Trash the Earth Day (Poem)

It’s the day after Xmas Time to throw out your crap All your boxes and wrappings and dining room scraps Oh what a holiday X marks the spot with a question mark… You cut down that tree Dragged it in your house Odorned it with glee Watched it die on out Now it’s time to face facts Cuz it’s the end of days There is no better definition of idolatry Look it up It’s in the Books But you should know cuz you’re nothing but a gang of crooks You stole from God Now it’s time to pay Every imposter will get eXacted by The WAY

The things you never did… (Poem)

The alluring ones Life is but an impenetrable bubble that you dare never pop So aesthetically appealing to trauma ridden eyes Eyes that see the wiles of the ruse that never stops But your eyes see only you On the cover of magazines Bloody carpets In the spotlight On the signs of city streets Your bubble may never pop As you live your fullest life Flashy cars and gaudy mansions Front row seats at your own rite But after all you’ve done is done And you retire to your grave Your only true remembrance is the things you never did

PAIN (Poem)

Pain that is never felt Can never warn that something’s wrong Can never thwart you from the fire Can never push you to be strong Happiness is deceiving When it’s all you’ve ever known When the world that exists beyond your realm is just another debt to toll

That’s Capitalism (Poem)

How is it that ‘people’ achieve so much yet accomplish absolutely nothing? Life is but a dream and the dreamers are in a coma. Bed ridden on life support, disheveled to the bone. Haphazardly living on time that is borrowed from trustees who can end it all at any given moment. Reluctant to ‘come to’ in fear that reality will never be as fulfilling as the illusion that expends even the faintest tenor.

Destitution (Poem)

Eyes on the prize
A raptor glides through the whispering breeze

Claws stretched out
Wings painting a picturesque moment in the clouds

Be Fruitful (Poem)

The Earth is not ours to destroy
We are but servants and we must employ
Our presence before God must not be in vain
For all that is fruitful will always remain

Lamenting Earth (Journal Entry)

“The wind has blown a warm yellow moon up over the sea…” A big bulbous moon like the bulbous head of a bulbous man pompously taking inventory of the shortcomings of humanity. Patrolling the night, a lighthouse in the sky. A dear companion, always on time, helpful, reliable, admired by all. “What does he have that I don’t?” The Earth Mother laments in quenchless sorrow.