interdependent web of existence

tears of the damned

numbers and numbers and numbers

representing individuals

representing

a man with a plan

a woman wanting to make bread

a child who loves rain

we watch numbers without names

names have too much value

when we hear names

the strings of attachment to humanity

pull too hard, decisions begin forming

actions feel necessary

 

200,000 people

one man who wanted to build a house

one young man in love with one young woman

one 70 year old man who just wanted to sleep without bombs

one 3 year old girl who never read

one 8 year old girl who loved the stars

one human being essential to the future

tragic

200,000 human beings with names and dreams and goals essential to the future

i wail for the loss of humanity

i weep for the transference of names to numbers

i cry for the percentages

i yearn desperate for what we have lost

i burn inside for the time

humanity overthrows the prejudice, power, division

i will keep the names of those who lived

those who have to face it again and again

etched in my soul

for the dead no longer pray

they no longer cry tears of the damned

 

 

 

always hold onto the helium balloon

every minute ticked by

slowly

like a strung out snail

a turtle on heroin-time

looking through windows

at the lives of others

shivering and shaking

as they drank their swiss miss

from over-sized mugs

smelling of beets, patchouli and other organics

rosey cheeked fuckers with cream-like chins

dancing sparkling eyes and the proper bmi

every smile of delight made me shrink

the definition of me

lay solely

in the definition of they

but that ain’t life, man

the human being isn’t built

for the rat race

i stored my morals in my pocket

i pulled them out or tucked them in

depending on the who’s what’s when’s why’s where’s

the nouns and verbs of the situation

the only thing that can grow in nothing

is nothing

and that is all i was

nothing

and it’s too much to be nothing where you need to be anything but

so i charted and planned and catered

i was going out like a rocket ship and not a child’s balloon

then it was amazing

the most amazing of graces

there was a smile and a greeting

that was it…..

when there is a pair of nothings

you have something

and shit

that is a something to fucking believe in

we keep the door open

the light is on

and the fire is lit

there is bread out and cheeses

always look for warm drinks in winter and ice when the sun is high

everyone is someone

everything is something

in this place we are a band of miscreant ex-nothings creating a grand circus of delight

snow white is an alien and dopey is everyone’s favorite dwarf

how does it feel to relinquish
to let go and dive into pools
pools of joyful ignorance
pools of infant arrogance
to forget care and caution
to reject compassion and consequence
to be foolishly unremorseful and gluttonous
if simplicity were a gown, surely it would be lace and lamé
i would adorn myself in it daily
i do not want riches or royalty
i do not want to be powerful
i want to listen to music
without instruments, just technology
i want to appreciate the plight
of not being able to find a bitch to fuck
i want to wear nike and not care about the warehouses
i would love to find prefab premade processed food
in bags in boxes on shelves in stores and not read the ingredients
i want to not know the side-effects of monosodium glutamate
to never see a fantasy re-enactment of the process and production
“partially defatted fatty tissue-the musical”
i want to be blind to mc-ee-d’s and their magical meat
the bread that will never mold and a crypt of special sauce
i want an orange tan from a can and curly locks from a box
i want an over-sized-hot-wheel sports utility vehicle
to cruise around in listening to fake music
talking shit with my fake friends about the other fake friends
and eating my two number 4’s
and not giving a damn about the enviroment
or the slavery or the repercussions or the oppression
but there are some of us born with the burden of this
we see in every action the possible and probable reactions
we know footsteps handshakes and bad business deals create tsunamis
and therefore we must always be burdened with forethought
there can be no shrugging off responsibility
it finds us like a mangy dog no one wants to pet
it haunts our dreams and our moments in restrooms
screams of the tortured past present and future
create tumors in our bodies and minds
we do not need meetings and diplomacy
we do not need figures and graphs
when we see wrong we do, we act, we verb
because humanity must be humane
we know our silence is consent

glory and praise to destroy the wicked

some increments of time

moments building centuries

tides of outside

roll in

crashing

smashing

consuming

bringing varieties

of parasitic assholes

tapeworms feeding

making a delectable meal

of life and laughter and love

the beauty that pulses

the light that connects

us

the clan of crusaders

the thinkers and shakers

we band of doers

seeing wrong

smelling pain

tasting moral injustice

touching deceit

refusing ignorance

refusing lethargy

refusing invitations of ease

screaming, screeching, howling

bound in kinship by choice

born for love and honor and valor

intuition of trust and hope and faith

in crisis and in captivity

kith and consaguinity never too far

breakable but never be broken

when shadows whisper

lies and loathing and temptations

promising heaven and pricing utopia

just follow the yellow brick road

breath deep in fields of red poppies

and be cherished in christ

fools we are

but foolish we are not

we are happily damned

rejoicing in our wretchedness

dancing together

covered in mud and blood

we are embodied

tisiphone

megaera

alecto

nemisis

eris

hecate

demeter

persephone

thanatos

gaia

agdistis

cybele

attis

we are the overlooked

we are the forgotten

we are the secret

marching on tip-toes

battleground bound

to raze and eliminate

the separatist dogma

we are the paradigm shift

monsters eating the world

dear uncle sam and friends,

no taxation without representation

the battle cry of old school terrorists

can someone tell me who represents:

transgender people

people of color

those stamped convict

the dykes and fags

the old woman eating cat food to buy medicine

those unable to read

those unable to write

junkies with jobs

the families living in junk yard cars

the single mother of a disabled child

hell, the disabled child

the hungry

the desperate

the mentally ill

the pious without jesus

the starving

the others

where is their representation

who is speaking for them

is there one person standing tall

marginalization of the marginalized

no interpreter of legalese available

leaving us drowning in confusion

the pretty paper and preamble

the bill of rights-dead and stinkin

nothing eliminates the smell of a dying soul

legislation passed revoking fundamental liberties

war crimes against kids in new york, new york

kicking

bashing skulls

suffocation by jalapenos

buying big guns and big bombs and big tits

mcdonalds the corporate sponsor of red white and blue

koch brothers footin the bill paying for exemptions

spending $0.75 of each tax dollar on death

while blaming it on the poor needing food

prisons built turning profits with every criminal

the future home of the lower class guaranteed

lack of education

lack of community

lack of family

the child that sits on a cot among rows of cots

placed there because mommy and daddy had a plant

that’s story

the classic art sold to the masses

declaring war on drugs the most profitable option

there is plenty of return on that one, bob!

war on terror is justification of genocide

killing children

bombing the ill

destroying schools

“oops!  my bad!” and a prefab press release

where are my representatives insisting ceasefire

where are the great minds of government and golf

deemed more capable of speaking my truth than i am

it can’t go on

distended bellies

destruction and death

the shattering of families

breaking communities

no meaningful prevention

no meaningful rehabilitation

just the metamorphosis from desperate to psychopath

domination

blood sacrifice

fully-automatic guns

just distractions and justification of oppression

Yes, may i please have a revolution with justice and an extra large diet of equality

“every time history repeats itself the price goes up”

a lesson found on a banner

the slogan rings true

the mighty dollar brings you the world of strife and grief

the morphed bodies of children paying the difference

the price of life on an ever rising interest rate

with the product mass-produced at a low cost

the profit margin increasing with each fiscal term

the warehouse and hub-bub of production uprooted

and moved to the sweatshops providing employment

to those starving and desperate, their bones protruding

the faces of those with no options are hidden from sight

they are the ones at the sewing machines of fate

they are the calloused hands pulling fruit from branches

they are the shovel and the hole of darkness

A new classic of an old tale, “redesigning history”

made into a movie, starring the beauty of the wealthy

those who’s sacrifice built it all forgotten and abandoned

to wander voiceless through the valley of uranium

everyday the group of understudies and nameless grow

those oppressed reading a scripted phrase in a ceremony

and the vows to uphold the rich and greedy repeated

stars and stripes domination used by lying bastards

over the masses of the desperate and despairing

hands locked down with heavy chains of capitalism

folds of green cloth covered with faces of dead presidents

twisted into a symbolic icon of freedom

it’s nonexistent

the few, the proud, the ones marching to destroy

a picture of perfect patriots armed, cloaked and ready

a war of money creating heroes in the eyes of the blind

 

but the execution and genocide sanctioned long ago

the face of the republic head held high and proud

the world of democracy brought to you by nestlee

monsanto will be providing the refreshments

and entertainment is the always fabulous geo group

“the prisons who aren’t afraid to use deadly force!”

“there will always be room in the heart of our cages!”

the lumps and bumps the missing pieces

a lesson

an education in surviving the unfortunate consequences

the lines are blurring quickly

new images becoming clear

the time has come

sparking rebellion against the tyranny

the day of the pariahs and martyrs no longer meek and mute

jailed for treason against the state a capital offense

the cadence of a revolution sounding beneath our feet

to create justice and drive the greedy out of the temples

the voices of the voiceless resounding and hanging midair

true equality painted in the shimmering colors of radiation

history placed in clay pots buried deep, escaping annihilation

the gentle breath of relief as the angel of death passes

allowing another day

another moment to gather

strength

courage

valor

to distribute power in knowledge

the masses swirling forcing the lids of complacency lifted

the war drum is sounding the cry of hope resonating

the time has come to resist

our payment long overdue

fist clenched and raised

iconic an army of comrades

the uniting of brothers and sisters

the clash of classes

all the while dancing hope of independence