absent humanity

We plunder for pockets of warmth
in a frigid winter
while ignoring the most
vulnerable
Who stamp their feet
not to feel warmth
but to be heard
And still they remain
invisible
to us who have shut our eyes
Because we get goosebumps
when walking from our cars
to the mall
No spare time to spare
change
for the world, create
change
for your neighbour.

To have Christian values
is enough
And to talk about the weather
is enough
And to rub our own hands
together
is enough
To create the warmth we need
Others may burn or freeze
But we are the good and
faithful
Like witches who smoldered at
the stake
If they are innocent they will
be rewarded
In the ether.

They have enough
Because we have enough
and because they are
invisible to us
especially in a frigid
winter.

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Why Not Wednesday

Part 2 to “The Path of Englightment”

I never whisper.
My voice is loud, a raucous disturbance, ever ignoring the “Shush!”
I am never quiet.

I never hesitate.
Words and ideas spill, tumbling out of my mind.
I eagerly share. I am most often right. I provide solutions.
I never keep silent.

I am always moving.
Desk work is not an option, only an afterthought.
I run, jump, jiggle and squirm, hum and tap my foot to music.
Or no music. There is always something, a magical force unseen, driving movement.
I am never lethargic.

I am always hopeful.
I believe that change is possible, and that we are drivers of it.
I watch Trews, true news, news you can trust, Russell Brand.
I read Jezebel, watch TED talks, push articles on ideas of radical change.
I watch shows that make me laugh, and I dream of writing them one day.
I never despair.

I am happy.
Sure, occasionally I’m down, and then up and then down but then up again.
I am happy when I watch stand up. I am happy at home and at play.
I am sometimes called cynical – this I believe, but I am always an optimist.
I read in escapism, a happy tale with a happy ending.
I am confident and assured. I lead friends to fun and adventure, endless.
I never cry.

I never will
I never will
I never will
I never will
I never will
I never will
I never will

I never will feel trapped in a system of, not an endemic cage of systematic oppression or perjury. I never will allow the purging of the weak and disadvantaged.

If I witness terror, if I am close enough to feel the heat of its breath,
the anguish of inevitably, inescapable…
I will escape. I will help others.
I never will be one with the rich, the oppressors, share that mindset,
that destitution of morality, the greed.
I never will believe that you are that way because you deserve it, but I will take into account what you have been deprived of, what desperate circumstances have brought you here. The deserving sentence being social justice, income equality, equal opportunity.

I may witness the utmost veracity in the irrefutable fact of
violence committed against those unworthy of its abuse
But I never will tolerate it.

I will wreak havoc with the system.
I will be a thorn in its side.
I will hold a candle to the dark.

Perfection is tedium. Consistency is lifeless.
I never will walk this narrow path they’ve laid
which anticipates the death of many.
Mental, Physical and Spiritual Deaths.
I will walk unafraid.

We can dismantle this path together,
knowing it currently leads to
the abyss of anguish
the hollows of hopelessness
a ditch of desperation.

I never will agonize over avarice.
I condemn these useless trivial pursuits and malicious stipends,
ripped from the mouths of babes.

That is never how you build a community
to love, to share, to support.
That is how you destroy a world.
That is useless.

I never will be useless.

My Life as a Word

If my life is an ocean deep,
I cannot control the barrage of waves,
the frigid waters, nor the undertow
dragging me to the depths

If my life is a forest fire
I cannot control the wind fanning the flames,
save the woodland creatures fleeing in terror,
nor escape the scorching heat
threatening to turn me to ash

If my life is a vast, dry desert
I cannot command the rain to fall,
the drought to end, nor cast the sun from the sky
though it burns my skin

If my life is an afflicted plague
I cannot control its spread,
it’s path of destruction, or the numbers
it kills through perilous infection

If my life is a car without brakes
I cannot stop the fuel, slow the speed,
nor save all that lies in my path
though surely the wreckage is inevitable

If my life is me
All I have is me,
and what’s perhaps in my pocket –
not much, no ring of elven gold, but maybe
some chap stick and string –

All I control are these aching bones
attached to my withering limbs
and slackening skin

but also I command my language;
I have a ferocity with words
and often unleash them without thought,
they are my last defense.

I build a life raft of syllables uttered from these lips
I create a proverbial shield against the bombardment of fire
and run away on legs made from quick-witted phrases
I dig a hole with my spade of savvy repertoire, collecting
dew on a makeshift leaf of colloquium and self-talk
to filter tears of discourse to drinking water

I wear a murmuring mask articulating both the danger
and saving grace of infectious confabulation
I jump from moving vehicles with a parachute of parlance
and cushion my fall with doublespeak softness

There is redemption in language and controlling one’s own voice
There is power in joining your speech and your mind
to conquer villains of the world and of the imagination

If my life is a word
it is resilient. 

The Path of Enlightenment

I never used to whisper.
My voice was loud, up to a raucous disturbance in need of a “Shush!”
I never used to be quiet

I never used to hesitate.
Words and ideas would spill, tumbling out of my mind.
I was eager to share. I was most often right. I provided solutions.
I never used to keep silent.

I never used to sit still.
Desk work was never an option, only an afterthought.
I would run, move, jiggle, and squirm, hum and tap my foot to music.
Or no music. There was always something, a magical force unseen that drove movement.
I never used to be lethargic.

I never used to feel hopeless.
I believed that change was possible, and that we were drivers of it.
I watched Trews, true news, news you can trust, Russell Brand.
I read Jezebel and pushed articles on radical ideas of changing poverty, improving feminism.
I watched shows that made me laugh and dreamed of writing them.
I never used to despair.

I never used to be sad.
Sure, occasionally I was down, and then up and then down and then up.
I was happy when I watched stand up. I was happy at work and then at home.
It was said I was an optimist once – that I cannot believe.
I would read in escapism, a happy tale with a happy ending.
I was confident and assured which led to fun and adventure, endless.
I never used to cry.

I never used to
I never used to
I never used to
I never used to
I never used to
I never used to
I never used to
I never used to

I never used to feel trapped in a system, an endemic cage of systematic oppression and perjury, purging the weak and disadvantaged.

While I could see the terror, I was never close enough to feel the heat of its breath
and the anguish of inevitably, inescapable.
Now I am one with the poor, the oppressed, share that mindset, that destitution of the lonely, the hungry.
The axiom of detriment being you are not that way because you are deprived, but you are deprived because you are that way, born that way. The deserving sentence of punishment for a pre-crime caught by the pre-cog submitted in report, with no minority.

Witness the utmost veracity in the irrefutable fact of violence committed against those unworthy of their abuse.

I never used to wreak havoc with the system.
I never used to be a thorn in the side.
I never used to hold a candle to the dark.

Perfection is tedium. Consistency is lifeless. The path we are on anticipates the death of many. Mental, Physical and Spiritual Deaths.

And we are all constructing the path together, knowing it leads to the abyss of anguish, agonizing over how we place each brick but rushing the job so we can make the most profit before we perish, buried with avarice, a shovel, and some dirt. Back from what we came. Making each of these trivial pursuits and malicious stipends, ripped from the mouths of babes, useless.

I never used to be useless.

I wouldn’t call myself advantaged.

I am entitled to my belongings, my house, my car. I have worked hard for what I have. If you do not have these things, I guess you have not worked as hard as me.

I was born in the right place at the right time. Everyone was. It is the way it is, because it has always been this way. It’s what we know, and therefore it is right.

I want and so I have. I was taught, and so it is. I deserve good things in life. I feel the world owes me something. I mean, come on, I am here. I have a mouth, and it needs to taste sweet food. I have ears, and they deserve music.  I have a back, and it should lie on something soft at night. I have eyes, they should see pretty things.

Of this I am deserving. It is my right.

I am a person. I deserve respect. If you don’t have respect, it must because you have done something dirty, repulsive, bad. The world is fair and just. You will be punished solely on your actions so choose wisely – as I have.

The sun shines down on me and the rain waters the earth. I experience no famine. I have never felt the thirsty draught. It is because I am righteous and I pray. I will always have bounty enough for me and my family.

Of this I am deserving. It is my right.

Oh you ignorant fools who complain that the world is unjust. There are people sleeping outside while others are squandering riches. You are stupid.

Everything is as it should be. The prosperous have offered jobs with pay, built houses and are willing to sell them, trade for exotic food so that you may taste the world. Stop being lazy and ungrateful and simply take what is being offered to you.

If you are poor, work harder. If you are hungry, eat. If you are unattractive, do something about it. You control your life. There are no external factors at work. Look at me. I have these things. I must deserve them.

My life is free of war, terror. I am a good person, because I do no wrong to others. I have not been bullied and things have not been hard.

Of this I am deserving. It is my right.

words like daggers

You can put me on a pedestal,
brush my hair back from my face.

You can count the dewdrops on the flowers
instead of all my disgrace

You can bathe me in the moonlight,
so my flaws can’t ever show

You can sing sweet soothing lullabies,
and still I’ll hate you so.

You can tear me down and bully me,
a slap across my face

You can point out each and every flaw,
call attention to this disgrace

You can take a mark away here or there,
you can’t reward the good I know

You’ll punish me for things I’ve done not
to make me hate you so.

Yet, I’m not the devil nor an angel
I’m not a sinner nor am I pure

I hate and then I love again,
Tis passion’s curse not cure

Although I touch at each extreme,
don’t insult me to my face

I’m neither good nor bad nor anything,
that you could ever place.