Pill Boxed

In a land of individualism
and opportunity

it feels very lonely
when you are prescribed
a type
a gender
a position
a salary, and
if you're lucky,
it pays for a health care system-
broken.
Pays for an elite-
bankrupt running the rules whose interests are not in your favor.

This land where monetary value is the measure of self-value
and the rest can go eat cake.
Except, there is no more cake.
Go ask Alice, she'll tell you
there's only a magic pill instead.

Therapists pushing papers
printed each day in favor of
the newest progression of evolution: synthesis of person-corporations!

Their agenda, their life line: keep them buying. Keep them happy
but not satisfied.

Offer temporary relief from the injection of media necessities.

We offer temporary self- esteem
with the newest cologne.

We offer you conditional friends,
who compete with you for your life line,
for the next photo shoot.
And if they have some lingering remorse, they are soothed by the system smiling: That is the nature of the game. 
Because we know how to keep you on life support long enough.

Take the magic pills,
they will make you feel better.

Float out of bed,
float over in line,
fade to gray- washed out in the silicone sunshine
of your wannabe apathetic instagram photo shoots.

Inside you're screaming
somewhere, like at birth
for a love that you may have felt from a mothers embrace.
Because the monsters you saw under the bed have morphed into
this America of celebrity politics
and educational debt
this is a society of prescription headed- drones,
of apathy, of immediacy,
this is a community of isolation.

Take the pill. It will make you better.

Fuzzy hard to think
hard to feel
angry with this reality
hard to feel like
there is anything you can do about it
accept sit quietly and
smile pretty for the camera.

Smile big and pretty, alone in your empty house
full of ebay.
Sip on the bottle of temporary life for a night
until tomorrows hang over.

Just take the pill. Everything is fine.

Be

There is nothing normal about this.

Where you had expected to land is
not here
and
the journey you had projected
with its line carefully constructed, measured and drawn to precision
on the map moving straight, in the direction towards your goal
has encountered
the unknown.

There are no lines here. No measurements. No maps to point you
in any cardinal direction.
Bird with out feather,
turtle without ocean,
you are here in this uncharted place
and there is no turning back,
whatever direction back means...

The only direction one can distinguish
is in the sensation of purpose.
A force driving you, though often
you want to think that
you drive it.

And whoever ends up having to pay the cab fare is irrelevant,
because once you have achieved that unforeseeable destination,
there are no more man-made ideas
like debt
progress or achievement.

Those only bind you to unimportance,
which does not define anyone
unless they believe it and its handcuffs.


No, there is nothing normal about us.

This map you are forging
with the freckles on your skin
and the lines in your palms
grasping for the tiny siren who
pulled you out of a blissful dream only to drag you into your morning oatmeal
before the sun has kissed the day good-morning,

the that holds in your breath long enough for one wish to be blown
out like dancing water crystal-frosts biting anything exposed

this body you are feeling,
this person you are being


is how you define it.


Blank canvas of energy and potential to
become stars
from stardust

you are the keeper of your own fate.
So, whatever deck of cards she hands you,
play them well.

Because next time,
you might not be so lucky.

Black Holes

There once was a  body of Stars,

who would dance every day with her sister Moons
into the night where she slept
gently caressing the shoulder and cheeks
of her brother Planets
all in eternity playing and
chasing.

Brother warned her about the black holes, because

black holes suck.

They are the definition of what it is to suck, he explained.

When Object passes by, they are slowly intrigued by the mysteriousness of the black hole. So,

they get a little closer. Just to see what this black hole thing is all about.
But, knowing black holes and their devious manners, Brother heads warning that the black hole, waits for this moment of intrigue, because when they are sighted as something curious or mysterious,
it is the moment when they have found their prey.

And good luck to them,
because as soon as any prey tries to get near the essence of a black hole, they are locked on.

And suddenly, the black holes are

unholdable
undefinable
abstract
hard to see
and hard to makes sense of.

They can take just about anything and warp it
distort it.

Is is then, just when the prey thinks, ok I've had enough
I'm done,
I am ready to move on...

It's locked into the sucking so completely that
it is consumed
completely.
It becomes warped, demented.
It doesn't know which dimension it started in,
where it is
or how it will look at the end of this
so called "experience."

So, whenever you see a black hole, please take head when it is said that they
really suck. Because black holes
truly are the definition of sucking.

Carry Me

I need somebody to carry me on
because I can't seem to get things through
and I've been struggling to fight
with the inches I've made
for what I believe is true.

The beginning of the path is too far away
to start and turn anew
And where I am now
there's no lights to guide, so
I need somebody to carry me too.

I've been dragging my bones
rattling getting louder
each step I take I might feel a little prouder
but my body's aching for a home to call back to
I need somebody to carry me through

My head it feels heavy with rocks of thoughts
My heart feel battled and weathered
My soul has roughened, thick hand of leather

I need somebody to carry
                                           just for a minute
I need somebody to lean

I need somebody to take me through.