The chair that led to Christmas

Why is this chair so comfortable?

With its velvet exterior, cloud like pillow interior and structure that holds you just above consciousness?

The days chores are as long as the horizon,

Bills coming out of an account that is at zero, work lasting longer than the day, social appearances to keep from being a goblin.

As my stream of consciousness starts to sink below the babbling brook, and the ideas swimming upside down in my mind vacate where they reside. It all begins to seem less critical.

At least until my consciousness returns. The alert signals misfortune as my time has run out. The alacrity of pompous narcissism weighs heavily on me. My heart races looking at the bureaucratic indecencies before me. Will society still accept me if I find a recess that will encapsulate me?

Can you really find a way to leave society? Fresh as fig, naked to the world. Helping only you and yours? Shrinking to the size of a shroom in a forest of wonder. Foraging for a living, but somehow not the villain, that world would think you were, because you left them behind?

Somehow this doesn’t matter, even though the earth is not flatter. The land is not spared, it has been barroned and fiefdomed from the trees that had a grandfather clause. Userped from its soil, replaced with plastic and aluminum foil. Because no matter how hard we toil, we can never escape this marble.

But I would try with seeds and a pickaxe by my side. To break through the atmosphere in a ship shaped like a pear. To find a new world, that would allow me to grow. To begin to sow.

Would this actually work, or would those problems come with me? Can we keep our farms small? Can we give compassion to all? Can we resist the urge to discover the world on a barge?

As I sink into sleep, I hope it is deep,

And I hope for one and all, to care for all on this small ball. To show their care, grow their hair, and to be happy out there. Because if we share, we don’t have to put up with their buy now glare.

Space Race

Scathing reviews that are culturally skewed,

Fighting force ogres with unbound powers and torque,

Forcing the populaces pain and exposing every inch of shame,

The voices of the void hasten their resolve as they fight and solve.

Can change actually come anymore to help the burgeon world off the floor?

Can we heighten the baseline of love and caring?

How we organize and prioritize our hearts and minds?

Moving one step closer and not just through rhyme.

Rising up against the turbulent turbidity of immoral antiquity,

Fighting the fanning flames of improper atrocity.

We can prevail but with help from whales.

So go collect collections of impossible values,

Before the dollar is reduced to the value of a swallow.

As the rainforests rain is reclaimed,

And deserts dead grow to become incandescent,

As the gathering winds set sail and begin to boil the last whale,

Not a single beings benefactor will survive unless we all learn how to dive,

Into deep space starting a new race,

To survive among the stars and overcome pollutions scars.

Yin and Yang 2

The leaves on the road burnt by summers sunshine.

The icy paths now wandering flows as the water narrows.

Hearts biggest joy blooming out of sorrow.

Removing coats revealing flowers of autumn.

Our days pass in cyclical ways

Our path repeats twice in two ways.

The shimmering sun shines on icy eyes,

Stumbling minds lead to new inventions that shine.

Heartbreaks are mended with cold icy needles.

Progress in measured by lack of backwards intention.

Questions without answers are just answers without questions.

You say duplicity is fine but it doesn’t make sense in my mind.

Trees fall to make room for new ones to flourish.

Hearts mend only to contract heart disease.

You can be like the river but never become one.

You can stop thinking and still be full of thoughts.

This is the yin and yang. Perpetually holding opposites in balance.

Where if the multiverse does exist then so does it’s opposite.

Where it can be utopia and at the same time apocalypse.

But don’t let dissuade you,

Let it inform you,

So that every move considers us all,

And that we put the coat of hugs on in fall.

Dying of thirst next to a bottle of water

Dying of thirst next to a bottle of water,

The harsh inside of my throat swallows like sand paper,

It is within reach and easy to open,

But my money is the wrong color,

With my outstretched arm I writhe,

my fingers wither from strife,

All because I couldn’t deal with bullshit hype,

Of the government of iron ears,

The ones who don’t understand tears,

Because there is no currency conversion,

When you come from love and compassion,

As my heart shrivels one size,

And knowing that I may surely die,

Understanding that my heart will stop,

I will not yield to the man on top.

Broken Net

Always changing

It gets old

Spread your vibe,

Then they scold,

They hear your pain,

They wish you away,

They hear your agony,

Ce la ve

Changing again,

Have to build it again,

Can I trust the new lie?

Can I trust they won’t let me die?

When will there ever be,

Someone steady to me?

When can I be

True, for others to see?

I just want one to stay,

Who cares to sit with my pain,

As I exonerate it away,

Through words and a nod,

I just want a place to stay,

Not a home, but an ear,

Who will be there,

As I am there,

For them,

Over and over,

Till the end.

The Sun is not Cranky and Stupid

Is appealing to the lowest common denominator the only way to go?
Can I build something deep and interesting to throw?
Why be is stupidity rampant when tons of people seem way to smart to get it?
If we can’t move on from hating on the interesting and complex,
We are doomed to farting and trying to open a door perplexed.
If our asides are all snide,
And our toilet dropping are left bare,
How will you ever care about the growth of another,
about something that is not just blubber.
This is why the news is extreme,
To keep up with your memes,
If you could just focus on progress,
Not put intelligence in a egress,
Help the ones who try to improve,
Ignore all the ones with upside down canoes,
We just have to move towards something that can give us hope,
Not laugh at another dope,
We just have improve everyone’s life,
Not laugh at another’s strife,
This doesn’t mean we can’t have fun,
We just need to get our power from the sun.

Will I escape this box?

The darkness is all I see,
Around me are castle walls, ethereally.
Outside earthquakes create caverns in my mind,
Lighting pierces the trees ripping away their brine,
Fires rage licking of flames with heat ripples,
The air is thick smoke that feels like fiber glass on my throat,
All this while calloused white men sit smoking cigars with their million dollar bills, they are in phallic symbols escaping our atmosphere just for thrills.
Sustainability will be their downfall, as the earth burns no one will feed them caviar made of children,
and meat so soylently good. No one will fill their chalices with dead vine wine from a brisk can.
Then when they are alone in space will they finally feel?
Then when they are alone and can’t survive will they reel?
Meanwhile I sit in a box afraid of the world, germ laden money,
bloods soaked soil,
and charred buildings crumbling have taken their toll.
To be free there is just one emotion we all need to exude,
and that is compassion for all at hand,
and the land we stand on to.

Flying

Flight soaring over fluffy clouds
Made of the softest silk,
with feathers so round,
Winds blowing gently like,
speaking into a fan,
Heart beating rapidly,
as though it was your first kiss,
The sun shining in your eyes like,
staring at a total eclipse,
My brain culminates in joy, as if the world is all holding hands,
Unencumbered like,
the universe is just grains of sand,
This freedom of flying is now at hand,
Loving every moment,
Now I have to figure out how to land.

Hope for Overcoming

Has it really been that long?
Why isn’t there more narcissistic songs?
They are the evil unleashed on the world,
The scourge of the land with power untold,
No amount of gold will satisfy their taste,
There is nothing so pristine that they will not turn to waste.
Why do we let this virus continue?
Is there no righteousness within you?
The loss of equity, prosperity, equality,
The pain of the battered, shattered, tattered,
Cannot it scrounge up within you action?
It definitely stirs everyone’s compassion.
It is but just a few who control you,
It is but just few who keep capitalism true.
It is up to us to change,
It is up to us to rearrange,
Systems of oppression and deceit,
That push our values to their boundaries,
Are they even human? continues our quandary,
This is not about a race,
This is not about the boundary of a place.
We have to work together to save our earth from polluters,
We have to work together to not believe the lies of the colluders.
Only then can we start,
To heal a part,
Of our passion and soul,
And have our utopia unfold.

Hope for forests

Why is the wasteland the end we are aiming?

Burns, hunger and lack of housing,

Petrol engines with their poisons dousing,

Why can’t we imagine nature and love,

Caring for everyone even strangers?

But instead, we are aiming for post apocalyptic, fire branded warfare.

Where there is no rest and everyone is endanger.

Why isn’t that aim utopia,

Why isn’t our mind on euphoria?

Our intentions determine our path,

We should all wish for something that lasts.

Are we only owed this in death?

Heaven and the angelic breath.

If we don’t make it paradise on earth,

What can we hope for with the ones we birth?

So take those clouds and forest green,

Mountains and vista so serene,

Hope for compassion for everyone around,

And aim at a way to turn wasteland upside down.