daily routines…

moving to beats
embedded
by society
the world’s people
arise
and
begin
the prescribed
rituals
coffee
tea
polluted water
walking
dogs
feeding
cats
rousing children
from
pretend sleep
a state
of
sleep
designed
to postpone
the participation
in
the rituals
how
quickly children
learn
to dislike
the
rituals
an innate
awareness
of
where
conformity leads
they’d rather dance
to their own beat
but
that’s
not possible
ford assembly line education
assures
their ultimate
participation
in
the rituals
no off cadence
beats
or
steps
are allowed
you must
think of your
credit rating
don’t you ever want
to
a home
rebels
all those lovely
uniformly unique tattoos
which
unknowingly
declares
participation
in the
rituals
tribal markings
like
man’s
early years
on
this planet
tribal markings
and
cave paintings
along
the roadways
where one
can hear
tribal drums
calling out
to all
join
the ritual dance
of
life

 

evergreen…

evergreen

always
looking the same
as if
life eternal
each
branch populated
like a city street
or village
but
the ground
is littered
with the graves
of those
who spent
their lives
in service
of the illusion
of a world
changing
but
unchanged

background music…

background music

there are
small voices
that go
unheard
songs lost
within the clutter
of our thoughts
our
routines movements
those
weighted steps
throughout the day
that mask
sweet melodies
so as
day ends
we bemoan
how
life
was wasted away
but we
did not choose
to hear
the music
of the soul

the life of a fool…

lthe life of a fool

rising each morning
avoiding an array
of once-used
christmas toys
scattered about
like
so many
fallen battlefield soldiers
though
these are not bleeding
but disregarded
in the same manner
a quick shower
and
coffee on the run
just to sit motionless
in some smog-filled valley
joining all the others
texting the office
on their late arrival
an electronic
time clock punching routine
arriving and attempting to avoid
the secretary’s indignant stare
retreating to the confines of
the stacks of half-completed memos
which multiply during the course
of the day
only to reach the end
of the day
and cycle back
into the smog
and
minefield of toys
to reach
the family dinner
on trays
in the front room
to listen to filtered news
then early to bed
no sugar plums fairies dancing
just upcoming bills
and then
return
to
line one

daily routine…

multi-colored hearses
transport
bodies
mummified
in corporate mortuaries
along
well-worn paths
to fool’s gold
moving
the breathing corpses
from one
dimly lit
platform
to
another
while
tearless mourners
gather
along
the funeral’s
procession route
a route
to
unremarkable
graves
in the suburbs

another day in paradise…

digital decoupage cwmartin 2012

lives
unlived
ride
cyclic city centipedes
down
brightly lit paths
to glass termite mounds
of recycled dreams
anesthetic music plays
throughout the day
numbing the mind
while random numbers
flash onto monitors
documenting
the death
of the planet
bondsmen
watched
subserviently
until
the appointed hour
then
doormen
usher all
onto
more centipedes
carrying them
down narrow alleyways
depositing the remnants
of their existences
onto the spot
marked
upon
their boarding passes
and
throughout the journey
they
recall
nothing