be happy
that you got to be a drop in this ocean

be fulfilled
if one eye scans your pixeled emotion.

gray and beady-eyed
running along the base board
a morsel of cheese in it's mouth

or

is it a  plastic creature attached
to a cord
guiding you along a pixeled floor

which is it and why do we care

language
language
language

words
they mean things
significant things

whit howland © 2021

I went for a coffee, pen and cigarette
Achieved all but the pen
Emitting pixeled light I sit at my computer once again

Social media intoxicated
to the point of forced regurgitation
I sigh

All the wrongs are posted
made to be right by the book
All the rights are blasted
made to be the crook

Pendulum swings

2020 year of the rat
as we all COVID are egos become fat
heavy with lust
solid in greed

left to our demise
on the great wheel of cheese

Some look to fix
most instigate
2020 Opened Hells Gates

I am not Nostradamus nor
do i claim Quatrain VI

But a Happy Heretic
You keep on a tight leash

Losing teeth and sleep
chewing thru leather
fueled on anti-psychotics I weep

I am constant and do not live in fear
My birthright will shine
Heaven shall appear

For those who fight for good
Go in peace

those that challenge the throne
you soul to never cease

God as my captain just a day in advance
Saturday's all right for fighting

The news is not good news today--
Hide from the wind and run from rain,
A boat on fire, gut sick gun play.
All told, a litany of pain,
And I, perhaps I should feel worse,
Should give anxiety its due,
The medications being cursed.
And yet the sky outside is blue.
I claim no sense of innocence,
While holed up here--a sonneteer,
With lit incense and cupiscence
For that woke fear this craft can't queer,
This horrorshow, this pixeled glow--
Trade winds that blow where words won't go.

i sit with pixeled strangers
wondering if this is
the peak of
my life.
where has time gone.
why am i alone.
will i see you on the
other side.