1
Though still within our infancy,
we strive to thrive, but woefully
we flash and flaunt our 'primacy',
display our trophies pridefully.

Our terra firma ecstasy
destroys survival's harmony,
lays waste to life on land and sea.
Mankind, thy name is vanity!

By doubting Nature's regnancy,
defying laws with levity,
we strain our spheroid's symmetry
(perhaps a fatal fallacy?)

for, swallowed in the 'world of we',
we feed on vain insanity
with thoughts beyond eternity -
so strange when looked at mortally.

No use to seek a remedy
ensconced in ancient prophecy
for if not handled skillfully,
as clay we'll pay the penalty.

                              2
The Moguls rule with cruel decree,
control the crowds like puppetry,
pursuing greed addictively
with no accountability.

The wind, it reeks of Royalty
(awash in waves of perfidy)
while blowing ’cross the peasantry
(eclipsed in clouds of treachery).

The Queen, well steeped in snobbery,
sits, preening proud Her pedigree,
on throne of sculpted ebony
while sipping Sect immodestly;

to sate Her Regal Majesty,
a caviar clad canapé
is served with golden cutlery
by maidens bent submissively.

The King is bailed from bankruptcy
by Knaves who hoodwink artfully
the down-and-outer evictee
who wallows in their lenity.

Forsooth, the Money Monarchy
exalts the dollar dynasty
engaged in highway robbery
by Peacocks plumed in finery.

Yes, Jesters and the Fools agree
to truckle to duplicity
and laugh about it witlessly.
Long live the peon's penury!

                          3
To champion an oddity
(like two times twelve is fifty three)  
one reaches to theology
through paths of circularity.

In bygone trials of travesty
the doubters, draped in blasphemy,
endured the pain and agony
inflicted by the papacy.

Inspired by the Trinity
fanatics bent cosmology
in geocentric fantasy
while Bruno burned for heresy;

and aged women, randomly
accused of wicked witchery
by justice framed in infamy,
were racked and shown no clemency

That epoch of credulity
(when savants fostered sorcery
and practiced ancient alchemy)
arose in dark age quackery

as clerics dripping piety
(while raging, raving rabidly)
pervaded thralled society
with callous inhumanity;

'repent', they bellowed, 'verily,
forsake the world's iniquity,
live lives of want and chastity,
and give your gelt to God through me'.

                    4
The Masters make a mockery
of freedom and democracy
by holding down the uppity,
released from shackled slavery,

now fettered in a factory
else strewn across the Bowery,
still chained in bonds of bigotry,
immersed in seas of poverty.

And colliers, tapping balefully
in sunken-mine solemnity,
yet thrum a mournful monody
some call the digger's elegy.

To children, pale and raggedy
(behind a day of drudgery),
the boss man, oh so gallantly,
bestows a penny, niggardly;

though some are fed (belatedly),
their eyes recede in apathy
while bellies bulge, inflatedly,
with mothers watching, wretchedly.

When met with health adversity
or broken bone infirmity,
the pauper dangles helplessly
with no insurance policy;

and those engulfed in lunacy
are ailing blobs left floating free
in ******-dream obscurity -
a mired madhouse odyssey.

Ignoring mankind's unity,
the rich and poor dichotomy
breeds dismal doomed finality,
eventual nihility.

                        5
Renewing days of chivalry,
wild warriors fighting valiantly
bring freedom neath the gallows tree
while blending blood and burgundy

to toast the slaughtered enemy,
and so convince the colony
to cede with smile on bended knee
and yield her diamonds, silk and tea.

At first they call the cavalry
and then again the infantry,
so proudly primped in panoply,
with arms from finest armory

(embraced in hands so tenderly
bestow benign atrocity) -
and soon atomic weaponry
will extirpate posterity.

                          6
Misusing high technology
(to feed the face of gluttony)
depletes our Rock of energy,
now slowly dying thermally.

Our gadgets breathing CFC
fuel ozone holes' immensity
while cloud bursts, raining acidly,
wilt woods in their entirety,

and rivers, tainted chemically,
polluted biologically,
refill our cups methodically
and drown our souls organically.

Adjusting genes mechanically
may well blot out the bumble bee
annulling fruits' fecundity,
but brings big bucks reliably.

We wager perpetuity
to revel momentarily
in shadow-like obscurity
ignoring the futility,

but if we bet unknowingly
on fickle fate's contingency
and thereby act haphazardly
we're doomed to lose the lottery.

                 7
The modern day bureaucracy
abuses trust egregiously ,
embeds itself in obloquy
and offers no apology.

It paints the past in reverie
to camouflage the tendency
to strip away our privacy
which paves the path to tyranny.

With earlobes lurking furtively
that listen surreptitiously,
and eyeballs peering piercingly
we've lost cerebral sovereignty,

and those who dare to disagree
must hide away in secrecy
else crowd a black facility
(with water board anxiety).

                  8
Yes, sans responsibility,
our marble in this galaxy
will crumble in catastrophe
ere ever reaching puberty…

The most dedicated, obedient, one who rings bell,
One mighty who formulates sentient of time shell
By ringing school bell, making us aware, alert and knell.
Vijay, our peon, a smart, vigilant but never did yell
At teachers or students who bugged in room or cartel.
Fair looking Vijay is a joyous lad who got never expel;
Nor did he remain quiet in vespers nine to spread his spell.
Caring, gentle, cherishing, poor but self-efficient in nutshell
Can be told about him in this Monorhyme – describing well?

Gliding in air
was an eerie delightful hue
hanging high above violet and blue,
for eons no one had knew,
the peon pest probing around
the howling zoo,
rhyming and roaming
hiding and hoping
flighty the ronin
ran,
groping every moment he could come to
as a token to his gallantry
the guidance to his apathy
decided to devise his only strife
to live happily

Ethel echidna
had a date wid Pike,
a fiiine!
young hedgehog
who be doin' the backpack

she got n' egg
ya see bout a rave
up in the mountains
in a black cathederic cave
doof doof in the dandenongs

d' message said
up dee track
where the ding dongs
don't dare follow
round d' hollow n'
up the back

Ethel she preened
and she polished
the dreds down her back,
clickety, click, clack.
painted her claws
a fetching shade
of orange neon
all watched on by
Pike the backpack peon

then to the doof
dey departed
at a fast shuffel
leaving behin
barely a ruffle
in the burrowed air
they followed
d'directions to
d' right section
dis dey knew
by d' sound of
d' massive party
goin down

on payin d' dosh n'
getten d' mark
off dey went
inta the fray
***** boy mumbled
"woyhoy gotcha!"
when he saw who
was providin
the goodmuse vibing
up ona stage
Jagger the emu
was a struttin'
with Ringo the dingo
on drums an bongos
while Hendrix
the numbat riffed d' strat
an  Entwhistle
d'frogmouthed owl
grooved on his gibson
wid ***** left stage staring

Ethel got bizzy
check'n out the dancefloor
lookin for bling or moves wid a sting
perhaps a little ******* headbangin

well down
at the southdoor
trouble was brewin'
foul words
was spewin between
d magpie n seagull crews
till the bouncers,
kanga & roo
hustled dem
all outside for a brew

up near the stacks
Pheobe the lizard
was flashin
a matchin
frill n grill ensemble
while Stan, her man
was fillin his bill
at the buffet table
as only a pelican can
at the grub bar
sat the kookaburra trio
Max,Tom, Deccy
havin a speccy
at tha lady
cockatoos n' galahs,
givina chuckle
at the bruhaha
they had created
comin flyin from
near n' far to this
surberb n spectacular
festival of fauna
"tho hot as a sauna
best dis year sofah"

jus inside
d' recovery corner sat
Horn a blue tongue lizard
feelin a bit pukey n' flat
den dere was
Kayla n' Jac
a pair o koalas
who now be zonin
from d eucalyptus
dey been a chewen
alldayz

outaback time it's awastin
with dis watchin n waitin

Ethel hit the floor
wherever
she booggied,
grooved or h-banged
she got a big crowd,
given her ground
to shake
her dreds around
cause dat girl
is dangerous
wid her dredlocks man,
to which Zach
the one eyed wombat
can well attest

Now not bein a dancer
***** got lonely
so looked upa chat
with the rest
of d' backpackin crowd
he swapped recipes
for green brownies wit
Boomer the orangatang,
harvest spots wit
Goth the friutbat,
Hamish de otter,
quiet de globetrotter,
did giv ***** some tips
about surfin rips
furder down de coast.

so dey shimmyed
an dey shammyed,
dey talked
an dey squawked
till d' old sun
came out to play
den dey wandered
and dey wended
back down
d' track to d' town
to sleep d' day away.

as to our Ethel
and *****,
well
dey crawled
gingerly
inta their bed,
they cuddled
an dey clicked,
dey kissed
an dey snicked
and dey
blew dey
selfs away

Who Am I?

I am a boy and a man.
I am a son, a brother, a cousin, a nephew, and a grand child.
I was a boyfriend, a fiancé, a husband, and an in-law.
I am a bachelor.
I am surrounded and abandoned.
I am a family man and a loner.

I am a homemaker and a handyman.
I wear the apron and the tool belt.
I am a neat freak and a slob.
I am an amateur contractor and a contracted amateur.
I am a dumpster diver, a recycler, and a decadent waste.
I am a glutton, a scavenger, and a scrapper.

I am a friend and an enemy.
I am fun and an annoyance.
I am a lover and a hater.
I am creepy, cruel, and harsh.
I am tender, loving, and inviting.
I have a foul mouth and tender lips,
Drenched in jagged, soft-serve words.

I am a painter, sculptor, draftsman, sketcher, character designer, photographer, graphic designer, fashion designer, kitbasher, customizer, and crafter.
I am a reader, a writer, and a poet.
I am the Jail Baby, Ryan & Lisa, The Phoenix, The AntiFather, and The HEYMAN!
I compose symphonies of visual and intangible imagery.
I bring form to thought.
I destroy,
I create.
I am an artist.

I am a geek, nerd, freak, and otaku.
I have been punk, goth, prep, white trash, and metrosexual.
I wear glasses,
But only as a sick joke.
I am beautiful and ugly,
Clean and *****.
I am unique.
I am predictable.
I have changed, but am still the same.

I am a techie,
An electronic ******.
I am cutting edge and old school.
Digitally signed and sealed.
I am analog and obsolete.

I am an adrenaline addict.
I can chill, maybe slow,
But never relax.

I am blue collar, tradesman, and service industry.
I am peon and ****** on.
Oh, but I have done the ******* too!
I have been hired and fired,
Bought and sold.
I have worn the uniform,
I have said, “**** the man!”
I am the proletariat,
I am in charge.

I am a student, dropout, and teacher.
I am class clown and teacher’s pet.
I have learned, forgotten, and taught,
But never learned my lesson.
I don’t listen to what I’m told,
But always do what I tell.

I am a genius,
I am an idiot.
I have intelligence, but often lack the intel.
I am naïve, but wise.
I am right and wrong.

I have philosophies and ideas,
But no religion.
I have desecrated and blasphemed,
Prayed and praised.
I have lusted, envied, and coveted.
I am guilty and innocent,
Pure and soiled,
Good and bad.

I am a driver and a passenger.
I am an explorer and a shut-in.
I am wild and free,
Caged and stifled.
I was warmly wrapped in my blanket,
But burned through it.

I have rode, climbed, and conquered.
I  stood still.
I jumped in.
I have fallen and been defeated.

I have been abroad,
I have been nowhere.
I have drifted.
I have settled.
I have led and been led.
I have been in and out,
Here and there,
Around and AWOL,
On the run and trapped.
But, not everywhere.

I have applied,
I have procrastinated.
I have worked my fingers to the bone,
I have slept it off.

I have fought and fled.
I have quit.
I have endured.
I am a winner and a loser,
A champ and a chump.

I am fake,
I am real.
I have lied, cheated, and stole.
I have been honest, fair, and generous.

I am selfish and selfless.
I am a gift giver, gift wrapper, and gift taker.
I am a thief and a philanthropist.

I am insecure and confident,
Confused and absolutely sure.
I am proud and ashamed.
I am complicated and convoluted,
But simple to please.

I have blind faith and guarded suspicion
I have secrets,
But lie rarely.
I accept everyone,
I trust nothing.

I have pointed the finger,
Only to turn it on myself.
I have held grudges and forgiven.
I have trusted and misguided.
I have been Judas and Jesus.

I am a maniac,
I am sane.
I have been strong and weak.
I can keep it together,
But prefer to break it apart.

I have bled.
I have healed.
I have been abused and neglected,
Coddled and protected.

I have been kissed and punched;
Hunted, wanted, and arrested,
Ignored, overlooked, and invisible.

I have loved and lost,
Lived and learned.
I am a soldier of misfortune and opportunity.

I have blended in.
I have stood out.
I have stood up.
I have backed down.
I have been backed into a corner.
I have all the space in the world.

I have seen, interpreted, and perceived,
I have ignored, dismissed, and been blind.
I hunger, want, and need…
I am satiated and content,
But never at peace.

I have been misunderstood and underestimated.
I have been put down, put up, pushed away, and let in.
I have been known,
But never entirely.

I have raged, cried, smiled, trembled, and laughed.
I have been depressed.
I have been happy.
I have been suicidal. I have felt death.
I have been lost and found.
I have been broken, then fixed,
Stitched, yet glitched,
Scarred, but whole.
I am alive.


I took the chance,
I let the moment slip.
I walked the straight and narrow,
I ran down the road not taken.
I dream; some whole, some shattered.
I go with the flow, but don’t let the waves take me.

I am shards and reflections,
Machinations and reactions.
I am translucent pieces and parts,
Assembled and disheveled.
I am the big picture still focused on the details.

I am the sum total of heredity and experience.
I am not,
I am more.
I am everything and nothing.
I am a walking contradiction.
I am human.

I tried to be you,
But didn’t know what that meant.
I am me,
It’s all I know.

Who are you?

You are black; we put you through that white school so you won’t be a stereotype; but I hate it out here; they’re expecting me to be this and do that but that’s not me; you can be whoever you want; I want to be grey; great black leaders and their followers struggled so you won’t have to; but what’s a leader if he isn’t reluctant; they had the support of thousands and all i have is you; you always have God; have faith and he’s there; I lost my faith long ago; I am just a number, and when I end, I will be forgotten like half my family and the war that kept them there; as much as I differ from myself, I am still the same as you; I am who I want to be not what old people want me to be; I just want to be treated caucasian; I try to move on but B.E.T. and Worldstar drags me back.; call me a Jaden but a culture as complex ours confuses me, so treat me caucasian; pure as a fresh start, I won't get any glares if I walk by a gated community; i also love being black; the music I listen to could only be black; never let anybody tell you how to feel, but that’s childish; what I think will make people see me as different but if I was caucasian, i could say what I want; be your own human is only something yeezy could have taught me; what I think now could only be temporary just like the vapor; I just want fit in the box you offer because my ideas I carry are irrational, obscure and should not escape from me; I could say what I want now but it’ll cost me my life later; I love being black: we all have a past to fill twenty million books but no one wants to check it out; I love being grey; stupid dumb teen with nothing good to say; I love being white; my words have enough meaning to have a writer to ask me for words; I see and have every future I could imagine yet I have no future; I'm not a gangster, I don't play basketball so what do I do?; I can be better than myself and I really mean that; I am the Internet with all of its weirdness but I am black; the good posture and the way I greet you is caucasion; what makes me what I am?; the person I want to be isn't what the world needs; like the open road all possibilities are endless and I'm taking all the backroads on my skateboard; free as if I'm on air but that won't last; man the world keeps me confined without telling me the charges; no, no, no, no, they can't feel what I feel; why? why? why? why?; I remember when I was important, that I was a friend; now I'm just a minority that was just imported; I am vapor; as temporary as I am, I will leave no trace of my existence; I am just another number in some census; if being black means having life without you then I am just a figure of pigmented cells; someday I'll mean something; someday I'll be something; the door is there and I'm opening before opportunity knocks; I am just a piece of paper that shows I am competent; 12 years of school and what else is there for me; I am annoying without saying a word and I can move you by just living; only if you know what I think; black is the Africa I don't want to know; there is nothing there for me or any where; just a ***** or am I a person?; the water is tasteless but has a mountain of favors as a caucasion; I don't know; its cold outside and I don't know what to wear; the world is cold; full of life and still desolate; the world is black but is best experienced if you're colorblind; the world is cold and all this ice leaves me blinded; people give me a topic that limits me; fenced in my own jail cell; laughed at for your amusement; put me down for your enjoyment; leave me alone; I want to go home, no ones there to guide me home; school isn't what I thought it would be; life isn't as good as I thought it would be; leave me alone; leave me be; I don't need but I want human interaction; I don't know; I only know how to be black; it doesn't matter what I know; better if you decide; better if you choose; I am black and I am wrong; I am black and as temporary as vapor; my idea black isn't your idea white but you sure think so; you can be proud but hate yourself; no one taught me that; I wasn't brainwashed; I saw a better world being grey that treats each other white and makes culture like black; that's cool; oh but like I don't say anything and all of this has no meaning; that's cool; I am quiet and I have no voice; I have an i.d. but I have no identity; my name isn't copyrighted so what's so special; I wish to pitch myself to the world again but as my voice shakes, so does their heads; I am only human let me make mistakes; being black is one of them I guess; yeah I could pilot your ideals; I could follow your plan but what is my purpose?; I contradict myself and I have no point; such a waste that is; such; a; waste; you have no value to us and as your employer, I terminate you; ha!; that get rids of that peon; yeah he was just dead weight; good call! hahahaha; they're **** ups but they're right; what's next for me?

you have come
to me,
this early evening

with
a need,
to worship
at my *******.

and who am i
to deny a man,
in his need

you bare
my udders
to the world
and sigh
in adoration.

before your
thumbtip
traces the
bluevein river
that arose during
the suckling season,
years ago
and has never subsided

you are fascinated by it
for me it is a blemish
upon the milky hills
your where your fingertips
trek and wander
those same hills rise now to
ripple and bump under
your roving sheperding skin

and your tongue asks,
seeks, direction in the vale
between
with pressing lips
and murmuring breath

that thumb
intrepid leader
of the pack
has  found a peak
and with rubbing
caress has claimed it
for his own

not to be outdone
your lips grasp
and flag the other one

but be careful
my wonderful
mountaineers
i feel
an earthquake coming on

as you quest and worship
at the two peaked temple

i  sigh and mewl and groan
some goddess i am
when i am the one who begs
you the peon for mercy

but soon the peon
shall become the god
and the goddess,
a pilgrim.

then i begin
a  sacred sojuorn,
in the southern regions
as i  worship
and love and own.

A toe-tapper with dapper deities dancing amongst my dreams, whilst whispering the seeds of hidden keys

Interloper of the thieves

Charmer of the fleas

A Powerful peon, seceding from the teams

Daring to believe in the sea, swallowing the cities in its grief

Dare to achieve the belief of flight and fly away

Contemplate and fall in over thought

Just do not

Stop

Doing the undo-able

Fate is renewable

Outwardly controllable

In what you think you see in the deplorable hues from the hopeful news of better days, lead astray in satisfaction to the complaints of saint-less ways

I debate creating another other place, and drifting away through space, but hey, maybe its a phase and i'm just late to the show

Last to know your nothings

Im [Spinning]

In place

Stuck in skirmish of working this
retail

I'm intricately plotting my escape with detail

Now see well
it's time for an alternative path
One that I believe, achieve then kick ***

This ***** whack
working hourly wages
I'm Turning time into sand,
with people who won't make it

Reality is a series of obstacles
Let's face it

My sanity is slipping like
Like **** on black latex

How can I ******* break this
I've become a statistic
a realistic typical stereotype

I fantasize on the daily
wishing I can take Ariel flight

How can I steer clear of these mundane communications
slab-faced coworkers &
there basic conversations

I'm tired of it, I'm tired of it
I'm done with it...
No more giving a ****
Now it's time to resist
These urges of being someone
Who settles & simply quits

I seek to strive for more
My motivation is too legit
My skills are beyond eons
I will conquer with fist
No more being a peon
Dance then do a flip
Celebrate like I'm Deion

For this year will test
my patience & true potential
to many years guiding this pencil
Into oblivion

Blank spaces and synonyms
Wordplay over wordplay
Metaphors for my residents  
Letters create earthquakes
Echoes create resonance

I from art in sentences
This residue is my evidence

I guess you work
Until you die
In the meantime
Waste away on tablets
Sell yourself
Until you're dry
Only hope for life
The love of another
Rather than of all others
You work and then you cry
Because you realize
That all you ever did
Was make someone else money

I wish my name was Ryan or chase and I had no hobbies or interests outside of smashing hoes and the gym.
I wish I could just eat Panera everyday and drink with my bros and go to Peru with my daddy's money. I wish I had all the connections and sure-set entrance into the firm
I wish I could meet some newage ***** named McKayla with a flower sleeve who listens to imagine dragons and Bobby eilish and have some kids. I wish she'd cheat on me with Kevin and take all my money and then divorce me and accuse me of **** and send me to prison where I get ***** too. I wish my sons grew up to be junkies and overdosed on fentanyl. I wish my country became some culturless ******* devoid of value and meaning and was a consumerist nightmare and I worked like a peon for a bleak future. I wish I knew how to make spaghetti. I'm a ******. I wish I was gay amd cared about Taylor swift or popular media. I wish I had a loaded gun so I could go to the gun range like a normal sane practioner of the second amendment. I wish I could be god and make rainbows. I will stop now. It's so boring
Lol lol lol lol lol

I've studied the chess table and its consequent game. I know every inch of every square and what each can provide without doubt. I have seen the creatures of this world conflicting in their natural habitat, like an audience to a drama, watching them devour each other until the math proves the premise on a single side. I've moved according to their stride, like a dancer's partner, gliding across this checkered ballroom floor until the truth sets in stone. It's simple dialectics, a move is made and then, from the other, another follows. White conflicts with Black and Black counteracts, a perfect unity of opposites. Never jumping ahead of themselves, one piece at a time, it's a rising exposition from White's first movement forward, a heat creeping in increments on the desert surface. They're each a step ahead at every moment, each a worthy opponent for the other. The cold, morning mirage becomes blistering afternoon and only once does the volcano erupt from boiling sand, truly agape in a fiery victory. Do you hear that power in the distance?

A horn bellows and I move in the wake of the Divine Voice. I am but a cleric for his queen, yet the king requests my service in these grave times. This foreboding feeling leaves me truly afraid for my life, however, like a snowy dove's feather, I am called to the wind with my brethren towards the direction of the evil swamps. God has blessed our devout; the witchcraft of the Black Kingdom will surely fall to His mystic weaponry.

A farmer's strong-hand makes no strongman in the abysmal depths of this marsh. Tilling the land for fallen comrades, the breath of the Black Eye leaves me entrenched in a dripping terror, coating my lungs in a bitter molasses. I contain my sultry pearl of abandonment in the Clam of Defeat, knowing the king's life to be the insurmountable jewel I must truly protect. The following torture would be an endless excruciation heard from every corner of the world.

From afar this looking tower I notice an encounter of mild defeat. A white knight on horseback casts his sword into the chest of a young peon boy standing guard for the King as he leaves the gates of the Black majesty. The boy cries out and the embers from the magical weapon envelope him in ash. The king needn't make haste, after all, the armored fool is frozen in awe, staring at the remains of his powerful encounter with the child. The half daemon looks to and fro as he skims across the moated bridge. He grabs for the golden kryss at his waste and slowly stabs between the break in white armor, freezing it solid. The blood runs quick on the fallen honor.

She's traveled far from her black caging, ripping down from the sky like a dragon. The wind blows a bastion out of the sand in my protection, but she ignites it with her icy breath, stagnating all those inside, moving ever closer to my advantage. My last warring cleric triangulates a teleportation to the town square, fighting a harrowing defeat that lends her to me. His bravery leaves her chained in physical combat with a half deity, however, she smirks as if the war is already won. I tighten my gauntlets for battle as the flying arrow passes my helmet. Oh my great men of war, your weight is on the wrong side of the world. Now it spins out of control. Eclipsed in madness, I send the eruption beneath her, encircling her in rising doom. She cannot escape her molten grave, neither does the arrow shaft merely graze my heart. Everything is hazy. Everything is dark. It is late in the hour, hearing the Devil's whisper say:

“Checkmate.”

It's all that matters you poor ****
Now step away from my gold ring, menace

Nothing makes you feel so
[small and helpless] 
than not having enough change
to buy an outfit 
one that'll show the world you aren't 
passé.
Nothing out there can make you feel so [stupid & less]
Than having to pick the "cheap one"
Forced; *****; 
And then you go home...
You think you've escaped
You turn up a ****** radio
Watch some show you videotaped -
But it still persists. The knowing.
You're nothing and you know it
Day in day out, you, the rabble
Peasant peon misfit,
Nothing makes you feel so 
[tiny & invisible]. 
$$$ is all that matters. 

you, anti-tycoon
you don't have any money
the demon of noon
is coming for you.

It’s not okay,  that your friends came to ask me what my name is, and then they tell me that you love me.
I don’t I will never understand how you just like someone without even knowing the basics of them.
You stupid person, I am trying not to judge you, but are a immature little ****,
Who thinks getting facebook display picture with shades and ultra attitude quotes is cool,
But I don’t like south park, I’m a Simpsons person, you have liked this page called I hate books,
Well, honey I am nothing without books, you like to quote Eminem’s old song, "hello people of the earth, look at me, I am the boss", funny how that’s you only rapper you know you peon,
And I don’t like dragon ball z, what are we in class 5 again? You have like 1000 friends on facebook, which screams desperate to me
And I don’t want to be ****** and rude, but you could have told me yourself, that like me or any alternative, I didn’t want to hear that from all your friends giggling at me the weird way, you could have manned up a bit ;
It’s sad to me you actually don’t understand the meaning of girlfriend, you think they are for a week only and to boast about it to your friends that you have got a senior girlfriend
That the most funniest thing is that you are only a year younger than me but how it feels like to me that you are 3 years younger, and to add to that,
You think you are such a stud, well you look like ****, news flash.

It's odd to be a peon.
To sit in a grey Office.
Blue tucked in button up.
Red tie.
My opinion is irrelevant.
It's hard, it's rough.
It's not safe.
I am disposable.
All face to face is false.
My red tie doesn't help me.
It only stands me up.
I look left and find a man
both dressed and sitting down.
Whiskers ***** from his chin.
Teeth behind them smile.
A bit lip, a burnt tongue.
From the coffee on his desk.
He doesn't seem to have a soul left.
This cubicle has leeched it away.
I too have bit lip and burnt tongue.
From coffee on my desk.
I too am dressed and sitting down.
Am I doomed to a similar fate?
I wear the costume, blue shirt, grey slacks.
I look like I fit in.
But I add a flair to my uniform.
White and pink bunny ears.
Not too silly
Just enough.
My foot thumps the ground at excitement for my call.
My nose twitches at the smell of strangers as they pass.
I may not nibble carrots or hop around grass.
But I'm the call center bunny.
I'd much rather be different.
It feels wrong to fit in after so many years of being different.
I need to be looked at, laughed at, loved.
I can't be cookie cutter.
But I can cut cookies and hand them out.
Being ignored just felt so wrong.
If i do this right. They'll remember me.

Sea of money, green wave it crashes...
...take it peon, take all your lashes!
Homeowners, taxpayers, nation, investor,
my hands on it all, everything; for I am molester!

Ideology, philosophy and ego,
entering your hearts, your minds; the Sea Goat!
All of it for my class, the world is our pile...
...now I choke off the spigot and wither you Gen-tile!

Money subjugation, adorn it with laurels...

Banker am I!

The man of no morals!

previously
i would of said
love was the purpose
there was a heart to this universe
and it circulated
meaning
to every extremity

but now i wake
to toil
silver and gold pockets
finally a son to profit

my father was right
we're all just a number
and we cant add up to
lofty goals
or life plans
you're not a doctor.
i'm not a police man.

dream
no more my sweet
those are shores
we'll never meet

ithaca
is no more
and never was
and i'm not the kind of king to be waiting on
a prince, a pauper, a peon
i'm only a man in an argument with God
but its a problem
that is often
never solved

life is getting
what you dont want
and making the best of disappointment

oh penelope
it may be 10 years
or twenty
but i'll make it back!
i swear i'm coming back!

with money in bags
and cloudy eyes

'how're you?'

'oh, you know me
i'm making
it by
and by'

'but you're not you
you're not you anymore'

and we'll both get by
not really happy
but, hey, thats life

maybe one day
i'll wreck upon your shore
and your suitors will meet me
and my sword

i can string a bow
and keep my word

all at once

oh penelope
wont you wait for me?

wont you unweave
this burial shroud?

because
i am not
no no no
i am not
dead
yet.

I prostrate myself before thee
With a sheepish plea, to no longer be,
Because I swear to you, I’ll never foresee.
So you smile and you laugh and you cast a man back
Find love in all you see? Empty words!
You never spoke to me.
This ground, it trembles
With fury it quakes
And how the knees do fall to curse this fate.
You’re the face of the faceless
The crux of all matters
The infinity of wisdom
Yet all you’ve ever given
Are the gusts of wind,
From flightless wings.
You don’t stir or shift,
Your distance? It’s a gift.
Your tongues of flame shall here find no domain.
Still you’re still
It’s so hard to breathe
I can’t take a step in this hate you’ve given me.
Now and forever all there shall be,
For you it’s my back, it all you’ll ever see
Payment in kind, need I remind?
But with a nerve that astounds, you turn me around.
Coward you scream, and coward again
Thunder roaring with your violent retort
Worthless peon lost in your wordless poems,
Oh, fate and fairness have never been so close
Rightfully, they’ll coalesce in your ghost.
Furnished with nothing I throw not but rage
You smile and withdraw from within this cage
Adamantine its walls, the door swings closed
My whys and my how’s are all I have left,
You take both with one last quip.
You deserve it.

MINESTRONE NIGHTS (on the summer of 2018)  
              
Deep in the incubus of fantasy
As torrid painter makes its art
Rips a flash of an epiphany
A plaintive whisper of the heart
Hobgoblin summer full of slobber
Beget febrile reveries unkind
As dance character’s macabre
A three-ring circus in my mind
Each minestrone moldy night
When body craves boreal slumbers
Akin cat on hot tin roof I fight
Dank sog my sleep encumbers
Comes morn aft time eternal
Half charged at start of day
Abscond sodden dreams infernal
Tormenting orb is up to play
I was hot before I even knew
Never really did cool down
Too warm again, for morning dew
Vague slumber’d avec frown
Haven't slept for an age or eon
Cadaver tacky to the tepid touch
Arise, trepid to perspire, like peon
Labour in this broil is just too much

©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness 2018 – All rights reserved)

Charity, you say
I should be grateful for a free meal
I earn a “living” wage
No longer a minimum wage peon
Thanks to my unpaid student debt
And yet, still
I eat from food banks

For my lunch break each day
No longer than 30 minutes
I watch others go out to eat
And I eat my PBnJ
That ****** congealed jelly falls mostly into the bag
And I decide it’s not worth the effort

Last night’s dinner:
Another cake or sugar-laden death note
Given graciously.
I just skipped dinner instead

Grateful, I should be
For a week’s worth of food
Only allowed to be rationed once a month

Variety is foreign to these faith-based organizations
Shelf life is king
Taste and nutrition are optional coincidences

Thanks to them I will never eat another raisin or can of tuna
I am sick of trying to make 2 lbs of ground turkey or a pack of hot dogs stretch two weeks
With 1 lb of rice

I’m grateful
I’m eating
My 5 year old is
Grateful all the way to my rising cholesterol, impending diabetes, and rotting teeth

I make too much for government sponsored insurance
And not enough to pay for what I need
I am the gap generation
Slammed into a stress walled coffin
Between homelessness and eternal devastating debt

Grateful
Because I am overweight and out of shape
Because I don’t look poor and starving
Because I “get” to sit all day behind a desk

All it took was 6 years of letting the government forever make me their indentured servant

Grateful,
That at least I’m not dead on the outside yet

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

THE BILLION YEAR CONTRACT

So I had this boyfriend. I don't really know *why I stayed with him. Except that he was fairly intelligent. He left scientology not longer after I left, I discovered later. But, truth be told, he was NOT attractive to me. He had a lisp. THAT wouldn't have bothered me so much, but he couldn't dance either.... LOL! That was, for some reason, important to me in a man. Always has been. He also had a jaw like a steamshovel and eyes like poached eggs. Oh, well...

Anyway,  he was very excited about a do that was happening up in Phoenix!  There was a brand new ORG!  Scientologese for organization, especially a high echelon one. This Org was the TOP at that time! The Flag Land Base! Located in a once-glamorous resort town, Clearwater, Florida. A place of sugar sand beaches and tropical beauty! There was an Orientation going on, and he wanted me to go with him...

That was the most Fateful night of my life. This FOT (Flag Orientation Tour) was actually a recruitment drive. For the infamous Sea Organization!

When I arrived I was impressed. It was in a conference room at a nice hotel. All the materials they handed me were slickly printed. The only thing that bugged me were the uniforms. The folk not in suit jackets even wore lanyards! That warning sign in my stomach should have told me.... RUN!!! AS FAST AND FAR AS YOU CAN!!! But did I listen? NO! And that was a mistake that cost me 24 precious years of my life. Golden years. Years I could have been in school. College and university. Instead I worked as a peon slave for that CULT. Then 20 years stolen by virulent targeting. TRAGIC!

I stayed. And I was lulled into a false sense of security. The speeches by the various "big-wigs" of FLB didn't start till 9 PM. And lasted till 10:30! Their voices were stern yet sonorous. Hypnotic. They told of the importance and "nobility" of the Sea Org. And the very PINNACLE of importance was the Flag Land Base! in balmy and beautiful Clearwater! Where the BEST and most RESPECTED "auditors" and "trainers" took the adherents of Scientology to the most advanced stage of spiritual growth... OT VIII. SCIENTOLOGY WORKS! YES! YOU, TOO, CAN REACH NIRVANA!

What a bunch of HORSESH-T!!!

Anyway. These guys and gals began to look glamorous to me! With their uniforms and scrambled eggs on their hats...

Then the real kicker. "THEY WERE OUT TO CLEAR THE PLANET. And little miss Cathy Jarvis could be a PART of this Noble Cause. That was it. I bought it. Hook. Line. And SINKER.

Even the hard, pockmarked face of the recruitment officer, nor her beady black eyes, could deter me. I was sleepy by that time, and hardly noticed the Contract I signed was for A BILLION YEARS...

I could LEAVE the "Podunk" town I lived in. Go first to spectacular LOS ANGELES... then to...

*... A NEW LIFE in balmy CLEARWATER FLORIDA!!!

Little peons slave and toil
To afford their bread and oil
Think themselves independent
Enriching landlords with their rent
‘Never mind’ their want to say
‘I’ll soon be on higher pay’
But rich or poor when clock does chime
They see how slight they have of time!
Still they plod on the machine
Ruled by bosses, sly and mean
Stuck in themselves they cannot see
‘Oppression don’t happen to me.
It hits brown folk in lands afar
I’ve a wife, a house, a dog and car!’
But halt ye peon, stood alone
How much of your self do you own?
Naught! The rich man rules your fate
Steals your labour for his estate
By the time you’re thirty, grim and worn
Your dreams are dead, hobbies all gone
Your soul is grey, your hope is lost
To feed a parasite your cost
All for that foolish arrogance
Pushing down those without a chance
You gave your life to corporate *****
Whilst mocking those on benefits?
Ha! How cruel this web of law
And the warped logic you never saw
For all rulers are ******, after wealth and fame
And you got played at their power game.

So pull your head out of your ****
Stand by your fellow, and your class!

-Oh no
  She saunters by
The air stiffens and falls, mountains bow,
               All kowtow, or at least they should
                 -We’re not worthy
      She looks over her dominion
                                          She rules all that she sees
            None standup to contest
                   She has me too, I confess
                                             -I like it
                     She looks through me
Another face
Another peon
Another nothing
                                                                               -HEY!


-…Place your hopes here my lad
-No, I am better than this. She will see ******
LOOK AT ME
           Not another tidbit for the
Proverbial chopping block
     Her neck turns; time stops
  Clocks tick without their tock
        -We get so lonely
        Or is it for her? She tops me
Swivels slowly, no stop
A slow-mo accident waiting to be replayed
        -Oh God please
        -Oh God no
She cuts the room in two, parallel lasers
     Heads
                   roll
                            and
                                    smile,
                           they
             cheer
       for
me
-You got this Tiger
-Steady man, steady
     She sees my eyes with hers
Dull brown against the firing squad
                      -Ready boys! Aim
Her lips part, chest slightly rises loading the bullet
      She locks on her target and she never misses
          A bead of sweat rolls on past
              It asks
-What have you done
     They look to her
-Take the shot!
And she does with a smile
                                                  -*Hey

There is a sinking discomfort at my core
my ego falls into a pit of quicksand, lost forever more;
lost to the lingering sorrow--for tomorrow will be
as it was today: languishing, writhing in emptiness...

To trust the world, my mothers breast,
as if the heart of man were best,
suited to the freedom that nature blessed
her children of the wild quest,
is folly of the highest order:

poverty and disorder
corruption from the roots to the fruits;
and the starving of this world abound
unseen and unnumbered.

To feel hunger, to know the dark dimension of despair;
this the tyranny of society perpetuates upon itself:
to be a pauper, a peon, a peasant, a pleb under the rule of another;
to work as a slave to someone else's cause and convenience.

To be individual instead of indivisible,
to be alright with the starving children in Africa
if it means I can buy new shoes.

Hunger does not begin or end with you.
Hunger is the slave master of a thousand and one kingdoms.
Hunger is the gatekeeper to the kingdom of heaven.
Appease him and the world will know peace.

Soft Spot

Together we make a toxic blend,
Too potent to mend,
Too powerful to end,
Pretend, happiness, waiting for a god send,
Hurt, hope, horror and abuse,
Yet, I call her friend,
Who dangles dollops of devilish emotion,
A dizzying illusion of love,
Opening eyes, I saw clear as day,
Guilting me betrayer the day I sent myself away,
Her venomous words strike my mind bitter,
Bled, bruised, bounced in mental bouts,
Careless whispers caress my cold clouded heart,
Made numb, feeling dumb,
For giving into her another night,
Hindsight, I should’ve tried to fight,
Not let her and indentured demons eat my light,
Wasting another fortnight,
Zero reason to stay a loyal peon,
Each day endless,
every month an eon,
Her word, her law,
A self proclaimed queen,
Adored and feared in esteem,
Using those close,
She lives in a dream,
Bowing to no law, woman or man,
Her wrath boils water into steam,
I blame myself,
Not listenings to red flags sound their alarms,
Created by abuse, lies and emotional self harm,
Her tumbling prickly mind a maze,
Screaming at her demons in empty hallways,
Her partner in crime we poisoned each other,
She’ll stay by your side forever and always,
Crafted chimera we sought another,
Our toxin together brought the most powerful to dismay,
Eyes finally opened,
I began to rue each day,
Feeling more and more horrible,
How could I stay?
Through her I bared many scars,
Yet my mind brings her up a lot,
Though enemy, awful and evil,
Who bore me problems and pain,
She still remains, a soft spot,
Bruised, and remembered with distain,