Bullshit, But

Conversations curated with a

variety of individuals, leveling from

different careers, with intelligences

ranging from room temperatures,

to genius exceeding stratospheres,

has taught me one behaviour.

What was common cause? Created

bullshit which ended accentuated

with a pause, and then an emphatic but.

But…

Yeah… right.

October

October’s scary;

Hairy situations,

and cold shoulders

compose and carry

theatre acts, whose

key characters are

fakes and jakes.

Costumes not only

donned on Halloween.

But found everyday

in your community,

on your streets, in the

house you call a home.

As seen on your TV screen.

Inertia

Brothers be rockin’

other brothers while

Sisters be settin’ up

Johns clockin’ with

rocks in their socks.

Snowballs start rolling,

manifesting into boulders.

Drug Love

Drugs have no judgment for you,

They embrace you in their hugs,

One hit after another they tighten,

Around you like a straight jacket.

Letting you unleash your mental

lashings without becoming lost

or bored of the thoughts that

burden your soul.

But, that’s the allure…

Disease

You’re quick to diss.

Putting me ill at ease,

with the toxicity you

spread…

     this disease.

Motion

There’s a reason there’s motion in emotion.

Feelings get you moving in different ways,

due to the many motives making you emotive.

You’re feeling loco, motion transporting you.

Coursing ‘cross connected continents, creating

commotion ‘round you & those you love, yours.

Inspiring each other’s progress, a mutual promotion.

Ends

Does everything have

an end? How about something,

someone to replace

it with, fill its contents ‘till

it’s full and content, a friend?

Silent Secrets

Woke today to wailing winter winds,

Screaming neighbour’s hungry kids,

A snow swept still Sunday city covered in silence,

Is sometimes… many times, the best response,

For not all questions require an answer,

Rather a continuous quiet that pulls others songs,

Will spill savoured secrets, speak symphonies,

That you wouldn’t have gotten,

With a forced demand, a closed hand.

Elect Yourself

Half the states are rioting, up in arms,

Over elections, over who has their finger over the button,

Control of the launch of nuclear arms,

A badminton game of emotions produced bad men in tens,

Is this the end of the world, as we know it, a future harmed?

I recite a prayer, to calm in these trying times,

“God give me the strength to accept the things I cannot change,

The courage to change the things I can,

And the wisdom to know the difference.”

For prayer and action go together, and to get there,

I cannot fly to my destination by relying on only one or the other,

An eagle injured, severed of one wing, would only cry out and wallow.

Look up the definition of politics, politickin’,

It’s just a euphemism for bullshittin’,

Red or blue they don’t give a fuck about you,

Green’s the only colour on their agenda, buying votes,

Trailing on the influence of corporation’s tail coats,

Many turn tail after being elected into office,

Promises given, left to dry out, wrinkle up in scorching sun,

Banking on the fact that when the truth comes to light,

People will still be too lazy, too occupied to put up a fight.

As Jay Z said, in the environment where he’s from,

“Government… fuck government,

We politic ourselves.”

Social representation will only truly flourish after economic domination,

It’s hard to bring one into the fold before the other,

Like trying to put the cart before the horse, don’t bother,

Flood the corners and the streets with your businesses,

Help one another, pick each other up, and inspire the next generation.

Look to other cultures that have already accomplished this,

Nothing selfish, we’re humans and just looking after self-interest,

I cannot stand aside and see my people deluge into the gutter,

We gather resources, move as a unit, brother pulling brother,

For divided we would be easily picked off and conquered,

So we vote as a block, demand respect for that which we want,

Two can play at this game, and the dog and the shepherd,

Will not succeed in moving my flock.

Land of the free, home of the brave, this is America,

Personified by those that don’t take for granted the right,

To engage in the pursuit of happiness, that which pushes our height.

Look to the rise and fall of great empires of past times,

We are part of that one superpower now,

Yet not inoculated from the fickleness of lady fate,

Hate will only help to tear the boards from our hull,

Leaking this ship that has taken freedom so far, thus far,

Only to see it’s fall into an ocean, deep and dark,

The responsibility was ours, left open to attack by upstarts,

Our origin sprung on us, how did we not learn from the red coats?

Rome suffered a similar fate, rose with the grace of stoic values,

Fell in time to epicurean whine and waste,

People take for granted the responsibility they have for inborn liberty,

A recipe for disaster, space for stronger wills to take this place.

I leave this message here not to see you discouraged,

To hopefully show you a different perspective, keep you encouraged,

The fact that your future lies in your hands instead of those in office,

May be seen as frightening, as if life is too big an ordeal to handle,

But coming to terms with responsibility for self – it being in your hands,

Makes your existence counter intuitively empowering and freeing,

By combining your talent and hard work, you may come into being.

Gratitude Taken

Spent time in purgatory, more wasted I can’t afford,

Now focused on having my name ring, numbers sing,

This venture explored, page-to-page authored,

Seven seas seen spent seafaring,

Pillaging, pirating, planting – power,

Taken, not given, without permission.

Boring

Your apathy was rumored,

To be heartbreaking,

But you’re not bored,

You’re just boring.

Butterfly Effect

Pick up a pen to set on paper your ambitions

So that’d they look clearer when sunk into ink.

Suddenly seeming possible, not as distant as you think.

A way to reverse engineer your goals – know where to start.

You will realize how much even in schemes for cream,

The oddest actions, smallest perturbations, affect your dream.

Whether a pebble or boulder was dropped into a lake,

Ripples would still rip through the fabric of time and space,

Scissors cutting a pattern to make way for a new place,

A future, where this action is included within the lace.

The flap of a butterfly’s wings directs a hurricane’s hurtful hate.

From chaos comes order, eventually orders fall into chaos,

Phoenixes burn hot, rise from the new ashes of old fires.

Aristocracy gives way to Timocracy, who will father Oligarchy,

The mother of Democracy, eventually usurped by an upstart Tyranny.

This may seem deterministic, but reality is mathematically so.

Yet small causes can have large effects, and the steps you take today

Will work with the equation, if you have faith in seeing them paid.

Free Will

William came from womb straight to adoption home,

Bounced foster dwellings ‘till he reached a destructive one,

Families rented him for tax cuts, no incentives for altruistic intentions,

An alcoholic stepfather unleashed rage, the bitterness of broken dreams,

Told him to choose between a two-by-four, belt, or a wrench,

To mark him up, bruise him into another dimension,

Years of aggression turned this youth distrusting,

For how could he trust when the ones that were supposed to wouldn’t love him,

Did he become distant because he didn’t want to get hurt?

Or because he didn’t want to feel responsible if he hurt others?

Always reasoned that it was much easier to snub those he didn’t call ‘real friends’,

Pushed people away before they had the chance to leave him first,

I can’t blame Will for a defense mechanism, for wanting to skip history,

It’s not his fault, it is not his fault, everything he had locked away in his vault,

He had brothers that would lay down their lives to know he survived,

But not a single soul mate that would challenge his very existence, make him strive,

Met a girl one night, courtship eloped, but didn’t want to continue, make the call,

Said she was perfect, he thought this image wouldn’t survive a fall,

Love wasn’t available in his lexicon before, didn’t want to see it disappear,

Forgetting that what makes you love another involves imperfections,

Those quirky directions that tell you exactly where you need to go next,

So he decided, packed his bags with a frenzy he hadn’t felt before,

Chasing a woman he had never seen afore, knew he would never see again,

The present moment freed Will from his past,

Giving way to a future he finally believed in, that could last.

Coast clear he left me a message before jetting to the other side, the other coast;

“Sean, if the professor calls about that job just tell him sorry. I had to see about a girl.”

— Will

Sequel

Abuse represents itself

in damaged children

that have now grown.

The cycle continues

through a relay race of pain.

Trauma begets trauma...

Violent beatings for

past molestations for

mental humiliations for

slight suppressions for

violent beatings for

violent beatings for

violent beatings for

violent beatings for

violent beatings for

a lazy approach to raising,

psychopathic tendencies.

Before comes to the fore,

Habits continue past you…

Home

A home may be a house,

but a house does not

equate to a home.

Whether it’s an abode,

a soul within a body,

or a forest that sprouted

around me.

Home is what I miss,

its location is tied

to my heart.

Until it stops pumping,

‘till death do us part.

Choices Abide

Biology left us with six reflexes:

To freeze,

Attempt flight,

Under opposition submit,

Stage f.. f.. fr.. fr-ight,

Finally faint,

Or stand up and FIGHT.

All evolutionary functional defenses,

Against acute attack,

Act cute and one may stay chronic,

Stunned, a rabid rabbit pulled out of a hat,

Leading Alice down a hole, reality ironic,

Queen of Hearts, Mad Hatter, & a Cheshire cat.

When the Bells Toll

When the bells toll to warn of coming warfare,

They will have saved us yet sounded their last holy act,

Sacrificed for another ware to safeguard our welfare.

Churches will at first resist their instruments smelted into cannon fare,

But they will soon see the consequences of cold windswept fact,

When the bells toll to warn of coming warfare.

There’s a time for peace, and a time for war, when enemies plan to ensnare,

Pieces on the board come apart but Queens step up to counteract,

Sacrificed for another ware to safeguard our welfare.

For conflict is the last diplomatic act in a line of political moves to spare,

So we’re not afraid to bring out the hardware, Heckler & Koch compact,

When the bells toll to warn of coming warfare.

Young men left their homelands for the first time under fanfare,

Smiling, hoping to return by Christmas, as indicated on the contract,

Sacrificed for another ware to safeguard our welfare.

War continued, but some returned on Christmas day in caskets, bodied rare,

Others returned at end physically no worse for wear, but minds not intact,

When the bells toll to warn of coming warfare,

Sacrificed for another ware to safeguard our welfare.

Joint

Your essence is on point;

a joint I’d run with, present.

Whose presence I’d cherish,

twist round and round, perish

in my hands, between fingers,

enabling an abled-bodied dance.

I’d seen it burn, swell in smoke.

Heard it scratch, mixed with the

records of reality I had built

around me,

that you found, see?

Opened up entirely, lock and key.

Marbles

I played with marbles as a kid,

Adolesced, set aside a child’s occupation,

Grew up, gained responsibility, lost imagination,

Years have passed since then, I did my bid,

Friends, enemies, and family came and went,

Reminisced on all the years I’ve spent,

Went up to the attic, of secrets it was composed,

Opened dilapidated boxes I had once closed,

Past dreams I gave up on, tried to imprison,

Sprung up on me with the energy of Jack,

A familiar sight now unknown, prodigal son,

What would you do if your childhood came back?

My choices caught up with me,

So I’ve lost my marbles.

The Way

The Way of the Samurai is found in death,

Meditation on an inevitable end should be performed everyday,

When one’s body and mind are at peace, ‘till last breath,

One should meditate upon being ripped apart, limb from limb away.

By arrows, rifles, spears and swords, with whips to flay,

Shaken to dust by tremendous earthquakes, thrown into the mist of ferocious fire,

Carried away by surging waves, left to decay on an island as a castaway,

Asphyxiated, strung up by a geisha, climaxed under garrote lyre wire.

Bred by way of a thousand year code, to protect a single hire,

Embody frugality, loyalty, martial mastery, and honour, even if it meant suicide,

Prolonged wars led to the death of my master, so I set the same date to expire,

Seppuku was to determine if I lived out my life as man, with pride.

This is the substance of the Way of the Samurai,

Transcend death to fully live life, unravel fears hidden under guise.