Fan Blades (January 6, 2013)

My energy has dissipated
Absorbed by negative feelings
No passion nor desire for growth
My stomach churns
Numbing agents mask my anxiety
A rotten inner core
Devoid of hope and purpose
Chasing comfort and solace
I seek reassurance
To practice pure altruism ensures resilience
To inquire for all human beings
A special wish is made
Close your eyes and dream
The world can be a wicked place
It can smear you without a trace
Of the person you aspire to be
Look into the challenger’s face
Stand firm and act without haste
I am free. It crumbles around me.
Now you’ve got the taste
Do not waste. Show grace.
Open your eyes and see


I’m Blown Away (August 27, 2011)

She is furious today
Who provoked her?
High winds and ocean spray

I peer through the window
When will she leave?
Not friend, but foe

Intent on causing harm
Her wails are heard
Throughout city and farm

It’s all shut down
Don’t go outside
Her wrath makes us frown

What can we do?
But batten down the hatches
Devour the canned food

Movies will suffice
Until the power expires
Flooded waters and field mice

Tomorrow she will be gone
We will all clean up together
Birds will sing songs

It will be a nasty scene
Should she choose to stay long
Go home, Irene

Capitalist Waves (November 8, 2011)

It’s business
We’re here to make a profit
We have our globalization
You can’t stop it
Small town America
Another factory closes
Big city America
A sea divided like Moses
Optimization of the workforce
Other countries are more attractive
Bunch of fucking gluttonous pigs
Immoral money-worshiping bastards
Where will you cash your checks?
When the people stop buying
Riot mobs forming on your lawns
With armaments quite petrifying
LOOK at their tattered faces
These hard working souls
They come to teach you humility
By throwing YOU out in the cold
You claim it’s not your job
To help keep jobs in our country
That this is Uncle Sam’s doing
Sure. Like you were following blindly
Follow and worship the dollar
Invest in the yen
A rupee for the working man
Starved like Gandhi; emaciated until the end

Sober Night (November 28, 2010)

It’s the Saturday night place
Where masses put on a drinking face
Not me this time

Pungent brew
Permeating air like winter stew
Water is fine

Old and new friends cheer
Several shots, chased with beer
Not a soul indulging wine

A woman thinks I’m funny
I don’t smile. I’m like this sober, hunny
Something’s amiss in my mind

Feeling sober with lack of drink
She’s stares and doesn’t blink
I decline her in my prime

Is it wrong I feel vexed?
At the thought of sober sex?
My thought process is unkind

Getting used to the thought
Of a sober scene’s walk and talk
I’m searching for my spine

Matty Matt (November 12, 2010)

A son
A brother
A friend to me

Five years
Still tears
Vivid memories

Processed the news
Stupor induced
Blackened rage overcame

The pain
The suffering
I can’t forget your name

A shame
This game
We are living

It can change
It is plain
To see who is missing

Our song
Now it’s gone
May spirit live on

We miss the laugh
Of Matty Matt
Help me be strong

That Good Feeling (November 10, 2010)

Let’s congregate en mass
And raise our half-empty glass
To the wicked of the night

Play a harmonic tune
Soothe this rancid saloon
Else the drunkards may fight

The ale is full of spice
She is pretty, but is she nice?
She asks me for a light

Work beckons in the morning
A hangover will render scorning
Over-consumption is killing my sight

We may be too much
A longing for two souls to touch
I knew she was full of spite

Slow Down and Be Sad (November 8, 2010)

Shit and people.
Things don’t change.
Both are one and the same.
Which one to purchase?
Which one to break?
Imitate. Fake.
He was visited.
Asked yet AGAIN to slow down.
He wears a crown of frowns.
Drown your sorrows and despair.
Let’s toast the moonlit sky!
Take him there to die?
Who provides the smile?
Faith. Purpose. Hugs.
It’s an empty mug.
Fill it with what you wish.
Eventually it will be empty.
Show it for all to see.
He hates living with the living.
The record repeats in his head.
Why can’t we put it to bed?
An asshole returns.
To eradicate all sanity. He’s truly mad.
Reminding everyone to be sad.
He drinks it up.
And finds a use for it.
Organizing his world of shit
Into one box. It all fits.
He thinks it should burn.
The ashes wait their turn.