Does it matter,
that you look in the mirror
for your happiness,
and never seeing there?
Everyday,
you put on your fake smile,
making sure it isn’t out of place?
Just to be acceptable, employed,
a good little consumer.
You wear their chains,
Just to be alive.
But awe, too late: something in
you died along ago….
When traveling
I prefer one
bag,
a comfortable
carrying weight.
I don’t bother
with extra baggage
like envy or hate.
I don’t own those.
Nothing flashy or
special, but may be full
of memories
and an extra pair
of shoes.
My friend and
lover,
how I sometimes
long for you,
To chat and sex
each other.
I think of you
often.
Even though I don’t gamble,
I’d fantasy being at
the crap table,
then some afternoon
sex.
And everytime I want to row
those dice.
I think of you.
(Zach’s Christmas present)
I guess I’m in a mourning state of mind.
I have to decide what to keep in my life, and those things that needs to be left at the curb.
For instance, yesterday I pickup a heater from curb, it bigger than my current heater.
Only, it didn’t work.
And when I’m done writing this I will return this heater to curb.
But, that’s personal growth for you, sometimes the junk you pick,(how you think, evolve, grow, etc.) is just that: junk.
I think how you grow as an individual means that little ‘deaths’, or pieces of your personality and psyche that you willingly delete.
Sounds like some dreamtime is in order….
Howdy Michael!
You’ve been gone so long,
I pretended that you never were.
We are still not free,
in these states of ‘liberty’.
We are still poor,
and murdered because of race.
Be still and peaceful brother.
I’m still alive.
And I still fight.
Laid out
on a rack,
Bound
Naked
They sexed
Me
I would not give in
So they sexed me some more.
Energies built,
Until I became the Sun….
I want this!
I want that!
That new car!
That new plane!
Watch me do this,
Watch me do that!
I’ve filled my wants,
But I feel empty inside.
And when I think,
all I see is TV.
My heart is hollow.
Achilles Heels:
I’m too easy to get in bed.
I’m a person out of place.
I was born here, but I have no
tribe here.
I lack
cultural wisdom
and I take everyone’s word
as truth.
I worry too much and
nothing gets done.
Is there anyone out there like me?
Where is my tribe?
Why am I alone?
The sky isn’t blue
in a purple haze.
Does god has a race
or color?
Not that I care,
I just want to know
if he gives go head.
If atheists believed there’re
right, why do they only
see
a white bearded guy?
Slavery now comes
in the wages or
brains on a string,
everyone has pasted
smiles
with bad glue.
Billionaires cries because
found the chests
empty
at the mountain tops.
I continue to wear rags.
There are
No such things as
dreamless nights,
there is only
a lack of awareness.
There are no such things as
a dreamless night,
but the unwillingness
of consciousness to
Be aware.
If only I could
remember the dreams
I ‘never’ had.
Life Raft In The Abyss 