Grave Reality
Eventually my temp friends
the tipping point will be reached
where our walls of delusion
get eternally breached
by the irrefutable
no longer deniable truth
that all things do end
and that none of us passengers
were meant to exit this mess alive
This fleeting life we share
was always meant to be
a one way suicide mission
Perhaps our legacies
may briefly survive
our kept from us expiration dates
but there’s no reprise
for the built to fail mortal bodies
we were assigned at birth
So I suggest with all humility
we as a species collectively
gather ye rosebuds while ye may
Stand Up Species
God is there for you
looking down from heaven
around the clock 24/7
This divine force
is the perfect solace source
in times of grief
but for God’s sake
a weary Lord would be thrilled
if occasionally
we could stand
on our own two feet
and self soothe
Free will atrophies
when you always choose
the easy path
of deity dependency
Mix it up once and awhile
and show the Master Creator
that though we always
appreciate his loving support
we possess the power within
to rise up and proceed
sans prayer crutches in times of need
Can of Frustration
I hold in my grasping hands
an aluminum can
of precious processed beans
A nutritious and delicious source
of fiber and protein
vacuumed sealed
to prevent outside contamination
The proper device of entry
is now required
to penetrate this stubborn
protective container
I have the tool, but not the power
for it seems the electric current is out
(Serves me right for not paying the bill)
No old school
manual opener to be found
in my kitchen junk drawer
of assorted relics
Feeling substance deprived
frustration gets the best of me
as I fastball fire
the uncooperative can
into the innocent wall
Out of sheer spite
and the forces
of acceleration repulsion
the bastard projectile beans
ricochets back
and bops me
in my slow reacting head
Now both parties
of this needless conflict
are feeling dented
bruised
and unloved
Anger always leaves a lasting mark
Point Driven
Precision in language
is the mission
Clarity of intent
improves communication content
Direct point to the point delivery
remains the concise objective
Free from the applied tyranny
of loose misinterpretation
We have the power to conquer
these needless confusions
that drive many a conflict
only if we have the courage
to choose the straight line path
from transmitter to receiver
Tripping en Masse
Down this narrow aisle
just me and my carry on
which is a misnomer really
since my baggage stuffed tight
comes with wheels attached
to keep things light
So slowly I roll
trying my very best
not to brush against
and inconvenience
my fellow solemn passengers
on this grind of a trip
that ends with our shit
all getting communally crammed
into the size inadequate
overhead bin
Repeat and rinse
For upon arrival
on the ground
we collectively know
our cumbersome luggage in tow
has to somehow be taken down
to accompany us weary travelers
to our final destination
way over the rainbow
Satan v. Humanity
My client Satan
would like his critics
who believe it or not
are still legions
that is he has had ZERO
negative influence
over the affairs of man
since he retired
from the morality corruption business
back in the late 16th Century
All the sins of the world
since then
fall exclusively at the clay feet
of God’s own very flawed creation
So consider this a legal writ
to cease and desist
with all this
“Devil made me do it” bullshit
or face losing more
than your eternal soul
as we will be filing lawsuits
to bury your slanderous
alibi spewing ass
in civil court
JiNGled and JaNgLed
Late one warm Summer’s eve
sleeping with windows open wide
I hear the soft melody
of distant wind chimes
Random notes gently cascade
beneath an audience of stars
in a unique symphony
co written with the oblivious breeze
So very symbolic
in a metaphoric way
that only would be
poet philosophers can appreciate
Fate is the wind
We are the music
At that very moment
as I ponder this cosmic relationship
with a pillow over my head
I suddenly recall
how much I DESPISE wind chimes
determined to mess with my sleep
Cyber Doom
Won’t be
the nuclear winter
we once feared
It will be cyber warfare
that does us in ultimately
Viral annihilation
of our core software
Dowsing our
flimsy firewalls
Drowning economies
tethered to tech
as all our crutch websites
get snatched away
Our modern lives
easily unraveled
by a faceless enemy
lurking in a dark basement lair
hacking us back
to the stone age
where only
the tech illiterates of today
will manage to survive
Through the Wall
Once you have blown past
the point of no return
you may as well speed up
Lose all forward resistance reservations
cause true commitment
demands personal acceleration
and lack of fearful reservation
about the fast approaching
unyielding walls
of hard consequence
ready to commence
dispensing a harsh life lesson
Deadly Insulation
I often lament
that I as an older gent
can’t love
or even lust anymore
over busty young vixens
who sashay my way
without being
labeled
a “dirty old man” perv
I call extreme
age discrimination
against my disrespected team
For here I am
in the fourth quarter of my life
and I still secretly fantasize sexually
like all hot blooded males do
Only now the girls
are young enough
to be my daughter
EEEWWWW…
A totally unacceptable
violation of calendar gap rules
But I just can’t help it
that I internally throb
like all in heat dudes do
when presented visually
with sweet feminine stimuli
but of course if I get busted
giving the old side eye
to a scantily clad fair maiden
I’m labeled
attraction inappropriate
A leering Lolita lusting creep
if I do not suppress
my desires
as stealthily as I can
Not a healthy situation
No wonder so many
of my repressed generation
drop dead
of heart attacks
trying to hold back
the raging hormonal flood
breaching the flimsy stigma dam
that is so against
our natural masculine urges
stgreenie 
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