Archive | May 2021

Africanized Forked Tongued Maricopa

A Radic alized Species

A day’s lesson in zoology is the news
Made aggressively in the streets of Lalaland.
Easily they’re excited by smells of bullshit.
Give them feces to feed on… My God! They won’t quit!
No one now recognizes that this is all planned
And pumped straight from the anus of whom all accuse.

The remote master chessman knows well in advance
How his pieces will play out his will, then begone.
So intrenched are his tentacles in our affairs
They feel righteously nice to some. Indeed who cares.
We can’t know how we’re fucked with. We’re not more withdrawn
But more prone to be entertained by circumstance.

These people are bananas! They’re stark fucking mad!
I thought I’d been the nutcase forever ‘til now.
Having been one, I know one, but don’t know them all…
And with these breeding maggots, there’d be no close call.
On I’ll go in damned comfort if I can allow
These assholes to amuse me. That can’t make me sad.

Checking for Asian DNANot for Bamboo –
Is the path of the brain ninja, but I digress…
Why not check for fried rice with traces of soy sauce
Through the most telltale patterns of slant Lissajous
Micro-minded for merit? You folk are a mess!
Next time your ilk go trippin’, I’ll know what to do.

The Zoo That Needs Keeping

Dark Child's Defeat

Doctor’s Ooze of the dark mind germane to the rule
Of the arid republic need be maintained still.
Hideously the hatred – the drumbeat of heart –
Beats nonsense as if nature. Full-on can it smart
Body Politic already bloodstained by will?
It is known and how well it performs as a fuel.

Continue to continue contingent to clue
Contrary by the nature that hangs everyone
Noose-necked-naked-assed nasty nowhere near the goal.
If each cell has a function, each plays its own role.
Rigorously reviled for past deeds freely done,
Insufficient momentum is not a breakthrough.

The Political Body split down the middle
More than ever, the nonsense knows of its near end,
Never ending the downturn each cycle reveals.
Fortunate is the body who better it feels
After deep self-assessment. Each does comprehend
How one makes one’s own drama a perfect riddle.

Going on like this has its own rigor with ways
To cause all who are human to stop and reflect
On what kind of a test we are willing to take.
Do we fail in the end or become more awake
To surviving while maintaining civil respect?
Who alone can have answers to end the malaise?

What To Do While In Spirit…

Eternitity of Beingness

Not near death nor near living, for what do I wait?
…No sense of being conscious of self nor no one
Since the mere act of being is made of its own
Only substance of time flow ever to be known
As the thought come before next becomes the end run
Of this life come to be passed much due to dead weight?

This thought form of a body exists very real.
As an everyday model old, fine does it run.
Remembers it insanely well how to behave,
Or how to send its master to its early grave.
Incomplete thought entrapment can never be done.
Absolute nonexistence has no thought appeal.

From the viewpoint exalted far out and away
All of life is presented. Complain does the thought
Not of style nor of format nor technique surreal,
But for just being yanked from the world with such zeal.
Interruption? To think that, who then can’t be caught
In the fool’s web of arrogance for The Long Day?

Practicing hospice routine partakes pleasure’s peace.
Transition through reviewing as all it takes place
Has never been attended by one with a name
That has stuck damned fast to it butt gut wrenching shame.
My allowance here shows me the self I must face
For another while longer undoing my fleece.

Let Go And Relax

It'll all be over soon.

Off a cliff I am falling. What else can I do?
My death is clearly eminent. Fear have I none
For the probable outcome, so I’ll just relax.
If I hold on to something it will only tax
More than ever an emergent situation.
It will not change what happens, for all that I knew.

There are many debris that are falling along.
In the past, I had clutched them. Brief is our time here.
Things and I are important, but to let them go
Finds relief in life’s pressures and consummate woe.
Alibis are abundant to mitigate fear
That the things in my life are not where they belong.

I have responsibilities. People depend
Upon me for their purpose, and I upon theirs.
Things put in proper perspective cannot be wrong.
Insecure about living, how can I be strong?
By surviving compulsively, all my affairs
Are of careful avoidance of what must transcend.

Off the edge we are all thrown. Nativity gives
Each of us a good push into gravity space.
It’s above and below us, and there’s little time
For my messing with words trying to make them rhyme,
But it’s kind of a fetish. All that I embrace
On the way to the ending is not that which lives.