Rambling

Lost to the maelstrom
stoned; numb to the pain that could allow growth
joining in the ecstasy
branded with the tribal oath

Chosen ones self proclaim
after giving up the option of choice
melt into the pool
losing your own voice

How many fallen
who could have helped this plane
banked virtue in the invisible
to avoid an imagined pain

strength in numbers with no strength
turning and turning fighting progress
the world just burns away

duties abdicated for profit
surely the fertile view at the source
should make you turn away

See it

shining into the grey that is every day
a glint of something that isn’t background noise
it almost wakes you

it has warmth
it calls and you answer
you feel… pulled

it moves and the cold sets in
so you follow
watching the dance

hear it

a song that breaks
the pink noise
that is in your bones every second

not a low roar but not a scream
middle
safe

the song is unsettling
but sensation is welcome
it is something

sing the song
touch the spark

be not grey

Seeing life through lenses that only the poor children have

Third hand Velcro shoes and can’t even see the better halves

Cardboard tube peanut butter and boxed cheese from the federal truck

The church box blue jeans barely blue and a schoolyard that can’t give a fuck

Watching family through lenses of bitter understanding

Scraping by on second hands and the problem is expanding

No mobility but the home that’s crumbling beneath us

Another day Another fight Another bottle of liquid Jesus

One sentenced to a life of rage for crimes committed without his consent

Another left alone in ridicule but bound for self improvement

A dejected one caught between hate and lies and detachment

Pathological failure to no demise and a purchasable commitment

What will they see looking back this way through lenses made of time

The chaos that made us this way and the choices that seemed sublime

A broken road of promised light and a land that won’t exist

The fearless are all now huddling and the lies all still persist

I’ve been listening
every time that you spoke
your virtue signals
are nothing but smoke

The nattering of you fertile
mind is in the plotting
you’ll only be benificial
when you’re dead and rotting

projector broadcast fear
with bigoted protrusions
leading a race straight down
with grandiose illutions

assisted tribal suicide
party to the bottom
screaming bumper ignorance
it’s easier to spot ’em

Where there’s smoke there’s fire but you just won’t fucking burn
I got the gas and a match so maybe you’ll fucking learn
I want to hear you scream in the flame and it’s your turn
Your ashes in the dumpster your home you return.

I wake every morning and face your ghost

A reminder each day what is gone

Another memory not lost, but archived away

To be experienced once more, redrawn

The echos in the calm from within, stir without

Evoking near choked back tears in the solitude

Another year is looming, a trip around Sol

Your memory rises with verisimilitude.

But what can I believe

And what did I create

Hoping that reality was a lie

Still no tears, despite the sorrow

A decade or more of denial

I still never told you goodbye.