past our day's obligations
we venture into the night
exploring and deploring
all those who follow,
hoping to see our illusions
cast illusions on our enemies
and those not understanding
how one leads to another
then to another... until there
are no more leads left to lead;
we filter our night obligations
through the rules of the day
and when those don't suffice, we
create own own by which to play,
as if play were our heart's desire
and violation of same was like rape
but those who commit are not sent away,
the night remains long past curfew
with breakfast at ihop expected,
removing our wallets from wrong pockets
we are expected to pay or else...
what exactly I do not know
other than the cock of the walk
is about to crow three times.
4 December
Mindless Immigration
in the basement's attic of our thoughts
dreams exist in three part harmony
and while there is no roof over our head
there is a floor of memories lying dormant
and dormant they will continue to be until
those memories have no where else to hide,
left with the illusion of continuity and the
hope that each passing day will never last;
in the attic of my basement's realities
exist no memories at all but a consciousness
that is vividly demanding in what it feels
as sight becomes falsified documents of life
memories tossed about like beads at Mardi Gras
and I become the witness that never testifies,
living with prosecuting guilt trips of suicide,
the wanton behavior from which we will die,
leaving no one to guard the admission gates,
all my open boarders to mindless immigration.
5 December 2020
The Elimination of Truth
rays of sun burst through the front door
an unannounced but warranted police raid,
my mind revels in the ideas of revelations
in the theories of extraterrestrial communications
and time travel was the vehicle that moved
us all here in the first place because our
universe contained no where for us to go;
easily seen sunlight on the floor provides
much needed warmth in winter for our cats
who sleep through most days oblivious to
various sights and sounds surrounding,
while providing us with the energy of
our sightless feelings that guide us
miraculously through the day ahead;
the front door's window cannot prevent
the sunlight from entering the room
as it does everyday announcing the
conclusion of yesterday -- today's beginning,
the light of morning bends our thoughts
but leaves room enough for us to feel
sensations of daily rituals brought with us
from the other side of somewhere when
transported to this earth at birth after
having traveled for nine months and in
our likenesses we have eliminated truth.
5 December 2020
No One Listens
America yells out from under all her scars
reluctantly giving birth to an angry mob
whose rioting, looting, and burning are
the signs that our yesterdays never dies
and a future in which no one ever cries;
feasts of animosity are served on both sides
and are eaten voraciously by their constituents
after political rallies at which no one attended
except the militants who arrived there on buses;
America's decline is China's rise to fame
despite releasing the deadly virus on the world,
citizens of all walks and colors die without honor
and all their reasons to live are buried with them;
hope fades each day with the setting sun as
we are reminded of our mourning for JFK...
the taboos of yesterday became the relics of
tomorrow about which no one cared or bothered;
the muscles of our mind atrophied with feelings,
our pity... our sorrow was stolen by the wealthy
who wanted slaves to beg for their forgiveness
in order to receive tokens of appreciation;
America yells out but no one listens
America lost her way but no one give directions
America is no longer America but a nation
who borrows money for an underserved vacation.
5 December 2020
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