NES kid

in my pixellated form
i would save the world
from boredom

swarming hordes
on stormy seas
as captive of
a dream alluded

thoughts of torment
sought reprieve
in redoubt granted
by its heeding

a young mind’s wrest
in secret worlds
of vested heart
and truth obscured

the only thing
that i could hold
amid darkness
beyond control

how many like me
found escape
in plastic boxes
muted gray

to stay the wrath of
conscious realms
a fated passage
most profound

the untold burden
of their “concern”
cast the mould
struck bridges burning

grim projections
glowing screens
protection
from the wounds unseen

a NES kid
who had fought his wars
through cartridges
on broken floors

Relevant Rant

Will we ever see beyond the trees into the forest of illusions set before us by ourselves, or are we simply at a loss to bear this burden? Certainly, such implication complicates the inferences alluding to this state of indignation, which perpetuates the presence of my acute consternation. Do the constellations hold the key unlocking unknown doors to worlds beyond the chaos of existence? Is this counsel self-contained, a crux which cancels itself out, a crutch our conscience uses to ensconce us? Every question seems to touch the realm of truth secluded which eludes even those perspicacious erring on most prudent. Dedicated students of the mind have yet to find an explanation which defines our cosmic purpose. Exponentially, our ponderance compounds without exception, thereby instilling an exigence unduly excess. We have set the boundaries far beyond our wildest expectations to the point of courting disappointment. With our inclination to usurp our self-appointed power, surreptitiously supposing precedents unseen which seem to propagate our dreams so many silently believe. Bereaving us of freedoms rife with possibility which would inspire community instead of spurning hope for peace. Sapience and salience presumed part of our “sentience” are scarcely exercised or altogether compromised, despite the catastrophic impact of our calculated actions we continue on this fervid course of forced dissociation. Refusing to disseminate the knowledge which facilitates a self-sufficiency that would, in turn, sustain society without burning the bridges to the people in positions of imposed disparity based on factors beyond their person. The irony is so profane exceeding that which is insane in fact, it’s that which only fools would dare to claim not criminal. The truth of this reality that humankind just cannot see is every human stands to gain when selfish hands release the reins that led them to where we are now. Instead, with what we’ve stood to learn, so easily could we discern that only through consideration of each other, and each station intrinsic within our being, can we truly attain freedom. Kindness is not just a word, nor is it a notion absurd. It IS what all of us deserve. Without it, there is only hurt.

Worlds of Wonder

ceaselessly
caught between
two worlds of wonder

one of which
i revel
in a beauty
yet untold

watching it unfold
in muted ponder

another
so disheveled
that i shudder
to behold

ruthlessly
comprised
of pealing thunder

underneath
the undulation
lies a plundered soul

pandering
the plight
of its condition

haunted
by the light
ever lingering
on yonder

longing
for an answer
to it all

Era of Remorse

wishes are the whims of wastrels
waiting for the world to turn
upon the drop of faceless dimes
amid a burning empire spurned

timid tales shall move no mountains
mend thy heart by will of mind
ardent kindness fells the wicked
ailing veils of thin disguise

seize the reins of thine oppressor
tyranny reigns not by virtue
if we are to acquiesce to tenets of naught
so becomes truth

heed the words of honored adage
in this era of remorse
lest their greed abscond thy haven
wresting faith through fearful discourse

Take Heed

the well of inspiration draws from sources which are infinite
to bridge connection to each one demands forethought discriminate
we must maintain fastidious pursuit of new experience
to formulate the truth of our expressive voice in variants
each origin is cyclical in its availability
therefore we must commit to an atypical agility
lest we submit to dormancy, a fate surely abhorrent
we must all embrace the stormy seas and revel in the torrent
even everyday minutiae has a merit worth attending
it is only in this spirit does our muse become unending
this exemplifies the reason why we must remain objective
exercising our innate ability to be reflective
analyzing every aspect of the open world around us
sees us not to jeopardize our very existential impetus
for many things persist within this life which can demoralize
in manners most ubiquitous seen fit to leave us compromised
thus rendering creative function far less than fortuitous
engendering superlative compunction most gratuitous
it is upon such moments when doth art submit to artifice
and hearts succumb to numbness amid constructs born of avarice
therefore we must ensure to heed a purity of influence
and shore up our defenses courting verity with confidence
to hearken only calls which bear the mark of authenticity
embarking on our journey poised with prudent perspicacity
for muse is but a fickle and capricious force by nature
to abuse it only serves to redefine its nomenclature
hence, we must stay mindful and forgo the fruit found on the lowest branch
lest we are left to wallow in the throes of sophist circumstance
and such is not a fate abating idealization
of our suicidal woes, condemning our souls to damnation

Telling Vision

in my youth i watched TV
but sadly, none had cared to tell
that it was not reality
and thus, my life has gone to hell
corrupting every moral code
with no second thought to decorum
just as every episode
taught habits for the social forum
shouting loud and slamming doors
why should i have thought this was odd
and storming off with goods unmoored
to steal them in the name of god
flagrantly objectifying
women as the status quo
pathologically lying
to every person that you know
constantly berating fellow humans
brought so many laughs
somehow, when i tried to do it
people would then kick my ass
sneaking through my neighbor’s yard
in nothing but a ghillie suit
did not fetch the same regard
when fleeing cops in hot pursuit
still i tried to understand why
my friends cried and told their mothers
when i poked their eyes and ran
i thought that they would laugh and love it
how was i to know that vampires
were not something that existed
just imagine my surprise
that halloween i was arrested
no one told me using fire
to burn the evidence was useless
nor that sating my desires
was anything other than ruthless
pulling pranks to shame my boss
never quite had the same effect
for every time my job was lost
they branded me a derelict
the doctor didn’t find it funny
when i diagnosed his patients
and absconded with their money
just to fund my cat’s vacation
why is it that all i’d learned
would only seem to spur police
leave the general public spurned
and earn the ire of catholic priests
acting disingenuous
was all the rage on every show
but people just turned murderous
when i would use the same MO
every single trope
that had taught me the ropes
on television
have since failed me like the time
i groped her and wound up in prison
when i tried to tell the judge
“But on TV it seemed just fine!?”
he wasn’t so inclined to budge
and now i must serve all my time
the bane of capitalist systems
causes damage far and wide
kids left without supervision
so their parents can abide
to that which jesus most opposed
and though i might not be religious
much like him i don’t condone
a surrogate duly suspicious
children led by such examples
based on worlds of artifice
become far more than we can handle
with real life consequence
how can we punish the actions
fostered by our guided hand
just to furnish a distraction
so we can meet life’s demands
everyone should take a hammer
run it through their TV set
rise up in a marxist clamor
before things get darker yet
it’s not right that we associate
our sentiments with falsehood
they can’t misappropriate our lives
then try to claim “it’s all good!”

Aversion

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ere i walked the shadows
of a shameless life eschewed
i sometimes talked for hours
on the telephone
’tis true

attending to the inbox
which would hold my correspondence
until one day i stopped
having become too despondent

seven years have come and gone
and still i have not looked
nor listened to my messages
not even on facebook

this plague pervades
most every aspect
of my adult years
i since have lost the respect
of my family and peers

for they can’t see the reasons
nor the logic of my plight
its tragedy is lost
amid the inference of their sleight

presuming that it must be
that they’ve somehow drawn my ire
some say i’m maladjusted
others think i have retired

i cannot help but panic
upon hearing rings and tones
instilling in me frantic feelings
reeling in my home

truth be told i have disabled
every last alarm
and push notification
for they only cause me harm

and should you try to reach out
with an intention to touch
you’ll not invade this redoubt
that has long since been my crutch

and if you are to know me
then you first must understand
even if you are the homie
you can talk to your own hand

Love Most Valid

arid mist
of rhapsodic
waxing

long sought
to dismantle
the essence
only to reveal
its Gestalt

assigning
attenuous tenets
composed of pretense

to valence
resigned

but love validates
existence
through open commune
of fluid mind

with trust
respect and
shared silence

nascent intimacy
airs triumphant

while astute observation
inherently deferent
endures

for these are the matters
of consequence revered

Due Decorum

is it so uncouth to ask
for thee to stay thy tongue
and not disturb the black damask
enshrouding ablutions
for there exists no merit
to be found in such affronts
doth no one wish to hear it
underground nor in the sun
have we lost all decorum
at the cost of decency
to air in public forum
matters begging secrecy
instead we see the plague
of people primitively prone
to posting private pictures
posing on porcelain thrones!
pray not let us devolve
into unsavory savants
with thoughts left to revolve
around our basest needs and wants
one mustn’t attend charm school
to find value in mystique
we’ve no need to defend fools
when they’ve failed to be discreet
thus, i submit we gather
every vulgar philistine
and banish them to exile
to the isle of shrillest screams
for it is of their own accord
to wax on chamber pots
therefore we dare not spare the horde
an expeditious plot
of funerary provenance
for actions crude and crass
for devotees of elegance
i speak on your behalf