Archive | February 2019

The Sieve That I Live

TheMagicRealist.com

I don’t know where I’m leaking nor do I know why
What goes in and goes out of me I can’t believe
Makes that much of a difference in what I am.
Yet I do feel I’m part of a vital program
Of some kind. And the people who use me may leave
With a sense of fulfillment. So, why then can’t I?

I believe I am stainless, though not made of steel.
Life does not happen to me but for me instead
So that when by my handling impatience collides
With the will of establishment life then provides
Opportunity to recoup and move ahead.
There’s some sense of suspension in all that I feel.

Sometimes I feel the stuff of life, gross in its form,
Saturate deep within me. I engage the flow.
Do I make the decision which cup I’m dipped in?
Or does life absolutely condemn me to sin?
Are these questions I dare ask? Or should I just know
It is best that the water not become lukewarm?

Move Forward In Life

TheMagicRealist.com

There’s a way to move forward. It’s all in the flow
With my fellow electrons throughout the highway.
Every run through the circuitry is a complete
Orchestration of happenings that will repeat
Pretty much in the same way. I’ll call it a day.
The path is made available for all to know.

But we can’t proceed backwards. That is not allowed
Because in time, AC is not what we perceive.
We think only in DC. Time has direction.
We can play with time in the mind and have some fun.
Our perceptions are stronger though. So, we believe
Moving forward at full current makes us all proud.

Often I lose direction, but not every day.
And whenever that happens, I’m called to assess
Which parts of my own circuitry are still alive
And which parts suffer burnout and tend to deprive
Me volition of voltage to manage my mess.
Living in simple series can be the right way.

Harmony

Can I speak of world peace from a heart that may doubt
It could come about ever? For granted it’s true
That I must feel harmonious from deep within
Before I go crusading to cast away sin.
Even if I could do that, it belittles you
In a way that my fervor renders me devout.

Do not look up to anyone and don’t look down
On another who’s made of the same stuff I am.
Don’t put folks on a pedestal where they may fall
And do not disrespect others I feel are small.
If it’s such a tall order, is it an exam
Where I am to be noticed should I wear a frown?

I can get really pissed off and livid with rage.
Other folks also have the volition to fight
In acute preservation of identity.
Does an eye for an eye cause each other to see
That our precious illusions can never be right?
Habits formed over decades are so hard to change.

We can all live in harmony. There’s no such thing
As a global solution. All begins with me
And with each of my species. We’ve evolved thus far
Toward potential magnificence. That’s who we are.
And often I forget that. Well… Oh, golly gee.
May my emancipation help make the world sing.

TRANSACTION DECLINED!

TheMagicRealist.com

Your account has been locked! You’ve been paying your bills
And we don’t like to see it. Suspicious is that
The most recent activity these past few days
Tells us that you’ve been spending in flamboyant ways.
Don’t you know we’re your parents, you poor little brat?
We’re at service to fuck with your life for cheap thrills.

It’s too bad it’s the weekend. We aren’t alive now.
Although you may be, we cease existence at five
Every Friday, then come back on Monday at nine.
You can hold your breath that long. Things will work out fine.
Even though it’s your money, we’ve right to deprive
Access to it at anytime fate may allow.

So, you’re stuck at the cashier? TRANSACTION DECLINED!
That should get your blood pumping and loosen that bowel.

Now, just give us a call. We WILL keep you on hold
Then interrogate you with an attitude bold.
We’ve succeeded when we sense that your mood is foul.
And in step with your credit score, you are defined.

Oh, you don’t speak Tagalog nor can understand
Foreign accents uttered over bad connections
From a call center thousands of miles from your mind?
We don’t have to remind you you’re of the wrong kind
To speak with us directly, as we are the ones
Who depend upon others to market our brand.

Popularia Febrifica

TheMagicRealist.com

The most Popular Fever afflicting the souls
And the hearts of some women who’ve reached middle age
Is concern for the herbal as a remedy
For related discomfort. Some indulge in tea
Hoping that lofty promises are a true gauge
Of their product’s effectiveness and of its goals.

It can be in Pueraria if it’s the best
And exotically cared for by smart native elves
Who imprint their indigenous blessings upon
Every magical fiber from midnight ‘til dawn.
What we would call Mirific, they would not themselves.
To remember the names of things is the big test.

One can bang out an aria on a keyboard.
It could be that Pueraria is a mistake
Because taking it may wreak some havoc, at worse.
To the volatile body it could be a curse.
When it’s safe to experiment for one’s own sake
Then wellbeing for all women will be restored.

A Living

TheMagicRealist.com

What I do for a living is cast to the wind
Every breath I am given. I breathe every day.
Some may say that’s not working. It earns not a wage.
But we all are paid actors upon the world stage.
Everyone makes a living by breathing their way
To the ultimate calling that one can’t rescind.

Do we choose our professions or do they choose us
Through a whirlwind of circumstance factored from fate?
Some are so well advised as to what they should do
That they end up bewildered because they aren’t true
To their true heart’s desire. This doesn’t feel great.
One becomes in a short time an ornery cuss.

Take you breath for a living and give back your best.
The earth’s plants will respect you and give in return
What you need for maintaining. If you call that pay
Then the earth will support you in every which way.
Only if you stop breathing should there be concern.
What I do for a living is know that I’m blessed.

Infinite Speed

TheMagicRealist.com

One can think of the infinite in terms of speed.
It’s a concept so pregnant with possible change
That the study of human behavior can be
Broken down into basics that most can agree
Form a framework where no concept is seen as strange.
Human consciousness, when it’s bound, wants to be freed.

Any unified theory worth most of its salt
Has precise explanations for everything known.
Puzzle pieces are processed and put into place
To explain all there is to a bored human race.
I’ve come up with a theory. I guess it’s home grown.
That I am not a physicist am I at fault?

If a something of any kind travels so fast
That there is nothing faster, then does it make sense
That it does exist everywhere and all the time?
And if so, would that make singularity prime?
There is only one actor designed to dispense
Its expressive identity through the whole cast.

What Manner Of Cule

TheMagicRealist.com

When caught up in the minuscule one must take note
That a cule can minus but nothing much more.
There’s no word such as pluscule. This should give us pause.
Bigness has no derivative in grammar laws.
Among adjectives equality we ignore
As a consequence of the outlook we promote.

Many words have a culeness about them these days
Thanks in part to advances in science. There are
Cules of every variety, way, shape and form
Punctuating perceptions. They’ve become the norm.
Cule can also mean cute and cool. It’s a bizarre
Little word that means both. So, in short, it is praise.

Any self-righteous wordsmith considers the cule
A suffix of some suffrage. Narrowness takes
A long time to flush through what evolves of our speech.
Language can be machinelike. It can also teach
People how to think critically for their own sakes
And those of those who feel that they are no one’s fool.

Inescapable Ease

TheMagicRealist.com

People can suffer burnout from doing too much.
At the point of exhaustion some choose to go on
Until illness becomes a part of the whole mix.
Doctors’ pills and procedures are peddled to fix
That which has become broken. Conclusions foregone
Demonstrate how we’ve shifted from nature and such.

As is so of our bodies, the earth is alive.
Inescapable Ease is her method of choice.
As she meditates for a brief time everyday
Many creatures upon her will see it her way.
Every part of her body can feel her rejoice.
We can make what we want of our quest to survive.

Nationalistic notions devolve, in due course
Of their own lack of life force, to pathology
Of the mind, heart and spirit. So, do take the time
To invest in serenity and life sublime.
Take the load off the overworked secondary
Winding of you transformer and get with your source.

Any Jesus In Ya?

TheMagicRealist.com

Jesus is not a genie who comes from a lamp
In the form of frankincense, smoky and obscure
Nor does he hang in churches disguised as a flame.
All our vessels are magic lamps. We are the same.
Jesus makes himself known through the heart that is pure
And knows nothing of winning although he’s a champ.

Jesus was not a ‘good’ man. He pissed people off!
A major source of disruption he was to all
Who were tied to the ruling regime of that day.
Otherwise, he was wonderful. He’d often pray
And do magic by healing folks until his fall.
Anything heard about him made mean people scoff.

That he does live within us is nonsense to some
And to others, nothing could be further from truth.
All that is esoteric is rooted in fact.
There is conscious decision in how people act.
Does it make sense to seek out a sayer of sooth
When there is but one’s rigidness to overcome?

Quincunx – Quoutcunx

TheMagicRealist.com

Is it Quoutcunx or Quincunx? Surely the mind spunks
As it struggles with the occult art of the stars.
To clear up the confusion I loathe to indulge
An infusion of something that makes the brain bulge.
I know that since my Pluto is square to my Mars,
My ego is cast into precarious funks.

Every moment exists as a snapshot in time.
The cosmos is a mobile suspended by grace
Of a great force, perhaps through its conscious intent
To set into slow motion a massive event.
Observations through eons recorders retrace.
They re-correlate happenings when times are prime.

What goes into a horoscope is lots of care
To decipher the moment in question for those
Who need some reassurance that life makes some sense.
There is no need to come to this odd art’s defense.
When in search of self-knowledge, I do not oppose
Some commitment to study. That is only fair.

A Fatter Of Mact

TheMagicRealist.com

Is the mact of the fatter that it is in need
Of explaining itself to the mind inside out?
Keystrokes built from a mirror reflecting the soul
Differentiate sameness from parts of the whole.
Is the brain not so wired the one we should doubt,
Or the one that is normal and of a good breed?

The brain processes images like the birds fly.
All of one mind, in unison, they are a force
Of unfettered fluidity. Some break away
On their own and quite often. So, who is to say
That the way people see things, as matter of course,
Is a lethal indictment that they can’t deny.

People see eye to eye only when they want to.
It’s a free will decision. We can educate
And in turn seek our own knowing from the vast whole
Of an in-touch humanity. What is my goal?
Could it be just to say things and stir up debate?
Intent moves me to action and will to pursue.

Undying Devotion To Life

TheMagicRealist.com

The new baby is home now. She’s such a delight.
The old home is made new again. All is aglow.
Just to hold her is heavenly. A magic charm
She becomes to the family. She will disarm
Built up concern about her that she shouldn’t know.
Through our focus upon her we do what is right.

As she’s seen as the highest lifeform in the home
All around are enlightened. Wellbeing takes hold.
New life makes the world healthy. Can this one debate?
Anyone who would do so is mired in hate.
The birth of an idea innocently bold
Is the chance for fulfillment and freedom to roam.

Earth gives birth to all living things. This we all know.
Can we call ourselves ‘precious?’ Why even go there?
Keep the bullshit subconscious and buried with Freud
Because when that stuff surfaces folks get annoyed.
The earth is super-consciousness, just to be fair.
Our devotion to living makes living things grow.

Asleep At The Urinal

TheMagicRealist.com

Stay awake, my old friend. You seem lost in a trance
And your hard, heavy breathing is almost a snore.
It does take a long time for that bladder to drain,
But at least it is steady. There isn’t much strain.
Goodness Grace! Is this what growing old has in store?
Have I time to develop my urinal stance?

Just hang in there, old timer. It will take a while.
In the meantime, however, I’ll hang by your side.
The old plumbing is pensive in its simple task.
That it carry on smartly is all one would ask.
Since we are somewhat private, there’s no pride to hide.
Though your body may trick you, I shall not beguile.

Urinating in unison while holding hands
Is one way that a fellow can help an old friend
Through the process. While daydreaming, he may fall down
Then become an old geyser. You’d become a clown!
Give the man’s hand a manly squeeze. He may depend
On that firmness that only he could understand.

Difference And Remainder

TheMagicRealist.com

Difference And Remainder – two separate words,
One is used in subtraction. The other, reserved
For division, can offer confusion for some
But not so difficult it can’t be overcome.
Since in math, all distinctions must be well observed,
It is best to respect them – at least for the nerds.

Difference between minuend and subtrahend
Is the heart of one matter. Words aim to make sense.
So, the minuend is the big number on top
Though it can be the small one but it does not drop
To the bottom. It will not commit that offense.
That which is to be taken is what we suspend.

Now, there could be a difference that still remains.
But remainders are leftovers from the process
Of division when all grouping is not exact.
What remains may be wanted or banished from fact.
Differences are treated, then, just a tad less
Than remainders. Is this why the weary child strains?

Death Of A Pixel

TheMagicRealist.com

What’s the root cause of pixel death? We all should know
Because death among pixels is something most rare.
Are the screens they appear upon made to outlast
Every last pixel’s life span? I would say no fast!
Things aren’t made for longevity and folks don’t care.
But for some, such a dead spot puts on a tough show.

Promulgation of pixel health is something done
At the time of their making through careful process
And en masse by machinery at micro scale.
One would think then that equality must prevail.
When the ass of a pixel makes my mind a mess
I must know that it can’t up and do that for fun.

 Pixels made of near nothingness can coexist
With the realms of pure spirit somewhat easily.
And if they retain consciousness, then when they die,
Each exists as a waveform related to pi.
Every pixel or person who wants to be free
Must have full right to do so although they are missed.

The Thirst Of Theodore Thlitlinger

TheMagicRealist.com

I am Theodore Thurston Thlitlinger, the third.
I’d been thrust into thirsthood since my thirsty birth.

That is why that my middle name was chosen well.
It conforms to the substance that I will not sell.
It’s been said I could drink everything on the earth
But that is surely gossip not well overheard.

A few thirds of my drinking I do while awake
While with others I dream about drinking scot free
Of discrete condescension or even outright.
If someone mocks my drinking I’ll put up a fight.
Thoroughly through the thickening inside of me,
Lavishing of liquidity is for my sake.

I am third in a short line of proud drinking men.
Though we all are Thlitlingers, we each have a theme
Separate from the others. Theatrically
Therapeutic in thankfulness, we can agree
That our thoughts are thalassic and like a daydream.
When they’re drunk in compassion, it can be like Zen.

Rainy Days And Mondays

TheMagicRealist.com

…Talking to myself but feeling sane.
Some days there is no sun.
Does that mean I can’t have fun?
…Stuck for a while, but it doesn’t cramp my style.
Rainy Days And Mondays Always Make Me Smile.

What I’ve got I would not care to know.
People mostly don’t like rain.
I delight in the mundane.
Is this exile? Then so is my Facebook profile.
Rainy Days An Mondays Always Make Me Smile.

…Funny but it seems that weather can’t be predicted with ease.
…Nice to know there’s human error.
Unrequited flames may rekindle as raindrops concede to appease.
Solitude is the preparer.

It’s a blessed day. I could not ask for more.
People tend to stay inside.
With their own stuff they’re preoccupied.
I am an isle. It doesn’t mean that I am hostile.
Rainy Days An Mondays Always Make Me Smile.

No Toga Yoga

TheMagicRealist.com

It’s been vogue to take yoga as something to spread
Like a condiment onto the cusp of the soul.
Yoga is something once taught by only a few.
Nowadays anyone with a promise will do
For attaining enlightenment. This is the goal
Of the one who is captive inside of one’s head.

It is quite irresponsible to seek someone
Or some book or a video. These are the wares
That evolve because people must sell to survive.
Some may be underhanded with will to connive.
Yoga takes much commitment from the one who cares
That the practice embarked upon won’t be undone.

The industrial era gave birth to great change.
Scientific development grew at a pace
To where there was much quackery. Science became
Something scoffed at tainted. This brought science shame.
Clarity and strict discipline has regained grace.
Now there is much consensus on what is called strange.

To be calm in the spirit and have peace of mind
And of body is everyone’s ultimate quest.
But the old ones who’ve mastered this lifelong technique
Are unfortunately not who most people seek.
One proceeds well in life when one is not obsessed
With someone with a blindness who’s leading the blind.

A Funny Story

TheMagicRealist.com

Once an old couple, well off and filled with desire,
Took a journey that most folks would only dream of.
So from Texas they traveled to Jerusalem,
Not to tear up the town with terror and mayhem,
But to visit the place where Jesus lived in love.
This is something to which many people aspire.

Every cobblestone there bleeds with much history.
It is so called the Holy Land because it’s where
Things took place that define religions of today.
Is it not a fine city where most people prey
As they do back in Texas? No one can declare
That it’s no place of interest. There’s so much to see.

But, unfortunately, to the old man’s remorse,
His dear partner of so many years passed away.
He prepared, as expected, to take her back home.
But the locals, insistent as old saint Jerome,
Tried their best to convince him to chill out and stay.
He rejected their efforts in earnest, of course.

On and on they kept trying… “Do bury her here.
One would think it an honor to come here to die.
Your dear mate has done wisely. This place has become
Economically vibrant. For just a small sum
We’ll take care of your wife. So, there’s no reason why
You should disrupt her destiny all due to fear.”

The old man remained steadfast as strongly they pled.
They could not understand his defiance. Indeed,
They were utterly baffled, so they asked him why.
He replied, “I believe if a person should die
Then the one they’re attached to is suddenly freed.
If I get her to Texas, I’m sure she’ll stay dead.”

Be Becoming!

TheMagicRealist.com

Be Becoming! The summing of all I become
Can be looked at in ways that defy status quo.
There’s no need for believing the world is a mess.
My own life force and consciousness, I must confess,
Can at times overcome me and all that I know.
I can be life its damned self or under its thumb!

 Sometimes people are speed bumps. I need to slow down
When I see others that way, although it feels right.
If I rush them, my own ride is bumpy – not theirs.
And when they reprimand me, I feel no one cares.
Surely as it will happen, I’m good for a fight
But when I get defensive, I look like a clown.

Things don’t need to be taken so personally.
That is why there is passive voice. No entity
Nor subconscious collective can single me out
To remind me that I do exist, without doubt.
I shall keep on becoming, as long as I’m me,
And providing some selfhood for others to see.

Indemnity Of Class

TheMagicRealist.com

Can my class be protected form free open air
In aspect desolation? No students appear
To take in a good lesson. There’s no one in sight.
Are we well educated yet ready to fight
For what seems to be obviously so austere
That there can be no learning? Who needs to take care?

I was raised in a middle class black family.
Has this any significance? Or is it just
Digitized information fed to the class bank?
If the answer is frightful, then who do I thank?
There’s an aspect to power. It is judgement lust.
The great teacher, when I’m ready, I’ll clearly see.

We can’t all see the same way. That wouldn’t be fair.
Humankind’s evolution is steeped in process
With the creative spirit we make and we break
Any rules that we need to for survival’s sake.
Distribution of judgement is meant to oppress.
Those who have only class only have that to share.

Powerless

TheMagicRealist.com

Some cheap-suited-assed bank pawn behind a small desk
Who is one third my age has the nerve to treat me
Like the club I belong to is not worth the time.
Thanks for giving me something to process. Since I’m
To be rendered nonthreatening, then I can be
Free to curse you in ways that are truely grotesque.

One would think that your mamma knows well how you work
Like an indentured maggot. That makes her a fly
With no sense of a conscience for what it has laid.
The dried snot up your nose gives away the charade.
You are more worthless than this verse, yet I will try
To get through to the meaning and not to the jerk.

So, I’m made to feel powerless. Ain’t life a bitch!
I cannot slap the piss from your arrogant face.
Nor can I disrespect you in any damned way.
Pray that our paths don’t co-mingle on your off day.
The McJob you think highly of is a disgrace.
Your engaging their power will not make you rich.

I’m Rich, Therefore I Am

TheMagicRealist.com

I embrace my entitlement. It’s my birthright.
And in line with my heritage I do exist
To take charge and to conquer all that I behold.
Anyone with a dark past can be bought or sold.
I feel nothing of conscience, in fact I insist
That we all take up arms and engage in the fight.

And with wealth comes great wisdom and platform to rule.
Even with no experience I may fair well
In a post yeti showdown in stark sabotage
To the plans of all others. Wealth is a mirage
That depicts something meaningful in the hard sell.
Yet a rich yeti encore would make you the fool.

I shall know that my being, deficient of soul,
Does my best to emboss me and make all seem real.
Since I could have most anything, why don’t I chill?
Maybe I’m just a rich prick who dicks for the thrill.
There’s no doubt that my money can draw much appeal
And endorsement. This all is the heart of my goal.

Bowel Tetris

TheMagicRealist.com

There are clouds in the torso. They rain down upon
The digestive machinery in many shapes.
Can I rotate them properly as they free fall?
Or will they overcome me and form a big wall
Punctuated with space gaps where nothing escapes?
There’s an inherent vacuum to which mass is drawn.

Sometimes I think I would like to be a reptile.
There’s no game such as Tetris their systems will play.
They will swallow things whole then digest them for weeks.
I though must take precaution. My sorry flesh speaks
As the odd wall compresses in its stubborn way.
Should I practice well my arrow keys for a while?

I’ll get used to Bowel Tetris. It comes with wisdom
Of the world’s many appetites. Grossly I find
That all that I ingest includes not only food.
It is mixed with the makeup of my attitude.
I could wish that my system were better designed
If indeed I could see it to not feeling glum.

Jealousy

TheMagicRealist.com

If my friend does not do well, then should I feel bad?
I could feel just the same if she’s doing just fine.
So however she’s doing, I am at a loss
Should events quite outside me present the coin’s toss
That determines how I feel? And do I define
All that goes on around me as happy or sad?

I’m the sole CEO of a small company.
Am I wise and efficient with management skills
Regarding my own feelings and ways I behave?
Or do others ensnare me and make me their slave?
Is it that human nature is based upon thrills
A good reason to indulge incompetently?

One point two three percent of a gene-scape we are
From the humble chimpanzee. I take a step back
When I act out or withhold in bitter contempt.
And because I am human I am not exempt
From moments of mismanagement and self-attack.
A small rip in the genes will not leave a big scar.

Sustainable Future

TheMagicRealist.com

Our ecology is not a subject in school.
It’s our means of existence. Connection we’ve lost
With what is most important – that which sustains life.
If we’d just pay attention we’d mitigate strife.
If our minds may be opened to truth at all cost
We may offer the future something that is cool.

We see most things as opposites. Ecology
And Economy are the two parts of the same
Basic function of living. Business can be kind
And compliant with nature. This shift in the mind
Would do much on our part to ward of an end game
That includes our extinction most definitely.

Degradation of soil is a most urgent threat.
We cannot artificially fertilize land
With toxic anti-substances forever more.
At some point, nature hits back and evens the score.
Soil enriches through decay, as nature had planned.
Perhaps we will outsmart her but we haven’t yet.

We see spirit and nature as separate things.
They are not. They’re combined as the eb in the flow.
Leaders must become conscious outside of self needs.
Righteousness in the heart of the leader who leads
With a sense of inclusiveness and will to grow
Is what is surely needed. Therein goodness rings.

It’s not up to our leaders alone to take part
In the business of living. We each play a role
In the work of our government. Democracy
Means wholehearted involvement in how things should be.
Through cooperation we can reach any goal.
Within every new moment there is a fresh start.

Take Care Of Yourself

TheMagicRealist.com

Whose red, white and blue uncle is drunk and obscene?
And am I without parents? Who has custody
Of the way I am feeling all throughout my day?
It is I alone who causes myself dismay.
When I choose to see clearly, much better I’ll be
At behaving and maintaining mental hygiene.

Who tells me what to wear and what foods I should eat?
No one else on earth does that. It is only me.
I would be but a mere slave if this were not so.
All that takes place within me is all that I know
So my own thoughts and feelings should be just as free
From control by whoever I happen to meet.

I’ll admit I know nothing, nor does anyone,
Of the things most external. They are of debate.
They cannot up and make me something that I’m not.
I don’t feel I’m involved in a sinister plot.
What is real for me simply is what I create
As I take care of myself ‘til my time is done.