| Poems: 310719 - July 31st, 2019 |
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| Robert Morpheal (morpheal@yahoo.com) |
2019/08/01 08:35 |
270719A
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That cookie cutter
soul maker machine
threatening
brand imprints
government sponsored
hostile take overs
ownership and label
defined contents
trashing out
anything anyone was
actually fond of.
Closing down
any variant endings
in mass rewrite
of a common fiction
filled up
with plot twist
choiceless choices
skip most of it
up to the last chapter
and in conclusion
miss nothing.
Power is only about
that one thing
of not getting any
that you want
while being told
what to want
being made
all the same
but hard to get
forced to struggle for
what everyone wants.
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290719A
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Fly paper sticky
bird chirps
the morning chaos
of reasons.
Throw back sense
of early shock
convulsed isolation
sort of jitterbug.
Sneer of wind
sizzled stir
ruffled feathers
plucked.
Too afraid
to spread wings
you turn tail
and run.
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290719B
-----------
A large collection
of popular disinterest
covering a wide range
of various subjects.
No one shows up
in a tired out space
between the sirens
and the silence.
World in a bottle
corked up
with that long list
of cannot say.
Not to talk about it
defines everything
that was not six o'clock
news among strangers.
Stuffed in between
fluffy and meaningless
clog of conversations
slow drain.
An impersonal note
agony of grammar
stuck pins and needles
into a choice of word.
Scrubbed out
detergent scoured
grey matter
being rinsed away.
Culture as voodoo doll
at the podium
to a zombie audience
given full agreement.
Official approval
fills any empty room
with admirers
of popular contagion.
Wipe yourself away
as something rude
that no one wanted
in their private club.
Try to open anything
and it slams shut
trapping the pain
in a social vice grip.
Squeezed out
of feeling better
and forced to numb
it all crumbles apart.
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300719A
------------
Wanting to hide away
where finding happens.
Hide from the wide open
of spotted in the sights
and slammed down.
Everything that gets done
has been condemned
as of no popular interest
and no way to appeal
the rulings of censors.
How can anyone ever get
up from under
all that pull and push down
dragged around town
to nothing doing.
Spend some drudgery
on little tastes of death
pretend at metaphysical
something to say
to amuse deaf ears.
Maybe it was another life
long and far away
from when and wherever
of learning how to get lost
the way that we do.
Was never good at it
and total fool hopes do get
crushed and snuffed
like a butt of again
bad habit.
Any innocent scheme
is all the same
wrong with it
in a go, no go
child's toy sort of way.
Simple and Stupid
cozily partnered up
in an ongoing success story
twisted and warped
in tune with the weather.
Used to get around
to finding expensive ways
to feel more lonely
but torture can be had for less
without need for company.
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300719B
-----------
Everything is about now
and those standings
that you know nothing about
in a standing around way
of not knowing anything about
who stands where they stand now
how they got to standing that way
the way the standings have it
particularly invitational standings
tabulated in statistical columns
must be some sort of official bookie
judge analyst of what stands out
knowing what is out standing
taking in bets on standings
defining popular stands
deciding what is kept standing out
without really understanding
what standing around means
standing for nothing
in some stand around crowd
of getting it on to nothing
going nowhere fast
always faster than before.
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300719C
-----------
Wonder where up is
to the down cycle
spring board leap
dive to disaster
comes down hard
into no idea
where it is headed
to concussion
getting hit up
with down
against rock bottom.
Easy to drown
going under
where it pulls out
from the shore
line of familiar
concepts
to unable
to calculate the sea
of damages
and whale of a time
being harpooned.
Beauty is better
than the standard
routine equipment
rent charges
never can be paid
in full
including mileage
and depreciation
of bones
with declared age
etched skin deep.
Marred up
and mishandled
mess a cat drags in
looking proud
for consideration
the gifted
trophy case stuff
dreamt of being
and so much more
deep down inside
trying to add up.
Only as good
as the opportunity
racks up to being
right before the kill
snack of a chance
scrambling
in the under foot
being torn apart
by attention
provident of no more
than craving neglect.
Futility resonates
desperate prayers
against hollow places
of lying in wait
spring loaded tension
forced through
unpleasant endings
reinforced snake
threads of psychology
stitch together
crazy quilt patterns.
Punch drunk
roll over reek
of corpse flesh
crowded together
into designated
ghetto dwelling
clock watch
drag it out
back into the streets
for pick up
by trash handlers.
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We have all been "trashed" by somebody, sometime, somewhere, and some have
been far more trashed and far more often trashed than others. Some to the p
oint of being able to believe nothing other than believing that they are in
fact trash. As if there is a label on them somewhere that is somehow appli
cable to any and all "contents" that they chance to spill. At the same time
the trash handlers greedily seek and empty out the trash. It appears that
they are completely willing to do anything that it takes to assure that wh
at is designated as trash remains designated as trash so that they can cont
inue to gather it that way.
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