s hard to know
If it’s joy in their brush, or if turmoil presents.
With complex verse of poetry and prose
In stories that tell of our hopes and dreams
Are the inside voices that few others know
Poured out on paper, covering up screams.
An artists voice reveals a piece of their soul
Showing angels and demons shared by us all.
Oct 7 · 62
Faith in Humanity
Michael S Oct 7
I can’t seem to find the scriptures that state
“Care only about yourself, but not others.”
On what page are we commanded to hate,
Which proverb advises to make people suffer?
Show me where it says to worship the dollar,
What passage directs us to trample the poor,
On what page can I find Gods favorite color,
What chapter tells us how to keep score?
Which holy verse permits genocide and war,
Where can I read that telling lies is okay,
Where is it written who’s life is worth more,
Which chapter says it’s alright to betray?
I don’t know the answers, perhaps you do,
Just pick a passage that’s convenient to you.
Oct 6 · 31
Valley of Hope
Michael S Oct 6
In frozen headwaters on mountains high, 
The Colorado flows from icy peaks 
through canyon walls that climb to the sky,
telling tales of time when no one speaks. 
With fury, white capped rapids flow,
bringing life to the valley where mankind hopes 
for the abundance that green orchards grow, 
in the shadow of loss on Storm Kings slopes. 
Humanity meets nature’s relentless wrath, 
just as water yields to earth and stone.
With time, carving out its determined path
in canyons where strength and sorrow are sown.
Oct 5 · 21
Click Happy
Michael S Oct 5
Nothing pleases the pundits more
than seeing blood in the streets.
Where their wolf howls are drowned
by our crescendo of bleats,
In the mad scramble for the adulation of -
click$
Oct 5 · 19
The Others
Michael S Oct 5
It always starts with the others.
Faceless anecdotes
Named only by our fear
of the dark places we dare not go.
Lest the light should shine -
Back on us.
Oct 4 · 44
The Game
Michael S Oct 4
We’re told we should hate each other
And we oblige faithfully.
Outraged at our audacious neighbor,
Who we fault shamelessly.
In ignorant bliss of our part in the game,
Like sacrificial pawns -
Are we excused from the blame?
Oct 3 · 17
Dark Escape
Michael S Oct 3
We seek escape,  
Into imagined worlds.
Where darkness contrasts
heroes and villains,  
Like stars against the black sky.
And we find brief respite  
from the serpent’s fangs,
Lazily hidden,
behind a disquieting smirk.
And we can imagine  -
If for just a few fleeting moments -
We needn’t be enemies.
Oct 2 · 21
Innocence and Burden
Michael S Oct 2
Quietly watching miniature people
As I wait in the line to pick up mine
Crossing guards standing watch like a steeple
As tiny voices tell tales of their time.

Hands gently engulfed in protective mitts
And smiles of those relieved at weeks end
I muse to myself as I idly sit,
What story awaits me as I turn the bend?

A grand hero’s welcome surely awaits!
As I contemplate my day, so mundane
Wondering when I succumbed to life’s weight
An impostor! Lost in this grown-up’s game.

A deep breath releases my burdened mind
For stories about to regale our ride.
Inspired as I was in line to pick up my daughter from school.
Oct 2 · 56
Semigloss Memories
Michael S Oct 2
I ponder as I look at this photograph,
This odd sense of sadness and loss.
I see it there, in my frozen laugh
Parts of myself in the framed semigloss.

Pictures that capture the profound moments
Filled with the joys and sadness of life.
Faces and places that no longer know us,
Locked in memories and flashes of light.

Each paper window shows pieces I left.
The smell of Christmas chestnuts in Rome,
A patio view of the Kenyan sunset,
Or the hum of jet engines heading home.

Like puzzle fragments thrown on the floor,
An entire life scattered so wide,
Completing a picture I can’t hope to restore
In jagged pieces that prove I’m alive.

Such is the toll expensed with each day,
In each memory we capture is a gift,
And tomorrow should feel the loss of today,
In faded photos that evidence we lived.
Oct 1 · 20
Nostalgia’s Gift
Michael S Oct 1
Home’s not made from brick or mortar.
It’s not some place I hang my coat.
It’s that feeling I get when you walk in the door,
That makes the words catch in my throat.

It’s not some random town on forms,
Or where I spent warm summer nights,
It’s the sound of your quiet, peaceful snore
I can only hear when you’re by my side.

Home’s not some happy memory,
Fondly recalled from long ago.
For it’s nostalgia’s gift that lets me see
Home’s not a place to which I go.

It’s you - that calms my frantic mind,
Where I find that centered peace.
You’re the only place I know I’ll find,
The pressures of the world at last -
release.
I spent this last summer working on the road, and often felt home sick. This one is dedicated to my wife.

— The End —