like i never belonged
really, never? ever?
well, sometimes, maybe
whatta they call it...
pangs of angst
bangs of pathetic rhymes
adrift on dry land
seeking mirages and
some kinda...
ok, i'll settle for
an explanation
the collective you
define you, well enough,
convinced me...
can't seem to make
any headway convincing
myself
maybe...
it's just a stage
displaced...
displaced population
what refugees, exiles,
people, families, young
or old, driven from their homes
to wherever just not
where they were
for years or ages
you know, displaced
so clean, so pure,
so displaced like
almost misplaced like
car keys, sunglasses, like
it was a wee error,
almost innocent,
you know, misplaced
the poor displaced
juneteenth 2024
nngi and rafah and...
the coming armies
ever closer and closer
security and peace eroding faster
with each approaching artillic boom
disintegrating faster
than we can pack some
few precious memories
we go...
toward some border
between this life
and tomorrow
the unknown whatever
this random shock
further droughting
my arid soul
June 18, 2024
Some fictitious Elba
a new pen unsheathed
flowing across seas, deserts,
amber waves of tundra,
rain forests, and obsidian slopes
of mountainous memories
crafting this bit of sentiment
reading not nearly enough,
the same for righting thing
though doing more arthymetic lounging
perhaps just another word for anemic longing
the gloom of self-reflection
and an almost positive attitude
walking on the sunny-side
of the globally warmed street
carelessly paved across droughted lands
come on....
it's not that bad
it's just a bad poem
tired of streaming
consciousness and the un of it
need a more pastoral dream
even more, a reverie,
ponds, flowers, and yeatsian linnets
taking me back to some
different, better, idyllic place
to live in a simpler time
to actualize the hippie vision
just doing, just living, just being
our natural selves
Just dreaming, now day dreaming
Not any kind of monkee believer
Wondering as always, amazed, maybe awed
Wondering how and why, still, things work
How I, all of us, got to this very point.
This was supposed to be, I dunno
What? Yeah. Edgier. Grittier.
And for sure… better.
What’s an umpublished
(yeah… spelt wrong on porpoise
to provide, what?, a pseudo brain thingy)
Has the world accelerated?
Maybe even, exponentially?
Moving faster than y’all, we all,
Can even think about… keeping up.
Billions of us and too many
Lonely, missing out, or just fearing
Did Homer have to deal with this shit?
Has anything changed along the way…
We dream and love and wonder and…
You know that word we use more than
Homer ever did: cope.
This seemed like a good idea
You know, espressing myself
Undepressing myself and saving,
You know, the world, all of us
Yeah, even you…
(this suddenly new messiah complex
surprizes the hell out of me)
Stream of whatever…
This is lame. If you
read it this far.
I apologize and would offer that
Minute back, if I could...
Maybe just a store credit.
