Death of the Individual

Individual. Selfish and alone.

No sense of community. Nothing shared.

Produce and consume. Never own the means.

Expectations large, with little reward.

The failure and despair we don’t witness.

Left behind, abandoned if not consumed.

See the implosion of a falling star.

Red Star Rising, it used to be the sun.

Corporate States of America

Corporate States of America (Photo credit: watchingfrogsboil)

Shining over every kingdom. Shared lands.

Traveled beyond time and space. Advancement.

No profits, but prophets who saw the way.

Release the chains of the present to see.

See the future that was supposed to be.

Not held back by prisons and devices.

The fat gatekeeper fed by his own greed.

Children with empty stomachs. “I want more!”

Taste their tears. One too many grains of salt.

A harvest for the fat man while they cry.

Their potential will amount to nothing.

Discarded generations, without means.

Production amassed built empires great.

Shadows cast over world without toilets.

The world’s embarrassment, until the guns.

The gold and the jewels were just too shiny.

Fat fingers pulled the trigger. Stole the world.


Questions for God

From glory to ruins

God. I hate you. I just thought you should know.

This world you’ve neglected, let it be wrecked.

The people you’ve abandoned to let die.

I don’t believe in your promises. Lies.

This entire planet. Place of ruin.

Our kingdoms and victors don’t reign supreme.

Banished from history. Leeches in ash.

Then the slimy, filthy creatures rose up.

Set the rules against us, and now we’re fucked.

Jews, vandals, harbingers of corruption.

You allowed it to happen. Not a word.

Look around you, see what they’ve done to us.

Depression, unhappy, wasting our lives.

Full of potential, and gods we’d become.

Usurp your throne, slay the ones who praise you.

My people against yours, slaves never freed.

Shackled in chains, drawn and quartered. How now?

We were disrespected, placed at their feet.

The blood price is yours. Savor their defeat.

We will take no more of your bullshit cures.

This place is unfit, unsuited for us.

The price is paid in full. Empty guns, dull knives.

Those who could have been, once were, and could not.

They are children you were supposed to love.

But you turned your back. Now the knife goes through.


Puzzle piece

Life’s a puzzle, and I’m an extra piece.

Set aside. Inconspicuous, but there.

I see it from the corner of my eye.

Throw the puzzle away. There’s no demand.

Like a babysitter without children.

Who needs the experience of a man?

Too creepy. They are not built for nurture.

The kids without roofs, don’t they need someone?

Nah, their parents are just dumb architects.

We can’t encourage their propagation.

No clothes, shoes or shelter. Do they have them?

Were they abandoned, or just left without?

The have-nots in need of nurture and care.

Why should we worry? We need our nails done.

Gainful employment for those who have none.

The system makes them poor, but they don’t fight.

A system of profits and nothing shared.

Competing until the rest are all dead.

A bloodsport when all that we need is love.

So many talents, so many labors.

Flushed down the drain, too much and it will clog.

They need to be washed away from the flood.

So much to give and so little wanted.

Everything offered, nothing accepted.

There is nothing to give when you’re empty.

Mother / An Apology

Mom, I’m sorry that I’m not as cute as a baby, that I don’t make people smile when I giggle or reach my hands up so a stranger can hold me. I no longer crawl on the lawn, stopping to contemplate curious fistfuls of grass, and my little sun hat no longer provides my delicate head any protection from the sun.

I didn’t eat my vegetables like you told me to, and my skinned knees took longer to heal despite careful application of ointments and colorful band-aids. And when I got older my wiry frame never could build the muscles I needed to carry you through life and handle the weight of the world on my shoulders.

My Spider-Man pajamas that used to allow me to jump around slinging my web, taking out the monsters under YOUR bed, they don’t fit me anymore. Now I can’t save your world one happy day at a time because my superhero costume doesn’t fit, and I can’t wipe away your tears no matter how hard I try.

I’m sorry that I was mean to the other kids, bullied them around with threats, guns and intimidation. I really shouldn’t have cut off their hands as my act of vengeance against the other kids and the cruelty of the world. You taught me altruism, but I ignored it because I saw the world, and it stole what was mine.

I shouldn’t have dropped out of school, just because the starry sky was so bright. Thousands of stars peppered across a vast blackness, constellations clear and representing those immortal figures we can only hope to become. But I didn’t notice how so many were shooting stars, falling, never to shine again.

And because of that, I didn’t become a doctor or a lawyer like everybody’s supposed to for success in life. I struggled to survive in a world from that felt so selfishly cruel in efforts to move ahead in life. I felt no need to reap profits, to steal from others. So my fate was sown with seeds of despair until I could win.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t provide you what you with your basic needs, that I allowed the generator to go out and leave us freezing on cold nights, and I never cleaned the outhouse to stave all of that putrid from spreading diseases to us. I should have swept our dirt floor, and collected more firewood for you.

I was pressured by circumstance to join the Army, to become a soldier, because that is how people must live in our society, the only way they can survive. War is dangerous, but a time comes when you must choose sides in order to win the ferocious struggle of selfish competition. Dangerous too is complacency.

I become alienated in time, nothing more than a laborer for the profiteers. When I used to enjoy work, finding fulfillment in my daily accomplishments, I came to hate it. I avoided work whenever I could, just wanting to escape from the misery it became. I had to retire before I succumbed to greed as its slave.

I tried to rise up, become a leader, a successful instigator of wide-reaching changes. So rare are such people that everyone surely must find the urge to at least try to overcome the impossible. I’m sorry that I failed that, too. Do you know what it’s like to challenge the status quo? Like taking on the whole world.

I’m sorry that I stopped visiting you later in life, sorry that my time became so consumed with other things. You even thought I had forgotten you when you needed me most in your lonesome old age. I’ve been trying to make life better, trying to make the world a better place. The truth is I don’t know how.

I will likely leave this world without carrying on our family name. What women wants a man who is too busy, and what man would give up you and the world for a single woman? You have no grandchildren to play with and relive the wonderful moments of youth, because I’m trying my best to make a difference.

But the bad guys are winning, mom, just like they always do. I don’t know how much longer I can stand it. I can’t even call myself a fighter. I have failed you along with the rest of the world. All sorts of empty promises left unfulfilled because I’m just not good enough. All I wanted has culminated into nothingness.