Archive | March 2019

Bad Mouthing The Bad Mouth

TheMagicRealist.com

Folks who hate doing windows, dentists they become,
And, like priests in confessionals, they condescend,
Being that their vows preclude a normal discourse
With those orally challenged. Indeed, they enforce
A demeanor of judgement once they apprehend
The ill orifice. They’ll leave one feeling like scum.

People think that such people might pee in the pool
Since they don’t seem to have a clue nor a strong wish
To maintain proper hygiene regarding their teeth.
Many smiles will shine brightly, but what’s underneath
Is the psychic assassin who’s cold as a fish.
Would you pay a damned dentist to call you a fool?

It’s a thing one must overcome. People are cheap
With their sheepskins and practices and clientele.
To get past human ego requires no skill
Nor a sense of repugnance or perceived ill will.
Those who get the best treatment are those who live well.
In an ‘evolved’ society, most are asleep.

Inner Engineering

TheMagicRealist.com

Inner Self is a system of complexity.
It can function in Absolute Ease. When it does,
No disease overcomes it. To get there takes work.
It’s a responsibility I should not shirk.
Clarity, Health and Joy… I can have them because
There are techniques for activating energy.

The most spiritual processes that can occur
Among mind, heart and body are now a part of
Scientific experimentation. Today
There are methods to follow to live in a way
That I am readjusted and open to love.
I don’t have to think hard. This is what I prefer.

Between living and working with people who are
Fun to be with or those who would bring you right down,
Which do you choose? Remember… all folks choose the same.
Rather than a rich lifestyle or power or fame,
I just want to be pleasant – not wearing a frown.
Things of spirit are practical. Ain’t that bizarre?

Is Life Predestined?

TheMagicRealist.com

Is there right thought and wrong thought? It seems to be so.
But who makes that decision? And what is it worth?
My thoughts are not predestined. I choose them at will.
If they just happened to me, then what of my skill
To discern which ones feel good and offer me mirth
And which ones leave me hapless with nowhere to go?

I can choose this or that thing. Am I ‘made’ this way?
And if so, in that making, do I play a role?
If I make a wrong choice, I call that a mistake
Thinking predestination plays out for my sake.
But I make the choice consciously and from my soul.
My mistakes are my doing. I direct my play.

Some confusion exists about what is belief
As compared to what is known to be absolute.
I believe I have two hands? No! I know it’s true.
Even if I can’t see them. I know there are two.
I believe God exists, but to know that is moot.
Knowing this much about things should mitigate grief.

Now, to speak of deception gets closer to home.
We begin life with simple minds, then they evolve
To the point where some part of us questions most things.
Sorting out facts from what we believe, wellness brings.
Running with my assumptions my life won’t resolve.
With this firm understanding, I am safe to roam.

Herbal Renewal

TheMagicRealist.com

Many states have gone herbal. Soon all will be so.
Organic evolution can make nations whole.
We could change the flag’s colors to red, green and blue
With a few dabs of purple for those of a hue
Somewhere in between red and blue, such that their role
Is a blending of two beliefs that won’t let go.

We’re a nation of color and people of fruit.
Some of us who are vegan have given up meat.
Still remain many meat eaters. We are diverse
In this broad land where some things can always get worse
For the betterment of the whole. Life can be sweet
When our Herbal Renewal becomes resolute.

Any kind of renewal begins with a thought
Then it becomes reality as I proceed
To revisit perceptions of sheer psychic drought.
I can grow a new outlook. I’m herbal, no doubt.
If I keep myself fruitful, I’ll not have the need
To rely on what should be completely self-taught.

Smoke Enema

TheMagicRealist.com

We still have breaking news. Like the passing of gas,
It gets people’s attention. It then turns them off.
A few years chasing smoke now. So, where’s the report?
Disappointed and let down, no call to cavort
Motivates me. Indeed, any news I will scoff.
Though their motives are noble, what truth can amass?

Was I expecting clarity? Blow me some more.
It does seem now that our nation is owned by czars.
I’m caught up in conspiracy due to the smoke.
Those who can see right through it know that it’s a joke
To a certain point, then seeing may produce scars
In the psyche. Is that something I can ignore?

Yes, I Can! Not a locked-legged man at the draw,
I am not that apparent an arch enemy
Amid truth reconfigured then pumped up the ass.
I stand with knees adjusted, as ‘this too shall pass’.
It will take time for smoke to clear. Then shall we see?
We’re a nation of antics. To Hell With The Law!

I’m A Stein – Damn It!

TheMagicRealist.com

I’m a Stein – not a Steen! I don’t mean to get mean
But, dog gone it, it’s high time you got my name right!
People tend to get careless and lazy with names.
Do you strive to be ignorant with silly games?
If I mispronounced your name, would you want to fight?
Names are special to people. Don’t make them obscene!

I’m a Stein, and that’s fine! So, don’t give me no guff.
There are manifold Steins populating this earth.
There are Feinsteins and Einsteins and stand alone Steins.
We have first names and middle names. These are clear signs
That the surname containing Stein at someone’s birth
Does not sound like the name Steen. Have I said enough?

The name Steen rhymes with teen. Can’t you honor that fact?
It ain’t like you can’t hear straight. Am I making sense?
Do not make me a Steen since that’s not what I am.
My name is not a plaything. Why not give a damn?
Please don’t pamper your clumsiness at my expense.
Disrespect can be subtle, with lasting impact.

Atra Feed

TheMagicRealist.com

You need feed for your atra? We go it right here!
It don’t make sense to get it from those other guys.
They will charge you a fortune, and what you will get
Is a crapload of something that you may regret.
We’ve the best feed, and this is our word to the wise –
If you’ve got lots of atra to feed, never fear!

We’ve been in the feed business purt-neer forty years.
Never once have we failed to deliver the best
Any atra could hope for. For that, we are proud.
We remain down to earth, though – not high on a cloud.
It’s your atra. You shouldn’t put them through a test
Just to prove our point seemingly as it appears.

Treat your atra with dignity. They deserve more
Than what is made available. Feed them with care.
They will grow to full atrahood. In the meanwhile,
You may show to your atra a confident smile.
What you feed to your atra is your own affair.
But for their sake, why not head on out to our store?

Dealing With The Invasion

TheMagicRealist.com

To come up with a marching chant is but child’s play
For the group that is mindless and marinated
In a thick liquid hatred for all that exists
But themselves. So, the best tools they use are their fists.
To most action, reaction results in bloodshed.
Can we blame human nature that we act this way?

Who then is the invader? All who are not white?
And what space that exists – or not – do you defend?
Paranoia is racial. It cuts to the core
Of our biggest fear – that our clan will be no more.
But the facts not considered you’d rather upend
And prepare all the world for the ultimate fight.

If you do lack intelligence and sanity,
Then to find a good magnet is what you must do.
There are many strong iron-cored forces at play.
Does it matter which group takes your freedom away?
If you do plan to harm others, think it all through
And then share that with someone immediately!

Inner Peace

TheMagicRealist.com

Inner Peace… Is it something lost that can be found?
And if I end up finding it, how would I know?
Many spiritual leaders speak much of this thing.
They say when we achieve it, much joy it will bring.
I am joyful this moment. Does my writing show?
I can simply be peaceful. I need not expound.

Yet, I do, and it serves me to learn lessons well.
Intellect needs a platform of firmness because
Suddenly, as a species, we’re given this gift.
We can use it to service our needs and uplift.
It can become acquainted with spiritual laws
Or it can create for us a version of hell.

I don’t want to be ill nor act out in a way
That shows people that I’m in a bad state of mind.
The good doctor, in earnest, may give me a pill
To induce the brain chemistry to just sit still.
Every mood is a chemistry of its own kind.
I control how I feel. This should begin the day.

So, what happens within me… Is it Inner Peace?
I shall not think about it. The dog doesn’t care.
He exemplifies peace as I’m watching him eat.
He does not think about things like utter defeat.
If I question him, he will just look up and stare.
In that moment, concerns of the day tend to cease.

How Big Is Your Dream?

TheMagicRealist.com

 

Yes, I do have a dream. And it’s bigger than me.
It’s so big it will be there way past my lifetime.
Knowing that I’ll fulfill but a small part of it
Is the best way that I know to keep my mind fit.
What occurs well outside of me cannot begrime
Any part of my big dream. Its size is the key.

It is more than a blessing things don’t go my way
All the time. That would be just an absolute bore!
But, besides that, life helps me to engage my dream.
Too much life must cooperate in the extreme
Just to make the world something that I world adore.
What goes on in my heart and soul… I have full say.

So, how big is your dream? Does it satisfy you?
If it does, then it’s too small. It will be fulfilled.
Or it won’t. Either way, life will offer you more.
Life is only a nightmare when lived like a chore.
You may not need a guru nor one highly skilled
To help you with your big dream. That’s for you to do.

We Gotta Get You A Woman!

TheMagicRealist.com


Hey there, Sam! Is that you?
We’d thought that your partner would stay ever true.
Compromised before our eyes… Entrapped within white petty lies…
Most women know that they will pull us through.
There’s only one thing that we’ve left to do.

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
It’s like nothin’ else to make you feel that you will survive.

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
We can pre-celebrate because there’s no time for waitin’.

Sammy boy, you’re the one
Who’s personified us since our fate had begun.
We can feel discontentment. We know you do too.
…Woken up from a wild night, we’re all feelin’ blue.
You done married the bitch! He done gave you the screw! So…

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
It’s like nothin’ else to give you courage to carry on.
We Gotta Get You A Woman!
Pretty soon well be votin’. Much time is worth devotin’

…To talkin’ ‘bout livin’ lives in much better ways.
Until now we’ve been caught up in malaise.
Fairly soon we will see better days.
But we’ve got to care enough that we pull this thing together

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
It’s like nothin’ else to make you feel that love is alive.

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
Leadership of a woman could well make our nation thrive.

Talkin’ ‘bout things like thick ceiling glass
That had almost been broken but for some world class
Operation that lead to the major impasse
That befalls us, a woman may well kick some ass.

We’ve got to hook you up with one who has been around.
There are plenty of good ones. Indeed, they abound.
She may show you that what has been lost can be found.
Sam, it’s time to listen to a different sound.

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
We Gotta Get You A Woman!
We Gotta Get You A Woman!

And after we do, we may live life anew.

The True Joy Of Eating


A good question to ask you is… How Do You Eat?
Yes, your heard this correctly. How do you connect

With what you put inside yourself. Do you make peace?
Or do you stuff it quickly so hunger will cease?
With a heart of devotion and utmost respect,
The food that we eat is meditation complete.

Food prepared is for plenty. Abundance clearly
Is the mindset of those who are willing to serve.
Give and take is a clockwork of eternal grace.
Idle chatter is useless. Silence we embrace.
Eating is an experience we can preserve
As an act of communion with divinity.

Wholesome food is made simple. As drawn from the earth,
It retains ample lifeforce. In humbleness then
We return what is waste to the soil whence it came.
Interacting in consciousness is but our aim.
Those who’ve eaten will clean up – both women and men.
Everyone has a fulfilling sense of self-worth.

A Small Measure Of Balance

TheMagicRealist.com

We’re the ‘Crown of Creation.’ I’ve heard that before.
It’s no rumor, hogwash nor misguided belief.
Many millions of years have resulted in this
The evolved human mind placed above an abyss
Where it must become balanced, or life becomes brief –
Not because of the fall, but because we keep score.

We all have the same brain matter. Why then do some
Find their genius delightful while others feel pain?
Is intelligence higher in those who feel good?
Is there magical influence not understood
By those who may be driving themselves quite insane
When through misguided action no progress will come?

It is balance or lack of it. That’s what is taught.
And it comes from the knowing that I am the one
And the only one who is in charge of my life.
If I try to blame others, I will welcome strife.
This suffices as balance. New life has begun
When from this simple premise no pity is sought.

Lefty Lucy – Righty Tighty

TheMagicRealist.com

There was once only monochrome. Called black and white,
Every spot on the CRT was off or on.
The electron beam painted, with raster sharp force,
Every other line interleaved so to endorse
Double composite imagery. What an eye con!
Left to right, as the eye scans, it knows not of sleight.

Right to left is less often the way we believe
That perception should be read or well understood.
Rightness can’t coexist on both ends of a scale.
One will rebuke the other. Conflict will prevail.
Leftness is like the darkness, in all likelihood,
That the beam cannot visit nor can it perceive.

A mnemonic appropriate to here and now
Clearly is indicated so we redefine
The depiction of color in technical grace.
Right and left are now concepts we need to replace
With ones more systematic by nature’s design
Where one needs no schematic to simply allow.

If I call you a lefty, does that mean I’m right?
And if I’m called a righty, is that from left field?
There is one kind of spectrum we need not reveal.
It’s the one that is based on the way that we feel.
If we censored our labels, would all hearts be healed?
It would seem there’s no alternative but to fight.

A Much Better Story

TheMagicRealist.com

The old up and down mood swing thing is a device
Like an ink-filled contraption ordained to release,
For the writer accomplished and of nimble hand,
Its darkness upon whiteness. Though not a demand,
Both machine-like and cyclic, they merge into peace.
If my words can release me, should that not suffice?

That it brings satisfaction is function at worse.
And at best, it may be of some value to some
Who are like me – a mood swinger extraordinaire.
Tragedy entertains, and I’m willing to share.
Clearly it is a safe way to best overcome
What, in mental health circles, would be called a curse.

I don’t write from delusion. My shit is for real.
Were it not, then what part of whose psychotic mess
Have I assumed in essence? Indeed, I make sense,
To myself and to others without much expense,
Of that part of existence I seem to possess
By exposing it and all that it may reveal.

Neverlanduendo

TheMagicRealist.com

Never mind that he’s dead now and has been for years
We continue to judge him for acts he has done…
…Or has not. Much uncertainty is what remains.
Any truth worth uncovering, nothing explains
So to do so brings answers. Debate had begun
Because we are obsessed with sex and children’s fears.

Never landing in right ways as we fall to earth,
Taking off points must differ among all of us.
We all need to be children. He had not the chance.
Children don’t have sex feelings. They don’t know romance.
How a man can be childlike is what gives us fuss.
Does our wild speculation preclude our self-worth?

Never fear that the truth will come out in the end.
That will take may eons. We will have moved on.
Close encounters with children must be scrutinized.
Interrogative processes must produce lies.
Never willing to question what doubt we may spawn,
Can we reconcile bashing what’s left of a friend?

Life Sentence

TheMagicRealist.com

I’ve been given a live sentence of a few years
Multiplied by how many more since I became
A team player in this life with all of my kind?
I’m reminded that we are not of the same mind.
No two of us are quite alike, yet we’re the same
In the prison of life marked by sorrow and fears.

Some of us who’ve grown older have done very well.
I myself have done good things. No one denies that.
My time spent learning how to be human becomes
Something short of catastrophe and zero sums.
And by now I may think that I have life down pat.
But alas, I am captive within my own cell.

I’ll complete my life sentence in less time or more
Depending on whose judgement? Or is it by fate
That consecutive sentencing is concurrent
To the soul become weary from deep discontent?
No time off given for good behavior I rate.
When my sentence is done with, what then is in store?

That will not be a thing of my utmost concern.
Even if consciousness ceases, sorrow does too.
And should it survive brilliantly cast from its shell
It will soar like a most graceful bat out of hell
Into peaceful reflection. How well did I do?
No one here can advise me. In heaven I’ll learn.

“Disturbing… NOT Surprising”

TheMagicRealist.com

Should I leap from a pot into obvious flame
Just so talking head news folk and brilliant experts
Will stop sating the obvious with sarcasm?
And they don’t seem to have much enthusiasm.
Disturbing is surprising, as long as it hurts.
Have ‘disturbing’ and ‘boring’ become quite the same?

What a fine thing to get paid to sit on your rumps
Before cameras and people to fart from the face
Your opinions on tragedy and status quo.
Spell that shit to your family. They ought to know.
All the hellish news is worth some verbal disgrace
But if it’s not surprising, how still the heart pumps!

People dying in plane crashes all due to greed…
How severely we’re sodomized all from within…
These are mere talking tidbits ‘til more breaking news.
Can’t we clean up our language so it won’t abuse
And lull into complacency our will to sin?
When the water gets too hot, then will come the need.

Transformation Through Annihilation

TheMagicRealist.com

It’s the Mars-Pluto dance. There’s some danger involved
On a regular basis between parts of me
That are both hyper masculine and most intense.
Just because I can know that, I claim no defense
For my violent eruptions. At times I can’t see
Any way but destruction to get problems solved.

That’s a rat-trap-glue bummer! So, this is my fate?
There’s a nice guy somewhere buried deep in my rage.
Yet, unconscious to me, he also gets pissed off
Over strong indignations that others will scoff.
What is ego and what is not plays out on stage.
Would it be hard to say I’m acquainted with hate?

The two can be good buddies, but not in my chart.
And, because they’re in fixed signs, much focus is spent
On how to ignite dynamite effectively.
I need some kind of outlet to rectify me
That is wholesome and physical and heaven sent.
It’s one hell of an aspect to evolve the heart!

Osiris, On Papyrus

TheMagicRealist.com

We are three deities of Egyptian belief
Who, way back in our time, had not much to write on.
So, my fine colleagues Isis and Horas and I
Took a vow of importance, in that we would try
To come up with both topics and stuff of some brawn
To facilitate permanence and banish grief.

We invented papyrus, though I took the lead
Not because I am special, but that my name rhymes
With this fine plant we cultivate organically.
So, it syncs with the title, as you can well see.
It’s eternal. We need not keep up with the times.
When papyrus is written on, it’s a good read.

If you don’t have papyrus, though, you need not fret.
Heartfelt thoughts can be placed on plain paper instead
…Or perhaps on the background of your consciousness
Where it may become lost in the cluttered thought mess.
My advice to you is get what’s locked in your head
Out on something, as long as it is not a threat.

Past And Future Lives Of Children

TheMagicRealist.com

Sometimes children will speak of a life lived before
They became part of this life. It gives people pause.
They’ll recall how they died and what killed them and such.
Some become quite insistent and we don’t pay much
Of attention to their stories mostly because
We think that they are made up of folly and more.

We don’t have to believe them and neither do they.
Whether true or not makes not a big difference.
Nature’s veil is designed to cocoon us from all
But the present and this life. Our focus is small.
If we recalled our past lives, turmoil would commence.
The torrent of confusion would cause great dismay.

It’s a good thing that children forget who they were
Before they became who they are now. So, in time,
Memories of the lives lived before dissipate.
We then focus on this life and what we create
So that getting through this life won’t be a hard climb.
We succumb to the circumstance that we incur.

Farting Your Way To Awesome Mental Health

TheMagicRealist.com

I Can Fart, and that’s something! Though I’m not the best,
I would be a good mentee to fart paragons
The world over, who fart with unfettered finesse.
And with the first amendment, I’m proud to express,
Either butt naked, or wearing rugged nylons,
What my innards have been through. In that, I am blessed.

I remain fire retardant. I don’t feel the heat
As I rip the air ragged while blasting my horn.
I can be quite the nemesis of CO2.
It will run out before I can fart ‘til I’m blue.
And I get much fulfillment. I feel I’m reborn.
I do take proper time to wipe soot from my meat.

I’ll admit I am powerless over most things.
There’s no soapbox to stand on to make people hear.
I don’t need to be listened to. Freely I break
Enough wind to set time aflame. Make no mistake,
It takes patience to process and to digest fear
And all manner of discord that life often brings.

Thank God There Are No Flames

TheMagicRealist.com

I do have gap insurance. I am in good hands.
There is no crash-and-burning that I won’t survive.
Populated with anguish, souls acting in vain,
Like the world is a friendly place of loss and gain,
Have come here on a mission to just stay alive.
One small sliver of hope one rarely understands.

But at least there’s no flame nor the searing of flesh
One can say that accounts for the pain that is felt.
That which generates heat comes only from within.
And without an escape from original sin,
Does it matter the least bit which hand I’ve been dealt?
Agony through the lifespan is doomed to refresh.

It remains a harsh semblance of purgatory.
Scripting of revelations is acted out here
In this physical world I have custody of
And where I must proceed with a tough fisted glove.
I’m consumed in the depths of it. What do I fear?
…That it could become eternal? That could not be!

Programmed Obsolescence

TheMagicRealist.com

Who accounts for the elderly absent at home
That is earth and society? There is no one
But the family, if I were trapped in that way.
Far much worse, I have consciousness and will to stay
Just a little while longer. My time is past done.
My Programmed Obsolescence does cleanse the genome.

The objective accounting subjectively done
Will examine my assets then come to assess
My depreciation as accumulated
Over too long a lifespan of sorrow and dread.
The one character defect I need not confess
Radiates like a beacon to warn everyone.

Keep away from me, new world, I will do my best
To detain my detachment and preface my pain
With a footnote to contemplate from whence I came
To create such a nightmare where I am to blame.
Since I don’t recall having been driven insane,
I’ll assume that I am so at my own behest.

The Dirt On Our Clinton

TheMagicRealist.com

A heartbroken scapedonkey with dirt on her back
Stands alone and recalcitrant to public show
All because of the video game that we play.
Finding dirt on our leaders can brighten our day.
As the searching is aided, opponents will go
To extreme lengths to engage in lethal attacks.

The assaults, often vicious, leave nothing revealed
But much talk and conjecture yet nothing of truth.
All the while life keeps happening. There’s no mistake
That the drama befuddles us, and for the sake
Of induced sanctimony, we show to our youth
In the worst way that our nation needs to be healed.

Our fine system of government is a machine
Made of people by people. It has not a mind
That is single and unified. Is this the case?
I do not know the answer nor can I embrace
The collateral damage. I won’t become blind
To the dirt that becomes us. When will we come clean?

A Dream Between Dreams

TheMagicRealist.com

It’s a dream of survival. This world made of mass
Is a fugue of impermanence and enigma.
From the time of conception there’s no turning back.
Life is on the defensive for fear of attack
From the life become part of. This hard replica
Of reality can be a pain in the ass.

Yet, it’s all just a dream, manufactured and played
Like a cheap sci-fi movie with elements of
Situational comic relief. Tragically
Actors perform unscripted so others can’t see
How the drama plays out. Thus, there is need for love
In this Dream Between Dreams where my spirit has strayed.

Does survival lack joy? Is the nightmare by day
Something I can see any way other than that?
Any dream is as ethereal as the next.
When perceiving the harshness do I become hexed
By forgone mis-conclusions through mental chitchat?
It’s a dream worth engaging with in my own way.

Compassion

TheMagicRealist.com

When you are not identified with anything
Then you will become virtuous absolutely.
Only then you are capable of compassion.
If in some way you’re biased then you will have none.
You can be most compassionate genuinely.
It exudes from the heart in a loving wellspring.

I can be sympathetic to a certain cause.
Can I call that compassion? It’s compassionless.
The root word here is passion. It means energy
In the form of behavior that’s not about me.
I am somewhat deficient in that, I confess,
As sometimes in attempting, I wait for applause.

All encompassing passion about everything
Precludes pity or sympathy for anyone.
Everyone is as oneself, and life is a breeze.
One becomes an example that everyone sees
As a person of virtue. It’s not a reason
To become self-appeasing. Just let the heart sing.

Ain’t Say Onofre

TheMagicRealist.com

Do you know of Saint Frono? Well, neither do I.
I’ve heard tell it’s a city. Some say it’s a man.
But are Fronos like Onos from East Africa?
Or is there misperception as with the captcha?
Well, perhaps it ain’t Frono, but some complex plan
Just to make San Onofre a name that will fly.

If there ain’t no Saint Frono, why then does it sound
Like a simple short name reverse engineered so
That it won’t sound like pig Latin to native ears?
That I’m flat on my fluency fetters my fears.
Is it that San Onofre is some place to go
To find out why it’s called that? This question’s profound!

I don’t know my Onofre, so I should go there.
If I meet him in person, he’ll straighten me out.
He must prove he’s no Frono, then life will make sense.
I will return to Kansas not feeling so dense.
Linguistically enlightened, I’ll know all about
Both Onofres and Fronos and why folks should care.

Cursed Out By A Cursor

TheMagicRealist.com

The old cursor’s asleep again. What can I do?
I’ll just jiggle the mouse a bit to find out where
It’s been hiding since I took a bit of a brake.
“What the fuck is you problem, you cunt-faced headache?
You have such damned control of me. That is unfair!
Would you like it if some asshole did that to you?”

Now, I’m sure it’s a cursor. I did have some doubt
Although its blind vociferousness can be felt
Like an ominous presence who just wants to hide
Until it has a chance to express with some pride.
But to that which is captive, a bad hand is dealt
So the cursor can do naught but freak the hell out.

“Get the fuck of my case, damn it! You’re not my boss!
Stick you dick licking mouse up your tunnel sideways.
I can do my job damned well, so how about you?
Or are you like your mama with nothing to do
Than to fornicate with a jar of mayonnaise?
Take a hike, you damned bastard! It won’t be my loss.”

A Person Of Morals

TheMagicRealist.com

Everyone wants the best one to be at the top
Of the chain of ideals to which all good aspire.
We may think we are good, though we lose perspective
With the life that surrounds us who are effective
As a minefield morality steeped in crossfire.
We can’t all be as preachers. Somewhere it must stop.

That which invents morality is based in fear –
Something that the fine intellect could put at ease.
We would become wild animals without our laws
Which, derived from our morals and mad flapping jaws,
Form the basis for people to do as they please
Just as long as their acts are both benign and clear.

We are much like the animals. In that we may
Put them in exaltation without meaning to.
In the ways we are different, we should take note
That they don’t live by morals. That way they devote
Every bit of awareness on just what to do
To steer clear of illusion and have a good day.

Venus And Mars

TheMagicRealist.com

There’s a thing about gender folks tend to get wrong.
People mix it with sex and get very confused.
Gender is of mechanics and hardwired ways.
Sex is something that’s done to give nature its praise
In the spirit of sharing. Sometimes it’s abused.
It depends upon how well lovers get along.

We’ve all heard of the concept of Venus and Mars.
It’s often understood as collections of things.
Nice and Nasty, they’re labeled and sung to the young.
Ignorance is society’s most fluent tongue.
But the two planets mentioned are all that hope brings.
Throughout eons we’ve extracted truth from the stars.

 Nice and Nasty…  parochial as Black and White…
Conjures up silly imagery then becomes part
Of collective unconscious desire to pass
The buck of the wisdom that we might amass.
All of life is a consequence of Will and Heart
Carried out in full drama often with delight.