Tag Archive | offbeat

When I Die

At The Point of Return

How can there be an ending? The sun, when it sets,
Will again rise, and swiftly. This world I’ll not miss.
Don’t lament, or feel sorrow, or shed any tears.
Know that I am in joy as your grief disappears.
I’ll have not fallen into a monster’s abyss.
Knowing then love eternal, I’ll have no regrets.

As my carcass is lowered, please don’t say goodbye,
For I won’t be there hanging out. I’ll be set free.
But a curtain is grieving to the paradise
That exists just behind it where being is nice.
Beyond cosmos eternal is where I will be.
There’s no need for a full-scale parade when I die.

From the seed that is buried new life will arise,
Every day and forever. This also is true:
When the bucket is lowered down into the well
It comes back full of water. My wish is to quell
Any feelings of loss to the awfully few
Who may come to become witness to my demise.

Much of this is from Rumi. I messed with it some.
It retains his intent, though. At least I think so.
Seriously, his outlook shows deepness of heart.
My respect is for what his ideas impart
To this poet in training. To others I owe
Gratitude for my content from who much does come.

A Wedding Of Excitement And Laughter

Delightful Duo

You are full of excitement, make friends easily,
And enjoy having fun with family and friends.
You have many fine talents. Enthusiasm
In all things that you do is delightful to some.
But to all you’re a service on which life depends.
When at any work, you perform proficiently.

You two work well together and have lots of fun,
Which are one and the same. Versatile you can be
In the use of resources to make things work out.
You believe in your magic. There isn’t a doubt
That the outcome is fortunate. Life, as you see,
Is a captain and mouse game that’s always begun.

Your adventures, bizarre and completely absurd,
Are like snippets of dreamscape adorned in nonsense.
The collective subconscious is the reservoir
For the means of escape through creation and more.
Therapeutic it is to watch foolish events
Where the good ones defy harm, as it is preferred.

Gifts of enduring love, universal appeal,
And your magnetic chemistry offer release
Of the buildup of tension through healthy laughter.
The captain of one’s steamboat, what e’er may occur,
Is the spirit within who’s acquainted with peace
And is always the one in control of the wheel.

Incensitive Spirit

Salvation By Aroma

“It’s the Atmosphere, stupid!” Who speaks in this way
But political talking heads seen on TV?
Insulting one’s intelligence ain’t very nice.
But the gurus of India wouldn’t think twice
About teaching the ignorant how they should be.
But to heck with my ego. I’ll hear what they say.

Spaces indoors are filled with a blending of smells
Within energy structures that have an effect
On spiritual processes undertaken.
They may impede the method used to awaken.
When the air’s a bit funky, with all do respect,
Then proper ventilation refreshment compels.

Both the shape and size of the room are important.
That’s one whole other topic not right for right now.
Every detail has meaning for those so consumed
In the perfection of a room that is perfumed
With a powerful essence which will more allow
Meditation to go well. Who’d say that it can’t?

Replicating the outside and natural air
Filled with fragrance organic is what is achieved
By the use of fine incense or essential oils.
That which is not of nature essentially spoils
Atmospheric integrity… so unperceived.
Incense lifts up the spirit and sanctifies prayer.

What Every Dead Person Knows

Directly From Spirit

No one knows, so it’s said, what happens when we die.
Some who live now know better because they’ve been taught
By the ones who’ve departed this earth and are now
In another dimension – one that does allow
Telepathic instruction in case it is sought
By we yet flesh and blood ones who know they won’t lie.

To certain situations the disembodied
May be drawn because they still have some business here.
They make themselves perceivable by their free will
Once affairs are concluded they chill out until
A bright light being beacons them, “Come not in fear
To the Kingdom of Heaven where your soul is freed.”

 Other beings now bodyless don’t hang around.
They go straight to the gusto without a detour.
There’s a place called the astral plane where some may go.
It’s an earth replica for those who do not know
What the hell’s happened to them. It’s not as before.
They may spend a few eons ‘till some clue is found.

Any way that you look at it death is Ok.
One can always come back to this hell if desired.
But a long break from hard work is always welcome.
While submerged in its density many succumb
To earth’s inherent gravity and become tired.
The unjust laws of physics are hard to obey.

Wisdom Of The Deep

Underworldly Knowedge

To gain underworld access one has to go deep
Where the many mercreatures dwell under the rule
Of a heart-centered leader – parental and strong.
Overly protective he gets if things go wrong.
There will not be a first time that he’s made a fool.
He knows what lack of focus in judgment will reap.

Way down there, there is wisdom that generates peace
That the underworld family thrives as one whole
With complete understanding that all must be well.
Ocean currents comingle and cast the same spell
Of aquatic enrichment. He whom all extol
Is responsible for inner demons’ release.

The domain of the deep sea hold secrets untold.
Therefore, upright land beings through magic create
Fantasy for fulfillment of something unknown
To the conscious awareness and will to condone.
His contempt for we humans is not one of fate.
He relies on his magical trident of gold.

Interestingly King Triton is a nice guy.
Sensitive and affectionate sometimes is he
When he lets down the crown and relaxes his groove.
Among those he adores he has nothing to prove.
Sharing wisdom among folk, he then lets them be
In the bliss of their freedom to give life a try.

Google It!

You Know the Answer

If you know how to Google, perhaps you’ve become
Quite acquainted with nonsense and childish affairs.
That’s ok. Just enjoy it. To Google is fun!
If your mind is too lazy, still work can get done.
Everyone relies on it in stark unawares
That the virtual genie will render them dumb.

Google It if you have to. Why waste energy
Using what God has given you? You need it fast
Like the digital clockwork within wasted brains.
Finding things out a harder way properly trains
And builds up the weak gray matter. Nothing will last
In this world for the unforeseen eternity.

 Babies learn how to Google with relative ease.
Nature gives them the willingness to have their say
In their language made known to all who have keen ears.
They Google celebration with giggles and cheers
But not using devices with which adults play.
Finding out information, for them, is a breeze.

One who Googles one’s ass off for hours on end
May end up with a headache from mental fatigue.
So it’s best to have babies and children help you
To combat the addiction. The searching you do
Means you’re lost in a lull and bereft if intrigue.
It is my humble honor to vaguely offend.

Too More Than Few

Mutiplicitavely Imaginagive

Merry twins dancing gleefully awkward of grace
Can perform for their guests by fulfilling their minds
Need to chase after wild geese that weren’t meant to fly
But to vanish completely. They’ll give it a try
Having been animated by tricks of all kinds.
Existential excitement they’re willing to face.

These imaginative, fun, and expansive two
See delight as a service. Their duty to call
Is sounded almost instantly upon request.
Making life a continuous gamely contest
Between them, among others, and any at all,
Is the way they always come up with something new.

Mundane talk is made pleasant with intricate care.
One can notice that logic has taken a leap
In another direction. Affection is theirs
For those who become trapped in their silly affairs.
As they move about swiftly, they make their horns beep.
Most annoyingly jolly, they’ve too much to share.

Life is made up of stories. The ones that we tell
To others who’ve no choice but to listen in pain
Are the most effective as teachers of free will.
Ain’t it odd that real people have mastered this skill?
Expect not I an answer. It would be insane
As the one who is asking knows perfectly well.

Sweet Yet Explosive

...Lethal Flowers In Her Hair

Normally I’m a sweetheart. Just ask my boyfriend.
He and I share our feelings and get along well.
But I’m quite my own person. You can’t do me wrong.
Among others who love me is where I belong.
My workplace is a dream world where I can excel.
People often misjudge how much I comprehend.

I may throw quite the hissy fit when I’m upset.
It happens only rarely, but then I calm down.
In a matter of minutes my old self returns.
I notice folks’ reactions and quell their concerns
By assuring them that I’m the best gal around.
Sometimes I rattle cages. I have no regret.

My most expressive quality is my live hair.
They perceive my emotions and then act them out.
I believe they are conscious. I wish them no harm.
Often true to my nature, they have special charm.
If I teach them some manners I may gain some clout
In my world of adventure where I’m a fair scare.

Confidently creative, I’m rather unique.
Everyone has some issue. No one is immune
To the ills of our natures, for better or worse.
For some it’s a good teacher – for others, a curse.
Exercising of free will can never impugn
One who’s love is abundant though somewhat oblique.

Tiny Package Of Bigness

Heart Full Of Love

I must follow my heart to wherever it leads.
Others don’t always understand my cherished dream.
Much too idealistic I am for some folk.
But their doubts don’t dissuade me. My love is no joke.
It brightly radiates from my heart in a stream.
Being helpful to others is what on it feeds.

Proud I am to be gentle and wise in my ways.
My innate optimism and warmth is my light.
As spirits are uplifted in those I’m around
There is no satisfaction greater to be found.
With the troubles I may have, I’m given insight
Making sure I’m in love is how I spend my days.

Entertaining my guests of all kinds pleases me.
I appear torn and tattered and somewhat beat down.
Though I have had some struggle, that’s all in the past
Where it stays in control so the present can last.
I shall never become someone of great renown.
Song and dance I do offer absolutely free.

Expecting no reward for the good deeds I do,
I become overwhelmed by the bountiful grace
That I’d dreamed exists only in heaven above.
I’m astonished to witness responses to love.
When I meet with my true love there in outer space
From eternal fulfillment will be my new view.

Agent Of Petulance

Business The Hut

When things need to get done is when I’m at my best
…Or my worst depending on which team you work for.
Keep your business in order as I do my own
Which is yours and all others’. I’m best left alone.
Any kind of behavior I simply abhor.
If you happen to be nice, well… I’m not impressed.

There’s one right way to do things. All others are wrong
And a meaning to method that paperwork makes
Is all that I adhere to. My hard earned success
Is a study in torment at cleaning up mess
And chastising anyone for making mistakes.
Keep your nose to the grindstone and we’ll get along.

Empathy I have somewhere. It’s locked in a place
In a top secret chamber so others can’t reach.
This is for my protection. My guard, if left down,
May cause me to get silly and invert my frown.
I’m the Agent Of Petulance. I’m here to teach
Discipline in a manner unfettered by grace.

Secret Agents need cover, as all monsters do.
If your organization has not a code name,
You may be violating your right to exist
Then I’d have to demand that you cease and desist
In the newest york minute with no hint of shame.
Always watching… Always…I’ve much work to tend to.

Creative Self-Expression

Provocative Personality

Do proceed with your decadent self, I insist!
For if not, all the world will not know of your name.
Be completely assertive in how you perform.
Take the stage if you want to depart from the norm.
You have people’s attention. Success you will claim
As the prize for your efforts. Be by the world kissed!

Feeling quite warm and friendly and light on my feet
In the midst of my projects and gadgets galore,
Totally I’m excited. Just give me some space
To inform and delight you. The look on my face
Says it all, and I intend to give you much more
Than you think could be possible. This ain’t conceit.

Consciousness of appearance is highly maintained.
Making my good impression is first and foremost
So that you’ll get to view me as fully prepared
And profoundly professional. Confidence shared
For a meeting enlightening as we’re engrossed
In unique entertainment is easily gained.

 Creative Self-Expression is freedom to be
Unrestrained and inspired by the passion within
To communicate meaning in every which way.
Infinite is the power in what people say.
Knowing that I have value is where to begin
Brushing up on my act so that others may see.

The Boy From Flimflamboya

The Lady Killer

Through the night his crib is rocking.
The Boy From Flimflamboya be knocking
The bottom out of the big butt babe in his bed.

Women can’t be chaste and mellow
When they are transfixed by this fellow.
Their hearts say, “Hello,” like instant jello in red.

Oh, I would so love to be him
Rather than trying to beat him.
If I were able to see him,
I would ask for advice on romance.
And perhaps he could teach me to dance.

Girls, in absolute surrender,
Compete to be the top contender
To mate with this hallway extender a lot.

Jealous I would be, but I’m not
Because I’m happy with what I’ve got.
Without a thought, I would rather be cool than hot.

May all the he-men salute you.
They have nothing better to do.
Women in search of a good screw
Can go to the local hardware store
Where perhaps they’ll find one to adore.

Fun filled times of wild poon-tanging
And boasting of successful banging
Will leave what’s hanging limp
…Eventually.

Excitable Eccentric

Unstable Genius

Characters with their complex behaviors reflect
Archetypal concurrence among the elite
Professorial preaching. The artist conveys
What are textbook portrayals of aberrant ways
Some may act due to illness that they would then treat
With a name on their spectrum of vain disrespect.

Is it fair that they do that? Or is it a thing
That all humans engage in? What is to be gained
By dissecting the psyche in search of wild nits
In the folds of our fallacies? Fast on the fritz,
Saner minds in compliance remain preordained
To fixation on judgment and what it can bring.

I maintain that the zany are fit to be tied,
Then untied and protected from classical scorn.
I don’t think that I am one. No knot have I felt
But the one in my stomach where feelings are dealt
With unique understanding that may prove to warn
That my place on the spectrum I may want to hide.

Ineffective I am at maintaining control
Of a face that won’t straighten to save its own skin.
Yet there is manic justice for those of a kind
Proud and wildly eccentric of deed and of mind.
No one need be concerned for the shape that I’m in.
Redefining absurdity may be my goal.

Cleaning Up

Untidy Tasks

There’s not one thing more hairy than one fat-assed bear
With the mind of an infant who looks like a clown.
He’s become a big problem whom I must engage
In some manner effective, albeit with rage.
He’s by now an attraction to folks from uptown.
They should pay me commission for all that I care.

Normally, I keep track of what takes place at home.
A buffoon of a house guest makes poor furniture.
A big furry fat butt in my window could sneeze
Then my whole house would reek of honey processed cheese.
Infected by calamity, I need a cure
From the toxic effect of the Screw Bear syndrome.

I can be rather nasty when I lose my cool
With this dim witted dipshit from La-la Lowland.
I must maintain composure with my dickhead guest

Even though, in my mind, he’s a two ended pest.
The best end, nonexistent, is what I can’t stand.
It would be hard to make this jerk feel like a fool.

I may sound a bit harsh. I’ve had all I can take
Of this bear’s belly bullshit. Help this creature needs
Of the kind I can’t offer if you get my drift.
What I need is someone with a rugged forklift
I have grown to hate much that on which the thing feeds.
I suppose things could get worse if he were a snake.

Unforeseen Man Effect

Unexpected Outcomes

Just a bit out of kilter with cause and effect,
I’m completely irrational. As I behave,
Unforeseen consequences betray my intent.
If I know what might happen why can’t that prevent
The chaos and calamity, as if I crave
Inconvenient surprises? I fail to expect.

Like a bolt of blue lightning, a flash of insight
To my head does a number on what was just thought.
Energized, then, the new ones branch far out of reach
Of my will to restrain them as well as my speech,
Out of fear that by some mind reader I’ll be caught.
I mean harm to no one, but does this make it right?

I can stretch a good sudden as if it were made
Of the silliest putty the mind can conceive.
With supreme elasticity instants expand
So that I can respect them as objects most grand
To the tale that a bone from a man became Eve.
To release me from bullshit, I’m on a crusade.

Arrogance does become me. I’ll not let it show.
Like all gentle young ladies I’ll fake a back seat.
Side effects of behaviors I will not express
Nor my number one purpose for being, unless
It will cause a disruption or maybe defeat
Of the primary cause of our failure to grow.

Too Astringent Of Thought

Difficulty Thinking Clearly

“Get your dick out of neutral and into high gear,”
Says the brain to the monkey who lives down below.

But it gets the wrong message and wants to jerk off
With its prehensile tail. Who on earth wouldn’t scoff?
The miscommunication causes oneself woe.
Nothing but instant messaging mitigates fear.

Mental activity is the run of the day.
It may run my ass ragged but not so my head
Which resembles a helmet when I’m in the mood.
More nonsensical content may make me less rude
To all creatures within me. There’s not enough said
In dick-headed delightfulness in a weird way.

Tolerant of a tickling, an outrageous nerve
Is the hair up the opening into the heart.
Expectations are futile and vain with regard
To erecting meat noodle and keeping it hard.
This is good stuff to know. Take it from an old fart
Who’s had more of his share of madness to observe.

 How lukewarm a reception awaits the debut
Of a fool in a fun house unfettered by shame?
Distorted mirror images do reveal some
Of the astringent nature I must overcome.
Masturbating the mind is a time honored game
One can play privately or right out in plain view.

Of Genuine Interest

"Calling Occupants Of Interplanetary Craft"

Citizens of the universe, lend me your ears!
What Of Genuine Interest have I to say
To the galaxies and to the planets therein?
Let me pull out my list. Now, where do I begin?
I cannot start by uttering, “Have a nice day.”
That may come near the ending along with some cheers.

I’m concerned not about simply speaking my piece
Of the puzzle I’m fitting. I care about life
As it is on my earth. To be perfectly clear
Mine is one world confounded by hatred and fear.
Are there others out there who know more about strife?
Is there some way in heaven our sorrows may cease?

This is not a distress call. I’m just reaching out
In the blind. I know someone is able to hear,
And I will get your message when you do reply.
I will sense an odd feeling that I can’t deny,
And unlike any other it will be damned clear
To my alien nature with no sense of doubt.

Speaking not out of boredom nor desperate plea,
There’s no hint of ill motive nor notion oblique
To inspired understanding as I’m greeting you.
First Contacting is something I’m just thrilled to do.
Satisfaction in knowing is all that I seek,
And, in line with my purpose, I want more to see.

Too Hot To Trot

Enhanced Desire

A bare chested young man on a horse is a sight
For those eyes seeking service to more body parts.
In the heat of adventure, the he-man aware
Fully of all his assets, will show some with care
Not to incite a pussy fight or break the hearts
Of the many whose passion he’s prone to ignite.

Let the horse do the trotting, The man is too hot.
It’s a bother. Besides, it would be a disgrace
To be walking the beast when control must be shown.
It gets wet the young ladies and gets them to moan
While engaged in a fantasy dripping in place.
Should he keep a shirt handy to soak up the spot?

  Aggressive is his nature yet soft to the touch
So that with the right female good sex can take place.
If she is strong and healthy and has proper genes
They’ll commence copulation by various means.
It’s the means nature uses to maintain our race.
Her control supersedes his by so more than much.

He must strut for some action as male creatures do.
The performance is judged and assessment is made
As to aesthetic value and genuine worth.
Being that we have dominion over the earth
What could be more exciting a hot escapade
Than to banish the urge to reinvent the screw.

To Your Advantage

Recognition Of The Lucky Brake

What has power to influence what kind of luck
One would hope to encounter? Or should one ask Who?
Is it one supreme consciousness from which comes all
That can be known or unknown but by divine call?
Either way, here’s a shout out for all that you do
To support my existence. I rarely get stuck.

As I make fresh connections in new surroundings
Opportunity infiltrates into the air
That becomes a strong current propelling me to
Whatever I imagine. Your wishes come true
As do mine. My advantage is just that I care
Less about lavish lifestyles of wannabe kings.

Love and beauty are foremost in mind and in heart
And it helps to have good taste. The choices I make
Affect not only me but the whole world at large.
Not a single day ends until I’ve taken charge
Of my crumb from the cheese chunk while fully awake.
Acting as nature guides me, I’m playing my part.

Willingness to reach compromise is a fine trait
Among earth’s many creatures. How all get along
Is by cooperating, mostly – not by war.
History keeps account of the bloodshed and gore.
Memorizing and exalting hell is damned wrong!
All it does is rekindle the torches of hate.

I’m Not Moving!

Resistance To Convention

Unexpected events are a strain on my nerves
And the one who provokes me as well has issues
That are most incompatible with what I need.
And I don’t need a master who’s out to impede
My agenda incessantly. I’ll not amuse
Someone who’s a control freak no creature deserves.

Understanding there’s turmoil in most people’s lives,
I want nothing to do with the problems they make
For myself and for all with whom they interact.
And this jerk with an attitude need to learn tact.
A good ram to the crotch I would give for his sake.
I’d read to him the riot act ‘til help arrives.

Time to scrutinize motives I take when I can
Muster up enough effort to put up a fight.
Solid figures of obstinance cannot be moved
If the act of the mover needs to be improved.
I’m one son of an anvil who you can’t excite.
Tie my ass in a knot if you think you’re a man.

When I need some attention I will let you know.
Beasts of burden among workers have equal rights
Among nature’s own flawless immutable laws.
I would appreciate it if you’d keep your paws
To yourself unless you would prefer to see lights
In an unconscious state from a lethal head blow.

Eagerness For Input

Emotionally Stimulated Intellect

More in touch with my feelings than usual, I
Need someone to depend on who isn’t all there.
There can be no confusion when I’m in control
Of intimate surroundings. My geek-hearted soul
Gets a surge of excitement that none can compare.
No commitment but pleasure and joy do apply.

I must think that my weird ass is having some fun
All alone in my living room floating in air
In the comfort and privacy of my own home
Where salacious affairs of the consciousness roam.
I won’t make this a bad habit, just to be fair
To the people who know me. What harm can be done?

Not a part of this body is made without nerves
And them buggers git sensitive once in a while.
My solution, though fantasy, really feels nice.
If I weren’t so damned digital would I think twice
About virtual intercourse? With a big smile
I will slam dunk that nookie as justice deserves.

Much to be said is wordless so it shall remain
In the realm of complete inexpressible thought.
What one finds sentimental another may feel
That the source of sensation is somewhat surreal.
If I keep it low keyed I may never get caught.
I want one to think I’m perversely insane.

Goddess Pee Tea

Exotic Devotion

In the realm of The Goddess no human resides
Unless washed by the waters of infinite grace
Whereupon they become saturated in love.
They return to the earth plane in dampness thereof
To proclaim their allegiance and keep a straight face
Among those who, in dryness, avoid loving tides.

Giving guidance to mankind is nature’s last call
To the race in a rat race to spring its own trap
By devices most cheesy with dankness of smell
Like the one that’s maintained for the waste water well.
We’d eliminate dryness if we gave a crap
For magnificent moisture for one and for all.

We must get enough water if we’re to survive
And we must have it daily. There’s no other way
For the body to function at its proper peak.
To believe in The Goddess need one be a freak?
Or is that just a side effect meant to display
Her intent to format the internal hard drive?

Drinking pee from The Goddess sounds rather perverse.
Any context imaginable by the one
With no sense of abandon may be hard to see.
The Goddess has no body, so drinking her pee
Is some mystical weirdness extracted from fun
And presented in jest as a cognitive curse.

Where within all the bleakness does one find relief
From the damned daily deluge of drama deranged?
Dark delusions delivered do dampen our days.
Pretty soon we’ll be dancing and giving up praise.
May the power of pussy restore the estranged
Through the magic of wetness in female belief.

Conditioned By Habit

Fast Pased Life

Fast paced living demands a big chunk of the soul.
If it’s crammed in a briefcase, its size becomes small
Bits and pieces of lifetime blown clear from one’s own
Sense of self, and achievement gets way overblown.
Too much haste in one’s habits invites the brick wall
Surely to be encountered in reaching that goal.

I’m somewhat automatic and set in my ways
But my wavelength is greater as I come of age.
No longer in the rat race, I wear not a tie.
I’m no longer a slave that some outfit may buy.
I attend to my business at home in my cage
In a state of fulfillment through most of my days.

The more noble obsessions are those where the heart
Slows the passage of time so that more can bee seen
Of the good, bad, and ugly deeds willfully done
While alive on the planet. I bow to no one
But in deepest humility, in my routine
Is a prayer giving thanks that I play but a part.

I’m conditioned by habit as most people are.
We are creatures of such as has often been said.
And with moods and emotions, the fearful ego
Needs too much damned attention. This just goes to show
That, Conditioned By Habit, all will end up dead
For the sheer stress of living is none but bizarre.

Thinking Compulsively

Locked Into Focused Attention

If the mind can be opened can it then be locked
So that thoughts in its chamber can find no escape?
If confined in this manner how does on behave?
Does one look for another one’s mind to deprave?
Does one need but a mind to perform mental rape
Because evil is too much fun not to concoct?

I’m obsessed with ideas and preoccupied
With interrogating everything that I know.
What I don’t know is questionable just as well.
I would hope there is worth in what I think and tell.
My mind is more than open. That’s why the words flow
Like the falls of Niagara. I’m rather wide.

It may border on nonsense. The things that I say
Have their own kind of meaning. But meaning, as such,
Has its way of opposing itself in the mind
Due to its fickle nature. Therefore I’m resigned
To not being disabled nor soft to the touch.
Inasmuch as there’s some hurt I’ll get through my day.

Tending to my suspicions of all that exists
And of much of what does not is fair exercise
For the mind in the mundane and madly mainstream.
I’m aware from the git go that life is no dream.
It takes not a disaster to open my eyes
To the reality that compulsion enlists.

Taking The Initiative

Acting On The Decision

Is there something to do while I’m here having fun
With a whole mess of others? Then let it be shown
So at least I’ll consider the choice I should make.
It may take me some time because I’m not awake
In this dream park theater into which I’m thrown.
Tell me when my evolving is truly begun.

People’s efforts can influence how I behave.
I need not pay attention to most social cues.
I am mob-like in essence. I follow the crowd
Even if they do things that do not make me proud.
Self-assured, I have no self nor soul left to lose.
I will seek out a leader who thinks I’m a slave.

This may be what I want. For myself I can’t speak.
Give me input from others so I can relax
In the comfort of ignorance. I like beer too.
If a justice admits that to not just a few
Then it must be important for me not to tax
Myself with any virtue. Indeed I’ll stay weak.

Confidence in my courage is what I require.
I can’t get that from others. Is this making sense?
If it is, take your freedom to know who you are
On the path of becoming your own shining star.
Life is for entertainment, but at whose expense?
All it takes is believing you can self-inspire.

Immersed In Empathy

Emotional Dream World

Empathy for humanity’s seeming turmoil
Is a given among those who live and breathe air
And perhaps among spirits who’ve seen it all pass
Into cycles recurrent for our troubled mass.
It’s enough to feel something. Divine is to care
That we may find redemption. At this, some recoil.

Puzzling situations that boggle the mind
All condense into immense singularity.
And the human condition is one that I live
As its mirror reflection. What I wouldn’t give
For a relevant clue that would help me to see
Through the game life is playing! I would be more kind.

A jolt of the mysterious in every while
Is a kinder description for what is now seen
Through the eye that beholds this conundrum with awe
Of the utter viral nature of human flaw.
Can we do something like global mental hygiene?
And is there no reaction to shock but to smile?

The emotional balance I seek I may find
In the moment reluctance to fear can be caught
And the right choice is obvious. Then all makes sense…
Or, at least, what’s around me in this rather dense
Fluid of an existence while steeped in deep thought.
Maybe I could relax more my mental behind.

Interview

Your Most Martian Worth

What indeed is your dick length… and girth, I might add?
Do you earn at least six figures and own a yacht?
If you do then you’re qualified to take your place
Among all of my suitors. Do not fall from grace.
You profess to be manly and too hot to trot.
Can you feel quite the same with your ego unclad?

What I want is good chemistry. Do you make nice?
Your pleasant conversation may be to your good.
It’s somewhat energizing. You put on a show
Just for my entertainment. I’d like you to know
I seek vulnerability in your manhood.
You may now tell your story, but make it concise.

Are you stable emotionally? Or do you
Make your heated aggressions a part of your style?
I’ll assume that you are, since you didn’t speak up.
Can you handle my nagging and whine like a pup?
If you can we may play out our roles for a while.
If you don’t cut the muster, I’ll bid you adieu.

I believe in equality. If you do too
Then you’ll know I’m superior in every way.
I’m the same as the goddess of nature and love.
I can be most assertive with no need to shove.
Listen carefully to all that I have to say
And good luck. I have applications to review.

Plupiter – Juto Confusion

Dis-Armageddon

There’s this misunderstanding about certain things
In the cosmos and how they are apt to behave.
If Uranus is nasty what can make it clean?
In conjunction with Mars it would have to stay mean
Depending on which house it would choose to enslave.
No one looks forward to what this mad aspect brings.

Other configurations are more important
Than are some because some are much weaker than those
With significant power to do some real harm.
It is my honored duty to sound the alarm
And refute information from deep dark shadows
And there’s no one around who can tell me I can’t.

There’s a Plupiter – Juto Confusion afoot.
It is wreaking some havoc in most people’s minds.
These are two way out planets. They both have much pride.
It’s not often the paths of these two coincide.
When they do there is bigness of truth of all kinds.
It’s a major event with a lethal output.

Be prepared in the long run to be not without
Strength of purpose that cosmic confusion can’t beat.
Take a break from the nonsense and learn the real thing.
Such a world of enlightenment this act will bring.
Stellar chatter is often a form of deceit.
Make sure what you digest is most pure without doubt.

Getting Things Done

Service On The Spot

I consider good hygiene important enough
That I depend on others to get proper care.
Their professional expertise is to die for.
That which oneself can do for oneself is a chore.
Offers of special services sometimes are rare.
It’s a blessing receiving them when times are tough.

Orderly state of mind and self-discipline are
What I need for survival or just feeling fine.
I see them as the same. No confusion I’ll buy
Nor am I opposed to flashing balls to the sky
To get needed attention. Their work is divine.
I am glad I know many who are up to par.

No abstract speculation will my mind endure
For more than a split second before my defense
Comes to full-on alert, then the thought fades away.
I’m too darned awful busy to mess up my day
With delusions of shame, which to me don’t make sense.
What I want from life is to be groomed and secure.

So, by law I’m pragmatic. Conservative views
Aligned with mother nature’s are what I must own.
Sense of duty becomes me as I become real.
The best thing about Getting Things Done is to feel
As the getting proceeds toward a contented moan.
Perhaps I get more done than, at times, I would choose.

Toward An Ease At Performing

Mission of Passion

For some, life is a mission of major import
And assigned by a master they know is within
And a part of all drama both seen and unseen.
It must take a good team to repair a bad spleen.
Some jobs are not for people whose patience is thin.
One can only respect performers of this sort.

Do they make it look easy? I can’t answer that.
What I’d seen on TV long ago can’t be real
Nor could it even come close. As far as I know
Miracles are performed daily, and they bestow
Restoration of function. A lot they can heal.
Because practice makes perfect, they have much down pat.

Clearly out of the limelight and main public view
Work is done with true diligence and with a cause
Most aligned with their natures in service to all.
One may notice there isn’t the sent of Lysol.
Alcohol they use mostly as it mostly was
Easiest to procure for the work that they do.

Easy is their performance to those who may see
Not the act behind curtains drawn. Only the few
Who are privy to witness what is taking place
In the spaces where folk rely on divine grace
To ensure that the team will indeed pull one through
Get to know the real deal. Should it matter to me?

Sudden Rebellion

A Time To Act Out

To protest the rebellion of others, must I
See it not as a backlash to powers that be
All up into my business? I must cry out loud.
This damned lesson is boring, and you are endowed
With the charm of Bo Peep. Don’t you dare counsel me!
Your own kids are more like you so give them a try.

This is not a revolt. I’m just speaking my mind
And mine is of a substance that can’t go to waste
At the whim of established ways far from the truth.
Put an end to the bullshit you feed to your youth.
Others will do their own thing. You all are slow-paced
In my humble opinion. I won’t be unkind.

My compulsive behavior comes as a surprise
Because it’s not expected. We need to behave.
Laws for you and for us keep all safer indeed.
What is true we must know. That is our greatest need.
You have left us with one screwed up planet to save.
If you think we don’t know this you’re not very wise.

We perceive hidden tensions as all creatures do.
It’s a part of our nature to find what is real
Then to use the found data to formulate plans.
You know much more about that, and we’re in your hands
It is to your advantage to know how I feel.
Life is not complicated from my point of view.

The Weight Of The World

The Pain of the Earth

Can she still know her beauty when all she can feel
Is remorse and a heaviness deep in her soul?
Or do I just imagine that she will get well
While in comfort within her digestion I dwell?
Am I that much of notice as part of her whole?
I must then look upon her as someone most real.

Should her constant and nagging weight issues be mine?
Am I part of her problems by what I don’t know
For whatever the reason? How did I evolve
To become an infection for her to resolve
To the best of her knowledge? What debt do I owe
For my earthly existence? And is there a fine?

I must hope not to harm her and feel, if I do,
Where it hurts her the deepest and park my soul there.
There can only come healing when one step I take
Toward my clutter’s upheaval. To be more awake
To her subtle vibration is something to share.
Every moment eternal is also brand new.

Frustrating are restrictions. We place them upon
What she does, and she laughs. We do entertain well.
As a talented stepchild I may earn my keep
Finding ways to amuse her. It’s not a far leap
From the word soup perversity wherein I dwell.
I shall pay off my debt long before I am gone.

Breath Of The Beast

The Inscrutable Heat

The process of digestion for demons is like
Global Warming. A chill up the spine is a sign
That things are getting hotter and so much the same
As it was in the sixties. When breath is aflame
There can be no concluding that everything’s fine
Yet we’ll speak with a blow torch beyond the hot mike.

I do this, but I like it. Need I be concerned
That such creature I might be? My words may burn through
Any means that presents them. Then what have I done
But ignited my message so that I’ve reached none
But perhaps those who have heated breath as I do?
I don’t need to get with them. That lesson I’ve learned.

When I don’t harbor hot breath do I find relief
In the moment for not being part of the hell
That is sprung up around me? Or do I mistake
My delusion for innocence? Peace I must make
With the human machinery within I dwell.
The life spans of most demons is known to be brief.

The Trapped Child Within

A Fleeting Depression

There’s a child within each of us who never grows
To objective maturity. Youth must remain
As a polar reflection. Survival depends
On the health of both child and adult. And our friends
Are often therapeutic for sharing the pain
To elicit support. All this everyone knows.

I believe in self-discipline. As an adult
I must do some adjusting and put on an act
That conceals my pure innocence. Who am I then
But a set of instructions? Both women and men
Evolve toward self-awareness as evident fact.
But we don’t know each other. Behold the result.

Serious is the tone, and substantial issues
Surely fuel the frustration. Today’s will soon pass
‘Til the next shiny toy finds its way to my view.
There is much play that my child is willing to do
That my grownup façade makes me not a jackass.
This is just a reflection and meant to amuse.

Get A Mask!

Incumbent Departure

Get A Mask, valued countrymen, while supplies last!
Since this hoax is the real thing, I’ve got a great deal.
Stock up now on my Trump mask. The money you save
You can use to support me. I cannot behave
So I’ll need a small fortune. I’ve none to conceal
But I do have an unworthy financial past.

Get A Mask because I say you must show respect
To me as the one person who knows anything.
I’m surrounded by lions and tigers and bears
And, Oh My… a few assholes! But nobody cares.
Get your big discount coupon. I’ll need you to sing
To the tune of my victory. Then you’ll collect.

Why have I changed my tune so abruptly, you ask?
I must act presidential or give it a try
When I’m backed into corners. The oath that I took
Is a lie as I say it again. I’m A Crook.
You’ll support my campaign fund if you’d only buy
A huge bunch of my product. Be up to the task.

Why Did God Make The Clear Man?

Confronting Clarity

Why Did God Make The Clear Man? Their thin see-through skin
Is a damned thing to deal with. Why can’t they wear paint?
We are better than they because we are opaque.
Hopelessly they’re transparent. That God would forsake
Such a group means that part of our species they ain’t!
Have I right to condemn them? And where to begin?

I need something to piss on or rag on about.
It relieves me from feeling that I’m incomplete.
If I point to another all focus drawn there
Will then help me to bypass my own deep despair
That my kind is at war with its baseless conceit.
Any rights they have coming we’re eager to flout.

If you happen to be clear and human do know
That you cannot take personally how we all
Handle fear while we’re human, unless it hits home.
Then it becomes a dark place where demons will roam.
So be clear if you want to. It may be our fall
If we can’t be one species then we should all go.

There can be but one image from which all are made.
Logic clearly must dictate that diversity
Is the integral framework in all that exists.
So the infinite drama of raising our fists
May be as it must happen and always shall be.
Is our moving beyond this forever delayed?

oSphere

Cosmic Interdependence

We are here to support her. That tough girl, oSphere,
Faces fierce opposition from others than us.

What we do is a good thing. As we move through space
We surround her with influence as our embrace.
It reflects our own drama. Her offspring discuss
Way too little of us. It’s the root of their fear.

She’s our loving kid sister. oSphere, like a ball,
Provides something to play with. Do kids treat her well?
We can see that her health suffers from child abuse
In reverse as they use us as their lame excuse.
But we act in accordance not with the same spell
But the one cast upon the behaviors of all.

We could say we’re all family, and it is true
That oSphere needs attention. We do what we can
By performing our drama to show her the ways
Energies interact with free will. You may raise
Your vibration despite drama. That was the plan
And still is through eternity. What will you do?

oSphere is your dear mother. We uncles and aunts
Of your sole local sol group just want you to know
That we’ll keep on performing. The show must go on
So that all of God’s children become sacred spawn
Through divine intervention. Regard our fine show
As our teaching. oSphere has not all that she wants.

OutThere Outdareyaquine

The Team Player's Cure

Have you heard of his new drug? It’s really out there.
May our minds remain mangled. We love him to Death!
Anything he suggests not only will we try

But we’ll will our souls to him in case we may die.
The commander is chiefly of virulent breath
And it bothers us not that he just doesn’t care.

May the hoax elevate us in these final days
To the stature of manhood with God on our side.
Who alone can out dare us and keep a cold face?
We don’t care what he’s taking. Therefore no disgrace
Will he earn from we sick ones. We take utmost pride
In our silk-suited orange ape. To him we give praise.

The Fifth Avenue massacre is in full swing
And it takes place all over. No state will be saved.
As he keeps reaching out there he’ll grab the right cure
For ourselves and the unworthy. We shall endure
All that his dare subjects us to. We are depraved.
We’ve no sense of reality nor does our king.

The Daily Report

Much To Absorb

One who steps as he fetches is not a lame duck
Until cool aided followers come wide awake
To the fact that their leader is one quack away
From becoming a fine dinner served on a tray
For strong people of color and power who’ll take
Everything he may own. Am I in for good luck?

There are more germs on doorknobs than those at the end
Of the standard male organ. Keep Everything clean!
There are doors of all colors still out in the streets

Among those who have none nor that which one excretes.
And does anyone know the difference between
Virulent organisms and those that transcend?

Excuse this interruption… There’s news for your eyes!
This award winning product will make your eyes well.
From the makers of White Sight it makes you see right…!
Now, back to today’s headlines… on into the night.

You and we here can tell you we’re under a spell.
But if you’re not a messenger you may be wise.

And the forecast tomorrow…? It’s gonna get dark
Just the same as today was. There may be a chance
Of some light shown upon us to give all relief.
That is why our profession may make our lives brief.
While engaged with the drama, a delicate dance
Demonstrates that it will be no walk in the park.

Inward Harmony

Balance Between Conscious and Subconscious

Do I need to go inward to then run it down?
Or does running it downward come from deep within?
I’m not that good at questions. They do mess me up.
If I think there are answers I need a checkup
From the neck up and further. I’ll take my chagrin
With a smirk of acceptance instead of a frown.

Life is truly harmonious in a pig’s eye
If that eye is within me and does me no harm.
I’m not without when within the depths of my soul.
Does it not mean I can’t behave like an asshole?
I’ll leave that to the poets. I’ll give them alarm
Not because they deserve it. It just gets me high.

But about going inward to seek harmony…
Some achieve it by nature. The old in and out
Is a tried and true method of reaching that goal
But if that’s not an option, you’re not a lost soul.
Going inward eliminates much of the doubt
That my life and its meaning were all meant to be.

A Fleeting Flamboyance

The Loftier Side

In the cluster Flamboya in deep cosmic space
Spins a pitiful planet. One does take delight
In the notion that negative will cancel out
Anything that is like it with but a loud shout
But the throat becomes raw there so it isn’t quite
The best place for the soft spoken fettered with grace

Often I pay a visit there simply to see
How the elegant beings there get through their days.
And at times I am told It’s no business of mine.
I must say, “Very well, then. Your silence is fine.”
There’s a reason for courtesy that’s not always

At my ready avail when I’m other than me.

When I get back to earth usually I’ll find
That I might not have been there but made a mistake.
I may live in both places perhaps through time share.
Maybe that’s why at times they are hard to compare
While I sleep do I travel, or when I’m awake?
That is part of the puzzle that plays with the mind.

Recursive Assertion

Over Exposure of Ego

Do I hear a loud echo? And could it be me?
With the voices of others it’s so hard to tell.
Deep within a sound chamber enclosed by four walls
I can’t hear myself feeling amid all the calls
For a cure to psychosis and trickle down hell.
What’s become of this nation one clearly can see.

Knowing I’m not alone, need I know something more?
We’ve been made to feel helpless – not by a disease
Of a virulent nature, but by wholesale greed.
We The People are stronger not feeling in need
To succumb to the bullshit that everyone sees.
There’s a pimp in the white house, and we are the whore.

Justice comes hard and swiftly to those who are poor.
But it does not exist for the thugs now in charge.
Evil is the one threat that, if not kept in check,
Does take over the engine and cause a train wreck
That third world leaders envy. Our fate, by and large,
Is determined by what we are forced to ignore.

Advancing That Notion

Tactful But Fearless

Can I make an impression with just a big smile
And a tiger of confidence caged in my soul?
I most certainly doubt that most people would see
Any point that I make in a way that suits me
Unless it’s made brute forcefully. It is my goal
To make sure that I’m listened to once in a while.

Now, I can be quite sociable when I’m at ease
With not much to impart to my circle of friends.
But when I get a notion that people should hear
They’d damned well better listen or I’ll show them fear.
Would one feel that I’m right seeing life through my lens?
I’m one hell of a bastard to try to appease!

Otherwise I am charming and soft like a dove.
Never mind that my bat I may keep by my side.
Just pretend it’s not there if you think that I’m cool.
If I’m not it makes no sense to then play your fool.
All I want is respect. This not about pride.
When housekeeping is done we may speak about love.

Led To Excess

Too Much of a Mediocre Thing

Having fun while it lasts may be one thing to do
And another may be to command some restraint.
If I feel like indulging to my heart’s delight
Until something inside me is not feeling right
It will put out my wildfire. Then I will feel faint.
I’m way out of my league when I’ve too much to chew.

I exaggerate goodness, and sometimes that’s bad.
As my stomach grows smaller my eyes become big.
I just want to play hooky from any hard school
And behave as I please. Maybe acting the fool
May reveal if I’m human or much like a pig
With immutable entrails that are iron clad.

I’m not feeling like royalty alone while in place
So I notice the error in what has become
A new routine unstructured. Can I gain control
Of my loss of ambition and take back my soul
From confounded complacency? Life is ho hum
Until I take a moment to get off my case.

These Bowels

Entrails Exposed

These Bowels toil through the night just for you.
These times are hard enough to get through.
The onus on us is no urgent fuss.
You give us your trust, and we take it. We don’t fake it.

These Bowels Are Moving
These Bowels have seen a lot of waste
And they’re always gonna see another load when it comes from you.

These Bowels Are Moving
These Bowels have seen a lot of waste
And they’re always gonna see another load when it comes from you.

These Bowels Are Moving
These Bowels have seen a lot of waste
And they’re always gonna see another load when it comes from you.

These Bowels are working in support to your cause
This work we do with no thought to what was.
We do this for free. We hope you can see
That you’re worth it. Why not mirth it?

Joint And Final Affairs

Preponderant Emotional Encounter

Beginnings are like endings in so many ways
That they often are seamless. Sometimes we can’t tell
What they are or they are not so we are resigned
To accepting whatever our lost hope can find.
If it’s found in a place that competes with Bethel
Then it’s wise to prepare for this time’s final phase.

It’s not always a heartbreak. Sometimes there’s relief
From all feeling and thought for at least an eon.
Parting is no sweet sorrow. It has not a taste
Nor an alternate function but expelling waste.
When there’s peace in the parting, the prickle is gone.
So when looked at that way, one’s made out like a thief.

All affairs become final. Some blossom through age.
Others last for an instant to then pass away
To subconscious oblivion. Why are we here?
It has so much to do with how we handle fear.
There will be much rejoicing on that final day.
Until then, there’s this journey that I must engage.

Feel The Heat

Confidence In Relationships

Calculated, the coolness, through heart, comes erect.
Instantly, the eternal is taken to flight.
I’ll find gratification in what I create.
Immersed in self-expression while transforming hate
Into something aesthetic, I pray that I might
Have found just the solution that I can respect.

Life is less of a burden when energy flows
In accordance with patterns ordained by the nerves.
Passion pumps through the system to compress the air
To uplift sympathetically, with loving care,
Heated hearts of the spirit who truly deserves
Some relief from restrictions that life may impose.

Simple, friendly aggression, the kind felt in sport,
Yet with heart super-heated to such a degree
That it jumpstarts behavior is something to feel.
I can see life as mental but is my life real?
I cannot take for grated that which can move me
Toward creative fulfillment because life is short.

Livid Liver Of Life

Arrhythmic Logic

Livid Liver Divided By One Over Life
Equals some kind of symbol. But don’t ask me now
What the hell it might stand for. It’s damned to make sense
If my wrath be the dearth of me. I’ll take offense
To any mathematics who cannot allow
The lost least of life livers who linger in strife.

So, I’m pissed off a lot. Any liver would be
In full-on agitation as numbers prevail
In the lives of all livers so lives loom in lack.
I’m so livid I’m prone to a liver attack.
My inverse multiplicative is doomed to fail
If I don’t get an answer immediately.

I’m an arrogant liver and often too proud
Of a life I’ve imagined but haven’t lived out.
Must I then mind the meaning of what I have lost?
When my math doesn’t add up who suffers the cost?
I intuit without any semblance of doubt
That my anger won’t fix things. That can’t be allowed.

False Optimism

The Devil Beware

This is not quite the best time to quit my day job.
I could learn a few lessons as time is my friend.
Must I learn how to tune life if I want to play
With all fresh water fishermen? What a fine day
To make hay of confusion! I need not depend
On a firm grip on anything but a doorknob.

I don’t seem to be practical, but that’s ok.
Luck I keep in spare pockets for times such as these.
Quantum physics explains things pure logic cannot
And provides good excuses for times that are fraught
With an intrinsic weirdness that weakens the knees.
Though my hope is unfounded, I’ll have it my way.

Not a soul needs to worry. I think I’ll do fine.
The outlook is outstanding. My freak is full on.
The whole gig is nocturnal – from dusk unto dusk.
If I seem inefficient and all the while brusk
It’s because of the real threat of impending dawn.
I work best in the dark where my talent can shine.

Be Kind To The Toilet

Toilet Temperament

Do be kind to your toilet. It takes tons of crap.
Though that’s what it was made for, it wants for a break
From the forceful expulsion of vile human waste
From a family of asses whose bowels are fast paced.
It performs well its duty, but make no mistake
What it has to put up with feels much like a trap.

Connected to the sewer or some funky place,
What is gulped down is passed with each masterful flush.
Never mind where that stuff goes. It’s clear out of sight.
Vanishing if by magic, it only seems right.
Whether solid and serpentine or just a mush
It will make it go bye bye. What provident grace!

That old bowl needs a cleaning once every short while.
It informs you of that in its own special ways.
But it needs more attention. It likes to stay clean.
It wants someone to talk to. On whom can it lean?
So, converse with your toilet and give it due praise.
It will bless you profusely and keep a big smile.