Silly,Isn't it?That one can go to bed,Only to never wake up.Snap of the fingers,Between life or death,No matter how anxiously prepared,One might be.Life for my kind,Was always brutish, nasty, & short;Hobbes' perfect example.Death was frequent.Common.We just got used to death I guess.
Teeth Ajar,Jaw Hanging,Skull Bleaching White.Parading old carcasses!Playing with my corpse.Only got one,& already plan to give it all away.Organs,Bones,Wisdoms,All.When I move,A body snaps or crackles,Popping often.Just reminding you,Even after my own death,Perhaps,Of our mortality.
"Write A Religion,Then!Prove It Manipulates Us!"Poisoned Kool-Aid,Wasn't enough of a red flag for you?Unlike Hubbard,Make sure to label my Fictions,Plus My Reality.Faith is indeed a powerful tool,Plus a formidable weapon.The demand?Just give me enough time.Education.Critical Thinking…Then I Won't...
Any proper organized religion,Has no true substance.Yet a flock's harvest is rarely ever,In mere wool.Faith becomes physical,A tangible thing.Pure belief powering miracles.Same fraud as ever.Trickery or illusion,To harvest the golden wheat of worship.Such food is ambrosia.Power.Control.
Licking lips,& fingers.Hot Honey -Slathered meats upon the grill.Gnawing greasy flesh,Tingles of divinity in every bite.Chipped yellow teeth;Too sharp even now.Metaphors,Magic,They tend to intertwine regardless.How else could we procure such deities?These delicious gods;Upon which we feast?
Moonlight Soliloquy.Sharpened Heartstrings.This pit of loneliness,Aching in my rotting black heart.Mummified Ventricles.Better off alone,Witch.Human Beings usually only mistreat us.For every one hope,There’re a dozen tragedies.Sure.Survived.Alone in my dark.Broken Monologues,& all.
There's no loss,I cannot endure.All because I've been losing;For a very long time.So unused to winning,My humility is often moreso,My shock.Fate pissed in my mouth.Destiny shot me clean through;Both kneecaps & elbows.Was never supposed to win,In the first place.Redemption was a lie.
Swiping Left Like Hurricanes,Spinning one direction.Boring same archetypes of people:Yoga, Brunch, Hiking,All the “Vancouver Specials” -Whereas I'm hunting weirdoes.Colored hair artists,Queer or Neurodivergent Communities,That aren't toxic or gatekeepy.Dating Apps Suck.Want stranger folk.
Remember the constant distant roar,Of glacier-fed rivers.Swirling greens & blues,Full of Dolly Varden.Baba knows.Knows which berries to eat.How to avoid snags on a line -In our rocky-bottom rivers.How to survive out there.Familiar with the bush.Wind.Rock.Sun.Water.Meat.Thirst.Hunger.
Silhouette Of An Era.Old regimes on death beds.Oligarchs?Mean Long Pig?Tough & gamey,Always tasting the same.As most -Withered, white old gerontocracies do.Bitter,Disgusting.Unfit to feed any flock.Better off,Fertilizer.But they'd poison the land.Old regimes,Finally dying off with age.
Coy & cheeky,Humble with bouts of mischief.Smarm or Sass,Hoping to hide my history,Obfuscate my titles,Achievements -To still poke fun as I love to do.Folks like me;Clever & learn-ed,Wearing The Jester's Mask.Speaking truth to power,Self reflection to the ignorant,Having fun,Whilst I do so.
Don't make me laugh,Dead Man.Thy skull's skeletal sockets -So alike Yorick.Gold is better,As circuits,Wires.Not sitting on a shelf,As bars or jewellery:Useless paperweights.Bard,You're four centuries behind.Learned Macroeconomics,Science.Whilst you remain trapped in frozen ignorance,Forever.
Seeking Escape Velocity.To find some path forward,Away from poverty & struggle,Closer towards simple sustainability,& peaceful, joyful existences.But thus far -I've yet to encounter any outs;My life as a slow-grinding war,Has rarely deviated.No help.No love.Only misfortune,Or attacks.
No Fear,Little Witches.Woven greenwood totems at night,Are fiction.One never needs to play at war.Take Curses,Instance:Speciality of mine.They're thick, pitch black tar.Sticks, sets, & bubbles.But who says Curses can't be boons?Clearly I chained mine,Mostly.I'll Curse Us Yet With Love.
Anybody who knows me,Knows I detest Liars.They prickle my skin like stinging nettle,Remembering cold knives -Pressed against skin by circles of Babas.I speak Truth.I demand Truth.Known for demanding very little -"Impossible Dreams."If only I had KNOWN.That life they admonished.All lies.
Blather,Even when I try not to."I digress" being likely in my top ten.Weak.Fragile.Yet zip-tied together,Bound in braided rope.Buddha Body hiding old stories,Secrets.One day soon,Must improve,As monk.Engines roaring to life.Because this?Just isn't sustainable.My words now have weight.
What now?Well -It continues,That's all.I beat all of Shakespeare in five years,With just my poems.So what?One goalpost down,One to go.Crazy old monk;John Bradburne at 6k.So I'll just keep going.Infinite Creation Engine;At an idle.Throttle still producing beyond what most -Can process.
Driving a highway,Late last night.Wipers on full blast,Afraid they might catapult off into pouring darkness.Eyes on road,Right hand fumbling - touch alone into bag of chips.Slurpee.Road Block."Anything to drink?""Nope."Flashlight on cupholders:"Slurpee?"Lifting it slightly.Cheek.Chirp.
My Headbutts Cause Earthquakes.Hard Knuckle Tactics Crack Loudly.Now Pacifist;Preferring words to fists.Appreciate Buddhists,But no Buddhist.Could never be one with a universe;Whilst I'm busy gorging upon it.Consuming Zeitgeists,Or Galaxies.Buddha Belly or not.Hermit Guru;Piss Poor Monk.
Ran away from home a lot as a kid.Never got very far walking in the boonies.Now acknowledge,Everything is temporary,Even home.Haven't had one of those,For a while now -Feeling precarious.Always been our normal.Trudging through literal mud,or worseBut I'm okay with being temporary.Really.