I enjoy going back through some of my older poems and finding ones that seem to fit the present situation, perhaps better than when they were originally published. This is one such poem.
If you got outta bed
this morning
you're an optimist
plain and simple
otherwise why would you?
I mean really
you're getting ready
to do your thing
goin' to work
goin' to play
goin' to get drunk
and the sun is shining
and the birds are tweeting
( many of them have Twitter accounts)
and you just don't think about
how it can all turn to
shit
without a moment's notice
like the snap of your fingers
We live in denial
about the true nature of life
and the turning to shit factor
we just get up every day
and figure that everything
is gonna be fine
but then circumstances
beyond your control
and that's really the key
beyond your control
kick in
and you stand there
shell-shocked
reassessing everything
you poor pathetic
a-hole
What did I do wrong?
Well it was nothing
try to understand that it was
nothing
it's just your turn
in the barrel
and everybody gets his turn
cuz we're all here to learn
And that's really when
it hits you
that you gotta be brave
that you gotta find meaning
when all the evidence points to
a universe as cold
as a witch's left (or is it right?) tit
And so you wrack your brain
with the question...
What da fuk
what da fuk
what da fuk
should I do?
Don't worry Bunky...
you'll
think
of
something
Being brave enough to climb
out of bed is the first step
You're plastering those numbers
up on the screen again--
every night it's the same goddamn
thing, over and over--
be afraid...be very afraid....
You think you've seized upon
the only thing that matters
or should matter
at this moment in time
because it's about
survival. And yet man
does not live by survival alone.
Cave man, maybe.
But not modern
technologically advanced
and culturally refined man.
We've gone so far past
the instinct to merely survive.
We've built a world out of
inspired visions of what's possible
and learned that it's anything
and everything we can imagine!
And I can assure you
that on a personal
level it's about quality.
Not quantity.
It's not good enough
to merely survive anymore.
And all your white--knuckled
fear mongering--
your constant
sound the alarm
sound the alarm
like somebody's car being broken
into down in the alley
late at night...
Shut that goddamn thing off already!
We get it.
Because I can assure you
that on a personal level--
and I know I speak not
only for myself--there have
to be millions of a like mind
thinking this very same thing
right now...
that if this is the way
it's going to be
from this day forward...
if this is the world we're bequeathing
to our children
and grandchildren
then who needs it?
Who fucking needs it?
Really.
https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
Hidden gaze
melting
into steam-frosted mirror.
With a finger I sketch
the face
that I will wear today.
Tomorrow I'll begin again
with a clean slate.
The Ghost of Xmas Past
grips his impressive water cannon
and directs a great stream of piss
across time
into the 21st century
he still knows where
to find you
and his aim is true
the past is always present
in the present
your decadence a thread
running through your life
walled cities
with bearded men in robes
shimmer in the desert sun
you wake as from a dream
to find it was a dream
(or is a dream?)
all about
the world is crumbling
oh
that's just you
but your mind
your mind
sharp as ever
maybe better
and that's all you can afford
to give a shit about now
little things you forget
until it gets dangerously close
to the deadline
(forgot or subconsciously ignored?)
the little way you have
of creating drama
in a life now essentially
devoid of same
still
so many choices
your mind is racing
you've acknowledged that
your only real objective
was to be happy
though it makes you feel guilty
to say it
and the only reason you're crying
is because the world is crying
in reality you exist above it all
as ageless soul
pure essence
omnipotent
detached
as The Creator is detached
from his creation
now
there are certain games
that once seemed crucial
to that rose-colored vision of happiness
you've suspended due to
the threat of storms
and anyway
the guy only gets
the girl
in Hollywood
https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/t.co/uVr1Mpx
