there’s something wrong…

there's somthing wrong...

when we don’t fit in
we’re seen as having problems
convinced to believe
that there’s a cure for different
so we pursue an array
of promissory treatments 
all pavlovian
designed to make us conform
to society’s
cast of what our life should be
so sameness is rewarded
but being different’s punished
love will be withheld
confirming there’s something wrong
thus posing questions
of one’s sanity and worth
but there’s really no known cure
for being a unique soul
in difficult times
unique souls are our leaders
but when fear subsides
different becomes what’s feared
so the only thing that’s wrong
is what’s called conformity

 

 

free wine from false prophets…

Chalice1

flagrant lies and crimes
are summarily dismissed
by hate’s disciples
charlatans face no judgment
shielded by a nation’s myths
the key’s self interest
feed disciples their fears and
they willingly drink
whatever poisonous brew’s
placed in their chalice of self

waiting room…

waiting room

do you know it
that
feeling of entering
a room
knowing there’s
something there
a heavy
invisible mist
something
primeval
that
you begin
to
fade into
your body
and
mind
seem
to become
transparent
your
train of thought
becomes
erratic
as you
try to define
what’s all around
that
you’re unable to see
as you scan
the room
and
focus on
the eyes of others
eyes
pale with anticipation
it seems
like
no one else
notices
that it’s present
the more
you fade
the clearer
it
becomes
it’s
death

some housekeeping…

some housekeeeping

ever wonder
why
happiness
eludes you
maybe there’s
too much
of
yesterday’s old garbage
strewn around your todays
bits of 
anger and fear
decaying
in the corners
of your mind
my advice
would be
to
take out the trash