the things
you do
when you
are
cut off
from society
never amount
to
anything
when your
only
correspondace
is a letter
you write
the one
you’ve addressed
sealed and sent
and
to which
no one responds
the numbers
you dial
the digits
your fingers
are pressing
the collect calls
no ones accepting
don’t forget me
unless
you choose not to
return to sender
obstructs my view
eyes with anger
big fist bleeding
I’m like this
hard to remember
easy to miss
no collateral left
to put down
no bond to post
counting the bricks
on the wall
recalling
the things that meant
the most
as the long
sunless day
envelopes
all that
was
breaking the haze
sober for days
the erie
silece that
echos
corridors
cell blocks
and halls
inprisons
the lost looks
staring into
the emptiness
of unaswered
collect calls

the rich man peddles influence
the poor man peddles black markets
a common goal,
more money in their pockets
to keep them in good health, pay their bills & taxes,
all common topics
can you blame either one?
do what it takes
to get the job done
food on the table,
smiles on the faces of their,
children…

but who ya gonna trust?
considering this,
if you must
who ya gonna trust
if it has to be one side,
which will it be
the cream that rises
to the top
with all the money
and influence you can’t stop
or do you trust
the one that struggles
to put a meager meal on the table
hungry eyes that go on starving
on their backs they keep climbing…

into the empty mouths i shove this
wealth equals a power you can’t resist
refuse to give in,
even though it looks harmless.
deny it as long as you can
prevent it.

life isn’t about gain
not hand over fist
you might argue that it is
but in the end your checks worthless

life isn’t about,
any of this
accumulating your wealth,
at the expense of the masses

into the empty mouths i shove this
wealth equals a power you can’t resist
refuse to give in,
even though it looks harmless.

Tomorrow will be yet another day
that followed another night
a continuous cycle
broken by the absence of light
these are things that repeat regardless
through sickness and good health
extend beyond all that is lost through living
and found within myself
where I lay, hidden from view
pressed between a mattress and sheets
enveloped in my warm cotton cocoon
where my dreams collide with sleep
my love at my side…
my boys snuggled in bed…
quietly recalling words an old man whispered
words forever stuck in my head
strong, but soft
and as sure as the life he lead
“I love you too, son. I’ll talk to you again real soon.”

it seems to burn them
at a lesser degree
like questions about
the evolutuion of intergrity
the baffling confusion
of what is,
morality
and the blinding reason
found behind their stupidity
the otherwise meaningless
statements made effortlessly
often times more than not,
thoughtlessly
so we cave in
be-friending gravity
baffling them with
our plesantries
smiles and winks
a shaking fist
we say
we like making friends
even out of our enemies

speak in volumes
oh ye,
defenders of our freedom
with your
meager means
that define all meaning
with substance
that fuels the soul
and parlor tricks
like fire breathing

you beat back
the class rings
and
fraternities
the snub nosed
with heavy hands
that manage
to never dirty

you fight the good
for the good
are weak and evil
you fight the evil
for they’re the good’s
bedfellows
and when you’re caught
you declare from the gallows

if our freedoms are outlawed
then only outlaws
will know these freedoms

i suffer from
what others say
was the best thing
that ever happened to them
something that
is greater than

you say
don’t be so hard on yourself
as if you have a choice
when you’re consumed
by thoughts that leave
you haunted
by a voice
and then
you realize
that something
is always
just out of reach
even when
it rests
in palm of your hand

is it
vice versa
or you versus
your vices
or are these
just words
for action
verbs
nouns
for things
like endings
whose beginnings
are just as
meaningless
as innocence
is to the guilty

good for
nothing.

just like
my words are
suggestive indigestion
mental digression
consumed by
substance
spurred depression
better yet
consumed by
consumption

they are
windows
less often mirrors
or reflections
of the apparent
realizations
like
one mans comfort
is another’s phobia
which in turn
is another’s
passion
and they
are all
good for
nothing

so for that
thanks
for everything….

we are the answers that are plenty
we are the answer to the sheep
now hardened
and calloused
we are hungry
we are wolves
and we become the sheep
through this discipline
we convince the flock
of their independence
and lead them to our den
you are the slaughtered
you are the sheep the wolves convinced
while you cower in corners waiting
your demise is spilled red
we denied this impressive distraction
for we have evolved
we are the answers that are plenty
we are the answer to the sheep

shaky hand
holds his revolver
its not worth it
not this life
not anymore
his hand swings
into position
has his gaze
fixed upon the floor
with a squeeze
he releases
the contents
of his head
grossly disfigured
on the wall
the remnants
a morbid Rorschach test
its a beautiful butterfly
wrapped in
deaths grasp
your body now
lifeless
soul detached.

you can’t take
no for an answer
if the question never
leaves your lips
when you walk
through the depths
of the valley
in the shadow of death
know that I’m there
with you with
every step